#your attention to details is spectacular

[gejo333]

Art credit goes to @kit-and-wolfe ! Thank you for fulfilling my wish to see Miguel in a wedding suit!🥹🥰💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

An Unexpected Match XIII

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

18+ Warning

Pt.1 Pt.14

Summary: The months of preparation for the big day!💐💍🔔

Only three chapters left of “ An Unexpected Match!” (Not including this chapter)

Enjoy🥰

Wc: 15.6k

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When you and Miguel arrived from Miami, your family, friends, and future in-laws met you in the backyard for a surprise engagement party.

You were both happy and shocked that Stephanie and Gabriel could quickly pull something spectacular. Yet again, it was Stephanie and Gabriel. If they wanted something done, they'd get it done. Of course, you weren't surprised that your parents weren't attending. Probably because you didn't tell them that Miguel had proposed to you. Despite all the drama, you still wanted to share the news of your happiness. But you were smart to know they wouldn't be happy. 

Jack had told you that they found out about your news from your Instagram and were not pleased, saying, like a broken record player, that you were too young and that Miguel was too old for you. Of course, you smiled when Stephanie added that Jack defended your relationship with Miguel and said that he cared for your happiness and thought Miguel was a good man for you. 

You chuckled from the memory when Liam approached the four of you, 'Now that you're going to be my future brother-in-law, can I test drive your Aston Martin?' As soon as the words came out of his mouth, you and Jack scolded your childish younger brother. God, you were glad you weren't a sophomore in college anymore. Of course, Miguel, being the gentleman he is, agreed as long as you or he were in the car. And, of course, you didn't help but brag to Liam that you had driven it before, to which his reaction was priceless. 

You sat at a cafe basking in the warmth of the almost-summer sun, scrolling through wedding catalogs.

"Damn, I knew wedding planning was a lot, but I didn't think it was this detailed! Like why is everything individually priced! And way overpriced! I saw this same napkin set for $5 at Target, and this is $30 for two?!" Stephanie stressed as she quickly flipped the pages of her catalog. "God, I wish I snagged a billionaire. But my heart is for your brother." Stephanie dramatically places the back of her hand on her forehead before moving it over her heart. You only rolled your eyes and chuckled at your best friend's childish antics. 

"I still don't 100% understand when you're so amazing, and he's just, well... Jack. But I am happy for both of you. I can't wait till he proposes so we can legally be sisters." You waved the waitress's attention to the check, which they saw and nodded.

"Honestly, I don't think I want to get married now that I have realized how much debt my dream wedding will make me." Stephanie gasped as she saw another overly-priced item. "Do you know your budget?"

"Funny thing is, there is no budget. Miguel won't let me pay for any of it, and there is no limit.  I want to help pay for it too, but he refuses to let me, which is frustrating, to say the least." You sigh as you place your card down on the bill. 

" I love that the only issue you have with your fiancé is that he wants to pay for everything." Stephanie chuckled as she finished her coffee, to which you sent her a light glare. 

" Steph, you know how I am. I don't want to be some dependent trophy wife. I want to contribute to the expenses. But enough about that. I invited you for coffee because I want you to be my maid of honor." You hold her hands as you smile brightly at her.

"I'd be honored to be your main wingwoman at the wedding. You can count on me!" Stephanie squeezed your hands as she returned your smile. "I will also take on the role of wedding planner! Only I know what your dream wedding is, not some overly-priced, stuck-up designer." 

"If you're up for the task, Miguel and I would love the help." After saying your goodbyes, you plan to see each other to start brainstorming themes for the wedding. You head back home, welcomed by your happy six-year-old daughter. 

"Mama, you're back!" Gabi ran up and gave you a bear hug. You smiled lovingly at her as you leaned down to return the hug. The smile on your face disappeared when you noticed a cut on her arm. 

"Baby bug, what happened here? Are you okay?" You check her arm to get a better look at it. It already had a scab, which meant it happened hours ago, most likely at school. 

"I fell during P.E. and scraped my arm when it happened. But I was a big girl, and I didn't cry." Gabi smiled, proud of her statement. You comb some of her fly-away curls behind her ear as you give her another hug, kissing the top of her forehead. "Oh, sweetie, that sounds horrible. It's okay to cry when you get hurt. There is nothing wrong in that."

"I know, but I didn't want to cry in front of the boys because they would make fun of me." Gabi's lips quivered slightly, pouting. 

"Well, if they ever make fun of you for crying, tell them you don't care what they think. And you shouldn't care what others think about you, Gabi. Just be your amazing, sweet self. But hey, if they still are giving you trouble, we'll have Papa scare them off. Cause no one upsets our baby bug." Placing one last kiss on her head, you let her go as she smiles brightly at you before running back to her playroom.

You smile before heading towards the office where your fiancé spends most of his time when he's not with you or Gabi. You notice the door slightly cracked open, signaling he wasn't too busy. As the new CEO of a mega-corporation, you were surprised by how much time he still gets to be with you and Gabi. 

You gently knock on the door to alert your presence before walking in. 

"Cariño? How was coffee with Stephanie?" Miguel called out, still focused on his various computer screens. You walk up behind him as you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind, resting your head on his shoulder. With one hand, Miguel entangles his fingers with yours and kisses your knuckles near your engagement ring. Half-focused on work. Half-focused on you.

"It was nice. I asked her to be my maid of honor, which she was happy to accept. She is also going to help plan the wedding. Her sense of taste is way better than any wedding planner that I looked at."

"She did do a really good job with the engagement party," Miguel added. 

"She did. I have always trusted her taste in design and decor. Have you talked to Gabe about being your best man?" You chuckled at his slight pout from your last words.

"I just haven't had the patience for his energy lately. And he won't leave me alone when I ask him." Miguel sighed as he leaned his head against yours, and you kissed his cheek sweetly. 

"Well, it's better to rip off the bandaid than leave it. Plus, you know he's been waiting for you to ask. On a different note, can we discuss something more seriously?" 

Your change in tone brought his full attention as he guided you to the front of his chair, both serious and curious brown eyes looking up at you. You smile as you straddle his lap and comb a few stray-away curls from his face. You always loved it when he had his glasses on. 

"Don't worry, honey. It's nothing bad. I just wanted to talk about expenses."

"What about them?" Miguel's hands rested on your hips, gently brushing his fingers against your clothing. 

"I want to be more a part of it. I want to help chip in. Like for our wedding, the house, and Gabi." 

"Like I've said before, Hermosa, save your money. You know I can easily take care of everything."

"I know you can, Miguel, but I want to contribute. Please let me help pay for things. I don't want to be financially dependent on you. I love you and can't wait to be your wife in a few months, but I will not be a trophy wife. So please, for my sake, let me help pitch in." You tried your best to give him a serious gaze without wanting to melt into his strong and warm embrace. 

A small sigh escaped his lips before he smiled. "It's hard to say no to you. Alright. You can help pay for Gabi's soccer things and groceries."

"And half the wedding."

"No."

"A quarter?"

"How about just the cake."

"Cake and flowers?"

"Fine. You have a deal, mi amor, if I can have a kiss." Miguel smirked, pinching your hip.

"Well, you can have a kiss anytime you want and as many times as you want." You smile, leaning in as your lips meet his in a soft and sweet kiss. "Here's another one," you say before placing another kiss on his lips, "and another because I love you." 

The kisses formed into a slightly heated make-out session as sweet kisses were placed on lips, necks, and light squeezes and touches. However, the enjoyable moment paused as you both heard light footsteps descending the hallway. You get off Miguel's lap and ensure you still look presentable. A few seconds later, barged in your daughter wearing a plastic tiara with pink gems and a matching tutu on her soccer uniform. 

"How cute do you look, baby bug. You look like a princess."

"I'm the soccer fairy princess. And I am inviting you and Papa to my royal tea party." Gabi handed you, and Miguel slips of paper with colorful drawings and writing. Of course, knowing your handwriting, you could tell she tried to spell out 'Momma's tea party invitation.'

"We would be honored to attend, Princesa." Miguel smiled as he got up from his chair, stretching to relieve the tension in his muscles from sitting too long. Would you like to be carried to your palace?" 

"Yes, please!" Gabi cheered in excitement before he picked her up with one arm. With his available hand, he entangled his fingers with yours as he led his family to the royal tea party upstairs.

.....

10 months before the wedding

"We're here!" Cheered Gabi from her car seat. You chuckle from her excitement as you exit the driver's side and unbuckle her from the car seat. Of course, as soon as she is out of the car, she runs to the car parked in front with a wild woman standing. 

"Auntie Steph!"

"Hi there, girlie! Are you here to help your Mama out with choosing a dress?" Stephanie smiled as she leaned down to hug Gabi, who happily reciprocated the gesture. 

"Yeah! But I promised her not to tell what the dress looks like even though Papa asked me to." 

"Oh, I see. Is Mr. O'Hara already getting impatient to make you Mrs. O'Hara?" Stephanie chuckled as she grinned at you, to which you replied with a smile and a playful roll of your eyes. 

As you entered, you were met by more of your wedding party, including a few more college friends as your bridesmaids and Conchata, Miguel's mother. You had met her only a few times, the last time at the engagement party. Ever since the beginning of your relationship with Miguel, you knew he wasn't close to his mother. Still, she was a good grandmother to Gabi and really sweet to you. When Miguel introduced you to her, she was overly excited to meet you, saying she was happy her son had found a nice woman. Even though she and Miguel weren't that close, it was nice to know that at least one parent approved of your relationship.  You had invited her to your wedding dress appointment because she always had wanted to be a part of the bridal process but never thought she would be able to since she only has sons. 

"Hola y/n! Que tal mi hija?" Conchata smiled as she hugged you, to which you happily returned. (Hi y/n! How are you, my daughter?)

"Hola Conchata. Bien. Estoy muy emocionado." (Hi Conchata. Good. I am very excited.)

"Me alegro. ¡No puedo esperar a verte probar vestidos! Asegúrate de que ese hijo mío no te deje embarazada antes de la boda. Lo era y odiaba que no pudiera caber en mi vestido."

(I'm glad. I can not wait to see you try dresses! Make sure that a son of mine does not get you pregnant before the wedding. I was, and I hated that I could not fit into my dress.)

"No te preocupes. No habrá noticias de futuros bebés hasta después de que se haya celebrado la boda." (Don't worry. There will be no news of future babies until after the wedding has happened). You chuckle at your future mother-in-law's words. You knew Miguel would say otherwise. 

He would be happy if you had told him you were pregnant today. Thankfully birth control prevented that from happening no matter how many times he tried overpowering the drug by staying inside you for hours after an intense amount of time fucking you. Lately, you have been falling asleep in bed with him deep inside you. 

Of course, your smile faded slightly when you saw your mother sitting next to your bridesmaids. She stood up with an awkward smile as she hugged you. "I'm shocked I was invited, especially since you didn't tell me you were engaged." 

"Well, every daughter wants their mom to be part of their wedding preparations, including dress shopping, despite your behavior." 

"My behavior? I'm telling you that what you are doing is a mistake.

"My son is not a mistake. And neither is this relationship. They are perfect for each other." Argued Conchata.

"Sarah, just be happy for her. Okay?" Steph touched your mother's shoulder, hoping to reason with her. 

"Let's just get on with this," your mother scoffed as she returned to her spot. You took a deep breath to calm your anger. You would try on wedding dresses; this is supposed to be a happy occasion. 

The bridal dress concierge walked towards your group. "Good afternoon, ladies. Now, who might be the bride?" 

"My mama is!" Gabi happily hugged you, and you chuckled as you looked down at her with a loving smile and gently caressed her head. 

"I am." 

"Lovely! Follow me right this way, Ms. L/n." The woman said warmly before walking into the bridal boutique with you, Gabi, and everyone else following behind. 

"Everyone can sit here while I take our lovely bride to the fitting room. The dresses you chose online are already in there for you. Please follow me." 

Before you leave, you turn to face Gabi, "I'll be in the dressing room, baby bug. Come in if you need me. Aunt Steph and Abuela will look after you." You kiss the top of her head before following the woman to the fitting room.

You had goosebumps on your skin, as you couldn't contain your excitement when you saw the dresses hanging up in the dressing room. 

Of course, no one told you how hard it was to get into a wedding dress. You only thought jean shopping was a nightmare. You sighed in contentment after finally getting the first dress on. This was going to be a workout. You look at the dress in the mirror, smiling as if you were happy with how it looked on you. But you knew it wasn't The dress. 

"Are you ready to show everyone?" said the concierge lady, her eyes meeting yours with a smile in the mirror. You nodded happily as you walked out of the fitting room and into the private sitting area. 

Your smile faded for the second time today when you noticed one person missing. Your face said it all as Stephanie answered your question before you even asked.

"She left. We tried to convince her to stay. But she wouldn't listen." Her words made your heart snap in two. You never would have thought you wouldn't be close to your parents anymore. That when your big day arrived, they wouldn't be there every step of the way. Guess you really saw their true selves. You tried your best to keep a smile as you stepped on the small stage to see the dress. 

"I think you look beautiful in this dress." One of your bridesmaid's friends said.

"You'll look gorgeous, mama!"

"Sexy as always, but I can tell this isn't your dress." Added Stephanie with a small smile. You knew she could see right through your barely believable act. 

"Yeah, I agree. I think I'll go try on the next dress." You say before heading back to the dressing room. Once you were back in the dressing room, out of the dress and in the provided robe, you collapsed onto the cushioned seat in tears. 

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry that happened to you. Is there anything we can do?" The sales clerk passed you a box of tissues, and you gladly accepted, not wanting to ruin your makeup. 

"Thank you."

"I'll be right back to get you water." The woman left as you continued to sit there to calm down your tears. 

You didn't realize how long you were in the dressing room until you heard Gabi's voice from the sitting room before hearing familiar large footsteps approaching you. A light knock was heard, followed by one of your many loving nicknames as Miguel walked in, the concern becoming more apparent when he saw your distressed state. 

"Miguel? What are you doing here?" You try to wipe away your tears and hide them, not wanting to have him worry about you.

"My mother called me, saying Sarah walked out, and you were heartbroken." Miguel kneeled before you as he brushed your hair away from your face. When he noticed your tear-stained cheeks, his blood began to boil. How dare that woman make you cry? It broke his heart to see you upset. 

He stood up and sat down beside you before grabbing you and making you straddle his lap. He placed butterfly kisses on your face and neck, something Miguel always knew would make you smile.

When he saw your beautiful smile reappearing, he placed one last kiss on your lips before he stopped to meet your beautiful gaze.

"Need any more of my love to wipe away those tears, cariño?" Miguel lightly chuckled as he used his finger to wipe away your last tears. You smiled as you gently shook your head before leaning in to kiss his lips. 

"Hey, you know the place where you wanted to have the wedding?" Miguel brushed your hair behind your shoulders, trying to hide a large smile on his face.

"Yeah. It would have been so amazing to get married there in Portugal. But I can't wait three years to marry you." You caress his face, trying to memorize all the lovely details.

"Well, I was going to tell you later tonight, but it's better now. I got that venue for our date."

Your breath caught in your throat as new tears appeared. Happy tears threaten to spill. "Oh, Miggy. I thought it was impossible to get it." 

"I might have pulled a few strings." He chuckled at your cute reaction as he wiped away your tears. 

You peppered his face with kisses before placing one on his lips. "Thank you for being so sweet. For loving me. Sometimes, I don't deserve to have someone as amazing as you."

"You have it all wrong, Hermosa. It's me who doesn't deserve a goddess like you. You have changed my world. You made me see all the good things. You made me feel loved for who I am and not what I am. I love you."

"I love you too." 

You stayed in each other's arms for a few more minutes before you heard the rumble of his voice. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm much better. Thank you." Your eyes widen when you realize the time of day. "Miguel, did you come here from work? Oh my god, I'm so sorry that I disturbed your day. You probably have way more important things to deal with than coming across the city to console me." You get off his lap, a blush coming across your cheeks when you realize underneath your robe were only your panties. 

"Mi Amor, I would drop any of my work stuff to be with you. Family is always number one to me. And why did you leave my lap." Miguel pouted as he tried to bring you back. 

"Miguel, I know what you're trying to do. Not happening here. Not in public." You chuckled as you got out of his grasping radius. He stood up from the chair as he walked over towards you. You walked backward until your back hit the wall. He tilted your head as he leaned down to whisper into your ear. 

"It never stopped us before. And you look so good in only a silk robe."  Miguel's hand went inside your robe, lowering towards your sensitive lips.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you felt two of his fingers slide past your underwear and enter your now aching hole. 

But of course, as soon as it began, it ended as you both heard your daughter running out of Stephanie's grasp and towards your dressing room. 

Miguel sighed as he rested his forehead against yours, removing his fingers from you and licking them to remove any trace of you from his fingers before kissing your lips. 

"She's been doing that a lot lately." Miguel huffed.

"It's alright. She's only six and wants to be with us whenever she can. We only get so many years of that." You caress his cheek, placing one last kiss on his lips before leaving your sandwiched spot between the wall and your fiancé, knowing he probably wouldn't be able to control himself if you didn't. 

" I know mi amor. I just love having my alone time with you." Miguel hugged you from behind as he kissed your neck, breathing in your scent. 

"And I love it too. But if we don't separate now, our baby daughter will need therapy." You chuckled as you left his hold, rewrapping your robe to better cover yourself. 

Within seconds, Gabi opens the curtain, followed by Stephanie, who gives you and Miguel an apologetic look. "This girl is fast." 

"¿Qué está pasando, princesa?" (What's going on, Princess?) Miguel chuckled as he picked her up.

"Abuela asked me to check on you and Mama to ensure you weren't playing around. What does she mean?" Gabi smiled as she began to play with her dad's curly hair. You went on Miguel's other side; he instinctively wrapped his free arm around your hips. You gently bumped her nose, making her giggle as you said, "Nothing happened, baby bug."

"But why were you two in here for so long?"

"I was consoling Mama because she was sad. And don't listen to what your Abuela said. She should have thought about her words first before saying that." 

The three of you left the dressing room and into the private showing area, where everyone awaited you. People came up to help console you, the bride, but you smiled, assuring them that you were alright. 

Miguel set Gabi down. Gabi then ran to your legs for a hug, which you happily accepted and returned. Your gaze goes to Miguel and Conchata, who bicker quietly in Spanish.  

You couldn't hear all of it but could make out most of it. 

"Por qué le dirías a Gabi que tú y yo estábamos 'jugando', no le digas que no entiende y que es demasiado joven para saberlo de todos modos'?"(Why would you tell Gabi that y/n and I were 'playing around? Don't tell her that. She  doesn't understand and she is too young to know anyways.)

"Bueno, ¿estaban ustedes dos 'jugando' allí?"(Well, were you two 'playing around' back there?)

"no, y ese no es el punto de esta conversación"

(no, and that is not the point of this conversation.)

"No lo niego del todo, hijo mío. ¿Qué diría Dios?"(I am not fully denying it, my son. What would God say?)

"No hablo de esto contigo. Eso es privado entre mi prometido y yo."(I am not talking about this with you. That's private between me and my fiance.) Miguel's watch buzzed, meaning he was getting a call from work; he looked down and glared at his wrist. "Tengo que tomar este." (I have to take this.)

"Peter, this better be an emergency." He said before he walked outside the store.

Gabi squeezed her tiny hand in yours, jumping up and down in excitement. "Mama, can we look at more dresses. I saw a really pretty one in that room." 

"Of course! Show me where it is." Gabi leads you to one of the rooms filled with various long white gowns. After a few minutes of looking, she points out the dress, to which you happily take it out. Just from the hangar, you think it is beautiful. 

"This one is gorgeous, Gabi. You have great taste. I'll go bring it to the room to try on next."

After looking through more dresses and grabbing some, you were ready to return to the dressing room. Miguel also walked back inside, looking frustrated. Of course, as soon as your eyes met his, his demeanor softened, and he smiled lovingly at you. You walked up to him, caressing his cheek. 

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, just a few annoyances have come up at work. I need to get back to them so they don't do anything stupid. I'll see you this evening." Miguel kissed you, which you happily returned before he hugged Gabi goodbye and walked out the door.

After trying on almost all the dresses, Gabi picked out the last one. Tears prick the corners of your eyes when you see yourself in the mirror as a smile graces your lips.

"This is it. This is the one."

......

8 months before the wedding

"Here are the invitations and the lists for where they go." You slide over the different 'Save the Date' wedding invitations to the postman.

"I love the design of the cards. Very elegant."  The man smiled as he happily took the invitations and address list. 

The bell to the door entrance rang, signifying someone had entered. The person who had entered walked up right next to you, his hand on your lower back. 

"Everything all done here, Hermosa?" 

"Yep. Just finished now. Was Gabi able to make it to soccer practice?" 

"She did. Jumped out herself and ran straight to the field where her friends and coach were." He chuckled.

"Aw, she's growing up too fast. She did that the other day when I took her to her friend's house for her play date. Let's get her favorite takeout for tonight. " 

"That sounds like a good idea." A buzz came from Miguel's watch, and he saw Jess's name pop up. "I'm sorry cariño. I have to take this call." Miguel kissed the top of your head. 

"No worries. See you outside." You gave his hand a love squeeze before he left to answer the call. 

"Everything is all set. One thing I just have to say.  Damn girl, you really snatched up a fine man." The man winked at you as he fanned his hand against his face. 

"He sure is an amazing man. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him." 

You left the post office with a smile on your face. You saw Miguel in the driver's side of his car, still on the phone. You quietly entered the passenger side, trying not to disturb his call. 

A few minutes later, his call ended, and he sighed. 

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just the same everyday stress I have to handle." You place your hand on his knee as you lean towards him and kiss his neck before whispering, "How about when we get back home I can help relieve some of that stress."

Miguel's eyes widened, and a smirk rested on his lips. Instead of driving straight home, Miguel turned the car into an indoor parking garage. It was an underground garage that goes quite deep into the Earth. 

As soon as you reached the lowest levels where no car were in sight, you turned to look at him, confused by the sudden detour. "What are we doing here?" You chuckle as you see him park in the corner. When he turned off the car, he moved the seat back. 

"Come here, cariño." He gently patted his lap. With a smile, you exited the car and went over to his side, where he opened the door for you. You easily get on his lap as you wrap your arms around his neck, capturing your lips with his. One of his hands trailed down from your back to your ass, squeezing your cheek while closing the door. You gasp, letting his tongue slip past your lips. The door is now closed, and his now other free hand goes to your ass. He pushes you closer against him as your tongues explore the familiar parts of each other's mouths. 

Miguel grunts as he feels you rub yourself on his hardened crotch. Too impatient, he moves you slightly back, unbuckles his belt, and unzips his pants before taking out his glorious thick cock.  

"Guess you couldn't wait to get to the bedroom." You giggle when you see him send you a playful glare as his lips mark your neck with kisses and love bites. 

"You were teasing me all day. You're lucky I didn't do anything at the store when we registered for gifts." Miguel's lips kissed up to your ear as he lowered the straps of your tank top, revealing your uncaged breasts. "You know I can't last minutes without being nestled deep inside your walls when you act like that."

You chuckled at his needy words as he brought his lips towards yours into a heated kiss as you unbuttoned his shirt. You slowly dragged your hand down his chiseled tan chest before your hand wrapped around his cock. 

"I swear. Your wish would be to be inside me 24/7." You chuckle against his neck as you kiss his sweet spot. 

Miguel groaned impatiently as he lifted you and not so gently guided himself inside of you; a gasp from your lips as your reaction and a beautiful sound Miguel would never get sick of.

 "Well, that wish will come true for two weeks after we tie the knot." He takes your chin, reddish-brown eyes staring down at you as he begins moving you on his cock. "And you'll officially become Mrs. O'Hara." He begins to quicken his pace, to which you even have to give him the full reins as his right-hand grasps your waist to give you the level of satisfaction you both desire. You never felt self-conscious about your riding skills, never with Miguel. He always knew when to say the right words and touch you in the right places. 

Of course, whenever you did feel a little subconscious about it, Miguel would just whisper in your ear, "A beautiful woman like you shouldn't have to pleasure a man but to have him pleasure you." 

From his sultry words in your ear to the cosmic pleasure ravaging your insides, you felt your knot come and release in an instant. 

Your euphoric high made your walls squeeze tightly around his cock. With the way he's been trying to paw down his boner all day long, he didn't mind releasing himself inside you so quick as long as he knew your needs were satisfied.

Miguel kisses your brow as you gently lean into his touch, both catching your breath. 

"I guess we need to head back to the house," Miguel murmured against your brow.

You look up at him with a suggestive grin as you brush back some strands of hair sticking to his forehead before caressing his cheek. "I think we can spare a bit more time." 

Miguel's grin widened, agreeing, "Be careful what you wish for, cariño." Miguel purred in your ear as he pulled the side handle of this seat, which made the car seat go all the way down.

.....

4 months before the wedding

You woke up at 4:45 am when your eyes finally adjusted to the light of your phone, seeing the time. You groaned out loud, annoyed with yourself for waking up so early. You never were an early morning riser, the opposite of your fiancé, who you know was downstairs in the home gym doing his morning workout routine. 

You were impressed by his strict early morning regimen. No matter how tired he was the day before, he always woke up at 4 am. He worked out until 6, took a shower, and was back in bed by 7 before you woke up at 8. 

However, this morning, you were awake. Maybe it was the nerves and pre-wedding jitters as the clock for your wedding was ticking closer to the date each day. Being too impatient to wait for Miguel to finish his workout, you decided to bother him. Of course, in his words, you never bothered him as he always loved you being in his company, embraced in his arms. 

Before heading to the basement gym, you put on pajama shorts and a tank top. You leaned against the doorway, admiring how your fiancé's muscles flexed as he lifted dumbbells. 

"Like what you see, Hermosa?" Miguel chuckled as he turned around. You bite your lower lip as you gaze over his sweaty physique. Your core grew tighter as you saw his biceps flex from the weights. 

"Mhm, maybe a little bit." You walk towards him, trying to hide your smile, but fail when you see his bright smile. You place your hands on his chest, gently moving them to his shoulders to rest. 

Miguel set his weights on the bench before returning to the same spot. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise when you feel his hands cupping your ass and pulling you closer. 

"Only a little? Will this change your answer?" His lips met yours in a sweet, loving kiss. "Though I'm happy to see you up early this morning, why are you awake now? Is everything okay?"

He cupped your face, concern growing in his eyes. 

"Yeah, you don't have to worry about me. I just woke up feeling nauseous and couldn't fall asleep, so I thought to come down here to keep you company."

"Are you still feeling nauseous?" 

"Yeah, but I probably just need to eat something."

"I'm sorry cariño. I'll go make you something."Miguel began to lead you both upstairs. You stopped, pausing his movements. 

"You don't have to do that. I'll grab something while you finish your workout." You tried to move from him, but before you could comprehend what was happening, all you could see was Miguel's tight ass in his workout shorts as you were now hauled over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

"Miggy. What are you doing?" You laughed as he began to climb the stairs to the first floor. 

When you arrived at the kitchen, he placed you on the counter and gathered the ingredients to make you an omelet. 

"You always come first to me. I can skip a workout to feed my fiancé."

When he stood close to you to chop vegetables, you leaned over to kiss his cheek in appreciation. 

You suddenly need to throw up when you smell the eggs on the pan. 

"I'll be right back." You hid your pale face with a smile as you headed back up to the master bathroom to empty your guts. Not hearing Miguel's footsteps behind you meant he bought your bluff, to your relief. 

When you began to feel better, a thought passed your mind, and you suddenly felt sick again. 

Flushing the toilet and turning on the faucet, you lean your upper body against the sink. You slowly sink your body to the ground in front of the cabinet. Opening the doors, you grab the box for wandering thoughts like the one now currently plaguing your mind. 

As you were anxiously waiting for the haunting test on the sink, you lifted your top to reveal your stomach in the mirror. You took an intake of breath without exhaling as you realized the very subtle baby bump. You quickly went to the test, eyes wide, as you saw the positive mark.

You go back to the kitchen downstairs and see Miguel just plating the food. 

"Your food is ready."

"Thank you for making this for me, honey. But I lost my appetite because...well...this." You show him the pregnancy test. 

Miguel sits down on the stool, staring at the test in shock. He looks back up at you, a smile spreading across his lips. He shoots up from his seat and twirls you around excitedly before kissing you. 

"I know it's a lot sooner than you wanted. But I promise to be there every step of the way." 

"Honestly, after my accident and almost losing my chance to ever have kids. I'm completely fine with having one now."

"I'm assuming you held that information for a reason?" He chuckled.

"Of course I did. The second you found out I wanted to have kids, I don't think we would ever leave our bedroom until I was pregnant." You laughed. 

"You're not wrong on that, mi amor." 

You laugh with your fiancé as you are about to give him a sweet, loving kiss to celebrate your little discovery. However, your body says otherwise as you feel a wave of nausea hit you as you race back to the bathroom, followed by Miguel. 

The nausea only grew worse throughout the day. It wasn't helpful that the final tasting menu and your hair and makeup trial were today. Despite Miguel reassuring you that he could reschedule those events, you refused, as you were hell-bent on your wedding plans not being delayed.

Instead of you adventuring outside, Miguel made a few calls and could move everything to the house simultaneously. 

"So why the sudden location change?" Hummed Stephanie as she leaned on the kitchen counter, sampling one of the dinner choices for the wedding reception. You had called her over this morning asking for her opinion, which she was more than happy to do. However, when she saw your sickly-looking skin tone and your constant need to excuse yourself with Miguel looking anxious every time questions were raised in your best friend's mind. 

"It's supposed to rain all day today."

"Haven't see cloudless rain before. Must be something new." 

"Gabi was sick, so we needed to stay home with her." 

"Mama, I'm not sick." Gabi looks up at you, confused from the kitchen stool she was sitting next to you drawing. 

You look back to Stephanie with a nervous smile as she narrows her eyes at you. 

"Hermosa, I don't think you can hide it much longer," Miguel added.

"Oh, I could tell something was up when I first saw you today." 

You sigh as you look at Miguel, who is trying his best to hide his amusement. You look at your daughter, who is happily coloring. "Baby bug, would you like to tell Auntie Steph the big news?" 

Gabi smiled brightly as she held up the picture she was drawing. It was her, Miguel, and you with a round belly. 

"I'm going to be a big sister!"

Stephanie's eyes widen in surprise before she goes straight to hug you.

"That's amazing! Ahh, I'm going to be an aunt again! Congratulations, you too!"

You happily hug her back. " Of course, you can tell Jack. But is it possible for you and him to keep it a secret? Just until after the wedding. I don't think Miguel and I could handle the extra annoyances from the in-laws if they knew." 

"I totally understand Jack and I's lips are sealed."  Stephanie zipped her lips and tossed the invisible key away. "Now, do we all agree neither dish is perfect for your guys' reception?" Stephanie pushed the plate away.

"I've been waiting for someone else to say it," Miguel added as he dumped the food in the trash.

"From the smell of it, I can agree." Your nausea gets the better of you as you rush back up to the bathroom, followed by a worried and doting Miguel. 

Stephanie chuckled as she watched the couple rush up the stairs. "Your parents are adorable. Aren't they, Gabi?"

"Yeah! Am I adorable, too?"

"You are the most adorable." Stephanie booed Gabi's nose, making her giggle. 

.....

2 months before the wedding

"Everything looks good and healthy." The Doctor smiles as she helps wipe up the gel on your stomach. 

"How far along am I?"  

"You're three months along. Now, make sure to follow all these instructions." The Doctor handed you the paper, which you happily accepted before handing it to Miguel, knowing he would be more responsible for not losing it. 

"Do you have any questions?"

You chuckled when you saw Miguel take out his list of questions, which he had been writing down for the past few weeks since you had scheduled the Doctor's visit. 

Even though you have a daughter, neither of you have gone through the pregnancy process, making him act like a first-time and nervous father.

After letting Miguel ask questions for another 30 minutes, it was time to go. Bless the Doctor's heart for being so patient. Even your bladder couldn't handle it, leaving the room twice. 

