#i didn’t even mention how i got put off the food i ate before i left so then i left hungry and i ate my snack that i should have left for my

[sunglassesmish]

i am having SUCH a shitty day so far. i woke up to my period and whilst that probably led to some of what happened next, it’s just making everything else seem even worse than it probably is.

anyways so i got a new card today. i’ve been needing to withdraw some money but my old card had a very low limit. so with this new one i was hoping to withdraw a lot more on my way to work, because there is a machine only 5 minutes walk from my house. but then i remember i have to go to work early because my manager asked if i could as someone had to leave early for an appointment. i said yes because it’s just two hours. so i would have to start at 2 instead of my usual 4pm start.

so i leave my house at 1 15 thinking i’ll quickly go and withdraw some money and then be on my way. but then i get there and the line is so long and people are taking forever and some lady cuts the line and i glare at her. but then i leave because i think i’m going to be late for work.

so i start walking but i have to use google maps because i’m walking a different route than i normally take. but of course i don’t know how to follow directions so i’m confused as fuck. anyways i finally get to an area where i know the way without a map, so i think ok i’ll check the schedule and see who’s working with me today. and then i look. and i realise the day i have to work earlier is next thursday. so now it’s 1 30 and i’m 1/3 of the way to work and i’m annoyed as fuck. now i still have to withdraw money and i have to walk all the way back to the machine and then go home and wait an hour and a half and then walk to work for an 8 hour shift.

so i walk the long way around back to the machine. and then of course i have to wait in another line, except this one isn’t as long and i FINALLY get my card in. but then it takes a little too long for the screen to say anything and i’m thinking oh god it ate my card. BUT THEN IT SAYS MY CARD IS FAULTY AND I HAVE TO CONTACT MY BRANCH AND I’VE JUST WALKED ALL THIS WAY AND NOW I HAVE TO GO BACK HOME AND I STILL HAVEN’T WITHDRAWN ANY MONEY.

so i walk the 5 minutes back to my house and i’m speed walking because i’m so enraged i feel like i’m gonna swear or scream now that i’ve wasted 40 minutes walking for no reason and all in the cold and pouring rain.

#i didn’t even mention how i got put off the food i ate before i left so then i left hungry and i ate my snack that i should have left for my #work break #and that my earphones were out of charge and i couldn’t charge them because i was in public and my earphone charger wasn’t charged either #and how my umbrella broke whilst i was in the line for the machine and this was a new umbrella because my old one broke #and i haven’t even got to work yet

[zeltqz]

selfish | haitani ran

synopsis. haitani ran wants you, but can't have you because it would be considered selfish. content. 12k words (listen ik its long just hear me out..), fem!reader, friends to enemies to lovers, mild fwb situation gone wrong, ran's mother is in prison and gives shitty advice, implied sexual harassment (some creepy junkie, nothing happens though), mildly toxic ran, possessiveness, alcohol mentions, ran says hurtful things when he's drunk. NSFW content. authors note. this was inspired by an ask that i changed up a little because i LUV drama, so anon if you see this and recongise the plot creds to uuuuuuuuuuuuuuu for the idea!!!!

You were jolted awake by the violent buzz of your phone, muffled by your pillow. You groggily sat up, wiping your eyes and slapped around under your pillow for your phone. Carefully, you rolled to the far edge of your bed and answered. 

“Hello?”

“Come down. I’m outside.”

“Ran it’s…2 in the morning.”

“Just come. I want to talk to you.”

You slipped from your bed, yawning and grabbing your house keys on the way out. Once you were outside, the instant regret of not bringing a jacket hit you as you shivered from the cold. You were about to run back inside, but decided against it when you saw Ran’s car parked at the end of the road, the lights on and the windshield wipers actively wiping away the snow. 

You resisted the urge to dramatically slam the door shut when you got in the car. “There better be a zombie apocalypse happening right now if you think waking me up at 2 am was a good idea.”

“So I can only contact you when the world is ending?”

“At 2am, yes.” You leaned your head back against his car seat, mindlessly closing your eyes to savour onto the lingering signs of sleep. “Why’re you even here? I thought you were out of town.”

“I had plans.” He drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. 

“Like plans or ‘plans’?” His smile turned into a smirk and you grimaced. “Ew don’t touch me.”  He laughed playfully and gestured at your seatbelt. You put it on as he started the car, pulling out onto the main road. 

“So where are you taking me anyway?” you asked, plucking at a loose thread on your pyjama bottoms. 

“Nowhere in particular. Just driving around.”

“Cool. So why am I here then?”

“Wanted company. Is that so wrong?” 

You looked his way, wondering if he was being serious right now. “Why didn’t you call your brother then? Or literally anybody else.”

“Because I wanted to see you.” He glanced in your direction, seeing the stunned expression on your face that you quickly fixed when you realised he was staring. 

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah sure. Whatever.” You yawned and turned to the side to lean against the window. 

“If you’re tired you can sleep.”

“I don’t wanna fall asleep on you. That’s rude.” Another yawn. “I’ll manage it.”

“You hungry?” he asked, pulling up towards a late night fast food drive-thru across the street. 

“Kinda. Now that I think about it, I barely ate all day.”

“Don’t know how you do it honestly.” He was plucking at his baby hairs as he slowed the car to a stop. “Alright whaddya want.” 

You peeked past his body to look at the menu on the wall, the bright lights straining your tired eyes. “Literally anything. I don’t care.” He clicked his tongue and stared at you. You sighed. “I don’t want you to waste money on me.”

“Don’t stress,” he said, waving off your concern with a wave of his hand. You settled in your seat as he rolled down the window. You were distractedly scrolling on your phone to pass time as he spent the next five minutes ordering. 

Looking up, you saw he already had the bag of food on his lap, but instead of handing it to you, his arm is leaning against the window, smirking as he talks to the cashier working the drive-thru. She has her finger twirling her hair, leaning so far from the narrow window you’re surprised she hasn’t fallen out yet. 

“Hello?? Can we go?!” you snapped. 

“Oh, sorry.” The girl leered in your direction, taking you back momentarily before she fixed her features in time when she looked back at Ran. “It was nice meeting you,” she said softly, her voice lacking the same venomous tone she gave you earlier.

“Pleasure meeting you too. See you around beautiful.” You don’t know if he winked or did his signature smirk at her, but it was something of that nature because she had to fan herself to calm the redness on her face as his car began driving off.

You took the bag of food from his lap and ripped it open. “Do you really have to flirt with every girl you meet?”

“Someone sounds jealous.” You weren’t even looking in his direction but you could envision the shit eating grin of his face when he said that.

“I’m not jealous. I just know how to keep it in my pants and not go around flirting with every guy I meet.” You bit the packaging of the straw and poked it in your drink more aggressively than you intended.

“Have you maybe thought that’s because you just suck at flirting?” 

You almost choked on your drink with how quick you moved your head to face him. “I don’t suck at flirting!”

He snorted, taking one hand off the wheel to support his head as he leaned against the door. “Sureeeeeeeee.”

“Don't say sure like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t believe me!”

He shrugged. “I don’t.” He stopped the car at a red light. “Show me how you flirt then.”

You stared down at the food in your hands, contemplating if you should. When you looked up, you saw him already staring at you, waiting. “Fine.” You wiped your hands and set your food back down, putting it back in the takeout bag before shifting to face him on your seat. 

You cleared your throat, readying yourself to speak. The second you opened your mouth, it was like your mind blanked and you instantly closed it again. “This is too embarrassing. I can’t.”

“It’s only embarrassing if you make it embarrassing,” he responded back, shifting his attention back on the road when the light changed to green.

“No. I just know you’re going to laugh at me if I do it.”

“No I won’t.” He put a hand over his heart. “Scouts honour”

“You’re so ridiculous,” you grumbled but laughed nonetheless. “Okay, I’ll do it once we get home. I need time to prepare.”

Ran seemed to agree with that and in the fifteen minutes it took you to get home, you finished your food. He was parked outside your house across the street and you were idly sipping at your drink.

“Alright, ready?” He turned the engine off, leaving the radio still on.

“Wait this is my favourite song.” You inched forward to turn the volume up only to recoil when he slapped your hand away. “What the hell?!”

“Stop stalling.” He ignored the frustrated look on your face. “Show me already. I didn’t drive you here for nothing.”

“You shouldn’t have driven here at 3 in the morning anyway!”

“So ungrateful.” He pinched your nose with two fingers, laughing when you swatted him away. “Show meeee.”

“Okay fine! Fine!” You set your drink in the cupholder and turned to look at him. “I actually don’t know how to flirt.”

“Had a feeling.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Want me to teach you,” he asked gently, looking directly into your eyes. You found it hard to look away in that moment, like so much was riding on your answer. 

You nodded slowly. “Yeah… okay…”

“Alright. Guys love it when you’re confident and can hold eye contact. So hold eye contact as much as you can, but don’t stare like a creep. That shit’s weird. Show ‘em you’re engaged in the conversation when they’re talking about themselves and just stare into their eyes. Shit, that even gets me all fuzzy when a girl knows how to hold it. Had me stutterin’ and shit once.”

You blinked and envisioned a stuttering, flustered Ran in your mind. “Really? Eye contact? That’s all?” He shrugged and nodded. “That sounds really hard to believe honestly.”

“Really?” You nodded. “Reaaaally?” he repeated, extra slow, giving you enough time to back out when you have the chance.

“Yes. Reaaaaally Ran.”

“Tell me what you did today.”

You crossed your arms and looked up at the ceiling. “Well…I woke up this morning…I went to work, had lunch, worked until 4, then came home and studied.”

“In detail.”

“Is that really necessary?” you complained, but the look on his face was completely serious. Sighing, you settled back into your seat. “Okay so I went to bed late as fuck last night and I woke up at like 12 which was so bad because my shift started in fifteen minutes. So I wondered whether or not I should go and—”

“Look at me when you talk.”

You were about to slap him. You sighed and turned to look at him. 

“I went to back late last night and woke up at like…” Your mind blanked, and you struggled to find your words or remember what the hell you did hours ago with him looking so intently at you. “...11 ish? Which was—”

“You said it was 12, no?” he tilted his head, his stare unwavering.

You gulped. “Yes. Sorry. I woke up at 12 and my shift started at 12:15.” Your face burned. Just what the hell was wrong with you. In that moment, you felt like you were out of your own body, spirit you watching as you did nothing but blink uselessly at Ran. You fought the urge to slap yourself and ignore his slutty mind tricks. 

You looked down at your lap only to have him lift your face back to him with a single finger. “You’re not done with your story yet.”

“...right…right.” You cleared your throat again. He leaned forward, forearms resting on the steering wheel, locking his gaze on you. Was Ran always this hot? Surely you’ve noticed it before but not like this, where your mind is focusing only on him, and pushing all other stray thoughts out of the way 

You inhaled deeply and regained composure. “And I briefly considered whether or not I should go in late…but my boss has been kinda mean to me lately and…”

He raised an eyebrow, nodding as he studied your face, and urged you to continue when you stopped talking.

“...so I went in and finished my shift. My boss wasn’t too mad at me which was good I guess.”

“Then what?” His voice was purposefully different than usual, it was lower in that moment, throwing you off balance completely.

Your throat suddenly felt dry. “One second.” You grabbed your drink from before and began taking long sips from it, still feeling the intensity of his stare against the side of your face. Once you gulped half the drink down, you forcefully swallowed your burp, not wanting to ruin the weird, but heated atmosphere in the car with your natural bodily functions. 

“Then I went home to study for my exam on Thursday and fell asleep. Then your annoying ass woke me up and here I am.”

He laughed lightly, pulling back to return back to his seat. “How hard was that? Be honest.” His head rested back against the headrest, smirking at you. “Don’t lie now.”

You looked down at your lap, averting your eyes from his and refusing to make eye contact. You hated that you had to admit that it actually worked, his intense eye contact had actually effected you. He kept urging you until you persisted and you groaned inwardly. “Fine. It worked.”

“Seeeeee?” He jostled you playfully, and you smiled weakly. “I told ya. Anyway, want more advice?”

“There’s more?” Was the eye contact not enough? You didn’t even want to think how much power this man has. 

“Yeah. Say his name a lot. Drives me crazy when I hear a girl say my name.”

You snorted. “Sounds oddly narcissistic of you,” you retorted before you could catch yourself. “Sorry.”

“(Y/N),” he called your name in a deep, rumbling tone that had you internally shut down and log off. 

Once you came back, you grinned, impressed. “Wow…you’re good,” you admitted, subtly rubbing your hand along your arm to rid it of the goosebumps that seemed to sprout up whenever he spoke to you in that tone. “You’re actually a danger to society.”

“It’s fun making girls all flustered.” His hand rose to rest on your thigh. When you didn’t shrug it off or tell him to stop, his fingers began to caress softly against your skin. His touch felt electrifying, zapping through the fabric of your pyjama bottoms as he continued his actions.

“Something wrong?” he asked teasingly when he saw you struggle to control yourself, clenching your thighs together.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re not gonna tell me to stop?”

“No.”

“I see.” His thumb continued to stroke your inner thigh.

You don’t know what possessed you at that moment, but you grabbed his hand and placed it between your legs. He looked at you, confused and surprised at your sudden boldness. 

You pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, and whispered into his ear, “I can be seductive too, you know?”

Something in your words ignited a flame inside him, something primal and raw when your lips softly grazed down his ear. He turned his head to meet yours. 

“I’m sure you can be,”  he said softly, leaning in to kiss you gently. The kiss was only a soft press of his lips against yours, and your desire to want him to kiss you for real grew stronger by the second.

His hand moved down your body, helping you pass the console to straddle him. One hand slid down the back of his neck as you kissed each other hungrily, your tongue sliding out to meet his. He bit your bottom lip, gently sucking it while running his tongue along the inside of your mouth, slowly parting your lips with his. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out, pulling away to look down at him, resting your forehead against his. You went back in, and the kiss quickly turned heated, hungry and wild. “This doesn’t mean anything, right?” you asked, panting slightly.

He broke the eye contact to look down at his hands on your waist, sliding down to your hips and held you firmly in place, leaving no space between you. “Nah. Let’s just have fun.”

He cupped the back of your neck to bring you in for another kiss, your insides melting as your body temperature rose at the feeling of his rough hands working you over. He fumbled with the drawstrings of your pj bottoms until they loosened, slipping his hands inside, desperate to touch bare skin.

“No panties,” he grinned against your lips, giving you a peck when you flushed. 

“They’re uncomfortable at night…gotta let it breathe, you know?” you mumbled, looking down at his lap. 

He nudged your head up using his own and reattached his lips to yours. His hands continued to explore your body, roaming up and down your back, clutching at your waist. He placed his hand firmly on the back of your head, gilding your head movements into the kiss.

His thumb traced circles on the soft flesh on your hip as your mouth left his to plant open, wet kisses along his neck, teeth nipping and skimming when the radio thought it’ll be a wonderfully convenient idea to switch from the soft music it was playing earlier, to sudden heavy death metal, loud instruments and screaming booming through the car. 

You both jumped apart, your head smacked against the roof of the car, wailing as you winced when Ran started laughing. “It’s not funny!”

He doesn’t stop laughing because why would he, but he at least reached forward, your body on his lap following his movements as he turned the volume down.

“Why do you even have that on your playlist?!” 

“Rindou had a…phase. I hate it too, don’t worry.” 

You continued to rub the sore spot and pouted when you felt a headache blooming, already kissing goodbye to your good night’s sleep tonight. 

“Come here.” He smoothed a hand over the sore spot. “Better?”

“Kinda.” Your sour mood lessens and you start laughing, hiding your face in his shoulder. Your shoulders shook as you struggled to control your laughter. He laughed alongside you, his arms tightening around your body as he pulled you back against him. 

“That scared the living shit out of me,” you panted, finally catching your breath, kissing down the side of his neck. 

He turned his face to properly meet yours. You kissed him deeply, slowly rocking your hips with his as his strong hands squeezed tightly against your ass. After a while, you broke the kiss, your body now craving more than just kissing.

“Stop teasing me,” you complained, pushing him lightly on the chest.

“‘S fun seeing you so worked up,” he said with a shitty smirk, pressing a kiss to your neck. Your head lolled back as he steadily worked his way down the column of your throat, then down your chest.

His fingers bunched around the hem of your shirt, about to tug it off when you looked outside. The sun was still dark, but the promise of sunrise just around the corner as it rounded near 4 am. Obviously people wouldn’t be up and walking around this late, but the thought still made you stiffen.

“What’s wrong?” Ran asked, pausing with your shirt half way up your stomach.

“Can we go inside?” you asked, dragging the tips of your nails along the flat plane of his stomach. Despite having spent the last ten minutes making out with this man, the question implied more and your face burned when his eyes widened a bit. 

You looked down at your hands moving under his shirt, tracing patterns across his skin and bit down a giggle when he squirmed as you hit a particularly ticklish spot, poking his belly button. You took a mental note of that for later…

“You sure you wanna?” he asked carefully. You nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.” 

You quietly stumbled out of the car, holding his hand as you crossed the street to your house. You were fumbling with your keys, hard to find the keyhole in the darkness. It wasn’t helping your focus and accuracy with Ran behind you, fingers caressing your hips and waist, nipping at your neck. You let out a soft moan, giving up with your keys to lean your head back against his shoulder to give him more access before you quickly came to your senses.

“I need to open the door, go away,” you said with a huff, ignoring his laughter as you pushed him away. 

The door slammed shut and you locked it before pouncing on Ran, letting him press you up hard against the door as he hungrily devoured your mouth. His lips branded the soft skin of your neck as he dipped lower, carrying you to your bedroom. You were dropped mindlessly on your bed, bouncing from the impact as he hovered over you, your mind pleasantly blank as you focused solely on how badly you needed him right now.

His fingers slipped down your underwear and you saw stars.

~*~

As you were walking through the aisles of the grocery store, your music was interrupted by your phone ringing. You jerked your phone out from your jeans pocket to stare at the caller ID. Just a long string of numbers. 

“Who is this?” you asked suspiciously, racking your brain for a time you handed your number out to anyone you hadn’t saved.

“It’s Ran. What, forgot about me already?” 

Your mood immediately dampened and you clutched your phone tighter in your hand. “Why’re you calling me?”

“Easy with the hostility, man. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“And you couldn’t have done this, I dunno, in the two months you spent ghosting me? And don’t tell me “easy with the hostility”, I have a right to be fucking mad after you just hit and dipped like that.”

“Hit and dipped?”

“You ghosted me dumbass.”

You heard a loud exhale. “Right… yeah about that.”

“What do you want Ran?”

“I miss you.”

You almost forgot how to breathe. “Areyoufuckingkiddingmerightnow?”

“You heard me. I said I missed you.”

“Let me guess, there’s no other girls available right now, right? That’s why you’re bugging me?” It would be a wild accusation if not for the fact after that night you spent together, his phone buzzed incessantly, the constant vibrations waking you up and you saw notifications of girls in his inbox, sending him the usual “are you up?” text messages, followed up with images of themselves half naked.

He hummed. “Why would there be other girls? I’m talking to you right now.”

“Because you’re you.”

“Ok, but I’m serious though. I miss you a lot.” You found it so hard to give this man any sympathy.

“Well who’s fault is that? Nobody asked you to stop speaking to me after that night.”

“I know I know. I messed up. I just didn’t know how to approach you after that.” He sounded seriously stressed over this, and your face softened for a fraction of a moment before memories of you constantly checking your phone to see if he bothered to open your message yet reappear in your mind; just like that, your scowl is back, sympathy long gone.

“Right. Because THE Haitani Ran gets nervous after sex. Wow, shocker.”

“I mean, you were the best lay I ever had.”

