#god I wish I could live in this exact feeling for a while

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Boothill, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his shy gn crush giving him a love letter before leaving quickly?

Sunday:

Is calm upon receiving the note and still just as calm after reading it.

He knew this day was coming, you weren’t necessarily subtle about it either but he didn’t want to bring it up to you, knowing that if he did you’d loose all the confidence you’ve mustered up in order to give him the note.

He could read you like an open book and yet your sweet, genuine words touched his heart regardless. You held his heart in your hand and you weren’t even aware, he’ll be sure to rectify that soon enough.

While he wishes you could’ve told him in person, however he’ll gladly suffice for a note instead, seeing as it was the closest he’ll get in regard to an official confession.

With his place in your heart ensured, Sunday could finally use this as an opportunity to spoil you to your hearts content. Anything and everything you could ever possibly want or wish for was going to be yours if he had anything to do with it.

Your wish was his command and he’ll gladly rid himself of any competitors for your heart, all the while shielding your eyes from his underhanded tactics in doing so.

Welt:

You make this old man feel as though he were young and lively when you gave him the note and running off before he could say anything.

He felt as though he was in a romcom that he saw once…not that he was complaining.

Your note was so sweet and thoughtful that the more he continued to read, the more he began to find even more reasons to love you, for who you were was the most precious and perfect person in his life.

He didn’t want to confess first incase that he misread your past interactions for something else, but the note you’ve given him proved that his initial thoughts were correct, and that in reality he was just insecure and felt silly of the idea that someone his age was still experiencing things such as a crush.

But it was so much more than that and Welt knew it.

The only question left was, when was it going to be his time to confess?

Dan heng:

Thank god he took the note back to his room while he did because had he read it beforehand, otherwise his fellow trailblazers would’ve seen his face go the reddest it’s ever been in history.

He reads and re-reads your note to make sure that he wasn’t tricking himself but no, it was a real physical note from you confessing your crush on him.

Dan Heng felt as though he needed to sit down and think this through before he did something impulsive and stupid.

His little dragon noodle brain was telling him that he should seek out the most beautiful of all treasures, whether that be literature, clothing, jewels, and give them to you in droves in hopes of impressing you into being his mate.

Dan Heng dismisses it quickly as it came as it’ll probably overwhelm you and that was the exact opposite of what he wanted, and with that it was back to the drawing board to brainstorm.

Gallagher:

The moment he reads your note, he’s already got ideas on how your first date should go.

He’s not pissing about, not when you’ve given him the opportunity to treat you like he thought you should be treated; like you were the most priceless thing in existence because to him you very much were.

So why should he hesitate and potentially miss his chance to be with the person of his dreams?

He knew your favourite drink like the back of his hand from the countless times he’s made in perfecting it to your liking, so that wasn’t going to be as much of a problem as asking you out on a date was.

But he’ll figure something out, even if he’d have to improvise on the day. It would’ve been worth it if it meant having you by his side by the end of it.

Blade:

He’s not use to this sort of thing as love notes were a foreign concept to him.

He understood the intention and meaning behind it but he wasn’t the one to receive such notes.

So when you dropped off the note with him and ran the faster he’s ever seen you with a flustered look upon your face, Blade instantly knew then and there what the note was solely from your expression.

He wasn’t stupid so why he feeling a fluttering within his chest upon making this revelation?

It wasn’t painful nor caused his body any ache nor strife, if anything the more the warm, euphoric feeling spread throughout his body, the more his daily pains become an after thought in light of a possibility that you might actually like him back.

He always thought that the stories and blood -both his own and others- that stained his hands would run you off within a moments notice. Instead you choose to grasp his hands gently, wipe away the blood unfazed and still be able to look into his eyes after all that and smile.

You were his and Blade would be damned if he allowed anyone to encroach on you, regardless of their intentions. You weren’t to be taken from him for he’s already been through a lot and you weren’t going to be another name amongst the lost.

Boothill:

‘What’s this? Finally come to confess to me have you?’ He’d tease but would be genuinely surprised when he opens the note and finds that it actually is a confession note.

His crush? Liking him back? Bullshit!

He may act confident and self assured but he was in heavily in denial to begin with, but the more he re-read the note, he could tell that you were being serious. Which was a drastic change from your typically shy and anxious demeanour.

He even had to pinch the skin of his face to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming this up and that you were genuinely in love with him.

Sad he knows, but would you really be willing to date a man who wouldn’t be able to feel you expect from his face? Yeah he didn’t think so.

And yet you’ve proven him wrong by writing him a love letter confessing how you didn’t care about that, and how you loved him regardless if he could feel you or not. He was still someone you cared for deeply at the end of the day, never less someone you happened to find attractive. You weren’t shallow and Boothill knows this.

Not only that but he was genuinely scared that his best wasn’t going to be enough for you, sweet, kind, caring you…However Boothill recognises that hesitating and fearing the what ifs weren’t going to help him in wining your heart true and proper.

#hsr blade x reader #hsr imagines #hsr imagine #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #Honkai star rail imagines #Honkai star rail imagine #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x reader #sunday imagines #sunday imagine #hsr boothill x reader #boothill x reader #boothill imagines #boothill imagine #welt x reader #welt yang x reader #welt Yang imagine #welt yang imagines #hsr gallagher x reader #gallagher x reader #gallagher imagine #gallagher imagines #dan heng x reader #Dan heng imagine #Dan heng imagines #blade imagines #blade imagine #blade x reader

[ja3mln]

part two & three

cw: popular guy!jaemin, smut, a bit of fluff, very cliché, semi-public sex, dirty talk (use of the word slut), mention of voyeurism, spit kink, facial.

words: 891

_____________________________________________

jaemin was the exact cliché of the popular guy you see in movies: captain of the football team, sociable, very good looking and fucks every girl he can. the last point was not really true tho, not since you both start fucking anyway. because yes, you were fucking with the na jaemin but it was not just one hook up like jaemin usually does. in fact, jaemin was completely obsessed with you (mostly your pussy) since the first time he fucked you. he found himself lost interest in other girls because your pussy was more than enough for him. that's exactly why you were both fucking in the locker room right now. jaemin didn't even took the time to take off your skirt, his dick was deep in your pussy as his hand was holding firmly your face so you can keep your eyes on the mirror in front of you, "you see the way i'm fucking you right now? you wish everyone could see you like this huh? see how much you're a slut for the captain's dick?”, you couldn't answer, too busy moaning and trying to not lose balance as jaemin pounds in you like his life depends on it. his other hand grabs your hip so he can go faster, the skin slaps filling the room. "fuck... your pussy is made perfectly for my cock.", "please jaem....oh my god", he chuckles at how desperate you are and force your mouth open, spitting in it before putting his lips on yours to share a sloppy kiss with you. "this pussy belongs to me, right sweetheart?", he says as his hip moves gets slower but way more firm, pushing his dick as far as he can into you. "yes... only you jaem!", he gives you a messy kiss before sliding his hand on your throat, keeping his eyes on the mirror so he can watch every expression on your face. "gonna cum...please", "cum for me, baby", he pounds into you faster, feeling his own orgasm getting closer. your moans and his groans accompany the skin slaps as you grab the locker besides you, trying not to fall because of the way your legs shakes because of the long and intense orgasm you're having right now. jaemin doesn't stop his moves for a few more seconds before pulling his dick out, and you look at him immediately into the mirror, confused "you didn't finish?”, " i wanna cum on your face, angel.", he says as he forces you on your knees and you giggle, looking up at him as you grab his cock in your hand, starting to stroke it. your eyes didn't leave his one second and you open your mouth, making jaemin go crazy. "fuck, you're just a dirty slut who lives for my cock", you just giggle again and jaemin cum all over your face, tightly grabbing your hair, his heavy breath filling the room and his head falling backwards for a moment before he looks at you again. the view that you offers him almost made him hard again; on your knees, collecting the cum all over your face with your fingers to put it in your mouth as you look at him with watery eyes. "fuck, if we had time i would've fuck you again", he pulls you by the hair towards him and kiss you. the kiss was softer this time, your tongues playing together and his hands firmly on your hips. he pulls apart after a few seconds, his face close to yours and one of his hand grabs your neck "if i see you wear this slutty skirt at school ever again, i'll fuck you in front of the whole team.", he says while looking at you deeply in the eyes and you feel your pussy throbs again, just looking back at jaemin and nodding. "good girl", he gives you one more kiss before helping you straighten your clothes and your hair, smiling softly at you "see you baby".

the more you fucked, the more jaemin was growing a soft spot for you. it was kind of new for him because he never really felt like this towards any of his hook ups before. but with you it was different, first because he didn't need to fuck other girls besides you to fulfill his needs and second because you were fun to hang out with. jaemin found himself daydreaming about you, i mean he did daydream about fucking you before but this time, it wasn't in a sexual way so that's why jaemin starts trying to get closer to you by starting small talks after you fuck at his or yours. he start taking care of you after you fucked, making sure that you're okay and cleaning you off everytime. he tried to find excuses to see you and hang out like telling you that he's struggling in some classes and that he need your help. sure, jaemin loves fucking you but maybe he also loves seeing you laugh at his jokes and how you make the most boring stuff interesting when you try to teach him something. maybe jaemin had a real crush on you but was too scared to admit it because he was just a hook up to you. maybe one day he will find the courage to ask you on a real date.

#nct dream x reader #nct x reader #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin smut #jaemin fluff #jaemin oneshot #jaemin scenarios #nct dream smut

[talaok]

In control

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel is the boss of a group of criminals in the QZ, and you're his little bunny everyone knows better than to look at, but Joel seems to have forgotten who's really in control, so you decide to remind him.

warnings: as always this is just porn so...smut| restraints (idk man he's handcuffed), teasing, f masturbation, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, praising, pet naming, and lots of daddy kink of course

btw this is the third part to this but it can be read alone

It all started with one simple sentence.

"You do as I say, bunny, I'm in control here"

That's what Joel had told you last night when you were teasing him a little too much and his patience was running thin.

And sure... in the moment it was hot and made you comply immediately, but as you finally got ready to go to bed...those words echoed in your mind over and over, so much that you couldn't fall asleep.

The thing was that, yes, you did do as he said most of the time, especially when it came to the bedroom, but you did so because you wanted to, not because he had all the power.

Hell no. It was the exact opposite.

You held all the power.

the real power

And as much as you were certain both of you knew that, after last night... you couldn't help but wonder if he was starting to forget

And what do you do when someone forgets something?

You remind them, of course

__ __ __

You knew he was coming even before he opened the door. 

it was hard to miss the sound his boots made with each step. It always amazed you how every single part of him, (his walk, his talk, his demeanor) was rough, but all he's ever been to you was soft, well...except for the times where you didn't want him to be.

"I'm home" he called, as he closed the door behind him and took off his shoes.

You were practically vibrating from how excited you were.

"Hey there," you said nonchalantly as you walked into the living room.

And the moment he saw you- the moment he saw you he looked ready to faint and jump your bones at the same time.

You had put on those tiny white lace panties and matching bra he'd gifted you a little while ago.

Only that

"Did you have a good day?" you asked, biting your lip as you met him halfway, being that he was already stalking towards you.

"It just got a hell of a lot better" he murmured, wasting no time before taking hold of each side of your head and meeting his lips with yours.

"What did I do to deserve this?" he asked, eyeing your outfit

You shrugged "I just wanted to surprise you"

He smirked, picking you up without so much as a warning.

"Well you did bunny" he muttered, in between kisses "Surprised me real good"

He was already hard, his cock was straining against his jeans and you could feel it right against your core.

"Been thinking about you all day, baby" he breathed, as his lips took hold of every piece of skin they could access "And then I come home and find you like this?" he smirked "You might just kill me one of these days, my heart it's not as strong a it used to be, I'm an old man sweetheart"

You giggled, a part of you forgetting your mission for tonight.

"You're not old daddy"

"No, then what am I?" he asked as he kicked the door to the bedroom open.

"Very handsome" 

A soft chuckle left his lips

"Well played" he kissed you, as he sat on the bed with you now straddling his lap.

You had put on a red lipstick and it was now smeared all over his mouth too.

His hands were on your ass, guiding you to grind onto him, and forcing a whimper out of your throat.

"god I love the little sounds you make f'me bunny" he groaned, "wish I could listen to them all day" he murmured as he took you by surprise, and in a matter of seconds you were pinned down beneath him, his whole body caging yours.

"Daddy" you whined, as his fingers started to graze against your belly towards the hem of your panties.

His hum was muffled by his work on your neck.

Oh how easy it would have been to just abort your mission and let him take care of you like you knew he was about to.

But a part of you, a part of you still wanted to see the look on his face when he realized what was happening.

and that part of you won.

"Daddy wait" you murmured

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked, raising his head to look at you.

"I just- I want to take care of you today," you said sweetly, batting your eyelashes.

A smirk pulled at his lips

"Yeah?"

"yes daddy"

"And how would you like to do that?" he taunted

You bit your lip, hiding the grin underneath them "You'll see"

It took a moment for him to agree, but seeing how eager you were at the prospect he didn't have it in him to say no.

"alright" he nodded

A wide smile rose to your lips

"Lay down" you instructed.

And with a groan, he did.

His head was resting on a pillow, and his whole body was now at your disposal.

You took your time getting on top of him, and once again, you felt every cell in your body jump from the excitement.

You smiled as you let your hands explore his chest, still covered by an old flannel.

His hands immediately went to your waist, but you stopped him just in time.

"na-ah" you shook your head "no touching"

He cocked an eyebrow, but let you do your thing as you placed his arms back on each side of him.

Your eyes found his, and as you only found lust and restraint in his, you were sure he could see something else spark in the back of yours, so before he could have time to ask you what exactly that was, you started undoing his shirt, kissing any new piece of skin you uncovered, until his whole broad chest was on display, and his cock was painfully hard.

You stifled a laugh, if only he knew what was about to happen...

"Bunny" he groaned, trying to grind against you "you're killin' me here" 

"But Daddy" you pouted, starting to gently stroke his arms "I haven't done anything yet"

"Yeah baby" he chuckled, as you took hold of his wrists, slowly moving his arms above his head, and grinding onto him at the same time so as to distract him "That's the problem"

"'m sorry" you murmured, ghosting his lips "I'll do something now, close your eyes"

"Close my eyes?"

"yes daddy"

And if he hadn't been so completely hypnotized by you and the feel of you, he would have noticed the sound of metal against metal coming from behind him... but as I said, Joel was a bit preoccupied at the moment.

"Alright," he obeyed, closing his eyes.

Now was the time, so as quickly as you could, you wrapped each of his wrists in the cuffs you had hidden, and secured them, being careful not to make them too tight.

You already were gonna torture him, double torture would just have been cruel.

"wha-" his eyes opened immediately as he realized what had happened "bunny..." he growled, now a tint of anger in his tone "What did you do?"

 You bit your lips as you watched him struggle beneath you

One of your fingers went to trace his jawline, stroking his beard at the same time.

He really was handsome...

"I think you know what I did" you smiled

"take them off right now baby" he ordered "or I'm gonna spank that pretty ass of yours until every inch of it is red"

You could only smirk in response.

"Where did you even get these?" 

"I asked one of your men for a favor..." you explained, caressing his pecs

"Who?"

"Why?" you teased

"I'll need to have a talk with him"

You giggled "A talk... sure" you mocked, before bending down to kiss him, tasting all the frustration and arousal on his tongue.

"What's this about?" he asked once you leaned away.

Now was your time to shine.

"You think you're in control here?" you asked, looking him right in the eyes.

"Take these cuffs off and we'll see who's in control"

You chuckled, rolling your hips on his crotch and making a strangled groan flee his lips.

"no no now" you tutted "Here's how this is gonna work" you explained "I'm not gonna touch you... or make you feel good in any way, until I hear you begging for me," you said "Until you say please"

He watched you, his chest heaving with each deep breath he took.

"oh baby you're in so much trouble"

You smiled "It's easy really" you sweet talked "Just beg me"

He chuckled "You know I'm not gonna do that"

You faked a pout, even though you knew damn well that's what he was gonna say.

"That's too bad" you cooed, as you climbed off of him "'cause I'm just so wet already... and I was really in the mood" you continued, now sitting on the bed "so if you're not up for the job... I guess I'm gonna have to do it myself"

"bunny don't you dare-"

You didn't pay his protests any mind as you took one pillow and propped it behind your head as you lay down in front of him.

You watched as his eyes went wide with anger and his hands desperately tried to free themself.

"y/n" he called your name with a sternness you hadn't heard in a while.

He used your name only when he was really pissed off

"What daddy?" you asked innocently, as you slowly spread your legs, giving him a full view of what he was missing "you don't like it when I touch myself?"

You hooked your fingers in your panties, gradually taking them off until you could discard them on the floor with just a flick of your ankle.

"you know I don't" he growled again.

You smiled as you brought two of your own fingers to your mouth, and without breaking eye contact, gently started sucking on them, wanting them to get as wet as possible.

"mhh" you hummed, watching as he fought his restraints.

"You know you could stop this any time you want" you reminded him, unhurriedly bringing your fingers to your core "You just have to beg"

You waited for him to cave, but all he said was

"I'm gonna make you pay for this bunny" 

You let out a low sigh "that's not how you beg daddy" you scolded, starting to slowly circle your clit and causing a soft moan to leave your chest as you shut your eyes.

You could hear his heavy breathing as you started to go faster and faster, and when your fingers traveled downwards, finding your entrance, it was like you could physically feel the anger emanating from him.

You spread your legs even more as you sank your fingers inside of you, having to bite down on your lower lip to stifle an even louder moan.

"feels so good daddy" you whined, as you curled them into your g-spot "so good" you moaned, as he watched every single motion of yours, desperate and mesmerized at the same time.

You let your left-hand travel to your tits, reaching into one of your bra cups until your boob had spilled and you could stroke and grab at it however you wanted, heightening your pleasure.

"Don't you wish you were the one doing this to me?" you teased, as you continued fingering yourself.

Your fingers felt very diffrent from what you were used to

"I know you do," he said "I know those tiny little fingers of yours don't come close to my cock, and you know it too bunny"

"oh trust me" you moaned, fastening your pace just to piss him off "T-they do the job just fine"

"fuck" he groaned "bunny c'mon" 

And there it was, his tone had changed, it was softer now, more pleading.

"What?" you teased, your mouth open as you sucked in ragged little breaths "You want me to stop?"

You could feel your orgasm coming, your legs were stretching desperately across the bed as the sound of your slick cunt filled the room and Joel's poor ears.

"Yeah I do" he breathed 

"Are you gonna beg?" you asked, building your climax

"I know you want this cock baby" 

"That doesn't sound like begging to me" A wicked smile pulled at your lips, as your thumb reached for your clit, making you cry out.

"Oh fuck Daddy" you whined "'m coming" you quickened your pace "I'm-I'm"

"bunny don't even think about-"

but before he could get the full sentence out you were already moaning so loudly any words of him would have been just washed away.

"oh shit" you smiled through a sigh "that felt good"

"yeah? you know what would feel even better?" he asked, watching you crawl closer to him "having my cock deep inside that tight pussy"

"oh yeah that'd feel good too" you admitted, "but you know what you have to do first"

"bunny..." he groaned, as you undid his zipper and pulled down his pants and boxers at the same time before straddling him again.

Your cunt was dripping right onto his manhood, and you could see he was about to give up, so just to give him a slight push...

"whoops" you bit your lip, catching your still glistening fingers "I should probably clean these up shouldn't I?" you cooed, bringing your fingers to your mouth before abruptly stopping "Unless you want to do it..." you considered, offering him your fingers like they were an untouchable prize.

"You know damn well I do baby"

"Yeah?" you asked "All you have to do is say please"

"Bunny-"

"just say it Daddy" You grinded on his cock, making him groan louder than ever before "Just admit that you're not in control"

"fuck-fine" he sighed, making you smile so wide your cheeks hurt.

"please bunny" he murmured

"what was that?" you teased

"You're gonna make me say it again?"

"yes, and put a little enthusiasm in it too"

"or what?" he had the audacity to ask

"or..." you shifted on his lap, making him stifle a moan "I'm not riding your cock" you put simply.

"fuck ok, just- please bunny" he breathed "Please let me taste you, and please ride me, baby"

And again, you smiled wider than ever, as you finally let your fingers in his mouth.

He hummed loudly around them 

"who's in control, daddy?" you asked, retracting your fingers and finally taking his cock in your hand

"You bunny, you're in control" he said with no hesitation "Fuck, you've always been"

"Now that's what I like to hear" you giggled, before ultimately sinking down onto his shaft, moaning loudly as you did.

the relief that washed over Joel almost made him pass out, your pussy was squeezing him tight, shooting pleasure through every nerve in his body, and it took all of him not to come right there and then.

"oh my god," you whimpered, 

he was so deep you could feel him in your fucking belly

"fuck, you feel so good bunny" he groaned, as you started to bounce up and down his dick, crying out loud every time his cock hit that spot inside you that made you want to scream.

Your hands were firmly planted onto his chest, clawing at him like a cat.

"goddamn baby" he purred "you're so fucking tight f'me"

You could feel a bubble forming in your belly and you had to close your eyes as you started rocking back and forth, using his cock to stimulate your G-spot over and over again.

"Just for you daddy" you promised

"I know sweetheart" he groaned again "I know"

Your eyes were fluttering shut as your orgasm went to take over.

"Come for me sweetheart" he breathed, feeling your walls squeeze him even further as he lost himself in the image above him "'m right behind you" he said, pushing you over the edge.

Your mouth was open and your jaw slack as your climax spread inside of you like wildfire, and Joel... Joel couldn't hold it anymore at the sight, releasing inside of you with a roar of your name.

"fuck" you breathed heavily

"you done?" he asked, cocking a brow

"Maybe..." you smirked

"Bunny, you've tortured me enough for tonight, don't you think?"

"fine, you're right" you smiled "Let me find the keys to these things," you said, reaching to your nightstand and gently undoing the cuffs.

He groaned weakly as you freed him, massaging his own wrists.

You laid down next to him, and he took you in his arms, holding you close against him.

"Did you have fun?" he asked, as you placed your head on his chest.

"Oh yeah" you giggled "did you?" you said, looking up at him.

His not-answer was more of an answer than he could have ever given you.

"You did!" you gasped "you liked it"

"alright fine... I might have liked you taking control a little bit" he admitted "but you cuff me to the bed one more time... and you're gonna regret it bunny"

You bit your lip "Is that a challenge?"

"You just try me..." 

#i made focaccia today :) #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller blurb #joel miller angst #fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo

[wheresarizona]

Learning to Live Part 32

summary: It’s the night of his bachelor party, and a sober Javier gets a call from his very drunk fiancée asking him to pick her up from her bachelorette party. Three days later, it’s their wedding day, and Javier hasn’t seen or talked to his bride since the night before—they’d agreed not to see each other until it was time to say ‘I do,’ and his father took it one step further by having her guarded to keep Javier away. Will that really stop him from going to her before the big event (with his eyes covered)?

rating: M (This chapter is very story-driven, BUT there’s a little bit of inappropriate touching. No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (about ten years), Drunk!Reader, bachelor/bachelorette parties, emotional hurt/comfort, dysfunctional family, Javier taking care of you while you’re drunk and when you get sick (it’s very sweet), grief, discussion of pregnancy, WEDDING, getting ready for the wedding, Chucho hardcore not letting you see each other before the wedding, blindfolded Javier sneaking to where you are anyway, tying his bow tie, nerves, panic attack, EMOTIONS, Javier crying when he sees you in your dress, EXTREMELY romantic things said, Javier being cute with kids, you both wrote your own vows (did I mention emotions and romantic things said?), Chucho being a great officiant, (1) bible verse about love with no mention of God/Jesus/anything religious, crying, comedy sprinkled in, a fun and heartfelt chapter)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (no physical descriptions)

word count: 23k+ (Tumblr hates my long chapters and might not let you reblog with a comment. Since reblogs are super important, if you wish to comment, feel free to do it in the comments on the post or send me an ask. 🥰🥰🥰)

a/n: Get your tissues ready; it’s time to get married! 🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭 First of all, Happy Birthday to this story! 2 years old! I just want to thank everyone who’s continued reading this labor of my love. All the comments, reblogs, and likes mean the world to me! They make me want to write more, too. I know there’s no smut in this one, but, in my opinion, I think it’s still really good, and the people who’ve read it agree. There also was literally no opportunity for them to be alone and do anything more than touching—you can blame Chucho for keeping them apart. But the next chapter? Oh, it’s on. It’s gonna be so horny. Lol Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing. I love you.

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

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In the year 1981, Ronald Reagan was sworn in as the 40th President of the United States and almost assassinated two months later; the Space Shuttle Columbia became the first crewed reusable spacecraft to return from orbit successfully, and the wedding of Prince Charles and Diana Spencer was watched by over 750 million people worldwide.

It also happened to be the year Javier Peña’s life went to shit.

Looking back at all that happened, he could pinpoint the exact moment everything went wrong. It wasn’t disappearing in the early hours on the day he was supposed to be wed; it was six months earlier when he let a pretty girl, who never once acknowledged his existence in the several years they went to school together, buy him a drink—that was the beginning of the end. That was the start of his downfall and had his life veering off course.

By the time his wedding to Lorraine had rolled around in early September, Javier was at the lowest he'd ever been in his twenty-two years of life—so depressed, hopeless, and scared that he became numb and was just existing instead of living. Back then, he still had buddies in Laredo with whom he'd gone to high school, and though Lorraine didn't let him hang out with them much, she approved of them throwing him a bachelor party the weekend before their nuptials were supposed to take place.

He hadn't wanted one.

Who would want to celebrate marrying someone they didn't love or even liked? Marriage to Lorraine was a prison sentence, and his only crime had been dating the wrong woman. It’d also be a cruel reminder that he’d lose what little freedom he had in a week’s time.

His friends had known him for many years, having practically grown up together, and they were well aware of Javier’s dread. They had tried to talk him out of going through with it on multiple occasions, but he always stood firm that he wouldn’t abandon his child and their mother, and that he got himself into the mess, and he needed to own up to it—plus there was Lorraine’s father who told Javier he’d never meet his kid if he didn’t marry her.

To stop his pals from worrying about him, he finally agreed to the party and tried his best to act like he was fine when, in reality, his world was crumbling.

It may come as a surprise, but he was once a very social creature who had a lot of friends in his youth—his three closest had been Benito Esquivel, Salvador ‘Sal’ Soto, and Ken Miller. These were the guys who packed him into Sal’s moss green colored ‘72 Chevrolet Blazer and took him on a road trip to Austin, where they went bar hopping and ended up at a strip club, as was the course for bachelor parties.

Javier drank so much that night his memory was spotty on all that had happened, yet he distinctly remembered a moment when he was completely wasted in a private room at the club, crying while getting a lap dance and the kind stripper comforting him in the middle of it.

His first bachelor party didn’t go so well and wasn’t something he liked to think back on. He wished he could rip that entire chapter out of his life, but it was important for shaping the man he became—it began a chain of events that would eventually lead him to finding the perfect woman he was meant to be with—the one who truly loved him, wanted nothing more than for him to be happy, and filled that part of him he’d always been missing.

Cielito was the love of his life, his soulmate, his media naranja.

And they shared the same kind of love his parents once had, which he’d always dreamed of having but never imagined he’d actually get to experience.

His buddies had tried to keep in contact with him after he ran away, but he was too ashamed of how he left and didn't want their pity. It wasn't until his mother's funeral in '91 that he saw most of them again, and though he appreciated them being there, he kept them at arm's length. Even when he returned home in '93 and '96, he continued avoiding them because he wasn’t the same Javi they once knew, and he didn’t want to see the looks on their faces when they realized how fucked up he’d become.

Now, he was having his second bachelor party seventeen years after the first, and he couldn’t be happier celebrating that he was getting married in a few days.

This time around, his dad planned the party, and there wasn’t any bar hopping or strip clubs. Instead, Chucho got Javier’s tíos (uncles) and male primos (cousins) together for an asada (barbecue) in his backyard.

It was close to midnight, and he knew the party wouldn’t end any time soon. His family were sitting in groups, taking up the picnic table, or sitting with him in lawn chairs around the large fire pit, which was currently ablaze, with the tall flames licking up toward the sky. He’d already eaten and was nursing his third beer over the many hours he’d been there, the bottle in his hand resting on his jean-clad thigh. The fire and his black leather jacket were keeping him warm while he listened to his friend Ken, sitting beside him talking about his four-year-old daughter’s recent T-ball game.

“—so she hits the ball off the tee,” he said, “and throws her bat as hard as she can behind her at the backstop—which, thank fuck they don’t have catchers—and starts runnin’ as fast as her little legs can go, only to stop halfway to first base to pick up the ball and chuck it with all her might out of bounds.”

Javier chuckled and sipped his drink—he couldn’t wait to tell these kinds of stories about his own children.

“Clever kid,” Benito replied, sitting on his other side. “How pissed off was Emily when she didn’t get to stay on first base?”

“You know Em, Benny. That little girl is more fiery than the hair on her head.” Her father had dark blonde hair, and she had bright red, yet both shared ocean-blue eyes.

A few months back, Javier felt like he was finally in a place where he could reconnect with his old friends. He’d gone out for drinks with Benito and Ken a few times to catch up, and they’d shown him pictures of their families; Ken had three daughters, and Emily was his youngest and the only one with red hair. He’d even introduced his wif-fiancée to them and took her to have dinner with them and their wives—it was nice.

He tried to reach out to Sal, but the other man was a part of the Special Forces in the army and had spent more time deployed than at home since Desert Storm—Benito and Ken said he was okay, or as okay as a guy can be after spending so many years in active duty. It made Javier feel like a real asshole for avoiding them for so long when they’d just wanted to be there for him like they were for Sal, who’d been through more dangerous and worse shit than him.

By no means were he and his old friends back to having the tight bond they shared when they were twenty-two or had anything close to his relationship with Steve—they’d grown too far apart and were virtually strangers now. That didn’t mean it wasn’t great to hang out with people who knew him before Lorraine and hadn’t taken her side or were judgemental of the choices he made.

“Big tantrum?” Benito asked.

“A complete meltdown. You’re gonna love havin’ kids, Jav.” Ken patted him on the shoulder.

“They have their moments,” Benito added, “pero, dios mio, mi vida no sería la misma sin ellos (but, my god, my life wouldn’t be the same without them). I love my little terrors.” He had five children; his littlest wasn’t even a year old.

“Yeah,” Javier said fondly. “I’m really fucking excited to have kids and get married.”

The other two men were smiling.

“And that’s how it always should’ve been,” Ken replied. “That’s how we know you’re marryin’ the right girl this time. It’s great to see how happy you are—and Benny and I can tell you’re actually happy.”