You both get in the car as Miguel drives you to the bridal boutique. Ever since you both found out that you were pregnant, Miguel has been a little bit overprotective, if you were putting it nicely. 

Despite being the CEO of Alchemex, he was able to go to work only two times a week. And despite being dotting before, he is at your beck and call, whether that be driving you somewhere since he has been too nervous to let you drive while pregnant despite you telling him you were fine or getting you a glass of water every time you were thirsty. 

Miguel placed his free hand on top of yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. He glanced over at you with a heartfelt smile. 

"Are you still good to head to city hall after your appointment?" 

"Of course. I'm glad to be out of the house a lot today. I feel like I've been cooped up all week." You smiled back at him as you placed your other hand on your small baby bump. 

"Just double-checking Hermosa. I know the morning sickness has improved, but I wanted to ensure you were okay with being at city hall for a bit. Even with the expedited appointment, we might still be waiting." 

"I never thought you had to apply for a marriage permit." Your cheeks tinted pink out of embarrassment. 

Miguel chuckled as he lifted your hand intertwined in his and kissed your knuckles. 

"Don't feel embarrassed, mi amor. You're 22. I doubt you were thinking of getting married anytime soon." Miguel's fingers gently fidgeted with your engagement ring.

You chuckled as you squeezed his hand out of love. "Well, before us, I definitely wouldn't have imagined being a pregnant mother of a six-year-old getting ready to be married in two months to the love of my life." You look over at him as you take in his appearance. "And I wouldn't want it any other way." 

"I love you," he lovingly looked over at you. You leaned towards his seat and kissed his cheek.

"I love you too, Miggy."

After some time in the bridal shop, you say your goodbyes and leave to see your fiancé in the car working. You were relieved that the dress fit with plenty more wiggle room for when your stomach gets bigger. You were thankful for the bridal store's kindness for the sudden change so close to your wedding. You guessed it didn't help that you had told them as soon as you found out about your pregnancy, and maybe because of the extra sum given to have it done. 

Around 20 minutes later, you arrive at City Hall. When you get to the right floor for marriage permits, you internally groan when you see the long line going around the corner and down the hall. You hear Miguel sigh, which makes you smile, knowing he feels the same way. 

Another 20 minutes passed, feeling more like an eternity with your swollen feet, and the line barely moved. You felt Miguel wrap an arm around your waist as he brought you in front of him. He leaned against the wall before moving you to lean against him. 

"Lean on me, cariño," Miguel whispered in your ear. 

You look up at him: "Are you sure? You must tired, too."

He smiled lovingly down at you, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. "I'm perfectly fine. You're carrying our child. You must be tired from standing. Lean on me to relieve the stress in your back." 

You smile up at him as you get on your toes to give him a quick kiss and thank you before you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him as you lean your head on his chest. You sigh in relief as leaning against him relieves some of your soreness. 

"Thank you, honey." You say against his chest. Your heart flutters when you hear the vibration of his chuckle before you feel him kiss the top of your head. 

"Anything for you, mi amor." 

Another 20 minutes went by, and it was beginning to become mentally painful to see how slow the line was going. 

"There you are, Mr. O'Hara." A man walking by stopped in front of the two of you, making you turn around. 

"Yes?" Miguel spoke.

"I've been searching the halls for you. I'm going to get you and Ms. L/n your marriage permit. I apologize for the delay. When the security checked you in, they should have sent you straight to me. Please follow me this way." The man gestured for you and Miguel to follow him. 

You look up to Miguel as you shrug your shoulders before following the government official. 

You enter an office that would be deemed very nice for a government-paid room. You sit and smile as tears threaten to spill from the relief you feel in your feet and lower back. 

"You know, for someone of my standing, maybe you should have been waiting at the check-in to bring us to your office and not depend on a security guard to do your job. Instead, my pregnant fiancé and I had to wait in line for almost an hour in an unconditioned building. You're lucky she didn't faint from the heat." Miguel's tone became serious, with an obvious tone of anger. 

Your fiancé's death glare alone could send someone into an early grave. Should you be scared? Maybe. But all you felt was how hot he looked doing it. 

"My deepest apologies, Mr. O'Hara. I can waive the fee for the permit." The official swallowed nothing, and his nerves were evident on his face. 

"That's not needed. I'll pay for it. Just do better for the next couple." 

"O-of course, sir." 

Thankfully, after a speedy process through all the paperwork, most likely from Miguel's glare going straight into the official's soul. 

"Bring this to the ceremony, sign it, and mail it in for it to be registered afterward. And that's it for here. Once again, I apologize for the earlier inconvenience. If you need anything from us, please don't hesitate to contact me. Here is my personal phone number." The man hands Miguel a paper with his number. "Have a lovely evening."

You and Miguel stood up from your seats to your dissatisfaction as Miguel led you out of the office. Once you left the building, Miguel sighed in relief. 

You turned around and placed your hands on his chest. 

"You were very impressive in there, Mr. O'Hara."

He placed his hands on your hips as he grinned down at you. "I try my best, Mrs. O'Hara." He leaned down for a kiss, but he stopped by your finger. 

"Not yet, your Mrs." You winked at him with a smile as you walked out of his grasp and towards the car. Miguel chuckled deeply from behind you. 

"I love it when you feisty Hermosa." 

.....

1 month before the wedding 

You mindlessly stared at the white wall as you lay in bed. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop the tears as you felt another wave of pain in your abdomen. 

You heard voices from outside the bedroom door. 

"How was she today?" Miguel spoke in a whisper. 

"Nothing new. She's been in bed beside the few times she needed to use the restroom too well. You know. She still hasn't eaten anything. I'm worried about her. She won't listen to anything I say. Maybe you can get through to her today." Spoke Stephanie.

"Thank you for watching her and Gabi while I dealt with that emergency at work." 

"Of course. You know I would do anything for her. How have you been managing?" 

"It's been a hard two weeks. But I'm more worried for her. It breaks my heart to have her go through this. If I ever see that bitch Sofia... I probably would end up in prison myself for what I would do."

"Fortunately, she has been behind bars for a long time. I'll let you go in there. I'll help finish the seating chart and the remaining small details that still need to be done."

"Thank you for all the extra help you and Jack have been doing for the wedding. It means a lot to both of us."

You heard Stephanie say goodbye before you heard the door to your bedroom open. As the bed dipped, you felt arms wrap around you. 

You closed your eyes to pretend to fall asleep, not wanting to talk. 

Two weeks ago:

You stood in front of a corkboard with circles organized according to importance. You stared at the board for hours, figuring out where to place your parents. 

"Urgh. Should I place them at the main family table? I don't really want to interact with them. If they even decide to come to the wedding." You mumble to yourself out loud. You look down at Gabi lying on the ground, watching her favorite morning cartoons. You smiled at how adorable your daughter was.

"Hey, baby bug. Where should my parents sit at the wedding?"

Gabi stood up and walked right up next to you with her usual happy smile. You passed her your parents' little name tags as she took them and went to the board. On her tiptoes, she put your parents' name tags at the main family table. 

"When I have my wedding, I want you and Papa to sit right next to me." You smile as you see her go on her tiptoes to put the name tags in the right place on the board. Over the course of the time you've lived here, you've seen her grow so much already. You knew she would get some of her father's height from how tall she was now at 7.

"Perfect! Do you want to help with the gift bags?" 

Gabi's eyes sparked with excitement as she jumped up and down towards the dining room table. You chuckled as you followed behind her. After a few minutes of showing her what went into each bag and seeing her do one, you left her on her own while you went to the kitchen to make you and her lunch. 

You felt something unusual in your abdomen. Your hand went to your round belly, a smile coming to your lips when you thought it was the baby kicking for the first time. That happy smile quickly turned as you felt another sensation, but it was a sharp pain. Your hand clenched your stomach as the pain kept on coming. A wet patch forms between your legs, but when you look down, your eyes widen to see blood drip from your thighs to the floor. 

You grunted in pain as it became worse, making you collapse to the ground before you could grab your phone. 

"No, no, no, no." You cried out loud in pain. This couldn't be happening. On that day, Miguel had to go to work. 

"Mama?"  Gabi walked into the kitchen. When she saw you lying on the floor in pain, you saw her face scrunch up as you saw her tears start to fall. She runs up to you as she kneels beside you. 

"Mama! You're bleeding! Are you hurt?" Gabi cried, scared for you. 

You gain enough strength to caress her face to try and soothe her. "I'll be alright, sweetheart. But something is not right with your brother or sister. Can...can..you...can you get my phone?"

Gabi nodded as she stood up and went to the kitchen counter. Getting on her tippy toes, she grabbed the phone. When she had it, she came back to your side and handed it to you. 

You start to feel your vision go in and out.

"Sweetie, you remember how we taught how to dial the phone?"

"Yeah." 

"Mama is having a hard time with her vision. Can you press 911 and then the green button for me?"

"Okay." You heard her sniffling as you tried to console her and let her know everything would be alright. 

You last heard a knock on the door before everything went black. 

You groaned as you awoke from what seemed like a deep slumber. You feel your hand in another's grip tightening slightly when you move your arm a little.

"Mi Amor?" Your fingers gently brushed against your cheek as you smiled, leaning into the warmth. 

"Miguel?" You start to notice your surroundings in a hospital. Once again... you sit up suddenly but are met with a stinging pain in your lower abdomen as you cry out in pain.��

"Y/n, don't strain yourself so soon. You have lost a lot of blood." Miguel sits on the bed next to you as he brings you into his loving embrace. You look at him and notice his tear-stained face and tired red eyes. You place your hands on his face, concerned about why your fiancé was so upset. 

The pain in your stomach and your fiancé's distressed face made tears fall down as you realized what had happened. 

"The baby...they're gone?" Even though you knew the answer, you hoped Miguel would reassure you. Instead, the pained look in his eyes worsened as he brought your head into the crook of his neck. 

"I'm so sorry."

You cried in his arms for the remainder of the Night until you passed out from exhaustion. Not once did Miguel leave your side as he stayed in the bed with you, consoling your broken heart. 

Nurses came in every hour to check your vitals and ask if you needed anything. It wasn't until morning that you woke up to see the Doctor walk in—the same one from the last time you were here.

That morning took a piece of your heart away when the Doctor explained to you and Miguel the cause of the miscarriage. Ever since your car accident and almost losing your uterus, it has become not the most suitable place for a baby to grow, and it would be very hard for you to carry out a full-term pregnancy. Pretty much tells you that you couldn't have kids. At least, that is how you took the news. 

"Y/n, please talk to me. You haven't left the bedroom in two weeks and barely eaten anything. It's breaking my heart to see you like this." Miguel whispered in your ear as he kissed the side of your head. 

You turn yourself to face him as you look up at him. You could see the bags under his eyes and how tired he looked. You knew he was grieving as much as you were, but still being strong to keep everything together, unlike you, who broke apart.

 

"Maybe you should marry someone who can give you and Gabi the family you deserve." You say barely above a whisper.

You feel strong hands on your face as he lifts your chin to look at him. Brown eyes are now serious.

" y/n, don't ever say something like that again. You are the only woman I love and want to marry and have a family with. No one else. And you know that is not true about your inability to have kids. You still can have children. We just have a few extra obstacles, and that's all."

"But what if I can't."

"Even if we never have a baby, we still have that little girl who loves and idolizes you more than her favorite sport. More than the world. Even more than me." He chuckled, which made you crack a small smile. He added: "We still have our little Princess and will always have her. And just having you and Gabi in my life is more than enough. I couldn't see my life without either one of you."

"I couldn't live without you and Gabi either. I think having little family outings and focusing on planning the wedding will help make life normal again." 

Miguel leaned down as he placed a sweet and loving kiss on your lips before smiling, "I couldn't agree more."

.....

The Night before the wedding

After a relaxing day of shopping and lounging at the pool with your bridesmaids, you're glad to be heading back to your room to rest and prepare for your big day tomorrow. 

Instead of heading to the elevators, Stephanie directs you to the bar area. Heading to the bar, she sits down, followed by you right next to her. 

"Two glasses of champagne, please." Stephanie smiled at the bartenders, who nodded with a smile at her request. 

You look at her in surprise that she ordered you a glass. " Steph, I'm not sure I'm ready to drink yet. I haven't had a drop since before finding out I was pregnant."

"I know it's only been a month since you lost the baby, but it's the night before your wedding. The champagne is barely alcohol. Plus you shouldn't have anything else so you can look your best tomorrow. But honestly. You could look like a train wreck, and Miguel would still think you are the most gorgeous woman on Earth."

You smile as you look at the glass handed to you. "You're not wrong there. You know this is the first time I feel completely fine talking about the miscarriage." You smiled. The bartender arrives with the glasses. Stephanie lifted hers towards you. Taking a deep breath, you smile as you pick it up and clink your glass with hers. "To the start of a new chapter." Stephanie smiled before taking a sip. You smiled, " To a new chapter." Before taking a sip. 

You noticed the time as you were chatting away about memories from your childhood or college. 

"Oh shoot, I guess I need to head to bed if I want to get at least a full night's rest."

"Good idea. You definitely won't be getting any during your honeymoon," Stephanie winked as she took another sip of her drink. "Oh, I have something to give you," Stephanie said as she grabbed a medium-sized box from one of her shopping bags. 

"Oh, Stephanie, you didn't have to do that. With everything you've done with planning the wedding. That's been an amazing gift."

"Of course, girlie. Anything for my BFF. Then let this be your post-wedding gift. I'll let you open it in private." Stephanie grinned before gently pushing the box to you on the counter. 

You narrowed your eyes at your best friend, wondering what she was up to before flashing her a smile. 

After saying your goodbyes, you made it to your bedroom. You sighed as you entered a quiet room. There is no sign of a warm, deep voice greeting you or a giggling voice in front of the T.V. in the other room before small footsteps come running towards you for a hug. You and Miguel wanted to be in a suite together as a family. But Conchata insisted you were in separate rooms. Even separate floors. You both agreed only because she stopped breathing down Miguel's back.

You sit on the bed, too big for one, and glance at the box Stephanie gave you. Grabbing it and setting it on your lap, you take the top off the box. Your cheeks go bright red once you lift the tissue paper. A card is placed on the intricate white silk lace lingerie. 

A little something to spice up the wedding night. It's not like the two of you need it, though; - ) 

-Steph😘

Your eyes widen as you lift the piece of clothing.

"How in the hell do you get this on?"

You notice another card fall out. Setting the lingerie back in the box, you leaned down to pick it up. 

Knowing you: Here are instructions on how to put it on.

You roll your eyes as you set the instructions on the bed. 

You were in the bathroom suite, trying to put these strings on your body right. You stopped midway as you looked at yourself and then at the photo, knowing you had already messed up. 

"How the fuck do I put this on?" You growled to yourself. 

You heard a faint knock on your door. Quickly getting out of it, "At least it's easy to take off."

Back in your comfy lounge, you head to the door, where you hear another faint knock, this time a deep voice followed by a young one. 

You smile as you open the door and see Miguel and Gabi looking very tan from being at the beach all day. While your bridesmaids whisked you away, Miguel and Gabi spent the day together. Although you love spending time with Steph and all your old friends, you would have liked to spend all day at the beach sitting beside Miguel while watching Gabi making sand castles or collecting shells nearby. 

"Mama!" Gabi ran in as she hugged you. You happily picked her up and kissed the top of her forehead. 

Miguel followed behind her as he closed the door. 

"Hola, Hermosa." Miguel smiled as he brought you close and gave you a sweet kiss on the lips. 

"Hi, you two. I thought I wouldn't get to see you both until tomorrow. I've missed you all day," you say as you walk to the sofa with Gabi and sit down with her on your lap. Miguel follows as he sits right next to you. 

"We missed you too! Especially Papa. He kept saying how much he missed you and wished you were with us."

"Can I not have any secrets kept from your mother?" He chuckled as he picked her up from your lap and tickled her. 

"Nope!" She squealed in laughter. "Mama, help me!" 

"Did you say tickle you too? Okay." You laugh as you also begin to tickle her. 

"No, mama, I said help me!" Gabi giggled as she tried to get away from the both of you. 

After a few minutes, you finally give your daughter her freedom, and she immediately hops off the couch and away from our reach. 

"Mama! I have a present for you! Papa, where's Mama's present?" Gabi said as she sat in between you and Miguel.

"A present? For me?" Your smile widens as Miguel hands her a rectangular envelope. 

"Here you go." Gabi smiled.

You look at the envelope as you see hearts drawn all over and in Gabi's handwriting:

To: Mama

Love: Gabi♥️

"I hope you like it." She smiled as she kept jumping up and down in her seat, and Miguel lifted her to his lap to stop.

"Aw, I bet I will, baby bug. I like anything you get me."

"But this present is extra special."

"Oh?" You gently open the envelope, careful not to tear it, and take out a folded paper. 

Opening it up, you read the first few lines—it was a government form. Tears began to brim the corner of your eyes as you read the first word at the top of the paper: adoption.

You looked at Gabi as tears began to spill. A wide smile made its way to your lips as you wrapped your arms around Gabi, brought her to your lap, and gave her a big hug. 

"Aw, Gabi. This is the best gift you could ever give me. Thank you." 

"I'm happy you love it, mama." Gabi smiled as she wrapped her arms around your neck. 

Miguel smiled as he brought you both to his side. 

"I guess the gift I have for you might not compare."

You turned to look at him, surprised by his words. 

"You got me something else?" 

" I did. But you can't know what it is until the morning. Are you fine with waking up really early?" Your smile widens from his mysterious words. You lean up to kiss his cheek. 

"I can't wait. Do you know what it is, Gabi?"

Gabi giggled as she covered her mouth and shook her head before she said, "I can't tell you. I pinky promised Papa." 

You brushed her hair behind her ears as you gave her a hug. "Oh, alright. I guess I'll just have to wait until morning then."

You all ended up getting cozy as a family on the bed, all in pajamas. Gabi sat between your legs as she watched the family-friendly movie on the T.V. while you braided her hair. 

"Pass me your other hair tie, sweetie." Gabi took the blue scrunchie with the charm of a soccer ball and handed it to you. "Thank you. Annnnd All done!"

Gabi looked at her two braids with a smile on her face as she turned around and gave you another hug. You lifted her to the covers and said, " Okay, it's time to go to sleep. We all have a big day tomorrow."

"Aww, do we have to? The movie isn't over."

Miguel pulls the covers over her to get her settled. "You can watch it from right here. And yes, we do. All three of us have to be up super early. Good Night, princesa." Miguel kisses the top of her head before turning off the light. 

As soon as the lights were off, your eyes suddenly felt heavy, and you fell asleep surrounded by the love of your life and your baby daughter. 

You awoke to the sound of an alarm. It was 4:30 am, and it was still nighttime outside. You got out of bed and went to freshen up in the bathroom. When you walked in, you saw Miguel holding a familiar piece of paper in his hand. You blushed as you snatched it out of his hands. 

"You aren't meant to see that until later today." Your reddened cheeks said it all as Miguel saw the box on the counter. You move in front of it, knowing what he was thinking. 

Miguel chuckled, "And what is it that I can't see until then?" His voice is still low from just waking up. He walks right up to you, putting his arms on both sides, trapping you between him and the counter. 

"Trust me. You will want to wait on this one." 

"I can't wait."

You smiled as he lifted your chin, leaning down to kiss your lips with a sweet, long kiss. 

"We're getting married today." 

"Maybe a lot sooner than you think. I have something for you in the closet." Miguel lets you free from your intimate trap as you go to the closet. You gasp as you see a beautiful, long white silk sundress with a low back and a few accessories. 

When you were finally dressed, including your hair and makeup, you walked back into the main area of the suite. You smiled as you saw Miguel wearing a nice dress shirt and pants. 

"Mama, look at my dress!"

You saw Gabi in a beautiful light blue dress, matching her father's shirt. 

"You look beautiful, baby bug." You pick her up as you twirl her around. 

"You look really, really pretty, Mama. You too, Papa!" Gabi smiled in your arms. Miguel placed a hand on your lower bare back, sending a spark up your spine. 

"We better get going. The boat is waiting for us." Your fiancé's words piqued your interest, and you looked up at him with a smile and a curious look.

"A boat?"

"You'll see soon enough, cariño." Miguel chuckled as he led you out of the hotel and to a car, the driver waiting for all of you. 

After a 10-minute drive, you were at the beach. You felt a beautiful peace, as the only thing you could hear was the beautiful song of the ocean. 

(Play here if you want😊)

Miguel took your hand in his, giving you a love squeeze. "You're going to love this, Mama!" Gabi smiled as she was skipping slightly ahead of the two of you. A few minutes walk on the beach on a dock before you saw a gorgeous small yacht decorated with hanging lights and music.

"Miguel, this...this is beautiful. What is it for?"

You both followed Gabi as she was already boarding the boat. When you got on the boat, you gasped at how beautiful everything was up close. The front of the boat was decorated with your favorite flowers, and the petals made a path to a small white pergola with a person standing underneath. 

The boat began to move on the water as you marveled at the beauty of The Algarve of Portugal from the water. 

"Now, can I know what the rest of this wonderful surprise is?"

Miguel turned to you with the happiest and most loving smile, his eyes showing just as much. He took both your hands in his.

"I know that the last month has been stressful. And not only the miscarriage but the stress of everyone a part of the wedding. I could see the stress and sadness in your eyes during the rehearsal with your parents and the annoyance of some of your bridesmaids. I know everything we have planned will be beautiful, and I can't wait to see you walk down that aisle later today and pour out all my love to you in front of everyone. But this is just for us. No loud noise. Let's get married right here. Let's have a memory of today that only the three of us will keep close to our hearts. I love you so much, Y/n L/n, that I want to marry you twice. Will you do me the honor?" 

You wrap your arms around his neck as you get on your toes—easier since you are wearing heels—and kiss him sweetly, giving your answer. 

You spent time in each other's arms, watching the moon begin to dip behind the horizon while watching Gabi play around the boat. 

"Hermosa." You can hear the smile in Miguel's voice as he gently calls out to you, waking you from your slight slumber. You were so cozy sitting beside him, keeping warm from the ocean breeze, that you dozed off on his shoulder. 

"It's time." You look ahead to this beautiful natural archway. When you look carefully, you see that it makes a heart shape. 

Miguel leads you to the pergola, where the official is with Gabi ahead, throwing more petals. He leaned towards you, his lips by your ear. 

"Locals say that if you kiss the one you love under this archway just as the sun rises and lights it up, the couple's souls will be connected forever."

Just as the sun begins to peak over the horizon, bringing the bright colors of the world, the official begins. Despite the beauty of nature around you, you can only look into the eyes of the man you love with your whole being. 

After the official says the words that bind you and Miguel forever, sunlight lands on the archway, and Miguel puts his hand behind your head and kisses you with all the love he has for you as you do for him. 

"I love you, Miguel O'Hara."

"I love you too, Y/n O'Hara." 

You spend the rest of the early morning having a celebratory breakfast as a family on the boat before returning to the hotel. Miguel takes you back to your room and places one last kiss on your lips. 

"I'll see you at the altar." He winked at you with a smile before he and Gabi returned to their designated room. 

After resting and bathing again, you heard a knock on your door, and a group of women were exchanging their words on the other side. 

You open the door in a robe. "Good morning, everyone." You smile happily. Miguel was right. This morning, all your stress and worries for today disappeared, as you already got what you wanted from today.

After you and everyone were ready, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes at how beautiful you looked. The dress your amazing baby daughter had picked out. The white gown was covered in a beautiful lace hat that hugged your figure perfectly to the ground, and the middle end of the dress was a bit see-through. The lace formed your shoulders, arms,  and chest just as the neckline dipped to show some of your cleavage. Your favorite part was the beautiful long and wide dress skirt hanging from your hips that covered the sides and back of your dress as it trailed down to the ground, along with a gorgeous soft white veil that went to the floor being held by a beautiful diamond encrusted headband as your hair flowed around your shoulders pulled back a little at the top to reveal more of you face.  

"Hey, no ruining my makeup masterpiece." Stephanie chuckled as she handed you a tissue. "But you look stunning. Miguel is totally going to tear up on that altar." 

You chuckled, as you had only seen your now secretly husband tear up a few times, so you weren't sure if he would in front of a lot of people.

 

Everyone walked out of the room and headed outside to the car. You smiled as you saw your father exit the driver's side of a beautiful silver-white vintage Rolls Royce. 

He walked up to you with a smile on his face. Only a few days ago, when everyone arrived in The Algarve, your father regretted everything that was said and done. He finally realizes how much you and Miguel mean to each other. It was when you had the miscarriage. He was the one who got you to the hospital as he was planning on visiting you that day to apologize. When he called Miguel and met him at the hospital, he saw all his anger for his friend dissolve and saw how much Miguel loved you. 

Of course, after that apology, you told him it would take some time to fully forgive him, but you were happy that the process was starting. Well, at least for one parent. You had asked him to escort you to church and walk you down the aisle, which he was more than happy to do. 

"You look beautiful." He said, which made you smile. 

"She didn't come and see me." You said to him.

"She's at the church. It wasn't smart for you to have seen her.”

"Do you think she'll ever come around?" You looked up to your father, hoping for a reassuring reply. " Let's get you to that church."

As the car takes you to the cliff where the church is, you smile as you see the locals congratulating you from the streets. When the car comes to a stop, your heart feels like it's beating in your chest, and butterflies begin to fly in your stomach. 

Your father gets out before going to the back, where he opens the door and helps you out. Stephanie and your other bridesmaids, who were in the car behind you, came up to you to make sure everything looked right before walking the remaining feet away to the church entrance. 

You saw Conchata and Gabi outside the entrance waiting for you. 

"Mama!" Gabi ran to you as you happily leaned down to hug her. "You look like a beautiful princess!" She added.

"Aw, thank you, baby bug. You also look like a beautiful princess in your flower girl dress." You did love her dress; it was a light pink silk dress, and the skirt puffed out a bit with tulle underneath. She wore her hair in a bun wrapped with a braid with diamonds on a pink headband. Similar to yours. 

"You look beautiful, my daughter." Conchata hugged you.

"Thank you, Conchata."

Conchata left to go inside to take her seat. And that's when the music began to play. The bridesmaids and their partners began to go in, with Jack and Stephanie being the last ones to go. Jack gave you a hug, saying, "You look amazing, y/n."

"Thanks, Jack."

You took a deep breath, clutching your bouquet tighter as you started to feel the nerves growing. 

"Just look at Miguel and no one else when you enter. It helps with the nerves." Your father smiled as he offered you his arm. You happily put your arms through his. "Thanks, Dad."

The main chorus begins to play, hinting that you should enter. You took another deep breath before you and your father entered the church. You marveled at the beauty of the interior, as it was all wood with flowers that matched your bouquet, which was placed perfectly on the ends of the pews and the altar. You saw Stephanie and Jack up there looking at you joyfully. You saw Gabriel standing on the other side with Gabi right before him. 

Your eyes finally land on reddish-brown as your heart grows bigger. Your smile widens as you keep them on him. You finally reach the altar steps as Miguel walks down to receive you. Your father takes your hand and places it in Miguel's. "Take care of her now. Which I know you've been doing. Thank you." Your father says to Miguel with a smile. Miguel looks at you and replies to your father, "I will."

As Miguel leads you up the altar, he leans toward you and whispers, " You look so beautiful. When I saw you walk down that aisle, it felt like I was falling in love with you for the first time."

You give his hand a love squeeze. "I felt the same too." You notice that tears are threatening to spill from his eyes. 

"Oh, Miguel." You gently wipe a tear from his face. 

"I can't help it, mi amor. You're just so beautiful."

The officiator began the ceremony. It felt like time was still going on, as you could only look at Miguel. Before you knew it, the officiator asked for the vows.

"Miguel, I am so happy that you swept me away from that random guy at the bar all those years ago in Miami. I'm so happy the universe reunited us to have that weekend not be the only time spent together. I am so happy and grateful to be a part of your family. I am so grateful to be loved by you and our daughter, and to you for bringing her into my life. The time I have spent with you has been the happiest days of my life, and I can't wait to continue having more happy years as your wife." You wipe away the tears falling down your face. Miguel moves closer to you, helps wipe away the tears, and smiles lovingly at you. 

"Y/n, mi amor. My sun and universe. When our eyes met across the bar, I knew you would be someone special to me. You have made my soul complete since you came back into my life. Every smile and laugh of yours makes my heart glow. I've been so lucky to wake up beside you every morning and be the person you see first thing every morning. I can't wait to do that every morning for the rest of my life." His words brought your tears back, which made both of you chuckle as he helped you again wipe them away. 

You looked up at him again as you put his wedding band on his finger, and he looked at you with so much love and desire putting on yours.

After a few more words were said by the officiator.

The words you've been waiting for...

"You may kiss the bride." Miguel grinned as he took your waist, brought you close, and kissed you. You placed your hand on his face to bring him closer, and tears ran down both your cheeks and his. 

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Cheers erupted from the pews as you and Miguel forced yourself to end the kiss. You walked down the aisle hand in hand out of the church, followed by everyone else.

After taking many photos with the hired photographer and getting dressed in reception attire, which was your gown minus the detachable wide skirt and veil, you kept the headband as a gift from Miguel. You loved how it looked in your hair. 

The reception was going off amazing. Everyone was happy, most likely because it was an open bar. You smiled as you gazed out into the ocean. The reception was on the beach under a gorgeous white and blue tent decorated to the nines with hardwood flooring and beautiful crystal chandeliers. 

You felt a hand placed on your own, turning your attention to your husband. Your brows furrowed when you saw concern in his eyes. 

"Is everything okay?" You smile as you give his hand a love squeeze. 

"Everything is perfect, cariño. I was wondering if you were okay? You haven't touched your food yet. Do you feel ill? Do u want me to have them get you something else?" 

You smile as you lean towards him and kiss his cheek, whispering, "I'm super happy. I'm just reminiscing about this morning." You lean back slightly to see Miguel's eyes fill with love. 

"I'm glad you liked the gift." Miguel caressed your face, took your chin, and kissed you. 

"I loved it. It was beyond perfect. And it made the rest of today so much easier." 

You hear a wine glass chime directing everyone's attention to the live band, where Stephanie and Gabriel now stood. 

"Hi, everyone; we hope you have been having a fantastic time." Stephanie smiled as she lifted her drink, causing the people around her to clap and cheer. 

"As the maid of honor, I must come up here and talk about my bestie, Y/n. And this speech has not been seen by her, so I'm sorry if I embarrass you a little. But it's all out of love." Stephanie blows you an air kiss, which you laugh as you catch it and blow a kiss to her. 

"I have known Y/n since we played little league soccer at 4. We sat on the grassy field, munching on the grass while the other kids ran around with the ball in their hands. And that's when two troublemakers became inseparable. Going on adventures for hours, flirting with older boys, and getting into mischief at the neighborhood barbecues. And god, we were worse when we finally got our driver's license. But that made the adventures even more exciting. Especially that trip to Miami. I found a hookup to get over an ex and you found love. When I saw you and Miguel together for the first time at that breakfast, I knew it was something special. Maybe neither of you knew it at the time. But the way you looked at each other wasn't just lust; it was love. And oh my god. When you came to our room the day of our departure, you left before he woke up. I swear I wanted to strangle you for how ridiculous you were for doing that. When we arrived at that neighborhood barbecue after returning from Europe, we were sleep-deprived and saw Miguel again. I knew you two were fated to be together. And I'm so happy to have gotten to know you, Miguel, and Gabi. I'm thrilled and happy to take the role of the fun Auntie. Congratulations again to Miguel And Y/n O'Hara." Stephanie raised her champagne glass as everyone clapped and cheered. When Stephanie left the stage, you walked over to her and gave her a hug as you wiped away the happy tears.

" Now, the speech my brother has been waiting for." Gabriel chuckled as he winked at Miguel. Miguel face palmed, and he swore in Spanish under his breath. You laughed lightly as you wrapped your arm around his and rested your head on his shoulder. 

"Miguel, you have been the best big brother and man this world could ever have. For as long as I can remember, you have always been there to help and support me and anyone who needed it. I know you always wished for someone to be there for you even though it was hard with your position; you didn't know who to trust. But I'm so happy you found someone who lights up your day. Y/n, thank you so much for filling that missing piece of him. You two will have many happy years together because you were meant for each other. To the happy couple." 