Your traitorous heart stuttered without your permission, making your lips quirk up into a smile. “Really?” You cursed yourself for even entertaining his bullshit, and cursed your body even more for reacting in such a manner.

“Yeah, course you were.”

“Then why’d you ghost me? It’s like you want me to hate you. I swear to god for the life of me I’ll never under male logic.”

“It’s not male logic. ‘S just me, being a dumbass.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“This was different though because we were friends before we fucked, and I didn’t wanna make things weird. I had no clue how to text you after that.” You guessed that made sense, having felt the same awkwardness the morning after waking up sore with him beside you. 

“Oh. Well, it’s only weird if you make it weird.”

“Right. So…can I make it up to you?”

“How?”

“Let’s hang out.”

“Like hang out or ‘hang out’?” Part of you wanted it to be the first one, not wanting to ruin anymore awkwardness in your friendship by sleeping with each other again. But the other part of your body already was hellbent on it being the second, already addicted to the way he makes you feel in bed. 

“The former. But,” his voice dropped lower, “it can also be the latter, if you’re down.”

“I’m down,” you said a bit too quickly for someone trying to seem indifferent.

“Cool. See you tonight then.” 

Before you could say goodbye, he was already saying hi to someone else, and then hung up. Any negative emotions you felt for him was tempered by the excitement buzzing through your limbs as you continued shopping for groceries with a dopey smile on your face, happy you were able to patch things up.

~*~

Time passes since you both agreed to this weird friends with benefits arrangement. All awkwardness is stomped on and thrown out the window, now more open to the matter. Months go by of you losing yourself in his sheets, of him mapping out your body with his tongue, latching his mouth onto your skin and marking you all over. Months go by of you craving his touch whenever you’re alone, picturing his voice in your ear, his presence caging you from above when you’re with other men. Months go by of you both making plans, with you, more than him, staring at your phone the entire day, starting the mental countdown to when you’re next able to see him. 

Life is good for Ran, until the day he dreaded the most every year rolls around. The day he has to visit his mother in prison along with Rindou. Their meet-ups are nothing more than an annual thing, visiting her on her birthday every year. 

“So what have you been up to this year?” she asked disinterestedly. 

Ran could see right through her, can see she’s started using again if the bloodshot eyes and the not so subtle way she rubs her nose were any clue. 

“Good ma,” Rindou responded. “I’ve took up DJ’ing in a few of Dad’s clubs in my free time.”

At the mention of her ex-husband, she sneered. Rindou rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna do that every time I mention him ma?”

“I’ll react however the fuck I want when you bring up that passed around, dried up whore of a man,” she snapped. Rindou doesn’t react, already used to her mood swings and aggressive comments about his father. She jerked her head over to her weirdly quiet son. “And you? What’s your deal?”

“My deal?” Ran asked, matching her levels of indifference. 

“What have you been up to,” she repeated slower, like he was dumb. 

“Nothing.”

“What? Your life is that shit you haven’t done anything for the past year? Nothing at all?” She stared at Ran who responded with silence and a blank stare. “Even I’ve done shit and I’m stuck in this hell hole.”

“Well whose fault is that?” Ran snapped back. Rindou slapped his forehead.

“Listen here you—”

“Ran’s been seeing a girl ma,” Rindou said quickly, hoping that small drop of information about his brother’s life was enough to diffuse a bad situation. 

“A girl?? Who?”

“Just some girl. You don’t know her and never will,” Ran grumbled.

“Is she…?” she gestured at him, at herself. He didn’t respond and she changed the wording of her question. “How did you meet?”

“She’s not involved in what we do ma. If that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Good.” She let out an exhale in relief. “And you make sure to leave her out of it.”

“What?”

She pointed her finger at him. “Don’t pursue this girl because you’re selfish and want to bring her in potential danger. Keep her around, fuck her or whatever it is you do in your spare time that you wanna keep a secret from me, but if you pursue her romantically then you’re a selfish piece of shit.”

Ran stiffened, his glare hardening in her direction. “Keep out of my goddamn business.”

“You know I’m right, Ran. That’s why you’re mad. Isn’t that right, Rindou?” She looked at her youngest son who looked tentatively between them both, staying stubbornly silent. She clicked her tongue and turned back to Ran. “You’d rather put this girl in danger because you can’t stand being alone by yourself. You’ve got issues, Ran. That’s why you haven’t had a relationship longer than 3 months. Correct?”

Ran stared down at the table, silent. 

“Do you care about her?” she asked and Rindou had no idea if he pictured it or not but it looked like she softened for a moment.

Ran didn’t respond, but nodded in slight movements. 

“If you truly care about this girl, you’ll leave her alone. It’s for her own good. Bringing her into your lifestyle is just selfish.”

“Times up,” The officer from the back of the room said, walking towards the table with handcuffs. 

She stood up and placed her hands behind her back. “Do the right thing, Ran.”

“How do you know that’s true though?” he asked.

“Speaking from experience. Look at me, suffering from the actions of your father. He brought me into this lifestyle, and I wasn’t prepared for it. So now I’m facing the consequences. You’re just like your father, Ran. An emotionally distant, sadistic, messed up man. Embrace it or don’t. Try to change or don’t. Either way I don’t care. Just don’t ruin others because of that nature.”

The officer tightened her handcuffs and locked them. “Let’s go,” he said, before escorting her out of the room.

Rindou looked at his brother with sympathy. “You okay?” His hand rose to rest of his shoulder but Ran stood up before he could make contact.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned around. “Let’s go.”

~*~

You weren’t sure what was going on with Ran but he seemed emotionally distant. He was no longer affectionate towards you when you both hung out, his response time was a lot slower than it used to be. When you had sex, he was totally fine though, which weirded you out because he would randomly do a complete 180 out of nowhere with the affection. 

“That was amazing,” you said panting as you collapsed back on the bed. Ran hummed in agreement, gathering you in his chest as you cuddled. You buried your face in his neck, the scent of his cologne heavy in your nose.

“I know,” he sighed, looking down and kissing your forehead. You smiled harder, fighting back the urge to giggle and use his warm body as a blanket.

You were playing with the tip of his braid, occasionally twirling it around the tip of your index finger when you decided now was the time to approach the topic that’d been brewing inside you the last few months.

“So…” you traced your fingernail across the spiral tattoo on his chest.

He looked down at you, a lazy smirk on his face. “So?” He kissed your forehead again.

You bit down on your lip and forced yourself to look into Ran’s eyes. “This might sound cliche, or cheesy or whatever but…”

“Doubt it,” he snorted, taking your hand off his chest and linking his fingers with yours, clutching your hand tightly. When you looked stumped for words, he nudged his shoulder, softly jostling you in the process. “What’s up?”

“Well…” God, this was harder than you thought it would be. 

You chewed the skin of your lips as you tried to calm your nerves before you exploded with anxiety. You nearly froze when he placed his thumb against your lip, tugging it free from its brawl with your teeth. 

Fuck it. “I just wanted to know…what are we…?”

It didn’t help your already racing nerves when he froze beneath you, and you swore you could feel the blood in his body stop flowing at that moment. 

He sat up abruptly, sending you sliding off his chest. You blinked uselessly at the muscled plane of his back, grabbing the sheets and clutching it towards your chest, your body deprived of the warmth his body provided earlier now making your limbs go cold.

He scratched his hair and sighed exhaustedly. “I gotta be honest with you.”

You barely found your voice as you softly said, “Go on.”

“I don’t want a relationship right now.”

“Oh.” You quietly cleared your throat, sitting upright and shifting backwards on your mattress until your back hit the headboard. “With me…or?”

“Anyone.”

“So…what was the point of this then?”

“I dunno? I mean I just thought you liked…” he gestured at the both of you, hoping you’d see where he was coming from. When you didn’t and just stared at him confused, he got more frustrated. “You know, this? What were we doing? I didn’t know you—” He sighed again and groaned. 

You felt like your throat was stuffed with cotton with how hard it was to breathe. “But I thought you liked me?”

“I do like you.”

“So then what’s the hold up?”

“Just because I like you doesn’t mean I have to be with you, okay? I’m busy all the fucking time and you’ll just be getting in the way of that,” he said curtly, not bothering to hide the clear frustration in his voice.

Hurt prickled across your skin, your ears felt full as you toned out everything he was saying. He turned to face you, those eyes of his that normally made you flush from head to toe now felt so cold and distant, like you didn’t know who the man in front of you was. 

“Just get out, Ran.” You choked back tears as they threatened to fall from your eyes, but you quickly looked away before they could. He’d seen you vulnerable beneath him many times, but this time was different. You couldn’t—no, you won’t allow him the satisfaction of seeing he made you this upset.

“No wait.��� He reached out for you, his heart shattering when you pushed him away, sulking. 

He had a weird feeling in his chest, one that he wasn’t used to feeling, and instead of combating his emotions like a regular person, he discarded them  to the side, pretending they didn’t exist. He sighed exasperatedly and slid off your bed.

You moved to lay down, covering your entire body with your bedsheets as you heard him pack up his things. He silently changed and gently closed the door when he left. Once you heard your front door close, you sat up and wiped your tears, grabbing your phone from your dresser. 

The next few hours were spent watching youtube videos, laughing softly at the comments people left. It made you feel less useless about yourself and tried to desperately take your mind off what just happened prior. Honestly, you blame yourself for even bringing it up. It wasn’t worth ruining a two year friendship over.

Sure, it’s normal to catch feelings for a guy that treats you nice, isn’t selfish in bed and actually takes his time to account for your needs. That doesn’t mean you’re romantically interested in him though, right? Guaranteed it could’ve been any other of your friends, like Sanzu or even Mikey and you would’ve developed those same feelings, right? 

Before you had any time to digest that topic deeper, a text message notification popped up on your screen.

Ran: ok so that was awkward before. Can we talk this over properly?? I dont want to ruin what we had honestly. It…was a mistake to start sleeping together i know. We both had different intentions and i apologise if I sent you mixed feelings. Your friendship is something I value a lot and I don’t wanna lose that. So can we start over??? Just be friends this time? 

You: sure i guess. Sorry if i made things uncomfortable earlier.

Ran: ur good. Ill see you later then?

You: yeah okay

You and Ran had fought many times over the course of your friendship, and each time you both were able to move on like nothing happened. But this time, it just felt different. You felt it.

~*~

“You know it’s 3 in the morning right?” Sanzu rubbed his eyes, yawning obnoxiously. “I mentally check out from 2-10am.” 

“Shut up.” You dig around in his pocket and pull out a box of cigarettes. “Give me a lighter.”

“Since when do you smoke?” he asked, then tacked on, “Oh and I don’t have one.”

“Then why do you have a box of cigarettes then?!” 

Sanzu blinked at your sudden outburst. “Okay first. Calm down. Inside voices, we’re outside right now.” You fought the urge to point out how contradictory it was to use your inside voice outside but let it slide. “Secondly, why are you acting so…”

“So what?” 

“You know…” he looked carefully at you, trying to gauge your reaction if he were to say the words he truly wanted to say.

“If you’re about to say bitchy save it.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Then what were you going to say?” you raised your brow, waiting. He slowly closed his mouth and looked down at the floor in defeat. “Exactly,” you said triumphantly, then exhaled softly and looked around the street for any convenience stores that sell lighters.

“So can I ask why you suddenly want to smoke?”

“I’m stressed out okay?” You began walking towards the 24 hour convenience store across the street, Sanzu following behind you. “I sort of, maybe not, confessed to Ran earlier and he wanted to stay friends. So now I don’t think I can handle being in the same room as him without wanting to die.”

Sanzu yawned again, scratching his eye. “That sucks. I dunno what that has to do with me though.”

“I need company! I feel like I’m going to explode if I’m alone with myself tonight.”

 The bell chimed when you both entered the store, instantly heading over to the counter to buy the lighter. The cashier went to the back to grab the lighter.

“All I’m hearing is that you missed me,” Sanzu teased, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He was expecting you to push him off like you normally do. He definitely was not expecting you to chuckle, hug him back and mildly not in agreement. 

He backed away dramatically, narrowly avoiding stumbling into a display shelf and tapped your shoulder to get your attention. When you turned around, he kept staring gingerly at your face, causing you to raise your eyebrow.

“What?”

“Who are you and what did you do to my friend?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, pushing him away from you. The cashier handed you the lighter and you paid him, leaving the store with Sanzu behind you. Grabbing the box of cigarettes, you lit one up and exhaled for the nth time tonight.

“Do you think it’s normal for a guy to just be friends with a girl they used to have a thing with? Or if it’s normal for them to be friends with girls they know like them?”

Sanzu shrugged. “Are you asking the opinion of all men or just Ran? Because nobody knows what that guy is thinking when it comes to women. He’s way too comfortable around girls so probably? I mean, it’ll be in the back of his mind, sure, but as long as you’re not awkward around him it’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Guess we’ll have to see.” He pulled the cigarette from your mouth and dropped it on the floor, stubbing it out with his foot. At your shocked face, he held his hand out. “I don’t want you taking on bad habits because you’re having an emotional meltdown.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not having an emotional meltdown.”

“Sure…” He yawned for the fifth time tonight. “If I stay out any longer I’m going to pass out on the street. I’ll see you later, okay?” He pat you on the head, deliberately ignoring your complaint of “don’t fuck up my hair” and made his way home.

~*~

In the time you spent avoiding anything Ran related, that also meant avoiding people and situations that he was guaranteed to be there. It meant you stop hanging out with your mutual friends in groups, stopped going to parties you knew he was hosting. Was it bad your other friendships had to be jeprodized because you were too scared to confront your newfound, fresh start with Ran? Yeah, it wasn’t your proudest moment either. But it also meant you were spending a lot more time with Sanzu and Mikey. Out of everyone in his gang, they were the least close, only talking to each other with work related issues. Sanzu and Ran had this unspoken hatred with each other, that made the two of them avoid each other at all costs, not wanting to start another argument or fight.

That was great news for you because it would mean no impromptu visits, like the incident at Hanma’s house, or no unexpected calls from Ran like when you were hanging out with Kakucho, or no fear that Ran would be upstairs in his room when you were hanging out with Rindou. 

Hanging out with Sanzu more often also meant getting closer with Senju. She’s two years younger than you and you treated her like a little sister. It was her birthday next weekend and Takeomi was in charge of the planning the surprise birthday party, which meant nobody had a single clue who was coming.

If that were the case, you wouldn’t have shown up that day. 

“Ran. Are you going to Senju’s party?” Takeomi asked, exhaling cigarette smoke over the phone.

“Do I have to? I don’t know that girl.”

“I don’t care what you do. Just tell me so I can start planning her shit.”

“Depends honestly. Who’s going?”

Takeomi started listing off the names which included some of Senju’s college friends that Ran didn’t care about, some of their mutual friends like Sanzu (duh), Mikey, Kakucho, you, Rindou—wait, hold up.

“Wait, (y/n)’s going?” Ran cut Takeomi off mid sentence.

Takeomi grunted. “Yes.”

“Fine. I’ll go.” He hung up before Takeomi could say anything. Honestly Ran couldn’t care less about Senju, his only motivation was the thought of seeing you.

The fact he sent you that message, hoping it’ll mend whatever dent was placed in your friendship, only to get slapped in the face when you spent the last four months avoiding him pissed him off to no extent. He wasn’t blocked, he knew you wouldn’t do that to him, but he didn’t have the courage to check either. Maybe this party would be the perfect time to talk to you, to catch up and mend until he could selfishly hold you in his arms again. 

He didn’t spend the whole four months pining over you, the group of girls in his bed would confirm that, but there was an unknown feeling in his chest, something always wriggling at the back of his mind that he knew distantly was caused by you. It was getting annoying, having his shitty mother’s words ringing in the back of his mind every time he thought about making up with you. It took him about three months to realise that he actually loved you, whether that was a fact he wanted to accept or not. That feeling he was deliberately avoiding, was his conscious telling him to stop self sabotaging himself and just tell you how he feels.

He can’t wait to see you next Saturday.

~*~

When Ran says he knew nothing about your life in the last four months it wasn't an exaggeration. He genuinely had no idea who you were with, what you were doing, where and when. So you could only imagine his shock when he sees you’ve somehow become best buddies with Manjiro and fucking Sanzu, the idiot currently sitting between your legs on the floor as you braided his hair. 

You looked so pretty tonight, dressed up semi formal. Your hair and makeup was done in a way that Ran had never seen you in before. Senju sat beside you, talking loudly and making you laugh. Sanzu scrolled on his phone, waiting for you to finish his hair. Mikey sat next to you, his head resting on your shoulder as he looked like he was on the verge of sleep.

If you noticed him come in tonight, you sure hid it well, not even bothering to acknowledge his existence. He was planning on talking to you after Senju blew out her candles, that was until he saw what he did. 

After a load of drinks, everybody was pretty tipsy, including you and Manjiro as you both made out in the patio, his hands caressing your thighs as you sat sideways on his lap. The patio was filled with Senju’s friends in the pool, the smell of barbecue (requested by Senju) filling the air as people hovered around the grill, desperate for some savoury meat. It was hard to see you and Manjiro at first, but he did, as if his eyes were automatically drawn to you no matter where in the room.

Granted he had no right to feel the way he did, he knows that, and his words from that night constantly play on loop in his mind. He told you he wanted to be just friends and you agreed to that, and friends don’t get mad at friends for having relationships. But his boss of all fucking people? He wouldn’t give this much of a fuck if it was Shion or something.

“Drink up bitch!” Sanzu shoved a cup into Ran’s hand, resting his arm on the taller boy’s shoulder as he watched Ran grimace at the beverage.

“The fuck is this supposed to be?” 

“Dunno honestly. Just mixed a bunch of shit together.” Sanzu clinked his cup with his. “You’ll probably wake up tomorrow with memory loss and severe liver damage, but bon appetit.”

“I’m not drinking your mystery drink.”

“Boo. No fun.” Sanzu pouted, taking a big gulp of his drink.

“Why are you even talking to me?”

“Because you look like you’re about to kill somebody and as much as I relate to that feeling, I don’t want any drama on Senju’s birthday. She’ll never shut the fuck up about it. So drink up and enjoy the party dude.” He lifted the cup to Ran’s lips which stayed stubbornly closed until he gave in, making a face as it burned down his throat.

“See! It’s not so bad!” Sanzu slapped his back before walking away, ready to hand out samples of his new drink to random people. 

Fifteen minutes later and whatever Sanzu poured in that drink did wonders, Ran couldn’t help but admit. He got over his sour funk sooner than he’d thought. The liquor running through his veins made him socialise a hundred times better and managed to snag five pretty girls’ numbers tonight. He was currently leaning against the wall, hovering beside this girl he couldn’t remember the name of for the life of him (it wasn’t his fault, he blames it on Sanzu), as she tilted up to whisper provocative things in his ear. She looked like she’d be good in bed, and that was all Ran was thinking about when he saw your hair bounce past him.

Ran looked just in time to see you disappear through a doorway, and he abruptly pulled himself away from the girl before him. “I’ll be back in a sec. Just…do whatever,” he said, not even looking at her as he walked away. 

When he rounded the corner, his stomach did backflips as he saw you yell something to some people inside a room down the hallway before turning around. You almost recoiled when you saw Ran and mentally cursed the fact there was no objects, or people you could hide behind.

You pressed your lips into a wry smile and tried to walk past him before he grabbed your arm, stopping you. “What, so you’re not talking to me at all now?”

“Okay, calm down. It’s been like four months.”

“Which is a long time?” His phone lit up in his hand, a text message of a girl asking where he is with a string of sad faces emojis, and to add fuel to the fire, a tongue and water splash emoji. Ran clicked his tongue and made a mental note to block her when he’s done with this. 