“Yeah,” Benito said, “‘Cause you’re smiling this time around and not crying—that stripper, though, what was her name? Diamond? Ruby? Shit, what was it?”

“Jade, maybe?” Ken answered. “You should remember, Benny, you’re the one she took home.”

“I can remember her amazing tits and ass, but couldn’t tell you what the hell she looked like or her name.”

Javier couldn’t remember what she looked like or her name either, which made him frown.

“Do you guys have that one woman you can remember every fucking detail about the first time you hooked up?” Benito asked. “She haunts you—I’m talking her face is burned in your brain, and you can remember everything like what she smelled like or how soft her skin was?”

“Yeah,” Ken said. “That girl, my third year in college.” He raised his beer bottle.

“The one who deepthroated you for the first time? You wouldn’t shut up about her.”

“That’s the one—too bad she wasn’t lookin’ for anythin’ serious. Best sex I’ve ever had; don’t tell my wife that.” Ken and Benito chuckled.

“Mine was Carmen’s roommate.” Carmen was Benito’s wife and someone they went to school with. “We had a casual thing before I started dating Carmen—her name was Valentina, and mi mamá would not have liked her, which was fine; she wasn’t wife material anyway.”

What did he mean by that?

“What about you, Javi?” Ken asked.

“I’m marrying mine,” he answered and took a drink of his beer.

Benito scoffed. “Are you just saying that shit, or do you mean it?”

He met the other man’s eyes.

“I’m being completely serious. She’s it, and I’m marrying her.”

Benito blew out air, shaking his head. “You lucky pendejo (asshole).”

“Now you gotta tell us what she’s like,” Ken said, and this conversation just took a turn in a direction he did not want to go in—even when he was younger, he didn’t like to brag about what went on in the bedroom.

Javier had never been happier for his cell phone to ring, but the feeling only lasted a moment as he pulled it off his belt before panic slammed into him that something was wrong because it was Cielito calling him. She was out having her bachelorette party with her girlfriends at the town bar.

“I gotta take this,” he said, setting his beer on the ground and groaning as he got up from his chair. He briskly walked out of earshot of everyone else.

His heart was pounding a mile a minute. He hit the accept button and answered when the Nokia phone was at his ear, “Hello?”

“Ohhh myyy god,” his wif-fiancée slurred on the other end. “How do you make ans’ring the phone sooo sexy?”

He let out a breath that she didn’t sound like she was in trouble.

“I don’t know—are you okay, baby?”

"Nooo, I miss you, and I wan’ you and I need you to come ge’ me—can you pleeease come ge’ me? I don' wanna be out anymore—I wanna be at home with you and naked in our bed; wait, have I told you how amazing you fuck? If there-was like an Olympics for fucking, you'd ge’ all the gold medals tha’s how good you are.” She inhaled before she continued speaking. “And your face, god, I miss your stupidly han’some face with your big baby cow eyes tha’ Daphne and Velma totally inherited from you, and tha’ gorgeous nose, and your lips—everything on tha’ mug of yours is perfec,’ and I canno’ believe you’re marrying me. Me?! How the fuck did I ge’ so lucky?! Like, you’re too pretty for me, and usu’lly, the pretty boys jus’ wan’ my family’s money—like fucking Daniel,” she fumed. “But you jus’ like me for me, and I’m sooo in love with you tha’ I canno’ stand bein’ so far away from you righ’ now. Javiii, can you pleeease come pick me up?"

Oh, she was drunk and missed him.

With how sloshed she sounded, it had him worried she hadn’t eaten much food or had enough water, and he wanted to go to her right that second to get her home and sober her up so she wasn’t too miserable the next day. He was trying to ignore what she said about her ex, but the more he learned about the guy, the higher the chances rose that he’d kick the fucker’s ass if they ever met.

"Are you sure you want to leave early?" he asked.

"Yesss, pleeease. I wanna go home wit’ you."

"Are you somewhere safe, cariño (sweetheart)?" It didn’t sound like she was inside the bar.

“I’m ou’side the backdoor where people smoke—Stacy and Arleta from the grocery store are ou’ here wit’ meee. Say hi to Javi!”

He could tell she held the phone toward them.

“Hi, Javi,” he heard the two women say. “Are you coming to ge’ me?” Cielito asked.

“Yes, mi amor. I just need to tell everyone bye—don’t hang up.”

He didn't as he quickly walked over to say goodbye and thank his dad, friends, and family for the lovely night, telling them his fiancée wasn't feeling good and he needed to go pick her up—the plan had always been he’d be her designated driver since he hadn’t wanted to drink too much; the rest of the people at her party had their own rides.

His long legs had him striding toward where his pickup was parked.

“Did you have a good time?” he asked her.

His truck door squealed as he opened it and got inside.

“Yesss! There was karaoke and I had a lot of tequila. Like a lot. Like sooo much, I sang “My Heart Will Go On” from Titanic withou’ anyone daring me to—tha’ movie is sooo fucking sad. If we were in the freezing water and you pu’ me on a door or whatever piece of wood, you beh your ass I’m gonna figure ou’ a way to ge’ you on it with me. I’m not gonna be a fucking liar and say I won’ leggo and fucking leggo! You’re gonna be like nex’ to me, or hell, you could ge’ on top of me, and we’d survive—I’d make sure we both survived.”

She made him smile because this wasn’t the first time she’d gone on this rant.

He was already on the road heading toward town.

“I’d make sure we survived, too, baby. I’d use my body heat to keep you warm.”

“Why is tha’ sooo romantic? Honestly, I think you’d figure ou’ a way to ge’ us into one of the lifeboats.”

“Probably.” He shrugged.

“And then we’d ge’ to Amer’ca and start our new life together and have sooo many babies.”

He was still smiling. “Yeah—so many babies?”

“It was ye olden times when the only thing women could do was take care of their husbands and babies, plus there was basic’ly no birth control and you only cream pie, sooo yeah, we’d hav’ a ridic’lous amoun’ of babies.”

“I wanna have a ridiculous amount of babies with you now.”

“God, I know you do, and I wanna have all your babies, all of them, ‘cause you’re gonna be the bes’ dad. Like, the bes’, and our kids will be sooo lucky to have you, and they’re gonna love you sooo much and be so cute—I hope they look like you—you were sush a cutie, and I’d love to have a bunch of mini yous.”

“I want them to look like the both of us.”

“Meh, you’re cuter.”

“Stop that, you’re fucking adorable, and I’d love if our kids looked like you.”

“Fine.”

“Why’d you drink so much tequila, mi amor? That stuff makes us—”

“Horny?” she finished for him. “Our clothes magic’ly disappear.” Her speech was still slurring. “Robyn got us Tequila Sunrises, then Cat—” That was the wife of one of her coworkers at the hospital; they hung out with the couple occasionally. “—got us another round of them, bu’ Alma—” His prima (cousin) and sister of Sebastián. “—got us all tequila shots, and I also got us tequila shots, and I think there was another round—too much tequila, whish is why I called you to pick me up.”

His mouth turned down in a frown.

“Please tell me you had some food, too, and water.”

“Yesss, I knew you’d worry, so I ate a plate of fries and shared mozz-mozzarella.” She giggled. “Tha’s a fun word to say—I shared mozzarella sticks with the girls, and I drank water—had a glass aft’r ev’ry drink ‘cause I was-like, ‘If my Javi were here righ’ now, he’d wan’ me staying hydrated,’ and I couldn’ le’ you down.”

He smiled. “Thank you, baby. I’m proud of you.”

There was someone in the background who sounded just as drunk as her, asking her, “Wha’ are you doin’ out here?” It was Robyn.

“Calling Javi,” Cielito answered.

“Come back inside. You said you were goin’ pee.”

“I wen’ and Javi’s comin’ to pick me up. I’m waitin’ for him to ge’ here.”

“Girl, it’s barely pas’ midnigh’, and your bachelorette party! Leave the man alone and have fun with us! We’ll get pie after here at the diner.” It was open twenty-four hours.

“I need him,” she whined.

“Oh my god, you’re ditchin’ us for dick!”

“It’s really good dick, and I need it!”

“Mi amor?” Javi said to get her attention.

“Yes?” she answered.

“I’m not gonna fool around with you while you’re fucked up…”

“I know,” she whispered. “Don’ tell anyone, bu’ I’m too drunk, and I hate it. I wanna go home.”

“Okay, cariño (sweetheart). I’ll be there soon to pick you up.”

Another voice was heard on her end. “Why are you guys ou’ here?” He was pretty sure it was his prima, Alma.

“She’s ditchin’ us for dick!” Robyn exclaimed.

“I told you it’s really good dick!” Cielito said just as loud.

“Gross!” Alma was slurring her words, too, and sounded disgusted. “You’re gonna-make-me puke!”

“Sorry, Alma,” the other two women replied in unison.

“It’s okay,” Alma said. “You’re leaving already? I don’ wan’ you to go. We’re having so mush fun!”

“Yeah, don’ go!” He thought that was Cat. “This is the only night I can go ou’ alone this month! Le’s keep partying!”

“I’m sorry, guys,” Cielito responded. “Tequila was a mistake, and I need to go home.”

Javier figured she’d forgotten he was on the phone with her.

“I’m horny, too,” Robyn said, “bu’ you don’ see me booty callin’ my boyfriend to ge’ me, and he’s got really good dick, too!”

“¡Guácala (Gross)!” Alma interjected. “No sé por qué salgo contigo (I don’t know why I hang out with you).”

“Because we’re fun!” Robyn said. “Don’ lie, you loved it when I got our bride-to-be to rap “Shoop” with me.” Javier only knew that Salt-N-Pepa song because he’d heard his bride-to-be rap it on many occasions—she was really good, to be honest.

“You are fun, bu’ who wan’s to hear about their brother and cousin’s sex lives?”

“Sorry, Alma,” Robyn and Cielito said again.

“You all can still have fun withou’ me!” his wif-fiancée told them.

“A bachelorette party withou’ a bachelorette?” Robyn asked.

“I think that jus’ makes it a girls' night out—yeah, you can have a girls' night out! Fuck, where’s Javi? Did I tell you guys he’s comin’ to ge’ me? Wait, my phone! Javi, are you still there?”

“Yes, baby, I’m still here.”

“Where are you?”

“Maybe ten minutes away.”

“Ugh, okay.” She whispered the next bit loudly, “Robyn’s mad at me.”

“Damn straigh,’ I’m mad at you!” Robyn said. “It’s your bachelorette party, and you’re abandonin’ us for a man!”

“But he’s like a really grea’ man, and wonderful, and han’some, and the bes’, and I love him so, so, so, sooo, mush and wanna have his babies. So, I’m not abandonin’ you for ‘a man,’ I’m abandonin’ you for the greates’ man alive, and you can’ be mad at me for tha’.”

What she said had Javier grinning.

“Y’all are too disgustingly in love, but wha’ever, nex’ girls' night, no fuckin’ tequila.”

She forgot he was on the phone with her again and listened to their drunken discussion about what they should do for a girls' night, going off topic a few times. Her friends stayed with her until he arrived.

He pulled into the parking lot and stopped at the back of the building where he saw the group of women and some other bar patrons hanging out by the door, the area lit by two lights on the building.

“Cielito?” he said, hoping it’d get her attention. “Are you still there?”

“Oh my god, Javi!” Came her exclamation. “Where are you?!”

The truck was put into park, and he kept it idling as he got out.

“To your left.”

Her head turned to the right, making him snort with a smile on his lips.

“Your other left, mi amor,” he said. He’d walked around to open the passenger door, and her gaze finally landed on him under the orangeish glow of a towering street light.

“He’s here!” she squealed, and he ended the call, putting his phone back on his belt. He watched her shove her own in her purse before she hugged all of her friends goodbye.

Javier had seen the dress she was going to wear tonight; he just hadn’t seen her wearing it. When she turned his way and he got a good look at her, his mouth fell open, and he thought his heart would beat out of his chest like a cartoon character in love.

The champagne-colored mini dress was long-sleeved and covered in sequins, the neckline plunging to accentuate her breasts, the skirt ending just a little above her knees, a white sash across her chest reading in fancy black script, ‘Bride-to-Be,’ and she looked fucking stunning.

His awe ended when he suddenly had to act fast and catch the woman he loved who flung herself into his arms—he grunted at her body slamming into him, her lips crashing into his, wrapping his arms around her back to feel her skin from the deep V down her back.

The smell of booze hit him almost as hard as she did, along with the undertones of her perfume, Javier tensing when she grabbed his ass. With how she was hitching her leg up on his waist, he thought she was trying to climb him like a goddamn tree.

“Mmm… hi, baby,” his muffled voice said.

His hand went to her face, his thumb under her chin, and fingers splayed along her cheek as he gently pushed to separate her mouth from his. Her eyelids were closed, and her lips pursed.

“Hi, baby,” he said again. “Did you miss me?”

She smiled. “Yesss.” Her glassy, bloodshot eyes blinked open, and it was obvious she was utterly blitzed; there was no way in hell she could pass a field sobriety test. “God, you’re sooo gorgeous—look at your cute nose—” She poked the tip of it. “—boop. Your eyes are sooo pretty, and you smell sooo good—you always smell so fucking good. I love you so, sooo much.” She pecked him on the lips. “I’m sooo happy you’re here.”

She looked so cute and it had him smiling.

“Yeah?” He shrugged off his jacket and put it over her shoulders.

“Mmm, tha’s nice and warm. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Cielito. You ready to go?”

“Oh my god, yesss!”

“Okay, let’s get you into the truck, hermosa (beautiful).”

He helped her get up into the cab, closing the door behind her. Seconds later, he was in the driver’s seat, with her pressed right against him.

“I’m sooo happy we’re going home,” she said, hugging his arm closest to her.

“I’m happy we’re going home, too, Cielito—let’s get you buckled.”

He leaned over her to grab the seatbelt, getting it over her lap and buckling it in, ensuring it wasn’t loose, before getting his own belt on.

The short drive to their apartment had her in his space, kissing his cheek and neck while telling him how much she loved him, and it was so sweet that warmth spread through his body.

When they arrived, Javier had to keep her steady as they walked with an arm around her waist, making her lean into him. Once inside, he propped her against the front door to remove his coat from her shoulders and her sash, hanging them with the other jackets on the wall. Then, he pulled her purse from her arm, putting it on the console table, and he helped her remove the flats on her feet, kicking off his shoes afterward.

Her eyes were closed most of the time while she mumbled, a lot of it he didn’t understand, but what he did make out was her confessing her love for him and waxing poetic about how attractive she found him—it was adorable.

He wanted to get her sober, so he helped steady her as they made their way to the kitchen, moving past the counters and appliances to the small connected dining room and having her sit in a kitchen chair, pushing her close to the table in order to keep her from falling onto the floor.

Javier’s palm rubbed circles into her back. “Cielito?”

Her head tilted up in his direction, looking at him with red, glossy eyes and a big, dreamy smile.

“You’re pretty.” Her speech wasn’t slurring as much. “And you’re marrying me. I can’t believe you’re marrying me. We should blow this popsicle stand and go back to our place to have premarital sex—gotta do as much of that as we can before we’re married and our sexy times become legal.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “What do you mean by the sex becoming legal?” he asked.

“You know, sex is only legal to God when the couple is married—we won’t be living in sin anymore; gosh, that’s gonna make your dad sooo happy. I love your dad. He’s the fucking best. Let's make him your mom’s flan next weekend ‘cause that dude deserves it—man, I’m hungry.”

“We’ll make him flan, baby.” His hand cupped her cheek. “Can I make you some buttered toast?” That seemed like a safe choice and shouldn’t make her sick.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh my god, toast sounds fucking amazing!”

He smiled. “Okay, mi amor. I’ll make you some.”

Javier bent to kiss the top of her head before padding into the kitchen.

Making her two slices of toast and having her eat them, along with drinking a large glass of water, didn’t take too long—there were a few times he had to remind her about the bread because she was so chatty; at one point she went on an entertaining tangent about how those mythical half horse, half human creatures, centaurs, would wear pants, and even made him tear off a page from the notepad on the fridge, so she could draw him visuals on why the correct answer was the pants would go on the back part of their horse body.

Jesus Christ, he was so fucking in love with her.

He felt better after she finished her snack and drink with how her speech sounded clearer and that she didn’t seem as fucked up as when she called him from the bar—she was definitely still a little drunk since she couldn’t walk without stumbling, and her eyes were having a hard time staying open.

His next priority was making her comfortable. He led her to the bedroom, where he carefully replaced her dress and bra with his olive green t-shirt, leaving her in the shirt and her cute cotton panties she already had on that were covered in red hearts.

He took her to the bathroom, where he sat her up on the countertop and stood between her legs to keep her in place.

“Cielito,” he said, grabbing a wet wipe, “I’m gonna clean off your makeup, okay?”

There was a big smile on her face, her eyelids shut. “Mmmkay, you’re sooo nice.”

He pressed it to her face to begin removing her makeup. When that was done, he used a warm washcloth to dampen the skin he’d cleaned and grabbed her face wash off the counter, which was amongst her other skincare products. He used his fingertips to apply it to her skin, starting with her cheeks, then down her jaw to her chin, and back up to spread it along her nose before doing her forehead last.

He used the wet cloth to wipe away the cleanser when she spoke.

“Did you just wash my face?” she asked.

“Yeah?” He’d finished, and her skin was finally completely clean and looking dewy. Her face wash was put away, and his eyes squinted as he read the labels of the other products until he found what he needed and picked it up. He’d seen her do her skincare routine more times than he could count and had the basics down; the serums and special creams intimidated him, though.

His fingers were massaging the moisturizer into her skin along the same path they’d taken with the cleanser.

“Is that moisturizer?”

“Yes.”

Her breath stuttered, her mouth turning into a frown, and he matched her look.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, leaning toward the sink when he was done to wash his hands. He then dried them with the towel on his other side hanging on the wall.

Her bottom lip was trembling, and it worried him.

“You love me,” she whispered.

“I do,” he said and kissed her forehead. “I love you so fucking much.” His hands rubbed over her bare thighs.

She opened her eyes, and they were welling up, glistening under the lights above.

“You love me,” she repeated.

He held her cheeks. “Yes, sweetheart, I love you—I love you more than anything.”

Her voice was so small. “Why doesn’t my family love me?” With tears rolling down her face, her question shattered his heart into a million pieces.

“Oh, Cielito, baby.” His tone was soft, and he wrapped her up in his arms, hugging her tight, her face going into the crook of his neck. “They’re assholes and they don’t deserve you.”

Her body started shaking with sobs, and it had his chest squeezing tight, his eyes getting watery, wishing with every cell of his being to make her feel better.

She was the strongest and bravest woman he knew, who didn’t like to show any sign of weakness, and ever since her parents’ unexpected and unwanted visit earlier in the week, she had acted like she was fine in an attempt to hide her sadness.

The day after he was offered a large sum of money to leave her, they’d gone over to his father’s to use the fax machine in his office—the office was in its own little building across the driveway from his house—and she faxed Jerry, her parents’ lawyer, a typed letter that conveyed her disappointment in how they acted and also told them to never contact her again which she signed at the bottom. She changed her home and cell phone numbers and discussed with him possibly moving to the ranch earlier than they originally planned.

He’d tried to talk to her about everything, but she’d put on this smile he knew wasn’t genuine by the lack of its usual luster, and she was unable to keep the sorrow from showing in her eyes—it killed him how her usual happy glow had dimmed from her hurt. She’d reassure him she was okay, reminding him that her family made their choice and had to live with the consequences of it, but she also had to live with the consequences of their actions and deal with the emotions of never seeing or speaking to her loved ones again. He was expecting the façade to break at some point, and it took inebriation to cause her carefully crafted walls to finally crumble.

To add salt to their wounds, Javier was served at work the following day after the fax was sent, with a lawsuit for breach of contract from her mom and dad.

What were they trying to sue him for? Going against his word to not tell their daughter about their visit and proposition, thus breaching a verbal contract that was made. He’d laughed as he called Chucho’s attorney because they never fucking agreed with his terms and, instead, had countered with the damn prenup. They didn’t have a fucking case, and it was dropped by the next day.

Javier was so unbelievably pissed off at these people for what they’d done to the woman he loved that he knew there was no way in hell he’d ever be able to have a civil conversation with them again. It was possible it’d turn into a physical altercation, and he’d end up in jail, which he honestly thought would be worth it if he got the chance to punch her dad in his stupid fucking face.

“They’re my family,” she choked out, “they’re supposed to love me—why don’t they love me? Why am I so unlovable?”

“Mi amor, you’re not unlovable—I love you, Pop loves you, my tías (aunts), tíos (uncles), and primos (cousins) love you, Robyn loves you, mi mamá loves you—you’re loved. We love you, baby. Those people you’re related to are shitty and so blinded by their obsession with money and how they’re perceived that they wouldn’t know what unconditional love was if it bit them in the ass. They’re horrible fucking people, and you don’t need them, Cielito. You don’t.”

“But they’re my family!” she cried. Her tears were soaking through his shirt. “It doesn’t feel right that they aren’t going to be at our wedding, and it hurts so fucking much that they don’t support us!”

He kissed her hair, rubbing circles on her back with his palm. “I know, cariño (sweetheart). I know you’re hurt and that it’s fucked they won’t be there.” It was hard for him to swallow around the lump that’d formed, his eyes burning, and he squeezed them shut. “I’m sorry you fell in love with me and that I’m not good enough for them or good enough for you. I’m sorry for causing all this shit and the pain you’re feeling. I’m sorry, baby—it’s all my fault,” his voice cracked on the last word. He had to clear his throat. “But I’d do it all again because you deserve to be loved—you deserve all the fucking love in the world. Your family is supposed to love you because they’re your family, and our kids will love you no matter what because you’re their amazing mom, but me? I’m choosing to love you with every fucking thing I have because you’re incredible and so lovable.” His cheeks were wet from his own tears. “I love you, Cielito—I promise I’ll love you enough to make up for them. I promise I’ll love you so much you’ll get sick of me. I love you, Cielito. You’re my everything, and I hope my love’s enough…”

She sniffled loudly, her head rising, and he opened his eyes to meet her reddened ones, her face streaked with wetness.

Her voice was hoarse. “It’s not your fault,” she said, her hands in the small space between their bodies, clutching his button-up shirt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, and you’re enough—you’ve always been enough. It just hurts how hateful the people who are supposed to want me to be happy are toward what makes me happy.” More tears fell down her cheeks. “You’re what makes me happy, and they don’t accept you.” Her lower lip was wobbling. “I’m mad and sad, and I don’t want them to be a part of our lives, but it feels… it feels like they’ve died,” she said quietly. “It feels weird grieving over people who are still breathing, who are just a phone call or a plane ride away. I’m grieving them like they’re dead—are they dead to me? Why am I grieving what little relationship we had, yet also grieving the relationship we could’ve had? One where they welcomed you with open arms, and even if it wasn’t your favorite thing to do, we visited them once a year—you’d joke around with my brother, we’d fawn over his many children, and my parents would actually be impressed with what you did in Colombia and brag to their friends about their son-in-law who helped take down Pablo fucking Escobar and did take out the Cali cartel. Why am I so fucking sad about living people and a fantasy?”

He stroked his fingers along her cheek to cup it. “I don’t remember much from my mother’s funeral ‘cause my head was pretty fucked up, but there was something the Priest said that stuck with me. ‘Grief is just all the love you had for someone that suddenly has nowhere to go.’ So, it collects inside you, makes your chest ache, and leaks from your eyes—it fills all the places that were left empty by their loss. I’ll always feel my mom here—” He put a hand over his heart. “—but over time, a lot of my grief slowly disappeared, and you’ve made it easier to live with what’s left.” He took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is I don’t think what you’re feeling is weird. They might be alive, but you lost the only family you’ve ever known and are grieving the death of your relationship with them—now there’s all that love you still have for them that has no place to go, so it’s filling the emptiness they left behind, and it’s gonna take some time to heal.” He held her face in both of his hands. “It’s okay that you're sad, Cielito, but you don’t need to hide it from me or pretend that you’re okay because I know you’re not, and I don’t want you going through this alone. I’ll be your shoulder to cry on; I’ll hold you or talk things out with you. I’ll do whatever you need me to do to help ease your pain. Just please don’t shut me out.”

She was frowning, her eyes darting away as she spoke softly, “I knew if you saw I was upset, it’d make you sad, and I didn’t wanna make you sad so close to our wedding—this should be a happy time for us, but all I wanna do is lay in the dark and cry.”

“Baby?” His finger went under her chin to make her look at him, their gazes meeting. “Don’t worry about my feelings, and let me be there for you—I’d rather be sad with you than have you suffer alone in silence. Now, let me get you to bed so I can hold you while you cry.”

Her smile was small, and her eyes were glossy with tears. “I’d like that.” Suddenly, she looked panicked, her hand going to her mouth. “Move,” said her muffled voice. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“Shit.” He immediately helped her off the counter, for her to stumble the handful of steps and drop to her knees in front of the toilet, where she did, in fact, get sick.

It took a lot to gross out Javier—he grew up on a ranch, where he witnessed animal births and deaths regularly. Combine that with the horrible things he’d seen in Colombia, someone throwing up was a welcome change.

“Oh, mi probecita (my poor thing),” he said, spinning around to the wall opposite the bathroom vanity to get a small rag from the linen closet before moving back to the sink to wet it with cold water. “Déjame cuidarte, Cielito (Let me take care of you, Cielito). Sé que no te gusta enfermarte (I know you don’t like getting sick).”

She’d told him that when she had a little too much fun at a party playing drinking games with his primos (cousins) and found herself on his old bathroom floor, hugging porcelain with Javier there for support—they’d ended up being too drunk to drive home and spent the night in his childhood bed.

He wrung out the washcloth and walked over to her, a grunt leaving him and knees popping as he lowered himself to kneel next to her. He pressed the cloth to the back of her neck with one hand while the other rubbed comforting circles over her spine.

His tone was warm and gentle. “Get it all out, baby. I know it’s awful, and you hate it, but it’ll make you feel better.”

It didn’t take long for her stomach to empty and her heaving to stop. Her breaths were coming out ragged, and Javier took care of flushing the toilet. He scooted back and pulled her with him, the tiled floor cool underneath them, until he had room to stretch out his legs in front of him while she sat between them with her spine to his chest, her eyes closed.

He held the wet cloth to her forehead, the fingers of his free hand laced with hers, and kissed her hair.

“How are you feeling?” he whispered.

“I’m never drinking again,” she mumbled.

He huffed amusedly and smiled, placing a kiss behind her ear.

“Liar,” he said. “You said that last time you drank too much.”

“I mean it this time.”

“Uh-huh, right.”

“I do—this is embarrassing.”

“I think it’s good practice.”

He knew the look on her face was one of confusion without seeing it. “Practice for what?”

“If you get morning sickness.” He kissed the side of her neck.

“Oh, god,” she whined. “Why can’t we be seahorses?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Seahorses?”

“Yeah, male seahorses do the whole pregnancy and birth thing—that’s the fucking dream.”

He thought about it for a second, taking into account how badly he wanted kids, and it was really fucking weird to say this out loud, “If I could… I’d, uh, do that for us…”

He could hear her smiling. “You’d have my babies?”

Javier inhaled deeply and slowly let it out. “...yes.”

“I know the scenario is weirding you out, and it’s sweet of you to say you would, but I’m not sure if, given the opportunity, you’d actually do it—which is fine. Pregnancy and childbirth are scary, and it just proves that mothers are more badass than fathers.”

“You’re definitely more badass than me.”

“I appreciate you saying that, man who literally hunted bad guys for a living and had a bounty on his head.”

“You are, and since you’re taking the brunt of everything for us to have a kid, I promise I’ll do whatever possible, so all you’ll have to worry about is growing our baby and working.” She’d made it clear that when she got pregnant, she was still going to work until either the baby was born or the Doctor told her to stop.

“You know, I think we’re gonna crush being married and becoming parents.”

He smiled. “We are because we’re equals, even if you’re more badass than me.”

“We are equals, and thank you for acknowledging my badassery, man who helped eliminate two of the biggest cartels in the world.”

He snorted. “Smartass. How are you feeling?”

“A little drunk, sad, and I’ve got the spins.”

“Do you still feel sick?”

“Not really—just dizzy.”

“Do you want me to help you brush your teeth and then get you comfortable in bed?”

“That actually sounds wonderful because my mouth feels icky, and I’d like to cuddle.”

“Okay, mi amor.”

He started to move, but she stopped him with her hand on his arm as she said, “Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“You’re worth it.”

“Worth what…?”

“The pain and sadness over my family. You bring me so much love and happiness that I know it’ll outshine the hurt in no time, and this low I’m in is only temporary. You’re worth it and more than enough—your love is all I need. I love you.”

His throat was feeling tight, and he spoke softly. “I love you, too.” His arms went around her middle, and he didn’t squeeze as he hugged her to not hurt her stomach. He still wanted to hold her, his chin resting on her shoulder and their heads touching. “I’m happy I’m worth it to you, and just know that I’m yours; I’m here for you—good, bad, it doesn’t fucking matter because I’m not going anywhere, and we’ll get through anything together.” His lips pressed to her hair. “I tell you I love you a lot, but I hope you understand that I love you more than words can accurately describe—I love you, Cielito. I love you, and I promise I’ll be yours forever.”

Her hand came up behind her to press her fingers into his hair. “Yeah, we’re gonna crush being husband and wife.”

She made him smile. “Less than seventy-two hours, Mrs. Peña.”

“And I can’t fucking wait, Mr. Peña.”

The town of Laredo was buzzing with the news Javier Peña was getting married—yes, the same Javier Peña who left his first bride at the altar, had tumbled in the hay with many of the girls he’d gone to school with, and was apparently some kind of lothario in South America.

It really bothered you how fucking interested and judgmental the townspeople were of his sex life.

Your wedding with him was all anyone could talk about, and the bar was even taking bets on whether or not he’d disappear again, which was fucked up, but Chucho gladly put five hundred dollars on his son marrying you because he knew it was easy money. There was so much interest in how things would turn out that people you either barely knew or had never met approached you both like they were old friends of Javi’s to try and get invites—they were politely rejected with the excuse there wasn’t enough room.

According to Robyn, your wedding had the same amount of hype as your fiancé’s first, and though Javi hated that, you really hoped it annoyed the fuck out of his ex.

When you discussed how you wanted to tie the knot, your husband-to-be agreed the ceremony should be attended by a select few, and afterward, there’d be a big party to celebrate with the rest of your friends and family. Once the date was decided, the planning started immediately since there was so little time.

Chucho and his sisters would make a killing as wedding planners. They sat you and Javi down to get an idea of what you wanted the party to be like, a color scheme, and a budget, then told you guys not to worry and that they’d take care of everything. All the two of you had to do was approve things, hand over cash, and get your rings, which wasn’t too much of a hassle since you wanted simple matching gold bands.