Once again, everyone clapped and cheered, and when Gabriel sat down next to Miguel, he hugged him in thanks. 

"Mama?" You and Miguel looked to see your daughter standing between both your chairs.

"Hi, baby bug. Are you having fun with the other kids?"

"Yeah! I'm happy that you and Papa found each other and that became my mom. You're the best mom in the whole wide world." 

"Aw, Gabi. I'm so happy and grateful to be your mom. You're the best daughter in the world." You have her sit on your lap as you hug her. 

"I love you, mama." Gabi hugs you tighter.

"I love you too, my baby bug."

As the day turned into the night with food, drinks, and dancing with your husband and daughter, plus your favorite part when you and Miguel cut the cake, you both put frosting on Gabi's nose as she had done to the both of you.

It was time for you and Miguel to go to the airport to catch your flight to your honeymoon. However, Miguel kept the destination a secret from you. After saying goodbyes, especially to Gabi, as she was returning to Nueva York with Gabriel as you wouldn't see her for two weeks.

You sat in Miguel's lap as the driver took you two to the jet. You both talked about today's highlights. 

When you arrived inside the jet, you noticed the stark difference between the one you usually take and this one. There were only a few seats and then a wall with a door. Was it storage? You were surprised when the air host walked you both to the back of the plane and opened that door, revealing a large master bedroom with a full-size bed. The air host said to press the call button if you two needed anything before leaving and closing the door behind them.

You were so stunned by seeing a literal bedroom and full-size bathroom on a plane that you were slightly started when you felt Miguel's arms wrap around your middle, bringing you against him as he kissed your neck. 

"A little surprised, mi amor?" Miguel chuckled. You turned around to face him and wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him. 

"Just a little. Never would have thought I would be in a bedroom in the sky." 

"Well, let me make it worth your while." Miguel's lips met yours with passion and desire. He quickly turned you back around to unzip your dress. As it fell to the ground, he looked at what you were wearing underneath. 

"Was this my surprise from earlier today?" Miguel pulled you closer to him by your hips.

"It is. Like it?" You grin up at him.

"Oh, I love it." Miguel lifts you up and gently tosses you on the bed. He quickly takes his clothes off, leaving nothing to the imagination as he climbs on top of you.

He placed a sweet kiss on your lips before making his way down your neck and breasts, giving each nipple its deserved attention with his mouth, down to your stomach before he made it between your legs. You jilted up a soft moan coming out of you when you felt him nip your inner thigh. 

"I love it when your body reacts like that whenever I touch you." He mumbled against your thigh right before his lips met your clit. Your fingers immediately went through his hair as every sensation made you grip his hair and make his mouth work faster. 

You felt the jet's engine as it began moving, further increasing your pleasure. Your core tightened as you felt Miguel's tongue enter inside you. 

Your mind was half in reality, half on a euphoric high. Thighs tighten around his head as you come undone for the second time just from his tongue alone. 

Miguel lifted his body and positioned himself between you. He hovered over you, placing kisses along your neck to your ear and whispering, " I'm so lucky to have such a beautiful woman to call my wife."

Your hands go to his face as you bring his lips to yours, needing to taste him. He licked your lips, wanting to explore your mouth. You gasp as you feel his tongue enter your mouth while he fully thrusts himself into you. 

You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist as he begins his quick and swift pace inside of you.

"Miguel." You cry out as you claw at his back.

"Fuck you feel so good around my cock." Miguel growled as his pace grew faster, making you feel your core tighten again. 

He grabbed your hips and lifted you to his lap, giving him a new angle to fuck you in, making the tip of his cock hit in just the right place repeatedly. You cried out loud as you reached your high again. 

Your hands claw against his back as you have your arms wrapped around his neck as your head falls lazily to the side, letting him mark your neck with love bites. 

Going after your third orgasm, your cunt began to feel overstimulated as he continued to fuck you at the same rough pace. 

"God, it feels so good." You mewled out loud. Miguel leaned forward as he kissed your lips. 

"Only the best for you, Hermosa," He whispered.

Miguel continued to slam into you as his cock twitched, almost at its peak. You moaned out loud as you squeezed around him from your fourth orgasm. The sudden tightness around his cock makes him groan as he spills deep inside you, coating your walls white.

Your upper body lay on his lap in a sweaty state as Miguel continued to thrust inside you, becoming more sloppy as he came down from his sexual high. He kissed your brow, your nose, and then your lips. 

"I love you so much." He mumbled against your lips. He laid you down on the duvet as he laid next to you, brushing your hair away from your face. 

"I love you too, Miggy." You smile lovingly at him as you kiss his chin and lips. "I have another small surprise for you." 

Miguel looked at you with a curious grin, waiting to hear what you had to say. 

"I stopped taking my birth control. I still want to try to have a baby." 

You can tell your words made his day even more amazing. You knew after your miscarriage the thought of having another baby might be a while away. But ever since the miscarriage, the thought of having a baby became stronger with you. 

"You really mean that cariño?" 

You happily nodded with a smile. " I do." 

Miguel placed butterfly kisses all over your face before hovering over you. You look down and an imaginary sweat mark falls down your face as you see him fully erect again. He brought your open legs against him, smiling. 

"Ready for round two?"

———————————————————————-

Hope you enjoyed the chapter🥰

Also thank you for the 900 followers! It means everything to me!💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

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[puraiuddo]

༺JazzProwl Fic Recs༻

— brought to you by puraiuddo -

This is by all means not a complete list of banger JP fics! It's my personal favorites—those fics that lodged themselves in my brain for one reason or another and never left.

Hopefully this list satisfies at least some of the sudden influx of interest for JP fics (and given how well rec'ing a fic turned out last time...) But, nah for real, not to make rec'ing fics fake deep or anything, but I think the fandom would be a better place if people were more unapologetically enthusiastic about fics and less afraid to interact with authors. So if you use this list to find some fics you have to promise to leave some unhinged comments! ٩("•̀ᴗ•́")و ̑̑

But before I start, I want to acknowledge the prevalence of potentially stereotypical depictions of Jazz in regards to his speech (❞), criminal/violent/sexual characterization (▾), or backstory/origins (⟲) in the JP/TF fandom. I've attempted to flag fics with the corresponding symbols above, because I'd like to recognize those problems while still rec'ing for a variety of other fantastic qualities. That said, I'm not infallible so please use your own discretion.

I've also tagged fics with "hiatus" if it's been a while between updates, but the author hasn't made a comment—these fics are especially important to interact with, b/c you never know if the author stopped posting b/c they weren't getting any reviews!

Now, without further adieu...

༺♡❦♡❦♡❦♡ -ˋˏ ♫ ♡ 𓆩𓆪 ˎˊ- ♡❦♡❦♡❦♡༻

༺JazzProwl-centric༻

Mistakes on Mistakes Until— by jabberish

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 280,212 - Alt-War AU』

Ricochet's got a bad case of conscience and he's pretty sure it's about to get him killed. (aka I think I've read every defection/ex-Con au and now I'm forced to make my own. Jazz-centric.)

* (づ ᴗ _ ᴗ)づ♡ The crème de la crème of JP fics. I really can't properly articulate the sheer amount of love and respect I have for MOMU other than that if you haven't read it, your life is worse for it. Go read it. Then read it again. Now. (I've read it 4 times. No, I'm not joking) I love all the fics on this list dearly, but MOMU holds a very special place in my heart. Flawless characterization, flawless dynamics, flawless plot, one-of-a-kind writing style... it's got it all. Of note: I've not flagged it despite its premise, because it will expertly subvert your expectations and you need to read it to understand. Bonus: it's got a lot of well-deserved fanart!

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Untitled Series by Need2Scream

『(2/?) - ffn - Words: 158,064 - War AU - hiatus』

Where the Lonely Ones Roam - 116,327

"Say you have a little faith in me. Just close your eyes and let me lead. Follow me home. Need to have a little trust in me. Just close your eyes and let me lead. Follow me home. To where the lonely ones roam." Eventual Prowl/Jazz

Spark - 41,737 - hiatus

"Chase you deep into the unknown. In my dark, in my dark, you're the Spark."/ "Roam with me, come down to where all of the others fell. Get lost, in the dark to find yourself. Just remember what I said, 'cause it isn't over yet."/SEQUEL to Where the Lonely Ones Roam

*It's not clear by the summary, but the series is essentially about Jazz and Prowl's developing relationship as they overcome war-related trauma, intermingled with a spectacular amount of original lore. See the author's ffn bio for a rundown. The originality and attention to detail in the world building in this AU is awe-inspiring. There are 2 fics in the JP series, but the author has a bunch of other Gen fics set in the same AU and another on ao3. Bonus: some of the Gen fics are Jazz & Prowl-centric and can be read as romantic!

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Crime in Crystals Series by Aard_Rinn

『(7/?) - ao3 - Words: 258,030 - Crime/Hitman AU - hiatus - ▾ ⟲』

The Hitman - 6,942 - pt 1

Prowl is the last clean cop in Praxus, the final flickering light in the darkness. There are plenty of people who would like to see him snuffed.

2. The Clarification, 3. The Kill, 4. The Capture, 5. The Prime, 6. The Talk, 7. The Chase 8. TBD

*The main plot is broken into 7 separate fics, but it's all one continuous story. Read the whole thing! It's on my all time favorites. It's thrilling, tremendously action packed, and the character dynamics are some of my favorites. It's also hysterical and wholesome and I've reread it a stupid amount of times. Bonus: it's got fanart + there are 5 extra fics, including a Jazz-centric prequel, in the same AU.

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War Eternal Series by Hearts of Eternity

『(3/4) - ffn - 2m? idk it's insane - Bayverse War AU - discontinued - ▾ ❞ ⟲』

Where You and I Collide - 362,090 - prequel

Separately, Jazz and Prowl are like forces of nature- they are uncompromising and uncontrollable. But what becomes of their natures when these two unstoppable forces collide? Will one break the other, or will they both be stronger for it?

As We Come Together - 485,586 - pt 2 - Gen

While the surviving Autobots begin to flock to Earth in response to Optimus' call, trying to find a new home on the strange organic planet called Earth, some unfortunate bots are beginning to realize the price of war may have been too high. Sequel to Time

May We Never Let Go - 408,409 - pt 3 - Gen - d/c

Hell literally lies in wait above Earth as the Cybertronians and Earthlings coexist uneasily, rattled by every attack the Fallen and his master launch on them. With new evil rising, the powers that be on Earth and beyond are gearing up for war.

1. As We Come Together, prequel 2: Surface of the Sun

*Long, convoluted explanation coming up given that this series is obviously a whole different beast compared to likely any other fanfic series you or I have ever encountered in our lives... b/c the author is just superhuman or smth idk...

The series is officially listed as 4 parts (WYaIC, WTWHL, AWCT, MWNLG). Where You and I Collide is the JP-centric prequel to the other 3 Gen fics (that have substantial background JP). WTWHL is technically part 1 of the series, but it's sorta more character-focused ficlets than a continuous story... which is why I didn't specifically list it as a rec even if that makes things more confusing... (ᵕ¬ᴗ¬) Also the author didn't list Surface of the Sun as part of the series, but it's a direct prequel (like WYaIC) starring the Lambo twins and it's... oh it's so good... absolutely shatters my heart that it's been d/c'd.

I've not listed an exact world count, b/c if you want to read every bit of the AU with all its prequels and offshoots (which I would highly recommend and have done)... I'm not gonna do the math for you, sorry. The main 4-part story is ~1.7m+ which I realize is frankly insane and extraordinarily intimidating, but it is so sooo sooooo worth it. The author has created their own fully fleshed out TF world with its own lore and characters and the time and effort they've put into is mind-boggling .

Anywho, despite ultimately being d/c'd, the series is still tremendously readable and nothing about JP is left feeling unbearably unfinished. I also happened to track down the lovely author and beg for a summary of the ending, b/c I'm a bit of a freak and they very kindly provided it so if not knowing how a fic ends bothers you/prevents you from reading, you have the option of getting closure even if you can't have it written out.

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Fathomless by Sroloc_Elbisivni

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 19,949 - Fantasy AU - complete』

Jazz is drowning on dry land on the other side of the world. Once upon a time, before Jazz was born, the Rust Sea covered a swathe of Cybertron bigger than the territory of any city-state except Iacon. The sea had been more powerful than any engine besides the one at the heart of the planet itself, big enough to swallow a metrotitan in its depths, the birthplace of storms. Thing is, none of that was Jazz. He doesn’t remember those days, before he was himself, except in his dreams. And his dreams are terrifying.

*This fic makes me feel some type of way... it gives me shivers. It's so eerie and the premise is so unique. It's also beautifully bittersweet, which is a hard concept to pull off.

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The Judge by SilenceoftheLlamas

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 107,653 - Alt-War AU』

Prowl’s got a secret, and he’d rather be dead in the ground before he let anyone find out about it. Jazz’s got one too, but he’s not as good at hiding it. Prowl is a secret superhero, Jazz is a secret fanboy who doesn’t know that he works with the guy. By night Prowl is the virtuous hero The Judge, but by day he’s just an unassuming tactical officer.

*Jazz and Prowl are sorta painfully adorable in this fic and the JP is so sweet it makes my teeth hurt. Plus it's got a really fun premise with lots of shenanigans.

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Black on White on Black Series by pipermca

『(3/?) - ao3 - Words: 86,248 - fix-it, War AU - complete』

Anamnesis - 31,097 - pt 1

When Jazz and his team are lost on a mission, Prowl has to carry on alone. But a discovery a thousand vorn later could turn his life upside down again.

2. The Ghost of the Howling Plains, 3. Pulling Strings

*Super interesting sorta-kinda-fix-it fic and/or explanation for the events and characterizations in IDW. There are 3 stories in the main JP plot line. Bonus: there's 2 "Extras" fics for cut scenes from the main fics.

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Crystal Ghosts Series by Rizobact

『(2/2) - ao3 - Words: 85,688 - Fantasy AU - complete - ⟲』

Enduring as Crystal - 40,517 - pt 1

There were a lot of reasons Prowl visited the library. He never knew the most important one was waiting for him in the garden behind it.

Eternal as Love - 45,171 - pt 2

Prowl promised he would help Jazz, the ghost of the crystal chapel in the garden behind Praxus' central library. He just couldn't anticipate what shape that help would wind up taking.

*Another super unique premise! I love a good historical mystery and the imagery is specularly evocative! And I'm a sucker for the trope... which I can't reveal, because of spoilers.

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Untitled Series by Vaeru

『(2/2) - ffn - Words: 10,766 - War AU - complete - ❞』

Descant - 7,925 - pt 2

G1/Jux compliant. Requiem sequel. Prowl doubted that his desired image of Respected Superior Officer came across very well with a half-scrapped mech clinging to his hand, but he loomed as best as he was able and glared.

*Requiem is Jazz-centric and I'd say more of a prequel to Descant than Descant is a sequel to Requiem... if that makes any sense. Regardless of how you view it or what order you read it, it's fucking brutal. (-‿-“) Bonus: author also wrote another really great fic called Transformers: Juxtaposition which is Lambo twin-centric and OC-centric, but perhaps one of the only OC fics that I've ever enjoyed.

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Domino Milkshake by SilenceoftheLlamas

『oneshot - (1/?) - ao3 - Words: 24,886 - War AU - complete - ❞』

Jazz drunkenly pretends that he's dating Prowl. Only he isn't, and the mech is right behind him.

*It's a fake dating AU... what more can I say? I love the the begrudging developing romance and the meddling friends. Bonus: it's got fanart!

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Hunter's Spark by WandersUnderStarlight

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 43,645 - Alt-War AU - ❞』

Jazz disobeys orders to abandon the ruins of Praxus and runs into one of the Senate's dirty secrets.

*This author also has a few more JP fics that I enjoy like An Offer He Can't Refuse and Long Patrol. I gotta offer aisclaimer though: the fics are... fairly cliche and a bit OOC. Hunter's Spark is much more tame than the other two, though. They're all sorta a guilty pleasure of mine, because it's fun to enjoy Prowl being a bit of a BAMF and Jazz being a bit of a damsel on occasion even if objectively I understand why it's not everyone's cup of tea. ("￣▽￣";)ゞ But the author definitely deserves credit for creative and entertaining premises and a really nice writing style!

༺☆★☆★☆★-ˋˏ ♫ ♡ 𓆩𓆪 ˎˊ-★☆ ★☆★☆༻

༺General༻

Little Brother by Meiza

『oneshot - ffn - Words: 64,542 - War AU - discontinued』

Prowl is infamous for being a logical, nigh emotionaless thinker who's better at battle calculations than interpersonal relationships. How he was roped into taking care of the last survivor of Praxus is anyone's guess.

*Prowl & Bluestreak centric, but Jazz has a solid amount of screentime. The subplot is pre-relationship, co-parenting JazzProwl and it's cute as hell. It's not 'officially' discontinued, but it hasn't been updated since 2010... so... At least it doesn't end in a cliffhanger. (╥﹏╥|||)

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Things We Don't Tell Humans by SineadRivka

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 363,057 - Bayverse War AU - complete』

This was a first for us Autobots; never before have we come in contact with a species like these humans, so eerily similar to our own race and twice as tenacious as Sparklings. The question was, how far can we trust the humans with our culture? Some things have translated between cultures without much effort. Other subjects, however…

*Please note the tags! Also... I'll be honest that I mostly skip to the JP parts and main plot points in this fic as it's about a very ensemble cast and I'm not interested in TF humans ... so I can't entirely vouch for the integrity of the whole thing. (￢ω￢;)

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Echoes of Messatine by MlleMusketeer

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 303,863 - Alt-War AU - complete - ▾ 』

Cybertron hurtles toward war, and only a handful of mecha see it. Not Megatron, whose inflammatory writings gain him agonizing attention from those on high. Not Ratchet, the Iacon Medical Center’s most prized practitioner, whose Dead-End clinic remains the worst-guarded secret on Cybertron. Not Overlord, whose iron hold over Cybertron’s underworld is beginning to falter. Not Orion Pax, whose concern over the sudden silence of one of his favorite writers drives him to take up his hero’s pen. Not Terminus, who only wants to survive. But Trepan and Senator Shockwave both know well what’s coming. One aims to use a defiant miner’s fall to crush the aspirations of the masses. The other wants to use that miner’s triumph to ignite them. Neither much cares about Megatron himself, or his ultimate survival. Therein lies their fatal error.

*Not clear from the summary, but the premise is essentially "what if Megatron got the matrix instead of OP" and how their pre-war lives would have to pan out for them to ultimately switch roles. Just a really fascinating, supremely well-done "what-if" fic, but also probably the weirdest one to put on this particular list, b/c JP turns into megatron/JP at the very, very end... but... I just kinda ignore that development since it happens in like almost literally in the last chapter and you can def read it as friendship up until that point... (¬⤙¬ ᵕ)

༺☓○☓○☓○☓○-ˋˏ ♫ ♡ 𓆩𓆪 ˎˊ-☓○☓○☓○☓○༻

༺Mature༻

*listen... don't @ me. They're definitely saucy, but they're not explicit. Yada, yada... hey minors, don't read these! ...But we all know you will so just don't talk to me or anyone else about it, cool? Cool. (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

Intermission by crabapplered

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 5,049 - War AU - complete - ▾』

As the war stretched on for interminable vorn, Prowl found himself faced time and again with the mounting stress of his position. Many of those times he was forced to face alone, the gear grinding stress sending him to Ratchet for system overhauls and forced defrags. But every so often he'd be fortunate enough to have Jazz on hand, and when he did, well, it didn't take much. Pressing Jazz up against the wall, cramming him into corners, pinning him facedown over Prowl's desk. It didn't matter as long he could keep Jazz still.

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Audition by crabapplered

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 12,783 - War AU - complete - ▾』

If one were to be delicate, one would say that Jazz and Prowl are incompatible. The blunt truth? 'You just lie there with this blank expression on your face,' he'd been told by his last partner. Signal had stayed longer then most, willing to try since Prowl was so obviously doing his best, interfacing to please his partner and give him what Prowl himself disliked. In the end, though, it hadn't worked. 'You don't like me touching you, you don't like the mess, you don't even like the overload, and half the time I swear you're running economic simulations in your CPU you look that bored. I don't want that. I don't want you miserable, and I don't want me miserable, either.' So why can't Prowl stop wishing?

༺♡❦♡❦♡❦♡ -ˋˏ ♫ ♡ 𓆩𓆪 ˎˊ- ♡❦♡❦♡❦♡༻

That's all, folks.

ദ്ദി(｡•̀ω-)✧ ~Happy reading!

and for the shit tumblr search/tag system, i offer: #jazzprowl #jazzprowl recs #jazz x prowl #jazzprowl fic recs #jazzprowl fanfic recs #tansformers fic recs #tf jazzprowl #tf fic recs

[thollandneedy]

Bed Chem- Tom Holland

A/n: Did i took almost 2 weeks to write it? Yes. Did i slay? Also yes

Warnings: Swearing and smut

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

The white dress had transparent details around it, like tree branches hugging Y/n's waist. The woman had her legs crossed as she sat waiting for her agent to notify her of the arrival of her car. Her attentive eyes caught sight of a man in a white jacket, black jeans that clearly showed off his plump buttocks and his strong arms that seemed to be begging to be freed from his black shirt. The young woman supported her weight on one of her hands, tilting her body to the side in an attempt to see the brunette's face, but caught by surprise, his assistant called out to her:

“Y/N. Can we go?” A man with rectangular glasses asked her, holding out his hand so that the woman could lean on it.

“Um, sure.” The woman straightened her dress, slicked back her hair and walked slowly towards the exit of the fashion event that had just taken place in a historic museum. The architecture of the environment was the same, but with some transparent chairs with comfortable ivory seats. The fashion show of one of Y/n's sponsors had just taken place in the museum's garden, which was decorated with floral and mythical elements that seemed to be inspired by “Alice in Wonderland”. As she neared the exit door, a familiar figure called out to her, causing her to turn around and smile, walking away from her agent.

“Y/N” Laura Harrier, smiling, held out her arms as if waiting for a hug, which was quickly reciprocated.

“Laura! I didn't see you the whole event.” Y/n says as soon as she's out of the hug.

“I was with some of my cast mates. How are you?” The pony-tailed brunette replies, pointing to some people in a circle chatting and laughing quietly to themselves.

“I'm fine, but I have to go. New York is calling.” Y/n lies.

She hadn't been able to write anything for a while, let alone find a chord on the various instruments she played. It wasn't a lack of ideas, because like all Hollywood artists, it wouldn't be wrong to be able to use a song as a template, but nothing seemed to be original enough or to capture her attention in order to finish the song. 

“But already? Well, stay! We haven't seen each other for over five months.” The brunette asked, holding both of Y/n's hands as if begging him to stay.

Y/n smiles, but denies it with his head. Just as her mouth threatens to open in response, the man she was looking at approaches Laura, with a friendly smile and brunette hair as silky as linen. Y/n moves away briefly, giving him room to greet the actress.

“Laura! Good to see you.” The brunette says, and as soon as she finally manages to blur the actor's beautiful body, Y/n smiles with satisfaction, discovering who this man was who had caught her eye without even saying a word.

Thomas Stanley Holland, the newest Spider-Man

I couldn't deny the media attention he was getting, let alone his distinctive British accent.

And damn, what a voice 

“Tom, this is Y/n.” The girl in the red dress moved her body away from the actor, making room for the singer to enter the scene and greet him with a friendly handshake, which ended up becoming an embarrassed hug.

“Y/n L/n. It would be a lie if I didn't tell you that I listen to your songs in my car. You're incredibly spectacular in your songs.” The Brit compliments her, causing a shy smile to escape from his pink, glossed mouth.

“I appreciate your affection, Spiderman.” The woman replies, prompting a low laugh from the actor. “I've never been a big fan of Marvel, or any superhero franchise, but this time you convinced me to watch. You were awesome.” Y/n returned the compliment, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, adorned with a pearl earring.

“Getting a compliment from you made my day worthwhile.” The brunette replies.

“My brother will go crazy when he finds out I talked to Spider-Man.” Y/n laughs, remembering that his younger brother was obsessed with the character Thomas played.

The two of them were already in such proximity that if they lifted their arms to fix their hair, they would end up touching. Electronic music played in the background, while waiters passed by handing out champagne and other appetizers to the guests in the garden and others who entered the museum to take photos. The actress, sensing the connection between the two newcomers, approached briefly, asking to be excused, trying not to cut off the rapprochement that was being generated.

“Sorry to interrupt, but some of my colleagues are calling me. Do you mind if I leave?” The actress asks, receiving a silent no and smiling in thanks as she quietly leaves in search of her friends who have called her to take photos. 

“So you have a brother? What's he like?” Thomas asks, stepping forward, trying to move his steps elsewhere as they talk.

“He's great, but he knows how to drive me crazy.” Y/n laughs, following in the actor's footsteps and walking to the exit door.

“You don't want to go to my house to meet my family then. I have four brothers, and for a touch of femininity, my dog Tessa.” Tom mentioned, putting his two hands behind his back and causing the singer to react with astonishment at the number of brothers he had.

“And do you get along?” Y/n asks, receiving a yes between silly smiles. 

“Yes, quite a lot. But it's still difficult to deal with.” Tom continues the conversation, only to be interrupted when his agent calls him with his hands, showing that his black vehicle is already waiting. “I have to go now. I have to do a photo shoot later and I haven't even eaten yet. Can I text you later? Maybe I'll be free tonight. “Holland mentions, shifting his posture to face the woman in the see-through dress.

As soon as he stopped, his eyes once again shifted to watch her.  The woman's clear smile mesmerized him, as her eyes beckoned him to touch her. Even though her face had delicate, virginal features, Holland's mind was filled with dirty thoughts, however unintentionally. The actor had no intention of making the woman do anything she didn't want to do, let alone disrespect her, because his British moralism would never allow it. 

Y/n, on the other hand, felt the same way. Women are discreet and careful in the way they express their admiration for appearance, especially of a man they had never met before. Y/n would deny the invitation if she was silly and really had important work to do, but perhaps a distraction would help her inspiration. 

“I didn't give you my number.” Y/n says.

“I've been following you on Instagram for a while.” The brunette admits, looking away.

“And where are we going?” Y/n asks, drawing a sideways smile from the actor.

“Wherever you want, darling.”

(...)

The sun had been out for hours, and the bars were closing. The air in London managed to be more different than in New York, strangely wetter. Thomas's apartment had some of its lights on when his shoes were thrown into the hallway, and the walls made banging noises as if there was a fight about who was stronger. The clock struck almost two in the morning, and the neighbors who had once tried to sleep were now hiding their ears from the sounds coming from the young actor's apartment. 

“I don't usually do this on first dates,” Y/n said, tripping over her own shoes as her long-sleeved blouse was lifted, exposing her white bra.

“Don't worry, doll. I won't tell anyone.” Thomas says, kneeling down in front of the singer, allowing his tongue to meet her exposed belly, leading it to her covered breasts, which she responds to with a positive moan. “Can I take it off?” The actor brought his eyes up to hers, as if they were begging for his wish to be granted.

“Please.” One of Thomas' hands goes up to the clasp of Y/n's bra, unbuttoning it in a second with just one hand. 

Carefully, he pulls her up, holding her legs and pressing her against the wall so that her feet don't touch the floor. Their necks meet in a hard, abrupt touch, while their mouths move in sync, not allowing them to move. Carrying her on his lap, Holland detaches the woman from the wall, taking her to his bedroom a few rooms away. The couple laugh, allowing the actor to open his eyes and walk through the corridors of their home.

“I bought the apartment recently. I still haven't got used to everything in here.” The brunette admits, while Y/n wraps her arms around the young man's neck, agreeing with what he has said.

She didn't even know what he was saying on the way, since her concern was how he was going to touch her, hold her and turn her. Y/n noticed that they were approaching a white door with a silver handle, which was easily opened by one of Thomas's free hands, as the singer's legs were entwined around his hips. The brunette closed the door behind him, taking a deep breath as he let the woman's feet touch the heated floor, watching her room as the lights came on. As much as Y/n wanted to check the actor's room for red flags before he could commit some kind of act he would later regret, it wasn't possible for the place to be assessed, since Holland's tongue will find Y/n's within seconds of leaving it on the floor.

“Holy shit, Y/n” Thomas holds her against him, walking backwards as if guiding her into a mysterious cave of hidden secrets.

“What?” The woman smiles, as Thomas's hands go down to the buttons of the younger woman's pants, which manage to be removed with ease by his nimble fingers.

Y/n's ass becomes exposed to the warm air of the room, while Holland begins to feel his member harden against the factory of his pants, adjusting his hard-on in search of relieving the feeling of desperation buried between his legs. The heat rises to his cheeks, making him stretch out on the bed, putting both hands behind him to support the weight of his body against the bed he was lying on. His eyes drifted down to his smooth, apparently freshly shaved legs, returning to his hard breasts against the shirt he was wearing.

“Come ride on me,” Thomas asked, quickly removing his shirt after thrusting his body forward, carefully pulling the singer's thighs apart until she was sitting on his lap, rolling against his erection as soon as she felt it.

The singer smiles sideways, resting her two hands on the actor's back, who lies back, allowing her to take control of the moment and feel safe in the midst of the act they were about to perform. The air seemed to be getting denser and denser, and that was exactly what Y/n needed for her week's vacation. Something that inspired, surprised and called her to focus on something other than just music and work. 

The woman removes her blouse, finally exposing her hot body, sliding it against the actor's muscular chest, which allows a moan to escape her mouth. Y/n's back arches, as her mouth seeks out Holland's mouth once again with her tongue and fiery desire. The actor holds on tightly to her hair, bringing her closer, until the sound of the zipper opening is heard and he finds himself with only a hut as a representation of underwear.

“It's been a while since I've done that.” The singer confesses between wet kisses, feeling her lower lip being touched by her sexual partner's tongue.

“I'll help you,” the actor offers, finishing removing his underwear, leaving them both completely exposed to their desires on the bed with its wine silk sheets and comforter of the same color. 

Without even thinking about protection, Y/n put one of her hands on the actor's chest while she searched for his member so that she could fit into his wet entrance. The need for touch was so intensely hot that foreplay was no longer part of the process. The actor's penis fit perfectly into the younger woman's layers, feeling every bit of her completing her between wet slides of her pussy. The man groans loudly, gripping the woman's waist tightly until he makes red marks on each side. Y/n throws her head back, pressing her thighs together so that her movements meet Thomas's in their sexual synchrony. The man's hands manage to control the woman's sloppy movements, making her moan louder. 

“Fuck, Thomas.” The woman moans thinly, closing her eyes as if to squeeze them shut.

“Do you like that?” The man draws her attention with a muffled voice.

“Uhum” The girl rides his lap hard, finding a perfect rhythm. “Oh, shit”

Holland quickly pulled a pillow over his head, managing to improve his view of the surrounding singer. He couldn't tell if it was because her vocal range was so good, or because he was enchanted by her, but every sound she made managed to be perfect. The window of Thomas's apartment was open, as were the curtains that exposed the immense City of London as if each light in each house were a tiny star in a sea of space. The light was low, almost reaching the same intensity as the moon, which was also part of the lighting used by the couple. Holland moved his left hand to the pillow, squeezing it tightly with each thrust that Y/n made into his hard member. 

“Huh,” the brunette moaned. “If you keep this up, I'm going to come soon.” The man warned.

“And that wasn't the intention, baby?” The girl says breathlessly.

Her breasts were exposed, swaying with each hard smack against her wet spot. Her clitoris could be stimulated by her own hand, seeking a faster and stronger orgasm, so that she could relax her body for a good sleep, or perhaps another round that felt satisfying. As soon as Thomas noticed the stimulation she was practicing on herself, he caught her eye:

“No, darling. Let me touch you. I want to make you scream.” The Briton said, placing one of his free hands under the woman's hand in front of him, making her get off quickly so that she could be penetrated once more.