You scoffed. “Sorry I hadn’t been able to entertain you these last four months, Ran. I just assumed girls 1 though 56 had it handled for me.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean,” he said curtly, shoving his phone back in his pocket.

You looked up at him, mouth in a thin line as you hissed, “Exactly how it sounds. Now I have somewhere to be.” You tried to skirt past him but he blocked your way out. He suddenly felt too big, too close, and your simmering temper was beginning to surface. “Ran seriously move.” You tried pushing his chest, but it didn’t work.

“Why? So you can go back to sucking face with Mikey?” Shut up…please, just shut up, sober Ran was yelling inside his head, but the words just came out before he could stop them. Note to self, never drink anything from Sanzu ever again. 

“Sucking face? Why are you…why do you even care?! You’re the one that said “I don’t want a relationship right now” so you don’t get a right to act all possessive over me and shit. Just because you’re too emotionally stunted to maintain a goddamn relationship, doesn’t mean everybody else is like that.” Your chest burnt with anger at his fucking audacity. Seriously, who does he think he is?

“What, so you want a relationship with Mikey, that it? Someone’s who is even more emotionally stunted than everybody in this fucking party combined?”

“And if I do? Is that your business? Whatever my decision is, it’s not up to you. Now get out of my way.” You leaned in close to his face as you glared up at him. His anger gave way into something more heated that made him lick his lips, wondering how you’d react if he were to kiss you right now.  You were about to attempt to walk away when Kakucho stumbled out of one of the rooms in the hallway, slightly tipsy.

“What’s going on? Why are you yelling?”

“Kakucho. Get your boy and tell him to leave me the fuck alone.” You pointed at Ran who snapped out of his stupor.

“Ran, let her leave.”

“Not till I get my answers.”

You pinched your temples, not even bothering to lower your voice as you yelled in sheer frustration, “What answers Ran?! I don’t owe you shit!”

“What’s going on?” Mikey stumbled out of the room you were exiting earlier and his arm instantly found itself on your waist. You were still seething, your heavy breathing only calming down once Mikey’s hand curled a little more around you, pulling you flush against his side.

“Nothing. Let’s go,” you said softly to Mikey, letting him lead you back to the room.

Ran’s anger returned tenfold upon seeing your hand hold Mikey back. “Since when are you two such good friends?”

“That’s none of your damn business,” you yelled back from the end of the hallway, your grip around Mikey tightening significantly.

“Don’t tell me you’re fucking him now? What is he your new boy toy? You’re that desperate?” 

Kakucho slapped a hand on his forehead, regretting not pulling Ran away before he had the chance.

You froze at the door, turning to look at him. In the years of your friendship with Ran, he’d seen you get angry many times, yelling at characters in movies when they do something stupid, yelling at him over the mic when you were playing video games. And in every one of those instances, he was never on the receiving end of your anger. The look you gave him, if it could, would’ve turned him to stone with how irate you looked right now. Dimly, he knew what he was doing was wrong, and if he was sober enough he would've definitely stopped himself from saying those things, but he was hurt, and angry, and those two combinations had him feeling like he had a right to make you feel the same way.

“I’m sorry, what?” You stepped out of Mikey’s grip. “Oh this is fucking rich. The irony right now, holy shit!” You began laughing. “If what I’m doing is considered “desperate” to you, then what does that make you? Pathetic? Huh? Needing fifty girls attention on you every second of every fucking day doesn’t seem desperate to you?”

Your loud laughter began to draw people in the party towards the hallway, interested in the loud argument going on. Kakucho grabbed Ran’s arm, shaking his head as if he could read his thoughts. “Don’t respond. Let’s just go.”

Ran shoved his hand off him, sending Kakucho back against the wall. “Nah I’m gonna respond.” He turned back to you, uncaring of all the eyes watching the scene take place. “You stay bringing up these girls in every single conversation I have with you and shame them like you weren’t proud to be one of them months ago.”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “So that’s all I was? A number to you? Enlighten me Ran, what number was I? 34? 52?”

“What fucking difference does it make if you know.”

“It makes no difference. I just want to hear you say it.” You closed the distance between you both and poked a finger into his chest. “I wanna hear you say that you enjoy ruining girls lives by making them fall for you with your shitty words and affection, then running away the second things get serious because you’re a coward afraid of stability.”

He pretended your words didn’t cut as deep as they did, pretended your words didn’t take him back to his mother’s birthday all those months ago, sitting at that table and listening to her spew hot garbage in his face about his personality and issues that he refused to acknowledge.

“That wasn’t the case with you. I didn’t tell you to fall for me.”

“That wasn’t the case? So I’m somehow different? How so?”

“Because—” Even in his drunken mind, he knew telling you he loved you now would only pull you further away than you already were. He pressed his lips in a thin line, and looked away from your oppressive stare. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Because your reasoning doesn’t exist, Ran. Stop searching for nothing. You’re a shitty person and you need to acknowledge that.” You pulled your finger away from his chest and turned around, lowering your voice to almost a whisper. “Now just stay out of my life.” 

He didn’t say anything and only watched you approach Mikey again, the man not even bothering to look at Ran the entire time as he took you inside the room, closing it shut. Ran’s ears were burning and his chest clenched as he realised the gravity of what he’d just done. So much for making amends. 

You went home and instantly blocked his number and cried yourself to sleep that night, regretting even messing with him to begin with.

~*~

“Are you sure this is safe?” you asked, looking around the strange alleyway surrounding you. 

“Don’t be a fucking wuss! Besides, I can fight remember? Nobody’s touching me tonight.”

“Yeah but…underground clubs are scary.”

“I know but that’s what makes this so exciting! Come on, let’s go!” She held your hand firm and tightly in her hand, giving you a reassurance squeeze that did nothing to help calm your raging nerves. 

“Imagine your brother finds you here tonight,” you laughed.

“Oh fuck. Takeomi would probably lock me in a house with no contact to the outside world for years,” Senju responded, shivering at the thought. She led you down the stairs and opened the janky door, leading you inside the club.

The rest of the night proceeded as follows, Senju getting drunk out of her mind; she nearly passed out on the floor from dancing too much, and you guarded the drinks, making sure nobody gets roofied tonight. This club was known for being shady, with drug transactions being held in the bathrooms of this place, and not just regular drugs, hardcore drugs. You had to use the bathroom and decided holding your pee in was much better than relieving yourself in a bathroom that had a woman passed out on the floor after taking too much drugs.

It was scary, and you had your guard up every second, and only felt relieved when you were carrying Senju outside, back through the alleyway to call for a taxi home. “It was soooooo much fun today. I loved it,” she slurred as you picked her up, struggling to hold her upright. 

“Yeah yeah I know. You told me this fifty times already,” you laughed lightly. “Come on, help me a little bit. I can’t carry you all the way, you’re too heavy!”

“I can’t feel my legs~”

“Oh for fucks sake.” You set her agaisnt the wall and caught your breath. You pulled out your phone and decided you had no other choice. You were calling her brother. 

“Who are you calling?” she asked after hearing the phone ring.

“Your brother.”

All traces of alcohol left her body as she practically screamed, “YOU’RE CALLING MY BROTHER?!”

“Relax! It’s Sanzu, not Takeomi. I considered Sanzu would be more understanding about this. It’s not like he and Omi are on speaking terms anymore.”

“Yeah but…”

“It’ll be okay, I promise,” you reassured her, patting her head.

“Hullloooo?” Sanzu’s voice rang through the speakers and you instantly perked up. 

“Sanzu! Hey! We kinda need your help right now.”

“‘M sorta busy right now. Is it urgent?”

“Senju’s kind of passed out right now and I need help taking her home. I can’t do it myself.”

“Senju’s WHAT?!” Takeomi’s voice boomed through the phone; Senju shivered in fear. 

“Sanzu! Why’d you put me on speaker phone you idiot!”

“So I can hear you better! Nothing’s wrong with that!”

You groaned and slapped a hand over your face, whispering sorry to Senju who looked like she was already planning her funeral. 

“Where are you guys right now?” Takeomi asked, sounding positively furious.

You gulped, Senju rapidly shaking her head no no no no. “We’re at this club…” you admitted, giving him the address.

“Wait, that club?” Sanzu perked up. “That place is like known for hardcore ass shit bro. Don’t tell me Senju took anything from there?”

“...she did.”

“Ah shit. Yeah, okay. Coming. It’s really close from here Takeomi. Don’t worry, lets’ go.” He turned his attention back to his phone. “You two. Stay right there—”

“You girls look pretty lonely by yourself.” The three of you froze as a deep voice spoke from behind you. You felt time pass in slow motion as you turned around to look at a guy waiting by the club’s backdoor. 

“We’re not lonely,” you said slowly. “Thanks for your concern though.”

Senju stood up on shaky legs and clutched onto your arms when she felt his stare on her body. “Yeah, we’re fine.”

“Who is that?” Sanzu asked from the phone.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back, clutching the phone tightly.

“Seriously don’t move. We’re heading out right now. All of us, okay?”

“Okay okay.” You had no clue who “all of us” meant, but you didn’t care, not when the guy slowly stepped away from the wall and began walking towards you both. You missed Sanzu calling for Ran to come in the car with them, your attention solely focused on this strange man in front of you.

“How old are you girls?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the shameless way he was gazing you both up and down.

“It’s none of your business,” Senju spat, slowly stepping back when he began walking forward. 

“It’s rude to not answer a question.”

“It’s even ruder to ask personal questions to strangers!”

“Senju, stop. You’re provoking him.” You squeezed her arm roughly, digging your nails into her arm.

“I don’t care! I hate men like him that think they’re entitled to us!”

“Men like me, huh? Go on, babe. Enlighten me on men like me.” 

“Senju just ignore him,” you whispered, panic filling you when you looked down at  your phone to see Sanzu had already hung up. “Sorry but we really have to get going,” you said to the man, bowing slightly before grabbing Senju’s hand and beginning to walk away from him.

You could hear his footsteps behind you and began walking faster until the point where you were running away towards the end of the alley. The end of the alley seemed so far away with how small your vision was as you panicked hearing him begin to run after you. Senju was a faster runner than you and grabbed your hand tightly, leading the way as you both bolted as fast as you could. 

“Stop running girls! I just wanna touch you!” he screamed out, laughing obnoxiously. He was clearly high on something.

Senju bumped into the chest of Takeomi at the end of the alley, and the man came to stop upon seeing Sanzu exit the car, a manic smile on his face.

“You wanna touch my sister huh?” Takeomi gritted out.

“Wow, uh I didn’t mean for—I didn’t know she was—” 

Sanzu walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think we should have a little chat, huh? Come with me.” He had this strangely friendly smile on his face that sent shivers down your spine. 

Your heart was beating out of your chest and you barely heard Takeomi telling you both to get in the car. He and Sanzu stayed behind and taught the man a lesson, and Senju slipped in the back, taking up all three seat as she laid down, exhausted.

You had no choice to sit in the front seat. The windows were tinted so you didn’t see Ran until you opened the door. You blinked uselessly at him, fingers tightening against the handle. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving your stupid ass, that’s what. Now get in.”

You swallowed whatever retort you had because he wasn’t lying, and as much as you shouldn’t a part of you felt relieved to see a familiar face after that incident. You slipped in the front seat and slammed the door behind you, putting your seatbelt on and looking straight ahead.

Ran got the order from Takeomi to take Senju home first and so he began driving towards the Akashi household. Senju was dead to the world in the backseat, drooling partially on the seat as the fatigue from running finally hit.The two of you sat in silence the entire ride, and Ran exited the car to put Senju inside once they arrived. He locked the door behind him and re-entered the car to see you facing the opposite way, staring out the window.

No other words were said as he dropped you back at your house, and you were surprised you both said nothing to each other the entire time. After sitting in silence outside your house for a while, Ran finally broke the silence.

“Are you fucking stupid?” Ran scolded. “What made you think coming to an underground club was a good fucking idea?”

“Oh sorry, I was just playing the role of the dumb desperate slut that can’t keep her legs closed. Sorry if I gave you a fright.”

“Listen to me,” he said sharply, making you snap your mouth shut. “You could’ve died tonight if we weren’t here tonight you know that? That place you went to, that’s not for girls like you. Not for girls like Senju either. I don’t know what fucking possessed you to be acting this fucking recklessly, but I just hope you know what you experienced tonight was a wake up call. You aren’t built for this goddamn lifestyle, so stop trying to act like you are.”

“...you’re right. I’m sorry, Ran.” You looked down at your lap when the tears started to drop from your eyes. “Tonight was so scary, I genuinely don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.”

Ran sighed and you kept sniffling as you heard his door open before slamming shut. You watched him round the car and open it on your end. “W-what are you—”

He carried you out of the car, your legs wrapping around his waist as he kicked the door closed behind him, walking up to your front door. He set you down on the ground and held his hand out. “Keys.”

You swallowed and reached inside your purse, pulling them out and into his hand. He unlocked your front door and once again carried you inside, locking the door behind you. He led you upstairs to your bedroom and set you down on your bed. 

You watched in confusion as he walked over to your chest of drawers and began searching for your pyjamas. Once in hand, he tossed them next to you on the bed, and then walked into your ensuite bathroom. You heard him turn the shower on.

“Get changed and come in here,” he said from the bathroom.

You stripped out from your dress and entered the bathroom, not even bothering to cover yourself in his presence, nothing he hasn’t seen before anyway. He was in the midst of taking his shirt off when you stepped into the shower, the warm water running down your body as you waited for him to join you.

You stared at your feet when he grabbed your soap, placing some on his hand before lavashing your body with soap, rubbing them along your arms and sides. 

“What are you doing Ran?” you finally asked as he bent down to wash your legs.

“What I should’ve done months ago.” His tone left no space for a remark from you, so you stayed silent and let him do what he had to you. Once you were washed clean, he turned the shower off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapped it around your body. “Go and get changed.”

“You need a towel too. I’ll go get one.” You quickly towelled yourself dry before stepping out, returning with an unused towel from your storage. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

You entered your bedroom and got changed into the clothes he picked out for you, then handed him some clothes of his you kept when he used to sleep over all those months ago. You sat on the bed and listened to him change. 

“Are you going to sleep over?” you asked, looking up at him.

“You want me to?”

You nodded slowly, getting into bed. He followed you, giving you some space as he laid down beside you. He had his back facing you, turned away from you and you frowned at the lack of attention.

“...Ran?” you tested, seeing if he was asleep or not.

“What?”

“Why don’t you want me?” you whispered, remembering the last time you were in your bed together. 

“Because I don’t deserve you,” he responded, voice flat and devoid of any emotion.

“Huh?” you asked, confused.

He turned around and looked at you, your eyes glossy with fresh tears. “I uh. I spoke to my mom a few months ago.” Your eyes widened, knowing the estranged relationship he has with her. Why didn’t he tell you this?

“I spoke to her and she uh, gave me a fucking reality check.”

“What did she say?” You shifted closer, close enough that you could see and finally notice the eyebags under his eyes, like he hasn’t had a good night sleep in time, which was strange for Ran as he savours sleep more than anything else in the world.

“A lot,” he sighed exhaustedly, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “Said I was a lot like my old man. That was I was emotionally stunted, sadistic, and a downright shitty person.” His chuckle was so emotionless, you almost reached out and hugged him, but stayed still as he wasn’t finished talking. “Worst thing was she’s right. I can’t savour relationships for my fucking life and when I actually felt something for the first damn time, I fucked things up and ruined it. Nobody else did that. I did. I’m responsible for that shit. I don’t wanna bring you down and you deserve better than me, whether you wanna admit that shit or not.”

He took a moment and you were unsure if you should respond or not. When you were about to, he continued. 

“She told me I’d ruin your life if I pursed you. Told me I was being fucking selfish. Can you believe that shit? And you know what, I fucking believed her. I thought I would do that, that’s why I pushed you away. I wanted you all to myself which is why I continued sleeping with you, which was wrong of me I know, but you seemed happy which is why I didn’t think much of it. Then you had to go fuck with my goddamn head and tell me you wanted me too.”

“...sorry,” you whispered, feeling the breath sweep out from your lungs.

“It’s not your fault, dummy. It’s mine. I—In that moment I should’ve been selfish. I know I should’ve, and every fucking day I regret not doing that shit. But as usual I fucked things up again, then you were gone. I thought we could still be friends so I could at least see you again, but nope. You distanced yourself from me.”

Another tear fell from your eyes, wetting your pillow the longer you heard him talk. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising. You did the right thing. Keeping you as a friend would’ve been selfish of me. You clearly distanced yourself because you wanted to get over me, but I wanted you all for myself and wanted you in my life at all times, even if that wasn’t what you wanted. Once again, proving my ma right. I’m fucking selfish. Then that stupid party happened and just seeing you with Manjiro made me want to lose my shit. The fact that I wasn’t able to have you because as a guy living this type of lifestyle, it would be considered selfish. But yet Mikey was? How come he was allowed to be selfish and I wasn’t?”

“It’s not selfish Ran,” you finally got a word in. “I didn’t even like Mikey like that. We were just drunk and horny. I never dated him. In fact, I hadn’t dated anyone since I was with you. Nobody else made me feel the way you made me feel and it was selfish of me to want you when you didn’t want me back at that time. We’re allowed to be selfish Ran. Don’t let that stop you from getting what you want.”

Ran’s eyes were wide as he listened to you talk. When you finished, he shook his head. “My level of selfish and yours aren’t the same. In my world, if you’re vulnerable it can get you killed, or put in a bad situation where you have to take a live, or have yours taken. You don’t need to be involved in that. That’s why I can’t be selfish.”

“But—”

“No. Buts. Go find a nice accountant to date or whatever. You don’t need me tying your life down.”

You frowned. “I don’t want an accountant though.”

“Why not? You always said you wanted to marry rich.”

You shifted closer, flush against his. “I never said it had to be good money though.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He looked down at you. “You’re fucking crazy,” he said with a light laugh, and you were happy you were able to break the ice.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulder, pulling him closer till your noses touched. “You love it though.” 

“Damn right I do.”

#—tr </3 #ran x reader #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokrev #tokrev x reader #haitani ran smut #ran smut #tokrev smut

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

My Favorite Pet Pt 2

BDSM Preformer!Fem!Reader! X subby! Wanda

Summary: You find yourself alone in bed, but that's okay because you can smell breakfast

Warnings: None! Here you all go have some fluffy morning after loving.

Word Count: 1,570

A/N: I promise pt 3 is going to be full of smut once more, but I wanted to explore their morning after.

You woke up to the smell of bacon stretching out on your king sized bed. Your back is popping after a week of staying on Kate and Yelena’s couch. You fell asleep on the couch, right? Did Wanda move both of you in here?

You got up feeling cold from only wearing a tank top and shorts to bed, grabbing one of your throw blankets and making your way out to the kitchen to find Wanda there, swaying her hips to music as she made breakfast. You smirked and watched her for a moment before speaking up,

“Damn I could get used to this.” you startle her a bit with your voice, but she sees you smiling. You saw the blush on her face as you walked over, wrapping your arms around her waist and looking up.

“I tried waking you up earlier, but you refused so I figured I'd start making breakfast for you Mommy.” Her voice was so soft right now. You were an absolute menace to try and wake in the morning.

“You don't have to call me that outside of the club or the bedroom. Please just call me by my name.” you lean up on your tiptoes to kiss her.

“Are you sure? All my previous-” You cut her off before she can finish that sentence.

“Wanda. I'm sure.” you tell her putting emphasis on her name. “Outside those spaces you're Wanda and I'm Y/N. We are two people and not just our roles.” She simply nods and you kiss her again.

“Okay well Y/N I've made breakfast I hope you like bacon, eggs, and pancakes.” Wanda smiled and so did you.