Something you loved about the family you were marrying into was how they were all there for each other and so tight-knit—your fiancé's dad and tías managed to get all that was needed in less than a month with the help of his primos, and by calling in favors from their friends.

Javier and you didn't want anything extravagant. The party would occur in Chucho's backyard, under a giant white pole tent. Tables, chairs, and a dance floor had to be rented, and it was highway robbery how much the local place wanted to charge—Lorraine’s family frequently used them for their events, and you wouldn’t put it past her father to be the cause of such an exorbitant price just to spite Javi for wasting the absurd amount of money he spent on Lorraine’s first wedding. Luckily, on such short notice, tía Lupita’s oldest son, Matías, had a friend who knew a guy an hour away in Zapata who ran a party rental store and could get them everything at a reasonable price.

The tías, along with their daughters/daughters in law were handling food; Anna, who was friends with Javi in high school, had a bakery and was taking care of making the cake and Mexican wedding cookies that were tiny, buttery, ball-shaped, melt-in-your-mouth, powdered sugar-covered cookies, dotted with crushed nuts like pecans, walnuts, and almonds, and traditionally served at weddings and Christmas; tío Ángel and tía María’s husband were in charge of getting alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages, and Ángel’s youngest son Diego was going to DJ, as it was his side hustle and he’d been paid to do gigs at other parties in town and in a couple of big city clubs.

An hour and a half before you were to be wed, practically every family member of Javi's who lived locally was at the ranch. Many had been there all day setting up the backyard or in the kitchen making food, and every time you tried to help cook, you were shooed away, but your presence was wanted outside to instruct those putting things together on how to arrange and decorate everything inside and out of the tent, and that ended up being what you did until it was time to start getting ready.

Most of Javier’s family and you were there, yet your groom was nowhere to be found and hadn’t set foot on the property in a good sixteen hours.

In that time, you hadn’t seen or talked to him either, and your last interaction was the previous night when he dropped you off at his dad’s—that’s where you spent the night, and thank goodness, Chucho had already gone to sleep when Javi helped you get settled in his old room, because he had a hard time leaving and it led to him fucking you slow and passionately in his ridiculously squeaky bed one last time.

Why were you staying at the ranch? The two of you, encouraged by Javi’s dad, made the decision not to see each other on the day of your nuptials. Since your almost father-in-law would be driving you to where the ceremony was taking place, it made sense for you to sleepover and get ready at his house—the moment Javi left you there in his room that smelled like him, under his sheets that smelled like him, in one of his white t-shirts that smelled like him, you realized it was going to be really difficult and a test of your strength to be away from him for so long, and you both knew, if you spoke even a single word over the phone, the resolve between you would shatter, and he’d be back at Chucho’s for you in record time.

That led to the lack of communication and him getting ready alone at your shared apartment.

You were sitting in a kitchen chair you’d brought into Javi’s old bathroom, wearing a white satin robe cinched tight over your clean body, fresh from the shower and the special undergarments you'd chosen for the big day. Robyn was in front of you in her matching black robe as she did your makeup, something she offered to do and you happily accepted due to how good she was at it. She'd already smoothed out your complexion and hid any imperfections; currently, she was working on your eye shadow.

"Between you and Javi," she said, her attention focused on what she was doing, "your kids are gonna have some pretty eyes."

You smiled. "I think his eyes are prettier, and just imagine tiny versions of them; they'll give me the sad puppy dog eyes, and I'll have no choice but to give them whatever they want."

She giggled. "Your babies will be spoiled."

"I have already accepted that fact—hopefully, they'll take after their dad and be spoiled, but sweet, caring, and well-behaved, and not some little assholes." You frowned. "My brother was a spoiled asshole."

She paused what she was doing to meet your eyes. "Hey, now, we agreed not to think or speak about those people today. We aren't lettin' them sour the best day of your life so far."

"I know," you sighed.

It was the right choice to sever your ties with your family, and you had no regrets; that didn't mean it wasn't hard or hurt any less. Especially today, with it being your wedding day—your mom wasn’t there to help you get ready, nor your dad for a father-daughter dance. They should’ve been there supporting you on the happiest day of your life. Instead, they destroyed whatever relationship you had with them, and it hurt a lot. Even suspecting for years that they had no love for you didn't ease much of the pain of discovering it was true. You felt stupid for caring about these people when they cared so little for you, and you weren't sure why you hadn't cut them out sooner. Was it naively thinking they'd change? Or the ingrained notion that even if you didn't like them, you had to suck it up because they were your family?

It didn't matter now because what they'd done and how they treated the man you loved was unforgivable. There was no chance in hell you’d ever trust them again, and you didn’t want the new life you were starting with Javi to be tainted by their toxicity.

Robyn's cell phone was sitting on the bathroom counter next to your open makeup bag, and it started ringing—nobody wanted to bother you while you got ready, so Robyn was made the point of contact to either deal with what was going on or talk it out with you.

She straightened and turned around to pick it up.

"Why's he callin’?" she mumbled, hitting the accept button and putting the phone to her ear. "What's shakin' bacon? Robyn speakin,’" she answered. "...yes," she told them, "I'm doin' her makeup right now... No... No, you can't... Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? No one is supposed to see her before the wedding... You're a fuckin' liar, and Chucho wouldn’t let you in here anyway... You're ridiculous," she said in exasperation. "But if you swear, on your mama's grave, you won't peek, then I'll allow it... Okay, fine. Give us a sec, then quietly knock—I don't want anyone knowin' you’re here... bye."

She set the phone down and the eyeshadow palette, spinning on her heel to face you and grab your hand.

"Was that who I think it was?" you asked.

She was smiling. "If you’re thinkin’ someone annoyin’ who could get me in more trouble than an armadillo on the highway with your father-in-law, yes—come with me."

Robyn tugged you up to stand and led you into the bedroom, where you both came to a stop.

There were two large windows on the opposite wall beside each side of the bed, sitting half a foot above the floor with closed blinds and red curtains over them. A soft knocking sounded on the one in front of you. You followed Robyn and watched her push apart the curtains, pulling on the string to raise the blinds. Her body blocked your view as she unlocked the window and shoved it up.

"How many fingers am I holdin' up?" she asked the person outside.

"I don't know," Javi answered. "I can't see shit with this thing on."

The sound of his voice had your heart beating faster.

"Good," Robyn said, moving out of your way to look at you.

With the window's position, you could only see your fiancé from the thighs up, wearing black tuxedo pants and a white long-sleeved dress shirt tucked into them. Your sleep mask covered his eyes, and there was a loose regular tie and bow tie around his neck that matched the color of his slacks, the ends of each resting over both sides of his chest. Aside from his perfectly trimmed mustache, his face was freshly shaved, and he looked unbelievably handsome as always.

"This annoyin' man—" Robyn pointed at him with her thumb. "—says it's an emergency—he needs you to tell him how you want his hair done and which tie you’d like."

It made you smile because his hair was already how you wanted it—you had given him a haircut a couple of days ago, so the sides looked nice and clean cut down, and he combed the longer top and bangs to swoop over to the other side of his head, holding it all in place with his favorite pomade, that kept his hair soft.

He also knew damn well which tie you’d chosen.

It had you feeling gooey that he couldn't wait any longer to see you.

You walked toward him, and Robyn made herself scarce by disappearing into the bathroom. At the window, you got down on your knees to make it easier to talk to him, Javier still standing above you with his height.

"An emergency, huh?" you asked, and he smiled. Taking his outstretched hand, you guided him closer.

“Are we alone?" he countered

His palms began mapping your body, sliding over your arms and shoulders and along your neck up to your head, where he avoided your face but carefully felt your ears and hair.

"Yep."

“You feel beautiful.”

Air huffed from your nose in amusement. “Well, you look handsome, even without being fully dressed.” You rubbed your hands up his thighs to rest them on his tiny hips. “Your hair looks perfect,” you continued. “Did you really forget which tie I wanted?”

He smirked. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “It was the only way I knew I could get Robyn to betray Pop’s orders and let me see you; well, talk to you.”

Your eyebrows creased. “Orders? What orders?”

“He might’ve made it sound like a suggestion, the whole us not seeing each other today, but Pop is super fucking superstitious like mi mamá was—he doesn’t think he is—believe me, he is, and it made him feel better we agreed to do it. So, he has everyone out here on strict orders to keep us apart, including Robyn. One of my tíos is sitting at the end of the kitchen table right now so he can watch the front and back door; another is on the living room couch to stay close to my room in case he’s gotta intercept me. You’re being guarded like a fucking high-security witness with a hit out on them. I had to park my truck down the road and have Seb hide me in the trunk of his Bronco to get here without anyone seeing.”

“That is insane.”

He sighed. “At least Pop kinda gave us a choice; my mom wouldn’t have. She wouldn’t have let us take any risk of getting bad luck because I saw you.”

“It’s sweet and extremely intense.”

“Yeah, and I can’t see you, so we’re good.”

You smiled. “Gotta love loopholes.”

He was smiling, too. “Yeah. I missed you so much. I just needed to touch you and talk to you.” He grabbed your hands off his waist, stroking his thumbs over the back of them. “I couldn’t sleep last night without you—even when I tried sleeping on your side.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep either, and I missed you, too. I’m happy you’re here so we can talk. I’ve got butterflies in my tummy, and I can’t tell if they’re nerves or excitement.”

“Maybe both?”

“Could be. Don’t know what I have to be nervous about.”

“I’m nervous about having to say my sappy bullshit in front of other people and have it recorded.”

“That’s actually a good point—if we leave now, we can make it to the courthouse before it closes and skip all of that.”

He huffed out a breath. “It’s too late for that, mi amor. Pop’s excited about being a part of the ceremony and getting to walk you to me.”

There wouldn’t be an aisle per se, just a small trail of rose petals leading you to where Javi would be standing in front of the tree. Chucho cried happy tears when you asked him to give you away.

When your soon-to-be father-in-law heard about your parents' impromptu visit, you’d never seen him so angry—his face had gone red, and he went off in Spanish about what terrible people they were. He was so mad he repeatedly tried to get you to give him their phone number so he could tell them himself how lowly he thought of them and that they were awful parents; he wanted them to know that their loss was his gain and you were his daughter now; you would finally be loved and cherished by a proud parent and that it was God’s will you came into his and his son’s lives. He also needed them to be aware that their pride and greed had turned them villainous, and he’d be praying that they someday realized the error of their ways and saw you for the blessing you were.

His anger toward those who wronged you was fueled by a protective father’s love for their child, and it made you incredibly emotional that after so many years without one, you had a parent who loved you unconditionally, wanted nothing more than your happiness, and would selflessly fight battles for you.

Chucho was the best dad you’d ever had, and you were happy that in less than two hours, you’d share a last name with him, too.

“Ugh, you’re right,” you said, “Pop deserves his moment. Hey, babe?”

“Yes, mi amor?”

“When you’re saying your sappy bullshit, focus on me. It'll just be the two of us in that moment, no one else, and believe me when I say all of my tears will be happy.”

His smile was brighter than the sun. He lifted your hand to kiss each of your knuckles, saying when he finished. “All of my tears will be happy, too, and you do the same thing—it’s just us, nobody else. Will you, uh, tie my bow tie?”

His question had you smiling. “I’d love to.”

He pulled off the regular tie and stuffed it into his pocket, bending his knees and crouching with a grunt to put his neck within reach. You took the ends of the bow tie, your attention focused on what you were doing.

"This is why you had me learn how to tie a bow tie, huh?" You started going through the steps—ensuring one end was longer than the other, then crossing it over the shorter end, bringing it up from under the loop and through it.

"Yes."

The bow tie had taken shape, and you were almost done.

"What was your plan if Robyn didn't let you see me?"

"I would've called you and gotten you to sneak away."

You finished tying it, and it wasn't perfect, but it didn't look too bad.

"And I would've with zero hesitation," you said, patting the bow tie. "You look so good." You leaned out to peck him on the cheek.

"Not as good as you."

You huffed out air. "Obviously, you can't see me because only half of my makeup is done—there's literally eyeshadow on only one side. I look like a mess."

Your hands were on his shoulders, and he rubbed his hands back and forth on your arms.

"A beautiful mess."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm in love."

"I'm in love, too—madly, as a matter of fact. Oh, your dad took me out for breakfast this morning in the Mustang. He filled up the tank on our way home, and when we got back before everyone came over, he polished it, so I think it’s safe to assume you’re gonna get to drive it at some point in the next twenty-four hours—you can’t see, but I’m wagging my eyebrows.” You were.

His lips pouted, and his hands remained still. “Who drove to and from the diner?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I just wanna know.”

“But why does it matter?”

“You’re deflecting.”

“No, I’m just curious why you need to know who drove.”

His shoulders slumped. “I think I have my answer—how many times has he let you drive it now? Was that four or five?”

“Six. He let me drive with him in the passenger seat and Robyn in the back when we went wedding dress shopping.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you get weird like you are now that he lets me drive it—I can’t help that he thinks my cooking is Mustang-driving-worthy.”

“But you didn’t make him anything when you went wedding dress shopping…”

“No, but he was so touched I wanted him there to help me pick out a dress, he thought the special occasion warranted me getting to drive.”

“He didn’t let me drive the Mustang when we went to find a tux…” he grumbled.

“I’m sorry to break it to you, babe, but my wedding dress I bought and am going to save in case our future daughter wants to wear it one day is a little more special than your rented tux that has been worn many times before you by strangers. Now, stop being jealous, and get excited that you’re finally going to drive it, and unlike me, you’ll be allowed to drive it wherever the fuck you want, so there, you have one up on me.”

He seemed to be thinking long and hard about that last bit.

“That is better…”

“It sure is. Lean in and kiss me. It’ll make you less grumpy.”

“As much as I’m dying to kiss you right now, I, um, wanna wait, so it’s kinda special…”

“I respect that and understand what you mean. Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“I’m really fucking happy we’re getting married today, and I hope you like my dress.”

He smiled brightly. “I’m really fucking happy we’re getting married, too. I’m gonna love your dress.”

“I hope so.”

“Baby, you could show up in a paper bag, and I’d be blown away.”

“The bar is so low. Do you wanna feel what I’ll be wearing under the dress?”

The pink of his tongue quickly peeked between his lips, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

His timbre deepened. “Yes.”

You poked your head out the window to ensure no one was around, then loosened the belt, holding your robe shut. Taking his hand, you started at your shoulder beneath the silk, letting his fingertips graze over the bare skin, trailing them down to the lacy cup of your strapless bra. He couldn’t help himself and palmed your covered breast before you moved his hand once more to continue the journey downward, where he got to feel the smooth, stretchy material hugging your middle; you let his fingers find that the spandex covering the warmth between your thighs, too.

“Not very sexy,” you said. “Well, the bra is cute. The rest is so I don’t look lumpy in the dress or have panty lines.”

He was about to say something, but you spoke before he had a chance. “Yes, Javier, I know you love my natural body, including the bits I don’t, but I wanna look my very best, and that means Spanx.”

He was frowning. “Are they uncomfortable?”

It warmed your heart that he was concerned for your comfort.

"Not really," you answered truthfully. "They're like my bicycle shorts, so stretchy and breathable. Will it make you feel better to know I have sexier bottoms I'm gonna wear when I change into my comfier dress after food and our first dance?"

He didn't know what your wedding dress looked like, but he had seen the one you were changing into after it.

His free hand went to the window frame, feeling along it until he found where the opened window stopped and ducked his head under it. His face was close to yours, one of his palms still between your legs, the other carefully sliding up the edge of your open robe.

"I'd prefer you wear no panties," he rasped, pulling the silk off your shoulder. His mouth pressed to the newly revealed skin, the soft kiss of his lips and tickle of his mustache, paired with his hand on your pussy beginning to rub, had sparks dancing down your spine. "It's gonna make me hard," his words were muffled between kisses as he moved across your shoulder toward your neck, "seeing you in your wedding dress.” Your fingers went into the hair at the back of his head, his spare hand palming your breast. “I'm gonna lose my fucking mind hearing you say 'I do.'" He was kissing and nibbling at your throat now, the added friction of his palm at the crux of your thighs making it hard to think. "It's gonna drive me fucking crazy that you're my wife—my wife,” he repeated against your throat. “And I’ll be your husband—I already want you, but all I’ll be able to think about after we’re pronounced husband and wife is getting you alone, and if you’re not wearing panties, it’ll make it easier for me to lift up that pretty—“

“No, Javier!” Robyn interrupted, and you felt cold water mist against your bare skin, the spray bottle hissing near your ear. “Bad!”

“Fuck!” he yelped, his head narrowly missing the bottom of the raised window as he pushed back from you so fast you’d think he was burned. His expression had turned grumpy as he stood. “What the fuck was that for?”

“I promised your daddy I wouldn’t let you see her,” she said, looking mad. “But out of the kindness of my heart—” She pressed a hand to the left side of her chest. “—I went against my word to your father, and how do you repay me? By wastin’ time gettin’ fresh with your fiancée when I’m riskin’ your daddy bein’ madder than a box of frogs at me for not doin’ what I said I’d do—you’re bein’ real rude Javier Peña, exploitin’ my niceness and I’d appreciate you sayin’ your goodbyes, and bein’ on your way.”

His eyes were covered, but it was visible how his face shifted from grumpy to guilty.

“I’m sorry, Robyn,” he said.

“Apology accepted. Say goodbye, and then we gotta get back to work.”

“Okay,” he replied.

The other woman headed back to the en suite. Leaning forward, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to step toward you.

“Thank you for coming to see me or, you know, talk to me,” you told him.

He smiled, squeezing your palm. “There was zero chance of me waiting to talk to you until the wedding. I love you too much.”

“I’m happy you did, and I love you, too.”

He lifted your hand and kissed the back of it.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I know you will, and I’ll be there.”

Javi sighed. “I better go. Bye, Cielito,” he said and didn’t move.

“You’re gonna see me in a little bit—get going, babe.”

He sighed again. “Fine. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

This time, he quickly pecked the back of your hand and started quietly walking along the front of the house. You assumed he had taken off the sleep mask to sneak away.

You closed and locked the window, shutting the blinds and curtains, feeling happy that you'd be seeing him again soon.

It took some time to finish getting ready, as you wanted to look perfect. Robyn did a fantastic job on your makeup, and your hair turned out well. When you saw yourself all dolled up and wearing your dress, you almost couldn't believe it was your reflection staring back at you in the mirror.

The white, silky satin hugged your curves as it cascaded to the ground to pool around your feet, the fabric having some stretch to it so your movements weren’t hindered. The neckline dipped in a slight V, your upper back bare from under your armpits up, and thin straps went over your shoulders connecting the two sides.

With how the satin draped over your figure, perfectly fitting the contours of your body, then flared out below your knees, it had a Morticia Addams feel to it—change the color of it to black, add sleeves, and you’d find it in her closet.

Javi was right. You looked so amazing that he was absolutely going to get a boner when he saw you.

And wasn't that just the sweetest thing?

A man so in love with you he gets aroused even when you're fully clothed because he thinks you're that pretty. He was also the kind of guy who sometimes got too excited from a kiss, and you had to wait a little while in the car for him to calm down…

"What do you think?" Robyn asked beside you. She'd put on her dress—a lavender-colored, A-line, floor-length gown with ruffled short sleeves and a V-neckline that, as an added bonus, had pockets.

You met her eyes in the mirror. "That I've never looked more beautiful—if you ever wanted to get out of nursing, you'd be a fantastic makeup artist."

She smiled, her full lips painted in rose-pink lipstick. "Thank you, but I prefer doin' it as a hobby and bein' able to help my friends out."

"Well, thank you for making me look insanely pretty."

"All I did was enhance what was already there, girl—Javi's gonna lose it."

"I hope he does."

A knock sounded from the bedroom door, and without a word, your friend went to see who it was.

"Is it okay for Chucho to see you?" Robyn called from the other room.

"Yes!" you answered, and nerves started fluttering in your belly over what he'd think.

Within seconds, your father-in-law was standing in the doorway, where you faced him with a grin.

"Dios mío (My God)," he gasped, his hand going to his mouth, “eres tan hermosa (you’re so beautiful)!” His dark eyes behind his glasses started to shine.

He was wearing light grey slacks, a white long-sleeved dress shirt, and a tie in the same shade as Robyn’s dress resting against his chest from a perfect Windsor knot at his throat, his camera dangling from a strap around his neck; as usual, his long hair was pulled back in a low ponytail.

“Ese vestido es perfecto (That dress is perfect)!” he said. “Estoy tan feliz de que lo hayas elegido porque te ves increíble (I’m so happy you chose it because you look amazing). Javi se va a volver loco (Javi is going to go crazy)."

"You really think so?" you asked, looking down at your outfit.

"Oh, yes." He nodded. "He's not going to leave you alone. We'll have to get a crowbar to pry him away from you."

You giggled, looking at him. "Yeah, I have a feeling he's gonna be stuck to me all night."

"When isn't he?"

The question made you laugh. "Touché."

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to," the older man started, "but I went through mi amor's jewelry to see if there was anything I thought you might want to wear—it could be your something old—” You hadn’t figured out what to do for something old; your something new was the perfume Javi got you for Christmas that you saved for today so he’d have a scent memory. Something borrowed was Chucho’s land, where your ceremony and party would take place, and something blue was a garter from Robyn around your thigh under your dress. “—and I found this necklace,” he said.

That's when you realized he was holding a large, thin, black leather box in his other hand.

Chucho walked closer to you, holding it in a palm, while the other lifted the hinged top—the necklace was made up of many silver waves connected together, purple sapphires resting in each dip, that you counted seventeen in total. It was stunning, the metal and precious gemstones glimmering beneath the lighting.

"I gave this to mi Antonia on our twentieth anniversary," he told you. "We'd visit her family in Mexico two, three times a year, and always for Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead). On one visit, she saw this necklace and fell in love with it—it's Taxco silver and known for its high quality; many pieces made with it are crafted by hand and marked, so you know it's real. She wouldn't let me buy it for her because she thought it was too expensive for something she’d hardly wear, but the way she looked at it, I had to get it for her anyway, so I did and surprised her with it on our anniversary; she yelled at me," he chuckled, smiling. "Then had me put it on her and covered my face in kisses." He sighed fondly. "I think if she were here today, this is what she would've chosen for you, too—if you don’t like it, we can go upstairs for you to pick something else out..."

"No, Pop," you said quickly, meeting his gaze. There was a lump in your throat at the thought he'd put into finding you this piece of jewelry. "It's perfect, and I'd love to wear it. Can you help me put it on, please?"

"Yes, Mija." He set the open box on the bathroom counter and picked up the necklace with the same care as you would a newborn. Turning so your back was to him, he had an end in each hand as his arm went over your head to get the silver and sapphires around the front of your neck, clasping it at the back. He stepped away, and you faced him again.

There was a smile on his face, and his eyes were soft. "Mi hija hermosa (My beautiful daughter).” The sentence had your breath hitching. “¿Ella es preciosa, no (She is gorgeous, right)?" he asked Robyn. She understood Spanish but had a hard time speaking it.

The other woman was beside him, grinning. "She sure is," she agreed. "A real stunner."

"I'm so happy this day has finally come." Tears were brimming on his eyelids, and he took off his glasses to wipe them away. "I just wish mi amor was here to see our son marry such a wonderful woman."

Your eyes were burning as you held back from crying. He'd put his eyeglasses back on, and you stepped forward to hug him, being careful of your makeup. His arms went around you, squeezing you back.

"I wish she was here, too," you said. "At least we've got you, the best dad in the whole world. I love you, Pop."

"I love you, too, Mija. Thank you for loving my son and making him the happiest I've ever seen. We're blessed to have you in our lives, and I can't tell you how much joy I feel that you've decided to take our last name; I think it suits you better."

"I think it suits me better, too."

“You’re gonna kill the grass if you keep walking back and forth like that,” the other man told him.

They were at the oak tree on the hill, and the sun was getting close to setting. Javier had his whole outfit on: a black tuxedo and bow tie, white shirt, and lavender pocket square—he’d borrowed a pair of his father’s golden cufflinks, and one of his mother’s violet roses was pinned to his lapel. He didn’t have a cigarette to calm his nerves, so he was pacing, but the comment had him stopping with a sigh.

"Are you wearing a hole in the ground 'cause you're being impatient?" Steve continued. "Or are you nervous?"

His gaze went to his best friend, who was standing in front of him holding a small, white, heart-shaped pillow adorned in lace that went around the edges—there were two golden rings, one bigger than the other, secured to the top of it by a satin ribbon tied into a bow. The older man was dressed in a charcoal-colored suit he regularly wore to work, with a new tie provided by Javier that matched his lavender pocket square. Nate was in a carrier on his back; the parents put the one-year-old in a onesie that made him look like he was wearing a tuxedo and some dark pants, the child happily chewing on a football-shaped teething toy.

His hands went to his hips as he frowned. “Both?” Javier answered. “I can’t wait to see her, and I’m nervous about saying shi-stuff—“ He quickly corrected himself with the children present. “—I usually save for when we’re alone.”

Steve was giving him a weird look. “My kids are here. This ‘stuff’ is appropriate for them to hear, right…? It’s not anything… lewd…?”

Javier’s eyes narrowed. “No, it’s not anything like that, you judgemental pri-prude.”

The blonde man’s free hand went up in a placating gesture. “Hey, you said you save it for when you’re alone, and y’all have stayed at our house—any time the two of you were alone, you… folded laundry.”

“Folded laundry…?”

“Javi,” Connie said to get his attention, and he looked over to where she was fussing with the purple bow in Olivia’s hair. “You know when there’s a big load of laundry that requires two adults to fold, and they have to lock the bedroom door so there aren’t any distractions.”

Oh, ‘folding laundry’ was their code word for sex—that was smart.

“Mom and Dad have been folding a lot of laundry together lately,” Olivia added with a quizzical expression. “I didn’t know it was so hard to do alone—the baskets don’t seem that big.”

Javier smiled, his head turning from one parent to the other, seeing they were avoiding his eyes and blushing—good for them, fucking regularly.

“It’s more satisfying to do laundry with someone, so it gets done quicker,” he said.

“Doesn’t seem to get done quicker,” she replied.

Steve cleared his throat before he spoke. “Anyways, enough about laundry—what are you planning to say that’s got you nervous, Jav?”

He stopped smiling and scratched his mustache. “Uh, like, lovey-dovey, romantic crap…”

His best friend’s smile grew into a shit-eating grin. “What, like, super cheesy stuff? Are you gonna read the poetry you wrote about her eyes in your diary or something?”

Javier ground his teeth.

"Leave him alone, Steve," Connie said. "In our wedding video, before I walked down the aisle, you were clearly figuring out where all of the nearest exits were in the church. It’s refreshing and sweet that Javi’s gonna be vulnerable in front of everyone for the woman he loves.”

"I was checking where the exits were in case of a fire!" Steve rebuked. "All those candles they lit made me nervous."

"If that's what you tell yourself." She didn’t sound convinced.

“I was! Why did we need to be here forty-five minutes early?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “I was really enjoying the food your aunties were feeding us back at the house.”

There wasn’t a chance for Javier to respond; the answer to the question was he wanted to show how eager he was to marry the woman he actually loved and avoid any chance of being late—it also was a ‘fuck you’ to the people betting against him at the bar.

"Tío, tío!" The three-year-old Stevie shouted, running up to him; he was holding a Ninja Turtle action figure he'd been playing with in the grass.

Javier smiled, his attention moving to the child, crouching to be at his level. "Yes, mi principito (my little prince)?"

"We match!" His tiny finger pointed at his little light purple bow tie over his white dress shirt. The kid refused to wear a regular tie like his dad, and the only way they got him to agree to the clip-on bow tie was by telling him Javier had one, too.

His friends weren't by any means struggling with money, but Javier and his wif-fiancée, sent them a check to pay for their trip to Texas, which included flights, lodging, a rental car, and clothes for the wedding since they wanted those at the ceremony to match—Olivia got a new dress and so did her mom in the shade of lavender everyone else was wearing.

The family had gotten into town the day before. Cielito and Javier had shown them around town and taken them out to the ranch where Chucho and Connie finally got to meet in person—there was a lot of hugging—and that evening, they all, including his father, went out to dinner. Today, he’d spent more time with his friends before they all needed to get ready, then they followed him out to the ranch to distract Chucho while Javier covertly went to see, or, well, talk to his bride-to-be—the sleep mask was Connie’s idea, and she thought them sneakily meeting without anyone knowing was incredibly romantic.

"We do, bud,” he said. “You look so cool." He gently patted the child's arm.

Stevie was grinning. "I'm gonna walk from Mommy to Daddy and give him the rings?"

The hill they were on wasn’t too steep; Olivia was fine with walking up it from the bottom—she was excited to do it. For her younger brother, it was too much for him, so Connie was going to stand with Stevie a little before the land evened out at the top to signal when it was time for him to walk to his father.

"Yes," he nodded. "You'll walk while holding the pillow with the rings and hand it to your dad."

"It's a special job?"

"It's very special."

"Sissy's gonna throw flowers?"

"Yes, flower petals."

"It's a special job, too?"

"It is. They’re both important. Thank you for helping me, mi principito (my little prince).” He ruffled the child’s dirty blonde hair, making Stevie laugh.

Javier’s primos, Sebastián, and his tía Rebeca's daughter, Angelita, were taking care of the videography and photography, respectively. Seb had the video camera Javier bought, and Angelita had her own gear since she was a professional photographer—when you had fourteen cousins on just your father’s side, the odds were in your favor, one of them could either help with what you needed or knew somebody who could.

Photos were taken of Javier with the Murphys when they all first got there, and then his primos told everyone to pretend they weren’t there while they got candids and views of the scenery—his cousins arrived together in Sebastián’s SUV.

“Hey, Javi?” Seb said as he walked toward him.

"I gotta talk to him, buddy," Javier told Stevie. "I'll be back." He rose up with a groan, taking a few steps to reach his primo. "Yeah?" he answered.

When camcorders first came out, they were big and had to be rested on the operator’s shoulder, but the one Seb was using, he held in one of his hands with the side pulled open to see the little screen that previewed what was being recorded. The younger man hit a button on the video camera to pause what he’d been doing. “Do you want me to interview people?” Seb asked. “Ask how they like the wedding, if they have any advice, that kinda stuff.”

"Uh." He thought about it and Cielito would probably enjoy that. "Sure.”

"Perfecto (Perfect)." Seb nodded, hitting the button to record again.

Javier immediately regretted his decision when the camera was put in his face.

“It’s your big day, primo,” Seb said. “How are you feeling?”

“Um, excited and nervous.”

“The audience would like to hear how you met your bride.”

Javier smiled, heat rising on his cheeks. “At the grocery store, in the produce department—I guess it was obvious I was struggling to pick out a tomato, and she came to my rescue and showed me what to look for.”