The pillow, which once served as a support for the actor's head, was now positioned against the woman's belly as she lay in a straight position with her hips slightly raised. Thomas kisses the singer's ass, running his hands over her soft skin, his eyes fixed on the beginning of the bed adorned with several pillows that he probably hadn't even used. Thomas holds the base of his penis, placing it against the entrance of the woman who involuntarily asks him to penetrate her, pressing her wet core against the pink head of his penis. Feeling the wetness of his member in contact with her entrance, it was as if her insides missed him and were ready for him to take her.

Without haste, the actor's penis entered the woman, eliciting a loud moan from her that was muffled by the mattress. Y/n's loose hair was pushed away from her face, allowing him to see even the slightest of her facial expressions as he penetrated her to the point where their skins made a sound. Her back arched like a cat's, and her position was perfect for hitting her G-spot with ease. With a feeling of power overtaking his body, Thomas put his weight against Y/n's back, lowering one of his hands to one of her breasts, which were massaged with fervor when he found them. Once again, a loud moan came out, now sounding hoarse and lacking the strength to moan any louder. 

“Thomas!” Y/n moans, clutching the messy sheets.

Holland takes on more shape and movement, starting to feel the sweat build on his wet chest. His mouth opens in an “o”, while his eyes close abruptly as he feels a huge explosion forming inside him. His breaths, as unregulated as they were, still came in a rush. Y/n felt his body tense up, as if his muscles were trapped in a cage of exhaustion after too long without an intense connection. 

“Come for me, come on. Let me hear you,” the brunette ordered, as if he were imposing a commandment on her. 

Y/n can't even deny the request, as the orgasm hits her hard like an eruption from a fiery volcano, feeling her fire being put out by the actor's soothing cum. Her walls contract, expelling her entire furrow in a shrill scream from both of them in the room, as if their bodies were begging for more. The brunette exhaled the air of satisfaction, allowing his body to fall next to his partner, who was still recovering from the physical effort and energy released during the climax. The girl smiles to herself, putting one of her hands to her face to cover her silly laughter, and then sneaking closer to the actor, whom she embraces in an affectionate gesture. Her body is wrapped in the sweaty man's arms, who smiles briefly at the naked singer, then says:

“I don't know what we'd be like as a couple, but I'm sure we have good bed chem”

[emeritusemeritus]

The little one? [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: The little one?

Pairing: Fred Weasley x wife!Reader

Timeline: Set during DH (canon has been altered slightly so that Fred and reader were married before Bill and Fleur)

Summary: A wedding brings out all the extended Weasley family, and their incessant questions about when you would start your family.

Warnings: Established relationship, getting married young, mentions of pregnancy and babies, but neither actually feature in the story. Mentions of sex and a few curse words.

The questions had been incessant ever since you had gotten engaged, never once letting up each and every time you attended some sort of Weasley family event.

You'd been dating Fred Weasley ever since your third year at Hogwarts and over time your relationship had just gotten stronger, knowing right from the start that you were endgame for each other, two souls eternally entwined.  You'd gotten engaged not long after the shop had opened in Diagon Alley, with Fred using the profits of his and George's wildly successful shop to buy you a simple but beautiful ring that he'd proposed with not long after.

You were both incredibly young but with everything happening with the war and the general unrest, time felt precious and neither of you had seen any fit reason to wait to start your futures together.

You'd gotten married in a small little ceremony in the woodland behind the burrow in the autumn, the spot you'd claimed as your own ever since the early days of dating, the spot you would both sneak off to in all weather to claim some time alone. Just your closest friends and family had attended, and you'd spent the evening laughing and dancing with the people you loved.

Bill and Fleur had apparently had very similar feelings and had wanted to marry as soon as possible, which meant Weasley family gatherings left, right and center in preparation for the big day.

It had started when Fleur's family arrived from France to meet the Weasley's and great aunt Muriel had took it upon herself to join in on the family gathering, stating herself to be the head of the family. The questions started from then on, with everyone over the age of 40 seemingly fixated on asking you and Fred the same question. Then, when Bill and Fleur's big day came, you'd been accosted by great aunt Tessie to help her to her seat during the reception and had been trapped there for a while as she went into excruciating detail about her own wedding and basically her entire life story. Truthfully, it wasn't entirely unpleasant with Tessie, not like talking with Muriel, but as you looked around the beautifully decorated marquees and saw Fred and George dancing in the crowd, clapping for the happy couple, you couldn't help but think about how much you'd rather be there with them, dancing with your husband. Fred had found you not long after and had attempted to steal you away to dance but Tessie in a rather spectacular fashion had also managed to get Fred to take a seat and had begun to drone on about her wedding once again with her new audience member.

"So when's the baby coming then?" She's asked with a wicked glint in her eyes, looking between you both.

"Do I look pregnant?" You'd asked in alarm, looking down at your stomach in your bridesmaid dress before flicking your gaze worryingly to Fred who looked just as shell shocked.

"Of course not dear!" Tessie laughed, slapping her hands down on her legs as she leaned back, "but you're married now!"

All words seemed to fall from your mind as you stared back in complete astonishment, not knowing how to respond.

"You know," she says, turning her attention to Fred who still looks frozen in place, "your mother was only 20 when she had William."

Ever since then, it was like the flood gates had opened and suddenly everyone was asking the pair of you about when you were planning on having a child, completely ignoring the fact that a potential war was on the horizon. It was exhausting, deflecting the same question twenty times from both families and towards the end of the night, you could tell that Fred's patience was wearing thin.

"So, have you two thought about trying for a little one?" A deeply unpleasant friend of aunt Muriel's had asked you both as you were making your way out of the marquee for some fresh air.

"Yeah we've just started actually," Fred snaps, making you turn your head quickly to look at him, eyes wide as you hear his words, knowing it would not end well. "Honestly it's exhausting, we've never had so much sex and that's saying something- every single day and sometimes twice a night, it's a miracle she can still walk."

You were horrified and amused in equal measure, not knowing whether to run away to hide your blush or your laughter at Fred's blunt delivery. The old woman looked up at Fred with utter disgust as she barged past him, fleeing from his rude and uncouth behaviour. It took one look between you both before your resolve shattered entirely and you both burst out into infectious laughter, doubling over as you wheezed. Fred dragged you close to him as you laughed and you squealed as he roughly pulled you into his chest, feeling his laughter reverberating through his muscular torso. You slapped his chest to scold him for his outrageous behaviour but he simply chuckled more and pulled you tighter, kissing the top of your head as you both made your way out into the woods, wordlessly falling in step as you sought out your spot.

"You know, I wish it was our wedding we were re-living," Fred says, slipping his hand down from your shoulders and entwining with yours as you walked, your other hand holding up the bottom of the long, satin bridesmaid dress so you could walk the final stretch to your spot without damaging the dress. You looked over at him, seeing the cheekily smile you loved so much and beamed back, nodding your head at the thought.

You approached the little fallen log that signalled the entrance to the little clearing in the woods and Fred suddenly dropped your hand and reached out to grab your waist, hauling you effortlessly over the little stump so that you didn't have to climb over it in your heels. His hands lingered on your waist for a few seconds as you leaned up to kiss him, silently thanking him for the little gesture. He winked at you as you pulled apart before pulling out his wand and casting a charm that created little firefly lights all around the little clearing, just adding a little more light to the moonlit clearing. You smile as you look up at the beautiful little twinkling lights, momentarily mesmerised by the beauty.

"Mrs Weasley," Fred says to your side, making you turn with a wide smile. Your new name and title still made butterflies erupt within you, the same way that Fred calling you his wife did. "Would you do me the honour of dancing with me this evening?" He asks with a smirk, extending his hand to you as he bows formally. His wedding ring glints in the moonlight and it makes your tummy flip once again.

"Why of course kind sir," you said flirtily, placing your hand delicately in his, gasping as he pulls you closer not a moment later, his other hand resting on the curve of your hip, just a little lower than what was deemed appropriate for a waltz as you begin to slow dance in the middle of your spot. "You know, my husband won't like that I'm dancing with such a handsome stranger."

"Husband you say?" He jokes, playing along, "I didn't realise someone had already claimed you, he's a very lucky man."

"I'd say so," you teased, laughing as he suddenly pinches your bum as you joke. "I'm pretty sure I'm the lucky one," you say with complete adoration as he smiles, the hint of a blush appearing on his freckled cheeks. "After all he does fuck me once a day and twice a night."

Your squeal echoes through the woods as he grabs as you, chuckling at your squeal as he spins you recklessly in his arms, both of you perfectly happy with your lives in that moment, without a mini Weasley.

[doyouknowhowtowaltz]

WOAH! This is absolutely fantastic!!! Thank you so much!! I'm absolutely honored you drew a scene from one of my fics!

I did a drawing based on @doyouknowhowtowaltz s fanfic named woodwind, it’s a super amazing fic and I’d recommend reading it. I know the fic was a bit more spicy then it looks in the drawing soz but I had absolutely zero idea on how to do that lol

Sorry for the lack of background, I’ve always had trouble drawing the beast with good expressions but I think I did okay with this one x hope y’all like it xx

[misc-obeyme]

MC Looking Fabulous

This was another request from @oakley-tree1 for an MC who normally wears casual clothes showing up to a party looking fabulous. Since I usually do GN!MC, their outfit isn't described at all, just the brothers' reactions to it. I enjoyed writing this! Thank you for the request!

GN!MC

Warnings: None.

Lucifer

Can’t keep his eyes off of you. He wears a suit all the time, aside from the RAD uniform, so it’s pretty obvious that he appreciates fancy clothes. While he has no issue with your casual outfits, this one has caught his eye in a way the others did not.

Doesn't come to your side right away. Instead, he will watch you as you move about the room. You can feel his gaze, but it isn’t unpleasant. It makes you feel a little tingly.

Will only be able to stand it for so long, watching you chat with other people. His pride forces him to appear at your side. And he knows how stunning the two of look standing together. Comments on parts of your outfit, especially if you've worn something he gave you as a gift.

Doesn't really ask you to dance, just sort of leads you out to the dance floor. You don't resist, letting him guide you through the steps. He pulls you close to him. You've really caught his attention tonight, MC. Don't think he'll be letting you go any time soon.

Mammon

Loses his mind. Manages to control it to some extent, but it’s gonna be hard for him. Especially if you’ve done something obvious like dressing in gold or wearing something he got for you.

Mammon is fashion conscious so he truly appreciates the outfit you’ve put together. Knows every brand and every piece of what you’re wearing by sight.

But he’ll only kind of babble about that stuff because what he’s really interested in is you. He’s constantly touching you all night, putting his hand on your back or shoulder, standing close enough that your bodies are just barely pressed together. Won't let you spend too much time talking to anyone else.

Wants to dance with you so bad. When he's got you close to his chest, he'll be honest. Don’t get him wrong, MC! The Great Mammon loves how ya look tonight, but know that he loves ya no matter what you’re wearin!

Leviathan

Oops. You broke him. His brain has shut off. You might get it to restart again if you talk to him. Distract him by saying something wrong about TSL on purpose so he’ll snap out of it to correct you.

While Levi’s clothing knowledge mostly involves cosplay, he still knows quite a bit and he’s impressed with your look. Considering how you normally dress, this was completely unexpected.

M-MC, would you consider being a cosplay model for him later? Your outfit has given him a ton of ideas for characters you could dress as. He wants to take all the pictures of you.

You might have to bully him into dancing with you. Isn't that a thing that normies do?! But he'll give in, of course. Spends most of the time in disbelief that he has someone like you dancing with him.

Satan

At first, it's hard to tell what his reaction is. Keeps his cool, unlike all of his brothers. Doesn't freak out, doesn't get weird. But when you come up to him, he tells you directly how good you look and he says it in such a poetic way, you find you're the one swooning.

Since you've likely worn a lot of things you received as gifts, he notices every detail. Remembers who gave you what and for what reason. Of course he's touched if you wear something he gave to you.

Although he is calm on the surface, his heart is pounding. He can't stop himself from saying things he probably wouldn't say normally. Like how brightly your eyes are shining. The way you look like you stepped out of a painting. Please, won't you dance with him, MC?

Of course you can't resist such a beautifully worded request. You can feel everyone watching the two of you. He knows you look spectacular together, out there on the dance floor. But he's focused on you, guiding you through the steps, keeping you close.

Asmodeus

Swoons. Absolutely loses his balance, has to be held up by whoever is closest. Once he's regained his senses, he rushes to your side, gushing about how you look. The colors! The lines! The attention to detail! Your face! Your hair! Oh he's fallen in love with you all over again.

He recognizes every piece of clothing that he gifted you. Tells you he's so impressed with the way you've combined his gifts into the most beautiful ensemble he's ever seen! Even though you normally wear such casual clothes, he knew you could pull off a glamorous look!

Of course you look amazing standing beside him. Takes a million selfies. Gets someone else to take a ton of pictures of the two of you from afar.

After all the commotion, though, Asmo is going to insist you dance with him. He's stronger than he looks and he guides you effortlessly across the dance floor. Something changes slightly in his gaze as you move. Be careful, MC. You're looking so delicious tonight.

Beelzebub

Hang on. Is that… MC? You look so different than you normally do. He's so surprised, he stops eating. He had been by the buffet table of course but now he's quickly moving to your side.

He doesn't know how to articulate how good you look. He really likes your casual clothes, but it's nice to see you in something so drastically different. And for some reason, he's not even thinking about food right now. He tells you all this with a soft blush.

He's more than ready to dance with you. You make quite the pair, wowing everybody present as you do some fancy moves. Beel lifting you and twirling you and never once losing his grip on you. You feel safe in his arms as you move around the dance floor.

Carries you back to the buffet table where he wants you to try all of the tasty things laid out for the party. You happily join him as you've now worked up an appetite from all that dancing. He's so happy to watch you eat, he almost forgets to eat himself. Almost.

Belphegor

Shocked. Quietly shocked, but shocked nonetheless. He had no idea that you, who always wears such casual comfy clothes, could put together an outfit that looked so fabulous.

Acts like he's uninterested, but actually ends up beside you pretty quickly for such a lazy demon. He doesn't need to say anything, you can tell from the way he's trying to contain himself that he's having feelings. When he does say something, it's to comment on how he's amazed you could clean up so well.

Although he's not normally the type to want to dance, he asks you. He can't resist wanting to hold you close when you're looking like this. Although his stamina isn't great, Belphie is actually a good dancer. He gracefully guides you through the moves, surprising everyone present with how stunning the two of you look.

Sneaks you away to an outside balcony where he can sit with you beneath the Devildom stars. You are the brightest star tonight, MC. You outshine everyone here.

masterlist | part 2 with the side characters | Thank you for reading!

[adrift-in-thyme]

@telemna-hyelle it took more than an hour (sorry about that) but here it is! The Four/Dot fluff I promised!

I hope it helps you end your day on a good note <33

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

He isn’t ready for this.

Four moves along the wooded path as if in a trance. He knows every step of this place like the back of his hand. But usually, he is much more attentive than this. Usually, he keeps a watchful eye on the surrounding area, scouting for the stray chu or keese. 

Today, however, he cannot seem to keep his mind on such things. The sunlight dappled earth beneath his feet, the scent of leaves and bark baked in the afternoon warmth, the breeze that caresses his cheeks, and the chittering of the many critters that scamper about within the foliage – they are all lost on him.

He feels Dot’s hand in his, her palm smooth and warm. He smells her perfume – light and sweet like the cotton candy they spin at the yearly festivals. He hears her laughter, bright and unrestrained and free as she tells a tale from her day. He sees her, radiant, hair like strands of gold and eyes the color of the joyful sky.

She looks at him, says something he can’t comprehend. He nods, conjures up a smile. With luck, it won’t be as strained as he feels that it is.

He has faced beasts one hundred times his size, navigated the pain and confusion of being split into four, saved the world twice. But by the golden three, he is not ready for this.

And yet, he is going through with it anyway. He can’t back down now. Not when his best friend is right here beside him, every moment of basking in her presence strengthening the love he feels for her. 

Four squares his shoulders. Yes, this is the right thing to do. The hardest things often are. 

The Minish have done a spectacular job preparing the clearing. That much is evident as soon as it comes into view. Everything is as they had planned. Every detail has been attended to with immaculate care.

Vines drape over tree limbs, their slim strands heavy with layered blossoms. Flower petals drift down in lazy pirouettes to join the coat of vibrant pink already lying on the forest floor. The sun glimmers through slightly parted branches. Not far off a fairy fountain casts its soothing glow. Soft notes of magic drift to Four’s ears as he leads Dot forward.

“Link,” she breathes, gazing upward and all around, eyes wide with adoration, “this is beautiful.”

“Yes, it is,” he agrees with a calm he in no way feels. “The Minish worked very hard on it.”

Dot turns to him now, head cocked in question. “The Minish? What do you…”

She trails off as he drops to one knee.

It feels as though he is kneeling on a bed of silk. But the sensation in his chest as he reaches into his pouch is about as pleasant as the Big Octorok sitting on him.

The ring is in his palm though, a delicate thing melted and shaped and fired by his own two hands. It had taken countless tries to get it right, to meld the corners into the perfect curve, to carve the designs in the way he imagined them to be. Making jewelry is not quite the same as crafting a sword. It requires a different sort of skill.

But he had found that skill within him. And he had created something beautiful. Something he will be proud to see upon her finger.

“Zelda,” he murmurs and curses the way his voice trembles a bit at the end, “Zelda, Princess of Hyrule, my dearest friend…” He raises his head, gazes into those big blue eyes. The ones that had shone with empathy when the pieces of himself had threatened to shatter him anew. The ones that had glowed with mirth and joy at the festivals, brightened when he told a joke, gone sharp with interest when he told a tale.

The eyes he has gotten lost in so many times before, and hopes to many more times in the future.

“Zelda, will you marry me?”

She stares at him for a long, agonizing moment, hand held to her mouth, emotion surging across her face. Then, she laughs. She laughs and the world sings with the noise. And she swoops down and lands a kiss right on his lips.

“Was…” he croaks when his surroundings have swung back into focus and the dizzying mixture of elation and trepidation have abated somewhat, “...was that a yes?”

“Oh, Link, of course, it was! Of course!” Her hands are on his face. The ring shines on one of her fingers, though he can’t remember placing it there. Everything is a haze, a haze of wonder and joy and fear. 

It looks perfect there, though. Almost as though she was born to wear it.

“I’ll marry you, Link!” She cries, visage aglow. “I would like nothing more!” 

A laugh bubbles from his lips now, smaller and more hesitant, but overjoyed nonetheless. He stands and suddenly, his arms are around her and hers around him and they are hugging like the world depends upon it. Like if they let go, this moment, this delicate, beautiful moment will solidify and shatter. 

Perhaps, it will. But Four likes to think that it is stronger than that. Like they are.

He blinks away the tears and smiles.

As a sword is forged to endure the struggles of time, so is their friendship made to withstand the toughest of tribulations. And that makes moments like this one even more precious.

“I love you,” she says and her very soul is in the words.

Four holds her tighter and makes himself a promise that he will never let her go. He will never allow her to fall in harm’s way again, never leave her to face life alone. No, they will stand tall through it all. Together. 

“I love you too,” he whispers. “I love you too.”

[jo-harrington]

You weren't some spectacular beauty, or otherworldly siren, or heavenly angel that he would expect in a fantasy novel or a DnD game. You were, quite frankly, a mess. But as you turned and nodded your head along to the music, Eddie swore his heartbeat was louder than Mickey's relentless assault on the drums. He approached you at the end of the set as you sat at the bar nursing a cherry coke and circling want ads in the classified section of the Hawkins Post. He asked you if you liked cheese fries before he even said hello. And the laugh you made was loud and honking, but it was nevertheless perfect. You were a disaster made, he hoped, just for him.

From the AASB Prequel: Heaven

Ok this was something incredibly self-indulgent. Thank you to the supremely talented @floredaqueen for this amazing character design sheet for Heaven-era Knight from As Above, So Below.

Flo saw the vision, she helped me hone in on some of the character design that I've been struggling conveying on my own when I commission pieces with Knight and Eddie together. Aside from my original self-insert sketch sheet from Kelso (don't look at me), I usually tell artists "if you want to draw a fem!Steve/Stevie that's totally ok" and while this is not far from either of those things, it's like...I'm squealing. That's her. That's Knight on the page, not going to kick monster ass yet...but soon.

I'm already in love with Flo's art and style but the whole experience was just amazing and the absolute attention to detail that went into this whole thing. (I know I'm only posting one piece/aspect of it but there are LAYERS to this that are gonna stay in my little AASB ref folder and my heart until the end of time.)

And if you're thinking of any kind of art, need help with character design, I cannot recommend Flo enough.

Thank you again Flo!

[daisynik7]

hi nikki, congratulations on 2k! it's so deserved <3

for your event, can I request sk8er boi by avril lavigne with nanami specifically "he was a punk, she did ballet" + fluff

thank you <3

Sk8er Boi

He was a punk, she did ballet, what more can I say?

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

cw: fluff, modern day au, no curses au, college au, reader is a ballet dancer, Nanami is a musician and a skaterboarder

Summary: You’ve had a crush Kento Nanami ever since you first saw in him your class, dressed in the typical skater boy attire with baggy jeans and flannel shirt wrapped loosely around his waist. You don’t ever expect to cross paths any further until you find out that he’ll be performing as part of the orchestra for your spring recital. Soon, you learn that the two of you, despite your seemingly obvious differences, are more compatible than meets the eye.

Author’s Note: Thank you for this request @75songs and for always supporting my Nanami content, I appreciate you so much! This is such a fun song for the y2k karaoke party, I really had a blast writing it. I did a bit of research on ballet, so to any/all my ballet dancers on here, I apologize if I got any details completely wrong or inaccurate! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated, thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! Divider credit to @/saradika.

You’re drawn to Kento Nanami from the start, ever since you first lay eyes on him spring semester of your junior year in Music Appreciation. It’s a small class, no more than thirty people in the lecture hall early morning on a Monday. It’s not uncommon for students to travel around campus on a longboard or skateboard, but when you notice Nanami put his on the rack, donned in ripped baggy jeans, white tee, and a blue checkered flannel wrapped around his waist, you can’t help holding your gaze on him a little longer than necessary. As a dance major, with a concentration in ballet, you’re used to your classes being filled with the same people you’ve been with since freshman year. So, when you spot someone new, someone different, it sparks your interest. There’s nothing wrong with admiring from afar, right?  

Two months pass of you crushing on him in secret, sneaking glances during lecture, your heart skipping a beat whenever you spy on him outside of class either in the library or cafeteria. You would have never expected your paths to actually cross in March, when your troupe prepares for the spring recital. Mei Mei, your ballet master, instructs you all to gather at the main theater on campus to meet the orchestra, who will be performing the music for the concert. To your pleasant surprise, Nanami is among the ensemble, carrying a bass clarinet in his hands. 

“This is our grand orchestra for this spring’s recital,” Mei Mei introduces. “They are some of the finest musicians in the city. Some of them are even your fellow peers here from the university. I expect you all to show them your utmost respect and gratitude for volunteering their time to make this concert spectacular.”

You give them a round of applause, eyes flickering to Nanami, wearing his usual skater boy attire. His gaze meets yours, and he smiles, giving you a small wave. Heat rushes into your cheeks, tummy fluttering nervously, flustered by the fact that he’s acknowledged you. You search around, trying to see if it’s someone next to you that he’s waving at instead, but neither of your neighbors seem aware of him. When you look back, his attention is elsewhere, and the moment passes as quickly as it occurred.

The following Monday, you’re early as usual to class. You set up your laptop and take the extra time to people watch, especially eager to see one particular person. He arrives to the lecture hall with about three minutes to spare, placing his skateboard on the rack. Today, he’s in a black V-neck with a familiar logo on his chest, his collarbones barely visible. You expect him to take his usual spot on the other side of the room, a few rows ahead. When he walks towards you, beelining to the empty seat on your left, you’re dumbfounded, hastily collecting yourself as he asks, “Is this taken?”

You shake your head, attempting a smile, unable to coherently forms words into a proper response. He murmurs a soft, “Thank you,” before sitting down, retrieving his laptop to set in front of him. The professor still hasn’t arrived, and for the first time, you’re actually wishing they would to offer a distraction from this unusual situation. 

Nanami clears his throat, turning to face you. “We haven’t properly met yet. I’m Kento Nanami. I recognized you the other day from class. I’m excited to see your performance for the spring recital.”

You introduce yourself, too nervous to meet his gaze, instead focusing on his neck, which only flusters you further. “I’m excited to hear your performance as well. Are you a music major?”

“Yes, music education to be more precise. I want to be a music teacher.”

You smile, relaxing a bit with the easy flow of conversation. “What a coincidence. I want to be a ballet teacher.”

His expression brightens. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Wow,” he muses, eyes twinkling at you. 

Maybe it’s just in your head, but there’s a spark. And when the professor finally arrives, you wish you could take back what you thought earlier, because now, you want nothing more but to be distracted by Nanami. 

~~~

Since that day, you and Nanami talk with each other every chance you get. Before lecture, on the way to your next class, the few minutes until practice starts, and even after, as he walks you to your on-campus apartment with his skateboard tucked under his arm. You learn that he plays a variety of instruments, including bass clarinet, drums, even a little bit of piano. His true passion is bass guitar, which he plays for his band Black Flash. As if you could like him any more than you already do, the thought of seeing him up on a stage, fingers working nimbly on the strings, slapping a riff with that smooth expression on his face does wonders to your heart. You’re shy every time he compliments your dancing, waving him off to say that you still have work to do to improve your technique, make your moves cleaner, more precise. Still, he continues to praise you, in awe of your flexibility and gracefulness. Sometimes, you’ll catch him staring at you from the pit when Mei Mei pauses the music to focus on a certain movement.  

A week before the recital, Nanami waits for you after practice to collect your belongings. You forgot to mention to him earlier that you’ll be staying behind to break in your new pointe shoes, a process that takes a while. “Just go ahead without me,” you tell him.

He lingers while you sit down on the stage, a hard mat in front of you, unboxing your shoes. “What are you doing?”

“Pointe shoes are very stiff, so I have to break them in before I can dance in them properly,” you explain. 

“What do you mean ‘break in’?” He peers at you with a curious expression on his face, kneeling down to sit beside you. 

You smile at him, clapping your shoes together to create a loud noise. “Hear how hard these are? I’m going to bash them against this mat to soften them up.”

“Bash them?” 

“Yup. Like this.” You proceed to smash the sole against the mat repeatedly, enjoying how Nanami gapes at you, shocked. You giggle at him, handing him the other half. “You can help me with this if you want. It’s a nice form of stress relief, right?”

He reaches into his pocket for his phone. “Sounds like a good opportunity to play some music.”

You scoot closer to him. “You should play something by Black Flash,” you request, smirking at him.

“Really? You want to hear something from us?”

“Absolutely.”

He smiles at you, a subtle blush surrounding his cheeks. “Okay.”

For the next half hour, you whack your shoes to the beat of the music, listening carefully for the smooth bass, knowing it’s Nanami. He watches you test them out with Black Flash still playing in the background, stretching and swiveling in them to mold to your feet properly. Usually, you’re alone or with your troupe doing this, and it’s as uneventful as you’d imagine. But with Nanami, this ordinary task is special. You appreciate him being so interested in your passion, even if it is vastly different from his own. You would have never expected the mysterious skater boy from your class to be holding your ballet shoes in hand or clapping politely as you stand on pointe for him, impressed by your skill. And you would have never expected yourself to fall so head over heels for him. 

~~~

The spring recital is a massive success. Mei Mei bows in front of the standing ovation, holding a fresh bouquet of flowers in her hands. She points at the orchestra in the pit, giving them her unending thanks. You glance over at Nanami, looking professional and handsome in his black-tie attire, though you can’t help but miss the typical baggy jeans and basic tee he usually wears. 

Backstage, exhausted but still buzzing with excitement, you all remove your makeup together, discussing the after party. “Are you coming with us? Or are you planning to go out with your boyfriend?” Your friend, Hana, smirks at you through the reflection in the mirror, wiping off her eyeshadow.

Before you can respond, the other dancer beside you scoffs. “Isn’t he a punk or something? What would your parents say if they knew you were dating him?”

Her blatant rudeness shocks you, and you’re unsure how to respond, blood gradually boiling with anger. Luckily, your friend does. “What the hell are you talking about, Kimi? Do you even know him?”

She barks a crude laugh. “I mean, just look at him. He’s always wearing those baggy clothes. You’re telling me she,” Kimi points to you, “will ever get with a guy like him?”

Your friend glares at her, ready to argue, but you interfere, mustering the courage to speak up for yourself, and for Nanami. “He’s a great guy who’s been nothing but sweet and kind to me. Not that it matters, but I happen to like his clothes. And you know what else? I like Nanami, so yes, I would get with a guy like him. So, I would appreciate it if you kept your judgmental attitude to yourself from now on.” 

Conveniently finished removing your stage makeup, you pack your bag, turning your back to her, giving Hana a passing high-five on your way out. 

~~~

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to go there like this?” You sit in the passenger seat of Nanami’s car, dressed in leggings and a comfortable t-shirt, an hour after your performance. He met you outside the theater back in his usual get-up with a dozen roses in his hands, congratulating you. After, you went out for burgers, it was then that he invited you to watch Black Flash tonight at one of the local venues downtown. 

“Of course. You look great, as always,” he answers, grinning at you. “Are you sure you want to go to this? I know there’s probably an after party you’d much rather attend – ”

You interrupt him gently, smiling. “I’d much rather be here than anywhere else right now.” 

When you arrive to the venue, Nanami leads you through the crowd, acknowledging some of the workers as he passes by, making his way backstage. There, you meet his bandmates: Gojo the guitarist, Geto who does lead vocals and guitar, and Shoko, the drummer. They all greet you politely, teasing Nanami for “finally bringing a date to the show.” He blushes, ignoring them, quietly setting up, tuning his bass. 

By the time Black Flash is ready to perform, your new friends direct you back to the audience to watch them. You maneuver your way through the throng of people, taking your spot near the front, wanting a good view of them, especially Nanami. When the MC announces their name, the crowd goes wild, hooting and hollering for them as they walk across the stage, waving at their fans like true rockstars. Your chest fills with adrenaline, heart pumping with excitement, attention focused on Nanami as he stands to the left, guitar hanging low with the strap wrapped around his shoulders. He glances up, searching the audience until his eyes land on yours; he smiles at you, giving you a small wave with his free hand, the left cradling the neck delicately.

As soon as the music starts, the bass reverberates from the speakers and up the soles of your feet, electrifying every nerve in your body. You recognize the song they’re playing; it reminds you of the week before, when you were bashing your pointe shoes against the hard mat, nodding your head along to the music. You’ve since added Black Flash into your daily playlist, listening to it often, imagining Nanami grooving with the bass nestled in his hands. His talent is other worldly; just a few hours ago, he was decked out in a suit, performing in an orchestra, and now he’s out here, rocking the stage with his fellow bandmates. Your pulse quickens, exhilarated by the familiar music and the realization that your little crush on Nanami is much more serious than you originally thought. 

~~~

Nanami skips the band’s invitation for a late-night bite to take you back to campus. In the car, you ask, “Are you sure you don’t want to go with them? I can find another way home easily.”

“I’d much rather be here than anywhere else right now,” he says, repeating the same answer you gave him earlier. You smile, holding each other’s gaze a second longer before he starts driving. 

You babble on and on about how impressive the show was, how completely starstruck you became by the end of it. “The bass really comes through when you’re playing live! I felt it in my soul, especially during ‘Overtime’. I think that might be my favorite song.”

He pulls up to the parking lot down the street from your complex, turning off the ignition. “I’m really happy you came tonight. I know you must be tired.”