“I love those things. I'll grab the juices and milk.” You untangled yourself from her grabbing out the pitchers for the two of you.

As the two of you sat and ate you talked about a lot of things and got to know each other better. Conversation with her seemed to flow easily between the two of you. You had never felt this way before. You were typically a guarded person especially after her though opening up didn’t even feel like you were. Instead it felt more like getting reacquainted with an old friend.

“So you have this place because of working at the club right?” Wanda asked looking around my spacious penthouse.

“Yeah Tasha helped me get it originally since it was close to the club and honestly I came from nothing. My parents were poor when I was a kid, but it was by choice. Neither of my parents wanted to work and didn't care that my brother and I were starving. I took care of my brother and raised him. He lived with me for a bit and still comes by, but he went off and became a businessman. He's climbed the ladder to almost being the CEO of the company he works for.” You’re reminded of just how different you and your brother turned out.

“You must be proud of him.” you smile, pushing around the little food left on your plate.

“I am. Sometimes I wonder if he feels the same about me.” You admit solemnly.

“I'm sure he understands that without you doing this he wouldn't have been able to be where he is. You paid for his college right?”

“Yeah through the fucking teeth…” you definitely didn't want to mention fucking the dean to get him in or lowering his tuition rates.

“Then I'm sure he understands. My brother on the other hand is just as bad as me. He creates, designs, and builds BDSM gear like beds and crosses and shit. He's really good at it and runs his own business with a couple of his buddies.” Wanda told you.

“Hmmm I'd love to meet him. I have a spare room I've always wanted to turn into a playroom.” Wanda blushed a scarlet red. You wanted to keep teasing her, but your phone was going off,

“Ughhhhhhhhh!” you picked it up quickly changing your tone, “Hi Tasha. You’re interrupting my breakfast so please make it quick.”

“Wow rude and here I thought you had a good night.” she responded, but you could tell she was smiling.

“Oh I did so good in fact it has continued into breakfast so again if you could make it quick.” I snip at her really not wanting to do this until later.

“Of course it has. Finally back on the horse I see. Well that’s good, anyways since you’re both there I expect to see you tonight.” you rolled your eyes.

“Of course you do. Were people asking for us?” you put the call on speaker.

“Of course they were. You two gave the best performance last night. You’re lucky I’m nice and let you keep all those tips. Most places would take some from you especially with how much you made last night.” you chuckled at her words. As tough as Tasha could be on you she was also soft; she knew you too good at this point.

“Well thank you Tasha for taking such good care of us. When will we be preforming tonight?”

“Opener and then a solo from each of you later in the night once aftercare is done let me know and we’ll work you in.” You could hear the sound of her typing in the background probably trying to figure out the schedule of performers for tonight.

“Okay Tasha. We’ll be there for 5.”

“Okay once your solos are done you’re free to go tonight because Friday I want you two to do multiple shows.” You groan a bit doing multiple shows was always hard for you. It takes a lot out of you to go from Dom to not to Dom again.

“Fine...” You replied reluctantly to your best friend. You knew she heard your tone, but chose not to call you out on it.

“Okay I’ll see you two tonight and I’m glad you found someone again Y/N/N.” You rolled your eyes. Trying to take the phone off speaker before Wanda could hear it.

“Yup kay bye.” You hung up, throwing your phone over onto the couch.

“What’s wrong Y/N?” Wanda asked concerned.

“Nothing amor. I just get frustrated sometimes. It’s not that I don’t like this job because I do. It’s the only thing I’ve ever known it’s just difficult for me sometimes. I have to get into the right headspace. Also I’m not going to lie doing more than one show in a night can be exhausting and I want to make sure you have a good time. I’ve just never been good with multi show nights.” Wanda reached across the table, holding your hand,

“Everything is going to work out fine because this time you’ll have me.” She was smiling, biting her lip as her nose scrunched up.

“You are absolutely beautiful amor. I am so lucky...” You let your words trail off. All Wanda is, is my stage partner, nothing more, and you feel yourself curl into yourself ever so slightly as you retract your hand.

You see her searching your face as to why you pulled away, “Sorry did I do or say something wrong?” Wanda asked and you felt a pit in your stomach.

“No, no meu amor. I just get stuck in my own head. I’m sorry. I have a lot going on with myself and sometimes I’m my own worst enemy. If I ever start pulling away just pull me back harder please?” Wanda is speechless for a moment. “I-if you want to that is you don’t-“ Wanda pushes aside her plate and then your own, climbing on the dining room table and making her way into your lap.

“I’ll pull you so deep you’ll be drowning in me and forget all your problems.” Wanda husked against your lips, making you lean up, chasing her lips for a kiss as she keeps pulling back until you’re whining,

“Wands...” You were pouting and looking up at her, “Please?” She smirked and finally let you kiss her, melting against her as you sighed into it. You needed this, you needed her. You need her? How are you so deep already? How did she do this to you?

“Y/N/N?”

“Hmmm?” You let your eyes flit open and look up at her.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, never had a partner like you. Before last night I thought everything I’d experienced with a Dom was normal...I don’t think...no I know I don’t ever want to go back to that. I know it’s a little forward of me, but would you please continue to be my dom as well as a partner I can rely on?” You reached up and cupped her cheeks.

“If we’re being forward then I’d like to answer your question with a question. I would like to be those things and more so would you be my girlfriend?” You ask, feeling so nervous until she crashes her lips into yours, her hips rolling against you, moaning out at the feeling as you grab her hips.

“Yes. Yes I’d love that.” She husks out against your lips and this is a moment you want to remember forever, every part of it. The sound of her voice, the faint smell of breakfast, her vanilla perfume, the way her lips taste and feel against you, the pressure of her hips and your nails digging into them.

#ley speaks #ley writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff fluff

[yeonzzzn]

🪐drops of jupiter: taehyun

pairing: taehyun x afab!reader word count: 2.9k

synopsis: after yours and taehyun’s breakup, your group goes on tour which is exactly what you needed. a year long world tour to distract you from the pains your heart felt. but once your group comes back from the tour and is preparing for your next comeback, txt is also preparing a comeback of their own that involves your group. you and taehyun have no choice but rekindle a friendship for the sake of your members, fans, and each other.

genre: ex-lovers to lovers, idol!taehyun, idol!reader.

warnings: swearing, alcohol mentions, taehyun is so down bad for reader, make-out session, let me know if I missed anything!

♫“Now that she’s back in the atmosphere with drops of Jupiter in her hair…”♫

Taehyun stood there in shock, a towel wrapped around her neck, sweat dripping down his face, and boxing gloves in one hand, his water bottle in another. 

You slowly thinned your lips in a line, not expecting to see him again so soon after getting back from tour. 

And the thing was, Taehyun wasn't either. He knew you got back to Seoul a few days ago(thanks to his amazing stalking skills aka stealing Soobin’s phone and Instagram account to look at yours), but he wasn’t expecting you to be standing inside the elevator when the doors opened after he just finished his gym workout. 

All Taehyun could do was look at you and take notice of how uncomfortable you looked. It took everything in him to not burst into tears and rush over to you. 

You also wanted nothing more than to go to him, but after everything that happened with the two of you…you knew you couldn’t. 

“Taehyun!!!” your group members cheered. 

It took Taehyun a second to register his name being called by your group mates, he didn’t even realize they were in the elevator with you. 

The oldest member, and the leader, pulled Taehyun into the elevator, and the doors closed. 

“Perfect timing!” She cheered, “Soobin called us all for a meeting!” 

“Did he?” Tae said barely above a whisper, “I had no idea…” 

Your leader realized she spoiled the secret meeting, you also had no idea what was going on until you were dragged inside the HYBE building. 

And by the looks of it, Soobin kept it a secret from Taehyun too. 

You noticed how…sad he looked. Part of you hoped he’d be happy to see you, but you also understood that he probably would have been happy if the circumstances were different. 

It’s been over a year since you’ve seen him. 

Taehyun and you secretly dated, not from your companies or bandmates, but from the world. 

You and your group just freshly debuted and your first album was a major hit. So you all went out to celebrate at a club that the group Tomorrow X Together just happened to be at as well. 

And that’s how you met Taehyun. The two of you hit it off so smoothly, even made out in the back of the club. Granted, you both were drunk and out of it, but when you woke up that next morning with a text from him with his name saved as “Tyun💚” saying how he wanted to take you out on a date and properly kiss you…you were so down bad. 

He was everything you could have ever wanted. He opened doors for you, and always waited outside your company building or dorm building until you texted him saying you made it to where you needed to be safely before he left. Always made sure you were warm, giving you his jacket or wrapping you closely in his arms. Always making sure you ate and drank water and if you didn’t he would be practically breaking down your dorm or company's door down to give you food. He took care of you. 

You fell hard for him and loved everything about him. From the way he has his little shy habits, to the way he said your name and how you looked at you. Loved the way he’d lay you down on his bed and make love to you like you were the greatest thing that was put on this earth. 

But as fast as everything came together, it just as quickly crashed and burned. 

Rumors between the two of you started circulating, articles being popped out by every famous news site every single day. And it tore at your relationship. 

You were ready to go public. Ready to step into that light with him. 

But Taehyun…wasn’t. 

It was the first major disagreement the two of you had. You’ve had fights, sure, but it was never like this. 

To say Taehyun was scared would be an understatement. It was already bad enough that he had to be careful and watch every movement or word he said. The public eye was ruthless and the last thing he wanted was your name to get dragged in the mud. You were Taehyun’s first real relationship, he’s dated around sure, but it was nothing compared to you. 

You and Tae couldn’t get to an agreement which ultimately ended your relationship. 

“Guess you really don’t actually care or love me enough to go public, because if you did this would be such an easy decision to make but apparently it’s not. Goodbye, Taehyun.” 

It was the last thing you said to him as you stormed out of his dorm room, leaving him sitting on his bed watching as you walked out of his life. 

Taehyun regretted not chasing after you every single day since then. Regretting not listening to you and giving it a chance. 

He was so in love with you, and he wished he could have said that instead of watching you leave. 

Not even a week later your company announced that your group was going on a world tour and was hitting the airport a month later. 

You felt like you needed this, to get out and away from Seoul and from him. It was the perfect way to get space and to help you move on. 

But here you were, back in Seoul and here he was standing in front of you, and your heart still beats for him all the same. 

To say Taehyun was pissed would be silly, he was more than pissed. You could practically see the smoke blowing from his ears as he stormed up to Soobin, fists clenched and jaw locked. 

“Want to tell me why this was kept as a secret!?!”

Soobin just stood there, an awkward smile on his face as he glanced between his bandmate and your group, “Surprise?” 

Oh, Taehyun will show him a surprise later. Of his fist meeting Soobin’s perfect nose. 

It didn’t take long for the rest of the TXT members to appear, everyone giving their greetings and hugs. 

“It’s nice seeing you again,” Yeonjun said, pulling you into a tight hug, “How was your tour?” 

You hugged him back, “It was great, seeing the world is always fun.” 

Yeonjun smiled at you. You could tell he was genuinely happy to see you again after so long. 

Besides, both your groups got close during your time dating Taehyun. 

Once both groups settled down, your leader and Soobin announced why we were all gathered here today. 

A collaboration. 

And also apparently everyone knew about this collaboration…except you and Taehyun. Because of course, why not? 

The song would be a love song(because of course, it would be). It would be so upbeat and happy. The choreography would be of two lovers dancing together in perfect harmony. The promotions would be through TikTok with the challenge, along with posting them on Instagram and Twitter. It honestly was a great idea and really beautiful, whoever came up with this idea was a genius. 

But the problem was you and Taehyun. 

After the breakup and going no contact, the effect on the media was…well negative. Went just about as good as you’d thought. Mostly after both you and Taehyun “admitted” to the media that there was no relationship at all. 

You were both awkward, not looking at each other or even interacting at all during the whole meeting. 

This is exactly why Soobin didn’t tell Taehyun and your leader didn’t tell you. 

Once you and your group left, Taehyun was both in his fierce anger, “Why didn’t you tell me Bin?!?” 

Soobin shuddered under the use of his nickname being thrown out of the younger mouth the way it did. 

“Because I knew you would either have A: not shown up, or B: busted down the doors and made it even more awkward between the two of you.” 

Point…taken. Tae knew that if he did know about this collaboration, he would have done everything possible to make himself look presentable for you. 

Man was so down bad for you still and it showed by his actions throughout the following week. 

Anytime you needed water? Tae was jumping up to grab you a bottle. Hungry? He was rushing to grab you a snack. 

You sneezed? He was grabbing the tissue box. 

You had to admit, it was cute and you adored it, but it still felt so awkward and everyone else was noticing it too. You two barely spoke to each other at all but he was at your every waking call. 

Before you knew it two weeks had flown by and the song was officially recorded and completed. Now all that was felt was finishing up the choreography, filming the music video, and making the TikToks, which was the real challenge. 

Mostly because your groups decided to put the two of you together as the “lovers” of the music video and dance challenges in a way and hopes of getting the two of you to rekindle and make up. 

The group practices were awkward and nerve-racking. 

You didn’t understand why both leaders decided it was a good idea, why any of this was a good idea. 

You both had comebacks soon, shouldn’t each group just be focusing on that?

You arrived at the HYBE building early for practice, wanting to get a head start and prepare yourself for the next two hours. 

Today would be the day they finally have you and Tae work together on the dance. Before today it was just the two of you mirroring the choreographers, but today was the real deal. 

Unfortunately for you, Taehyun had the same idea. 

You walked into the practice room, already seeing him in the middle of the room doing stretches. 

His heart nearly dropped seeing you, “Oh, hi YN…” 

“Hello..” you softly whispered back, making your way into the room. 

He didn’t know what to say. Everything was so awkward, and he had no idea how to fix it. 

“I’ll just…” he pointed to the door, slowly starting to walk out. 

“You don’t have to leave,” you quickly said, “We have to practice together today anyways, might as well stay.” 

Tae just nodded, trying to think of anything to start a conversation with you. But failing anyway. 

“We don’t have to do this,” you finally said, sitting down on the floor to start your own stretches, “Let’s just get through this until the promotions are over.” 

Without understanding why, your words were all it took for him to cut his shyness away. 

“Is that really what you want?” 

 The way he said it was enough to send chills down your spine, he wasn’t stumbling over his words, showed no sign of being awkward, and it was so clearly cutthroat. 

You just shrugged, “It’s probably what you want.” 

Taehyun scoffed, “There you go again acting like you know what I want.” 

And now you were pissed. 

“Excuse me?” You snapped, jumping to your feet. 

“I said what I said, YN,” He said with a roll of his eyes, “You’ve been acting like you know what I want ever since our relationship went toxic.” 

“Oh, please then Kang Taehyun, tell me what it is you want since I seem to be unknowing.” 

He folded his arms over his chest, “I want us to drop whatever this is, and rekindle our once friendship, we are stuck with each other whether we like it or not.” 

You knew he was right, and it would benefit both groups to just… makeup. 

So you nodded, “Fine, we can do that.” 

Taehyun relaxed, but not because you agreed to rekindle, but because of the way your eyes glossed over, “Hey hey, why are you crying?” 

He walked closer to you, his hands hovering, not knowing if touching you was acceptable. You took a few steps away from him. 

“YN, please talk to m—“

“How can I just rekindle everything with you when my heart isn’t over everything? Isn’t over you. It must have been so easy for you.” 

Taehyun tilted his head in confusion, “What?” 

You wiped your eyes with your palms, “I stalked your socials pretty much every single night while I was gone on tour,” you admitted. If the two of you were going to rekindle, might as well unload everything, “I saw how happy you were, saw all the interactions, and you got over me so easily. Makes sense since you didn’t want to go public about our relationship.” 

Taehyun was stunned, how could you possibly think he was over you? He’s the biggest simp for you, has that not been obvious with how he did everything possible for you since you’ve been here? Did you think it was just something he was doing out of pure habit?

“You’re not over me?” was all Tae was able to say, those words repeating over and over in his head. 

You rolled your eyes, “Is that all you heard out of all that? Seriously Taehyun? I can’t believe—“ 

And you were cut off. Taehyun had his arms wrapped around you, lips crashing to yours. His body going on autopilot and pressing you up against the mirrored wall. 

Part of you wanted to fight him, the other part wanted to bring him closer. You chose to bring him closer, snaking your fingers into his hair. 

“I am nowhere close to being over you,” he whispered between kisses, his hands flying to either side of your head, trapping you against him and the mirror. 

You pulled away from the kiss, leaning your head against the mirror, wanting to see the look on his face when you asked him to repeat himself. 

“I said I am nowhere close to being over you, YN,” he pressed his forehead against yours, “I stalked your socials with Soobin’s accounts. I watched every single fancam that came out of you. Saved every cute selfie you posted and counted down the days until you landed back in Seoul.” 

You took a deep breath and it came out more shaky than you wanted, “Why? You didn’t want to go public with me.” 

“Because I was scared,” he took a deep breath as well, “I was a coward, I was stupid. I was scared of how the media would treat you after it was out. I am in love with you, YN, and not a day goes by that I don’t regret the decision I made.”

You kept eye contact with him the entire time he spoke. You knew him inside and out. You could see just how badly this breakup was killing him now that he had broken down those walls. 

“I kept praying, hoping that while you were out there amongst all the space of this big ole world that you’d miss me so bad and by some act of fate to bring you back to me.” 

Your hands reached up, cupping his face, “I did miss you. More than I can even admit.” 

“I am so sorry, YN, and I cannot ever forgive myself for letting you go so easily.” 

His eyes teared up, his heart rate paced faster and he felt like if he didn’t push away from you right now he would completely break down. 

“Then don’t let me go now.” 

He searched your eyes, “What?” 

“Don’t let me go,” you pressed your lips back to his, “please don’t let me go.” 

It’s all he needed to hear to press his body completely against yours, kissing you so hard and passionately as if these kisses would make up for the year you were away from him. 

He parted your lips with his tongue, letting the muscle explore your mouth, a small moan escaping. 

“God,” he whispered between a kiss, “I’ve missed your sweet sounds,” 

You giggled against his lips, “You can’t just say things like that.” 

“I can’t help it,” he placed his forehead back against yours, “You make me crazy.” 

Before you could reach up for his lips again, the practice room door opened, forcing Taehyun away from you and you to quickly rush away from the mirror. 

Huening Kai was the first in the room, him stopping to raise a brow at you two, barely seeing how you both rushed away from each other, “Did we interrupt something?” 

Taehyun hummed, “Hmm? Oh, nah! We just got here early.”

Soobin wasn’t buying it, mostly not after seeing Taehyun’s handprints on the mirror, “I am guessing the two of you made up?” 

You and Tae glanced at each other, small smiles filling your faces. 

“More like made out,” Beomgyu said, clearly grossed out, “Can’t even hide the obvious boner he has and how fucked his hair looks.” 

Taehyun slowly turned and faced the mirror, seeing the state his body was in, “I am going to kill you Beomgyu,” 

With the two of you making up, and ultimately deciding to give your relationship a second chance, the rest of the recording of the music video and the TikToks for the promotions went by smoothly. 

Once the song was released and all the videos dropped, you and Taehyun were the talk of the town. 

The public’s reaction was better than Tae hoped, it eased his mind and he was finally ready to go public with you. Ready to show you off to the world. To let everyone know that he, Kang Taehyun, cuffed you. 

And that he was never going to let you go again.

a/n: I am so sorry that this probably sucks...it was very rushed and I lost inspiration for it since this sat in my drafts for so long. I hope you all still enjoy it.