“What was your first impression of her?”

He scratched at the back of his neck while looking away. “Uh, that she was sweet for helping me out, and beautiful. I could tell she had a good, kind heart and—” he lowered his voice so the children wouldn’t hear him. “—no fuckin’ clue who I was.” He chuckled. “I was hooked from that first conversation; an instant connection—there was something about her that told me she was going to be someone important to me, and I’d never felt that with anyone else.”

“What’d you do for your first date?”

His immediate thought was what happened after the bar, and his face felt hot. “We, uh, went out for drinks.”

“When did you know you loved her?”

He looked at the camera. “Honestly? Our third date. We were dancing in her kitchen to “¿Y cómo es él?”—”

“Mi mamá loves that song,” Seb said.

Javier huffed, smiling. “All my tías do. So, uh, we were dancing in her kitchen, and I realized she was the woman I was going to marry. I could see us having a future and was picturing what our Sunday mornings would look like—which, they’re exactly how I imagined—yeah, I knew I loved her on the third date and that we were going to get married one day.” He cleared his throat. “When my dad tells the story of the first time he saw my mother, he says his gut told him she was the one, and I always thought he was talking out of his—ass,” he whispered. “But it’s real and crazy to know deep down inside that you’ve found the person who completes you—feeling that confirmed she was it and that I truly did love her.”

“I think I know the feeling you’re talking about, and it’s great.”

“It is, and at your wedding, I’m gonna grill you on camera about it.”

“Hey, your wife is gonna eat this up, and you both want kids; think about your hijos (children) watching this one day and seeing how much you love their mom on your wedding day.”

The thought of sitting on the couch surrounded by his wife and kids, watching this wedding video, made him soften to the point he was putty—he wanted it to be a reality one day.

“What’s something you want to say to the bride before you get married?” Seb asked.

“I love you, and today is the best day of my entire fucking life—”

“—Eso es un dólar en la jarra, tío (That’s a dollar in the jar, uncle).” Olivia interrupted.

She meant the swear jar.

Javier sighed. “Lo siento, mi tesorito (I’m sorry, my little treasure). As I was saying, mi Cielito, I love you, and today is the best day of my entire freaking life. Happy isn’t enough to describe how I feel about us starting this new chapter of being husband and wife, and I’m looking forward to our future full of love, happiness, and hopefully, a lot of kids.” He smiled big. “I love you more than anything, and I will tell you that every day for the rest of our lives. Te amo, mi amor (I love you, my love).” To end the sentence, he blew a kiss at the camera lens.

In order to get to where Javi was, it involved Chucho driving you off-road, and the trip was bumpy; you sat in the passenger seat, and Robyn was in the backseat, and because your father-in-law was probably as nervous as you were about speaking in front of people, he held your hand the entire way.

The previous day, when you brought the Murphys out to the ranch, you’d taken them to where you were going to be wed to do a quick rehearsal on how things would go; Olivia was beyond ecstatic to be a flower girl, and Stevie didn’t really understand what was going on, except that his tío Javi had an important job for him.

Chucho pulled up and parked at the base of the hill with your door opposite it so you couldn’t get a closer look at everyone atop it. The butterflies in your belly were flapping around so hard you thought they might get out, while your mind was racing with what could go wrong like you falling—that was a reason you wore flats, but with how much of your dress touched the ground, there was a chance of it tripping you up. Or what if Javi’s handsomeness made your brain stop working, and you couldn’t speak a single coherent word? Something that has happened before. God, your heart was pounding, and you thought you might be having a minor panic attack due to your vision starting to tunnel—a small silver flask was held up in front of your face, the cap already twisted off.

“Take a drink, Mija,” Chucho’s soothing voice said. “It’ll calm you down.”

The man was a lifesaver.

You grabbed it, taking a big swig, and your face pinched as the whiskey burned down your throat—from the taste and smoothness, you recognized it as Javi’s favorite, which was top shelf, a little spendy, and probably came from the bottle your fiancé gifted his dad to thank him for his help in getting you to give the green light to start your family.

The effect the alcohol had on you was almost immediate, feeling all of the tense muscles in your body relax at the same time. Your father-in-law took the flask from you and knocked it back with a drink of his own.

“Robyn?” he asked when he finished, holding it up for her to reach.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she replied, accepting it from him to take a gulp.

“I couldn’t see Antonia before our wedding,” he said, his head turned your way, “or talk to her. We were kept apart at the church, and I was so nervous that I was shaking like a leaf.” He chuckled. “Not about getting married, but having to stand in front of so many people. It had to be minutes before I needed to go out with the priest that mi amor’s maid of honor, her best friend, found me to give me an opened bottle of tequila and a note written by Antonia that read, ‘Mi amor, un trago para el coraje (My love, a drink for courage). Yo también necesitaba uno (I needed one, too).’ And she left a lipstick stamp of her lips at the bottom, where she kissed the paper. I won’t deny it. I kissed where her lips had been and took two shots.”

The story made you smile.

Chucho had put on a jacket that matched his light grey pants, and you watched as he pulled something from the inside pocket. It was a small folded piece of paper that’d been ripped from the notepad he kept by the answering machine at his house to write down messages. He passed it over to you, and you unfolded it, finding Javi’s scratchy handwriting. You read what he wrote:

Cielito, You said you were never drinking again, but I think this can be an exception since you’re probably freaking the fuck out about embarrassing yourself like I am. I’m worried I’ll see how beautiful you are and forget how to talk, or my brain will stop working. Have a drink to calm your nerves, and know it will all be okay because we’re doing this together. I love you, Your husband

The note was touching, especially since he knew how you’d be feeling.

“When did he write this?” you asked Chucho, whose eyes you met, the man smiling.

“When he met up with Connie and all of them at the house before they came out here. I’d given him the flask when he got there as a gift, but he told me to keep it for you and asked if he could write you a message. It reminded me so much of his mother, I couldn’t say no.”

“Thanks, Pop. I needed it.”

“I know you did, Mija.” He patted your leg.

When Javier saw his father's truck in the distance, his heart rate increased, and by the time they parked at the bottom of the hill, his heart was beating so fast that he was sure it was going to beat right out of his chest.

With where he was standing at the tree and how the land sloped, he didn’t have a visual. Steve was beside him with Nate still in the carrier, Connie and Stevie, who was holding the pillow with the rings, had walked to the top of the hill and were looking down it, probably watching Olivia, who booked it to join the people at the truck. Seb was near Steve's wife and kid with the camcorder and a battery-powered boombox on the ground he was supposed to hit play on when Robyn gave him the signal.

Sweat was forming on his brow and on his palms. He turned to Steve.

"Do I look okay?" he asked his friend. "How's my hair? And the bow tie?" He lifted his chin.

The other man was wearing an amused smile. "Hair and bow tie look as fine as they did when you asked five minutes ago." He put a hand on Javier's shoulder and squeezed. "Relax, man—you look great. She's gonna love what she sees."

"I fucking hope so."

The sun had started its descent on the horizon and was the backdrop for the place they’d be standing; the sky where it met land was lit up in burning orange, bleeding into golden yellow where the sun was positioned, and high above that, it turned into a calming mauve.

The soft, melodic sound of a piano began, and it was Javier's cue to face the others. Christine McVie’s voice floated through the air as she sang the opening to the Fleetwood Mac song, "Songbird:"

“For you there'll be no more crying For you the Sun will be shining And I feel that when I'm with you It's alright, I know it's right.”

Seconds later, Robyn came into view, smiling while holding a small bouquet of sunflowers with a lavender ribbon wrapped around the stems. She shot her boyfriend, Sebastián, a wink as she passed him. She took her spot across from Javier beside where Cielito would be.

When he discussed with his wife-to-be the music for today, she only knew for sure what she wanted them to dance their first dance to, and since Javier didn’t object to it, she left what she’d walk down the aisle to up to him. He knew she’d hate the traditional “Bridal Chorus,” a couple of Elvis Presley songs came to mind, “No Sé Tú” by Luis Miguel perfectly described how Javier felt when they met and was a good option, “At Last” by Etta James would be appropriate, too, and “I Could Fall in Love” by Selena was in the running, because, Selena, but then he remembered this song on Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours—his favorite album, and for good reason with it having some of the band’s best classics like “The Chain,” “Dreams,” and “Go Your Own Way;” it was also seeping with palpable heartbreak of a messy breakup, except for the track, “Songbird.” It was a major tonal shift from all the angst with its pretty piano and Christine McVie crooning her love. What sold him on it were the lines:

“To you, I’ll give the world To you, I’ll never be cold ‘Cause I feel that when I’m with you It’s alright, I know it’s right.”

He loved it when he heard it played live at the band's concert twenty-three years ago—he’d been seventeen and still in high school; he and his buddies snuck off to Fort Worth to see them, and “Songbird” was the last song of their set before the encore.

It was his three-year-old sobrino’s (nephew’s) turn to walk forward, his mom sending him to his dad with the rings—they all laughed at how he ran as fast as he could, making Javier smile.

"Here, Daddy," the child said to Steve, holding up the pillow.

His father accepted it.

"Great job, kiddo—high-five." His friend had to bend a little to gently hit his palm to Stevie’s tinier one, and the toddler turned to Javier expectantly, who, of course, bent his knees and high-fived him.

"You did good, buddy,” he said.

Steve told his son to stand with him, and Connie went to be next to Robyn as everyone watched Olivia walk up, tossing red rose petals from a small white basket, leaving a trail of them behind her. He hum-sang under his breath along with the song:

“And the songbirds are singing Like they know the score And I love you, I love you, I love you Like never before.”

Finally, his bride came into view, her eyes locking onto his, and all the love he had for, all of his happiness, and thanks he had to the universe for making this day happen overflowed from him, falling as tears down his face and made his smile so big, he could feel the dimple in his cheek.

She was breathtaking and better than anything he could’ve imagined; this moment would be seared into his brain for all eternity, and he didn’t think he’d ever felt this happy in his entire life—he almost told Steve to make sure he didn’t float away.

Her bouquet was made up of roses from his mother’s garden, and his heart felt like it would burst. Then the dress—Jesus Christ, the dress was perfect with how it molded to her body and showed off her tits from the neckline V-ing between them. His fingers were itching to see if the fabric was as buttery smooth as it looked, wanting to explore the expanse with his fingertips, mapping out every curve, line, and dip he’d already ventured countless times before but now on a new canvas; He desired to feel her softness under his palms and cradle her beautiful face to kiss those delectable lips he so loved; he wanted to hold her in his arms, her familiar shape he knew as intimately as his own, pressed against him, where she belonged.

All of it was getting him too excited, and his pants were feeling tighter, just as he suspected might happen.

Javier’s dream wedding night would have them partying with their friends and family well into the later hours and holding off on consummating their marriage until they retired to the room he rented at the nicest hotel in town he was surprising her with. He’d been determined to do just that up until he had to spend the previous evening by himself where he was alone with his thoughts and ruminated on how beautiful she was going to look, that she was going to be his wife, and one day soon, the mother of his children; since she wasn’t there to distract him by simply being in his vicinity, he worked himself up until he was rock hard and had to take a freezing shower.

He didn’t see there being any chance they’d make it to the hotel without them fucking at least once beforehand.

God, she was so fucking gorgeous.

He had to wipe at the wetness on his face, his smile continuing to shine.

Telling her his feelings in front of everyone wasn’t all he’d been nervous about; his brain was a real asshole, and there’d been a tiny thread of worry she wasn’t going to show—it was stupid, to have even fathomed something so absurd, yet looking at how shitty his luck was up until they met, he thought it wouldn’t have been too surprising that this time he’d be the one left at the altar.

But she was here! She came! And he was so overjoyed he couldn’t stop crying.

Wait.

Oh, fuck, she was close now—what was he supposed to do? It only just registered that she was walking with his dad, and they were almost to him, and he couldn’t remember what needed to happen when she got to him. His heart was pounding a mile a minute, and he was starting to panic that he didn’t know what his next move was, worried he was going to fuck it all up; it was unbelievable that he’d been in gunfights, had to think on the fly to stay alive many times, and put on press conferences, yet at this moment when there wasn’t any danger or eager reporters, he was so overwhelmed by the woman he loved’s beauty, and that she was marrying him, his brain had ceased functioning entirely, and he was spiraling at embarrassing himself with so many onlookers.

Javi was having a panic attack.

The change in his eyes, how they went from bright and happy to panicked, clued you in, and any nervousness you felt flew out the window because your only concern was helping him.

Unhooking your arm from Chucho, you held out the hand, not holding flowers to Robyn.

“Flask me,” you said. Quickly, she pulled it from her pocket and passed it to you, taking your bouquet in return. You stepped in front of your betrothed as you unscrewed the cap on the container of booze. “Hey, baby,” you said in a soothing tone. “You’re okay.” You grabbed his hand and put the flask in it, pushing it toward his face. “Have a drink to calm your nerves. Everything is gonna be okay, honey. Remember, we’re doing this together—it’s just us.”

The music had stopped playing.

He shook his head once like he was trying to shake the bad stuff out, and he took a drink, or several, with how his Adam’s apple kept bobbing.

“Looks like I’ll be driving us after this.” The adults surrounding you chuckled, and you smiled.

His hand lowered, and his vision focused on you, a pink flush spreading over his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“No reason to be sorry—I freaked out in the car.” You took the flask from him, screwed on the cap, and handed it back to Robyn without looking. “Feeling better?” you asked, smoothing your fingers over his bangs while his eyes were on yours.

“Much,” he answered with a small smile, his palms moving to rest on your hips.

“Wanna get married?”

“More than anything.”

“Good—liquid courage helps.” You leaned in to kiss his cheek, then put your lips near his ear for only him to hear, “Say the word, and we’ll pack up, go party with everyone, and hit the courthouse tomorrow.”

He spoke softly in your ear, “Thank you, Cielito, but I promise I’m okay.” He kissed your cheek. “I told you I’d see how beautiful you are and forget how to function.”

You giggled, pulling back to look at him, taking in the black tuxedo jacket and bow tie over his crisp white shirt and the lavender pocket square and the pinned violet rose for a pop of color—his hair still looked good, and you rubbed away the tears on his cheeks with your thumbs.

When he saw you in your wedding dress, the expression on his face was something you’d never forget—it was a look of pure, uninhibited joy, and you were sure you saw hearts in his eyes with how they beamed his immense love and devotion. The way that it had him crying happy tears made you feel emotional that someone loved you with such magnitude. It’s why your immediate thought when you saw him panicking wasn’t that he wanted to back out, knowing from his note that he was freaking the fuck out about embarrassing himself, and the nerves got him.

“Let’s get married.” His head turned to kiss one of your palms.

“Let’s get married.”

Turning to your almost-father-in-law, you gave him a quick hug, and he kissed your forehead before he moved to give Javi a side hug, careful of the stuff held in one of his hands and whispering something in his son’s ear, you didn’t catch.

The elder Peña went to stand at his place in front of the tree, holding his worn, soft leather bible, with a picture of Javi’s mother stuck to the cover and a note card sticking out from between the pages to mark a spot.

Javier took your hand, and you both walked the few steps to your spots before his father; he grasped your other palm in his once you faced one another, Chucho on your left and Javi’s right.

Your husband-to-be mouthed, ‘I love you,’ and you silently replied with the movement of your lips, ‘I love you, too.’

Chucho cleared his throat, and your attention went to him.

“Welcome, loved ones,” he started, “we are gathered here today in the sight of God and each other to bear witness to the perfect union of Javier, and—” He said your name. “What a joyous day we get to share with them as they embark on this new journey of a life together in matrimony that will, no doubt, be long, healthy, and filled with love, happiness, and laughter.

“Mijo, Mija,” he addressed you both, “I called this union between you perfect, and I meant it. Besides my marriage to my dear Antonia, que en paz descanse (may she rest in peace), I cannot think of two other people more suited to share a life together. It’s clear the good you bring out in one another and how happy you make each other.” His eyes landed on you. “And you truly make my son happy. This might come as a shock,” he said to everyone in attendance, “but Javier is a smiley guy when he’s happy, and I haven’t seen him smile so much in a long, long time.

“He also has never been able to hide his feelings because that handsome face of his tells his secrets—it’s his—” He glanced at you. “—I’m stealing this from you, Mija—it’s his puppy dog eyes, he got from his mother, and she suffered the same problem.” His gaze stayed on you. “I know Javier loves you more than there’s blue in all the sky because he looks at you the same way mi amor looked at me, and as we know, their eyes don’t lie.”

He was right, and it made you choke up that he knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of such honesty and the weight of so much love.

Chucho looked at his son. “Your media naranja (soulmate) isn’t much better.” He nodded toward you. “Her eyes betray her, too, even when she does her damndest to hide behind a mask. When she looks at you, though, the truth of her love is revealed—her thoughts are loud when she stares at you, and sometimes I think I can hear them; the declaration of ‘I love you,’ she’s repeating over and over again. She looks at you like you’re her whole world, and I know it’s true from those looks, how she treats and cares for you, the things she does for you, even when you don’t ask, and the effort she puts into cultivating your relationship.”

He spoke to you both again. “Marriage can be wonderful with the right person, but it isn’t always easy; I want to take a moment and give you some advice that kept my marriage happy.

“Be best friends—talk about everything, even when you don’t want to or it’s a hard subject. Communicate your needs and wants constantly, and don’t stop talking to each other. Be best friends who share everything, and I mean everything, because your relationship needs to be built upon trust, and there’s nothing better than spending your life with your best friend.

“Keep having fun—joke around, cook together, dance in the kitchen, don’t stop having fun. And keep dating each other. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean that the dating stops. Go out, stay in, just have romantic time you dedicate to one another; that way, the spark stays alive. I know it’ll be harder to do when you have kids; you’ll be exhausted and won’t have much energy. Dating still needs to be a priority, and it doesn’t have to be anything exciting; it can be as simple as putting the kids to bed, staying up, watching a movie together, or baking cookies.”

“—or folding laundry together,” Steve interjected.

Javi chuckled, and you were confused. He leaned toward you to whisper in your ear, “It’s their code word for sex.”

“Oh, that’s smart,” you said as he straightened.

A furrow was between Chucho’s eyebrows. “I guess folding laundry can be romantic…” the older man said. “Now, where was I?” He opened his bible and pulled out the notecard, his eyes scanning over. “Oh, yes—anyone can fall in love; it’s nurturing that love, sharing your life with the other, facing challenges together, and growing as one that makes it real love, and what you have is real. The love you share and I had with my wife is beautiful, but it’s also fierce, it’s powerful, and all consuming; it’s not something anyone can get between and will live on even when you no longer walk the earth. I know you didn’t want a religious ceremony, but there’s a scripture I’d like to share that perfectly describes what I mean. May I?” he asked, his bible already open to the page.

Javier and you figured he’d slip in a verse or two simply because he was a devout Christian man. It was nice of him to ask permission first, though. You turned your head to meet your almost-husband’s eyes and shrugged that you were fine with it. He smiled, his attention going back to his father.

“Go ahead,” Javi said.

Chucho had a toothy grin. “Wonderful—it’s in Songs of Solomon 8 and reads: Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If one offered for love all the wealth of one’s house, it would be utterly scorned.”

He shut the bible with one hand, his notes resting atop it.

“I wish more people got to experience that kind of love—it’d do the world a whole lot of good. Javier—” He looked at his son, then over to you, saying your name. “I know with how you feel for each other, it’s natural to think marriage is the next step in your relationship. I want you to be sure you know what you’re getting into.” His eyes were moving between you both. “This is a lifelong commitment that will have its ups and downs, highs and lows, and you’ll need to challenge yourselves to love the other more completely each and every day. Are you ready to take this step?”

Without missing a beat, Javi and you said simultaneously, ‘Yes,’ your hands still in his.

Chucho smiled. “Wonderful. Javier—” His eyes went to his son. “—do you take—” He said your name. “—to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you honor her, cherish her, love, trust, and commit to her and her alone, through joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever else life may throw at you both, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Javi said.

His father turned his attention to you and addressed you by name. “—do you take Javier to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you honor him, cherish him, love, trust, and commit to him and him alone, through joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever else life may throw at you both, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” you answered.

“It’s time for you to share the vows you’ve written for one another before you exchange rings. Who’d like to go first?”

“Me!” you said immediately, and everyone laughed. “I need to get them out of the way before Javi makes me a blubbering mess. Robyn, vows me.” Turning her way, you put out your hand, and she juggled the two bouquets she held to pull a folded piece of paper from her pocket to hand to you. “Have I told you your dress is amazing?” you asked her.

“Thank you—I look good and have pockets. What could be better?”

“Dresses with pockets are a game-changer.” You faced Javi, and heat bloomed up your neck and on your face at remembering you had to say how you felt in front of people.

“Hey,” Javi said to get your attention, and your gazes locked. “It’s just me,” he whispered. “Talk to me—no one else is here.”

“Right.” You smiled, then focused on the lined notebook paper you unfolded that had your writing on it. “Javier Jesús Peña López,” you began, “the first of his name, King of my heart, Lord of our tiny apartment, and Protector of me—”

“Just Javi’s fine,” he said.

You giggled. “Javi, not a day goes by that I am unaware of how lucky I am to have found you. When I think about how much time you spent away from this town—that I both love and hate—all the people you’ve met, the life you’ve lived, and the things you’ve gone through, it’s a miracle our paths crossed, and possibly Divine Intervention or the universe doing me a solid, that after everything that’s happened to you, you’ve ended up here, with me.

“It’s crazy the number of obstacles we’ve had to face together and how many people are obsessed with making your life difficult—this isn’t me complaining. I’m weirdly thankful for it; it’s kept us on our toes and tested our bond. It’s improved our communication and has built a strong foundation for our relationship.

“Something I’m also thankful for is the trust we share. I can count on you. I know you’re true to your word, and I have no reason to worry about you ever being deceitful.

“What’s also reassuring is your star signs back up the faith I have in you—as a Sagittarius, you value honesty, and when you find someone you think is really worth it, you commit, and you commit hard. With Capricorn and Scorpio in your top three, you’re super loyal, a little possessive, and definitely a relationship guy. To sum all of that up, you’re pretty much perfect and an amazing partner.

“You’re a good man, the best I’ve known. My life is better with you in it. Thank you for loving me.” Tears started to distort your vision, the emotion coming through in your voice. “Thank you for loving me unconditionally. Thank you for your unwavering support and for being my rock. Thank you for being my protector and making me feel so safe with you. Thank you for being my best friend and the love of my life.”

You had to take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“Here are my promises to you,” you said, “I promise to love you until the end of time, and if I happen to go first, haunt you until we can be together again.” He chuckled. “I promise to be your protector and to always have your back; I will go to battle for you in a heartbeat, and hopefully, you know that. I promise to be honest, and it should go without saying because, as we’ve established, you’re perfect, but I promise to be faithful. I promise to keep making you laugh and smile. I promise to put you first and to always be your best friend—sorry, Steve.”

“You can have him,” Steve replied, and everyone laughed.

You continued speaking, “I promise to make your mother’s tamales a couple times a year—I promise to make you one of her other recipes on the days you miss her particularly bad. I promise to keep reminding you that you’re sexier and better than Harrison Ford.” That one made him and the others crack up. “I promise to rap “Whatta Man” for you every time it comes on, so you don’t forget whatta man you are. I promise to dance with you in the kitchen every chance we get. I promise to try, keyword here, try, not to recite the movies word for word when we watch Star Wars or Addams Family Values. I promise to always make sure we don’t run out of limes or your hot sauce or side-eye you when you put either on the perfectly seasoned food I made. I promise to always leave you the last of the ice cream because you’re a dirty liar when you say you don’t want it. I promise to tell you I love you every day until the day I die. I promise that you and your love will always be enough, and I’ll always pick you; I’ll always choose you over anyone else.

“Today, the separate books of our lives have come to an end, and we’re starting the next one together—I can’t wait to see what each new chapter will bring. What I know for sure—” You glanced over at Chucho. “—I’m stealing this from you, Pop—” Your eyes went to Javi’s, and his were reddened, his face glistening from crying and flushed from the alcohol. “—What I know for sure,” you said, “is this new adventure we’re beginning, will be filled with love, happiness, and laughter.

“Javi, you are my person. You’re the love of my life, my one true love, mi media naranja, the person I want to go to sleep with every night and wake up with every morning. You’re my best friend and my forever.

“I love you, Javier Jesús Peña López and I am so happy I get to spend eternity with you.”

His smile was big enough his dimple was showing and you hated that you couldn’t kiss him.

Chucho sniffled, putting his bible under his arm to get his handkerchief from his pocket, lifting his glasses to wipe away his tears.

“That was beautiful, Mija. When you’re ready, Javi, go ahead.”

All she said had Javier feeling so unbelievably happy that he couldn’t stop the waterfall of tears streaming down his cheeks, and he thought his smile might be permanently stuck on his face—he was sure the alcohol wasn’t helping him to keep his composure.

His dad’s speech had gotten him, too, especially about how Chucho could see her feelings for him and said their love was real. He always wondered if the intensity of what he felt for her was normal, and hearing that his parents were the same way reassured him that they just had a strong connection. His father’s advice was helpful, too, and he planned on following it.

She looked incredible and smelled amazing; her perfume wasn’t one she’d worn before, but he knew the scent because he got it for her as a Christmas present—it was intoxicating, and he was dying to shove his face into her neck to drown himself in it. With the emotions she was eliciting from him, her beauty, the perfume, and the whiskey he drank, it was a heady combination that had him feeling buzzed, and he was so caught up in all of it that it had completely slipped his mind that he had to speak.

“Shit,” he said under his breath and barely pulled open the left side of his jacket to get into the inside pocket. First, he grabbed his reading glasses, which he put on, then the folded piece of yellow, lined paper he’d taken from a legal pad at work.

“I am literally the luckiest woman in the world,” Cielito said, and his eyes lifted to her. She was smiling, her eyelashes wet, and she looked incredibly delighted.

“The glasses?” he asked with a smirk.

“Oh, yeah,” she answered. “You’re spoiling me. I get glasses Javi in a tuxedo, and he’s gonna say pretty, romantic things about how much he loves me—talk about the best day ever.”

“With how you look?” he said. “It’s my best day ever, too.”

She playfully smacked his arm. “Stop it, don’t make me want to suck—”

Robyn started coughing loudly, and his wife-to-be’s eyes widened.

“—hug you more,” she tried to save and cringed. “Hugs, not drugs, am I right?” She chuckled nervously.

He snorted, shaking his head. “You ready?” he asked.

“Wait.” Her upper body twisted so she could look behind her. “Tissue me,” she said to Robyn, and her friend got a clean one out of her pocket and exchanged it for Cielito’s folded paper. She faced him again. “Okay, I’m ready. Remember to focus on me. No one else is here.”

“That’ll be easy.” He cleared his throat, his eyes moving to what he’d written. It wasn’t something he said often, but he let her first name slide off his tongue, thinking how perfect it was going to sound paired with his last. “—mi Cielito, mi amor, mi alma, mi media naranja, y ahora, mi esposa (My Cielito, my love, my soul, my soulmate, and now, my wife), my life didn’t begin until the moment I met you; what I mean by that, is I was alive, yes, I was breathing, I had a pulse, but I didn’t start living until we met. You made me want to live and be happy—for so long, I thought I would die miserable and alone, and you showed me that I deserved happiness and to be loved.” His eyes were burning, and the following sentence made him choke up. “You showed me I deserved a family of my own.” Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. “Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I thank the universe, the powers that be. I thank whoever let you find me because I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you.”

He went off script to look into her beautiful, teary eyes. “Pop was right; I love you more than there’s blue in the sky, I love you more than there’s water in all the depths of the oceans, I love you more than there are stars in the entire galaxy—I love you more than anything, and I mean anything.”

He focused on what he’d written again. “I once told you I didn’t believe in true love, and I didn’t—that was just made-up stuff in the cartoon movies I watched with Olivia. Or at least I thought it was before you, and then, having you in my life, I discovered it was real. With you, ‘media naranja (soulmate)’ isn’t just a term of endearment; it’s an acknowledgment that you’re my other half and that we’re two parts meant to be together. Love with you transcends what most people have; we feel it deeper than our bones, all the way down into our souls, where we’re connected.

“Our love is true love.”

Wetness was dripping from his eyes to splatter onto the paper.

“Those fairytale movies got something right, and it’s that this kind of love would make a person fight dragons and sea witches for their true love. As my father said, it’s fierce, powerful, and all-consuming. It doesn’t end when our hearts stop beating; it continues on—it’s infinite—what we feel for one another is more than a single life can handle, and I’ll follow you when this one’s over; we’ll find each other again, and live another life together because there is no me without you or you without me.

“From the first day we met, I knew you were special. We spent hours talking in that bar, and I’ve never felt such peace or so comfortable with someone; with you, I don’t have to keep my guard up. I can be vulnerable, speak what’s on my mind, and openly show my affection. With you, I’m safe, and from the first night, you were my Cielito, my little heaven—there’s no better name for you, not with how happy you make me, how you make me feel, and how much better my life is with you.

“You’re my little heaven, mi Cielito, my everything. You’ve shown me more love than I’ve ever known—thank you.” His voice faltered, and he had to wipe at his eyes as best he could beneath his glasses. “Those two words aren’t enough to express my gratitude, and I will spend every waking moment showing you how thankful I am for you and all you’ve done.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said, “it’s not enough, but thank you.”

He sounded gravelly, the words thick. “In you, I’ve found love, a wife, a partner for life, a best friend, an incredible lover, a home, a teacher to show me how to live; someone who makes me happy, makes me laugh, someone to have a family with, who supports me, inspires me, and makes me want to be a better man.

“Thank you for being all of this and more. Thank you for marrying me today and making me the happiest man in the entire goddamn universe.

“Fuck,” he breathed, taking off his readers to hold with the paper while his other hand scrubbed away the tears. “I really hoped I wouldn’t cry this much—it’s embarrassing.”

“I love it,” she reassured. “It just shows you really mean what you’re saying.”

He put the lenses back on and looked at her, seeing her eyes were red from crying, the tissue in her hand stained with mascara—she’d managed to keep from ruining the rest of her makeup.

“I do mean it all,” he said.

She was smiling. “I know.”

Javier composed himself by taking a deep breath and clearing his throat. Finally, he was ready to speak again. “It was hard figuring out my vows because I wanted to promise you everything your heart could possibly desire, but Pop said that was boring.” He frowned.

“And that he needed to do better,” Chucho added.

Javier sighed.