“Are you kidding?!” you exclaim, shifting in your seat to face him. “I got a second wind as soon as you started playing! Yeah, my feet are a little sore, so I’ll definitely need to ice them tomorrow morning, but oh my gosh! That was truly amazing! I can’t believe I got to see Black Flash live in concert – ”

He leans into you, interrupting your rambling with a soft kiss on the lips. His hand slides around the nape of your neck, pulling you in deeper, and after the initial shock of it all, you melt into him, mouths moving seamlessly with each other. You only stop to catch your breath, pressing your forehead to his, whispering his name. “Nanami.” 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters, breaking apart from you, burying his face in his hands. “I should have asked if it was okay with you first. I just…I lost control because you’re so sweet, and so beautiful, and I – ”

“Nanami,” you say again, smiling at him. You pull his hands away from him, brushing your lips along his skin, kissing him softly on each knuckle. “I liked it. I like you.”

He swallows thickly, eyes widening at your confession. “You do?”

“Can I make it any more obvious?” you giggle. 

He lets out a relieved laugh, cheeks rounded with happiness, nuzzling his nose to yours. “I really like you too. I’ve liked you from the start.”

[joyburble]

So, we see Donfang Qingcang reading on screen several times, and I think it's an important character message.

On encountering a problem, in episode 4, that can't be addressd by violence, what is the first thing our character does? He RTFMs. He sends Shanque to fetch the Fucking Manual, and he Reads It. What. In fact, they both read it, at least until they find the right bit.

Iconic. And adorable.

Definitely much less surprising in a Chinese genre than it would be in any English-language genre. But this section is so spectacular I want to give it a lot of weight.

The scroll is extremely long. He baulks, for a second, at the length,

but this, his face says, cannot possibly defeat him: he backs himself (I love it) and gets down to work.

It's illustrated. I'd love to hear from someone who can read any part of the text. He engages in detail with the content.

He continues in episode 5, having made some progress, and still backing himself to work out what it all means.

He takes it out on the balcony to study it by daylight. When his plans don't succeed at first, he doesn't reject the information, he thinks about it harder and compares it with the data.

Then something interesting happens: after making Orchid's tummyache better, he sits down, and without any stated reason tries to read something else, which looks like a completely normal book:

He can't focus because she's so sad, but we get a glimpse of the corner of a title label. When he puts it down, we can see it's a paperback stitched in the traditional Chinese manner.

It could be anything, but looks a reasonable size for a novel. There are also some other books on the table. Maybe they're technical works from Xiao Lanhua's library, and he's just bored and curious?

This wouldn't be as clear if it was the only example, or if we saw other characters repeatedly reading. But I don't think we do.

In episode 18 post-whump we learn again that what he does to relax and distract himself, when in pain and/or wanting attention, is read a book. It's a slim volume with a vertical format and a pretty, embellished cover. Perhaps a book of poems?

In Episode 26, now knowing he is loved, he is reading for fun again, with no explanation asked or given. Another sewn book, but in this case it has a hard cover with a shiny and colourful design. What could it be? Who knows? It seems to be making him smile a little.

The message we are getting, here, is that what he does when he wants to relax and enjoy life, is read. We’re supposed to understand that in his natural disposition, minus his father’s crimes and his profession of violence, he is a gentleman and a scholar. He is curious. He is capable of handling new information. He has brains and capabilities and ingenuity. He has a big ego, but he can put it in the engine room, not the driving seat. It's a gently-delivered message, but I think it contributes a lot to our perception of the character.

In dream-world episode 31, he is reading a scroll with Xiao Lanhua. Are they reading a story to each other? Doing the voices?

So apparently in his imagination it's a bonding activity too: you can read together with a person you love and share your reactions. A bit like you and I are doing now.

Finally, I think they published this behind-the-scenes shot for a reason (thank you @moonsupremesblog, and I'm sorry this probably should have been a reblog of this post but I got too far in before I remembered)

We can see it's Dylan Wang referring to a script, but we do a double-take because it's totally in character, the lighting, composition, and depth-of-field intentionally reinforce that effect, and we have to look at the plastic cover and the little place-tags to realise it isn't.

[seoafin]

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader warnings/tags: 18+, somewhat nsfw, gojo with yandere leanings, masturbation, gojo's not so normal POV word count: ~3.3k

18+

-

The first time Satoru sets his gaze upon you, you are not even an extra in the story he has envisioned for his grand high school life, you are barely even a footnote.

You’re thirty minutes late, you wear the wrong uniform, and you fall back asleep not even ten minutes into class. You’re quiet and airheaded, speak only when spoken to, and you are more unassuming than you are anything else.

You also irritate him.

Or at least, that's what he assumes it is. It’s completely irrational. It’s not the same irritation he feels when Suguru intentionally goads him on. That feeling burns bright and quick. It’s playful. It’s fun. The two of them usually end up working it out with their fists until they lay splayed about on the grass, chests heaving.

It’s a piercing annoyance, sparked by your presence, a twinge of something sharp in his abdomen. Like the feeling of being stabbed. At first he thought it was the way he'd follow Suguru's gaze, only to find you at the end of it. And then it was everything. 

Gojo-san, you’re not very used to people saying no to you, are you?  There was no ill will in your voice. Just a calm, logical certainty that rubbed him in all the wrong ways.

And what about it?  Satoru had snapped back, teeth bared, annoyed that nothing had gone according to plan that day. He didn’t need a nobody like you to rub his shortcomings in his face. Suguru already did that enough for both of them.

You simply looked right at him without a hint of sympathy, and walked away.

And thus, after the spectacular failure of your first shared mission, he had been completely content to ignore your already insignificant presence. Until you started smiling. First at Ieiri, and then at Suguru. Apathy lifting away from your face like the sun parting stormy clouds in those few seconds. He couldn’t look away.

Ieiri-san had become Shoko, and Geto-san had become Suguru, and he was still Gojo-san.

He doesn’t care. If he’s irritated, it’s because he hates that blank look on your face when you regard him more than anything. It makes him want to take your face, wrap his fingers around your chin, and make you acknowledge him. And then maybe this infuriating feeling running him ragged would finally disperse. He wants to see you fall apart, taste the salt of your tears on his tongue, dig his fingers into the flesh of your arms and thighs and leave his mark, just to make sure you actually exist.

A living, breathing human being. Not just a specter conjured up to drive him to insanity. You are alive, but you don’t act like it.

He doesn’t like it.

It takes him a little longer (just until you smile at him and offer him the rest of your baked goods as a silent peace offering) for him to realize, it’s not you he doesn’t like. It’s never been you he dislikes.

….

The man rattles off next to him about alliances, clan security, heirs, duty, and too many other things Satoru could give less of a shit about, and all he can think about is whether or not you’ve eaten.

Something new has been occupying your attention (or, a much more accurate term might be obsession ), and paired with your tendency to forgo basic bodily functions such as eating at times, it’s a recipe for disaster.

This time, from what he’s gathered from your sparse, uncontextualized texts, it’s ancient scrolls dating back to the Nara period detailing some area in what is now Hakodate and some ancient curse that had terrorized the villagers who had eventually ended up calling on some second-rate Kamo sorcerer to seal it in the mountains. From the last text you had sent (SKI RESORT? 2:42 ) he wouldn’t be surprised to hear there are construction plans to build a ski resort atop of the sealed area which spells more work for him and more time away from you. 

Satoru wonders whether or not you’ve eaten.

If you continue at the rate he expects you to be at, by now the fatigue should be hindering your sight. If you’re in the library, you’ll wait it out until the last possible moment to grab a granola bar or maybe something from the vending machines. Not real food. If Shoko were at the school, she’d drag you out on her lunch break and force you to eat something somewhat decent. But she isn’t. One of the rare times she’s been called away on an emergency, an important higherup who can’t make the journey to the school. 

So you’re at the college. No supervision or oversight, wasting away, fascinated by some odd obscure detail like the type of paper used during that period that most people wouldn’t give a second thought to.

If you would just answer his texts—

The woman seated across from him, whose demure gaze had been lowered to the table for the entirety of the conversation, peeks up, as if the curiosity has won out. He catches her eyes through the darkness of his sunglasses, and he stills the fingers that had been impatiently drumming on the wooden table.

You’re being disrespectful.

Even after all this time, he stills hears the light, chiding, exasperation of Suguru’s voice like it was just yesterday that the two of them were together, shoulders bumping, jostling, brushing. Talk properly. No slang. Proper honorifics. Wipe that look off your face. Stop slouching.  

Satoru smiles, despite his burning need to be on the closest bullet train back to Tokyo. She blushes. Re-lowers her gaze, a timid, pleased smile touching her lips. He doesn’t even know her name. She’s dressed in an intricate furisode reminiscent of the sea, deep indigo tinged with overlapping colors of blue, and the obi that ties it all together is shaped like seashell. He supposes it’s a nod to the clan’s long standing association to the sea and its prized inherited cursed technique. It’s cute. It’s been too long since he’s seen you in a yukata or kimono.

He’ll buy you an assortment of them, all the colors that would compliment you, silks and fabrics that you have no use for other than to please him. Everything he wants to see you in. You’ll wear them, albeit in confusion, but you’ll do it. 

For him, you’ll do it. 

The man, her father, watches the exchange with greedy delight.

This would’ve never happened if he had been a little quicker to leave despite the ensuing cries of propriety and rude behavior. You’re the one always telling him he could stand to be a little more gracious , more understanding of how others perceive him, and he wants to snort. You are one of the most audacious people he knows, and you don't even realize it. Brazen at times, in ways that has people stunned into silence before you absentmindedly walk off. You are as polite and understanding as a feral, unsocialized creature, and he would keep you tucked away in the palm of his hand if he could. 

He just can’t leave you alone.

Satoru decides to take you out tonight. That new michelin star that opened up recently, a molecular gastronomy restaurant in the heart of Akasaka that’ll have you fascinated by how the food is prepared. That ought to keep you busy for hours, and Satoru could stare at you, listen to you, rambling about one thing or another for hours. Everytime he looks at you, he discovers something new.

The man licks his lips eagerly, in anticipation. “She’s the pride of our family. Her cursed technique is first rate. I’m sure you’ve heard of it? It’ll complement the Gojo heir’s Six Eyes and Infinity better than any other prospects. We might not be as powerful a clan as the Kamo’s or Zenin’s, but we’ve already received offers for her hand from several other distinguished families.” He pauses, under the impression that Satoru is actually listening. “Any heirs the two of you have will be sure to be blessed with—”

Satoru pretends to be surprised, mock shock filling his features. “Is that what this is?”

The man stares at him, composure temporarily failing. The woman across from him lifts her head, doe-like blinks. 

“And here I thought you were introducing me to your heir,” Satoru replies. “Y’know, the one inheriting your clan when you kick the bucket!”

Probably not the best choice of words. The man’s eyes nearly bulge out of their socket in horror or shock, but Satoru is already standing up and crossing the room, all pretenses of politely listening thrown out the door in his haste to make his way to you. The woman who had previously been unable to look at him stares at him, as if the idea never occurred to her.

“You said it yourself,” he says, halfway out the door. He looks over his shoulder. “Isn’t she the only one who inherited your clan’s inherited technique? Seems a bit of a waste, if you ask me.”

Then he’s navigating the twists and turns of the Kamo compound, whistling as servants quickly side step him, averting his gaze and path like he’s a missile on a path of destruction. He steps outside into the fading orange of the sunset, the air brisk with autumn, and he inhales and exhales, oddly happy.

It is a waste, he decides. It’s a useful cursed technique, strong and versatile. Instead of honing her skills and training, her days are spent being paraded like a prize horse, for the possibility that lies in her womb, all while he fields the never-ending complaints about the shortages in manpower.

He’s about to call a cab when a voice stops him.

“Excuse me!”

He turns. The man is a bit shorter than him. Black hair, dark eyes, dressed in a typical traditional dark yukata. There’s a katana in his hand. The man notices his staring, and In one smooth movement the katana is sheathed. The movement is familiar, recognizable.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “We haven’t met. Hideo Kamo.”

Satoru’s interest is piqued when the man raises his hand to shake his. He takes it. He doesn’t have to introduce himself, but he does it anyway. 

“Gojo Satoru, at your service!”

A sheepish grin overtakes Hideo’s face. “This might be a little forward…but I heard you attended Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. There’s…someone I used to know that also attended. I believe she would’ve been in your class.”

An acquaintance of Shoko’s? This might be worthwhile—

When Hideo says your name, Satoru blinks.

He knows you spent time in the Kamo compound a little after your father died. The Kamo clan had offered to take you in for an unspecified period, to get you acquainted with the jujutsu world. Self-benefit disguised as goodwill. They had been temporarily interested in your cursed technique. 

You don’t speak of it much, goodnaturedly shrugging off all his attempts to pry with a bland, “It was just a couple of months.” A year and three months. “They taught me how to use the katana.” And your cursed technique. “Nobody really bothered with me other than that.” You worth had been gauged. You weren’t good enough for a first son, or even a fourth. They lost interest.

He can imagine you, barely eight, heartbroken and devastated by the loss of your parents. Almost mute, and obedient. To the world, uninterested. Just another expendable child.

There is someone who knows the person you were before him. There is someone privy to your past in a way he isn’t. You were something, someone, even more smaller and miserable than you had been the first time he met you, before him.

Before him.

It—

It irks him. Like the buzzing of a mosquito hovering too close to his ear, one good slap away from being flattened to death by his hand.

He idly runs his thumb over the ridges of his nails, bored. 

“I—ah,” Hideo looks faintly embarrassed. “I would love to reconnect, if possible, so if you could…” There’s a piece of paper between his thumb and index.

Satoru smiles. It comes with teeth. Menacing. There’s some satisfaction when Hideo falters. Then Satoru plucks the number out of his hand.

“I’ll be sure to give it to her,” Satoru promises reassuringly, and he’s met with a relieved smile.

“That would be greatly appreciated, Gojo-sama.” Hideo says. “If you could tell her—” he hesitates, before firmly meeting his gaze. “I remember her.”

…

The strip of paper stays crumbled in his pocket. It never sees the light of day again.

Later, he takes you to dinner and you talk about all the different types of era-pecific curse sealing methods and you smile. At him, at the beautiful restaurant, at the waiter. He was right. The food fascinates you more than it does to taste it. How it’s made. The science behind the foam, and the gel-like flavorful bead substances that pop in your mouth, and the apples that taste like grapes. You want to know everything about it. Take it apart. Reconstruct it.

He listens to you talk to the waiter, eager to put his knowledge to the test, while he chimes in here and there with some questions and statements about molecules and atoms and the philosophical nature of taste and hunger. You are mesmerized. A lesser man would feel ignored, he supposes. Unable to understand the fluid nature of your attention, the same as it was in high school when he was a hotheaded teenager who didn’t understand the way your mind worked. Exceedingly simple things turned twisted and complicated in your head.

You haven’t forgotten about him, not for one second. You look at him and there is love in your eyes, and it is all for him. He won’t share it with anyone else.

The person that you are now belongs to him. Your future, too. Your smiles and your laughter. Your misery and contempt. He’ll take it all into him. The softness of your gaze when you look at him. The nights you lie on his chest, and he finds himself undone and remade, all by your touch.

I remember her.

What a joke.

If Hideo saw you — the you you are now, that has shaped him as much as he has shaped you— he wouldn’t remember a thing.

…

You sleep like the dead.

That hasn’t changed since high school. If the earthquake ripped through Tokyo while you were asleep, you’d wake up miles beneath the ground, hours after. You sleep, body slightly curled, face buried into your comforter, eyes closed, breathing so light some might panic listening to it. You sleep in the same manner that reflects the person you used to be: silent and small, scared to take up the same space others don’t think twice about occupying. 

Satoru is too restless to join you in slumber. He also finds himself needing it less and less. Sleep. A byproduct of constantly running the reverse cursed technique. As long as he’s not doing anything too mind numbingly strenuous, his brain is locked in a constant cycle of renewal. It’s also a fact that he isn’t keen on letting become public knowledge. His nights are already spoken for. 

So he strips and takes a shower, changing into the sweats he hadn’t bothered to take back to his apartment. At this point, your room is filled with more of his items than yours. Perfunctory bed, desk, dresser, bookshelf. You have pictures, old polaroids of him and Shoko. No Suguru. He wonders where those photographs have gone. A bouquet of orchids he had bought you the day after graduation, touched by your cursed technique. Your clothes. His clothes. Spare sunglasses on the top of your drawer. One in your bathroom. Another on the table in the living room.

He’s warm and still wet from his shower as he sits on the side of your bed, watching you sleep. He reaches out, and pokes your cheek. Not hard enough to wake you up, but hard enough to make an indent. Your slumber continues, undisturbed. 

Maybe he’s feeling a little mean, like he had been in high school when he wanted nothing more than to make you see him. That Satoru probably would’ve shaken you awake. Look at me. Satoru wanted you to be awake. He wanted to hear your voice. But now he thinks it’s not so bad to be the first thing you see when you wake up. 

He pinches your cheek, pulls at it, slightly squeezing it. Then chuckles under his breath at how it makes you look like a chipmunk. Your brows furrow and he lets go, thumb reverently smoothing over the flesh. You breathe into his hand, and his fingers twitch, curling around empty air as if he could capture your very essence. 

You shift away, and the strap of the tank top that barely covers your abdomen slips off your shoulder. It exposes more than he can take. He takes in the steady rise and fall of your chest, the hardening of your nipples through the slip of fabric, the low rise of your shorts, and his sweats are uncomfortably tight. It’s a reminder, a throwback to the youth he had been.

If he was in high school, he’d stalk back to his room, hard, furiously rubbing himself to the image of those stupid cotton panties of yours he had accidentally caught a flash of because of an ill timed breeze of wind when you bent over. Or the wet dress shirt you had been wearing caught in the rain, revealing a plain white bra that had soaked through. Then he’d think about Suguru. And then you and Suguru, overlapping fantasies and perverted angles and the pressure would build in his gut while he nearly choked on his moans, on his desire, the need of it all. Then he’d spill into his hand, hips frantically bucking into empty air, at the thought of sticking his cum stained fingers in your mouth, down your throat. Of you letting him. Letting him do whatever he wanted.

He’s still not ready to join you in bed, so he snoops through your room.

He looks through your photographs, your books, your clothes. Nothing’s changed much from high school room other than a splash of color. You’re still a work in progress. 

He opens the dresser. Utilitarian underwear. Of course. Plain cotton and—

Lace.

Multiple pairs. Black, white, blue—

He stares, finger catching on one specific pair as he tugs it up into his hand. Sky blue, with lace lining the edges and a small bow in the middle. Shoko’s doing no doubt. The thought of you wearing lace panties underneath your usual manner of dress sends heat racing through his body. It’s not as if he had ever not wondered if you’d let him tug up your school skirt to expose the panties you had been wearing that day. 

A rush of unbidden desire travels straight to his cock and he’s already half hard, wondering when you deem it appropriate to wear lace panties instead of your usual cotton ones, if you’ve ever worn them when with him—

He’s no stranger to sexual desire and attention. The way men and women look at him. If he’s feeling it, he entertains the flirtations, the draw of their lips, and if he’s in a rarer, sparser mood, the touch of their body. But even that pales in comparison to the time he spends with you alone, in this space the two of you have carved out away from the duties and tasks daylight demands.

Satoru would give you anything and everything, if you wanted it. He always wants you, in every way, in any way you’ll take him. He wants you so badly he can’t breathe at times. He would lay himself down at your side, at your feet, and take, take, take anything you have to offer. (You would offer everything.)

And he knows he won’t be able to stop once he starts, so he waits. Until the day he can’t.

He takes another shower. Cold water. And when he’s done, he slides into the space next to you. You nuzzle into him, and he rearranges himself to bring you closer. Feels the soft beat of your heart pressed against him. The two of you, together.

[afatallovesong]

Happy New Year you wonderful human! Pleeeease tell me you’re gracing us with more Calum goodness soon?! You’re my favourite writer. Loves

Ask and you shall receive... eventually! This has been a labour of love, I've been writing it on and off since November. Its one of my longest fics so far (I'm sorry) but I really think you'll like it! If there's any mistakes, mind ya business.

Happy birthday to the main man himself

At Your Convenience

A Calum Hood one shot

18+, Smut, NSFW

Word Count: 15,821

You’re fucking tired. It was actually starting to become painful just how tired you were. It hurt to keep your eyes open. It hurt to close them even for a second. They were so insanely dry from tiredness that they’d become sore. Each blink felt like repetitive razor sharp cuts. You’d have done just about anything for a cat nap instead of restocking the shelves. The sun glaring through the window as it started to set didn’t help. You were squinting and covering your line of sight as much as you could, but it still pierced through, targeting you especially, some evil vendetta against you. Its drying your corneas even faster, you really didn’t think it was possible. You manage a not-so-elegant yawn, barely covering the gaping black hole your mouth created. Only four more hours to go. Four more hours of this.

Its crisp and cold out. The early signs of winter were rolling into the city. The leaves were now lacking existence. Fallen branches scattering pavements, cracked under leather docs. Breaths were seen in the air as well as heard. Cheeks and noses were rosy with the bite of a harsh incoming wind. The sun was beginning to set just a little before 6pm. The darkness befalling the streets of California. Calum had often liked a walk at sunset. There was something oddly calming about it. Watching the world carry on as the day was meeting its end. It’s not that he’d even see much of the sun’s disappearance with all the buildings and lights and the busy billboards, but he’d known it was there. He’d known it was leaving him.

He liked walking home in the dark too. The city was so vastly different like that. The stores, the staff that changed over, the people you found wandering through. People were teaming and seemingly bustling with character, not all good, in some circumstances maybe even foul but certainly more outgoing than the daylight crowd. Some were tired and rushed off home from work. Often moving so fast he’d nearly been trampled down into the pavement twice. For the most part, the characters could only be described as friendly, interesting, and easy to watch going by. None could have captivated him quite as much as you though. He’d soon find that out. His friends and family would never describe him as particularly observant, this ought to prove them wrong.

He’d been across the street, a little over 10 feet away maybe when his eyes set upon your figure. It seemed as if the building encasing you hadn’t been there at all. Like you were just stood there on the street corner exposed to winter air as much as he was. The concrete cage above and around you, merely an afterthought. He’d spotted you with an impressively keen eye. He could pin point any detail about you from the style of your hair to the colour of each stripe on your shirt. He may even go as far as to say he’d memorised the order they appeared in. Light blue, dark blue, off white, and black, and repeat and repeat. You weren’t doing anything spectacular to catch his attention in the way that you did. He just knew that you had and now he was stuck watching you on a loop. Stood restocking shelves by the window, a couple of bags in each hand. Despite the averageness of it all, he’d felt the world stand still, calling him inside, calling him to you. The girl in the window.

He went completely unnoticed by you at first. He was thankful for that. You’d had a delivery that morning and spent most of the day painstakingly unboxing and replacing items running low around the store. You were at the last one, placing individual packets of chips on the shelf and the rack beside it. You decided to organise them into rainbow order, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. You had a little song about it, so you knew. You’d been foolish to assume you’d had the whole colour palette. You try to invent a flavour for indigo and violet to rectify that. You could send a strongly worded sales pitch to Lays. For now, though, you were stood atop a step ladder to reach the highest shelf. You weren’t exactly short, but the additional height did come in handy when you couldn’t find the energy to stretch higher than what was natural. Its only as the sun tucks itself away, do you finally brave peering out of the window again for some form of escape.

He catches your eye as you hover there, throwing the cardboard box, now empty, down on the ground behind you. In the space it took you to finish the task and turn back around, he’d crossed the street now looking at you from the corner. He hoped he didn’t look weird. He definitely looked weird. You don’t think much of the exchange at first. But as the seconds escalate you find yourself partaking in a little staring contest. You’d felt that burning sensation in your eyes again after a short while. Just as you go to blink it away, he’d gone. You half wondered if you’d hallucinated his appearance in the first place. Stranger things had happened after a long day after all. Whether real or not, you’d lost the contest. You knew that much. You took your loss and patted down your thighs in defeat. 

The door opened with a collection of high pitched tones from your butterfly wind chime above it. It’s just as alarming as it was when you’d first started working there. You thought you would have acclimatised by now but a mixture of tiredness and a slow moving day in store had you beat. So instead, you found yourself jumping out of your skin. You were lucky you didn’t fall. It might have been a more exciting day if you had. You may return to the idea if the day dragged out any longer.

You managed to get back on the ground safely. Your ladders were folded and slotted back against the window where you’d retrieved them from. Your cardboard box now back in your hands to flatten for the recycling bin out back. For now, you’d rest it near the ladders, but you may as well complete half the job while you’re at it to save you doing more than necessary later on. Judging by your exhaustion now, it would be the last thing on your agenda at 10pm. Plus you were never one to leave a customer unsupervised in store. You may have been tired, but you weren’t stupid. 

He stepped inside, warmth flooding around him, engulfing him in a large hug. It was a California summer amongst the shelves and aisles. At least that’s how pleasant it had felt. Now that he thought about it, that was a horrible way to describe somewhere that sold fresh food. It’d be a nightmare for food hygiene and longevity. He might have been a touch hasty in his earlier description. It was undeniably cosy though, that was a better fit for it. It was a pleasure to be shielded from the cold.

His eyes easily floated back to you now that he’d entered your space. That was probably just as creepy as it sounded. He didn’t have any sort of plan in mind for entering the store, he never usually did. He’d just made it inside and assumed that that would be enough but of course it wasn’t. It would never have satiated his need to meet you. But he couldn’t just stand in the doorway with his hands in his pockets watching you like some sort of weirdo. Which admittedly, was exactly what he was currently doing. Until he snapped out of it and shuffled himself down the next aisle. He had to approach you somehow though. He’d made it this far; he should follow through.

He could see you through the shelving. There were gaps between produce and items without height, quite similarly to bookshelves in a library. The more he looked the more he could make that comparison. Were these second hand shelves? The shop wasn’t as tiny as it looked from outside either. There were at least 5 short aisles which considering the location, was impressive. The old convenience store seemed no larger than a matchbox from out there. Now he’d stepped inside he’d argue it was more of a healthy apartment, or maybe a doctors waiting room. Yes, those really were the best locations he could think of.

He couldn’t help but notice how the light still caught you as he peered through the confectionary to the place where you stood. The light was illuminating your striped shirt and little blue waistcoat resting in coordination on top. It also bounced off the shiny, scribbled out name badge hooked into the left pocket. He wondered why you hadn’t gotten your name printed. Perhaps you were new here. He’d never seen you in here before. He’d like to think he’d remember you if he had. Not that he was the biggest or most loyal customer to ‘Convenience Corner,’ but he had made it inside once or twice before. It was mostly while drunk, just picking up extra supplies for a party or so but it was enough for him to know. No, he’s certain he’d not seen you before. He ought to find out your name before he forgets to.

“Can I help you?” He jumped at the sound of your voice. It was melodical and cheerful, sweeter than he’d expected. He’d not been prepared to feel even more intrigued by you so soon and in a situation like this no less. You’d caught him staring hadn’t you? He could never show his face in here again if you had. He’d have to leave immediately; God forbid pretend to buy something to make the interaction less awkward. That’s if that was even possible at this point. He wasn’t that sure that it was. His fight or flight had to kick in sooner or later. He looked up from the pack of pistachios his hands seemed to instinctively land on. “Sure, the freezer’s in the back.” He lifts his head to follow your voice with an eyebrow arched. He hadn’t asked for anything in the freezer section. You weren’t speaking to him at all. He’s not sure which was more embarrassing, the fact he was self-centred enough to believe he’d been caught or the fact he was now too aware that he hadn’t been. 

“Guess I’m buying the damn pistachios,” he muttered under his breath before grabbing one packet off the shelf, heading in the direction of check out. He was about to make it there too, before he changed his mind, turning back to grab another just to be safe. Surely it was weirder to buy one packet. Or was that just him? He made his way to the counter for good this time. It was adjacent to the entrance as one might expect, easy escape route if things went south. He hovered in place, occasionally stretching onto the tip of his toes and then back down again as he waited patiently for you or another employee to aid him. Though he hoped, deep down in his soul that it would be you.

During his wait he noticed the green chair behind the register. The chair clad in worn leather, looking about as old as the building itself, tucked away neatly. The next items he spotted were the locked cabinets with indication to liquor and tobacco from the warning labels and age restrictions printed on the doors. The little bronze bell atop the counter was next. Then it was the vintage green radio buzzing to the left of it, sputtering out some classical tune he’d never for the life of him be able to recognise. Then it was the cup of what he assumed was coffee, in a branded cardboard cup he also didn’t recognise.

The more he looked the more he found. The walls were patterned with blue and white vertical stripes. The floor shared the same colour scheme with checker tiles. Suddenly the blue uniform was making sense. The décor reminded him of the 80’s, bright, in your face and yet comforting and familiar. His favourite piece of décor in the whole store had to be the painted sign that read ‘please don’t fucking steal.’ He wondered if it worked much as a deterrent or if he was gullible. His second favourite was the collage of confiscated fake id’s with various graffiti vandalising the faces. He laughed at those harder than he thought he would. The Marlboro’s in rainbow order weren’t far behind.

It was cluttered and unorganised, certainly had an eclectic vibe, but he felt strangely at home in his surroundings. He’d liked that. He’d also liked that the price labels on everything were the same shade of green as the chair and radio, some kind of extreme case of colour coordination. Perhaps there was an ongoing discussion about replacing the walls and flooring. It seemed like the favoured shade in the establishment in its current state, was green. It would look pretty green. He really was dull today.

“Hey, sorry I took so long.” You had appeared behind the counter slightly out of breath, hair swept over one shoulder, slipping down your back in an untidy fashion. You were rubbing the back pockets of your blue jeans, looking from left to right and all around for something, he couldn’t quite fathom what. You’d moved so fast he barely registered your arrival there at all. Let alone be able to guess what you were doing there now. You’d startled him in the best way, rushing in to save him just as he feared he was losing grip on reality.

You’d smelt so sweet, next to the dust heavy, 80’s vibe of the shop floor. You had this fresh aroma of apples mixed with mint or something similar, and he liked it. He really liked it. He could have bottled that up. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you scrambled around. He watched you in awe like he’d never seen a retail worker before in his life. You’d seemed so colourful and lively against the drab old signs pinned behind you and it was absolutely mesmerising to him. What was a girl as bright as you doing in a place as drab as this?

Another customer entered with a gust of wind following shortly after. Trickling that breeze across the back of both your necks. Both your eyes floated over to the doorway and back simultaneously. A shiver had shot up his spine when your eyes had met his for the first time, well second actually. He quite enjoyed the feeling of your gaze on him. “Just those?” You asked sweetly. It took most of the energy you had left to lay it on thick for him.

You never enjoyed taking your tiredness out on customers. Not just because it was unprofessional but because you quite liked other humans. You liked them a lot. They were the sole reason you were employed, sure but you also just liked the experience of your fleeting moments with the rest of the human race. You didn’t need to know their life stories. You didn’t need to chit chat and ask about their day because it was simply polite to do so. Any conversation carried between you and the passers-by, the window shoppers, and the regulars, was a part of your day that you enjoyed and often craved. Somewhere, not so deep down, very clearly found instead, you hoped this new customer would allow you more than just a fleeting moment.

You eyed him with large, soft eyes. A genuine glimmer of happiness was lit within them. Despite the bags beneath them which made his heart ache for you, he thought you had the prettiest eyes he’d seen. So much so that it took him a while to return to you, remembering exactly where he was. Buying something. He watched you peering down to the items he’d handed over, fascinated by literally anything that you did as if it were his first day on earth. And for the love of God, how could someone so tired be so devastatingly beautiful?

“Uh, yeah, that’s it.” He really took over a minute to pause and then came out with that. Pathetic. He’d kick himself for his lack of conversational skills later. For now, he just glanced down to your name tag with curiosity but not enough guts to back it up. You caught him, addressing it immediately. It seemed you were paying just as much attention to him as he was to you. Funny he hadn’t noticed it, since he clearly saw everything else that you did.

“Printing error, would you believe it?” He shook his head, he’s not sure why. “You’d think I wouldn’t need one at all, owning the place.” He was quite impressed by that; he hadn’t shown it as well as he’d have liked to, but he was. He wouldn’t have guessed it. You started shuffling around, just like before. Your eyes dart beneath the counter, then above, to the side, even to the ground. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen some keys on a lanyard?” You eye him hopefully, anxiously gnawing on your bottom lip. Stay strong Calum. You rushed a hand through your hair as your panic set in. He had a feeling this wasn’t the first time you’d lost them.