#tyun #kang taehyun #taehyun #taehyun x reader #reader x taehyun #myfivestars #txt #txt x reader #reader x txt #tomorrow x together #txt fanfiction #txt scenarios #txt fanfic #txt imagines #ex lovers #best friends #yeonzzzn writing

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Part Three

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Word count: 1482

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Part one Part two

Masterlist Here

You weren’t too sure what to expect when Ragnar said they would show you hospitality, but this was definitely something alright. You’d been given a dress that fit into the time period a bit better and made you stick out less than you had before. well, that was if you ignored the fact your hair was completely different from everyone else and everyone, but the Ragnarsson’s took at least three steps back whenever you approached.

When his brothers realised Ivar had been sneaking in to talk to you their protests began, “That’s not fair!”

“Why didn’t you tell us she could understand us?”

“Why did she talk to you and not us?”

You didn’t even feel the need to mention he’d bribed you with food. Ivar was good enough at arguing for himself. meanwhile as they bickered at the dinner table Bjorn sat at the other end staring at you the whole time. it defiantly wasn’t completely unsettling. Ragnar meanwhile was asking you a million questions you didn’t know how to answer.

“So how does a lighter work?”

“A spark happens when you press down and lights the gas,” you tried to explain while you ate your stew.

Ragnar nodded as he thought it over, “I think I understand. But what is a gas?”

“Uh…”  you said but Bjorn cut you off, effectively silencing everyone at the same time.

“How do we know you’re not a witch?” he said making Ivar roll his eyes and for once Ubbe and Ivar seemed to agree with something.

“If she was a witch surely, she would’ve escaped by now?” Ubbe sighed.

“Besides,” Hvitserk said, cheeks pink from his fourth glass of mead, “She’s far too pretty to be a witch,” he said, throwing a wink your way making your own cheeks heat up. The way Ivar glared at Hvitserk though put you on edge.

It was Sigurd turn to roll his eyes at his brother, “You’re a pig. And besides she hasn’t done anything. How do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?”

“If anyone is going to do that it will be Ivar,” Ubbe said so nonchalantly you felt your jaw drop.

Especially when Ivar chimed in, “This is true,”

You could see the growing annoyance on Bjorn’s face as his younger brothers had their petty fights, something you would soon have to get used to. Clearly Aslaug was used to it however as she sank more into her wine. You had to admit the wine at least was nice. “I don’t know how I can earn your trust Bjorn, but I swear on my life I didn’t come to hurt anyone,”

You half expected him to laugh or roll his eyes at you but instead he cocked his head to the side, “Who told you, my name?”

You watched as everyone paused what they were doing to turn to look at you. “How did you know any of our names?” Sigurd asked.

You debated lying, saying Ivar told you but you didn’t feel like that was a good hole to dig. Instead, you swallowed hard, “Well everyone knows your name. you’re Bjorn ironside. Son of Ragnar. The Ragnarssons are famous,” you tried to say it nonchalantly while being very aware each one of them had a knife or axe.

However, flattery seemed to work, “And me as well?” Ragnar asked, a spark behind his eyes, “After all I am Ragnar Lodbrok,” he said making his sons all roll their eyes.

“Well of course. there are legends about you. they write tv shows about your lives,”

They all seemed so proud of themselves, even Aslaug had a smile behind her cup. You felt satisfied with your excuse until Bjorn asked, “What is a tv show?”

“Uh…”

-

Later that night Ivar showed you to a room that looked far less like a prison than the one you’d been in before. “We’ve got your-whatever these are,” Ubbe said as he and Sigurd walked into the room with a bag each and Hvitserk came in behind them with a flagon of wine.

“They’re just bags,” you said as you took them and moved to sit on the makeshift bed they had.

Privacy clearly wasn’t a thing here as all four boys sat down and began passing the wine around, “What’s in that one?” Sigurd asked, pointing to your guitar case.

You opened it and pulled it out, “Is it some kind of lute?” Hvitserk asked but you could see Sigurd was the keenest.

“I guess?” you said, placing it on your lap and gently strumming the strings, “It’s called a guitar,”

“Play us something?” Ubbe asked before taking a swig out the wine.

You sighed as you looked at the strings and tried to think of a song before your fingers found the strings and you began to strum.

“I’m like the water when your ship rolled in that night,

Rough on the surface, but you cut through like a knife,” you began to sing Taylor swift softly as you played Willow. All four boys seemed mesmerised as you sang and even Ivar stayed quiet until the last night, “I’m begging for you to take my hand,

Wreck my plans, that’s my man,” you finished, placing your hand over the strings and looking up to finally meet their eyes.

“That was beautiful,” Sigurd said, “Did you write that?”

“Yes,” you said without thinking. After all a little white lie never hurt? Besides its not like Taylor would know or anyone could prove you wrong, “Yes I did,”

“You’re very talented,” Ubbe said, passing you the wine.

You looked at it sceptically before finally taking a drink. It’s not like they’d need to poison you anyway. You were already screwed. You all began to drink and laugh the night away as you played a few more songs on the guitar, even letting the boys try have a shot. What you didn’t see however was Bjorn standing beside the door to your room, smiling softly whenever you sang.

-

 The next day Ubbe offered to give you a tour of Kattegat so you could get to know the place. “This is the market,” he said as a little girl ran away from you to her mother making you bite back a laugh, “Sorry about that. They’ll be less frightened of you soon,”

You chuckled at his words making a smile stretch on his face, “Its ironic. Out of everyone here I’m the least frightening one,”

“I don’t know so much,” he said. You narrowed your eyes at him with a curious smile making him chuckle, “Weve never met anyone like you. you are so…” he paused searching for the right word,” rare,”

“That’s the nicest thing I think someone has ever said to me,” you said.

Ubbe gave you a soft smile as he led you around the stalls. You tried to refuse it, but he did buy you a knife, promising to show you how to use it just encase. Even the way he insisted made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

As you were walking around the market you did bump into someone. “Bjorn!” Ubbe called to his brother who wore an uncomfortably stoic look as he walked over. “I was just showing her round Kattegat,”

Bjorn nodded, his eyes scanning your frame, “Good. Can’t have you getting lost now, can we? Think my father might have a fit if we lost you,” something about the way his eyes studied you had a heat creeping up the back of your neck.

“I hope all his questions don’t bother you,” Ubbe said, giving you a sorry smile.

It was true that every conversation with Ragnar was like an interrogation. He wanted to know everything you could tell him about the future and honestly you didn’t know how to explain how a television worked. “I don’t mind. Its sweet,” you said making them both chuckle, “What?”

“Most people would not describe my father as sweet,” Bjorn said, a smile finally cracked onto his lips.

“She’s also friends with Ivar so she may not be fully right in the head,” Ubbe teased.

“Ivars not that bad,” you rolled your eyes, but both their eyes seemed to bulge out their skulls, “He’s a lot nicer when people aren’t constantly picking on him,” you half joked though you did hate how they teased him. especially Sigurd who whenever Ivar wasn’t around was kind but whenever he walked into the room you could cut the air with a knife.

Ubbe just tutted at you, “Oh you have much to learn sweet, foolish, girl. It’s a good thing we found you when we did,” You did your best to roll your eyes and blow him off but for the rest of the day you found your mind wandering. What would it be like to date a Viking?

Part four here

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#vikings #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings fanfic #vikings x you #ubbe x reader #ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe ragnorsson x reader #sigurd ragnarsson #sigurd ragnorsson x reader #sigurd x reader #sigurd #sigurd snake eye x reader #hviserk #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #ivar x reader #ivar #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnorsson #ivar ragnarsson x reader

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

WEEWOO IM HERE FOR THE EVENT!! (also smth I noticed, you can't copy paste your moots @ from one post to another, bc they don't receive the notif;_; I checked my mentions for your @ and uh- nope)

ANYWAY "nights spent in" with Leona pls (or Ruggie or Kalim or Jack or Jamil 💀💀) I just want a lazy night with takeout and cuddles and looking at the city/town from the hotel or room balcony in peace but I also need this frigging degree-

Nights Spent In; Leona Kingscholar

Content; Fluff, so much fluff, gender-neutral reader, romance

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; I came up with a whole meal for this and I want everything. All of the food mentioned is North Indian vegetarian food, except for Leona's. Best of luck with that degree, Soru!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You were lounging on the sofa on the balcony, a light breeze coming off the waves helping cut most of the heat from the day as night slowly painted the sky in a deep navy. Honestly, you could fall asleep right here, since you were warm and very comfy. Count on the royal family of the Sunset Savannah to spare no expense, even when it came to their balcony furniture for the smallest of their vacation homes. 

Speaking of the Kingscholars, Leona had said that he was going out to grab you both dinner, which would have shocked anyone else, but he put in the work when it came to you. You were the exception. Of course, though, he expected something in return, which was usually either using you as his pillow or giving him a kiss… or several until he was satisfied with how fast he could make your heart flutter. Smug bastard…

“Hmm, I went through all the trouble of gettin’ you food and here you are nearly passed out,” he sighed, having sneaked up on you. But he sighed, putting the food down.

Leona leisurely walked over to you before promptly laying on top of you and resting his chin on your shoulder, trapping you. He let out a long sigh and bumped his head against yours.

Taking the message, you started scratching behind his ears and hummed. “I thought I had to pay you back after we ate,” you mused.

He chuffed, but his tail was slowly waving back and forth in a relaxed manner, he was only putting on a show. “You can pay me now and then,” he grumbled, looking up at you and raising a brow expectantly.

You knew that face, it was the face that he made when he wanted a kiss but didn’t want to say it. “You can get the rest of it, but after we eat-” your stomach made a low rumble underscoring your statement. “Before I decide to eat you instead,” you joked, and poked him in the ribs to prompt him to get off you.

Leona rolled his eyes, but yielded, he wanted his damn kisses sooner rather than later. Plus the last time he had decided to lay on you and prevent you from getting food, you had indeed bit him. Even though you didn’t really leave a mark, it still stung a bit, and he would rather not get teased by the others if they found out it had happened again.

“What did you get by the way,” you asked. Whatever it was smelled divine. Your stomach gurgled even louder, sounding more akin to some beast demanding food.

Leona chuckled a bit at the commotion, but brought the food out. “Went to a small place, family run and owned,” and he brought out several containers of food. He looked at his order, “Malai kofta, raita, paratha, mattar paneer-”

You saw one other container and raised a brow.

“Rogan josh,” he answered, swiping the container away from you.

You rolled your eyes at him, but you were more than happy at the food he had got, and knew that he left a hefty tip even though he would deny it. Not only had he made you, and your ravenous stomach’s, night, but also the restaurant owners’ as well. 

Now content and full of food, the both of you laid in bed, your legs intertwined. “Thanks for getting dinner,” you hummed, feeling the sleepiness from earlier returning.

Leona turned his head to you, and rubbed circles on your hip, slowly. He was wearing the same expectant look again. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” But there was no smugness, Leona was full and just as tired as you, so he was more like a tired kitty looking for some love.

You shuffled over and placed a gentle kiss to his lips, and he let out a tired sigh, pupils dilating into round saucers. “I love you,” you placed another kiss on his lips before placing one on his scar and lingering there.