“I would’ve been fine with that vow,” Cielito said.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “Pop was right. You deserve the best.” He took another deep breath and slowly let it out, looking at what he’d written and patting himself on the back for making notes—he was definitely too emotional and tipsy to have remembered everything he wanted to say. “Cielito,” he started, “you have all my love and devotion, and I give you myself; my mind, body, and soul belong to you. I vow to never stop loving you, even when this earth is no more and the stars stop shining. I vow to make you feel loved and cherished until the end of my days. I vow to always be your best friend, your confidant, your shoulder to cry on, y un chismoso contigo (and a gossiper with you)—me encanta chismear contigo (I love to gossip with you).”

She giggled, and he smiled.

“I vow to be your equal in everything and give more than I take. I vow to always be there for you no matter what, in sickness and health, when life is easy and hard, I’ll stand by you and be your anchor.” The next one made his smile get bigger. “I vow to treat you like una reina (a queen) and be the best husband you could ask for so when you brag to your girlfriends, they can see their worth and deserve to be treated like queens, too. I vow to be the best father, one you can rely on, and doesn’t call watching my own children babysitting; I’ll pull my weight, I’ll never let you get overwhelmed, and I’ll be an active parent who loves our kids so fu-freaking much.”

“I vow to keep you safe and always make you feel safe; I’ll protect you and our children with my life. I vow to make sure all of your needs are met.” He smirked, glancing at her. “I vow to ‘fold laundry’ with you whenever you ask.” He winked, and she laughed.

“Why are adults so obsessed with laundry?” He heard Olivia ask.

“I’m wonderin’ the same thing, kiddo,” Robyn said. “I’m not obsessed with it.”

“Oh, believe me, you are,” Connie replied.

“I know the stars,” Javier said, “that astrology stuff you love, told you this already, but I want you to hear it from me, too: I vow to be loyal to you and faithful, always—to me, you are the only woman I see, or will ever want; I vow to put you and our family before all else.”

He looked at her with a smile. “I have some more things I’m gonna promise after hearing yours. I vow to always give you my pickles.” Her grin was big and happy as she giggled. “I vow to always let you sing Freddie Mercury’s parts in Bohemian Rhapsody while I do the guitar solo, and I’ll always leave you the last piece of cheesecake because I love you and value my life.” That made her giggle harder. “I vow to try, the keyword here is try, to not, as you put it, ‘creepily watch you while you sleep,’ even though you’re guilty of the same thing.” Her giggles transformed into laughter. “I vow to always dance with you when we’re cleaning the house and in the kitchen while we cook together. I vow to pretend—I mean, agree that you’re the best driver in Laredo and always know your way around, even when you don’t.”

There was a reason he drove them the majority of the time.

“Rude!” she gasped. “I’m an amazing driver!”

“I agree, mi amor, you’re the best in Laredo.” He winked again, folded his paper, and put it back in his inner pocket. He spoke as he took off his reading glasses. “There’s one more thing I vow,” he said, putting the lenses away. His hands were free and he grabbed hers, ignoring the tissue clenched in one of her palms, and stared adoringly into her eyes. “I vow that years from now—decades—after our kids are grown, and we’ve retired, maybe we’ll be living in Florida like other retirees, or we’ll still be here where our family lives and we made our best memories; I vow that when we’re old and grey and can’t hear or see shit without hearing aids or glasses, that we’ll look back on our life together, and we’ll have no regrets.

“Zero,” he said.

“We did everything we wanted and lived the life we shared to the fullest, filled with love, happiness, and laughter.”

Her shoulders started to shake, and she had to let go of his hand to blot at her eyes.

“Javier!” she cried, and he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close. “Why would you end with something so sweet?”

“Para que sepas cómo nuestro futuro será (So you know what our future together will be like). Quería que vieras que cuando me des ese anillo, te daré mi futuro y lo que venga después de eso (I wanted you to see that when you give me that ring, I’ll give you my future and whatever comes after that).”

She leaned back to look at him, and he was impressed that only her mascara had gotten messed up. She poked him in the chest and said, “That ring is going on your finger right this second.” Javier chuckled as her head turned to his dad. “Can we do the rings now, please?”

Chucho laughed. “Yes, Mija, you can do the rings. Who has them?” he asked aloud.

“Me!” Steve answered and moved to stand next to the older man, being careful not to bump Nate, who’d fallen asleep in the backpack carrier. At some point, the three-year-old Stevie had gone over to his mom and was now sitting in the grass next to her, eating Goldfish crackers out of a plastic baggy from the diaper bag near them. Steve untied the ribbon keeping the gold bands secured, then picked them both up, the pillow getting shoved under his arm. “Here, Jav.” Javier turned a little, holding out his palm to his friend, and her ring was set in it. He faced his bride again.

“At this time, they will exchange rings,” Chucho said, holding his bible in front of him with the notecard atop it. “Javier, go ahead and place it on her finger.” She looked adorably giddy, presenting her left hand to him, and he held it in his palm as he slid the band onto the finger with her engagement ring, pressing it against the other. “Now, repeat after me,” his dad said, reading his notes, “‘with this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving husband forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.”

Javier’s eyes fastened onto hers, and he repeated what his father said: “With this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving husband forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.” When he finished speaking, he lifted her hand to press his lips to the new addition on her finger with a kiss, keeping his gaze on her watery one.

“I love you,” she told him.

His thumb rubbed over the gold as he lowered her arm. “I love you, too.”

“Mija,” Chucho said, “it’s your turn.”

Javier held his hand out for her to take, and when she did, goosebumps rose on his skin, practically vibrating from anticipation. Her palm was smaller and softer than his, and he watched as Steve passed her the remaining ring. A big smile formed on his face at her not waiting for his father’s instruction, putting the band onto his finger immediately—it got stuck on his knuckle, and she had to wiggle it a little to finally slide it home.

“Repeat after me,” Chucho said, “‘with this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving wife forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.”

She held his larger palm in both of her smaller ones, gazing into his eyes and smiling as she said, “With this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving wife forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.”

His breath hitched as he watched her raise his hand to kiss the band, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

His father started speaking to them, “Now that you’ve proclaimed your love for one another and exchanged rings as a seal of the promises you made today in front of these witnesses and myself, by the power vested in me by the great State of Texas, I am so happy to pronounce you husband and wife! Javier, you may now kiss your bride!”

There was clapping and hollering, someone patted his back, and Javier didn’t waste any time—he was told he could finally kiss this stunning woman in front of him, who he loved more than anything; she completed him and made him happy like no one else—ella es su vida (she is his life), su amor (his love), su media naranja (his soulmate), finalmente su esposa (finally his wife), his Cielito.

The fingers of one of his hands traced over the familiar line of her jaw, the other pulling her tight to his chest, finding the fabric of her dress was as buttery soft as he suspected. The sun had barely sunk below the horizon, leaving the sky fiery in its wake, and as it descended, so did Javier’s mouth onto hers, crushing his lips to hers. At the first touch, it felt like electricity was thrumming just below his skin, his heart racing, the press of her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck making tingles wash down his spine.

It was almost like he was kissing her for the first time, and it started out gentle, wanting to savor this moment with his wife—his wife—they were married. He was a husband and wearing a ring, the metal currently pressed to the warm skin of her cheek. His excitement got the better of him, and he deepened the kiss, licking in her mouth, her soft moan causing arousal to erupt in his belly, feeling blood begin to rush to his groin. She seemed to be just as ravenous as him, their tongues tangling and her hands gripping handfuls of his hair.

Javier didn’t think he could be happier than he was at this moment.

This was the best day of his entire fucking life.

He was a married man with an amazing wife and their lives were intertwined now, becoming one they both shared. What wound him up even more was her taking his last name—not in a possessive way, but because it was another thing they’d share, and Javier wanted to share everything with her. Name, life, home, things, children, all of it, he wanted to have and with her by his side.

His dad’s voice showed amusement when he heard him speak. “We’ll just let them get that out of their system.” People laughed. “It’s my great pleasure to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Peña!”

Mr. and Mrs. Peña.

Nothing sounded more perfect.

They hadn’t stopped kissing, too caught up in each other.

“Why are they trying to eat each other’s faces?” Olivia asked, clearly confused.

Steve shouted, “Cover her eyes, Connie!”

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a/n: The song she walked down the aisle to was "Songbird" by Fleetwood Mac. The bible verse mentioned is Song of Solomon 8:6-7 (RSVCE).

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

#pedro pascal #javier peña #Javier Peña/reader #Javier Peña/you #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #wheresarizona writes #learning to live series

[luvtak]

wanting, hhj x reader

✧ genre/tw extreme lying in the grass with hyune on his birthday, major yearning alert, really dangerous fluff i am so sorry, i love yous and maybe a few pet names, unedited<3

✧ w/c 784

✧ this is very quick and mainly just a word dump, but i hope you like it! some sweet for the sweetest boys birthday... how lovely the first bit of spring comes with him

Sitting close this close to him you can smell the sunscreen mixing with his sweet cologne– the scent of warm weather days; springs and summers spent laying together just like this… glowing underneath the sun like two sleepy cats.  It’s funny to think that you’ve laid this way a hundred times in a hundred different ways, yet the novelty never wears. His long fingers swiping their way down your arm, reaching around your wrist and holding tightly. This close he can feel your heartbeat all around him, your chest pressed right into his and the rapid thump coming from his hold around your bracelet. Even after all this time, you still get so nervous being with him, the familiarity of his love swirling in your chest and your stomach–creating shaky hands and warm cheeks. 

Hyunjin’s eyes are peering down at you, striking you down with the strength of it. He’s so happy, springtime brightening his complexion with the shiniest smile you’ve ever seen, happiness leaping off of him. The warm blush settling along his cheekbones, the same color of the blossoms above you, creates a brilliant desire to heat up in you. Not a physical desire, not the disastrous need of nights past, but a fire of want… days spent waking up together and kissing goodnight, pictures and paintings, shared nightstand novels.

It’s ridiculous, you have him already– your hearts are tied together with twine; shared myocardium morphing into one beautiful beating thing– yet you don’t think you could ever stop yourself from wanting more. That wishing ache for him to be with you, too see him like a mirror to your own soul. 

He told you once that being with you was like a shower of cold mist on a hot day. You remember laughing, giggling at the unexpected confession for an early morning, but you see now. This unexpected pain for loving and needing and wanting someone so much, the biting incredulity of seeing someone. 

This close, both can see the evidence of the human condition wearing on each others faces, but Hyunjin has never been fonder of sun scars or smile lines–he loves you and he tells you with the blossomed trees as his witnesses. 

“I love you too, Hyune.” you say, quietly though you’re alone, and his grin is a lesson in heartbreak; so lovely, like a supernova. 

He never thought he could love springtime so much, had always been accustomed to fall and the icy cold weather of winter, but lying here with you he thinks spring might be his favorite. Seeing you and the flowers alight into living breathing blooms takes his breath away, makes him reach for his pencils and his paints. In the week alone he’s amassed several pictures of you, all beautiful, but none right. It’s the only reason he resents his love for you, so big and blinding, that no matter how exact the portrait is, it’s still missing that fundamental gleam you hold. 

“When we get home, can I paint you again?” The question while posed so sweetly makes you groan, if it wasn’t his birthday there’d be no way you’d sit for him another time. And yet, you can’t deny how special he is–the only thing he wanted today was to spend it with you, cake and presents optional. 

It’s this magic that makes you agree, and you can’t deny the excitement of seeing him work. Ever focused and hard working, Hyunjin’s world stopping even while in messy clothes and tied up hair. Seeing him paint made you fall in love with him; the sight of his color covered hands and his clear gaze over his canvas, looking over at you to smile… god you were doomed for him then. 

His stare turns to the clouds now, smile still lilting as he speaks, “i’m painting you right now actually,” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Sometimes in my head I look at you, and I feel the need for a pencil or a brush. I see what colors I would use, how I would blend them together to get the exact shade for your eyes… I’m doing it now.” 

It’s such a Hyunjin thing to say, yet the truth of it shocks you–what a beautiful boy he is, a rare and lovely find. Grinning like he knows he’s wooing you, staring up at the maya blue sky and painting a picture in his head. 

“I really do love you, Hyune.” you tell him, and the strength of it turns his head. Lighting his eyes with a fondness made for spring, rising slightly to settle his lips over your forehead before replying earnestly with every bit of truth in his heart, 

“I love you too.”

© LUVTAK

#hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #skz #stray kids #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines

[acheronist]

to the ghost of henry peglar, congrats on writing your poem down 177 years ago!!!

to the actual academic scholars who have studied the pages before me....

so I took the royal museum greenwich's scan of the poem page (which is available online hereeee) and screwed around with its light levels in photoshop until henry's script was darkened enough to see more clearly. then I digitally traced over the darkened letters as best as I could, while also trying to discern his handwriting, and type up how I was reading it & this process took me about a week to get done between like... living my regular day to day life lmao.......

so when it WAS done, the final isabel acheronist peglar papers ["the open C"] transcript seemed a bit different than how I remembered the readily available russell potter transcript going ? (the poem is on the last two pages of that pdf for those of you who don't spend a billion hours a week looking at it btw)

it felt like I was getting more/different information out of it, compared to the potter transcript, which was kind of stressing me out honestly. so THEN I compared mine with barry cornwall's original poem and found more words that matched up? particularly in the second and third stanzas?

so!!!!! almost two hundred years later here's what I've landed on:

April 21 1847 the C the C the open ) ( it grew so fresh the Ever free the Ever free the Ever free without it without it covered it will Run to Earth above Re gions Round I love the C I love the C when I whare & I wish to be with and and silence whare Never go if a sailor should a Come and Make the meek What matter what matter Come Ride Or Sleep there was shores white and of red morn at the noisy hours knew I was ever near I was Born the [...] in felt Unto the Maid the wale the young dolphin ...... yet thes back of gold the Call of gods When I was on Old England Shore I like the young C more and more oftentimes time flew to a sweltering place like a bird thats seeks it mother Case and ware she was bird oft to me for have I loved a young and Hopen C

so then after going thru All Of That, I wanted to have a version of the original poem with parts that Henry did remember clearly highlighted for comparison purposes:

I know it's a popular theory that Henry was writing a dirty parody of the original poem? which if true, is funny as hell. me when i have to write cheeky victorian porn before i die.

But (serious voice) something about that hadn't ever seemed exactly right to me... IN MY HEART it seems more realistic that around 1847 he (and also by extension, the whole surviving expedition crew) were starting to experience confusion / brain fog symptoms from being ummmm quite physically unwell. the lead poisoning/scurvy combo would have severe effects on the brain's ability to function properly, and I started to wonder if Henry was trying to test his memory somehow? So he picked a widely known and popular Victorian era poem about being a sailor to see how much he could recall??? and he then got a little whimsical with it, and wrote in his own words to fill in the portions he couldn't fully recall, because it's his own diary and likely didn't expect anyone else to ever read it, much less have it turn into ONE of TWO surviving sources about the expedition?????

like... idk... this is probably the work of someone in the exact moment as they were starting to realize how bad things were, and then was trying to cope by using poetry. and That hurts my feelings enough as it is, but going through it was also just a very weird and haunting experience....... like, I can recognize all these tiny details in this dead guy's script and handwriting now. and to read his own account of his life in his own words, what stood out to him and what he recalled, what he wanted people in the future to know about him? insane. it literally felt like i was getting haunted by him for no reason. on top of knowing that Someone (#teamarmitage) loved this guy enough to keep his memory protected and safe, even though They Were So Totally Fucked And Going To Die There, unknowing if they'd ever be found again........

SIGHING + SIGHING + SIGHING + SIGHING + CRYING A BIT HONESTLY

anyways thanks for reading this all. I don't think that this is revolutionary franklin expedition news by any means, and idk if there's a better different transcript somewhere that i've not found that already covers all this? but it's consumed a lot of my life lately lol and i wanted to share. because its the anniversary of henry writing it, and it felt...... important....? 💌....????

#📜 #henry peglar #this is my crazy person post i wanted to make two weeks ago #i really did do my best to follow his hand btw but let's all read this expecting a few mistakes #franklin expedition #peglar papers

[jaylver]

CINDY LOU WHO — P.SH

synopsis: christmas came early with a heartbreak as your present when you found out your boyfriend had fallen out of love with you. the boy that you loved is now in love with someone else, a new girl who managed to make him believe in love the way cindy-lou made grinch believe in christmas.

pairings: non-idol!sunghoon x afab!reader

genre: lovers to exes, break up au, angst

warning(s): underlying hints of cheating/unfaithfulness

wc: 731

a/n: when i said i was planning a depressive december ... i was not lying. hoping everyone is enjoying the festive season! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

Festive season hasn't been feeling the same ever since your boyfriend returned from his trip.

Sunghoon had been off somewhere in the desert with his friends as a getaway before Christmas. At first, you thought it was funny that he was going somewhere with the opposite season compared to where you were now. But the moment you noticed a change in him once he returned home, you figured things weren't about to be the same.

It shouldn’t be this hard to communicate and interact with him, but why was he acting like a stranger to you now? You had to bug him for ages to let him see pictures he took from the trip, that alone was enough to tell you something had shifted in the air. On the couch that night, it was probably only you that was enjoying your time as you swiped through the pictures, many were with his usual guy friends you already knew. 

However, there was one that specifically caught your eyes. There in one of his pictures was a girl laughing.

A girl amongst the group, odd wasn’t it? She was sitting closely next to your boyfriend. Repeat, your boyfriend. You couldn’t recognise who she was, nor could you recall meeting her in the past. Sunghoon must’ve noticed you staring too long and pausing on that specific picture, so he tried to explain despite your heart breaking into pieces, saying it was a girl they met on the trip and there was nothing more. 

To him, he claimed it was just ‘a girl’, but you knew there was more to that, and you weren’t trying to be a paranoid crazy girlfriend. You couldn’t sleep that night, sitting wide awake in your living room couch, the same exact spot where you had seen the pictures earlier. Was she the reason he’s been acting off around you? Had she casted a spell on him while he was there? Why him?

Maybe he met her somewhere in the desert. He was soul searching and found someone better. Did she make him happy like you couldn’t do? Or even worse, would she be the one with his ring on her finger? There’s red and green everywhere, but God, you were so blue.

“Let’s break up.” 

The timing was just perfect. Two weeks before Christmas day, and right before your annual trip back to his family’s house to celebrate Christmas with his family. He was cruel, a little too cruel for breaking your heart at this time. ‘Tis the season, you guess. 

Of course he would fall in love with her, you understood that almost at once when you saw her posts on social media. With her hair so long, lips so red, she was a dream anyone would wish to have. She was also the total opposite of you, that was what you noted as you scrolled five years back in her profile. You felt like a joke. 

Just thinking about the fact that she’d be doing the exact same thing you did the past five years this festive season has you crumbling inside out. You bet she’d wake up in his old bed at his family’s house, ready to celebrate Christmas, while you sat in your home all alone wondering what went wrong. 

The snow’s going to fall and the tree’s going to glisten. Everywhere around you was in a high, happy atmosphere, but you couldn’t seem to feel the same. All you knew was you’d puke at the thought of her kissing the boy who you once loved, the one who was in love with someone else. 

Even after breaking the news to all your friends, they said it couldn’t be true, and you thought it was funny, that they were much more in denial than you were. They tried to console you by putting on How the Grinch Stole Christmas, huddling together under a large blanket with snacks on the side, but you could only think of how she reminded you of Cindy-Lou. 

Cindy-lou showed the Grinch the real meaning of Christmas just as she had shown Sunghoon true love. Maybe all along he had never wanted to commit to you, and he had found something more in her. You should be happy now that your friends were around, but you were feeling the exact opposite. Everything reminded you of him and her both.

Cindy-lou, who?

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

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#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smau #enhypen soft hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen sunghoon #enha #engene #sunghoon #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon #sunghoon drabbles #sunghoon headcanons #sunghoon au #enhypen au #enhypen oneshots #enhypen angst #sunghoon fanfic #jay enhypen #enhypen jay

[xiaosonlybeloved]

7 Minutes in Heaven- Gojo Satoru

featuring:- Gojo Satoru x fem!reader, Shoko, Utahime, Geto, Nanami tags:- fluff, y/n and gojo being absolute lovesick idiots, dumb and cringy pickup lines, kisses a/n:- again, i apologise for the cringe but your wishes have been fulfilled. i swear, next time it REALLY will be angst. Also this was based of a req i got on my main haha

wc:- 2k || masterlists

Shoko and Utahime were dragged by you into a nearby room, the door shutting behind them forcefully. “Guys you can’t literally be serious.” You exclaimed. Shoko yawned as she said, “It’s literally just a game, [Y/N]. Relax, you’re getting all worked up for nothing.” You looked at her in sheer disbelief as you whisper-shouted “But he’s here too! What if we- god forbid- get paired?” Utahime chuckled at your nervousness as she put an arm around your shoulder and said, “Well, that’s a great opportunity for you, isn’t it? I mean, no offence [Y/N, you’re my best friend and I love you, but you are driving me crazy with all your rambling about Gojo. Like, I get it, you like him, please go and confess.” She sighed. You were about to retort with a denial before a series of soft knocks sounded on the door. “Are you guys there? We’re waiting, if you’re ready.” Geto’s ever-calm voice came from the other side of the door. Shoko immediately responded with a “Yup, just [Y/N] being silly.”

The room to be used for the game had been appropriately darkened and set up. Nanami was working on the chits they’d used to select the two people for 7 minutes in heaven when they re-entered the living room. You released your breath in relief. Nanami was the most trustworthy in the group, and there was definitely no chance of rigging the chits. You know that if it was anyone else, probably all the chits would be filled with your and Gojo’s name.

Yeah, you have no idea how it even came about in the first place, but you had developed a terrible crush on one of your best friends, Gojo Satoru. Every moment you spent with him casually just made it worsen, as you noticed more and more things about him- the small twinkle in his eyes when he was up to some mischief, the assured self-confidence in his grin, the way his demeanor softened a bit on seeing all of you, and so much more. Even worse for you, you believed that he would never reciprocate, leading you to rant about it to your best friends, lovesick. (To the point that they consulted Geto and Nanami about it without your knowledge, only to find that those two were facing the exact same problem. Safe to say, Nanami was even more pissed than usual by Gojo.)

You’re brought back to the present from your daydreams by Geto calling out, “Hey, could you and Gojo please get the timer and some snacks from the storeroom? It’s gonna be a while.” You swallowed a bit as you nodded, “Yeah sure.” ,walking towards the said location with Satoru close behind you. 

It took the both of you some time to find the timer, which had been buried in some box somewhere, and you couldn’t help but feel that it was on purpose. By the time you two came back, the others were ready with the chits and waiting impatiently for you. “Took you long enough.” Utahime grumbled as she grabbed the snacks from you without bothering to ask nicely, passing over some packets to the others. There was only one bowl with all your names, ‘to make it more interesting’. 

The chips and cakes and drinks were passed around as Nanami drew the first two chits- Him and Geto. He shrugged as if bored already, as he followed Geto into the designated room. From beside you, Gojo groaned that this was a waste of time because absolutely nothing would happen between those two, as he impatiently tapped his foot- another thing you’d noticed about him. To while away the seven minutes, you put on some of your favorite songs, the others beside you perking up as they recognised their all time favorite artist. (im listening to taylor rn lmao)  At the end of the time, you guys noiselessly padded over the carpets and barged into the room to find both of them- asleep. 

You merely deadpan at the sight while Satoru instantly ran over to Nanamin and grabbed his arm to pull him up, the said man spewing a string of curses at the sudden disturbance, Shoko doing the same with Geto. Then Nanami pulled the next two chits, and your heart sinked as he first called out your name then, “..Geto?” 

Everyone at the table simultaneously frowned as Geto leaned over to look at the chit. “...That’s literally Gojo in my cursive handwriting.” Frowning, you grab the chit from Nanamin to confirm, and indeed it was Gojo’s name written on it. Geto leaned back in his chair, unimpressed at his friends’ inability to read his writing, while you weren’t sure whether to be happy or upset that you’d be locked in a room with your long-time crush. 

“Well, let’s go now, the seven minutes are ticking away!” Satoru laughs as he pulls you gently into the designated room by the wrist. Utahime and Geto cheerfully call out “Good luck!” and you swear you can see everyone sigh with relief.

You take a deep breath and walk through the door Satoru is chivalrously holding open for you with a grin, and Satoru follows as the door is locked from outside. But just a moment later, he trips and falls. He quickly gets up though, as he looks at you and says, “Hey, do you have a bandaid? Cause I scraped my knee falling for you.” 

You blink at him, once, twice, till you start laughing. He pouts, upset. “That’s so rude of you [N/N]!” You respond with “You should tie your shoelaces- I don’t want you falling for anyone else.” Now its Satoru’s turn to be flabbergasted, and you’re sure both your friends would be highly disappointed with your cringy as hell pick-up lines, but hey, atleast you’re not nervous anymore. “You don’t need to worry, cause I was enchanted to meet you. Still am, by the way.”

Your smile turns sad as the reality of the situation sinks in. Satoru was probably just using these to while away the time, and the fact that you really were in love with him didn’t help. “Satoru, I think we should stop now, because it hurts to know that you don’t really mean any of this.” “But I do!” Satoru protested vehemently. You turned away from him to face the wall. “Stop joking, please. Fine, I’ll admit it. I really like you Toru, and I wanna be more than just friends with you but I know you don’t feel the same. Still, its not nice of you to play with my heart like that.”

A beat of silence, then another, and suddenly you’re scared that you’ve ruined everything that was between you- friendship or more. 

And then you feel Satoru hugging you from behind, as you freeze up. You think you might just malfunction, because the Gojo Satoru just kissed you on the cheek with a lopsided smile. “Now now, who gave you the impression that I didn’t like you back? If anything, I thought that my feelings weren’t returned.”

You spin around in his embrace, shocked. Mistake, you realise, because your faces are so close to each other now, that if either of you leant forward a bit, you’d be kissing. “Are you being serious right now?” You whisper. “For once, yes, I’m being dead serious. But since we both like each other, can we just skip the formalities and kiss? Because right now, you’re the one torturing me with this proximity.” Satoru replies back, fully serious, and it makes you laugh a little as you finally, finally, pull his pretty face towards yours to kiss him like you’ve been longing to all this time. 

Satoru immediately responds in kind, and you’re not quite sure how much time passes while you two are lost in each other, but eventually Satoru pulls away a bit, and you frown at the loss of contact. After a moment, you hesitantly say, “..Well? What do we do now?” At this, Satoru smirks as he fully pulls away. “Of course, we go back to acting like we did before. Let’s make our dearest friends think their genius ploy to get us together has miserably failed. I always love a good prank, and this’ll be one of the best.” 

Again, you can’t help but chuckle at this. “So you suspected something was up? Yeah, me too. What I’m wondering is how they convinced Nanamin to join in. I genuinely didn’t think Nanami would ever do something like this.” “Remember when we all went to see Geto and him? I bet that at that time, Shoko and Utahime switched up the bowl of chits. That's like the only way possible.” “Nanami must still have been in on it though.”

“The seven minutes are almost up, I think. Right, so I’m gonna go to this wall and you go there, and we’ll pretend we haven’t been talking much. I can bet you they’re eavesdropping on us even right now, but I know from experience that its very hard to actually make the words out. So basically, they won’t know shit.” Amused, you go along with his plan. Except that now its actually embarrassing to act the way you used to, all lovesick at the mere sight of him, and you think he feels the same way from the way he’s blushing slightly.

A minute or two passes, and you’d think it was incredibly awkward, but its actually funny by the way Satoru keeps grinning at you, or says even more dumb pick up lines occasionally. Suddenly, the door bursts open, as if your friends are hoping to catch you in the middle of some heinous act. Imagine their sheer disappointment to see the scene in front of them.

Utahime stomps over to you as you rush out of the room, the way you would have done a day ago. “Well?” she demands forcefully. “Did anything happen?” 

Its so very hard to keep a poker face at her furious expression on hearing the blunt “No.” from you. She mutters something before proceeding to strangle Geto, who was strangling Gojo. Your and Satoru’s eyes meet, and you almost crack up at the mischief sparkling in his eyes- another thing about him that made you fall in love.

Oh well. You’re sure your friends will find out soon, but for now its highly entertaining to watch them at their wit’s end. You smile at Satoru when no one’s looking, and he sends a wink your way.

Bonus:-

Lessons had ended, and Satoru, being the gentleman that he is, came to fetch you from the class. The others were nowhere to be seen, and taking advantage of the moment, Satoru decided to kiss you- no one is here after all. 

Unfortunately, you lose track of time as a screech resounds in the empty and silent class. You two jump away from each other, startled and guilty as charged, while your friends stand at the entrance of the classroom with a betrayed look on their faces. The two parties just stare at each other till Geto finally, slowly asks, “How long?”

You sheepishly respond with the truth, and the look of shock on is just priceless. You sigh internally- Your friends are something, and your now-boyfriend is an entirely different kind of something.

Satoru sticks out his tongue at them before kissing you again, on the cheek this time.

Cue Nanami strangling Gojo. (They all gag, but they’re very relieved.)

Reblogs, Votes and comments are very much appreciated <33

#skylia's works #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jjk fluff #shoko ieiri #nanami kento #geto suguru #utahime #gojo satoru fluff #gojo x reader fluff #satoru gojo x reader

[noacfapologyst]

birthday wish - matty healy

(the birthday party; day one)

summary: matty, as his very best, has one of the best birthdays of his life and receives one of the warmest surprises he has ever had, with all the people he loves.

warnings: flufly stuff, sickness mentions. nothing more than this, is tender as well.

a/n: thank to @abiiors and @the1975attheirverybest for organize this incredible project! both are such an angels. the dates do not coincide in reality, so do not expect truthfulness in it, 'cause the tour continues in this universe and there are no haircuts, and also the english is not my first language.

wordcounter: 5,1k

Matty wants you to be with him at the exact time when the clock strikes midnight. It doesn't matter if you're an ocean away, just wait to hear you sing her happy birthday.

He knows that even if he wants you to, you can't come out the door. This shouldn't make him sad because it's something he's been facing for years.

You work for the UK's most influential finance company, and while the insistence on doing the work outside has been almost unbearable, Matty knows that you love being in your office or doing the work in the house where you both live together. God, that sounds good.

Officially he's a year older, and without wanting to touch sentimentality, he just feels tired when he rests his head on the white pillow in the hotel room. He doesn't look at his phone screen for a long time, just think about how you're going through the flu that kept you from coming with him to New York.

In the meantime, you have other plans that doesn't involve fever, soup, and phlegm.

You look at your phone screen, you know it's past 12 in New York, so Matty is oficially 35 years old.

It's four in the morning in England, and once again you confirm how much you hate such an abysmal difference in schedules. You could call him now and tell him you still have the flu, but he'd end up figuring out the trick.

Maybe when it's six o'clock in the morning you can greet him with more credibility.

For now, you finish arranging the house and the final touches before taking the suitcase as you sigh out of the house.