Ever the hero, he glanced around to where you were stood before. He remembered your position exactly. He might have been a serial killer. He’d have to book himself a therapy session later that evening. These were early signs for sure. There kicked beneath the bottom shelf, a slither of silver caught his eye. Before you could clear the counter yourself, he’d already grabbed them, wrapping the sunflower printed material around his hand.

The smile you greeted him with was similar to that of a damsel who’d been delivered from distress. He knew he wasn’t worthy of such praise, but he so enjoyed the sight of it as it was presented to him. “Thank you.” You gestured a prayer as you said it, bringing the keys to your chest, your breasts squishing together significantly. He wished he hadn’t noticed that. “I swear that’s the 6th time I’ve done that.” You sink the key into the cash register, springing it to life, opening the drawer beneath it.

“Just today?” He dug at you, earning a blush, he felt blessed to have seen it let alone to be the one to cause it. “Well, that’s 2.75 then.” You said happily, hands flattening atop the wooden countertop as if you were smoothing out a piece of fabric. He hands money over the with a “keep the change” and a smile that flashed his perfect pearly whites. You placed the 5 he gave you in the cash register, eyeing him sceptically as did so. “See you around big spender.” His breath escaped him at the nickname, the possibility of seeing you again too. That was the most fun either of you had, had all day. 

-

“I should give you a job since you’re in here so often.” He doesn’t fight the smile that braces his face when he enters the place this time. “Then you’d have to finally tell me your name.” He knows he’s got you there. “On second thoughts, you’re my best customer and you’re so, so welcome here any time honestly.” You slam your magazine down on the counter for emphasis, resting your face in both your palms, elbows on the wood. “Oh yeah? Don’t get a lot of pistachio fiends?” He wanted to be embarrassed; he had no legs to stand on. He’d been coming in every Thursday for the past 5 weeks, buying a pack of pistachios each and every time. His car was just about overflowing with them at this point. The shells, bags, full pistachios he couldn’t quite toss and catch in his mouth in less than a minute. It was an addiction to most, you included. 

“What brings you in today?” You held your hand out to stop him answering you, only he never began to speak in the first place. He was proud to say he was used to you doing that. “Let me guess.” He flipped you off before responding light heartedly. “Maybe I’m just checking in to see how your name tag is coming along.” You thought for a moment before responding. “You know, it’s taking a whole lot longer than I thought, guess labels aren’t on trend right now.” The sarcasm was dripping. He nodded as he headed down the aisle, fighting heart palpitations as he went. He didn’t have to get the same thing. There was no reason to now. He wasn’t in a hurry. He wasn’t panicking only grabbing the first thing he found. Yet, he still grabbed a bag like clockwork as if it would ever be impressive to you.

“I never thought anyone liked pistachios.” He jumped about 3 feet as you appeared beside him. This was the closest you’d ever gotten to him. “Jesus fucking Christ.” You sniggered a laugh at his expense, thoroughly. “No, that’s not my name but it’s a good guess.” You patted him lightly on the shoulder. He felt like he’d been shocked by electricity. “As I was saying, scaredy cat, I thought it was just something adults lied about enjoying to seem more mature or something.” Every bone in his body had him wanting to agree with you. They tasted like dog shit, but he couldn’t resist them.

“Rude of you to give me another nickname without so much as a whiff to your own name.” He raises you. You didn’t think he had it in him. “Would it please you if I let you provide me with a nickname?” Its patronising as fuck but he’d already been glad to accept your offer regardless. “You sure you’re ready for that?” You shrugged it off, there was no way he’d think of one on the spot. He was so painfully awkward and flustered around you at all times, the tiny burst of wit he pushed out a few seconds ago was probably all he had left this week. You could let him do his worst with full confidence. Knowing he’d never conjure one good enough to knock you down.

“Stripe.” Your eyes widened to the point where he feared they might pop out of your skull. “Fucking Stripe?” You half yelled, repeating the word far too many times in disbelief. He was fully aware of how awful it was, really, he fucking knew. But your reaction made it all the more worth it. “I’ve never seen you in anything other than a stripey top and that blue fucking waistcoat, it was the best I could do.” If that was the best, you’d hate to see his worst. “I’m not mad, just disappointed.” You then rubbed his back so platonically he thought he might scream.

“But uh, they’re great yeah, yummy.” He shook his head at his own awkwardness. “Yeah, must be, you’re the only reason we replaced the stock you know.” You pointed at the tiny marking slammed on the shelf just below the item up for debate. An “out of stock” label was scrawled out messily in black marker. “Shit really?” There was that laugh again. He could record that and sell it as a cure for depression, it was the happiest sound he’d ever heard. You could cure all ailments with a laugh as cute and dorky as yours.

“Nope, but it did make you panic for a second huh?” You were facing him, arms behind your back, chest pushed out proudly as you smiled at your own mischievousness. You tended to do that a lot. You weren’t ever aware of the way your breasts pushed forwards like an offer he couldn’t refuse. But he had so hoped that he was right in assuming it was accidental. Although, if that was just how sexy you were even without trying, he could only melt at the thought of a real attempt. Pull yourself together man, you’re not 14, not every pair of tits has to destroy you. Even if yours were perfect. “Do I really come in here that much?” He's white knuckling his way through that question until you finally relax your shoulders, the tension also leaving his own.

“Yeah you do.” You said it with sympathy and a kindness as if that was the making of an intervention. “I could lie.” You offered. He thought about it. Then he thought about the way he could recognise every single note your wind charm had been able to make. The way he knew the floor creaked in the centre of every aisle but never the edges. How the lights only flickered above the freezer section and buzzed like a swarm of bees when they did. How there’s always an excess of toilet roll stacked the near the door because you’d accidentally ordered too much. How you’d tripped over it most days despite you being the only reason it was there. How you’d told him you’d done it only once, but he knew for a fact it was 5 times just in his presence because he laughed every single time. Yeah, he might come here a little too often.

“Would you please lie?” His face heated in several different shades of red, one after the other coordinating with your striped shirt of the day. A blush brown, red, and orange. You were yet to repeat an outfit. The horizontal stripe was the same, but the colour was not. That wasn’t really saying much in the grand scheme of things. He had only met you 5 times so far. But 5 different stripey tops was still arguably hard to come by. “You just really love your nuts.” You dragged out your s.’ He hit his head on the shelf before him with a thud. “That’s even worse.” He mumbles while continuing his downward trajectory into self-loathing. 

“Yeah, maybe you should go with your dignity still intact.” You nodded, brushing off laughter. “You’re right. Though I think that would require having any in the first place.” He made a lot of jokes at his own expense, more so than anyone else you’d ever met. You hoped he didn’t really feel like that about himself. “Yeah, no I was lying to make you feel better.” You nodded repeatedly. “Didn’t really try it before, now I did. I don’t really like it.” You shrugged. He smirked.

“So, same time tomorrow?” He did the same old thing with his feet, standing on his toes, slotting back down, his tell-tale sign that he was waiting for something. “Maybe.” He left it open for interpretation. You leaned in close, your face not far from his, like the counter had disappeared altogether. “Oh, a maybe huh, that’s how we’re playing this now?” You’re so close to him he can now identify the exact kind of mint you carried on your breath. It wasn’t peppermint like he’d assumed at first. It was spearmint. You were spearmint and spiced apple rolled into one. It should never have worked but on you, it was perfection. 

“Can’t bear to see me twice in one week Cal?” He thought he might combust as you shortened his name. It took every ounce of energy he had left not to melt at your feet. “I am getting too predictable, do need to keep it fresh. Can’t have you sitting there all day just expecting me to arrive.” He was proud of himself for keeping up. There may be hope for him yet. “Oh, but it’s such a crucial part of my existence.” Your hand slid across countertop, and he thought he imagined it even as his own lifted involuntarily, aiming to meet it.

“Very funny. So witty.” He was reduced to two word sentences and sarcasm, brilliant. “I know, I know, keep going, talk dirty to me.” You were definitely a dork; you both knew it. One of you found it endearing. Your hand touched his, he was almost certain it wasn’t an accident by now. His heart still didn’t believe him. “I will see you, eventually.” Your fingers pried his open, hands joining, fingers bumping knuckles, fumbling around in a beautiful whirl. He didn’t know when your relationship got to the point where you’d been able to touch like this. He also didn’t know what it meant. He just knew he enjoyed it, and you could touch him wherever you desired.

“Eventually?” You say it slowly, breathing it out to see if he’d like it. His eyes couldn’t avoid your glittery lip gloss any longer. It was all he’d thought about for the last 45 seconds since he’d noticed it. He wished he never noticed it. Now he can’t do anything but notice it. He also thought about the possibility of wearing it himself. Not because he wanted to go out and buy the same one but because he so desperate to feel your kiss, he wouldn’t mind the transfer. Those thoughts weren’t helping anyone.

“Mmhmm, sometime, somewhere.” Did his voice go up an octave? “Probably here.” You corrected him, thumb smoothing over his. “Definitely here.” He confirmed, he’d not taken a new breath since you’d touched him, and he might have started going purple because of it. “But sometime.” You poked with a smirk. “Exactly.” He said inching closer. As much as you liked it, you panicked. You released his hand in a flash and stepped back, legs knocking into the chair behind the counter. He’s gutted to lose your touch but chooses not to hold it against you. You must have had your reasons.

You pretended it didn’t make you want to yell out every curse word under the sun under the scrutiny of his stare. The way your chair dug into your calves was dire. You cut your flirtation short and hoped that masked it adequately enough. It didn’t. “Get out of my store.” You bossed him around with a smirk. He felt relieved by it. At least he hadn’t fucked anything up. You smiled away at him as he did as he was told. Holding it right until he’d disappeared, not only from the shop, but the view of the exterior too. You sank into your chair safely this time and let out a deep sigh. Was it hot in here or was it just you?

-

“I get off at 10.” You rush, bringing your hands back down to your sides. You didn’t smile, you didn’t wave, you didn’t breathe. You just blurted it out. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards but didn’t react more than that. “You do?” He isn’t really sure what to say, he never is. He wants to ask if you mean what he thinks you mean, and what he thinks you mean is that you’d like to see him when you finish. He’s not sure if he has the courage to do something about it. He still needed to work on communication, if you had taught him anything, it’s that his verbal skills were lacking.

“I get off at 10 and I think you should come hang out.” Your spare hand floated to your hip; you hoped it appeared as casual as you intended it to. But truth be told your grasp on it was nothing close to gentle. The silence growing between you was painful. “I’ll see you then.” He said, just as quietly, just as unsure.

“Fuck, you will?” You stepped in closer to him, absolutely relieved. He reached out to you; you’re attempting the same. “I uh, yeah.” This is the only time you’ve been tongue tied around him and you’re not enjoying a single second of it. “Now please leave before I have a meltdown over this.” He didn’t budge. He still wanted to touch you, hold your hand, your hip, your scissors that you were previously using to cut open packaging, anything he could. “Seriously oh my God.” You’re laughing but you need it, you wouldn’t think straight again until he left. “I’m gone, I’m going, I’ll see you at 10.” Fuck yeah you will.

-

“What can I help you with today?” You asked as softly as you always did. You leant right over the counter already cutting the distance. It was 10:02pm. There was no more wasting time. He started to lean in a little too. You wet your lip in anticipation. The way you often did when you saw him. Because you couldn’t keep it together for even a minute, needed that sensation across your lip to prevent you from finding another. Under the watchful gaze of those fucking browneyes, you’re helpless. “I actually panicked when you didn’t come in at 6 today.” Distracting yourself with conversation was something you’d always done; may it help you now.

“I didn’t think you’d miss me too much.” He was happy you did. He was selfishly ecstatic if he was being completely honest. “Well, I did.” He nodded at the information, letting it sink in. He also let it go straight to his head. It wasn’t his fault. When a girl like you says she misses you, you’re living the fucking dream as far as he was concerned. He leaned in, elbows nudging yours on the counter, a parallel to a couple of weeks back when you’d held hands in the very same spot for the first time.

It felt much more natural this time. Hands gravitating towards each other without a care in the world. Nothing but the brushing of fingertips against knuckles and blushes being hidden with large smiles. You supposed without the worry of any other customers entering the store, you could finally relax into this. You weren’t being unprofessional by seeing to your urges. It felt so incredibly good. You’d like it like this more often. Probably not in this exact location. You think you’d seen enough of the inside of this place for a lifetime.

“I can tell you what I’m not here for.” You nodded along intrigued. “Fucking pistachios.” You snorted a pretty hearty laugh. “I knew you didn’t like them.” You raised your voice accusingly. He was shaking his head in disagreement but the way he laughed wasn’t fooling you. “No one likes them that much I don’t care who you are.” You’re determined to receive his admittance. He’s gone beet red in the face, willing to pull his beanie down over it to save him further humiliation. That should have been enough for you, it wasn’t. You had to hear it.

He’s shaking your hands in his to grab your attention back and your heart is just bursting at the action. You wouldn’t mind holding his hands all day. “No, I do like them, I do, stop shaking your head, I do. Just yeah, not that much, I don’t know what I was doing.” He’s looking at your hands as a source of comfort, fiddling with them while he reflected on his past decisions regretfully. “Think I just really wanted to impress you, clearly did that. Shows I’m committed though right?” He lets one of your hands slip free. You lift it into the air and draw an invisible tick. “Oh yeah, honestly there’s nothing sexier than getting 2.75 from a hot stranger every week, ticking that right off my bucket list. And yes I like your level of commitment, I will consider it heavily in your application.”

His brows arch. “Hot stranger huh?” You’re not surprised he’d only listened to the part with the compliment; you’d be the same. “You’re kind of hot I guess.” It was your turn to blush, coyly looking anywhere but at him as if you’d save yourself that way. It didn’t stop him looking at you like you thought it might. He was still peering down at you, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks, your hair falling down into your face like curtains ready to close on him. He didn’t want to be closed out. He needed more access in fact. He just needed to be subtle about it as not to spook you, or him for that matter.

He was careful when he pulled his left hand from yours. It was so cautious and polite you didn’t even miss it when it was gone. He just reached forward, touching you elsewhere. Tucking his thumb beneath your chin, lifting your face so you’re back looking at him. He could look at you for hours. You’re like a piece of art that had come alive, and he needed to appreciate you for that. He was equally as pretty, his eyes big and beautiful, with a softness you wanted surrounding in. You wouldn’t ever get used to a stare like his.

You combed some of your hair behind your ears to give him a better look at you. You’re not sure why but you felt it was important for him to see you like this. With more vulnerability. He may have seen you every week, but your time was so fleeting. You’d been working a million miles a minute. Your head was often fuzzy. Not to mention your hair was a constant tangled mess. You rarely wore makeup either, sweat too much stocking shelves which you did pretty much every single Thursday, his day. It was absolutely crucial to you now, for him to see you and really seeyou.

Not you that wore the uniform. Not you that lived and breathed this shop or this job. Not you that made witty remarks about other customers because that was your only form of entertainment during a shift. You needed him to see you in a way that he couldn’t associate you with this place. You wanted him to like you separately. You had other interests. You had other clothes. You had a whole other personality. If you let him look at you like this, perhaps he just might find it.

“I might be wrong.” His voice had gone unintentionally gravely allowing his accent to shine through. “But I think you might like to kiss me.” He says it barely above a whisper, but you heard it in the deepest parts of you. You tried your best to remain composed as he’d read your mind exactly. All these weeks of flirting with no result, building and building tension with no real end game in sight. But now, finally, there was opportunity. “It’ll cost ya.” You whispered. He grinned back down at you affectionately; he hadn’t moved an inch yet. “I’ll tip you generously” he goes to say more but you’d already shot forward. Everything he could possibly have said was now well and truly out of the window, gone and completely forgotten. You had erased his mind and it felt wonderful.

“You’ve been on my mind for fucking weeks you know that.” He’s taken aback, from the kiss, your hand clutching his, your confession. He was flattered to say the least. “I watch the damn clock every day, even though I know you only come in on Thursdays.” You retreated your hands away from him and he’d have been offended by it if he weren’t still pining for your lips back on his. He could settle for hearing your truth first. He was a patient man when it came to you. “Why do you only come in on Thursdays?” He wonders if you were actually asking or not and then he realises it’s just a stepping stone in your monologue, so he kept it zipped and watched you with a bemused smile.

“I was scared, did I tell you I was scared? Thought I’d never see you again Calum, I mean fuck I was about to mark down pistachios to 1 cent if it would bring you back in here, what the fuck were you playing at?” He’d say he was shocked at the way you’d overreacted, but he’d been wracking his brain just as heavily. The entire day, he watched the time flying by, his leg tapping, his riffs never sounding right, his vocals never hitting the right note, his lyrics not carrying into verses with fluidity and synchronicity, every second he spent away from this God damn store was an additional second of insanity he couldn’t bear. 

“Promise I’ll never ditch you again.” You tugged him in close. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep Calum.” You breathed out grabbing hold of the collar on his fleece. “I would never do such a thing.” He tipped his head down at you, thumbs reaching out to stroke adoringly over your cheeks, your aggression dissolved as quickly as it came. “Shit, kissing you is like, I can’t even think of a word for it.” 

“That’s awfully romantic, wow Calum.” You said between kisses. “Shut up.” He bit back. “Trying to but you keep pulling your lips away.” You’re mumbling into his mouth. “Feels weird kissing here, like some other customer is gonna pop outta nowhere.” You rolled your eyes at the mention of it, biggest turn off of the century. “Would you like me to put the shutters down so you can feel safer hmm?” He smirked down at you. “That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Swoon.

His hands squeezed where he now held your hips fondly. His eyes were shining, even in the dim light. His brows were furrowed with concern, you couldn’t be sure what for. There were so many things either of you could have been thinking at that moment. You were checking his deep eyes for signs of distress or regret, a hint of regret would certainly destroy you now you’d gotten to this stage, but you’d still wished to know if he was okay with all of this. “Are you okay?” You weren’t sure why you said it so quietly. If anyone were to break from a loud and startling voice, it would have been you more so than him. 

He nodded his head into the palm of your hand. You’re heart fluttered but you still wondered. “Promise me?” He nodded again but it wasn’t enough truth for you. “Need to hear it.” You nudged. “I’m more than fine.” It sounded calmer than either of you had expected. You were eyeing him with your lips tucked neatly between your teeth and he swore he’d lay down his life to feel you do that to him instead. “Gonna kiss you now.” You said it as if it was the first ever time. It was at least the third, maybe fourth or fifth but felt just as fresh. Somehow more important than the others. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t messy. It was planned and it was delicate, and it had mattered.

He leaned into your mouth; plush lips gently caressed yours. You knew he was more eager than he let on, felt it in the way he clutched at your belt loops like he himself was the one to hold up your jeans instead. “You don’t have to be so gentle.” You muttered through fluttered lashes. “Wanna treat you like you deserve.” You didn’t expect such a response, never being taken care of before. You were glad to receive it. “Kiss me sweetly later, I want the good stuff.” His lips didn’t miss the opportunity to send a smirk your way before he swooped in, arms wrapping around your middle, lips plummeting down onto yours. A moan teared from your throat sending his stomach churning and flipping with delight. 

It’s a tender kiss still, even if he weighed down heavy on your lips. His cushiony mouth took the fall. Your arms were thrown messily around his shoulders, finding a home there, your fingers combing the hair at the base of his neck. He gave you his tongue, offering it like a gift. He wrapped it in your lips, sliding between them, teasing your own tongue with it. There it is, your signature scent, apple and mint, a taste so distinctively yours. He tasted of tobacco and coca cola, and you hadn’t a single complaint about it. You’d happily keep that recipe locked in your mind to associate him with forever. He retracted his lips and you found yourself chasing him, rising onto the tips of your toes, nearly toppling the both of you over in the process. He grinned wide from ear to ear, and you just stood there with your eyes big, gawping at him like a goldfish.

“You might be the sweetest thing I ever tasted.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, caressing your heated cheek with a precise and carefully crafted technique. “Can’t really trust your tastebuds though.” He would never live down them pistachios. “I’m gonna make you forget all about that.” You knew he wasn’t really embarrassed about it, but if he really wanted to offer a mind altering experience, you wouldn’t dare decline. “Is that right?”

“There’s only one room in this entire building without security cameras you know.” It’s far too detailed to be a hint but you hope he took it like that anyway. “What would we need that for?” He pecked you over and over, your body squirmed in is grip. “I think you know what.” He did, he loved idea of it too, it was unique and adventurous and sure maybe there wasn’t much risk of getting caught but that didn’t make the location any less scandalous and out of the ordinary. Calum needed you somewhere private around yesterday. “Care to enlighten me?” He saw the cogs turning and ticking away in your pretty little head. He had a rough idea of where you’d take him, but it didn’t make it any less fun to ask. He needed to hear you say it. 

“How sexy is the idea of making out in the stockroom?” You just came out and said it. “How sturdy are the shelves?” You shoved him. “Shut up.” He snickered. “Keep that up and you’ll be banned for life Mr.” He leaned down to kiss that thought from your mind. “You know I can’t survive without this place, it’s just so- “ he paused purposefully, he knew exactly the words he needed but chose not to speak them, “convenient?” you finished for him, to which he nodded along happily. “Convenience corner where all your needs are at your convenience.” You cheerfully recited your slogan, it was adorable to him, nostalgic and cringey to you.

“What else in here is at my convenience?” He pushed the boat out a little. “What would you like?” You played along too, enjoying the way his blush didn’t end with his cheeks but fell down towards his neck as well. “To speak to the manager of this establishment.” You wanted to roll your eyes so badly, but he was just too charming to ridicule. “Think she’s a little busy right now, you’ll have to come back later.” You pulled him back down to kiss you and he relaxed into you within an instant. “Mm, I’d like to ask her something.” He kissed you again. “Oh yeah?” He took a little bit longer to respond that time, your tongue sinking into his mouth, making it pretty difficult for him. “Want her to check something in the back for you?” You encouraged. He nodded down at you eagerly. “Right this way sir.”

You grabbed onto the sleeve of his jacket, tugging his body close to you. He’s about to trip and fall right into your arms for the remainder of the evening but you had other plans. You were leading him elsewhere. In reality, you hadn’t even needed to touch him, he was like a lost puppy in unfamiliar surroundings, only latching onto the one figure he knew, he’d have followed you anywhere. He was whipped. He stumbled along in your path, you may have been short, but you were awfully fast. His vans scuffed across the tiles, squeaking as he walked. It was a step up from his docs but just as irritating. If you weren’t so set on becoming a cliché snogging in the back room, you’d curse him for it. Nevertheless, you lead him to the door just right of the freezer section, you weaved through a sharp right hand turn and kicked open the stockroom door. He wasn’t sure what to expect from it. He’d never really had the need for a job anywhere like this. He didn’t know the ins and outs of what a stockroom could provide. The answer being not a fat lot.

There’s towers of shelves in 3 aisles. Boxes both filled and emptied are spaced out throughout the room. Its colder back here than it was in the main section of the store. It made sense when storing products and trying to preserve them, but it was awfully uninviting. “So, this is kinda the break room too.” You let out. He felt nothing but sympathy for you. There was barely enough room for the 2 of you, let alone any other employees coming and going. He followed you through the aisles toward the back door. Hanging above was the inevitable gleaming green exit sign that glowed more than it should have, casting a faint green light over that portion of the room. His eyes then followed you, stepping on without him, gesturing to a green leather couch he was surprised he hadn’t clocked yet.

“You want a beer or something?” You awkwardly fiddle with a stray, loose strand on your jeans. He shook his head slowly, stepping closer to you. Your legs were already open to straddle the arm of the couch making it easy for him to find himself between them, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You let your arms encase his waist, pushing you face into the fleece he was adorning. Your hair smelt so nice he had to force himself not to take a deep inhale of its fragrance. It wasn’t the weirdest thought that had ever occurred to him in your presence but that just made it worse.

“You’re like a fuckin siren or something.” He blurted out. He expected the way you pulled back, biting your tongue as an attempt not to snigger at him for his comment. “You know what I mean.” He barely defended himself. He started to talk with his hands, and you huffed at the lack of his touch while he did it. “You drag me in here every week. You’re always on my mind. I literally don’t even know your name yet I’m falling over myself trying to be here. I’m back in here like clockwork.” You really ought to tell him, put him out of his misery once and for all. 

“It’s Y/n.” You said gently. You should have said more after he’d rambled on like that, but you were struggling on what you could say. You were far worse for expressing your feelings than he was and that was a great feat. “Y/n.” He repeated it a few times, testing it out, deciding he quite liked the sound of it in his mouth. “Yup, not a siren, just Y/n.” You giggled, like a schoolgirl you actually giggled. “Really stepping up our relationship here Cal, what’s next you want my last name too?”

He was already letting his hands cup your chin, deciding he’d been lacking your intoxicating lips for far too long. “I have a couple of ideas in mind stripe.” Before you could protest the foul nickname his lips were back against yours. They slot against your own so neatly you’d argue they were a piece to your puzzle, finally settling into place. You moaned against the tongue swiping across your bottom lip and his knees nearly buckled under the heat of it. “When you moan like that pretty girl,” he can only pull back for a second or two, “makes me weak.” You’re pushing him back; he stumbled about as gracefully as you could imagine in a moment like that, little to 0%. “I like you weak.” You toy with him, stepping towards him, sparking him to back his way up against a shelf. 

The wood creaked under the force of him. It dug deep into his spine, but you hadn’t given him a moment to complain before you tangled yourselves together again. “I think your nicknames are getting better.” You praised, looking up at him through your long, curled lashes. The sight had him thinking sinfully. You also took the time to admire him. His curls were messy, framing his face in every which way beneath the pressure of his woolly hat. You needed to see his hair without that god damn beanie on or you might explode. You tugged it off him slowly, grateful he didn’t object. He only squinted at you now that he was aware of just how wild his curls had actually become. They’d sprung out in every direction, you weren’t prepared for the volume, not that you’d even minded. “Fuck.” You sighed. He wished he knew what the context was behind that hot little expression of yours. “I love your hair.” Your eyes were so focused on it as you tangled your fingers briefly, catching a couple of curls accidentally. He let out a puff of air as you caught him like that. “Shit, sorry, couldn’t resist.” He shook the comment away, he knew he was in for it with you. 

“So, you’ve lured me back here, now what will you do?” You felt his eyes watching you expectantly, you tried to remain as calm as you could in responding but his gaze burning into you had you tripping over every word before they even threatened to come out. “Have my filthy way with you.” You were dripping with a false confidence; one you hoped he didn’t catch onto. He didn’t. He was heavily convinced you were the filthy minx he’d been dreaming about none stop since he first saw you across the road. Might as well live up to those expectations somehow.

His hands were no longer soft and sweet, barely caressing your frame. His fingers were digging into the flesh of your hips, scooting your body forward till you lined up just right with him, just enough to make him pant with those peachy plush lips. Your own fingertips were buried in the curls at the nape of his neck, and he urged you to tug them in his mind. The guttural moan that escaped him when you finally did it, had you dying to hear it again and again. “Jeez take me to dinner first.” You managed before he’s tucking your bottom lip between his own teeth. “I think you owe me more than one.” You continued in a sudden array of nerves he wasn’t quite used to you having. “Do you ever run out of things to say?” That was his polite and desperate way of asking you to shut the fuck up. You might have done it too. 

His hand slipped dangerously onto your throat, light pressure building when he introduced you to the idea of his hand sitting there, capturing you. “I could, but I’d rather not.” He had to smile proudly when you pouted up at him, nails digging into his shoulders when he blocked your airways, little gasps the only sound running from your delicious, fuchsia stained mouth. He leaned in close to your ear, lips brushing the lobe, your eyes were sent rolling back. He’d found one of your weaknesses and you’d only just begun. “Think you should try and stay quiet for a little while.” As much as you loathed being the quiet, obedient woman, if he asked you to jump off a bridge, you were certain you’d do it. 

His fingertips pulled back and you surged forwards, lips crashing into his own. You whined a breathless moan into his lips, and he still wasn’t happy with the amount of fuss you were making for him but if you rocked into him the way that you were for much longer, he’d be the one struggling with the silence. As if you were reading his mind, always one step ahead of the game. You were tugging at the green, oversized fleece you’d hoped he’d worn for you. 

It hurt to be away from his lips even if it were to rid himself of the many layers that concealed him away from you. “Come on now stripe, wanna see what’s under them.” You wanted to send a snarky comment his way, but you were so breathless at the vision of him stood there without a shirt on and in your fucking stock room no less. “Fucking hell.” Your hands were forgetting every instruction he’d given you. You had a childlike curiosity that needed fulfilment, you’d always wandered about his tattoos. Sometimes for days at a time. Not always at the most convenient of times either, you just couldn’t help yourself. When they graced the back of his hands like that it was only natural to consider how they’d look in situations like- well situations like this one.

“I’ll give you a tattoo tour later.” His forehead was fitted against yours, fingers combing through your hair as his lips ghosted over yours. You closed the gap momentarily, enjoying him before his other hand flushed across your stomach beneath your shirt. Your stomach flipped at the contact. His hands edged over the pudgy skin that was a source of anxiety for you, it always had been. You’d wondered how much he’d actually like you underneath those stripes. “Can I get this off you?” He was trying to connect with you, sensing your hesitation. “You don’t have to.” He promised. “Just really want to see you.” You appreciated his honesty and his kind encouragement. You lifted your top yourself, grateful you couldn’t see his face when it was pulled over your head revealing your upper half to him. The strong urge to suck in a breath hit you like a freight train.

He nearly growled at the sight of your breasts spilling over the cups of your bra. He’d always agreed with women when they said they hated the claustrophobic item of clothing. But seeing your boobs bunched up like that, toppling out of them, he thought he might like bras for the first time in his life. You avoided his gaze. Even going as far as to closing your eyes to avoid the scrutiny. It doesn’t come. His lips were on you so fast, he doesn’t even bother unclipping the thing. He yanked down the cups, bending down at the knees, stuffing your nipples into his mouth like a starved man. You choked out a cry when his teeth tugged at the hardening skin of your nipple. His hips bucked helplessly into yours while he continued his assault. Any fear you’d had was now out of sight and out of mind because the boy before you didn’t care if you were fat or thin, you were his pretty, witty, annoying girl and he wanted to love on every part of you that you’d let him get near which was honestly, all of you. 

“Jesus Calum, leave some for the rest of us.” His eyes opened, blinking a couple times as he pulled away, a trail of spit formed between you, connecting his lips to your breast. His cheeks flushed crimson, lips about the same shade, pupils blown out entirely. He was love drunk and as dazed as ever. He caught your eye like the very first time, an accidental staring contest forming from a glance he just could not stop taking. You’d been more than willing to participate this time around. 

“Best tits I’ve ever fucking tasted.” You stroked under his chin; he leaned into your palm as you offered him the much appreciated affection. “Anyone would think they’re the first.” Had he really gone that nuts? (Pardon the pun). “Weeks’ worth of pining make you go a little crazy?” He furrowed his brows at the mock hidden poorly in your question. “Wait, wait, wait, you knew?” He was dumfounded. “That you were buying pistachios left right and centre to keep coming back in here?” He nodded along like he was amazed you’d caught on. As if he had even a shred of subtlety. “Doesn’t take much genius.” You tapped your temple symbolically. “So, this whole time you let me buy you out of stock, and didn’t say a damn thing?” You gave him your brightest smile. “You’re so cute when you think you’re undetectable.” Your finger prodded his cheek and he huffed against it. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to pound me in the break room or anything, but I caught onto the crush pretty early on.” He was truly mortified. He may have gotten the girl, even had you whining for him tonight, but his pride was certainly damaged. “And you-“ he asked before he wondered if he even wanted to know the answer. “Was hooked day 4 when you tripped on your way in.” He leaned back, eyes closing, hands coming to cover his face, sadly leaving your body. You’re giggling before him, and it feels incredible to witness the joy of hearing it, but his embarrassment was a much stronger sensation. 