He bumped his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know… I love you too.”

~~~~~~~

Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @inkybloom-luv, @savanaclaw1996, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii @leonistic

#dove does events #follower event #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar x gn reader #i brain rotted. all of these are making me brain rot dear gods #also north indian & punjabi food SLAPS; if you haven't had some you really need to try it; i need to make these #pspspspsp here leona simps pspspspspspsp #<- i'm calling you over like cats yes #also i like the hc that leona head bumps as a form of affection cuz that's what cats do; leona simps were robbed of him purring though #the overgrown house cat is growing on me and he's all smug about it too uGh #soft leona hours? more likely than you think #he deserves softness and fluff #you're getting this a bit earlier than expected [by a few hours] but i have some running around to do #soru! #is food a content warning??? #cw food #<- oh apparently so

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I am I the asshole for telling someone what they were doing was "mean spirited and cruel"?

(submitted this a while back but was never posted - don't know if tumblr ate it or if it broke a rule, but i'm sorry if its the latter)

My complex has a facebook page where residents can post questions or concerns to other residents. One day a woman posted asking if we could move the food bowls where people feed the feral cat colony that lives near us because when she walks her dogs they always lunge at the cats; she had just had surgery and it hurt when they pulled on the leash. Someone responded saying they had moved the bowls down and that seemed like that.

Two days later she posted again saying that our "kind and caring neighbor" (her) had called someone to come pick up the cats. From another comment on the post it seemed like she had talked to someone IRL who was rude and basically told her "I've been feeding the cats for 10 years fuck off" and then called animal control immediately after that.

This felt really petty to me, and I posted saying that calling animal control on the cats was "mean spirited and cruel". I explained that almost all feral cats taken in are put down, and that she was making a decision about the community's cats without consulting the community. I added that I was sorry she had been hurting since her surgery, but that there were other steps she should have taken before this.

She responded that I needed to have more compassion for her as she herself was very compassionate and caring person. To which I responded that she should then extend that compassion to these cats that had never hurt anyone. (Seriously, they just chill around our complex and eat rats – they’ve never scratched or bit any person or animal)

She responded that they hurt her “fur babies” everyday because they make her dogs pull at their leashes and choke themselves. She then went on a rant about how she didn’t understand why people weren’t respecting her anger and that since she lived here she had a right to want the cats gone. She also mentioned that calling her “mean spirited and cruel” had racial connotations and that I wouldn’t call a white person that.

Important context, I am a white woman – up until this point I had not realized that she was a black woman as this argument was in a facebook group and the pictures were small. But it is very possible this is something I saw and internalized without consciously recognizing it.

I was really thrown by this, and just replied yes, I would and that I’m sorry it hurt to hear, but that is what her actions were. (Which, yeah, nobody ever not in the racist category uses the ‘I’d say that to anyone!’ excuse, but I truly didn’t know what to say). She continued to respond to my comment saying how I was a pitiful person if I’d really call anyone that, and that I hadn’t addressed any of her other points.

More people where commenting at the same time on this post, and while she responded to all of them my “mean spirited and cruel” comment apparently really got her because she kept bringing it up in arguments with other people. She really felt that people were being unjustifiably angry and mean to her for something she thought she had a right to do.

It also came out that she had apparently posted complaining about the cats the day before but it had gotten so out of hand the post was deleted before I could see it. She had also gotten into several arguments IRL with people feeding the cats. This explains why she felt so ganged up on I suppose – though none of this I knew before replying.

The next day she specifically made a new post calling out racists in our community and tagged me and few other people (even other POC) who had disagreed with her about the cats. I didn’t respond, but fairly quickly that and the post from before were deleted.

I’ve been really trying to think about if my internalized racism did unknowingly influence my actions, but I honestly keep coming back to the fact that I think I would have said the same to anyone who tried to get a cat colony killed because her dogs try to attack them.

Also for those curious – the cat colony is still here! It turns out removing a cat colony from their home is actually considered animal cruelty and is illegal in this state

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[wheresarizona]

Learning to Live Part 22

summary: Javier arrives home in a grumpy mood because somebody (you) decided to tease him before work, and now he’s going to get his revenge. Once that’s taken care of, it’s time to meet his family to celebrate Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) and pretend like you didn’t get fucked within an inch of your life earlier. 

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, age gap (about ten years), soft Javier Peña, grumpy Javier Peña, dom Javier Peña, alternating pov, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (f!receiving), vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, edging, light bondage (he uses his tie), dom/sub vibes, (1) pussy slap, spanking, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise kink (oh wow, are you told how good you’re doing), begging, spit mention, kitchen sex, I swear this chapter is really wholesome, domestic fluff, fluff, death of a parent/grief, emotional hurt/comfort, food as a metaphor for love, family fluff, family bonding, Javier and reader playing matchmakers, hanging out with Chucho and the fam, celebrating Día de los Muertos, Javier saying very romantic things)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 19.6k+ (in my defense, it’s a good time)

a/n: Hey, besties! Okay, so the general vibe of this chapter is good feels. Are there emotional moments that might make you tear up? Yes. But overall, we’re having a good time remembering Javier’s mom. A big thank you to @kilamonster, who helped me with the holiday info and double-checked what I wrote. Shoutout to @juletheghoul for making sure my Spanish made sense and always being by my side. And a huge thank you to @senorabond for betaing!

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

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The seasons had changed, and like a piece of twine, your and Javier’s lives had become so intertwined it was hard to see the individual threads—there was no you or him anymore; it was you both together always, a mated pair, making each other stronger and happier than ever.

Not only had your life melded with your boyfriend’s, his family, too, had taken you in, treating you like your last name was already Peña and happily including you in their get-togethers. Everyone was so warm and welcoming, introducing you to different aspects of their culture, which was important to you to know for your future children, Javi and you wanting them to be well aware and proud of their Mexican roots, both agreeing they’d be raised speaking English and Spanish. 

After the first tamalada (tamale-making party), the two of you made it a point to go to his tía María’s on Sundays for the weekly family gathering where everyone ate delicious food, drank too much beer and tequila, and hung out for hours. His tías ushered you into the kitchen as soon as you got there to cook with them, their daughters, and daughters-in-law, Javi always close by and getting roped into helping, too, since he followed you around like a big, beautiful, brown-eyed puppy dog. 

In the time that’s passed since first meeting your boyfriend’s extended family, there’d been a couple more tamaladas hosted with Javi happily included; the regular Sunday gatherings, of course; many birthdays; Día de la Independencia (Day of Independence or Mexican Independence Day) that ended up being a big party at Chucho’s where Javi’s primos (cousins) had gotten their hands on illegal bottle rockets and put on quite the firework show. 

Now you were celebrating another holiday with them. 

It was a Monday in November, Javi and you getting off work a couple of hours early, you arriving home before him while he was out running errands. You had changed into cotton shorts and an oversized t-shirt to be comfortable while you cooked food for the evening, planning to get dressed closer to leaving. 

Your recipe journal was open on the kitchen counter, showing one you copied from your boyfriend’s mom’s recipe cards out at the ranch—a covered skillet was on the stove with chopped-up flank steak simmering in a tomatillo mixture, figuring out in your head when you should work on the next step that wouldn’t take too long, but also couldn’t be done too soon. 

The sound of the front door being unlocked out in the main room found your ears, hearing Javi coming inside, and shutting it behind him, followed by plastic rustling, assuming he was putting down what he bought on the couch. 

Frowning, you wondered why he hadn’t called out to you, which was usually the first thing he did after arriving home. 

“Javi?” you said loud enough for him to hear. 

Soft footsteps were getting closer, turning your head in the direction of the doorway to see him walking purposefully, strutting, your way with his face pinched in a grumpy expression, his gaze burning when it locked on yours, making you gulp. 

You were in trouble. 

And if you had to guess, it was because of what you’d done that morning. 

He’d discarded his grey suit jacket, half the buttons open on his white dress shirt, and his gold and charcoal tie undone, it resting around his neck on either side of his chest. 

“What’s wro—” Your sentence was cut off when his mouth crashed against yours, kissing you hard, his hands grabbing your waist to turn you toward him, glad you weren’t holding anything. 

His palms moved down to squeeze your ass, moaning when he shoved his tongue into your mouth, tangling your fingers in his hair's soft, thick strands. The way he was kissing you made arousal burn brightly in your belly, feeling it dripping into your panties. 

Your lips were fused together until your lungs ached with the need to breathe, him nibbling on your bottom lip, then your chin as you both panted. 

“What are you doing?” you asked through heavy breaths, gasping when he sucked on your pulse point. 

His head came up to look you in the eyes, his eyebrows dipping low, seeing his frowning lips were red and shiny from spit. 

“Finishing what you fucking started this morning,” he said in a deep rasp.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah— ” He glanced over to the stove. “—how long does that need to simmer for?” he asked, meeting your gaze once more. 

Checking your wristwatch, you answered, “Forty-fiveish minutes.” 

The wheels were turning behind his eyes, imagining him doing math in his head until finally, he nodded once. “That’s enough time.” 

Your eyes went wide. “Enough time for what? There are other things I have to do for the stew…”

“Fine, I’ll do it in thirty—pants off.” He crouched in front of you, pulling down your shorts to your ankles.   

“Javier,” you exclaimed. 

His head tilted up to look at you. “If you tell me to stop, I will.” 

“I don’t want you to stop—I’m just really caught off guard.” 

His eyebrow arched, still frowning. “You shouldn’t be with how fucking mean you were to me this morning, teasing me by wearing nothing but this fucking thong—” His fingers went into the waistband of it, tugging it down to join your cotton shorts. “—rubbing up on me, grabbing my dick, and then you got dressed and gave me one of those kisses that usually leads to more, and you just left me in the fucking kitchen hard as a rock.” 

“I was running late for work?” you tried. 

His eyes narrowed. “Bullshit—you just wanted to fuck with me.” 

A smile pulled up on your lips. “Yeah, I did, and look at how needy you are,” you replied, stroking your hand through his hair. 

He freed your feet, standing back up with a grunt. His hands squeezed the globes of your bare ass then one landed on a cheek in a loud smack that had your breath stuttering. “I’m not fucking needy,” he said. “You got me horny on purpose and made sure I didn’t have enough time to jack off—you were a bad fucking girl—” He slapped your other asscheek. “—and now I’m gonna fucking give it to you.” A hot spike of arousal slammed into you at his words, your breath hitching in your throat. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Well, now you’re gonna fucking get it—hold up your hands.” 

Doing as he said, you put your hands up in front of your chest, watching as he pulled the tie off from his neck, your eyes going wide at realizing what he was going to do. 

“You don’t get to touch me,” he told you. The silky material was buttery soft as it went around your wrists, Javi moving quickly, wrapping them up in some practiced way that when he pulled on the ends of the tie, it cinched your arms together before he was knotting it. He stuck a finger inside to ensure there was a little gap so you didn’t lose circulation, nodding to himself when satisfied. 

His gaze met yours, his eyes softening. “Is this okay?” he asked gently. 

There was a double meaning to his question, him really asking if you were okay with his demeanor and being tied up—it was a resounding yes to both. 

Smiling, you replied, “This is more than okay, babe. Be grumpy again. It’s sexy.”

Curiosity was why you decided to tease him that morning, wondering what would happen if you left him hanging. Honestly, you expected him to show up at your work unannounced to drag you into a supply closet, but he hadn’t; he didn’t even call you on your lunch break, which was very abnormal. 

He huffed out a breath, a little smile on his lips. “Okay,” he said, his hand sliding along your jaw, cupping it. “But if it’s too much, tell me.” 

“Of course—I trust you.” 

“Good. I’ve got you, mi amor (my love).” 

Grabbing your waist, his lips found yours once more, kissing you while he walked you to the opposite side of the kitchen until your ass was pressing into the counter. Gripping your thighs, Javi grunted as he lifted you to sit on the countertop, taking up the space between your spread legs, breaking the kiss so he could work open the rest of his dress shirt, it falling to the floor when he shrugged it off. 

You leaned back, your shoulders and head resting against the wall cabinet, his attention coming back to you using one hand to lift your tied ones above you to hang them by the tie on a knob. Feeling the smooth wood under them, his other hand pushed one side of your t-shirt up your chest, pulling down the cup of your bra to free your breast. He pinched your nipple, his head dipping down to engulf it with the warmth of his mouth, making you gasp his name at the tingles shooting straight to your weeping cunt. 

Coming off your hard bud with a wet pop, he straightened, a serious expression on his face, meeting your gaze with his darkened pools.

“Keep your hands up like this,” he said. “Understand?” 

“Yes, Javi,” you answered, nodding your head. “Keep them up, and don’t touch you.” 

You could feel your heartbeat at the apex of your thighs, so turned on by the idea of being at his mercy. 

“My good girl,” he purred, rubbing his palms up your thighs, his words making you shiver.

He crouched down again, this time putting your legs over his broad shoulders, his big hands pulling your ass to the edge of the countertop, causing you to lean back further, the air biting cold on your wet nipple. 

You could see him there between your legs, his eyes on yours as he sucked two thick fingers between his lips, expecting it when he easily pushed them into your pussy, your mouth going slack at the slight stretch. His head moved forward, licking a broad stripe through your folds, the pleasure causing your back to arch, his fingers inside you sliding against your top wall to rub over that one spot only he could find, making your toes curl at how good it felt.

There wasn’t time for him to tease you or to draw things out, he was a man on a mission to get you off as quickly as possible with the time constraints, and he knew exactly how to play your body like a goddamn fiddle. 

His lips wrapped around the swollen berry of your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue side to side over it while his digits kept pressing into nirvana, again, and again, and again—the heat was building in your core, feeling the vibrations of his groans, moaning at the sensations that were getting you closer, and closer to your end. 

Sweat was beginning to bead on your forehead, your hands above your head struggling under the restraints, wishing you could pull his hair, the knot in your belly winding tighter. 

“Oh god, Javi,” you gasped. “I’m so fucking close—you’re gonna make me come.” 

Suddenly he was stopping, his mouth and hand leaving you, eliciting a pitiful whine from your throat. Your eyes widened as you looked down at him with his mustache and the bottom half of his face shiny with your slick. 

Pouting at him for ruining your orgasm, you panted, “Why’d you stop? I was almost there.” 

“What?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “You don’t like someone working you up, then stopping just to be mean?” 

You groaned. ���Javi, I’m sorry! I didn’t do it to be mean. I just wanted to see what your reaction would be.” 

“Yeah? Well, I was a real asshole at work, and now you don’t get to come until I say you can,” he said, lightly smacking your clit, the shock of pleasure pulling a moan from your lips. 

He moved your legs off his shoulders so he could stand, and you wondered why you were so into this… Maybe it was relinquishing yourself entirely over to him and giving him all of the power in making you feel good, or him being a little mean which was very different—whatever it was, it had your pussy throbbing. 

He continued speaking, asking, “Do you understand?” 

“Yes,” you answered, frowning. “No coming until you say I can.” 

“Good girl,” he replied, his hands moving up and down your thighs while his gaze was on yours. His eyes went soft again. “I love you.” 

That made you smile, thinking it was sweet he was still so loving after you’d frustrated him so much. “I love you, too.” His lips quirked up a little. “I don’t know why, but this is really hot. When I decided to try out my experiment this morning, I kinda thought you might show up at my work to rail me in a storage room or something—definitely didn’t expect getting tied up and you being all dommy, which I’m really into, by the way.” 

Leaning in, his hands went beside you on the countertop, his head so close the tips of your noses were touching, smelling yourself on his face. “You wanted me to be so fucking horny that I’d fuck you at your work?” He nudged your nose with his, feeling the ghost of his breath on your lips. 

“Maybe,” you whispered.

He smirked. “My dirty fucking girl—I knew you were testing me.” His mouth was a hair's breadth away from yours, wanting him to kiss you. “You teased the fuck out of me, and I’ve had all fucking day to think about how I was gonna tease you back.” 

“Yeah? You gonna make me beg for you to let me come?” 

All his weight went to his right arm as he lifted his left hand to read the silver watch on his wrist, his eyes squinting. “We’ve got time for me to make you beg.” His gaze met yours again. “I’m gonna go hard,” he said, standing straight up while his hands went to the front of his pants where they were bulging, hearing the clank of him opening his belt and him pulling down his zipper. “And I’m not gonna give in the first time you beg.” 

Your cunt clenched hard around nothing. “Bring it on.” 

Javi snorted, spitting on his fingers and stroking them over his hard cock to get it slick. “We’ll see if you still feel that way when I don’t let you come a couple of times, baby.” He shuffled forward, notching himself at your entrance, and wasted no time pressing inside, sliding all the way to the root in one smooth thrust. 

Your mouths had fallen open, seeing his throat work as he swallowed hard, his cock stretching you open. It was truly fascinating that after the many, many times he’d been inside you, he still managed to steal your breath by how big he was on the first stroke. 

Your legs went around his middle, locking at the small of his back, feeling the splay of muscles move as he pulled out almost all the way and pushed back in hard, setting up a brutal pace that had your body jolting from the pounding he was giving you.

His hand snaked between your bodies to press his thumb to your sensitive little clit, the pleasure dancing in your center—his thick cock was easily moving in and out of you from how wet you were, rocketing you toward your release, unable to keep from moaning.

It was embarrassing how quickly he was working you up, his face screwed up like he was in pain, mouth open panting breaths, his forehead starting to glisten in sweat with a gorgeous flush moving up his chest and neck to paint his cheeks—he was breathtakingly beautiful as he fucked you, your fingers itching to touch his skin. 

“Can feel you fluttering,” he said through his teeth. “You close?” 

The heat in your belly was getting hotter, wanting to come so bad, but also not wanting to give in so easily, swallowing thickly. “Yes, I’m almost there,” you answered around heavy breaths. 

He came to a stop, pushed all the way inside you, his thumb moving off you, causing your teeth to clench, stifling your whimper from your orgasm dissipating. 

His skin shone with a sheen of sweat, his bangs wetly sticking to his forehead, eyes so dark barely any brown remained. 

His eyebrow rose, voice rough, “You gonna beg me to let you come?” 

“Nope,” you defiantly replied. 

“Right,” he said, not sounding like he believed you. 

He started moving again when you relaxed, his thumb back in place, circling your bundle of nerves a little harder, his thrusts at the same punishing pace as before. He leaned forward, the side of his face pressed against yours, as he said into your ear, “I think you wanna beg me to come.” The fire in your core was starting to rapidly build again. “‘Cause you know once you go, I can, and you want me to fill you up—you want me to stuff you full.” Your eyes had squeezed shut, trying to stave off your orgasm, his words adding fuel to the flames. “You want me to work it so deep it finally fucking takes.” 

Your brain short-circuited, it all too much. “Please let me come, Javi,” you whined.

Immediately he was stopping, and it made you whine his name louder. 

“No.” He kissed your cheek, his hand rubbing soothingly over your back. “Not yet, baby.” 

Your climax slipped away, the need to come starting to make you ache in your lower belly. You were breathing hard, your hands still over your head, wishing you could swat at his chest and settling with lightly knocking your head against his. “That was playing fucking dirty, and you know it,” you said, your body still coming down from the almost high. 

He moved to look you in the eyes. 

“Uh huh, says the woman who put on the thong l love and suddenly had to do a lot of bending over while I tried to get dressed for work. I’m the one playing dirty—pot calling the kettle, Cielito, and two can play your game.” He placed a loud smacking kiss on your cheek. “You good?” 

Your skin was wet with sweat, Javi’s too, and you weren’t entirely sure how much more of this you could take, knowing if you told him ‘yellow’ or your safeword, he’d let you come immediately. You didn’t think this warranted either of those words… yet. 

“I’m good.” You nodded. 

“Atta girl,” he said, kissing your forehead. “You’re doing so good for me, mi amor (my love).”

He went back to doing what he was before, his cock pounding into you while he thumbed your clit, once again finding yourself close to an orgasm in record time, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter. His free hand came up to squeeze your breast, his fingers tweaking your stiff nipple, and it was like he had a direct line to your cunt, making you clench around him, Javi groaning as gasping moans fell from your lips. 

The pressure was building inside you until he worked you up to your breaking point, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as you begged, “Please, Javi, I need to come—let me come. Please.” 

“Come for me, mi Cielito (my little heaven),” he panted in your ear. “You did so fucking good for me—come, mi amor (my love). Such a good fucking girl.”

That was all you needed to hear, pleasure exploding inside you, coming with a cry of his name—electricity radiated outward from your center, your body hot, tingling, and tensing up so tight it made his rhythm stutter, a guttural noise coming from Javi’s throat. 

He sounded wrecked. “‘M gonna come—fuck, I’m coming.” His face dropped to the crook of your neck, feeling his hot breaths, him thrusting faster, it sounding wet between your legs where you were joined. Finally, he pushed in to the hilt, bottoming out as he came with a strangled moan. His teeth bit into the meat of your shoulder, making you gasp at the sweet sting, feeling as he gushed inside you. 

Seconds passed as you caught your breaths, his head coming up to tenderly kiss you, all slow and languid—he lifted his hands above your head to free your own, and you immediately pushed your fingers into his sweaty hair, him humming appreciatively in the back of his throat, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close. 

Everything was forgotten, losing yourself in him, feeling him beneath your fingers, your lips, against your body; smelling his spicy cologne, and something that was uniquely him, something that was simply Javi, making you think of home and happiness. 

Panic slammed into you like a truck, suddenly remembering you’d been cooking before he interrupted, abruptly breaking the kiss. 