--

"Honeeeeeeeeey" Matty literally jumps into bed making them both jump. You rub your forehead and he gives you an innocent smile. It's not an argument at all, but he's gone dumb. "Come on, fly with me to York.

"Matty, I can't." You straighten up on the mattress, giving it room to rest its head on your trunk. "I would love to go, but it's impossible." You wrap your fingers around her hair and massage it into circles. You hear him purr like he's been waiting for him all day. "I have a lot of work, we have like fifty new clients or something like that. I can't apart myself from the company, i really sorry."

"I'm not saying you get apart, you still can work through your computer." He turns to see you with a pretty sad look in his features. "I don't want to be annoying, it's just…it will be my birthday. The first with you as my girlfriend."

"Hey, i can't even say how much i'm sorry, but i really do." You grab his right hand and squeeze his, on your way to kiss his head a desperate fit of coughing interrupts you. "Shit, I'm ill."

It doesn't sound so convincing, but if all goes well, an idea begins to form in your head that might consecrate you as bride of the year.

"But hey, babe, I'm going to reward you when you return. I promise." You see him unravel at your touch, watching him as he indulges in sleep. While he is awake closing his eyes, you whisper into his ear. "You're going to have an incredible birthday, Matty."

- - -

Even though spring has been running through London for over a month, the dawn suddenly turns cold. Not only because you got sick in the course of two days, (even if you did it on purpose and forced yourself to sneeze around the corners), but also because everything feels a little tense in your room. Matty's not mad, obviously he knows he can't get you out of the country in the middle of a flu outbreak let alone by force, but he's pretty sad about getting used to the idea of spending his birthday away from you. It's satirical to him, they've officially been together for nine months, but you've spent more birthdays near him than it looks. By chance or fate, they were always in the same bars or pubs where they celebrated their years of life.

What's ironic, too, is that they met after a financial argument. It was 2017, you were relatively new to the company and Dirty Hit needed a safe backing, betting on the company you still work for. At first there were no complaints, until a money leak was triggered and backing the company you basically went to the studio to talk to Jamie in pretty strong terms.

In the end, there were no dead to bury, everything worked out. What you did bury was your washing soap shirt, thanks to Matty literally spilled his coffee machine on you when you were about to leave. It wasn't a good day for anyone, your folders just fell off and picking them up you bumped into Matty, in a semi-sleeping state with coffee running over your skin and a cheap apology as he opened his eyes surprised enough. Then it just happened for some reason, they both found fun in the same places. It was too many years of seeing each other at nightclubs maybe four times a year, saying hello from afar and going on, until a year and a few months ago they needed an insurance upgrade, which gave you another visit to Dirty Hit, no spilled coffee this time.

Matty asked for your number, then he bought you a drink, and here they are, saying goodbye to each other.

"Hey listen, call my mom if you feel bad or if you need something. At least promise me this." Kiss your head as they both walk towards the front door, you wrapped in a blanket and him between bags and suitcases.

"I'll do." You reassure him with a broad smile. "Stay safe, love you."

"See you soon, love." You and him kiss quickly as he presses his thumb on your cheek. "Love you, too."

"Matty."

"¿Yes"

"You're forgetting something, dude." You unlock your chain with a small white stone hanging, to lock it around her neck later. "Now it's okay." You steal a hug and when they finally part, the taxi comes to the door. "Bye."

"Bye." He greets you with hishand and throws the first accessory he has at hand, his bracelet.

You hate to say goodbye to him when he goes to the airport, and even though you'll see him in two days, you still hate him. You're so used to waking up with him, having its scent all over the house, that when that bubble disappears, you hate what it's created at some point. It hasn't been five minutes and you miss him like you haven't seen him in months.

You squeeze his bracelet. It's their little tradition. Every time one goes on a journey, both exchange accessories in a way to show the other that they are still there even at a distance. You don't remember when it started, but you like the sentimentality of the issue.

Now, of course Matty's right: you'll call Denise. You already have, actually. She's aware of all the deception and she's the one who's most excited about it. He talked to Tom and Louis while you talked to Adam, because he's the least likely to reveal it to your boyfriend. It's not that you don't trust others, it's just that he's wiser for this.

- - -

You touch your head down because actually if you feel sick, maybe you've been too extreme, but you hope it's worth it. Denise calls on your portal with the car horn pulling you out of the trance, you get in the car and when you want to say something else you just fall asleep in the backseat.

Half an hour later, she wakes you up gently rocking you. She's so much like Matty you could cry, you love everything her family is and how you've been treated from the first day you walked through that door. Even if she's your mother-in-law, they get along incredibly well considering how fast they've connected.

"Are you sure about this?" She asks, handing over the car keys and lowering the suitcases from the trunk. "I mean, you look really tired."

"I know, I know. I spend the day thinking if i had everything, and thinking about the gift, and trying to organize the things with Adam, meanwhile i tried to not being colapsed by the numbers." The two laugh, she looks at you with a more relaxed expression and just lets her walls fall down.

"Matty is so lucky to have you." She murmurs with bright eyes and genuine happiness. "I don't know if I've ever met someone capable of getting sick just for surpise his boyfriend in his birthday…on the other side of the world." You think she's about to get emocional when her eyes start stinging, and she notices it. "I get a bit emotional but you know, my son is growing up next to someone who truly loves him, and as a mother you don't know how important it is to know that."

Well, now you'll cry.

"Oh god, I love you Denise." You drop your bags and embrace her with the greatest affection you've ever had. "I'll might cry."

She laughs tenderly. "Keep the tears for the show, darling."

----

The belief that it would be a seven-hour flight (plus the check-in hours, obviously) that would be somewhat exhausting and that it would take time to pass becomes part lie and part truth. You actually have a lot of fun with Denise telling you anecdotes of her life in the span of waiting time to board, you can't lie, but then on the plane you start to get bored after a few hours: you've seen a movie, you've slept, you've saturated your Spotify and you only think about how Matty will be. You feel guilty about the birthday message because you know he'll be worried thinking that something is up, but later you'll ask for forgiveness.

Happy birthdayy Matty. I love you so much, i hope you ́ll always be happy.

This is too short, but i feel totally sick. I'll send you a large text later.

Matty tosses and turns in bed heavily after waking up with that message as his first course. He sighs as he goes to the bathroom, looks at himself in the mirror running a hand through his hair. It feels terrible.

Well, you haven't forgotten his birthday, but he feels that you have. Maybe it's not that.

He knows you don't like him smoking too much, but you're not here and it's the only thing keeping him sane so he doesn't yell at you if he's done something wrong. He opens the window and collapses on the balcony floor, a cigarette between his lips. He exhales, he can't believe he's spending the time like that on his birthday.

He feels like he has a dagger stuck somewhere in his body, he feels tense and knows he's not in the bliss mode that someone should have on their birthday. But God, he hates to blame himself and blame you for things.

You've been weird for days, and yes, maybe you're sick, but in the months you´ve been with him you've never been this weird. Overthinking things isn't something he likes or does too much, but now he's debating whether something has happened and you don't want to tell him. He exhales again and relapses into the state of his cuticles, but as a cumpulsive reflex he bites them. Has he done something wrong? Has he crossed any limits? Did you get angry about something he didn't do? Did he forgot your birthday? No, he hasn't forgotten that.

Trata de no permitirse pensar en la pregunta más dolorosa para él: ¿Hay alguien más? ¿Estás cansado de él y de su vida de poca estabilidad? Bueno, en cualquier caso te merecerías algo mejor.

Adam knocks on the door as an answer to problems. He knows he has to take care of him until you make your appearance, but everyone is aware that he may not be in his best mood.

"Hey, birthday boy, how did you wake up?" When Matty opens the door, he hugs him and Adam knows his best friend needs him. "Matty, tell me."

"It's just…No, it's a silly thing." He regrets it fluttering his eyes, but collapses on the bed tiredly. "I'm tired, that's all."

"No, it's not. Something is affecting you, so definitely there is something more than being tired. You dońt have to fake it with me, you know." Adam knows the reason why he is like this, and although he wants to tell him that she's really on her way, he can't.

"It's her, Adam. She ́s been in a distant mode for days, acting strange." He shrugs, Adam sits on the other end of the mattress, sinking it. "Her greeting was a bit cold, or too generic. It's not typycal for her.

Adam feels really bad lying to his friend, he feels like a traitor, and he really struggles to find the right words. "Didn't you tell me she was sick?" He asks, and Matty sighs, nodding. "Should be this."

"yes, but.."

"Listen to me, really." Adam cuts him off and thinks about how much he can take this like this, he can't allow his partner to collapse before the show, much less the surprise. "She loves you, i d on't know the reason for his behavior and I would love to know so I can tell you, but unfortunately I don't know." Guilty, liar. "Despite that, you just turned 35, it's too early for the midlife crisis for a congratulation. The day is not over yet

Matty slurps as he swallows without the strength to continue the conversation, not in this tone at least. He doesn't have any argument to play in his favor and that makes him a little angry.

"You have a birthday show tonight, it will be nice."

- - -

Madison Square Garden will never cease to amaze you and seem practically huge. You do not manage to make the connection between the measures of the venue, it seems much bigger than it is. You have entered more than once, both as a spectator of shows or as you are now, as an accompanist of the band that presents on the day, and still it leaves you breathless how massive it is. Not in your best dreams would you imagine having the chance to tour it.

But, what makes you more sensitive is to hear so many people divided into the branches and sections of the seats and the standing field cheering, shouting and even crying with a euphoric amount of adrenaline in the body by the celestial and pink lights that illuminate the stage, decorated in its scenography representing a house with all the rooms. It's still hard for you to believe that you're dating the lead singer of a band that has mobilized so many people around the world for years. They have come to see the four of them, they have come to hear what is the story they have to tell and to show them their affection and loyalty as they identify themselves in tears in the four chords of their best songs.

In a way you think that's everything a singer expects, and that by the same token, it's the most sincere reason for the fans in front of Matty's birthday. Because even though you don't spend too much time on the floor, you manage to see posters related to her birthday.

The whole Healy family, followed by you, take refuge in George and Adam's dressing rooms, because even if you came out of a cake in Matty's dressing room when the delivery changes, you'd lose the idea you planned. Now, you just hope Matty doesn't find it weird enough that they switched The Birthday Party to Act 3, and Guys is almost after. I wouldn't have to do that, in fact, since it's a pretty emotional and pretty setlist to play on your birthday.

When Matty's nightmare act ends and he descends from the second stage you try to make as little noise as possible next to his dressing room, mainly because you're going to scare him. The one you're scaring is George, but he's covering it up by saying there was a spider in his dressing room. Then with a thumb sign him shows that everything is ready for the next step. When the act of Still at their very best (the last of the show) begins with If you ́re too shy, you get ready, two songs later you have to get the whole audience to see you, but not Matty.

Then, It ́s not living reaches the middle with a consecrated closure between the drums and the guitar. Cheers fill the place. The action then begins when all the screens change focus and signs appear saying that, in front of the people you will see now, keep quiet because it is a surprise for both Matty and the fans. There are confused looks, intertwined, nobody understands anything but they keep singing so as not to show that the screens have changed again.

The crowd wants to go crazy, and some screams escape when it's you who's seen go behind the scenes. For the sake of greater care, you go behind George's drums and ask everyone with your fingers to be silent on the subject. You sit behind the biggest drum and you see it over your head.

There he is, dressed up in his black pants, his white shirt and previously the suit jacket with the pants. His tie's almost untied, and it makes you laugh, you don't think he knows he tied it wrong. The curls fall in front of him out of control due to tiredness and sweat, but you think he's never looked better in years.

"Thanks for coming to see the greatest band in the world, the 1975!" The sticks resonate on the drum, the play of grey lights makes everything a little psychedelic. The crowd bursts into cheers without differentiating the why. "And today it's my birthday, so thank you for coming here. I love you guys."

There's a mixture of exasperated emotions all over the compound. Even you have glassy eyes to see him smile in such a pure way, his place has always been and always will be the stage in front of the fans, when he is freer than ever and where he feels comfortable. This particular show is not just important because of this event, but because in fact, it's the end of the tour. It's emotionally sad, the melancholy is reciprocal in the stadium because nobody knows when there will be a new tour of them.

"Yeah, I know, this is sad. It ́s ironic that my birthday will be the last show of the tour." He grins and laughs showing his teeth to the audience. "But, thanks for being here, is my biggest gift."

So, Matty freaks out when he hears a noise behind him.

"And it's not over yet, friend of mine." Absolutely everyone is surprised to hear George through the microphone resonating in the stadium, Matty doesn't understand what's going on either. "Ladies and gentleman, please everybody look at the screen."

What happens next is the best and the worst that Matty has had in front of him, cataloging it as the worst because when pictures of him appear when he was little with his mother and father, playing guitar or just being a kid, it makes him wiggle and feel like he could really die right there from the excitement. Without looking away, dazzled and uncertain but motivated to keep seeing him, he sits on the edge of the stage.

The atmosphere is automatically warm, but even the noise does not break it. The screen now changes, and begins with a greeting from George, pointing to a picture of when they were 13, how they have grown up so far and how you can't imagine a life without him, then closes Charly telling how much she enjoys talking to him, and how much fun he is in any situation. Then comes Adam, along with Carly, telling how he is the youngest of the group, but how important he is for both of them in their lives. Finally there is Ross, who talks about how fortunate he is to have him as a friend, how proud he is of everything he has accomplished and how much he appreciates his friendship.

Screen in black. Matty takes care of the tears because he suspects it doesn't end there, but his eyes turn to candy, all his factions calm down and he refrains from leaping into the arms of his friends.

You can't tell how many, but suddenly fans appear in the video, talking about how they've saved their lives through the band, the refuge it's for them and how much the band has done in terms of connecting them with their closest friends, and giving them a reason to keep fighting. Everyone laughs when they hear the reactions of the fans appearing in the video, realizing it.

Now yes, everything seems to indicate that it's over. Matty tries to stand up, but something stops him.

Her mother. On the screen.

Satirically, her greeting begins by asking if she thought they had forgotten about her, but without giving any room to react, Louis and Tom appear on the screen, their entire family in one place.

Really, Matty feels like the luckiest person in the world to have so much affection around him, he doesn't know if he deserves it, but he accepts it and feels like the feeling of familiarity and brotherhood envelops his body as his brother and his parents talk about how he's changed everyone's lives, the support he's been in his brother's life, and how the little boy who played the guitar off-tune at four o'clock in the afternoon has become a man made and upright, able to love and defend his people, with a exemplary talent.

Matty blinks, doesn't know how to go on now. He simply knows that he cannot ask for anything else for his life, he is loved by those he loves, and is reciprocated.

The screen lights up for the last time. You and Mayhem.

You look the at George, who cries just like you. He notices your gaze but responds only with a quick smile.

"Hey, honey, this will be short because I hope you know how happy I am to have you in my life." Matty stops controlling the tears, bathes in them, his shirt is full of water right now. So he remembers your message today, and he knows that you were behind all this, no one else would have done it this way otherwise. He sees his dog move his front legs and really misses him: "Happy birthday, I love you more than my words can prove. Thank you for being the most amazing, sweetest human being I've ever met. You're an angel and I love to agree with you." The greeting ends when you send a kiss to the camera, followed by Mayhem's osico in the foreground with a heart, with an M drawn.

The legend of The End stands on top. Everyone has cried, the makeup has gone off but this is the most intimate thing that everyone has experienced today. Everybody's grateful for coming to celebrate Matty.

"Could you please close your eyes?" Adam asks, and Matty is not the one who could say no.

Matty continues sitting, not moving. He can't process everything his head is telling him miles per second. He knows that he can't speak well enough after crying and will only say silly phrases, But it has to. Ross comes to his rescue and has a hand to lift him up. They hug with Matty crying on his shoulder while continuing to repeat that she loves him. Ross pats him on the back and points to Adam on the microphone.

He smells something as smoke, and he's right. Behind the scenes of the three entrances appear his mother, his father and Louis beside him with a rectangular cake with porcelain figures of the little house, and the four figures of the band, with a 35 as a candle.

Ross lets Matty go, and when the distance is unbearable, you're the one who runs to grab his hands when everyone screams to open his eyes. He opens them and finds you embraced to his body more tightly than ever. By inertia, he tightens the grip on your waist without ceasing to hug you. Now neither of us knows who to blame for the water running down the Briton's white shirt.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." You whisper incessantly, as he stabilizes in front of you, trying to get out of the surprise and accepting that you're actually in front of him, it's not a dream, he looks at the cake and cries again. He watches the audience feeling their heart pouring out into their hands. "Happy everything, my love."

He pulls you away from the grip when the birthday song rings out and has the cake in front of him without realizing it, but holds your hand in his fist. He coins it, and he protects it inside him. His smile is sadly short, but he has never had a greater look of genuine love on him than now. His wet eyelids, his face full of dry tears and his eyes glowing like never before. All thanks to you. He looks back at the cake and makes a face of utter surprise when he sees his figure made of porcelain sitting on the piano.

"Hey, that's me!" He's chirping like he's a kid who just ate a paddle he's seen in the store. Its essence is discovered there, that immeasurable happiness that creeps through all present.

He couldn't even think about how much he loves you because everything happens too fast, but he knows that after this he could never leave you. He doesn't know it yet, but this is the moment when Matty would close everything else. After this he would decide that you would be the woman of his life, that he would marry you and that they would have a family. You just kind of signed a sentence saying that he would never let anything happen to you and that if he had to lay down his life for you, he would.

George, Adam and Ross approach Matty as well, along with Polly, John and the rest of the band, all standing in a semicircle in front of the stage. The fire lights up Matty's face who has refused to block the touch of you two. You literally have to whisper his name in his face with a silly smile so he'll let you go and be the only one in the middle of the round.

The flashes of the phones illuminate the scene, there is the same chorus symphony composed of dozens of voices that work at the same time without prior coordination. No, it's not a movie and it's not a dream that someone's going to wake up from, it's really happening.

The fire dissipates, again the sound of clashing palms comforts the place. Denise leaves the cake on the piano and hurls herself at her son. She loves him so much, and is so happy that he can be really happy being who he is. The sequence is quite fast, his family hugs him, then the four hug and the difference in height is noticeable between the four males. Then goes Polly, Jhon and everyone else who's there. The show is delayed for the same reason, but nobody really cares about sacrificing a song to be part of this moment.

He opens his arms towards you and makes you fly through the air for a second before giving you his best Chesire Cat smile. Seize the moment to steal a quick kiss leaving behind the expanse of euphoria that surrounds them. For Matty there really is nothing else right now than him and you on the whole ethereal plane he's met at the age of 35. Fans disappear, the band and their parents too, as long as it merges into you in touch can only feel how they function the same way, being really a single soul trapped between two bodies. God, he's lovesick of the love he has for you, and he could throw it up right now, but surely all he could do is throw up his heart.

The contact ends, and finally he approaches the microphone.

"I really have the greatest persons and the greatest fans in the world. I ́m incredibly glad about it." He runs his hand through his hair and laughs, shedding his last tears. "Saying thanks it wouln ́t be enough, and I could never finish thanking you for all this, but i love each and every one of you, honestly."

Matty grabs his acoustic guitar almost the second he says that. The chords of The birthday party are heard. Everything is extremely special about this song and it is something narrow and deep, there is a truth to count on the song at this moment so charged with sentimentality.

Matty has spent years of his lost life without having a reason to keep him going, floating around while surviving, or trying to. He has come and gone as far as anyone could imagine, has suffered perhaps too much to expose his vulnerability. Indeed, he felt lost in hell during the most unbearably difficult years of his life. He's driven so many people away by his personality and by neglecting so many ties, but now he knows.

He has alienated so many people by his personality and by neglecting so many ties, but now he knows that although he may be late for some, he has enough with him. All your friends are here, in the same scene, no matter what that means.

The following of Guys in a much calmer tone makes everyone end up crying, their most personal song as a band. Matty feels the same as before, his friends have been the best thing that's ever happened to him, and they've saved his life thousands and thousands of times. He could not get used to the idea of lose them, because he would crumble without them in his life.

Just like he would do without you.

In the end, Matty makes fun of himself for being so bitter all day. He really had the best birthday of his entire life.

in my head this is a tender idea of ​​how much I would give way to see matty happy, so I hope that was achieved. also, happy birthday weekend matty you are the best.

let me know what you think, also let me know if you want to be on my tag list <3

#matty healy #matty the 1975 #the 1975 #1975 band #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy fluff #matty35 #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x oc #birthday matty #i might cry

[ghcstao3]

for @dhampiravidi — the curse of wanting to kiss your lieutenant who is never without his mask

-

God, I want to kiss him, is Soap’s very first thought upon seeing Ghost’s face in that dimly-lit safe house.

It’s highly possible I might die before I ever get the chance, is his very second as Ghost is slipping on a new balaclava.

Of course, Soap has wanted to kiss the man for a while, now—could probably pick the exact moment that thought settled into his mind—but it doesn’t quite dawn on him until he’s faced with the prospect of putting his life in peril again, not moments after finally catching a glimpse of thin, pink lips.

It’s cruel timing, is what it is. It’s evil and unfortunate and unfair, and Soap is already thinking up all the ways he’s going to stick it to those Shadow bastards for messing with his opportunities to kiss handsome (and strong and witty and oddly charming and—) men.

First, however, he comes up with a plan to scratch off the only thing on his current bucket list, if only to make his revenge that much sweeter—because he is John “Soap” Mac-Fucking-Tavish, and he never leaves important business unfinished.

But Ghost is making it really fucking difficult to follow through on that promise.

So difficult, in fact, that Soap ends up living through Graves and Hassan and every other stupid thing all to never once succeed. Because asides from that apparent blue-moon occasion, Ghost is never without a stupid mask.

Soap hates him. He wants to kiss him so, so bad.

But he can’t. It’s impossible, Soap thinks, barring asking Ghost outright—as if he’d ever agree. The lieutenant eats alone in his office, showers in his own personal bathroom, suffers through heat and dirt and blood until he can hole himself up somewhere in private for a reprieve from that damn mask.

So much for that kiss. Maybe Soap should set his ambitions a little lower.

Except, maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe instead he should just state his ambitions aloud when they come to mind, because apparently Ghost had been on his own similar track.

They’re the last two in the briefing room when Soap gets what he’s been wishing for for months. He’s just getting ready to stand and leave when a hand falls on his shoulder and urges him to stay put, before the muted rustle of fabric and chapped lips crashing into Soap’s at an awkward angle.

It lasts only a second. So quick Soap blinks and it seems like Ghost is out the door. For a moment he thinks he might have imagined it—but he catches a glimpse of Ghost tugging his balaclava back under his chin, and he feels the tingle of warmth on his skin left behind from the chaste contact, and Soap just smiles. Smiles like an idiot to himself as he chases after the lieutenant, not thinking twice whether he’d be allowed to ask for more.

God, I want to kiss him ends up being a thought that never fades.

#prompt #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #soapghost #ghostsoap #writing

[justmeinadaze]

We're A Family Part 24 (Steddie X You)

A/N: So I am calling this the final part just because it IS the final part of the main story but I'm not done with this little family. I still have a few ideas for them so it won't be the last we see.

Warnings: Dads SteddieX Mom Fem Y/N, SMUT of the passionate tender variety that comes with these three, No real ANGST, Dylan going off to college and the three parents here dealing with that. Some flashbacks of Dylan and the reader struggling with Charlie.

The biggest feels here will come along with anyone who has experienced empty nest syndrome so be aware of that.

FLUFF, The guys talk a lot about how much they love their son and vice versa <3.

Word Count: 4965

Good Neighbors/ We're a Family

Your eyes run along newborn Dylan’s little sleeping face as his tiny hand holds your finger. Charlie had passed out long ago, curled up on the makeshift bed as he softly snored. They could be twins. 

“I’m glad you’re finally here. Your daddy and I have been so excited to meet you.”, you coo in a gentle tone. “I promise, baby, you are going to have the best life. I’ll do anything I can to protect you and make you happy just like my dad did. I wish you could have met him. He would have adored having a grandson.”

Your voice cracks as tears sting your eyes at the thought. Dylan wiggles a bit in your hold as if he was getting more comfortable as his head turned towards your chest. 

Tilting down, you tenderly kiss his forehead and inhale his baby smell. 

“I love you so much.”

***

“Hey, sit your little butt down.”, Eddie teases as he lightly tugs on Aurora’s skirt, ushering her to sit beside him.

“But then I can’t see Dylan!”

“Thankfully the ceremony hasn’t started yet so there’s nothing for you to see.”

Vivian chuckles above him as Ro sticks out her tongue and the metalhead does the same.

“She’s definitely got some personality.”

“Yeah, she gets that from her mother.”, Steve jokes as he shifts James in his lap while the little boy continues to play with the man’s tie. 

You smile his way but quickly focus back on the students in their seats on the lawn a feet away from the bleachers your family was sitting on. Dylan was laughing with his friends around him and occasionally winking at Daisy from her seat down the way. God, he had picked up way too much from Eddie. 

This was a lot harder than you thought it would be. It felt like you were just holding him in arms feeding him a bottle and now suddenly he’s graduating high school. In a week he would be in a completely new state and living his own adult life. 

Why did he have to grow up so fast?

The feeling of fingers brushing your hair behind your ear brought you back to realty before you were being pulled to Steve’s side.

“I know, baby. I know.”

A ringed hand encapsulated your own as Eddie kissed the back of it and didn’t let go till the end of the ceremony. Feeling little hands play with your hair, you tilt your head back to see Brody beaming wide before giggling and kissing your forehead. 

“Yeah, he’s been doing that lately and we can’t figure out why.”, Vivian’s new boyfriend explained as he lifted him onto his lap. 

An accountant, this man was definitely different from Charlie which having been a partner to him as well you understood why she would go down that route. Eddie and Steve liked him even though the metalhead would tease him from time to time when he got a bit too excited when talking about numbers. You and Dylan made sure to remind him that he was the exact same when it came to D&D and he immediately shut up. 

“Ed here used to hug people when he was a toddler. Pure strangers, he would just run to them and give ‘em a hug.”, Wayne chimed in making Steve chuckle at the thought. 

Your mom and Mrs. Harrington weren’t able to make it to the ceremony due to previous commitments they were unable to squeeze out of but Kierra promised to record everything which she did with her phone held high in the air. Wayne and Mrs. Harrington were honestly surprised Dylan wanted them there. 

“They’re my grandparents to. Why wouldn’t I want them there?”

Steve’s mom cried when he told her and Eddie’s uncle turned into the equivalent of goo as he blushed. 

Even after the months that had passed, your son followed through with not having Charlie there, the three of you sitting with him in his room as he made the call. He texted you after asking if it would be ok to swing by at least before he left for college and you told him you were ok with that. 

Everyone quieted down as the principal walked across the stage and began the graduation ceremony.

###########

Your eyes shift between your husband and your four-year-old son as they pick at the food on their plates. Charlie’s fingers moved quickly along his phone and it killed you. You hated that thing and how much time he spent on it. 

“Baby?”

“Hm.”

“Charles.”

“What, Y/N?”, he snaps. 

“Why don’t you put your phone down, huh?”

“I’m talking to my boss.”

“Ok. Can he not wait until after dinner?” When he ignores you, your worried eyes glance towards Dylan whose wide observant ones immediately focused back down on his plate. “Charlie, come on. I’m asking for one hour.”

“Jesus.”, he whines as he slams down his device making you and your son jump. “I’m dealing with a big important thing for work…to make us money…for you and Dylan but sure! Let me put everything on the back burner! How was your day, honey?”

Throwing a scowl his way, you try to ignore his sarcasm but he persists. 

“No, hey. My phones away, let’s talk! No? Ok, hey, Dil. How was your day?!” Without saying a word, your son gets up and runs to his bedroom. “Well that’s great.”

“What do you expect when you talk to him like that? Why is it so hard for you to be here and present with your family?”, you hiss. 

“What the fuck do you want from me, Y/N?! Do you want this fucking roof over your goddamn heads?! That cost money, baby! Whatever. I’m fucking done with this conversation.”

Your jaw tightens as you listen to him get up, grab his jacket, and slam the front door as he leaves. 

***

“Dylan? Weirdo, are you ok?” Your heart breaks when he doesn’t answer, pressing his little face further into his pillow. Sighing, you climb in beside him and run your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, baby. Daddy didn’t mean to snap at you like that.”

Rolling over, he wraps his arms around you and you rest your head on his as you hold him tightly. 

“Daddy’s always angry.”

“But never at you, Dylan. He loves you so much.”

“And you?”

“Does daddy love me? Yeah, honey, of course.”

“Den why he so mad all da time?”

You genuinely had no idea how to answer that question as you kissed his forehead. Your brain began to wonder as you thought about what would be best. Divorce popped in occasionally but you immediately shook away the notion. You and Charlie both lost your dads. You didn’t want that for him. 

You can make this work. Maybe there’s something you could do to get the man you fell in love with back so the three of you could be happy. 

***

Dylan excitedly runs in your direction but Aurora and James cut his parents off as they get to him first. The boy effortlessly picks them up with each arm and Steve grins as he takes a picture. 

“I’m free!”

“We’re so proud of you, babe.”, Vivian praises as she kisses his cheek before Brody does the same making your son laugh. 

“Very proud.”, Wayne smiles, thrown off when Dylan places his siblings down and gives the man a hug. Eddie chuckles through his teeth as his uncle lightly smacks his chest before wrapping his arms around the boy. 

“How dare you make me feel old.”, Kierra playfully scolds as she kisses his face. 

“A high school graduate and on your first go around!”, the metalhead jokes as he leans in for a hug. “You’re amazing, kid.”

“I guess I can’t call you ‘little man’ anymore.”, Steve says as he takes the boy in his arms. 

“You still can and you can never stop calling me ‘weirdo’.”, Dylan replies gesturing towards you. 

“You’re always going to be my little weirdo.”

He softly smiles as he bends to embrace you allowing you to circle your arms around his neck as he lifts you off your feet. 

“I love you, mom. Thank you for everything.”

#############

A seven-year-old Dylan clings to your neck as you hold him to you against the wall of the pool at the apartment complex. Eddie insisted he could beat Steve in a race and the former swimmer promptly took the challenge. 

“1! 2! 3! GO!”, your son shouted, giggling as both men splashed water everywhere as they took off. 

“I told you!”, Steve gloated as he beat the metalhead effortlessly. “You went to school with me. You should have known better.”

Eddie pants as he finally reaches the wall beside you.

“Jesus, I need to stop smoking.”

You and Dylan laugh at him as the other boy pulls his body out of the pool and leans down to take the small boy from you. 

“I’m starving. Munson is buying dinner since he sucks—lost—I mean lost.”

Scowling his way, the long-haired man helps you out of the water and wraps a towel around your body. 