“It was very cute how you then proceeded to shuffle every step just in case you did it again, even if your damn docs left track marks across my floors.” He was sheepish about that part; he’d find a way to apologise for it at some stage. He’d clean it with a toothbrush if he had to. “This might be super unprofessional of me,” you said as if your entire relationship thus far had been anywhere near adhering to your code of conduct working here. “But the part apart pounding the in the breakroom-“ he was already cutting you off “yes fucking please.” His lips were on yours like they’d never left. Arms wrapped round you so tight you could scarcely breathe. Hadn’t even wanted to. 

“You know, I was hoping you weren’t all talk,” he beamed with pride, taking in the sight of your bite swollen lips and chest heaving with ragged breaths, his trail of saliva still glistening across your breasts. He placed a hand on either side of your hips, his head dropped to mouth hungrily at your neck while he’d fastened you in place, a sort of retaliation for your comment just before. Sure, you could talk but he could take action. He could mark a sweet and tender bruise into your collarbone to prove just how much he could back up those words.

“Been wanting to mark you up since we met,” he sighed deeply into the hollow of your throat, you can feel the air leaving your lungs, “what if I’d been wanting that just as bad?” You responded, he didn’t even mind that you did, he may not have been able to shut you up completely but the hint of whining and tiny noises just beneath each word was certainly a victory for him. He had been the only cause. “Oh yeah?” His words vibrates as he dragged his lips across your neck. “What else have you been wanting pretty girl?”

You leave him with nothing for a few seconds. Just weighing up the options in your head. There wasn’t much that you didn’t want him to do. You’d allow just about anything at this point. The lack of an answer was slowly destroying him. He could go ahead and try something he’d wanted but for him, sex wasn’t about that. He needed to tend to your needs. He needed to make you feel good. “Come on baby, don’t hold out on me now.” It’s impatient and desperate and it had you gripping onto him for dear life, a very clear image flashed into your mind of just what you’d wanted from him.

“Your fingers. I need your fingers.” He was already letting his hands slip down your bare tummy before sentence could dare meet its end. Just as quickly as those fingers began drifting, he was retreating. Hands fluttering in the opposite direction, much to your dismay. You barely pout before he’s focusing his gaze on you. He has half the mind to scold your battiness but he’s just so keen to give you what you need, he couldn’t deprive you, not when you looked so sweet. “Do me a favour real quick pretty girl,” you needed a second to recover from the pet name, “suck my finger real slow for me.” You needed several hundred to recover from that. “That’s it, good girl.” It’s extremely condescending and under any other circumstances, you’d be sure to give him a piece of your mind, but this wasn’t a casual scenario. The roles were well and truly reversed and you were throbbing from the realisation that he just might be as fucked up as you were in the bedroom. 

“Never been this quiet for me.” You hum sweetly around the second finger he’s pushing into your mouth. You do as you’re told initially, just sucking the digits plainly. Its only when you notice the jagged breaths he’s taking while watching you, that you decide to show off. Just sweet little licks, swirling your tongue around the tips of his rough fingers, admiring the salty taste of his skin across your tongue. When you take him to the knuckle you know he’s fighting all the restraint he has not to ram his fingers right down your throat. “I wish that was my dick so fucking bad.”

Although you don’t expect the blunt and brazen confession, you’re not at all alarmed at the content of it. You knew the tricks to captivate your audience. It was no secret that the two of you would never be anywhere close to each other’s first time but that hadn’t taken any of the excitement and uncertainty away that kept the air heavy with tension. You could never have anticipated just how successful your performance would be with him. “Gotta give me my fingers back now.” 

He makes no effort to retract them from the vice grip of your lips despite the contrasting command and his genuine eagerness to hurry this along. “Come on.” He’s grunting, tapping his feet with urgency. You released them with a wet pop that near echoes throughout the room. He’s sliding his now glistening fingers, back down between you both. He’d not noticed, too distracted by your tongue no doubt, you’d already made quick work of unbuttoning your jeans and pushing them down along with your underwear. All he had to do was slip a finger or two daringly over your pussy. A slow stroke through the soft, sweet heaven. It was so inviting, so pretty. He’d not needed to see it at all to know it was perfect. Not in the sense that it was the most attractive or most neat in terms of aesthetic but simply because it was yours, and he wouldn’t dare dream of a better haven than the little mountain peak between the valley of your thighs. 

You both let out a rushed sigh. He captured your lips as they invite him to meet. His fingers are met with a soft, supple, soaking welcome. “Baby.” He was about to lose his mind over the sweet wave of wetness that washed over the digits of his fingers as he barely pushes inside. “You’re so fucking wet.” He’s thanking and begging whatever deity above for more of the pleasure of your touch and the ability to make you feel as sticky and sweet as you do across his fingertips. He’d done something very right and wonderful to deserve you in this state and he couldn’t fathom what on earth it may have been, but he’d be sure to repeat it once he did. 

All for him, this was all for him. Oh, if only he knew. All his, you were never for anyone else. From the second he walked into your life you were his. He was hoping that too. You thought your eyes were telling him too much, showing him too easily the depths of your affection but they weren’t even close to letting that secret out. He had no idea how you’d wanted him until this moment. This wasn’t even the first occasion you’d been damp at the idea of him. This was just the only situation in which you’d actually be able to do something about it without carrying a backbreaking amount of guilt. He must know this is how it’s been for you.

His fingers don’t dive into you like you may have needed them too, and you did, really. They simply explored you. They were slow to enter but were keen to twist and turn and stretch. He was learning the gateway to your paradise. He was finding the secrets you had hidden. “Fuck.” You were sighing so sweetly for him at each given breath, he might just have figured you out. “Oh, that’s it.” His smile was hard to miss, hard not to mirror too. “Yeah.” You try with all your might to compose yourself, not fall to pieces from the brush of his thumb to your clit while his fingers flickered a beat to the soft and sweet space inside of you. “God yeah that’s it.” You rolled your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers. He’d barely twitched his wrist to aid you, hadn’t needed to. It was far too hypnotising to watch you take it for yourself. “So, fucking pretty baby.” He’s watching with a childlike curiosity, eyes wide, lips parted, brow’s quirking upward with inquisitiveness. “Finally shut you up.” He couldn’t resist the dig. You don’t resist the harsh shove you give his chest. Sending him backwards but never letting his fingers escape you. No, you needed to be filled, you would be filled. 

“Gonna get all bratty on me now?” You opened your eyes, a panic washed through them, and he spotted it because he’s not taken his own eyes away from your face from the moment he tucked his fingers inside your damp little pussy. “Not gonna punish you, don’t worry.” You weren’t really worried. It was more of a muscle memory. It was an instinctive reaction to the response you were used to receiving. Even if you hadn’t gotten anything it was nice to know it might have been something he was into, once again checking off an invisible tick list of activities you might enjoy together if you ever did this again and God you hoped you would do this again.

He stroked your hair then, the side of your cheek just after. Your eyes hadn’t opened for the last few minutes, maybe even longer. So difficult to keep them anywhere near open when he’s plunging his fingers inside you like that. It’s not precise, it’s not clean. You wouldn’t say it was particularly clumsy, but it was far from perfect, and yet, you had so enjoyed it. He filled you in a way that there was room for improvement but not enough to avoid the urge to clamp down on his fingers when he’d curled them inside you. He certainly had a handle on that little trick. “Shh, you’re getting so loud sweetheart.” His grin wasn’t seen but it was certainly heard. “Gonna keep it down for me?” You knew he wanted to hear you, couldn’t want anything more actually but the prospect of teasing you and having one over on you where he usually couldn’t, well that was far more tempting to toy with. You knew damn well no one was close enough to hear a peep from either of you even if you screamed and honestly, you just might have.

“Fuck Calum,” he picked up his pace, his lips ghosted over your neck as he reached a new depth inside you. Your pussy clenched on his fingers. Your own nails scraped into his shoulders, biting into his skin, slipping a hiss through his teeth. “Come on baby.” Your eyes fluttered open to catch the look of concentration on his face, his eyes met yours with a twinkle of knowing. He can feel that you’re about to cum. He just knew it. Without your confirmation he knew. Your eyes rolled back, your head too, dropping far enough that your hair dripped down your back like water. He caught the back of your neck to support you. As if he’d really thought of everything. Knew to rescue you from that deep dull ache you might have gotten if he hadn’t bothered. “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” His words had you squeezing him again, so hard he felt his pulse throbbing in his fingers, as well as your own beating deep in your cunt. “Come on sweetie don’t you wanna cum for me, know I’ve thought of little else.” It was like he’d been reborn the second you moaned his name. He was a different person here, he was remarkable. There was a burning passion within him that you’d only hoped he might have but seeing it in practice, confirming your fantasy of how good it could be, God that was enough. You were coming undone.

“So fucking pretty when you cum, you know that?” His fingers left you. You protested with a whimper and the rutting of desperate hips, but it was too late, his fingers were sinking between his lips. You were eyeing him like a tiger watching its prey as he tasted you, devouring your cum slicking his fingers. The noise of satisfaction and crude slurping is pornographic, and you simply can’t bear to be without his touch any longer. If he didn’t bury his stupid cock inside you, you’d never shut up ever again so long as you shall live. You’d make his every visit here his personal hell until he gave in and gave you what you needed. “You taste fucking delicious.” That tiny restraint you’d mustered in the past five seconds. Instantly disposed of. 

Your hands flew to the zipper of his jeans, slinking inside them, hands coming down to grope the bulge concealed by his underwear. His lips parted as you kissed him, curiously gathering your own taste wrapped around his tongue. His back slammed roughly against the shelf and his only retaliation was to bite down hard on your bottom lip, fingers pulling on your hair to make you back up and add some space between you. “Jesus Calum, I know you want me to shut my mouth but biting off my bottom lip won’t do it.” He was apologetic in his mind but only in his mind. “Couch.” Is all he said. You shook your head. “No?” He took a daring step towards you unhappy with your defiance. Just as he’d tamed you, you go and act out again. It would never be enough, you only needed more. You shook your head, holding a breath as he looked around the room for other possible locations. He was sure he’d fuck you on the floor if it came to it. He hoped it wouldn’t come to it. 

“I’ve never fucked standing up.” Is what you offered him, shoulders shrugging as you come out with it. He’s amused for sure. Not exactly the way he’d imagined his first time with you going but then again, he also didn’t imagine it being in the break room or this shop at all really. “Okay.” His calming smile settled the tension in the pits of your stomach. “Okay?” You asked him quietly. At first he thought you were just mimicking him in efforts to gain control but then he heard the way it wavered and pitched higher at the end. He broke his tough act and cupped your face in his hands. He adored the way you looked back at him, not a rain cloud or single storm in your sky. “Gonna need you to turn around for me.” He made no effort to let you move just yet, awaiting your willingness to comply before he set you free. He kissed you briefly before you did as he wanted without question, turning 180 degrees to face the shelves pressed to the wall. 

He took both of your wrists from behind. You allowed his grip to guide you, first assuming he’d be crossing them behind your back, a flurry of excitement tingling within you. But instead, you found he’d lifted them forwards, your hands slipping onto the shelf in front of you as he’d wanted, holding onto it instinctively, realising now that he’d been offering you stability instead. Your body burned even brighter than before. You’d be needing something to grip because he wasn’t going to take you lightly, you needed to hold onto something if you were going to cope with him. 

He knew you couldn’t possibly break. You’d proven to him already that you could handle it. You were so prepared to take him. Until you’d noticed the one little error of your ways. You’d not had the chance to see him, to wonder if your assumptions had been correct. You’d not known how big or how thick he was or how it’d curve and which direction it would curve in if it even curved at all. You may have felt your arousal trickling down your thighs. You may have been holding your breath and white knuckling the shelves before he even attempted to prick you but oh my. You were not even remotely prepared for the fullness. 

Calum’s hands rested heavy on your hips. You expected to feel the nudge of his hand grazing your backside as he touched himself in preparation to graze your cunt, but he does no such thing. He simply thrusted himself between the hot, wet mess of your lips and cunt with no attempt to enter you at all. He didn’t dare stop until he was satisfied with the coating of your dampness now slicking his cock ready to take you. He leaned forward, chest embracing your back. He flipped your hair over your shoulder, his chin resting in the now empty space he’d created on the other side. You felt a slight drag of stubble close to your neck before he’s uttering his instructions for you. “Take my cock in your hand.” You shuddered under the breath he fanned across your ear. “Come on baby, just for me.” He kissed your neck in encouragement. His arms wrapped around your middle. Your left hand released the shelf with a crack at the knuckle, finding a new home now between your legs. You leant down, back arching, ass pushing out, bumping him as you refrained from hunching to complete your task. 

You didn’t miss the way his hips bucked, and his cock jumped when your fingers found him. You didn’t miss how only your middle and ring finger could span the entirety of his thickness. You didn’t miss how one hand wasn’t nearly enough to capture his full length at once. And you certainly didn’t miss the amount of exposed skin going untouched when you glided your hand up and down him just to gather a better picture in your mind of what he might look like. You knew that in fact, it may take two. Two of your palms and even the addition of your lips at his tip to fully encase him. He was big. He was mouth-wateringly, cunt achingly big. You tugged him inside of you and braced the for the heat of the fever it brought upon your body. “Jesus fucking Christ.” A groan ripped from his throat.  

He expected to give you a moment. He expected you to need adjusting like those he’d had before. He expected you to cry that it was too much and all too soon and that you couldn’t possibly take him completely. He expected his ego to be boosted so high he wondered how we was ever nervous of being with you in the first place. It never came. You didn’t dare wait to accept the intrusion of his thick cock. You didn’t dare to linger and wonder if it would ever start to feel better than a stretch. You just pushed your hips back onto him, your ass flush against his pelvis, cock sheathing itself inside you as far as it could go and then some. And then some because you’re not just taking him whole, swallowing him up till he couldn’t reach any further. No, you’re wiggling your ass, skin recoiling and wobbling against him with the quickness of your movement. You’re taking his cock so deep he’s feeling claustrophobia from the way your cervix is blocking his path, walls closing in on him preventing him from travelling deeper. And it excited you to think about the delicious specks of pain his hot cock was pricking your insides with. 

It took every ounce of his strength not to flood you with his cum that very second. He could have done it. He wouldn’t have been embarrassed, not when it felt that good just to be inside you. Not when you really were made to engulf him in your flames. If he finished, who could blame him? To be hugged like that. To be warm and snug and held so tight. It would be cruel for anyone to tease a premature finish from a predicament like that.

“Baby, baby please.” Your voice was shaky, breathy, and so quiet. No wonder he hadn’t heard you over his own thoughts. How was it that you were the one stuttering when it was you that had felt so transcendent, not him? You had no fucking idea how well you took him. Even when he’d been standing there in bliss so long he’d forgotten he was supposed to be moving and enjoying you in the first place. It slipped right by you.

He kissed your neck, sucking sweet bruises beside those already scattered there previously. His hips pulled back, cock barely leaving you before surging back forwards. He pulled back further each time, pulling more of him away only to force it back in again with the echo of your wet cunt bouncing around the room. You gripped the shelves so hard you feared you may dent them, as he drove his cock into you. His hips pulsed into yours, balls slamming into you whenever his pelvis made contact. His one hand dug into the flesh of your waist, bunching your skin in his fingers, gripping so tight you worried he might pull the chunk clean off of you. Every now and then he bit down on your shoulder when you convulsed around him. “Keep squeezing me like that and I’m gonna fucking lose it.” You took it as an invitation to grip him again. He felt good because of you. You felt good because of him. Might as well enjoy it.

You threw your head back, resting it against his shoulder, exposing more of your throat to him as you started to fuck yourself onto his cock. He was losing it, not sure he ever had it to begin with actually, not around you. With every second passing by. Every time you made a fucking sound you drove him to madness. You were absolutely feral. You had all of the power. You met his every thrust. You angled him towards you, to your liking, even standing on the tips of your toes to feel him rub your sweet spot the way you’d needed. How was it that you’d ended up back in charge? Even when he’d been so convinced he’d gotten you where he wanted. Your pussy was so damn distracting, that’s how.

“Oh Calum.” He was revving himself up to regain control of you. His spare hand trapped your throat, his fingers and thumb adding little to no pressure around your neck just yet. “Please, God please fucking choke me.” His lips grunted heavily into your ear. Of course, you wanted it before he’d really thought about it. Always one step ahead of him even now. “This what you like?” He was beginning to constrict you, knowing full well you couldn’t communicate effectively now that he had but this time, he’d actually force you to. 

“Come on, tell me.” Despite the steadiness of his tone, his lower half was anything but steady. He was pounding into you. It was so hard for you to focus and feel the structure of your own body as well as the shelf before you rattling away violently. You were trembling at his thrusts. Your back arched involuntarily. You pushed back to meet his hips whenever you could, and he certainly didn’t let you slip away far enough to make it easier on you. You were so overwhelmed you couldn’t tell which way was up, down, left, or right. He’d fucked you completely dumb, no thoughts swirling around your pretty little head anymore and yet, he needed the conversation. Why would he dare to make your life easier now? 

“Tell me you like it; tell me you like my hand on your throat. Tell me how you like my cock fucking your pussy. Tell me this cunt is mine baby come on.” He was pushing you; he was forcing a response you’re too embarrassed to give and he was desperately hanging on the edge waiting to hear your confirmation. “Tell me baby!” He was the one crumbling to pieces now. His fingers loosened around your throat in an attempt to draw the words from it but it’s not his hand that was the problem. The problem was that you couldn’t dare speak because if you did, if you even attempted to produce a sound he’d know what you were doing. He’d know that you were so needy and gagging for it that you’d been cumming all over his cock just from the way he spoke to you. “I- love-.” You just couldn’t say it. You couldn’t catch your breath, you just moaned hard. “Fuck, did you just, did you just cum?” 

You were so embarrassed. You knew he wasn’t upset; how could he be? He’d made you finish not once but twice in one night; your first night together might he add. Your embarrassment was lying in the fact you weren’t even close to being finished with him. You needed more. You had to get more. You’d had a taste of his addictive drug and you were not going to relinquish it now. “Good fucking girl.” He rasped. “Fuck you’re so good, unbelievable, unreal.” He was a mess of praises and curses. He was mind blown at the response he received from you. He knew it was good, knew you were feeling good but if he’d known you’d fall for him like this, he’d have made a move a lot sooner.

“More Cal, I need more.” His eyes nearly bulged from his skull. “What’s fucking wrong with you?” You snorted out a laugh to his question. You wish you fucking knew. Your body was way out of your control now. “Just fucking me so good.” You knew he wasn’t buying it. “Please baby.” He scoffed at your level of greed. You’re not playing it up to make him cum, you’re doing it because you want to another orgasm for yourself. 

“You’re such a slut, you know that?” You did, you really did. “You’ve been holding out on me hmm, standing all sweet and precious behind that counter. Made me think that glitter lip gloss smile was sent from heaven above. You’re just another whore though aren’t you?” You were nodding furiously. “Been wanting this the whole tine haven’t you?” 

His hips were more erratic and aggressive now. He was fucking into you so hard it actually started to hurt him as well as you. It was so hard your feet didn’t stay in the same spot for long, his thrusts forcing your form forward each and every time no matter how much you fought to remain still. “Fuck fuck.” You weren’t sure who it came from. You were reduced to nothing. No words, nothing coherent anyway, I mean fuck, you couldn’t even breathe properly, couldn’t stand properly. You were getting fucked rougher than you ever could have imagined and your whole body ached in pain but just to feel him you stood there and took it. You took it all. 

“Cum already.” He half demanded half begged. He was on the cusp and would be damned if you didn’t finish before him even if it was your third time. “Or I finish without you.” A very empty threat. If he’d held it this long, he had the patience of a saint and he could wait a bit longer for it. His hips snapped into yours, cock so sharp inside you, spearing into you, ramming inside your cunt like it was the last thing he would ever do. He chased and chased the euphoric feeling, suddenly neglecting to check if you had found your own, so ready to take you for real, to give you all he had. “Fuck, where should I?” He tried to string the thought together before it was already too late. 

You wanted it inside, more than anything you want it inside you, flooding your pussy, filling you up so much you overflow. You couldn’t be so irresponsible. Not this time. “Pull out, cum on me, come anywhere on me.” He pressed sweet kisses atop your spine while his cock still rocked into you milking your tight cunt for all it was worth right up until he couldn’t bare it any more, cock slipping out, his hands gripping it, pulling on the wet flesh before he jerked off, his release dripping hot beads of cum to coat the roundness of your ass. He gasped and grunted as he emptied himself, forehead pushing into your spine, sweat sliding down it. His left hand clutched yours pulling it down from the shelf to interlock with his. Once his breath was less short he brought it to his lips for a sweet kiss so unlike your treatment a moment ago. 

The two of you stood there with your legs shaking and your breath ragged. “Jesus fucking Christ.” You broke the silence with a croaky voice, a surprise to neither of you with the amount of screaming you’d done. Calum sighed deeply, and you thought he might tell you to shut the fuck up, wouldn’t even blame him for it actually, but it never came. He instead pulled away from you, slinking down to his knees to grab your jeans and the panties crumpled inside them, sliding them back up your legs.

He used his discarded shirt to wipe the mess he’d made of your back, before tossing it to the ground, making a move to grab your striped top. He prodded your hips to get you to turn around, gasping at the blood trickling down your lower lip. “Oh sweetheart.” His thumb dipped to gather it away, lifting to show it to you briefly before suckling it into his mouth like some kind of vampire. You simply couldn’t avoid the way your lips whined at it. “Oh no, no way, you’re not getting turned on again, you’re banned.” He pecked your nose to lessen the threat before pulling your shirt over your head. He was hoping you might lift your arms to slip inside the material but not he wasn’t upset or surprised when he’d had to really commit to dressing you by himself. 

When your head poked back through the material, a pout was coating your lips. “No seriously, what’s wrong with you?” He tried to deadpan the question, but you knew he wasn’t the slightest bit concerned for you. He enjoyed your neediness, it had him unashamed of the throbbing sensation returning to his cock at the vision of you bloodstained lips. The lips you’d bitten cause his cock was too fucking much for you, he adored that thought.

“You’re pretty mean.” You commented with lack lustre intensity. “And you’re pretty.” He responded, he didn’t even cringe, neither did you, thankfully. He continued to dress you till there were none of your clothes left lying around. He guided you over to the sofa, letting you rest before he even  considered throwing his fleece back on. It wasn’t as if he was cold enough for it anyway, your comfort was more his concern right now. If that was the state of your lip, he can only imagine the damage to the rest of you. 

“Can we cuddle?” You didn’t really think about how possible that would be on the tatty couch you now sat upon. The one you’d gotten from a thrift store a couple months back, painstakingly dragging it through the fire exit singlehandedly. Once he’d gathered his belongings he sat beside you, the couch dipping where his body sank down. He grabbed you with ease, bringing you into him. You cuddled into his side, your head first on his shoulder before dropping lower with your fatigue. You were now resting somewhere across his chest, low enough for him to rest his head atop yours. He stroked over your back absentmindedly but soothingly enough to have your eyes closing in relaxation. He caught your head drifting, twitching as you stumbled into slumber, the peace of being in his arms just carrying you far away. 

“Hey pretty girl.” He nudged you lightly. “Don’t really think you wanna fall asleep right here.” He knew he wasn’t far behind you, but he had no intention of spending the night in that store room, even if the building was becoming his favourite place on earth. “What about upstairs?” You half yawn. “Upstairs?” He repeated it as a question. “Mmhmm.” You responded, as if it made it anymore clear to him. “A shred of context might be nice stripe.” You may have been exhausted but you were not about to let that nickname go unpunished. “Firstly, fuck off, secondly, when you fuck off, be sure to go through that door.” You weakly pointed at the door adjacent to the fire exit, again, something in this room he’d never have noticed unless it was pointed out to him. It must have been some kind of magic, surely he wasn’t ignorant enough not to spot that. “I live upstairs if you haven’t caught on yet, handsome.” He rolled his eyes playfully and you knew what was coming next when he started smirking before he even finished the sentence. “Well, isn’t that convenient?” 

[linked-maze]

I absolutely LOVED LOVED LOVED the update! Your artwork is just spectacular! Poor Wars is so exasperated with these children!! Hehehe I think your artwork is beautiful and I love all the little details you put in it!! Your attention to detail is astounding! 😊

It’s my favorite comic and I look forward to your updates! I hope you have a nice break, no rush coming back, your fans will understand and will be happy with whatever you feel up to doing. We want you to be happy and feel comfortable. 💜💜💜💜

Wars is trying his best XD at least Twilight is there too- kinda thank you so much for these kind words! ;w; this all means so much to me to hear!

[annbourbon]

Why Law School KDrama is one of the best dramas I have ever seen so far:

♡ It's about students, who actually are studying.

♡ It's about struggle. Wether it's for your grades or for addiction. Or to prove something.

♡ It's about justice. There's a famous quote I don't think I'll ever get over it but the quote starts at the beginning of the story, with an answer.

It's the beginning of judgment by the law with scales and a sword. Is the law truly righteous?

And the quote is meant to keep you watching. For you as a viewer to decide for yourself. By the end of the series, it ends up finishing the quote solved. Pay attention.

♡ Gorgeous Intro~~ I don't think I have ever skipped it.

♡ It's about self development. And self achievement. Nothing in life is easy. That doesn't mean you should give up.

♡ it's about bullying

♡ About sexual harassment

♡ The acting is insanely good

♡ Well rounded characters. Every single one of them. Their arcs, the way the change. The exposition and the time they have to show it to you. To win your heart. They suffer and win or lose. It's just gorgeous. Simply touching.

♡ The plot keeps you on your toes. You have to look at the dates to understand how the events happened. Devil is in the details~~ pay attention!!

♡ It's about feminism. Say whatever you want. But I was so ready to punch those bad guys but instead the law brings them to justice. If i told you I cried with them so much?

but they made me feel so proud too. I was literally screaming, crying and rooting for all of them. All the way. And especially for her. Seriously.

♡ They do make you feel like, you can do it too. This series is my go to whenever I'm feeling lazy, or depressed.

♡ It's about friendship~ and some implied but nothing too spectacular, romance. Place your bets, choose your team~ go and watch it!! because I need more people talking about this serie. I need fans to interact with 😭💖 pretty please?

[nikolliver]

Future out of reach

[Word count: 3301 words]

(with a small participation of Glamrock Chica!)

_________________________________________________

Another day, another show comes to an end, the curtains close smoothly and Eclipse directs themselves to the backstage. Complimenting the assistants and other actors for the spectacular show, Eclipse cleans their faceplate from the makeup of the day and returns the figurines to the clothes hanger, back to their usual jester pants. Now time to clean up the stage props.

The employees starting to clock-out one by one, the seats finally empty. Geppetto compliments his creation before he walks to his office. He had no idea how his praising brightens their systems. Eclipse lifts up the cradle and takes it to the backstage, their animatronic strength makes everything so much easily, yet an extra careful need so they don’t break anything.

Today’s show involved a baby kidnapping scene, but with no baby. At the lack of human dolls, they had to use a discreet replacement, since the baby’s face on the scene wasn’t so relevant, a Chica plush was used for the baby wrapped in blankets. The cradle was placed along with the other background props, but oh! There’s something missing!

The skyhook hangs Eclipse in the air and they fly quickly to the stage. Feet back to the ground, they attentively analyze every bit of the floor looking for the missing object. Until they found it! The pacifier used for the baby scene. Orange with a blue star on it, obviously Glamrock Freddy themed. Eclipse hopes that this pacifier wouldn’t be returned to the shelf to be sold or at least cleaned first, but they were pretty aware that Fazbear doesn’t care about this detail. So, they hold themselves accountable for this task!

The jester’s attention is dragged to the seats, the blue rubbered carpet right near to the stage. The place reserved for the children to stay. A specific spot in the middle is pinned against Eclipse’s gaze.

The spot where Karma usually sits.

They didn’t show up today, they had a science fair at their school. Their fingers fidget with the pacifier on their grasp. Hopefully Geppetto plans a reprise of this show in the future and Karma will be there to watch, they would love this one.

The silence of the theater echoed the distant sounds of the Pizzaplex. Muffled sounds of children laughing or crying, wishing to stay a little longer. Pre-recordings of the Glamrocks to their locations of the building, arcade noises and other mysterious sounds of this cursed place.

Eclipse graciously flies to the backstage with the pacifier. They gently place the pacifier on the Chica plushie’s beak with a soft giggle, their LEDs glowing pink and magenta. The plush seemed so cozy and safe wrapped in the star patterned blanket.

How would this feel like?

The thought pokes against Eclipse’s systems, but that thought was shared. Its LEDs transition to its debut bright yellow and blue, they sit cross their legs on the ground with a gloved hand holding the cradle’s side. A long stare at the Chica plush in it. Eclipse starts slowly swinging the cradle side to side, like trying to soothe the baby to sleep. A soft lullaby song starts playing from their soundbox, and now they are zoned out in their thoughts. The sound of the children slowly fading away from the location.

How would this feel like?

This one was different now.

As animatronics created only to entertain the children, it wasn’t expected to be caught having these thoughts. It wasn’t expected to wonder about those human bonding moments in life.

Being raised by people with love and care. In the future, returning this love and care to another being that you will raise on your own if wished so.

It’s not so different from what we are having now, is it?

Geppetto treated the animatronics differently from how ordinary people treated them. People treated them like what they are; Machines. But Geppetto treated like something else; They couldn’t tell what. He always had been so careful with the animatronics, but with them? It was different. Sun and Moon were more self-aware than the others, they knew more of their surroundings than the Glamrocks. They might have been remoted to jesters, but not to fools. He realized this at their Salvage procedure.

He doesn’t know what we can do. Any expectation that Geppetto had, was already surpassed by us.

It would be only his survival instincts at first, trying not to upset them in fear that they might harm someone. But now… It felt different. At least they hope so.

Geppetto treated them with care, with heart.

They don’t want to lose that.

The pacifier falls from the plushie’s beak. With a metal click, Eclipse cradles the Chica plush in their arms and places the pacifier back on its beak. Holding it like a fragile baby wrapped in those blankets. Just like when they first met Karma.

They were so small that time, smaller than the plush on its arms. What common babies would look at and start crying, Karma would look at it with no reaction. It was like they were looking at some ordinary person when staring at the uncanny jester, being safely held by their grandmother’s arms.

Its metallic fingers fidgeting against each other like a thumb battle while they have a staring competition with the baby during Geppetto’s conversation with the old lady. He can’t help but not ignore the jester’s behavior at his back.

The lady asks if it wanted to hold Karma. The old man’s eyes widen at the old lady and the jester flinches with a “shock.mp3” effect. She holds the baby to the animatronic, the tiny one staring at it with oblivious apathy. It lifts its shaky metallic hands to the baby, but retreats and offer the gloved pair of hands instead.

This day it found out that it was actually horrible at holding babies. Its hands were flat while holding the baby for a long minute. The lady softly laughs at the scene, while the man smiles awkwardly. The jester shakes its head and decides to try something different. Now mimicking the way that the lady was holding the baby on her arms, Karma was carefully cradled on its hands.

From how small they were, it could easily cup the baby on its hands. The baby yawns at the jester and it just stays at this position until the end of the conversation and Karma left with their grandma.

They have been watching Karma grow with the time since then. Time is passing by and it’s getting more puzzling to hold Karma properly on its arms. One day, it wouldn’t be able to hold Karma so easily. They would turn into a teenager, then an adult, an elder and then… It doesn’t want to think about that part.

But it was pretty aware of how its presence on Karma’s life had a great impact on how they see things. They don’t treat it differently from a person. Their conversations would follow casually like a genuine friendship! An actual bond! Karma would actually learn things from them! And it would learn things from them! The four of them would learn more things about this world while sharing their own experiences! And Karma would take this for their life outside the Pizzaplex!

Don’t forget that our minds aren’t as private as theirs.

… Yet, it had its own limits of… The “privacy” that they had. There was so much they wanted to learn, yet having Fazbear holding them on a leash wouldn’t be a pleasing consequence. Well, they just watch from afar.