“The stew!” you shouted, pushing on his chest to make him move, Javi hissing as he pulled out, stepping out of your way. 

Hopping down from the counter, you ignored how his come was dripping down your inner thighs, rushing to the sink, quickly washing your hands, then moving to the stove, taking the lid off the skillet. A relieved breath left you as you used a large plastic spoon to stir the mixture, thankful it hadn’t burned and knowing you needed to work on the next step. 

“You’re a lying liar who lies, Javier Peña,” you said, turning down the burner to low to keep the food warm and walking over to your notebook to read the instructions. 

Arms wrapped around your middle, Javi kissing your hair, murmuring into it, “What did I lie about?”

“You said you could do it in thirty, and you used the whole forty-five—please, put your dick away and wash your hands. I need your help.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, kissing your head again, hearing him zipping up his pants and putting his belt on, finding himself beside you at the sink while he washed his hands. 

“Wash your face, too,” you told him, grabbing some paper towels from a roll on the counter, Javi cleaning his hands.

“If you begged sooner, I could’ve done it in thirty,” he said, splashing some water onto his face.

“Right, it’s my fault.” You rolled your eyes, handing him the towels he used to dry himself off, throwing them away in the trash can under the sink when he was done.

He turned toward you, resting his hip against the counter while his arms crossed over his naked chest, and damn were they looking good, seeing the muscle definition. There were dark and faded marks you sucked over his pecs and on the column of his throat, one a dark purple right where his left shoulder met his neck from biting him while you rode him in the bath a few nights ago. Your eyes lowered to look at his soft belly and the trail of hair leading down into his grey slacks, knowing what they were hiding. 

“I just fucked you,” he sounded amused, “and you’re undressing me with your eyes.” Your gaze met his, seeing him shaking his head with a fond smile. “It is your fault, Cielito, since you’re the one who started it this morning.” 

He had you there. 

“Fine, it’s my fault.” You frowned. “And, of course, I’m checking you out. You’re standing here looking sexy as fuck, and it’s like I can’t believe all this—“ You gestured at him. “—is mine. You love me. You’re going to marry me one day, and we’re going to have kids together, and as a bonus, you’re a goddamn sex god.” He snorted.

“I’m not a sex god.”

“Um, the absolutely ridiculous amount of orgasms you’ve given me begs to differ. You, sir—“ You poked the center of his chest. “—are a sex god, and I can’t be convinced otherwise.”

His large hand engulfed yours, bringing it up to kiss each of your knuckles and the center of your palm, his big brown eyes on yours. 

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he replied, pulling you toward him so you were chest to chest, his arm going around your back, his other hand cradling your jaw, seeing the devotion clear in his gaze. “And that you love me, want to marry me, and fuck, want to have my kids. Feel like I need to pinch myself to make sure this isn’t all a fucking dream half the time.” He smiled. “And as a bonus, you’re so fucking beautiful and sexy and the best lay I’ve ever had, so I guess that makes you a sex goddess.”

“I am definitely not a sex goddess.”

He frowned, his eyebrows dipping together. 

“Stop that shit. We don’t do that anymore—we’re kind to ourselves, and if you get to call me a sex god, I can call you a sex goddess ‘cause it’s a fucking fact.” 

You smiled. “Fine, I’ll be your sex goddess.” That had him grinning, his dimple appearing. “And I’ll be kinder to myself like the therapist said, but the struggle is real.” 

“I know, baby.” He leaned in to kiss you gently. “You’ve got me,” he said into your lips. “I’ll help you like you help me.” 

After Javi had that panic attack months ago, he brought up seeing a professional, and you were more than happy to help him find one who happened to be a couple of towns over. It was such a massive step for him, and you wanted to be supportive and encouraging in him getting help, so you suggested the two of you try couple’s therapy, too. Not because there were issues in your relationship, but as a way to communicate better, and also help you through your own shit. Frankly, coming from a dysfunctional family that gave you an inferiority complex and low self-esteem really needed to be addressed, and he’d agreed to do it with you. He had weekly individual sessions, and the two of you went every two weeks. Both of you were noticing a big difference in him—he didn’t get caught up in his head as much and talked things out with you if something was bothering him. There hadn’t been any more panic attacks, and it felt like he was really healing and working up the courage to tell you about his past. That was something that still scared him a bit, but the therapist had said he needed to tell you when he was ready. 

Pulling back, you looked him in the eyes. “I love you,” you told him. 

“I love you, too.” 

“We better finish cooking. Can you start heating the pinto beans on the stove? We just need them warmed up, and I already got out the saucepan,” you said, pointing toward the stove. “I need to go to the bathroom and clean myself up because it feels wrong cooking with your come coating my thighs, and I’m not digging the whole no underwear thing.” 

He cupped your cheeks, looking at you fondly. “Go take care of yourself, mi alma (my soul). I’ll get the beans going and start chopping up the garnish.”

Smiling, you replied, “You’re perfect, and I love you so fucking much.” 

He matched your look, his head coming closer to kiss you. “I love you, too,” he said against your lips. 

An hour and a half later, the two of you had finished with the food, showered, dressed, and were making your way to meet Javi’s family. 

The scenery was aflame with vibrant gold and pumpkin autumn leaves, the weather finally cooling down as it got closer to winter. It was balmy outside, the kind of day where you could wear your nice, new dress you’d gotten for the occasion and not worry about sweating from it being too hot or needing a jacket because it was too cold. The burgundy red A-line dress was embroidered with long green stemmed pink and white roses that were identical to the ones in Javier’s mother’s flower garden at the ranch, your boyfriend wearing a matching colored short-sleeved button-up sans the flowers, and his usual tight-ass dark wash jeans. 

You were sitting beside him on the bench seat in his truck as he drove. 

“Oh my god,” you started, turning your head toward your boyfriend, your fingers laced together on your thigh, “we were so busy, I forgot to tell you the hot gossip from work.” 

His aviators were on, glancing over to meet your eyes with a smile. “Cuéntame el chisme, mi amor (Tell me the gossip, my love).”

“Okay, so Friday night, Robyn went to the bar and met some guy that she spent the entire weekend with, and as of this morning, he was still at her apartment, and Javi, that’s not the kicker.”

“What’s the kicker?” 

“She genuinely likes this guy a lot. She actually blushed while she told me about him and was so giggly—she’s got it bad.” 

“That’s such a big fucking deal. She hasn’t dated since—”

“Her fiancé cheated on her six years ago! I know! This is huge, and I’m dying to meet him.”

“Maybe we can all go out for drinks?” 

“Maybe.” You chewed on your lip. “I’d worry about spooking her, though. Relationships have freaked her out since her ex, and I really think she’s scared to fall in love again—doesn’t want to risk having her heart broken.” He hummed in agreement, the blinker clicking as he turned onto another street. “Apparently, they didn’t leave her place at all, and he kept up with her in bed. I’ll save you the details, and just say it sounded so fucking exhausting and absolutely put our marathons to shame.” That made him frown. “Wait, have you heard of a Pop Rocks blow job?” 

He looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “What the fuck is that?” 

You giggled. “Something I learned about this morning. You know the Pop Rocks candy that pops and crackles in your mouth?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Okay, so, with a mouthful of those, you go down on a guy, and I guess it’s a fun sensation for the person with a dick.” 

There was a thoughtful expression on his face. “Sounds… sticky. I don’t know…” His attention went back to the road.

“I’d be more worried about choking on the excess saliva in my mouth—now, flavored lube I could get behind. Make your dick taste like strawberries.” 

He chuckled. “We can go to the city and find a sex shop to get some,” he said, turning his head to kiss your forehead. 

That had you thinking of the things you’d find in such a place, the truck's cab suddenly feeling hot even though the air conditioning was at full blast. 

“Wait, find a sex shop?” you asked. “Don’t lie to me. You know exactly where one is.” 

“If it’s still there… I haven’t been since college.” 

“There’s so much stuff we could buy…” you mused. 

He perked up in the driver’s seat. “Like what?” 

You snorted. “We’ll talk about it later, babe,” you said, unlacing your hand to pat his thigh. “We can’t get horny right now.” 

“You’re the one bringing up candy blowjobs…” he grumbled. 

“It was a genuine question since, you know, you’re more experienced…” 

A long sigh left him. “You just called me old.” 

His fortieth birthday was on the horizon, and the closer it got, the more sensitive he was about getting older. 

“No I did not, Javier. I said experienced. There was no mention of your age.” 

His jaw flexed. “It was implied.” 

“Javi, baby?”

“Yes, Cielito?” 

“Apparently, you need a reminder that I do not care about how old you are and that I find you and your experience very sexy. I mean, you literally just made me come so fucking hard, and I was immediately horny for you again—hell, if we didn’t have plans, I would’ve dragged you to the bedroom for round two.” 

His chest puffed up, crookedly smiling when he glanced over at you. 

“Yeah? Round two? How would that have gone?”

“Stop trying to make us horny!” you laughed. 

His face went grumpy. “Then quit talking about sex!” 

“Fine! A safe topic. You said you were an asshole at work today, and since it was my fault, I feel like I should bake your office apology muffins.”

He sighed again. “Yeah, that’s a good idea—we can make apology muffins.”

“Then we will.” 

“Thank you, baby,” he said, taking your hand in his and gently squeezing it. “Cielito?”

“Yes, my love?” you asked, leaning in to kiss his cheek, making him smile. 

“¿Quieres saber un secreto (Do you want to know a secret)?”

“Sí, siempre (Yes, always).”

His hand moved from yours to press against his heart, the other squeezing the steering wheel's leather so tight it creaked. 

“Eres el amor de mi vida y mi mejor amiga (You are the love of my life and my best friend). Te amo más de lo que puedo expresar con palabras y soy el hombre más afortunado del mundo porque me amas (I love you more than I can put into words, and am the luckiest man on earth because you love me). Eres mi mejor amiga y mi media naranja y no cambiaría nada (You are my best friend and my soulmate and I wouldn’t change anything).”

“Oh, Javi.” You couldn’t help it, smothering his cheek and jaw in kisses. “Te amo mucho (I love you so much).” Your voice was muffled against his skin, speaking between each kiss. “Mi amor, mi vida, mi media naranja, mi mejor amigo (My love, my life, my soulmate, my best friend). Quiero ser la madre de tus bebés (I want to be the mother of your babies).”

He chuckled, his head moving to kiss your lips. 

“Te amo y quiero que tengas a mis bebés—quiero pasar el resto de mi vida contigo (I love you, and I want you to have my babies—I want to spend the rest of my life with you).” 

Pulling back, you were grinning. “Well, you’re in luck ‘cause you’re stuck with me until the end—we’re gonna be old as fuck and wrinkly, and I’ll still think you’re the hottest man alive.”

He laughed, focusing on the road. 

“Our kids are gonna be so fucking disgusted by us.”

“Isn’t that nice, though? Them being disgusted ‘cause we’re so sickeningly in love with each other, but we’ll be a great example of what they should look for in a relationship—like your parents. That’s the kind of love we want to have.”

He raised your hand to kiss the back, turning his head to look at you. 

“No need to want it,” he said. “We’ve already got it.”

And you couldn’t agree more.  

It wasn’t long before you arrived, both getting out of the truck and grabbing what you’d brought, finding it truly impressive the number of full plastic grocery bags Javi could strategically hold in one of his big hands and how many bouquets of brightly colored orange flowers were in his other arm—at the same time, you carried a picnic basket in one hand and a large red and white checkered picnic blanket in the other, pressed to your chest. 

The neatly cut grass cushioned your steps as you walked to your destination, a trek you’d become familiar with over the months you’d been together.

“Do you think we got enough flowers?” you asked, turning your head toward him. 

He met your eyes, smiling. “Pop picked up some, too, and he brought some of mi mamá’s (my mom’s) roses.” 

“Awesome.” Looking forward again, you spotted Chucho, saying, “Oh, good, he’s already here.” 

“Yeah, the church service would’ve gotten out a little while ago.” 

Approaching the older man, you found him on his knees with his back to you, a bucket of water next to him, and a scrub brush in his hand, scrubbing the wet grey stone in front of him. As Javi said, there were more flowers near his dad, along with a tote bag full of stuff and a small cooler next to a set-up brown and mustard-striped folding camping chair.

“Hey, Pop!” you greeted with a smile. 

His straw cowboy hat was on, looking over his shoulder with a grin. “Hola, mis hijos (Hello, my children).”

Quickly, you were setting down the things you held near Chucho’s stuff. “Do you need help with that?” you asked. 

“Yeah, Pop, let us help,” Javi added as you took the bouquets from him to set on the ground with the rest, having to do it a few times to empty his arm, the grocery bags getting put with everything else. 

“No, no,” his dad, replied, waving away your offers with his free hand. “Me gusta hacer esto yo mismo (I like to do this myself). Lo he hecho todos los años desde que ella ha estado aquí y seguiré haciéndolo hasta que me una a ella—casi he terminado (I’ve done it every year since she’s been here and I will continue to do so until I join her—I’m almost done).”

The engraved inscription on the gravestone was something you’d memorized over the half dozen times you’d visited here. 

Antonia López Peña 

November 17, 1937 - January 31, 1991

Beloved Wife, Loving Mother, Greatly Loved, and Sadly Missed

A couple of days after watching the home movie of his mom making tamales, Javi brought you to the cemetery for the first time to introduce you to her. He admitted that before then, he wasn’t able to bring himself to visit her in all of the time he’d been back and that the last time he was there was the day she was buried—it was too hard for him. 

With you joining him, he’d finally been able to go, taking beautiful white lilies to put upon her grave and giving Javi space while he talked to his mom through his tears, telling her about how happy and in love he was. He had turned to grab your hand and got you to stand next to him, while he introduced you to her, and it was your turn to speak with wet eyes, thanking her for bringing your media naranja (soulmate) into the world and raising such an incredible man, promising to love him and treat him right for the rest of your lives. 

After that, you’d been back a handful of times with either Javi or him and his dad, having family picnics or bringing her flowers. 

“If you’re sure, Chucho,” you replied. “Don’t think I forgot about you saying your knees were aching Saturday at the tamalada.” 

The family had gotten together to make tamales for the holiday. 

The older man chuckled. “I love you, too—you worry about me too much, Mija. I promise I’m okay. This is worth the pain, but the two of you will do all the decorating while I sit in my chair.” 

You smiled. “To oversee us?” 

He grinned. “Sí, tiene que ser perfecto (Yes, it has to be perfect).” 

“Yes, it does,” you agreed. 

“We’ll take care of it, Pop,” Javi said. 

“¿Cómo estuvo su día (How was your day)?” Chucho questioned you both, going back to cleaning. 

Your eyes went wide thinking about what had happened earlier in the kitchen, glancing over at Javi, who met your gaze with a smirk, clearly thinking the same as you. 

“Pretty fucking frustrating,” he said, staring you down, and it made you playfully punch his arm, mouthing, ‘You asshole,’ while he looked beyond amused. 

“His work,” you added, attempting the save and glaring at your boyfriend, who snorted, clearly trying to keep from laughing. “He had a really frustrating day at work, you know how it is, but we both got off early to get all the stuff done.”

“We did get off early,” Javi said, your mouth falling open that he’d say that in front of his dad. 

Pinching his side, you continued, “Needed to in order to get the stew ready in time.”

Suddenly, Javi was on you, keeping you against him while his fingers tickled you, squealing his name as you struggled to break away from him, annoyed that he was getting the spots on your sides he knew were super sensitive. 

You were laughing and writhing in his hold, batting at his chest. 

“Stop!” you giggled. “This is so rude.” 

Following your order, he hugged you to him, slotting his lips against yours in a kiss he was smiling into.  

“Dios mío (My god),” Chucho said in exasperation, a groan escaping him as he stood back up. “Son peores que nosotros, mi amor (They’re worse than us, my love). No los puedo llevar a ningún lado  (I can’t take them anywhere),” he chuckled. “Esto debe ser nuestro castigo por cómo actuamos cuando éramos adolescentes (This must be our punishment for how we acted as teenagers). Ahora entiendo por qué tu hermano mayor siempre estaba molesto con nosotros (Now i understand why your older brother was always annoyed with us).”

Javi’s tongue slipped between your lips, your fingers clawing at his shirt. 

“¡Por favor (Come on)!” Chucho exclaimed. “Nada de eso aquí (None of that here). Se que te hemos educado mejor que esto, Javier (I know we raised you better than that, Javier).”

The two of you practically jumped apart at being scolded, Javi’s cheeks pinking up, his reddened lips turned down in a frown, and glistening under the sun’s rays. 

“Lo siento, Pop (I’m sorry, Pop),” he said, scratching at the back of his neck while turning his head toward his dad. “I forgot myself.” 

“You’re always forgetting yourself around her.” Chucho sighed wistfully. “To be young and in love again.” He smiled. “Your mother always had me forgetting myself, too, but let’s not do that here with all the niños (kids) running around, okay?” 

It was then you registered the other people in the cemetery—a bunch of different families with children running around, some decorating graves, others eating food or sipping on drinks, seeing members of Javi’s family amongst them.

Javi grimaced. “Yes, Pop. Sorry,” he sighed. 

You felt bad, adding, “We understand and won’t let it happen again. We’re sorry.”

The older man walked close to you both, clapping his hands onto each of your shoulders, looking between you. 

“It’s okay,” Chucho said. “I’m just happy you’re here with me tonight—means a lot.” 

“Like we’d miss it, Pop,” Javi replied.

His dad frowned. “You missed last year, Mijo, and you’d been in South America for so long. You haven’t celebrated Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) since the first time you left Laredo—I know it’s hard for you to come here.” 

Your boyfriend’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. 

“It’s… easier coming here, now,” he said, looking at you. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” 

A small smile appeared on Chucho’s face, his hand squeezing your boyfriend’s shoulder. “I’m glad to hear that, Javi. I know tu mamá (your mom) would be happy you’re here. Do you remember how we’d decorate tus bisabuelos (your great grandparents) graves when we’d go visit your mom’s family in Mexico?” 

“Kinda?” he answered. “All the cempasúchil (marigolds), some pictures, candles, and we always brought their favorite food to eat, and mi mamá (my mom) and you would have the mezcal bisabuelo (great grandpa) liked.” 

“Sí (Yes),” Chucho replied, nodding. “It will be the same with your mother’s; I just add a little extra.” His attention turned to you with a big smile. “And she’ll love that you made her favorite foods! Thank you for doing it, Mija.” His face went solemn. “After mi Antonia passed, my sisters took over decorating our parents' graves, so I could focus on my wife’s, and since I’m not a cook like her or you,” his hand squeezed your shoulder, “I’d bring food from her favorite restaurant to eat with her. I’m happy we’ll have the things she loved making herself tonight—feels really special.”

“I was happy to do it, Chucho—for you and Antonia. I just hope it all turned out well.” 

He smiled. “It did. I have no doubt. Now, I’m going to sit down, and it has nothing to do with my knees.” 

You laughed. “I’m surrounded by a bunch of lying liars who lie! Go sit down—” You shooed him away. “—we’ll take care of everything. Just tell us if we’re doing something wrong.” 

The older man chuckled as he went back over to where all the stuff and his camping chair were, making a pained sound as he bent down to get into the tote bag to pull out a small handheld radio. Since he was already bending, he popped open the top of the cooler to grab a cold bottle of beer before taking his seat. His drink was put into the built-in cup holder while he turned on the little device hearing static, then quick snippets of songs or people speaking, until it landed on the channel he was looking for, music from his wife’s favorite Spanish station filling the air. 

Javi took a step toward you, his head getting closer, knowing he was coming in for a kiss, and you dodged it, him pulling back with a look of betrayal on his face.

“No,” you said, pushing on his chest. “I’m not getting in trouble again.” His eyes rounded, looking sad, and it made your heart hurt. You groaned. “Not the eyes! You know I’m weak against the eyes!”

Chucho was laughing. “He gets them from his mamá! Javi o mi Antonia me miraban con esos ojos grandes y marrones, y yo nunca podía decirles que no (Javi or my Antonia would look at me with those big, brown eyes and I could never say no).”

“Son peligrosos (They’re dangerous),” you replied. Speaking to Javi, you said, “Sé que puedes esperar un beso (I know you can wait a kiss).”

His lips were turned down in a deep frown. “Sé que puedes esperar por un beso (I know you can wait for a kiss),” he corrected. “Y no (And no)—” He shook his head. “—no puedo (No, I can’t).” You wouldn’t have been surprised if he stomped his foot, which had you holding back a smile. “Necesito un beso ahora mismo y estoy molesto porque no me vas a dar uno. (I need a kiss right now, and I’m upset because you won’t give me one).” He grabbed your hands, holding them over his heart. “Me estás volviendo loco (You’re driving me crazy). Solo un beso (Only one kiss). Bésame, por favor (Kiss me, please). ” 

“¿Siempre es así, tan malcriado (Is he always like this, so…)?” Chucho amusedly asked.

“What does the last word mean?” you asked.

“Spoiled,” Javi answered, the man pouting. 

You laughed. “Yes, he’s muy malcriado (very spoiled) and gets super dramatic when I won’t kiss him—acts like it’s the end of the world.” 

Your boyfriend loudly sighed, muttering, “I just want one kiss.”

Your eyebrow rose. “Uh huh, just one? You don’t have the self-control for just one.” 

His face pinched in annoyance. “Yes, I fucking do.” 

“Okay, prove it. One kiss—” You held up a single finger. “One PG-rated, won’t-have-your-dad-yelling-at-us-again kiss, and that’s it until we finish decorating.” 

“Fine.” 

“Deal. Lay it on me, babe.” As always, the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, grabbing a fistful of the cotton just below them to tug him toward you to crush your mouth against his in a somewhat chaste kiss. You felt his lips tip up after a few seconds, his arms wrapping around you to hold your body flush against his, pressing his mouth harder to yours like he couldn’t get enough of you. 

When you felt like it had lasted long enough, you broke away, him chasing your lips with a dreamy smile, and his eyes closed like a lovesick fool. 

“God, you’re cute,” you said, pushing his bangs off his forehead. Leaning forward, you kissed the tip of his nose, his eyelids blinking open when you finished, moving his head forward enough to nuzzle your nose with his. “Feel better?” you asked, unable to keep from smiling. 

He separated from you to meet your gaze. “Yeah.” His hands moved down to your hips, giving them a squeeze. “We better hurry up and decorate before I need another.” He ended the sentence with a wink. 

“You’re ridiculous,” you giggled. “Okay—” You stepped away from him toward the bags. “What do we start with?” 

“Pictures,” Chucho answered. “They’re in that bag.” He pointed at the tote. 

Bending at the waist, you dug into where he indicated, finding two photos, bordered in ornate golden frames, that you carefully took out, one then the other, Javi ending up beside you as you straightened, holding them in each of your hands. 

The first you’d seen before hanging on the wall in Chucho’s living room of him and Antonia at twenty-something years old with Javi as a smiling toddler in her arms standing beneath the ‘Peña Ranch’ sign at the driveway entrance. This was the first picture you’d seen of your boyfriend’s beautiful mother, easily spotting the similarities between him and her—same eyes, nose, and chin. 

At the ranch house, you’d marveled at every photo hanging on the wall, and sitting upon tables, or stuck in albums, yet this second picture of Antonia was new to you. It was in color, and she was much older than in the other, slivers of silver hair amongst the same colored brown as Javi’s, standing in front of her cowboy-hatless husband. She wore a lovely cornflower blue dress, his arms around her middle, kissing the side of her head with her eyes closed, smiling delightedly in a way you just knew she was giggling at his antics. The thing that made your eyes get misty and the corners of your lips lift was how clearly in love they were, something that had never changed through the decades of photos you’d seen of them, knowing without a doubt it was a glimpse into your own future. 