When you four make it back to the apartment, Steve sighs as he realizes he has a couple of missed calls. 

“It’s from the store. I just need one minute.”

Dylan’s head hangs as he wraps his towel tighter around him and heads for his bedroom to change. Grabbing his arm, you stop him and move some of the hair that had stuck to his forehead.

“Hey Keith, what’s going on?...You need me to come in…” Eddie’s chocolate eyes watch both of you intensely as you cup your son’s face in your hands. “Ok, well, I’m not free today but if you call Robin she can help today and I can come in tomorrow.”

Your son’s head shot up to look towards Steve as he gave his boss a few more uh huhs before finally turning around and throwing his phone back down on your couch. 

“What?”, he asked when he realized you three were watching him. “What’s wrong, little man? Everything ok?”

“Y-You…you don’t have to leave?”

“No? I’m spending the day with you, bud. Why would I even want to leave?”, he chuckled a bit confused. Tears leave the small boy’s eyes as he runs and practically tackles Steve’s legs. 

“Thank you.”

“Hey. Go change so you can come back and tell Eddie what you want him to buy you.”, you instructed as you tickle his neck with your finger. 

As soon as he disappears, you tackle your arms around his waist and lean your head on his chest.

“Thank you.”

“I’m not quite sure what I did but you’re both welcome.”

Tilting back, you softly press your lips to his. 

“Thank you for being you.”

***

After putting Aurora to bed, you stepped outside on to your back porch where Eddie was already into his second cigarette with a beer in his hand. As you sat beside him on the steps, you scanned him over truly taking in how much he had changed in almost 12 years. He looked incredibly handsome in his button up short sleeve shirt and tie with black slacks that Steve insisted he wear to look more formal. 

He had his hair pulled back for the ceremony but now it was down around his shoulders. As he brought the cigarette to this lips you couldn’t help but admire his wedding band that blended in perfectly with his other rings. 

Visually, he still more or less looked the same with a few new signs of aging in his face and more laugh lines around his eyes but what really shifted was his demeanor. While Eddie always had an air of confidence, he seemed to carry it differently now that he was older. Most of the burdens he held before he no longer had because he was finally genuinely happy. He had everything he could have ever asked for and more. 

Silently, he handed you his half-finished cigarette that you eagerly sucked on as he took a sip from the bottle in his hand.

“What are you thinking about?”, you ask as you lean against the rail beside you. 

“You.”, he smiles. “Steve. Dylan. Ro. James. My family.”

“Anything in particular?”

His lips pout out slightly as he shakes his head and continues looking off towards the lake. 

“When I caught Charlie and Vivian, I remember going off on him and then running out the door. I felt so lost and confused. I didn’t know where to go because I knew if I went home my mom would make me feel bad. I was too embarrassed at the time to go to Kierra’s and I didn’t have any friends I felt comfortable with. I pulled over on the side of the road and sobbed.”

Eddie’s hand reaches out to intertwine with yours making you smile as you glance in the distance was well. You both listened as shoes scooted along the wood, sliding over a chair as Steve exhaled taking a seat. The metalhead lifted his bottle in the air that the other man took and chugged back the remaining liquid. 

“If you had told me then that I would be here in this big house where my two other kids are sleeping after seeing Dylan graduate high school and with two men who are not only fabulous husbands and partners but phenomenal dads to a little boy… who just wanted to be appreciated for who he was…”

The metalhead wiped his eyes as the tears began to flow from them both. 

“I know…you said once that its easier for me to hold it all in when it comes to him but… Y/N, when his principal said ‘Dylan Munson-Harrington’… it all just hit me. All the memories and the fact that he’s leaving in a week. I mean this kid has been with us since the beginning.”

“Since day one.”, Steve added. “Shit. If you had told us the night before that tomorrow I would open the door to a little boy that would change everything… Y/N, growing up the thought of being a dad scared me but it always felt easy with him.”

“He always wanted to learn and asked me constantly to show him how to play my guitar.”, Eddie laughed. “I remember one of our first conversations was when we came over and I hooked up the video game system. I asked him what kind of games he liked and he just lit up, sweetheart. When he told me Charlie never liked the things he did or played with him he made me think of my dad. Allen was the same way and I didn’t want that for him.”

 “And that’s just the beginning. Don’t even get me started on all the other feelings about how he’ll be the first Munson to go to school and get a degree.”, Eddie laughed as he leaned back against Steve’s leg. “I’m so proud of him but I’m really going to fucking miss him.”

“Me to.”

“Me to.”, you add. “Thank you for being you.”

##################

“Dad? Can I ask you something?”, a twelve-year-old Dylan inquires as Eddie starts to walk past his door after putting his sister to bed. 

“Yeah, kid. What’s up?”

“How did you ask a girl out when you were my age?”

“Oof. I had all the girls lined up around the block to date me! Oh, wait, that was Steven.”, he teased making his son laugh. “When I was your age I had this huge crush on a girl in my English class. She was one of the popular kids and I was terrified to say anything. But one day we got paired up for a project and I made her laugh. Just started acting like a total dork and she loved it.”

“So…be funny?”

“I mean, there’s a bit more to it but…” Eddie pauses as he starts to panic, fearful he’s giving the boy the worst advice. “Look, Dylan, my dad wisdom to you? Just be yourself. Steve and I had an ex that was so uptight. She hated that I ‘couldn’t be serious.’ Truth was she didn’t like me for me. Your mom on the other hand loves my nerdy ass and my sense of humor.”

Dylan beams as his dad pulls him in for a hug.

“Can I find out who this girl is? I swear I won’t tell Y/N.”

 “It’s, um, I kind of…really like…Daisy.”

Eddie tries to contain his giddiness at his son’s admission. Steve had called it a long time ago and you had mentioned how cute he seemed to get every time Daisy would come over.

“Dude, come on. She definitely likes you for you. I see you make her laugh all the time and listen to her when she seems upset. You offered to help her with school. You’re a good dude.”

“But what if she only wants to be friends?”

“Then that’s ok to and you know no matter what the three of us will be here with pizza and beer to cure your heartache.”

“Mom won’t let you give me beer!”, Dylan chuckles.

“Meh, you’re right. Ok, Steve and I will sneak you into the bar then.”

***

It was so soft you barely felt it at first, both their lips kissing and sucking on either side of your neck. When your eyes fluttered open, you took in the scene before you. Eddie and Steve were pressed against your sides, their arms thrown over your body as palms rubbed along your tummy and chest. There was a neediness behind their subtle movements that had you whimpering as you arched your head back to allow them more access as their mouths opened wider to run their tongues along your skin. 

Steve was the first to move, placing his body on top of yours and pulling down his boxers enough to free his cock. As he leaned back on his heels to remove his shirt, the metalhead’s lips mingled with your own, his hand cupping your cheek to keep you facing him. After wrapping your legs around his waist, the other man guided himself into your entrance and Eddie mewled as you heavily exhaled at the feeling. 

Steve’s large, soft hand traveled to your breasts, kneading your tits as he rolled his hips at steady pace. When his palm finds your throat, his eyes meet yours and you nod earnestly granting him permission before lightly squeezing it between his fingers. 

Jumping to the side, Eddie hastily removes his clothes, stroking his cock at the sight of you both as he crawls back in beside you. Opening your mouth, now desperate to taste him, he accepts your invitation, moaning loudly as your tongue plays with his tip and your head bobs. 

Slanting his lower half till he was hovering just above you, Steve thrusts into you harder and faster as his own tongue extends out to help you lick his husband’s length. After readjusting himself, the metalhead clung to the other man’s hair as he pumped his dick down his throat causing him to slightly gag and constrict around him while you clung to Steve’s shoulders smothering your moans against his skin. 

It was almost too much as your pussy quivered around him and you came, his palm immediately coming to cover your mouth as he fucked you through your high. Eddie laid back down on his side, tilting his head to kiss the lips of the man he loved as he grunted and his warm release filled you up. 

Taking you in his arms, the long-haired boy maneuvered you around until you were on top of him with your back against his chest. You couldn’t help but shiver against his body as he ran his leaking tip through your dripping folds, grazing your clit and making you whine. 

As soon as his cock entered you, he set an animalistic pace as his dick slammed into your sensitive spot repeatedly. 

“Oh, fu--!”

Eddie’s ring covered hand cut you off, covering your mouth as you started to scream at the sudden feeling of Steve’s tongue flicking your bundle of nerves. Your own hand rested on his as your fingers intertwined with the one he had gripping your stomach. 

The way he groaned in your ear, you knew the pretty boy was altering between you and Eddie as he played with your nub and sucked on the other man’s balls. It drove him wild as he pushed against your back, forcing you to sit up as he grabbed both sides of your hips and guided your movements. 

Steve’s fingers slid into your mouth, hoping to silence you as he continued pleasuring you both. As you neared your climax, it wasn’t enough and Eddie flipped you over so you could shove your face into the pillow and shout as you fell over the ledge. Lying flat against your back, he held your hands as his forehead leaned against your shoulder warming your skin as he panted. 

 Grunts filled your ears and with a few more rough thrusts, he emptied inside of you. 

You laid there quietly until Steve motioned for you both to follow and guided you two in the shower with him. You allowed them to clean you as you watched them carefully, Eddie closing his eyes as he leaned his head back under the hot water and Steve sighing as he pressed his back against the cold tile. 

“I’m proud of you two.” Their heads lifted to look at you as you continued. “He may be the first Munson to go to college but he learned that hard work ethic for you, Eddie. You own your own store and work hard to take care of everyone not just us. Steve, you showed him he could achieve anything he wanted by following your dream and becoming a teacher.”

“My son was always a good kid but because of you two he’s happy. I’m going to miss him but I’m not worried about his future because of everything you both have done for him. I’ll never be able to thank you properly…”

As the tears start to flow arms wrap around you from behind and Steve promptly tugs you both forward as he presses your head to his chest.

“I would hold that thought…we still have two kids left to fuck up.”

You and the man in front of you giggle at Eddie’s comment as the heavy air breaks and you shake your head as you turn around to give him a big hug. 

#############

A six-year-old Dylan smiles up at you from his place in bed as he waits for you to tuck him in. 

A couple of nights ago, Eddie and Steve had come over to spend time with him when his father bailed and that night you three were intimate in their apartment after he had gone to bed. It had been two days since you saw them and you couldn’t stop thinking about them. 

“Mommy? When are we going to hang out wit-wit Eddie and Steve again?”

Softly grinning, you climbed in beside him and he promptly curled up at your side. 

“You liked spending time with them?”

“Yeah! Mom, Eddie is-is-is so funny and Steve said he would play basketball wit me. I love them!”

“Oh my goodness!”, you tease as you pull him close and kiss the top of his head. “Yeah, they were fun to hang out with and they told me that you’re an amazing kid.”

He blushes as you smile, turning off his little lamp as you continue to run your fingers through his hair. 

“Do you like hanging out wit dem?”

“Yeah, baby, I did.”

“Good cause…you seem…different…around dem…”

“Different how, weirdo?”

“Happy.”

***

James and Aurora clung to Dylan’s neck as their dads finished putting the last remaining boxes in the U-Haul. 

“Guys, I’m not going away forever and you know I’ll call you both every day.”

“You promise you’ll come home for Christmas and my birthday?”

“Of course, Ro. Unless you get a boyfriend you’d rather hang out with.”

“I didn’t hear that.”, Steve teases making them laugh. 

“Love you, bra-der.”

“I love you to, kid.”

“Ok, guys we have to let Dylan go.” Your voice cracked as you lightly pulled on your daughter’s curls. “Rara, why don’t you and James go watch some TV and I will make you guys lunch in a minute, ok?”

After giving them one last kiss, he drops them to their feet and both kids wave before running inside the house. He grins down at you as you wrap your arms around him and he holds you tightly. 

“I love you so much.”

“I love you to, mom.”

The sound of the truck clanging shut pulled you both apart as you kissed his cheek and he playfully whined as he lightly pushed you. Both men shuffled slowly around the corner as they waited for their turn to say goodbye. 

Smiling their way, you scooted towards the porch and sat on the steps so they could be alone.

“So, let us know when you get there and that you and Daisy are safe.”

“And if you need anything and I mean anything just give us a call and we’ll fly right over no questions asked.”, Eddie added making Dylan grin. 

“I know you would and that’s why you’re my dads.”, he replied. “I don’t remember a whole lot from their marriage but I do remember my mom was always trying to keep it together. Always carrying this burden that she thought I couldn’t see. The first time I ever saw her genuinely smile was that first time you two came over.”

“Daisy and I have been talking these past couple of weeks and she feels bad about leaving her mom here with her dad. It wasn’t until she said it that I realized, I don’t have that problem because I know she’s safe with you.”

“Jesus Christ, kid.”, Eddie chuckled as he tried to hide the tears that had fallen. “Still the fucking kid spy for the CIA or some shit.” Everyone laughed including you even though you couldn’t hear their conversation. “You’ve always been really smart and so fucking kind. I know you always used to say how much you loved that we listened to you and cared about things you were into but you have no idea how much it meant to me when you did that for me. The way you listened to me babble about D & D and guitar—”

“Hey, now, the guitar is awesome.”

“Yeah it is.”, the metalhead grins. “What I’m trying to say is I was always afraid of becoming Allen but you taught me that as a father and a man I could be like Wayne… I love you, kid, and I’m so fucking proud of you.”

He leans in to give his son a hug and you smile as you picture the small kid that played video games with him 24/7. The young boy that ran into Eddie’s arms after his talent show where he had taught him to play the guitar. The little boy who in his most terrifying moment called the metalhead first to come help him because he felt safe with him. 

“I know I can be a bit overprotective but…”, Steve laughed breathily as they beamed at him. “…Like Ed said, you were such a good kid and I hated, fucking hated, when Charlie would hurt you. No one ever stood up for me when I was growing up. I was always alone in our big house and anytime my dad was an asshole I just kind of absorbed it. I didn’t want that for you…any of you three. I knew I wanted my kids to have a happy home where they felt safe coming to me. Dylan, you were my son before you even started calling me dad. Even if you had decided to keep your last name and kept calling him dad, you would still be our son. I love you to, little man.”

As they embrace and your oldest begins to cry against his shoulder, you see the six-year-old that clung to Steve when he was in the hospital sick with a fever. The small boy who stood down an adult like Mr. Harrington and scolded him for being rude to “his daddy”. The young man who held him tightly as his own biological parent broke his heart and he listened to the man he now saw as his father defend and protect him. 

“Ok, ok. Come on. You have to go. Daisy is waiting for you.” Steve lifts the boys head and wipes his tears with his thumbs as they both grin at him comfortingly. “And you’re right by the way. She is safe with us. Nothing bad is going to happen to Y/N or your siblings, ok?”

Nodding, he gives you one final wave as he hops into the truck and slowly begins driving down the road. 

“Are you ok?”, you ask as you come up behind them. 

“Yeah, sweetheart. You?”

“I’m sure I will be.”

“Yeah…”, Eddie agrees as he pulls your back against his chest and rests his head on your shoulder. “At least I get my guitar room back.”

“Oh really?!”, Steve shouts as the metalhead takes your hand and the three of you head towards your front door. “I thought we all agree I could have an office.”

“Yes, Steven, because grading papers requires a whole room for you.”

“Eddie, stop it.”, you giggle as you push up on your toes to kiss their lips. 

##################

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summoned pt1

See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: Anonymous

Summary: After what could probably be the worst birthday of your life, a mysterious shadowy figure appears in your bedroom while you were sleeping.

Pairing: Incubus!Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: language; A+ parenting that would impress Odin; inaccurate summoning rituals; Loki feeling you up in your sleep [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Loki's a sex demon, not a god in this one

Worst. Birthday. Ever.

You walked through your apartment grumbling those exact words as you finally toed off your cinching pumps and padded your feet over to the kitchen counter, placing the little cupcake you'd gotten for yourself as a pitiful excuse of a 'celebration' for today. A joke, really, considering what a colossal shit show the day had turned out to be.

First the printer had jammed, keeping you waiting in queue for over three hours just to complete the solitary task that was in your workload for today that kept you from ending your day earlier and hopefully finding a way to actually celebrate despite your entire family being too busy to even call for a simple "Happy Birthday, Y/N" greeting over FaceTime. Something about them all going out to celebrate your sister getting cast as an understudy to a secondary character in her school play.

And then to add salt to the wound, not even HR could bother to have invited you to the free lunch they arranged for this month's celebrants. They told you that it must have slipped their minds when they were orienting you.

"It didn't even cross your minds to double check when your total number of celebrants for the year didn't match your total number of employees?" you asked them, trying to keep your composure because, after all, you still needed this job to pay your goddamn bills.

"Honestly, Miss Y/L/N, we just thought that the system glitched. It was just off by one. We didn't think anything of it."

A glitch. That was what you were to this company. Hell, to your family as well. Barely even a blip on the radar. Just something they remember actually existed when everything else managed to go wrong in their lives.

Now here you were, sitting in your little one bedroom apartment in New York, alone and lonely on your 29th birthday, wondering how you could have lived your life so invisibly that nobody even noticed you'd somehow slipped so far between the cracks that you were collecting dust in a corner of the room that nobody could see, let alone reach. How could you have gone your entire life and you didn't even have someone to call when you wanted company?

How could you have been so alone that nobody would even think of you if they wanted company?

You decided there was no harm in making a wish for yourself as you searched for a lighter for the tiny candle to cap off the dismal start to the final year of your 20s. You took out a piece of paper and scribbled your wish, tears prickling in the back of your eyes as you penned the words.

Someone that makes me feel less alone.

You lit up the candle and held the paper to the flame, a tear escaping your eye as you whispered the words, "This is all I want." You watched as the tiny sheet became engulfed in flames, disappearing into ash floating around the air so quickly that your fingers didn't even have enough time to feel the fire licking across your skin.

"Happy Birthday, Y/N," you sighed, blowing out the candle. "Another banner year," you whispered sarcastically into the dark silence.

You went about the rest of your night in the shroud of darkness, making the split second decision to change into a black silk negligee that you'd been reserving to wear for when you finally had someone to spend the night with rather than just spend a fleeting half hour with before you ended up leaving their apartment because you just couldn't feel a connection.

Perhaps the time had come to accept that you weren't meant to have that type of connection. With anyone.

With that depressing thought taking over, you laid down in bed and allowed sleep to take you, letting your thoughts drift into nothingness as you focused on the dark and the quiet that surrounded you. The same dark and quiet that always surrounded you.

What you heard next might as well have shot ice straight through your veins. "Well…hello. Aren't you a pretty thing."

It's just a nightmare, you told yourself. Just squint your eyes really hard and you'll wake up.

You tried to squeeze your eyes as hard as you could, but you could still feel that you weren't quite alone, the faint touch of a hand ghosting over your body on top of your comforter, the husked voice humming in a sound that vaguely resembled satisfaction. "How fortunate of me to have been called to such an exquisite creature." You stilled as you felt a warm breath by your cheek, followed by the feel of a tongue tracing along the shell of your ear. "We're going to have such fun together."

When you felt the hand slide under your comforter, warm fingertips beginning to trace along the column of your neck, was when you finally found it in you to move. Perhaps if you couldn't squint your way awake, then you'd just have to jolt your body into waking by any means necessary.

The only thing was…you were awake. And in the darkness you could see the silhouette of a man with long hair hovering over you. You let out a scream so loud you were sure the roving guard in your building was about to break down your door for fear that you were getting slaughtered in your bedroom.

The shrill sound was enough to have the figure seem visibly taken aback that it gave you just enough leeway to push him off of you and propel yourself out of bed. "You have ten seconds to tell me who you are before I…I…" You fumbled around in your bedside drawer, not once taking your eyes off of the intruder's distractingly sculpted silhouette, and grasped the letter opener you kept inside. "Before I slash at you with this. Ten!"

"I have no need to explain myself. You summoned me."

"Keep telling yourself that, buddy. Nine!"

"Do you truly not recall summoning me, you beguiling little creature?"

"Creature??" you shrilled. "Alright that's it, you just knocked five seconds out. Four!"

"Alright wait, wait! If you truly do not recall then perhaps we can discuss this? Preferably without meager weapons," he said, holding his hands up in a show of surrender. You proceeded to shout Three, making him let out a sibilant exhale. "If you won't listen to reason, then perhaps I must make you listen."

In the next moment, the figure disappeared, thin wisps of smoke being the only indicator that there was even anything that once occupied the space he stood in.

You started to let out another shrill scream into your now empty bedroom, only for the sound to die in a muffled squeak as the intruder re-materialized right beside you, clamping a large hand over your mouth…and nearly half your face.

"Shhh little mortal, please. I'm not here to harm you." You could feel yourself relaxing into his almost tender hold on you as he whispered the words into your ear, your reaction leaving you both shocked and appalled at yourself. "I swear, I am simply here because I was summoned. To perform a purpose. If what you say is true and you truly do not recall, then perhaps we could find out together why I've been brought here?"

Well shit, when he puts it that way, I must be a complete nimrod to keep screaming, huh? you hissed sarcastically at yourself. Considering that his hand was still covering your mouth, you simply nodded your response slowly, allowing him to take the letter opener from you with his free hand.

"If I release you, do you promise not to scream?" You let out a long exhale through your nose, slowly nodding your answer again, relief beginning to flood your system as he pulled his hand away from you and you began to walk to turn on the lights in your bedroom.

"Look I don't know who you are or what you are or what the fuck you're doing in my home, but I can promise you, on my life, I didn't summon you," you started, already emotionally exhausted from the disappointment of the day combined with this bizarre encounter from…wherever this intruder came from, with his tricks and smoke and mirrors. When you flipped the switch and your bedroom became awash with a warm white glow, you finally got a good look at your unexpected visitor.

But now I definitely wish I did, you thought to yourself. He was…for lack of a better, more fitting word, beautiful. A face that seemed as if it was sculpted and perfected by the greatest artists history had ever known, and that same scrupulous attention to detail had been given to the rest of him, too.

You never did understand back then what the women in your office meant when they described a man as someone that looked "built for sex". But now…looking at the man who stood mere feet away from you? Now you understood them perfectly.

"How about we start with why you believe I summoned you to begin with? And maybe names?" You struggled to maintain eye contact with him as he tilted his head at you, angling his body in a way that suggested he was about to approach you again. "I'm Y/N. And you are…?" You extended your hand to shake, a gesture that honestly seemed so ridiculous considering what had just happened moments ago, and where you two were.

"I am Loki. Of the Incubi," he replied, taking your hand in his. However, instead of shaking it like you'd expected, he raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, the action taking you by surprise right alongside the information he'd just revealed to you with those few words.

"Incubi? Sex demons?" you huffed out incredulously as you began to break into a fit of laughter, pulling your hand away from him. "Now I'm definitely sure you got your wires crossed somewhere. See, Loki, there's no fucking way that I summoned a sex demon. We can start with…I don't even know how."

Your laughter faded into a little squeak as you felt his fingers lightly grasping your chin, tilting your head so that he could take a good look at you. You began to squirm under his gaze as the moments ticked by. "I believe you," he breathed out, the disappointment visible on his face. "A shame. How I would have enjoyed being pleasure-bound to one as breathtaking as you."

His words rung with such an unapologetic honesty that it had you fighting back the heat rising in your cheeks…and swirling in your lower stomach. The way he moved his hand to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking your bottom lip, only worsened your already building desire for the man. No, not a man…demon. As if reminding yourself that he wasn't what he seemed was going to quell that fire; if anything, it might even make it worse, especially considering what kind of demon you were dealing with.

"Perhaps you unknowingly summoned me, then," he murmured, his face hovering so close to yours that you could feel his warm breath on your lips as he spoke. "Was there anything that you did tonight that was out of your regular routine? Perhaps that could lead us to…well, where we are now."

You moved out of his hold with an audible sigh. "Alright…well, I came home from work. It was my birthday, so I made a wish on the candle of my cupcake." You started walking out to the living room/dining area of your  apartment, half-heartedly waving toward the space as if to say 'this is where that happened'.

"Quite curious…" he trailed off, walking to the kitchen counter and running two fingers across the surface, placing wholly inappropriate thoughts in your mind about what kind of devastation those sinfully, egregiously long digits could possibly wreak on your body. "And how did you make this…wish?"

You started walking around your living room, trying to retrace your steps since you came home from work earlier, up until you also reached the kitchen counter, trying not to focus too much on the feel of his hand now resting on your lower back, fingers loosely curved around your waist as if he was ready to pull you towards him at a moment's notice.

"I wrote it…on a piece of paper," you muttered, placing your hands on the countertop, willing your memory from a few short hours ago to return to you. "I said 'This is all I want', and then I burned it on the flame before I blew the candle out."

It barely registered to you that he'd moved so that he was standing directly behind you as you were recalling the events before you went to sleep, his hands now resting on either side of your waist, holding you loosely against him. "Hmm…there it is, then. Your wish that you set aflame, that is what summoned me." You fought against your instinctive urge to lean in to his touch and shudder at the way he was whispering in your ear, lips hovering so close that you could feel them ghosting over your skin as he spoke. "Tell me, darling, what did you wish for?"

A shuddering breath escaped you as you felt him move, tracing his nose down the column of your neck, ghosting his lips along the curve between your neck and shoulder, all the while whispering against your skin his soft-spoken command to tell you what you'd wished for that resulted in him being summoned to your home.

"I wished for someone that would make me feel less alone," you sighed your admission, your words barely audible as you fought against your urge to tear up again.

You felt Loki tense against you, maneuvering you so that you would turn and face him, a mix of confusion and concern rife on his devastatingly beautiful features. "I must admit, I'd never been summoned by a wish so…vestal." He reached up and proceeded to push locks of your hair away from your face, tucking the strands behind your ear. "Usually when I am summoned the wish is more…carnal in nature."

"Because sex demon…" you muttered, smirks tugging at the corners of your mouths.

"Indeed," he answered you, a low chuckle escaping him as he tucked his fingers under your chin, tilting your head to look up at him. "Your accidental summoning of me does not change the fact that I am now bound to you, darling mortal. I cannot leave you be until I've fulfilled your needs." A shiver ran through you at his words, worsening when he leaned down, hovering his face mere inches away from yours as his hand traveled down the length of your arm wrapping his fingers around your own hand. "Come with me then."

You chose not to move as he began to lead you through your apartment, standing still and causing him to look back at you when he was met with resistance at your joined hands. "Come with you where, exactly?"

"Back to your bedroom, of course."

"I thought I made it clear that--"

"We're not to go there so that I may bed you, darling," he cut you off with a knowing smirk. "Unless, of course, that would satisfy your needs. In which case I would be more than happy to oblige."

You felt your walls clenching around nothing at his suggestion, tempted beyond reason to take him up on his offer even though you knew that while there was no doubt that sex with someone literally made for it would be mind-blowing, the last thing you needed was another meaningless romp in bed. "Then why exactly are you bringing me back to my bedroom?"

"Your wish," he began, relaxing his hold on you and walking back to stand mere inches from you. "It was for companionship, was it not?" You nodded mutely, a squeak escaping you as you felt his hand at your side, his thumb gently stroking along your ribcage. "From what I've observed with your kind, to sleep alone when one yearns for companionship may be one of the most cripplingly lonely feelings you can experience. I was simply intending to hold you."

His words left you staring at him blankly, struggling to process his words. "Honestly I just thought you were gonna skulk around in the corner while I lived my life because that would be like zero effort for you, and it would still make me feel 'less alone'," you tried to joke, biting your tongue when you saw that he'd only responded by furrowing his brows at you.

"You are far too beautiful to be this guarded," he murmured, leaning closer to you that you could feel his warm breath at the bridge of your nose. "You deserve to have someone to hold you. You shouldn't have had to feel this lonely to begin with." He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "I apologize. It seems that I was all that the fates could give you."

The gesture took you off guard, the tears that you'd been fighting back since you got home from work finally escaping your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. You wrapped your fingers around his hand, squeezing lightly in a silent gesture that you were letting him lead you back to your bedroom. You couldn't form the words anymore.

When he had you settled in your bed once again, only this time gently cradled in his arms, a large hand stroking up and down your back as he began to lull you to sleep. "Sleep, beautiful little mortal. You need not be alone any longer," he whispered before pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Not if I can help it."

"I really don't understand why you would be upset over this, Y/N. You should be thankful for the sentiment behind it, not the timing. What's important is that we remembered eventually, isn't it?"

You rolled your eyes at your mother's condescending tone over the phone. You'd spent the entire drive back to your apartment from work listening to her justify herself for at least remembering to greet you happy birthday.

Only thing was that it had been an entire six months later. And now she was trying to guilt you into warmly accepting her half-hearted greeting of 'oh I completely forgot, Happy Birthday, sweetie', as if it held any merit now. "Honestly Audrey, how can you even forget your own daughter's birthday for six months? I mean if I were in your shoes I'd remember the anniversary of the days that an entire baby threatened to rip my vagina in half."

"Language, young lady! And how dare you call me by my own name, I am your mother! And you know that we were caught up in celebrating your sister's accomplishment with her school play. Becoming an understudy is a big deal you know."

"I haven't been a young lady for ages, and you haven't been my mother for just as long," you snapped back at her. "And even she was able to text me six fucking months ago apologizing on your behalf and greeting me herself. And how the fuck should I know how big of a deal it is to become an understudy I was too busy becoming the lead when I was still going to school. Last I checked you weren't even in the audience when that happened."

"You really should stop this nasty habit of making everything about you, dear."

You let out a frustrated scream in the hall, the sound prompting your apartment door to open, the sight of Loki stepping out the door clad in his version of "casual clothing" calming you significantly. 'What's wrong?' he mouthed at you, nodding in clear understanding when your only response to him was 'Mother'.

"Do you even fucking hear yourself?? You call me with a half-assed apology for forgetting your daughter's birthday sixmonths ago, and you expect me to just accept it with open arms going 'Of course Mommy I'm so happy you remembered it's the thought that counts'? And now that I'm calling you out on your A+ parenting at least where Stella's concerned since you just love coddling her and celebrating everything with her down to her fucking participation certificates, you're gonna have the balls to tell me that I should stop making this about me??"

The feel of Loki's hands on your shoulders, thumbs resting snugly between your shoulder blades, pressing and rubbing soothing circles in an attempt to mediate your temper, had you taking a deep breath before you went on.

"Audrey I don't want to hear from you ever again. Facts are…you haven't checked in on me since before I moved out of the house. You've pretty much mailed me everything that I left behind there so that you could tear down the wall and give Stella a fucking princess suite, so there isn't even a single trace of me in any square inch of that place she can freely call home.

"You haven't been a mother to me since Stella was born, let alone a mom, so you know what? We might as well cut ties now before I start saying shit that's really gonna hurt your precious fragile ego. Goodbye. Don't ever contact me again. I'm blocking your number, and if you even dare fucking show up on my doorstep I'll call the fucking cops on you. Have the life you deserve."