Geppetto and Karma have a unique dynamic between them. They talk about their shenanigans with Geppetto when they are not on the Pizzaplex, his presence at Karma’s life was important, and not just because he was their grandma’s friend. Even if Geppetto didn’t have such relationship with their grandmother, his bond with Karma was significant to the child. He knew things about their “father side” of the family than anyone, also having an old beef with their father that it didn’t knew nothing of… yet. From how distant Karma’s father was from their life, even if living under the same roof… Geppetto seemed to have another special role in Karma’s family.

Family…

The jester holds the plush tightly on its arms…

…

…

…

There we go again…

Family…

It would never have the opportunity to be in an actual family. It knew that. But still…

From all the animatronics from the Pizzaplex, Sun, Moon and Eclipse had something that none of the other have. It was small. Very small. And it would last long. But it was very meaningful for them, they couldn’t physically hide this. It wasn’t so common for the others, so they don’t overlook it so much. However, the jesters would hold this on their systems until their end. They knew it would hurt, yet they weren’t prepared for it.

…

Eclipse feels a cold stare on their back.

They turn their head to find a Mop bot staring at them from afar, near a soda puddle waiting for the S.T.A.F.F. bot to come and clean it, so it comes. The bot looks down at the puddle with the scouring pad on its hand, then at the mop bot and then at Eclipse. The cleaning bots stare apathetically at the jester holding the plush like a baby with a long awkward silence…

Eclipse forces a weak laugh as they place the plush back to the cradle. “H-hi! I was… Just organizing the props! Heheh…” They stutter softly.

The S.T.A.F.F. bot tilts its head at them and then goes back with its existence and starts cleaning the puddle. Eclipse side-eyes their surroundings and yanks themselves away from there.

Almost stumbling in their feet on the way to the hidden door behind the poster, leading themselves to their room. The celestial jester meets their miserable and sad room, but they would give some of their theoretical heart into it. The wooden surface of the room brought them some kind of comfort, or… déjà vu? An inexistent nostalgia? They were not sure, but they don’t want to dive deep into that. The room was used to some kind of deposit for the theater, but it was left with no purpose so they decided to keep the room for themselves. Geppetto didn’t contradicted, he didn’t know how to react so he let them be.

Eclipse clicks as they stand awkwardly at the door while staring at the room. Not sure why they walked themselves there.

Why did we walk to our room?

Uhhhh… Panic?

It happens quite often; they were almost afraid that it might be some malfunction on their processors. They did not tell Geppetto about this and personally they hope he doesn’t notice this. He can read his creation easily like a book, since he was the author.

They fidget with their fingers against their gloved hands looking at the corners of their room, slowly walking towards the big red curtains after the staircase to the platform. Peeking through the curtains they see right under their eyelevel, a pirate island themed area closed for construction. What was the exhibition area for them when they were not at the theater and play along for a bit with Captain Foxy and his little sailors, will now become a daycare. They heard little of the planning from Geppetto, but are aware that he’s having some headache with this project that the CEOs threw onto his shoulders.

Eclipse recoils back to the room and stares at a pair of black curtains on a wall. They crawl to it and slide the curtains to reveal a small passage to a smaller room. The structure of that place was odd, they read something about that room being a playroom but then changed to a deposit and now it’s just some solitary room being used by Sun and Moon. Two medium boxes with some scrap they collected from the discard deposit to turn it into something else later, some kid’s drawings on the wall of Sun and Moon, all of Eclipse’s drawings were drawn by Karma. At the corners of the room were a Sun and Moon nightlights placed on opposite corners to each other, by their sides their respective plushies of each other.

They extend their gloved hands to each plush and nightlight to give them a head pat before they recoil back to the bigger room.

Eclipse’s eyes click to a Glamrock Freddy and Bonnie plushies at the table. A child forgot them at the theater, their name was written on their tags and the kid frequented the theater during the whole weekends so they would return the plushies back to the kid on the next day. The jester rests their metallic elbows and gloved hands on the table while glancing down at the plushies, clicking their fingers against their chin.

Glamrock Freddy and Bonnie’s relationship was peculiar for them. Under the eyes of the public, they were seen as the best of friends ever. Behind the stage… They were something more special. One of those details that is only true among the animatronics themselves, like Eclipse’s existence or the tiny Mini-Music men crawling through the walls of the building. The jesters would often peek their thoughts on Freddy and Bonnie’s thing, they were not sure if they wanted something similar, a “special someone”, this someone being each other or someone else entirely… Being two individuals sharing the same body might generate ticklish thoughts stabbing through their systems.

They would just shake it off with some clicks, spin their faceplate and keep going with their duties at the Pizzaplex. Eclipse walks off their room and lock the door at the end of the small corridor. Being dragged by their hook to check everything from above for the last time.

Are those thoughts normal for us to have?

They hear Geppetto leaving his office from the distance. And also, the noises of a metal chicken digging her beak into a trashcan at the theater exit. Eclipse lands their feet near the exit, right at the other side of the wall where Chica was. Seems she didn’t notice their metal clicking or their bells because of her eating noises.

Eclipse shrink-spin their rays before clicking to peek through the wall to see the chicken back facing them while going down on the trash like a stereotypical cartoon pig. They step out of the corner and yet comes unnoticed. The way the Glamrocks and the other animatronics interact with their own little environment tickles their systems, they don’t have the same proximity to people like they have with Geppetto or Karma. Which is not surprising, considering their “celebrity” dilemma they carry for the brand on the company.

A mischievous spark invades their systems at the opportunity. Sinking their head onto their shoulders, they force their soundbox to a loud horn sound effect. Startling the chicken to the point she would choke on her trash food, if this was physically possible. The chicken turn with a cluck to see a gloved hand holding onto the wall.

Another metallic glowing light red hand waves in. “Sorry, sorry.” Eclipse walks in to Chica’s eye sight. “Hi Chica!”

“Bawk! Eclipse!” Chica brushes off a stain of sauce from her beak. “You startled me!”

Eclipse giggles awkwardly as they scratch their hands before shaking their head. “Isn’t it too early to start the trash digging?” They tilt their head clicking.

Chica adjusts the trashcan cover back to its place. “I know, but- Today they released a new cover to the popcorn buckets and I just couldn’t resist! B-Bawk!” She shakes off her head. “Worth it.” And gives a thumbs up.

Eclipse giggles softly with a hand near their teeth.

“What have you been up to? Your little chick didn’t come today?” Chica leans against her leg.

The jester clicks. “… “Little chick”?” Their head tilts to the side.

“The little one! With a purple bow.” The chicken gestures to adjust a big bow over her head.

“Oh, you mean Karma.” Eclipse clasps their hands down.

“Karma! That’s their name!” She knocks her own head. “I don’t see them much often and I need to archive their name in my super special guest list.”

“They… are… not on the V.I.P subscription…?” They click slowly with each word.

“Oh- No not like that! Bawk!” Chica waves off. “I meant “Super special list” because they are one of your little ones! You know, I noticed that Karma is really attached to you guys and I just want to ensure you guys that they are safe when I happen to be around them when they are not near the theater. I have this protocol for children with a specific pattern of activity in the building and helps me to monitor their routine here.”

Eclipse blinks. “So, this is like…” They raise their gloved hands. “A “Mother Hen” protocol?” They air quote.

Chica blinks back. “… I think so? There isn’t a specific name for that yet.” She shrugs.

“Do the others have this protocol too?”

“Not sure, I don’t hear much of their handlers about this.”

Handlers…

The jester hums at the word.

“Does your handler happen to know something about it?” The chicken leans over a bit.

Eclipse clicks with the question. “…You mean Mr. Geppetto?”

“Yes, Bawk! A good old man he is!” She jumps at her feet, clasping her hands together.

“Huh…” They scratch their gloved hands. “Sorry, is that things like this are different for… us.” Their rays retract shortly.

“Oh Bawk! No need for that! It’s lovely to see your relationship with Geppetto.” Chica holds their gloved hands. “We are not in touch that much with our handlers and seeing you and Geppetto is so sweet! BAWK!” She covers her beak with this louder cluck and a shy giggle. “It’s like father and child bonding!” The chicken pauses… “Does that make you guys siblings?”

The jester slowly retracts their rays in, out, in again… And then shrugs. “Geppetto created them as different characters. If they wanted to see their relationship as siblings or not, is up to them.”

“What about you?”

“I’m fine with whatever. As long as we are together.” They click.

Chica laughs softly. “Awn, you are so sweet Clipsy. Bawk! Geppetto created you well!”

Eclipse held their hands with their other metallic pair for a silent moment. “… Do you ever wonder to have something like this with your handler?” The jester clicks their rays out. “Like… Family bond.”

The chicken stays silent for a long minute while looking at their cuddled hands. “Well… I never actually think about it.” She shakes her shoulders a bit. “But… I think it would be nice! Getting to know her more or at least getting to be friends with her…” Her voice softens at the end.

They would never actually know what goes through her head about this… From her general reaction it seems that her “celebrity” like routine distract her from thoughts like this.

Is this why humans keep trying to make excuses to busy themselves even with nonsense?

Their conversation is interrupted with the Dread Unit’s audio echoing through the whole Pizzaplex announcing the closing time. The jester clicks and the chicken clucks with the cut.

“Bawk Oh! I need to go now!”

“Ye ye ye! Closing time! Closing time!”

Both of them share some hurry stomps before leaving to finish their duties, Chica rushes out of the theater and Eclipse flies hanged on the skyhook.

The jester crosses paths with his creator with some papers in hands. What Geppetto sees is just a colorful blur rushing back and forth above the theater. The jester waves to the elder with some boxes in hands before flying away again.

He adjusts his glasses as he watches patiently his creation bouncing back and forth. The man sighs with a smile hidden under his beard as he looks down at the papers. The metal clicking and bells jiggling being music to his ears.

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Security Detail 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~5.1k

Summary: Little Nat goes to a birthday party

A/N: More inspired by ideas from @rianncreates

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, creeps, and cuteness

This was your nightmare. Honestly the idea of having near 2 dozen kids running around makes you more anxious than you ever would have imagined. Between keeping them from leaving your sight, and making sure no one fell off the jungle gym you didn’t get a moment to relax as you supervised your daughter’s friend’s birthday party.

This is one of the first events you’ve gone to like this and you are realizing quickly that you definitely don't give Wanda enough credit. She loved these types of things, and watching her now was truly an experience. She was somehow the social butterfly between the two of you. She wandered from table to table and talked to parents, kids, and their friends with a smile on her face and an energy that you couldn’t even attempt to muster at this point.

You’re out of your element and it feels painfully obvious as you sit off by yourself. Well, you have your dogs with you. You’d brought them because you had no idea how long this would last, and you hadn’t wanted to worry about them. They loved to get out anyway and after exploring the playground and getting their fill of scratches from the kids, they’d come to sit beside you. You’re considering getting up and making the rounds with Wanda when someone sits beside you with a loud sigh.

“Hanging in there?”

You turn to see Pietro shooting you a knowing look that you just laugh at. He doesn't like these things either, but he can wander off without getting judged. If you did that you'd be a neglectful mother, so you're sitting nearby-ish as you take a breather.

“This is exhausting. I don't know how Wanda does it.”

Pietro glances toward his sister who's smiling as she talks to one of the dads that has at least three kids of his own here. He’s not sure how his sister went from mobster to stay at home mom so seamlessly but it was never something he imagined for her. He was glad that she seemed happy, and he honestly could use some of her energy. He reaches down to scratch Boone’s head with a smile. The dogs have been very good during this whole thing. He’d been afraid that they’d be overwhelmed by the near thirty children here, but they were actually pretty chill. They mostly looked around and kept an eye on Natalya, but she was having fun with her friends and was being watched by more than enough people.

“She’s an impressive one, my sister.”

You smile at the thought and you hum in agreement as your gaze falls to your wife again. She really is spectacular and as you watch her laugh at something the birthday kid’s dad says you feel yourself sigh wistfully.

“She’s amazing, for sure.”

Pietro turns to you with a pinched expression when he realizes you’re practically drooling over his sister. He rolls his eyes before slapping you on the back to startle you out of your daydreaming. You flinch and turn to glare at him as he pretends to be annoyed.

“Hey, that’s my sister you’re drooling over.”

You roll your eyes before slapping your brother-in-law’s hand away. You shake your head before meeting your wife’s gaze briefly before she returns her attention to the host. You briefly wonder how much they spent on this party for their son who’s 4 and won’t remember it. They even hired caterers that are still milling about to make sure that there’s enough food to go around. At this point it’s mostly the parents eating as the kids run around and play on the playground or in the large field that hosts various games.

You hope that Natalya won’t want a party like this. Despite having the money to throw one, logistically it sounds like a nightmare, and you aren’t sure how many more of these you can sit through.

“I’m not drooling. She does look beautiful in that dress though; don’t you think Piet?”

You’re teasing him now because despite agreeing that his sister is pretty, he finds it a little awkward to talk with you about her looks. You know this and you’re just giving him a hard time because it’s what you two do. You take his lack of response as answer enough and you sigh before checking on your daughter again. She’s strayed away from her friend group to play with one of the other dogs roaming around here. You turn back to Pietro to see that he’s spaced out, and you sigh before getting to your feet.

“I’m going to make the rounds. Want to come?”

Pietro unsurprisingly shakes his head and you just leave him to sit and mull as you wave your dogs along. You’re not going to walk around alone, and you’re grateful that they both stand and follow after you obediently.

“Good boys.”

“Thank you.”

You roll your eyes and don’t even bother to respond to Pietro as you decide to get your wife something to eat. She’s been milling around for so long, and you’re not sure if she even ate, so you take a detour to the ridiculously large buffet with a smile. You make her a plate and grab her something to drink before you glance around for your daughter again. She’s wandering farther away and you frown and decide you don’t like this. You turn to Boone before pointing toward Natalya and waving your dog off.

“Go get her, Boone.”

You should do it yourself, but you’re lazy and you’ll check on her as soon as you stop by Wanda to make sure she’s not going to pass out. It’s way too hot for an outdoor party, in your opinion at least, but you’ll worry about that later. You walk up behind your wife and smile as you hear her laughing as she continues to chat. You check behind you and frown when you realize your other dog abandoned you, but since he’s going after his brother, you’re going to let it go.

“Hey there, Wands.”

Wanda’s exhausted. She underestimated how tiring such a large birthday party would be. She’s playing the part of a host despite not being one, but she’d wanted to get to know the parents of her daughter’s classmates in a setting that wasn’t run by the school. She’d learned a lot, but mostly she’s exhausted herself after nearly an hour of chitchatting. She’s beyond grateful to hear your voice behind her, and as soon as she realizes you’ve brought her food, she could just kiss you.

“Hi detka. Come sit.”

You set the plate and cup in front of your wife, and you’re about to sit down but you remember that you were going to check on Natalya. She would do anything to pet a dog and you have to make sure she doesn’t go too far. She was still in sight when you sent Boone after her, but you had to go make sure she didn’t stray any further. You kiss your wife’s cheek before you point over your shoulder and explain why you’re not taking her up on her very appealing offer.

“I will in a minute, I have to go wrangle Little Nat first. She’s over there.”

Wanda turns to where you’re pointing, but she doesn’t see her daughter anywhere. She’s frowning by the time she looks back to you and your smile turns down too when Wanda shakes her head.

“Where is she? I don’t see her.”

Natalya was getting tired of playing and she could use a second serving of cake. She had planned on doing this immediately after leaving her friends, but she spotted a new dog that she hadn’t pet yet and she couldn’t resist the urge to follow it. It was a small scruffy dog with a purple collar, and she followed him closely as he headed away from the party and toward the parking lot.

“Come here, doggy.”

Natalya reaches out and is just short of the dog so she starts to walk faster. She doesn’t even realize she’s getting too far away from everyone else until she follows the dog behind some trees. She stops short and turns around only to realize she can’t see her parents or uncle anymore. Her moms had told her before coming here that she needed to stay in sight at all times. She could only talk to the other kids at the party and their parents, but no one else at the park. She’s reminded of this last rule as she sees a man dressed in black and white waiting for his dog with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He holds out his arms and Natalya just stands where she is as she debates heading back.

“Hello there. Do you want to say hi?”

Natalya is conflicted. She’s not supposed to talk to strangers, but her moms never said anything about petting their dogs. She nods meekly before she steps forward so she’s in the shade and closer to the cute dog who’s panting from his run over here.

“Yes please.”

The man smiles before he drops the still smoking cigarette and stomps it out before pointing at his dog. He watches the brunette take a couple of tentative steps forward.

“Go ahead, he’s very sweet.”

Natalya reaches out a hand to pet the dog’s head, and she smiles as he licks her in return. She’s about to ask what his name is, but his owner catches her off guard as he grabs her around her waist and picks her up. She doesn’t get a chance to protest before he’s covering her mouth and hurrying off toward the parking lot.

You’re speed walking toward where you’d last seen your daughter with Wanda and Pietro on your heels. You are only a little worried when you walk past the field and toward the parking lot without seeing her. You don’t even see your dogs as you mutter under your breath anxiously.

“She was just here, I swear.”

Wanda’s response is cut off as she hears shouting nearby from beyond the trees near the path that leads back to their car. She frowns when she realizes that they’re screaming in pain and only a second later she notices that it’s nearly drowning out the sound of growling. You and Pietro run toward the sounds and as you get closer you recognize your dogs and run faster.

“Hey!”

The sight that greets you is a lot to process, but you don’t hesitate to run forward to stop Pietro from committing murder. Your two dogs have latched onto the legs of a man in a caterer’s uniform who’s holding something under his arm. It takes a second for you to realize it’s a person, and then only a millisecond longer to realize it’s your daughter. You ignore the small barking terrier as you call off your dogs as the man finally drops Natalya. She falls hard on the ground and you rush to grab her just as Pietro tackles her attempted kidnapper.

“You fucker!”

“Pietro!”

Wanda’s shocked to see someone with her daughter in their arms, and it takes her a second to realize that they’d been trying to run off with her. She had feared something like this would happen for only the first few years of Natalya’s life. However, every scenario that she’d imagined hadn’t included a birthday party. She supposes that was shortsighted on her part. She watches for only a second before she’s running forward to check on her daughter that you’re helping off the ground. She’s got dirt on her face, but otherwise she looks unharmed.

“Natalya!”

“Little Nat, are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

You’re frantic as you check over your daughter to make sure she’s not injured. Luckily you only notice a small scrape on her knee from the fall, but otherwise she appears unharmed. You ignore your brother-in-law as he beats up the man who had snuck into the party and lured your daughter away. Your anger makes you want to kick the man while he’s down and already bloodied by the older Maximoff, but you decide to focus on your daughter.

“Pietro, stop!”

Wanda gathers Natalya in her arms while you try to calm down your dogs. They’re still barking and snarling at the brunette that they’d intercepted, and they’re too on edge to listen to you. You see that Wanda has her phone out and she’s hopefully calling the police so you focus on Pietro. He’s understandably pissed, but you can’t let him kill the guy before you find out what he was doing. Rather if he was doing it of his own volition. You hadn’t heard anything about your wife’s work for years. Since she’s been retired, you’d never had problems, and you hope as horrible as it sounds, that this is just a run of the mill creep instead of a mobster creep.

“Who the hell are you?! What did you want with my niece?”

Pietro’s breathing heavily as he stares down at brunette who’s barely fighting back. He realizes quickly that this person probably isn’t anyone’s hired help. He’s too soft and the thought that he’s working alone is as comforting as it is disgusting. Pietro grabs the collar of his bloodied shirt, and he’s about to slam him on the ground again when he hears new voices.

Apparently, the dogs had attracted the attention of some of the other parents and they’d wanted to make sure that no one was hurt. Wanda noticed them first, but you’re the one who talked to them about the confusing, disturbing scene in front of them. Pietro reluctantly let the brunette up and he just held him tightly as he waited for the sirens to get closer.

Once he was in custody and everyone involved had been questioned, you decided it was time to leave. You look to your daughter who’s sleeping in her uncle’s arms, before turning toward your dogs. They were still a little wired, but they’d calmed down as soon as the cops showed up. You were grateful that you’d sent Boone after Nat and that they’d both protected their sister, but you’re feeling guilty about not going to get your daughter yourself. She would never have gotten that far if you had just gone after her, and you’re kicking yourself for what almost happened.

“Stop it.”

You turn in confusion at the sound of your wife’s voice, but when you see her knowing look you just turn away with a scowl. She’s not mad at you because there’s no way you could have known what was going to happen. Nat was still in sight when you saw her, and you sent Boone after her with the intention of finding her right after. She’s sure she would have done the same thing. She’s just lucky that the dogs had saved Natalya, and that her brother had beaten him up for all of them. She reaches out for your arm as you shake your head.

“I shouldn’t have left her alone. I’m so stupid.”

Wanda grabs your chin to turn you towards her, and you’re met with a stern look that you know isn’t something you should argue with.

“Stop it, Y/n. This isn’t your fault. You were going to check on her, and in the meantime, you made sure she was taken care of.”

Wanda takes a moment to look at the two dogs that might still have blood on their faces. She didn’t worry about that now as she knelt down to pet the duo with a wide smile. They had been loyal companions for years, and Wanda had always hoped that if a day like this came around, they would step up and protect their own. She couldn’t be prouder of them and she kisses both of their furry heads in thanks.

“Such good boys. You’re getting steak tonight.”

You guess that Wanda’s right. You hadn’t predicted that you’d face this threat today, but you’re glad that you were more prepared than you thought. Well, it was less you and more your dogs and your brother-in-law being able to thwart the low life who tried to steal your daughter. With any luck, something like this won’t happen ever again, but you can at least take comfort in the fact that your daughter has her own guard dogs.

“They definitely are.”

When the trio got home after the party everything seemed normal. They had dinner after spending some time on the couch watching one of Natalya’s favorite shows. Nat nearly fell asleep at the table after the tiring and stressful time at the party, so you picked her up to take her upstairs to bed. You’re distracted by tiny hands pulling on your hair as you walk through your daughter’s bedroom door. You frown when she whines quietly before speaking barely loudly enough for you to hear.

“I want to sleep with you and Mama.”

You aren’t really surprised to hear this, but you and Wanda still need to talk and figure out what you’re going to do about what happened this afternoon. The police had their own investigation going of course, but you knew your wife well, and you would be foolish to think that she wasn’t going to look into it herself. You decide to try and compromise and you figure you can stay here with Nat until she falls asleep and then go catch up with your wife.

“How about I stay with you instead?”

Natalya frowns but she nods and lets you get her ready for bed. After she brushes her teeth and changes clothes, you tuck her in and grab a book from her shelf beside the bed. You smile as you ask your daughter if she wants you to read this tonight, and after grabbing Winston and holding him tight, she nods wordlessly.

Wanda’s still downstairs trying to talk her brother down when you finish reading to Natalya. You leave her once you realize she’s fast asleep, and you head back downstairs to find your wife growing frustrated as she finishes her drink. She’d had a glass of wine at dinner, so this must be her second but you don’t pay much attention to that right now.

“I know Pietro, and I appreciate it, but we’ll figure something else out. I’m not going to blow our cover on this. He was probably just a lone creep.”

You had come to the same conclusion, but you just sigh in defeat as you go straight for the fridge for another drink too. You choose to grab a beer and are almost half done with it by the time Wanda hangs up with her brother. She takes a deep breath before turning toward you with a small smile. She’s tired and stressed, but she’s sure you are too so she takes a minute to check in with you.

“Natalya’s asleep?”

You nod in confirmation before setting down your beer as Wanda reaches out for you with a tired look. You hold her close before glancing over her shoulder at your two dogs that are resting in their giant dog bed in the corner. All of the kids seem to be down for the night, so you decide that you’ll go to sleep soon too. This had been a stressful experience and you could feel yourself crashing at the very thought of your pillow.

“She is. How’s Pietro?”

Wanda shrugs before muttering something into your hair about how he’s being an overprotective uncle, but he should calm down soon. You listen to Wanda’s plan before you lead her toward the stairs once you both finish your drinks and set them in the sink. Wanda squeezes your hand as she shuts the door behind her and keeps you from collapsing immediately.

“How are you feeling, detka?”

You sigh before you shake your head and admit that you’re still a little upset. This is understandable and Wanda’s certainly not happy either. She’s terrified and still shocked that you both could have lost your daughter today. If you’d been even 30 seconds later, or you hadn’t sent Boone after Natalya, she could have been taken. Wanda shivers at the thought but she focuses back on you when you finally respond as you lead her to the bed. You feel like you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down right now.

“Still reeling. I can’t believe this happened.”

Wanda nods in agreement as she leans against you as soon as you’re both sitting on the edge of the bed. She wraps an arm around your waist before she hums in contemplation. She had thought that something like this would happen a lot earlier in Natalya’s life, but she wasn’t going to mention that now. Instead, she focuses on you and the fact that your daughter is sleeping safely in her bedroom.

“Me neither, but we’ll figure out what happened, and the important thing is that she’s safe.”

You can’t argue with this or the fact that you’re relieved to have your daughter safe and sound back at home. You offer your wife a small smile before kissing her cheek and taking a deep breath.

“You’re right, Wands. As usual.”

Her response is an amused smile and you just follow her wordlessly as she leads you to the bathroom.

You’re asleep almost before your head hits the pillow, but you unfortunately don’t stay asleep. You manage a few hours before something wakes you up with a start. You frown in confusion and wait to see if whatever woke you up happens again, but no luck. It’s quiet and you turn to your left to see that Wanda’s sleeping soundly. You sigh before you close your eyes and try to go back to sleep. You don’t know what woke you, but now that you’re up, you’re tense and finding it hard to fall back asleep.

Your mind wanders to the events of yesterday’s party, and you know despite how everything worked out that you won’t be letting your daughter out of your sight for a while. Whenever she leaves the house, she’ll either have you or Wanda within arm’s reach. This thought makes you want to check on Natalya, and you sneak out of bed only a couple of minutes later to see if your daughter is still sleeping peacefully.

You quietly walk down the hall before pushing the door to Natalya’s room open slowly. You see Winston is on the ground and you’re about to grab him and put him back in bed with your daughter when you realize she isn’t there. The sheets are in disarray and her pillow’s almost on the floor, but Natalya’s not anywhere in sight. You try not to panic, but you’re already looking around the room before you get on your knees to look under the bed.

“Natalya? Little Nat, where are you?”

Once you start tearing through the closet you truly start to panic. You stand up and nearly trip over the various shoes and clothes you’ve thrown around on your way to the door. You stop in the doorway when you run into a confused and slightly miffed Wanda. She’d just woken up to sounds coming from her daughter’s room, and given how on edge she was she didn’t hesitate to get up and investigate. When she realized you weren’t in bed, she quickly ran down the hall only for you to almost barrel her over.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? What’s-?”

You shake your head as you grab your wife’s shoulders to steady both of you. You’re starting to walk past her as you speak up in a jumble of words that you hope make sense. You plan on looking around in the other bedrooms before running back to your room to call the police.

“Nat’s not in her bed, Wands.”

Wanda’s eyes widen in surprise before she glances in her daughter’s room to confirm this. She curses under her breath before she runs back to the bedroom to grab her phone. She’s not sure if you even hear her since you’ve run to the next room to check for Natalya.

“I’ll call Piet.”

You see quickly that both of the bedrooms are untouched and after checking the closets, you’re sweating you’re so anxious. You don’t bother to shut the doors as you run back down the hall and look for your wife. She’s still on the phone with her brother and you hear her speaking frantically in her native language. You don’t know what she’s saying, but you hear Pietro’s equally frantic voice as you check to make sure that the security system is still armed. There’s nothing amiss and you start to tremble from the lack of leads and the idea of someone sneaking in here. You force yourself to take a deep breath as you look around frantically, and the sound of Wanda’s increasingly anxious voice fades into the background as you lay eyes on your dogs. They’re still lying in their bed, but they’re awake as they watch you and Wanda panic. You find this odd because usually they’d be all over you and any activity that’s happening. Instead, they’re curled up next to each other in bed with-

“Wanda, she’s here.”

You miss your wife looking over to you and then promptly hanging up after she spots her daughter. She’s sleeping beside her dogs in their oversized bed, and they’re both curled around her protectively with Boone using the brunette’s shoulder as a pillow. You breathe a sigh of relief and almost start crying as you hurry forward to check on your daughter. Rogue’s tail starts to wag and Boone tries to lick you, but you focus on Natalya who’s sleeping soundly despite being covered in dog hair and being squished between the heavy dogs.

“Hey, Little Nat. Wake up.”

You are still trying to calm your breathing when Wanda comes up next to you and kneels by your side. She reaches out for Rogue to scratch him as she waits for Nat to sit up. She grumbles slightly but she sits up and rubs at her eyes with a frown at the sight of her worried parents.

“Is it morning yet, Mama?”

Wanda shakes her head as you hold your arms out for Natalya, and you smile when she starts to crawl toward you.

“No, milaya. Mom went to go check on you, but you weren’t in bed. What are you doing down here?”

Natalya climbs into your lap before wrapping her tiny arms around your waist with a frown. She tries to hide her face in your stomach, but Wanda reaches out for her because this is important. She wants her daughter to look at her.

“I didn’t want to sleep a-alone, and you said no dogs on the bed.”

Both you and Wanda frown at this but seem to realize what Little Nat’s saying. You hate that this happened, and maybe it’s just yesterday’s events that made you freak out, but you’d let the dogs sleep in Nat’s bed if she wanted them to. It was much better than having a heart attack.

Wanda seems to be on the same page, and she smiles softly at her daughter who’s looking at her shyly. She thinks she’s in trouble, but you hold her tightly and kiss the top of her head which makes her look up curiously.

“Okay, next time if you want company come to us first, okay? I was really worried when I didn’t see you in bed.”

Nat’s lower lip juts out in a pout and she shoots you a guilty look before holding you tighter. You watch Wanda run her fingers through your daughter’s tangled hair before shaking her head. She surprises you by what she says next when Nat apologizes.

“Sorry Mommy.”

Wanda’s just grateful that her heart’s started to beat normally again and she didn’t call anyone but her brother. She’ll apologize for waking him up so early tomorrow.

“It’s okay, but from now on the dogs can sleep on your bed. On top of a blanket though. How does that sound?”

Natalya smiles widely and nods in excitement which makes you feel lighter. You let Natalya go and she hugs Wanda quickly before she starts to bounce excitedly in her lap while looking between her redhead mom and her dogs.

“Okay! Can they sleep there now?”

You can’t help but laugh as you see Wanda regret her decision almost immediately, but you nod quickly as you watch Natalya clumsily get to her feet and near tackle her dogs. Wanda sighs but you can tell from her smile that she’s happy as she watches her daughter throw her arms around Rogue’s neck. The shepherd had been watching lazily and he just lets out a surprised huff when Natalya falls on him. You just stand up before reaching out to help your wife to her feet as Natalya tries to coax her dog out of his bed.

“Rogue! Come on let’s go!”

The shepherd considers ignoring her, you can tell, but eventually he sneezes in her face before climbing to his feet. Natalya leads him upstairs after hugging Boone goodnight. You squeeze Wanda’s hand as you lead her upstairs following in your adorable daughter’s footsteps.

“She’s so cute, Wands.”

Wanda sighs in defeat but she can’t argue with you. As she watches Natalya lead Rogue by the collar to her bedroom while talking to him animatedly, she can’t help but be grateful for her daughter’s excitement at something so simple. She’d give a lot to see her daughter smile, and cleaning up a little extra dog fur didn’t seem like a big deal. You two tuck your daughter and Rogue into bed before leaving her to go back to sleep. You release another heavy sigh as you and Wanda arrive back to your bedroom. She wraps an arm around your shoulders before pressing a kiss to the side of your head with a smile.

“She really is, detka, but she’s going to be the death of us.”

You laugh in response but only nod in agreement as you sink back into the bed with a groan. Wanda smiles at you before cuddling up into your side with a yawn. She closes her eyes and hears you switch off the lights before settling beside her with a tired hum. As you both fall back to sleep for the second time that night, you hope that tomorrow will be calmer.

Little Nat Adventures