You felt the phone get taken out of your hand before he turned you around to pull you into a warm embrace. "Are you alright?"

"That felt really fucking good," you mumbled into his chest, starting to let out a hearty laugh as you wrapped your arms around him to return the hug. You lifted your head to look up at him, a smile stretching across your face as your eyes met his. "Hi."

"Hello, precious girl." A small traitorous giggle escaped you as he pressed a kiss between your brows. "Welcome home."

Your heart was doing somersaults at his words, your mind struggling to process them as he easily lifted you off  your feet and walked you both into your apartment. Home. The word rolled so effortlessly off his tongue it placed the cruelest image in your head.

One where maybe Loki could stay in your life forever. One where maybe in the last six months of him providing you companionship, you weren't alone in your stupidity in falling in love with the sex demon.

That maybe said demon fell in love with you, too. And the blissful domestic atmosphere that surrounded you whenever you walked into your apartment wasn't just an illusion.

"I have a question," you spoke into the dark quiet of your bedroom when he held you that night, lulling you to sleep. You looked up from your head's position resting snugly on his shoulder, your breath audibly hitching as you saw how menacingly beautiful he looked when his features were illuminated by the moonlight and nothing else.

"Ask away, darling." You could feel your eyes growing heavy as he proceeded to stroke your hair, earning you a low chuckle from him.

"You don't sleep…"

"That is true, I don't."

"So what do you do while I'm asleep?" You brought out another chuckle from him as you fought back a yawn after asking your question.

"Count the hours until the sun rises and your infernal alarm begins to blare in our ears and pulls you out of your peaceful slumber. In those hours, I read something from your shelves occasionally. But mostly I would watch over you, wonder what it is you're dreaming about that brings out such raw reactions upon your face."

"Fuck you must be bored out your mind, I'm sorry," you murmured, feeling yourself sink deeper and deeper into sleep.

Your brows furrowed together at the feel of his  fingers lightly grasping your chin. "Look at me, Sweetheart." Your eyes met his through your heavy-lidded gaze, a lazy smile tugging at the sides of your mouth as you looked into his darkened gaze. "That couldn't be farther from the truth. You could never bore me."

A violent fluttering erupted in your stomach as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, a mix between a sigh and a satisfied hum escaping him as he kissed you.

"Never," he insisted before pressing one final kiss to your lips. "Now go to sleep, darling."

"Mmph…thank you, Loki."

"What ever for?"

"For making me feel less alone."

Those last words you uttered before sleep finally took you echoed in Loki's ears like ominous drums that signaled a death march. Each time the words came back, the sound would grow louder, beginning to thump against his chest as if his heart was rushing to give out.

He'd forgotten that it could even do that.

For so long it had taken on this slow, almost snaillike pace that he could have sworn it stopped beating eons ago. It was only that first night, as he held you in his arms, that he could begin to feel the echoes of a pulse once more.

Now those echoes were more than prominent, each thump inside of him signaling that now that you said those words, his time with you was about to come to a screeching halt.

He dreaded how it would  happen. Would he simply be summoned to another's bed, simply to resume the process of meaningless trysts with sleeping women that craved nothing more than to be fucked into a stupor that more often than not led to permanent and unfavorable side effects on their part?

Would he be called back to Lilith's domain? To face an admonishment for taking so long on this particular assignment when he could have ended your plight so much more quickly and efficiently?

Would he even be able to say goodbye to you? Could he even bear it to see the look on your face if he did?

"Take it back," he pleaded softly at your sleeping form, desperation lacing every word. "Please. I don't want to leave you, Y/N. Take it back." He held you tighter against him, pressing kiss after kiss to your skin as he kept on begging you take the words back. "I can't bear to leave you, sweet girl. I love you too much for that."

A/N: Okay so I took quite a few liberties with the request but I hope you like it, Anon! There's going to be a part 2 to this because I want to give them a happy (and smutty) ending.

'everything' taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017

Loki taglist: @calumance @severuslovebot @moonlightreader649 @i-stand-with-loki @nixymarvelkins @cheekyscamp @lokisgoodgirl @purplegrrl27 @thedistractedagglomeration

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki imagine #loki fanfic #muddyorbs writes #fic requests

[monzamash]

say yes to life — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x you (femreader) | 2.2k summary – a trip down memory lane. warnings – 18+ (sex, coarse language) prompt – 'you look good like this' from @percervall 💖 a/n – the third instalment of the #monzamashspecial and exists in the red desert universe (throwback to where this little blog began) x title inspired by the gang of youths song. masterlist

You wanted so badly to go back to the place you fell in love with him. Missing the way the campfire smoke blowing in the wind made your eyes water and the screams of elation coming from the water out in the distance. Daniel loved so freely; pottering around the campsite making sure everyone was happy, content, having the time of their lives. Especially you.

The two of you had only been seeing each other for a few months, a whirlwind romance turning all the traditional rules of dating on their head. He wanted to see you in his world, away from the lavish hotels and the fast-paced lifestyle that you both hated so much. Away from civilisation as you knew it, with him, alone in the wilderness with a case of Dry, singing around bonfires and sharing kisses hidden under the stars.

No manmade structures as far as the eye could see – just the handsome man who had picked you up and swept you off your feet to the other side of the world. Returning home.

“It’s so serene out here… Peaceful.”

Your unspoken wish was to stay out here forever with him, tasting the sea salt on his lips and feeling the sand beneath your sunburnt feet. Even though it was quintessentially Daniel, right down to the number 3 painted on the side of his buggy, it also felt like you. Like you belonged in his world, the missing part to life's puzzle.

Somehow, he had found you amongst the chaos, in the hoards of people taking everything from him. Every ounce of energy he had to give. But you never took anything. And he knew in that moment that this place would never feel the same without you in it.

You were his home.

“I knew you would love it.”

He whispered it into your windswept hair as you walked along the coast, hand in hand, watching his nieces and nephew splashing in the shallow water; zinc covering every inch of their little faces.

Daniel had promised you a night alone together before you left Perth for your road trip to Coral Bay, wording up his brother in law that the two of you would be sneaking off down the coast for some alone time.

I wanna show her everything, man; he'd confessed, feeling the pressure to make every second count, right down to the minute. You were laid-back and much to his surprise, his exact energy match but he wanted you to know him. Like, really know him. He wanted to tell you all of his silly little stories like the time he nearly cut his toe open on that rock over there, or when he swore he saw the ghost of Harold Holt out beyond the rip. He wanted to share it all with you.

And while he was worried about giving you the full Daniel Ricciardo experience, you were just basking in the chance to get to know him like this. God, it felt personal, intentional the way he pointed out little fishing spots that he and his dad would sit all day in the summer holidays, chasing the shade and shooting the shit; almost always catching nothing.

“One time I caught a crayfish but it was undersize so had to throw it back… Absolute heartbreak and I lied to everyone at school when we got back in Jan – said it was this big.”

Daniel held his arms out as wide as they would go, chest out and a smile as bright as the glowing sun above, “They all saw straight through me.”

Those small, insignificant stories he thought he was telling meant the world to you. It was a glimpse into the life of a man you were falling in love with, getting closer and closer to with each passing moment. They were off the cuff tales of his childhood, mentions of Michelle and his mum making lime cordiale icy-poles, homemade no less and each one made you smile wider. Buzzing with the thought that maybe, right now, you were making memories that you would pass down to your kids.

Someday.

“Are you ready for this?”

“Maybe we should have a safe word…”

“The same one we use when we...”

You didn’t need to stop his sentence, knowing that he knew better than to finish it with his 8-year-old nephew sitting on his lap – the smirking face showing his hand. The deadpanned look you were giving him made him laugh as he leaned down and turned on the van, shoving the gear stick into place so you didn’t plummet to your death down the cliffside.

The feeling was evergreen when you casted your mind back to that day, remembering the way Jonty jumped down from Daniel’s lap and all your travel companions waved you off, hollering I miss you already and don’t get lost as the two of you drove off into the red desert, even further from civilisation. You'd all been joined at the hip for over a week now, the idea of going it alone terrified you - until you remembered that all you needed was sitting right beside you.

Ready to show you what real adventure meant.

And boy, was it an adventure, weaving through saltbushes and spotting kangaroos from the passenger seat.

“Reckon you could fight one?” You’d ask Daniel, curious to know where the boundaries of his confidence lie, “Easy.” And part of you believed him – he could do it all, fearless as he drove up and over salt plains, making you squeal as the van hopped up a 90 degree cliff, all you could see was the clear blue sky above.

“You trust me, yeah?” He asked, looking down at your hand white knuckling his thigh, long nails digging into his bare skin. I do, you whispered with conviction because you did. Wholeheartedly, but that didn’t mean your heart wasn’t in your throat the entire time, wheels screeching as the van bumped it’s way over the ledge, revving red dirt and creating a cloud of dust.

“We’re here,” Daniel cheekily announced as the dust settled and you were met with a picturesque view of the ocean – waves crashing into the cliff side, already lulling your racing heart. It was adrenaline, pure and simple. You were dazed and confused until you felt Daniel’s hand on yours, clasping your fingers with his and asking if you were okay.

You were more than okay.

“I am… that was exhilarating.”

You were wide-eyed, stunned at how beautiful it all was; how beautiful he was. You didn’t even think twice, frantically unbuckling your belt and launching yourself over the console into Daniel’s body. He could see in your eyes how charged up you were when he grasped your face in his hands, desperate to have you close after a couple of long hours of driving. You melted into his kiss until your knee accidentally nudged the gear stick, lurching the van forward.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Daniel gasped, a loud laugh following closely behind as you held onto him for dear life. Whoops, he chuckled as he turned the van off and grabbed a handful of the flannel material hanging loosely over your shoulders, matching his. In one smooth motion, he was dragging you over the gear stick again; carefully this time and making sure you were settled in his lap before he captured your lips in a strong kiss, continuing what you started.

“What a view.”

Daniel’s compliments always made you blush, still to this day but back then they washed over you like a wave of reassurance, that he felt the same way – desperately in love. Almost. They were never obnoxious or over the top, just small little words of affirmation sealed with a kiss to some inch of your skin, noses brushing from the nearness. And now every time you felt the tip of his nose tracing down your neck, breath hot on your skin, you remember that day. Like it was yesterday. The way his hands pushed up your shirt, fingertips searing across your hips and holding you up so you could really feel him.

“Thought about this all week,” He whispered as your hand made quick work of his jeans, shimming him out of the thick denim and the boxers hugging his delicious hips. Me too, you barely hummed as you arched your back and tried to rid yourself of your own shorts, accidentally pushing back on the horn and making the two of you erupt in laughter.

Daniel wrapped one arm around your waist and leaned to look under his seat, roughly pulling a lever that sent him backwards and you forward over his shoulder, a quiet squeak slipping from your lips. He could do it all and looked even sexier doing it.

“That’s better, ey?” He asked, grinning from ear to ear as he leaned back in his seat and slid his warm hands under your shirt, squeezing your sides so that you knew he had you. Always.

“Much,” You simply sighed as your fingers danced down his own buttoned up flannel shirt. One by one, each button revealed more and more of his strong chest, mouth agape at the sight of the man you were falling for, head over heels. He did the same to yours, pushing the soft material from your shoulders and reaching behind your back, unclasping the latch on your cotton bra, the feeling of his fingertips sliding it from your warm skin sending chills down your spine.

“You look good like this.”

That was the first time he muttered those words to you but now it was something he told you every single day. They were the first words he would whisper in your ear in the morning as the dawning sun-rays stretched across your rosy cheeks and they were sometimes the last words he’d groan into your neck as he came undone above you, shortly before you fell asleep wrapped up in his arms. “You look so good.”

“Show me,” You whispered against his parted lips, “Show me how good I look.” It was a simple request, one you hoped to god he would fulfil. It was your first time having sex in the driver’s seat of a car, but not your last as it happened. Daniel was nimble, able to shimmy himself into the perfect position, teasing you with his slick tip, glazed with the promise of you wrapped around him. It turned out that he loved taking you like this; in a van, in his HiLux, on the back of a motorbike but especially in his Porsche. Seats back, windows steamy.

You were two pieces of a puzzle, cut from the same cloth and it made you emotional thinking back to the early days. The way his cologne mixed with your perfume was like an amalgamation of pure love, the scent to this day making your heart flutter. And it always transported you back to that day in the van, so many years ago now. The taste of his tongue colliding with yours as he swallowed you whispered moans, hyper aware of how pin-drop quiet your surroundings were. There was nothing but ocean and desolate land each way – solus.

“No ones here, darlin’ – we can be as loud as we want,” Daniel reassured you, circling you back and forth on his cock, filling you to the absolute limit as you held onto the steering wheel behind you, needing to grip something as he set your body alight.

“Don’t think I can be quiet when you touch me like that.”

A moan slipped from your lips as Daniel licked the pads of his fingers and found your clit. Visions of that day come swirling back every time you touched yourself, conjuring a memory of him pushing you to the edge to help you along on those lonely nights without him. The angle, the intensity, the intention to get you off as quickly as humanely possible, knowing round two would be taking place in the back of the van shortly after – desperation spurred you on.

The darkness in his eyes as he watched you squirm, rutting on his dick without a single care in the world but to make yourself feel good. That vision of you above him inspired his own high to build, the knotting in his stomach undeniable as you lurched forward and licked the soft skin below his ear, curls damp from sweat, skin salty and freckled from your day spent under the sun. It was unforgiving, the way your orgasm began to crescendo, riding it out slow.

Wanting this moment to last. Etched in your memory forever.

“I’m coming, Dan.”

You didn’t really need to say it because he knew. He knew from the way you gripped the roof of the car and controlled the way his hips moved with yours, holding your ground and keeping that toe curling pace he’d been teasing you with. He also knew from the violent blush creeping up your bare chest and the way your eyebrows stitched together in concentration. Identical to his, mouth left agape and in complete awe of how fucking unreal it all felt. Heavenly.

“I’m coming too, baby. Fuck, right there...” Daniel’s breath was jagged, curls unkempt from your fingertips doing their worst. Tangled and dark, a mess pressed between your foreheads as you leaned down and kissed him through your high, aching to have him close as you came undone, hips rolling and squeezing everything you had to give and taking back just as much. He always had a lotta love to give.

“I love you.” You whimpered in the afterglow. And it was the first time you’d ever said that to someone like him, someone you genuinely loved with your entire heart. Someone who, without a second thought, said it back; I love you more.

There were a lot of firsts on that trip to Coral Bay, ones that you cherished until this very day, standing in the spot where it all happened. 10 years of memories all rolled into a camper van and a couple of swags. Reams of sheets messy from reliving it all, indulging like you did as young twenty-something’s, now with real life responsibilities and on the precipice of your whole life changing.

“I can’t wait to bring her here.”

Daniel swept your hair behind your ear as you cuddled into his side, the same sound of the waves lapping against the cliff below like they did back then, lulling you into serenity again. He smiled and cradled your cheek with one hand, and your growing belly with the other. Enamoured beyond comprehension, speechless by how strongly he felt and content with where his future was headed. With you and the family you were starting together.

“I know she’s going to love it. Just like her mum.”

But for now, you could be those kids again. Dumb and falling in love. Sharing kisses under the starry night sky, holding each other close, reliving the good times and most importantly, saying yes to life.

Just like you did back where it all began.

a//n – it's danny ric week so it felt fitting to release this on the eve of the ausgp. thank you to mar and the anon who requested the prompts used in this fic. love ya's x masterlist | askbox

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 smut #daniel ricciardo one shot #monzamashmasterlist #the monzamash special #dr3 #f1 writing

[imaginecolby]

quietly || c.b.

summary: you were the shy type, comparatively to colby’s social status. but he loved you no matter what.

requested by anonymous.

how you found yourself in the relationship you were in was confusing, but you were never one to complain. you were with someone who was very much in the spotlight, and had minimal privacy, which was the exact opposite of who you were. you were more the shy, quiet, reserved type, and how your boyfriend developed feelings for you was still a shock.

again, you were never one to complain.

you and colby had met a few years ago, quite literally bumping into each other at a coffee shop. your meeting felt like it was out of a tv show or work of fiction, as your drinks crushed between you and spilled onto the floor.

"oh god, i am so sorry." he said, embarrassed as the two of your picked the trash up from the floor. he turned to the barista and alerted them of the mess.

"no, i was on my phone and not paying attention. it's okay." you said, scooping trash into your hand before moving it to the can, barely looking up at the stranger.

you cleaned up as much of the trash as you could before someone came over to mop. you and colby apologized profusely for making a mess. they told you not to worry about it, and they were thankful you at least attempted to clean up some.

colby got back in line to reorder his drinks and insisted paying for another drink for you as well. you took him up on his offer, standing with him while you waited. you made idle and awkward conversation while you did so.

colby was seemingly a very nice man, and you were sure that your reluctance to answer his questions was pushing him away. but you didn't know how to hold conversation with strangers. you didn't want to seem to eager or accidentally overshare.

"im sorry for staining your shirt, but i hope this makes up for it a little bit." colby said, handing you your drink.

"it's okay. this is an old shirt anyway." you laughed, shrugging your shoulders. you exchanged your goodbyes and went on your way.

you and colby ended up crossing paths many times over the next few months. you realized quickly that you must've lived near each other, because you kept running into each other at restaurants and stores, and a couple more times at the same coffee shop.

all that to say that you and him had a very unusual start, but over the years you'd grown very close. you became quick friends and eventually began dating.

a few years into your relationship, you were out with colby, sam, and katrina, having been invited to a house party of some friends of theirs.

throughout the night, you and katrina hung out mostly with each other, as colby mingled with the guests, making small talk with some people he knew. after a while, he met you back in the kitchen, mixing both you and him fresh drinks.

"you enjoying yourself?" he asked you. you nodded, a small "mhm" escaping your lips.

"katrina and i have been talking to a bunch of people. katrina mostly, but im enjoying listening to the conversations." you said. you didn't want to admit it to him, but you were feeling a little overwhelmed with your surroundings, and wished you could call it a night and head home. he knew you wouldn't admit it, but he could tell that you were ready to go.

you watched as colby glanced down at his watch, noting the time. "we'll probably head out soon. sam and i will make the rounds, say bye, and i'll come find you." he said, wrapping an arm around you and pressing a kiss to your temple.

"i love you." you said quietly as he walked off.

he found sam and the two of them made their way around the house, wrapping up conversations and saying their good byes.

just as he was about to make his way back to you, colby heard someone calling his name. he turned to find some guy he'd met in the social media space maybe once or twice. definitely not someone he really considered a friend.

"hey, what's up man?" he asked, stopping at the guy who had called out to him. they talked for a little bit, exchanging pleasantries.

"so, i met your girl earlier." the guy said, his glance shifting towards the kitchen. colby followed his gaze and his eyes landed on you. his heart stuttered in his chest, just looking at you was enough to make him nervous.

"y/n." colby corrected, but the guy ignored him.

"is she always that quiet? it felt like she was judging me the whole time we were talking. it was kinda off-putting."

"she's quite shy, yes, but it normally doesn't take long for her to warm up to people. if you felt like she was judging you, then maybe that's on you." colby said with a shrug, walking away before the guy had another chance to speak. he made his way to the kitchen, meeting back up with you and katrina. sam had joined as well, and the four of you were ready to go.

once you got back home, you were in the bathroom getting ready for bed. you'd finished taking off your makeup and washing your face, and you moved to the closet to grab your pajamas. as you were changing, you heard colby walk into the bathroom.

"hey, who was that guy you were talking to just before we left? it looked like he said something that pissed you off." you asked. you stood behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"i dont even remember his name, i’ve only met him a couple other times. he said that he talked to you a little bit at some point during the night," his eyes met yours in the mirror and you nodded in confirmation, "and that it felt like you were judging him because of how quiet you were in the midst of the conversation."

"well, he did seem kinda douchey, so," you laughed quietly before moving to the bedroom.

"that's the same thing i told him. i told him that it normally doesn't take you long to warm up to people, and if he felt that way, then it was probably his own doing." colby said, climbing into bed next to you.

"i appreciate you defending my character." you said with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pulled him into your chest and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"i always will." he said, kissing you again. "i love you."

"i love you." you repeated. you turned your back to him as he pulled you into his chest, his lips pressing to your cheeks as he kissed you good night.

you wished that your demeanor didn't turn people, strangers especially, off from wanting to talk to you. but you appreciated that colby would always stick up for you.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction

[azullumi]

ayato, diluc, childe + alhaitham — playing horror games ☆彡

summary — you invited him to play a horror game with you to which he accepted. now, what will your experience with him will be?

characters — ayato, diluc, childe + alhaitham (w/ gender neutral reader)

tags — fluff, modern, multiple mentions of the word "game"; headcanons

word count — 1225

a/n — i hate the amount of times i used the word game because i couldn't find another word for it. nevertheless, enjoy!

KAMISATO AYATO

Apparently, there was a new game released and it captured the hearts of horror-games enthusiasts and you wanted to try it out, however, the game is hard to clear on your own so you had invited Ayato.

A horror game? Sure, he doesn't mind. He has played a few ones with his sister and Thoma before and it's been a long time since the last time he went through one. 

At first, he's interested and curious but then when he starts playing, there's just confusion. He's just confused, not in a confused type wherein he doesn’t know what to do throughout the game but the type wherein he doesn’t know what is happening and is unaware of the events of the game. Are horror games really like this? As far as he can remember, these are supposed to be much scarier and frightening.

“Oh… Was that a jumpscare?”

He’s bored not until he witnessed your reactions so instead of focusing more on the game, his attention and eyes are all on you. He wants to see more of it so he purposely fails some parts of the game so you two could restart and have to go through it all again. Witnessing the change in your expressions and seeing the way you react is honestly so entertaining for him. Mans out here living the best life while you’re suffering.

Eventually, you’ll notice it. How he intentionally fails and suddenly becomes a bad player once you two get through the extreme parts. It took you quite some time to see through his tricks as you weren’t thinking much about it, however, he doesn’t admit it easily and will probably never do so.

“Are you trying to lose on purpose?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking abou— Ah, I died again. Looks like we’ll have to restart.”

DILUC RAGNVINDR

It doesn't take much persuading just to get him to play a game— a horror one to be exact— with you. He doesn’t mind it anyways and it’s not like he’s the type to get scared easily. It’s just some simple game with some scary components embedded in it.

At first, it was dead silence. You don’t know if he’s scared or just focused on clearing the game. However, the answer was the latter as he is unfazed by the jumpscares of the game and was more focused on the objectives. While you’re out there getting startled at every noise, whether loud or not, he’s focused on solving the puzzles and determining how to attain victory.

He guides you on what to do and even encourages you so that you won’t be scared. He doesn’t leave you behind and if ever you die at some part and you two have to restart, he’ll just say it’s okay and you two won’t have a hard time playing through it as you already know what you’re supposed to do. He’s honestly so sweet and gentle while playing and it just eases your mind knowing that you can rely on him.

“Are you scared? Come closer.”

“It’s okay, you can do this.”

He’ll let you lean on him though or hide yourself behind him. You’ll often block your point of view by using his arms as a cover whenever you feel like something scary will pop up on your screen and he will just let you be, looking at you with a soft smile on his face. He knows this isn’t the time for that but he just can’t help but think how adorable you are when you’re scared.

“You can open your eyes now, there’s no more jumpscare.”

Truly a reliable teammate.

CHILDE

He's the chatty type of person while playing, would often say remarks filled with confidence and would reassure you that you just have to follow him from behind and he can finish the game in no time. He's so confident and sure of himself that when you two started playing, you were relaxed because of the things he had said. God, you wish you didn't believe him.

He's the type to treat the game like it's some sort of comedy show and would laugh at certain elements of the game that are supposed to be scary. He makes fun of the “ghosts” and would challenge them to scare him. However, once he really gets to the jumpscare and intense parts, he becomes silent.

Then he goes back to being the normal chatty person that he is. He doesn't want to admit the fact that he is scared, especially after all that talk he did. He’ll convince you that he isn’t frightened at all and would attempt to regain his composure. It’s honestly cute how he tries his best to look strong and reliable.

You can’t help but tease him while playing, saying things that will scare him. Poke him for a bit and he suddenly jumps startled which also scares you.

"Archons above, (Name)! You just can't do that!"

"I just poked you."

After finishing the game, he'll just laugh and say, "that's all?" before asking you to watch a movie with him next. However, you shook your head and showed him the next game that you two are going to play and unfortunately for him, it’s a horror one again and it was a continuation of the previous one. He doesn’t have any choice but to play it with you.

“Don’t worry, if you’re too scared, you can cling to me.”

“Shut up.”

ALHAITHAM

He doesn't see the sense of even willingly playing horror games despite the fact that you'll just get scared, nevertheless, he still plays with you because why not. It’s not like he’ll die if he did. Maybe he'll end up seeing something interesting or maybe he just wants to see how you’ll react.

He’s the type to tease you by suddenly scaring you in tense and terrifying parts of the game then pretends that he didn’t do anything. At these times, the thought of how Alhaitham can be a little shit goes through your head and if you weren’t that scared right now and not leaning on him and using him as some sort of cover, you would have smacked him right on the head.

He’s expressionless, he’s unaffected by the horror factors of the game and would just continue on like nothing happened.

“It’s not that scary, (Name). It’s just a mannequin.”

“Look, there’s nothing terrifying here. It’s just the wind.”

You don’t know if you should be thankful for his comments because it was helping you to replace your fear with irritation. However, you can’t get mad at him because Alhaitham… Alhaitham was extremely helpful in clearing the game especially on the hardest parts and would tell you what you should do to avoid having to restart. Sometimes, he’ll throw in some words of encouragement here and there to further encourage you.

Despite the small yet constant bickerings and teasings, it didn’t take you long to finish the game. He thinks it was boring but if you were going to invite him to another one, he won't complain nor even hesitate in joining you. 

“Let’s play another one.”

“Aren’t you scared already from the one we just played?”

He still doesn’t understand how you still want to play these games knowing the fact that you’ll just be frightened the whole time you’re playing though.

— navigation | masterlist

#ayato x reader #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #alhaitham #childe #tartaglia x reader #genshin ayato #kamisato ayato #diluc headcanons #diluc ragnivindr #childe headcanons #ayato headcanons #alhaitham headcanons #azul.writes

[16bruises]

Remembrance

word count: 903

Part 2 to Descent

important information for writers who use google docs

Miguel drowns in a man-made ocean of hurt

“There is no grief like the grief that does not speak”

-Henry Longfellow

For the longest time, I felt like a voyeur. I watched a man who I shared my face with live the life I’d always wanted. I watched every beautiful moment, every sad moment, every quiet moment, every moment I could.

I had been so sure that every Miguel O’Hara in the multiverse was destined to suffer. But this one, this lucky cabrón. He had everything. He had a perfect life. A beautiful wife, a beautiful baby, everything was so god damned beautiful. I couldn’t help the resentment, the jealousy I felt towards this man.

Then that fateful moment…

I could’ve blinked and missed it…

It happened so fast and that man I shared a face with was gone.

But I remained. I couldn’t just watch anymore, I had to do something. The man I had once shared a face with wouldn’t be there to protect his wife or baby girl. But I could. Like nothing even happened. Who would want the mother of their baby to suffer and mourn their loss when a near-exact clone could be there? I loved them so much already.

My precious Gabriella and (y/n) never noticed I had stepped in for the man I shared a face with.

Every day with them was so perfect. I loved my beautiful wife and daughter. They were everything and more. I would’ve done anything for them.

I wish I could say I did everything I could to save my family. But I know I didn’t do enough. (Y/n) made it, I still could’ve done more for her but still- she made it. Gabriella… oh Gabriella. My baby girl. I didn’t save my baby girl. She was in my arms one moment and then she was gone.

Her own mother doesn’t even know she’s gone. I didn’t do enough, I don’t deserve to feel bad for myself. Yet I can’t help the gut-wrenching grief that consumes me every day.

I wish I did more for my baby girl, I wish I did more for my (y/n), I wish I did more for their world.

I often find myself wishing that their Miguel hadn’t died. Wishing my Gabriella’s father wasn’t taken from her without her ever knowing. Wishing (y/n)’s Miguel hadn’t made a simple mistake that cost him his life with her.

I love her more than he did though, I know I do. I fell for her before she was mine and I fell for her again every day once I got her. Her Miguel made a small but fatal mistake. He died and left her. I won’t let myself die, I won’t leave her.

The day (y/n) and Gabriella’s world was destroyed was the worst day of my life but I know someday soon it’ll have some competition for that title.

(y/n)‘s glitching gets worse every day, it’s only a matter of time until her body can’t handle the glitches anymore. That day might be worse.. but I’ll enjoy the moments I have with her until then. I’ll figure out which moment was worse once she’s gone.

-

If (y/n) knew what I did to that boy- Miles. I think she’d be more mad at me than she was before her world ended.

God, she screamed at me while I forced that dimensional travel watch onto her wrist. She couldn’t even look at me. I told her everything, she knew I wasn’t her Miguel, I wasn’t her baby’s father, and I was an alien in her home. She knew I watched her husband die and then took his place. She knew I had watched them live their beautiful life. She knew I fell in love with her through a screen in another universe. Yet, she still trusted me to protect her and Gabriella.

It’s horrible but it’s probably for the best that (y/n) doesn’t know that Gabriella is gone. I don’t think she’d be able to function if she remembered what happened. I wish there was someone else who remembers the moments I had with her and our Gabriella. But I’d rather have my (y/n) still love me, hold me, and talk about our baby girl like she’s just at school or soccer than have her know that her world ended and Gabriella is gone.

This situation… it’s too much. She wouldn’t understand. She couldn’t. It’s starting to seem like nobody completely understands the importance of maintaining canon.

(y/n) definitely wouldn’t. I don’t know how I could even explain myself to her. I admit, I went too far.

But Miles- He’s the reason Earth 42 doesn’t have a Spiderman! He’s the reason his Earth’s Peter Parker is dead! He’s responsible for anomalies across the multiverse!

He doesn’t- I should’ve explained better. I should’ve spoken to him one on one.

But that boy was never going to understand! The moment he found out what NEEDED to be done to protect his universe from total destruction he was never going to agree! There was nothing I could have done. Miles was never going to listen to reason.

He’s already caused too many problems-

Who knows everything he’s caused?! He could’ve sped up (y/n)‘s glitches!

She could be gone faster because of him!

I’ve accepted that she’ll be gone one day, but I will NOT LOSE HER SOONER THAN I HAVE TO.

ESPECIALLY NOT BECAUSE SOME ANOMALY WANTS TO BE SELFISH

#miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #astv fic #astv fanfic #astv miguel #astv spoilers #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 angst #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara atsv #miguel x reader angst #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #angst #spiderman x reader angst