“That was taken on our 35th anniversary, not too long before she passed,” Chucho’s voice was even and soothing. “I keep it on the table beside my bed to see her smiling face first thing every morning.” Javi hugged you from the side, kissing your hair, feeling your eyes burn with unshed tears. “Don’t cry, Mija. This is a happy day where the ones we’ve lost come back to us for the night, and we celebrate them—there’s nothing to be sad about.” 

You sniffed. “I’m not sad,” you replied, voice a little wobbly. “I promise they’re happy tears at the love you shared and how I can see us like this.” You finished the sentence by raising the photo. 

“Oh, yes.” He smiled softly. “You don’t know how happy it makes me to see so much of us in the two of you.” He pointed at you both. “How relieved I am that Javi finally found his media naranja (soulmate).” His eyes were starting to shine, having to take off his glasses to wipe at them. “These are also happy tears,” he chuckled. “Mi amor (my love) would feel the same as me, and she’ll love having you here with us.” 

“I’m happy to be here—do you have a preference for where you want these to go?”

“Against the headstone is fine. Javi can get the candles you brought.”

Speaking of your boyfriend, he cleared his throat, his voice rough with emotion when he said, “Sure thing, Pop.” 

Turning your head, you kissed his cheek, Javi’s head moving so your lips met, accepting the tender kiss, knowing he needed the comfort, his arm tightening around you. After some seconds, you pulled away with a smile. 

“That was a bonus kiss because I love you.” 

He smiled big. “I love you, too, Cielito.” 

“Good. Now get the candles. Let’s get to decorating.” 

“Yes, mi alma (my soul).” 

With that, you made the short walk to gently lay the two photos against the middle of the grey stone, your boyfriend joining you to place down a Virgin Mary votive candle beside them and three smaller red-waxed candles—one by the larger candle, the remaining two on the opposite side, Javi lighting them with a lighter from his pocket. Antonia’s resting place featured two flower vases dug into the ground in the middle, where you put bouquets of her roses, adding splashes of red, white, pink, and purple. 

Finally, it was time for the bright orange marigolds, Chucho coming prepared with scissors to cut off the blooms, which Javi decided to do while you laid them out on the ground. 

“We call those flor de muerto (flower of the dead),” Javi’s dad said as you placed the golden hues in neat rows a little wider than the headstone, the smell of them hanging in the air. “Their aroma attracts the souls of the dead, so they know where to go.” 

“They smell so good,” you replied. “And back at the house, the display you have in the entryway, that’s called an ofrenda (offering), right?” 

“Sí,” Chucho answered. “It’s an altar that most people put up for the holiday—I keep mine all year.” 

The long, thin, weathered oak table had a thick, woven runner on it in rainbow-colored, stripes, sitting below the framed pictures of his wife, along with other family members who had long been gone—parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles. Javi had told you who each person was, some photos in black and white, most in color, and you hadn’t known the table’s significance until you’d gone over for the tamalada Saturday, finding it decorated with bunches of cempasúchil (marigolds) in vases, brightly colored tissue paper cut into elaborate designs called papel picado (cut paper) hanging on the wall behind it, and an old clay pitcher adorned with hand-painted flowers. A plate contained pan de muerto (bread of the dead) shaped like a bun with crossbones on top and dusted in sugar and Antonia’s favorite pan dulce (sweet bread), a concha, that got its name from how it resembled a seashell. Skulls made from sugar were atop the tabletop, along with a bowl of oranges, apples, and mandarins, a bottle of tequila, and a variety of differently sized candles. 

The fiery blooms had been placed down to the first bouquet of roses, a pile of stems on the ground by Javi’s feet as he started to run out of flowers to cut. 

“You said the marigolds attract the souls of the dead,” you started, continuing your work, “do the other items have special meanings?”

“They do,” he replied. “The ofrenda (offering) honors our loved ones and has what they need to come here. We use pictures and their things to help them cross over and draw them home. The papel picado (cut paper) has holes for them to travel through so they can visit. Agua (water) to quench their thirst after such a long journey. The candles help guide them, and we put out the food as an offering for them to enjoy.” 

“I love that,” you said, putting down the last of the marigolds. “I also love how colorful everything is—it makes it feel so lively.” 

“Because it’s a celebration of their lives—a happy occasion.” 

“I can tell.” Dusting off the front of your dress, you got up to stand, Javi already putting the cut stems into an empty plastic bag to dispose of. “Is it time for food?” you asked. 

“Yes,” Chucho answered, nodding with a smile. 

Room was made beside his chair, where Javi spread out the picnic blanket, the basket put atop it. Delightfully, he sat down with his long legs crisscrossed, you sitting the same next to him with your dress fanning out around you. Two of the plastic bags held disposable bowls, plates, cups, and cutlery that your boyfriend got out as you emptied the basket—three large mason jars of stew, a dish piled with warm tamales under foil, a thermos, a bag of pan de muerto (bread of the dead) Javi picked up from Anna’s bakery, and a Tupperware container holding garnish (crumbled bacon, chopped onion, cilantro, lime wedges). 

It wasn’t entirely true that Javier hadn’t celebrated Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) since the first time he’d left Laredo. 

The apartments the government set up for him in Colombia were fully furnished and decorated, and he never bothered adding any personal touches. 

Until his mom died. 

Before returning to work after her funeral, he’d gone through one of his father’s many photo albums dedicated to her and taken two of the pictures—he had her rosary, and he needed more reminders as to what he lost while he’d been away and all of the time he’d never get back with the woman who meant the world to him. 

It was the guilt of how much he missed, wishing he had visited instead of exiling himself away in the southern hemisphere in shame. 

He needed the sacrifices he made to mean something, he needed to finish the job, and with her death, he was determined to do whatever it took to get it done—anything. Desperation had him doing the fucked up shit that got him fired and sent home, and maybe it was self-flagellation that made him go back, wanting a second chance to do things right, make up for his mistakes, and do something his mom would be proud of. 

So, when he got back to South America after she passed, two framed photos found their place on a small table in his living room—one of him and her when he started college standing in front of the Texas A&M sign, the second of his mom and dad on their horses, Sombra and Caramelo. He’d gotten a colorful table runner with a similar Mexican serape-striped design, and he wasn’t religious, but a votive candle found its way with the pictures to honor her. Then at the end of October, a small vase of cempasúchil (marigolds) appeared, papel picado (cut paper) going on the wall, a glass of water on the tabletop next to a plate with a single roscón de bocadillo o guayaba (guava paste stuffed sweet bread) he thought she would’ve enjoyed. And, for some reason, it seemed like a good time to make his mom’s pozole; the recipe scribbled on the back of an old paystub and stuck to his fridge by a magnet of a bear wearing a top hat and playing a trumpet that he was pretty sure was already there when he moved in. 

A bowl of the soup went on the table with everything else in some kind of hope that his meager ofrenda (offering) would help her find her way back to him. Talking to her rosary a lot during that time, he recounted all of his favorite memories of her while listening to a record she loved and eating his pozole. He did his best to celebrate the life she lived without letting his grief get the better of him and wasn’t embarrassed to admit the first few years, he cried himself to sleep.

His tiny altar was kept up year-round, always setting it up when he got new accommodations and doing the same thing every Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) while away. 

When he came home, one of the pictures was taped to the mirror in his bedroom, and the other was kept in his wallet, unable to put them back in the album from which they came because he’d grown attached to them—they brought him peace, and he needed them close. The one of him and his mom was now framed and hanging on the living room wall at the apartment he shared with Cielito, surrounded by more photos of his parents. 

It broke his heart that the only picture of her family she put up was one of her grandparents; no one else from her side deserved to be up with the people they loved and who loved them. Thankfully, she had his family now, who he sometimes felt loved her more than him with how often they invited her to do things with them. He didn’t need more proof than when they’d go to his dad’s for her to cook one of his mom’s recipes, and Javier would be left at the house while the two of them went grocery shopping in his father’s precious Mustang—that he always let her drive.

It wasn’t fair, but with how much fun they had together, it made him happy. 

She fit in so well with them all, Javier realized it wasn’t blood that made you a family; it was the people you chose to love, and they’d chosen her, like how she chose them. 

The previous year, Pop had decorated the ofrenda (offering), and though Javier hadn’t gone to celebrate at the cemetery, he’d spent hours drinking alone and going through the many photo albums at the house—remembering the stories his parents had told him about each and every picture with a sad smile on his face and tears in his eyes. 

Things were different now; that lingering sadness that plagued him since her death was gone and replaced with comforting contentment at celebrating her with his father and the love of his life. 

He wanted Cielito to see what the holiday was all about and what it meant to him and his family, overjoyed at how eager she was to participate and help. The first time it was brought up, his dad had happily explained the tradition, and without missing a beat, she was asking what she could do, offering to make one of his mamá’s favorite dishes for them to have tonight—she didn’t even bat an eye at them spending their Monday evening amongst the living and peacefully dead. 

His heart felt like it’d explode from how fucking happy he was that she cared so much about him holding onto his heritage and family’s traditions—he could cry because she wanted their kids to grow up like he did; celebrating the same things, having loving, supportive parents, and raised bilingual. 

He couldn’t imagine Lorraine even wanting to acknowledge their child being half-Mexican and was pretty fucking sure she wouldn’t have wanted them to speak Spanish—knew for a fact she wouldn’t have come with him to celebrate Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead). 

And here was Cielito, the woman he was going to marry, pouring carne en su jugo (meat in its juices) she made into a bowl because his dad told her it was his mother’s favorite dish during the colder months. 

Javier was so in love with her it was taking a whole hell of a lot of self-control he really didn’t fucking have not to ask his dad for his mom’s ring right this second; four words were in the question that had started blaring in his head whenever he looked, talked, touched, or thought of her, and he was truly getting worried it was going to come out on accident—he bit his tongue so fucking hard to stop himself from asking it when she said she’d make the food for tonight, it bled. 

She didn’t have to tell him to put the toppings on the stew, having already opened the Tupperware and gladly accepting the first bowl he started garnishing. 

“¿Jugo de limón, Pop (Lime juice, Pop)?” he asked. 

“Sí (Yes). Más limón, por favor (Extra lime, please).”

“Está bien (Okay),” he replied, squeezing one slice of lime, then two, and tossing the rinds into a plastic bag he’d designated for trash. “Aquí tienes (Here you go).” 

“Gracias, Mijo (Thank you, my son).” His dad took the offered paper bowl and plastic spoon Javier had grabbed for him. “A tu mamá le encantaba preparar esto cuando hacía frío (Your mom loved to make this when it was cold),” Chucho said, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply. “En invierno, era su comida favorita (In winter, it was her favorite food).” 

“I remember.” He finished garnishing another bowl, setting it in front of him on the blanket, and taking the next from his amor (love). “She always made caldo de pollo during the hottest month in summer.” He turned his head toward Cielito. “Caldo is a soup with whole pieces of chicken—drumsticks, thighs, breasts, and vegetables, but not like that Campbell’s Chunky Chicken Noodle shit. It has potato halves, whole leaves of cabbage, thick slices of carrot, celery, uh—“

“Those beans,” Chucho added, pointing his spoon at him. “Garbanzo beans, corn, cilantro, and onion—I liked to add hot sauce to mine.”

“So, good fuckin’ chicken soup?” she asked with a grin. 

Javier matched her look, nodding his head. “Good fuckin’ chicken soup.”

His dad took a bite of his food, humming appreciatively. “It’s good, Mija,” he said after swallowing. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.” She visibly relaxed. “Javi, remember when you were away at college, the first year, I think, and you got that cold?” 

Looking at his dad, he nodded his head. “Yeah, it was freshman year,” he answered, holding another bowl. Glancing at her beside him, he asked, “Baby, do you want everything on yours?”

“Yes, please,” she replied. 

Carefully, he leaned over to kiss her shoulder. “You got it, mi amor (my love).” Going back to putting the toppings on her soup, he continued talking. “During freshman year, I got a cold. Keep in mind this was the first time I’d been away from home for an extended period of time, and I made the biggest fucking mistake of telling mi mamá I ate some canned chicken noodle soup—” 

Chucho interrupted, laughing, “The condensed kind! Sin vegetales (Without vegetables). Mi Antonia was beside herself—made caldo and had me drive her the five hours to deliver it the next day!” 

Javier had a fond smile on his face at remembering the frantic knocking on his dorm room door and being shocked to find his mom and dad on the other side, her barging in and fretting over him. “Yeah—” He discarded the used lime rind into the trash bag and set Cielito’s bowl down in front of him, taking the last one from her. “—she even brought bibaporrú, that’s the vapor rub stuff, you know, Vick’s? Bibaporrú and caldo were her cures whenever we got sick.” A memory came to him. “When I was little and had to stay home ‘cause I wasn’t feeling good, she’d put the vapor rub on me, have me eat the soup, and then I’d lay on the couch with my head in her lap. She’d play with my hair and softly sing until I fell asleep, and I’d always wake up in my bed.” He’d finished putting the garnish on his bowl, setting it down with the other two in front of him. 

Arms wrapped around him from the side, Cielito squeezing him tightly against her body. 

“Your mom loved you so much,” she said, kissing his cheek. 

He rubbed her arm locked over his chest, his head moving to kiss her, saying into her lips, “I know.” He told himself he wouldn’t cry tonight, trying to ignore the tightness in his throat and pulling away, his eyes on hers. “Eat your soup, baby—you worked so hard on it.” 

“Okay.” She let go of him to grab her bowl, Javier handing her a spoon. 

He picked up one of the soups and leaned forward, reaching as far as he could to set it on top of the marigolds for his mom before picking up his own and digging in. 

The flavors hit his tongue, and he groaned happily, the broth rich and flavorful from the steak simmering in its own juices and the tomatillo mix for so long with a little bit of spice from the serrano peppers. It was delicious and so similar to what his mom used to make, taking him back to days growing up when it was so cold she wouldn’t let him leave the house without a sweater and beanie to keep his ears warm—on the walk home from the bus stop, he couldn’t wait to have the carne en su jugo to heat himself up, knowing, without a doubt, it’d be waiting for him and his dad, along with a bowl of freshly cut fruit. 

“It’s so fucking good,” he said once he swallowed his spoonful, quickly taking another. 

“You like it?” she asked. 

“Mhmm.” He nodded with his mouth full, saying when he could, “Love it. You made it perfectly, Cielito—such a good job.” 

His dad’s bowl was almost empty, and he leaned over his armrest to open the cooler to pass them both cold beers. Javier set his soup down to twist off the cap, it cool and refreshing when he took a long pull. The glass bottle went into the space between his crossed legs, Cielito setting hers atop the blanket as she ate her food. 

There wasn’t much talking with their mouths occupied, finishing his stew in record time, throwing away the bowl and spoon, along with his father’s trash. 

“Tamales, Pop?” he asked, pulling off the shiny foil covering them. 

“I’d love a couple—¿hiciste chocolate caliente (did you make hot chocolate)?”

“Sí (Yes),” he answered, putting two warm red chile pork tamales onto a paper plate and passing them to Chucho. “¿Quieres una taza (Do you want a cup)? Es la receta de mi mamá (It’s my mom’s recipe).” 

When he was younger, and they’d go to the graveyard in Mexico to celebrate, his mother always brought hot chocolate to keep them warm when the sun set, and the temperature dropped. Her recipe was similar to traditional hot chocolate you’d make on the stove with milk, unsweetened cocoa powder, and granulated sugar—hers just also included some cinnamon, vanilla, and a pinch of chili powder. 

“No, no,” he waved away the question with his free hand. “Esperaré a que se enfríe (I’ll wait for it to get colder).” 

“Está bien (Okay).” He made another plate with one tamale he set next to the full bowl of stew over the golden petals, then served himself three. “I didn’t even need her recipe card,” he said. “It’s one I memorized a long time ago—liked to make it when it got cold in Colombia.” 

“Did you make a lot of her recipes while you were down there?” Cielito asked, her bowl finally finished and ending up on the ground in front of her.

He’d unwrapped the corn husk from one of his tamales, putting his disposable dish beside him on the blanket to ensure he served her.

“How many?” he asked Cielito, holding an empty paper plate. 

“Um, two,” she answered. He piled them on, then handed it to her.

“Thank you, babe.” She came in for a kiss that he happily reciprocated, all short and sweet. 

“You’re welcome, baby,” he said when they broke apart with a smile, picking up his tamales again. “Your question: No.” 

“Ate out a lot?”

“Yeah, or Connie fed me.” He held a tamale, taking a bite, his eyes closing at how good it was—they tasted like home and when things were simpler, but he was happy he got to eat them now, with the person who owned his heart. 

Almost half of their freezer was filled with tamales, and he was very pleased about it.

Swallowing, his head turned toward her, meeting her eyes as he continued, “With my mom, she’d give me the ingredients and instructions, and we’d cook. I never learned how to tell if fruits or vegetables were good at the grocery store ‘cause she always gave them to me—which wasn’t her fault. I don’t think it ever crossed her mind, and I never thought to ask.” He shrugged. An amused breath left his nose, a smile curling up on his lips. “She also never told me measurements either. The hot chocolate, I can wing, but when I was gone and wanted pozole? I had to call her for the recipe from her card.”

“No radishes, right?” She smiled. 

He chuckled. “Yeah, no radishes. I didn’t make many of her recipes because I had no fucking clue how to get most of the ingredients and didn’t want to ask anyone for help.” 

“‘Cause you, my love, are very stubborn—” She bounced her shoulder gently against his. “—and if I hadn’t helped you find a good tomato, you would’ve forced yourself to eat a lousy BLT.” 

He frowned, sighing, “Yeah…” 

“You know what, though?” 

“What?” 

“You’re an expert produce picker now and make her recipes all the time, and I know she’d be happy you do.” Her face came close, pecking him on the lips. 

“She’s right, Mijo,” his dad interjected. “Tu mamá (your mom) would love you making her food.”

It warmed his heart to hear them say that, his eyes beginning to burn, so he distracted himself by taking a big mouthful of his tamale, everyone else doing the same. 

Music from the little radio was playing, hearing children's screams as they played, and people talking and laughing in the distance. 

His dad finished eating. “Barriga llena, corazón contento (Full belly, happy heart),” Chucho told them, patting his stomach happily. He groaned as he bent over to get a napkin out of a bag to wipe his hands and face. “That was delicious,” he said, his garbage getting set down by his feet. “You outdid yourself, Mija.” 

“Thank you,” she replied, her plate also empty. Javi was done and gathered all of their garbage to put in the trash bag. “How late do we hang out here?” she asked. 

“As late as you want,” his dad said. “Some people stay until midnight. Others with kids leave earlier.” 

“Remember what mi mamá would always say when I’d go out?” he asked Chucho, thinking about the words he’d hear every time he left the house for the evening.

“No podré dormir si estás fuera toda la noche (I won’t be able to sleep if you’re out all night).” 

Javier smiled. “Yeah, and I’d always be home before midnight, and you guys were already asleep.” 

They laughed. 

“I promise she was worrying about you when she’d go to bed,” his dad said. 

“Sure, she was,” he replied, taking a sip of his beer. 

“She was.” His dad nodded. “She’d toss and turn and finally get up at about one in the morning to make sure you were home and come back to bed. She’d sleep like a baby when you were safe at home.” 

His stomach plummeted. “What, uh—” He scratched at the back of his head. “—what about when I was gone…?” he asked softly. 

A somber look came over Chucho’s face. “She couldn’t sleep until she prayed for you, and the days she talked to you and could hear your voice, she slept best.” 

He remembered while he was in South America, she ended every phone call with, ‘Te amo, mi nene—que Dios y la virgencita te acompañen y todo salga de la mejor manera (I love you, my baby boy—may god and the Virgin Mary guide you and everything goes in the best way possible).’ Her praying for him nightly didn’t surprise him. It was the fact she couldn’t sleep until she did, and he felt awful for putting her through that, his eyes starting to water.

Cielito’s hand rubbed circles against his spine, resting her head on his shoulder. His arm went behind her back, the other around her middle, hugging her tightly while kissing her hair, holding her, soothing the twinge of remorse he was feeling. 

“Javi,” his dad said to get his attention, turning his head to meet the other man’s eyes. “She was proud of you, Mijo, and knew you were doing good work—she’d tell anyone who’d listen that her son was going to catch Pablo Escobar and look at all you did; all the good. Sure, you made some mistakes and did things you shouldn’t have, but in the end, you helped make the world better, and I can tell you your mom would be proud of you and all you’ve done.” A tear rolled down Javier’s cheek, having to clear his throat. “You know your mother was a pious woman,” Chucho continued. “She found comfort in praying for your safety every night and lighting a candle for you at Mass—she just wanted to keep you safe in God’s light and knew you wouldn’t pray for yourself. She loved you more than anything, Mijo, and needed to make sure you’d make it back home to us.” 

Another teardrop fell. 

“I was too late,” he croaked out, thinking about how she was on her deathbed when he finally returned. Cielito wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. 

“For her, it was perfect timing—she got to see her nene precioso (precious baby boy) before leaving this world, and that was the greatest gift you could have given her, being the last face she saw and knowing you were safe.” His dad’s eyes were getting wet, him sniffling as he took off his glasses to wipe at them. “Now, this is supposed to be a happy day, and we can’t be sad. You should go see your tías (aunts) and tío (uncle)—your primo (cousin) Sebastián is back from Dallas, and you can finally introduce her to him.” He nodded at Cielito. 

Sebastián was his tío Ángel’s eldest son.

He let go of his wif—girlfriend as she sat up beside him and got him to turn his head toward her. He smiled when she fussed over him by wiping away his tears with her thumbs and pushing his bangs off his face.

“Are you feeling okay?” she softly asked him. 

“Yeah,” he answered, his voice a little rough. 

“Okay.” She nodded. “I know what will cheer you up even more.” 

His eyebrows dipped together. “What?” 

Her voice went lower, trying to mimic his as she dramatically said, “Necesito que me beses ahora mismo (I need you to kiss me right now). No puedo vivir sin tus besos (I can’t live without your kisses). No puedo respirar sin tus besos (I can’t breathe without your kisses). Bésame, mi amor (Kiss me, my love). Por Favor (Please).” She puckered her lips, closing her eyes.

Air escaped his nose, smiling big.

“No sueno así (I don’t sound like that)!” he laughed. “Eres tan linda y te amo mucho (You are so cute, and I love you a lot).” His hand cradled her jaw, moving closer to her. “Puedes tener tantos besos como quieras, mi amor (You can have as many kisses as you want, my love).” He pressed his mouth to hers hard, kissing her so tenderly it felt like he was melting into her. 

She had him feeling better, knowing his dad was right and that this was a happy day, and they shouldn’t be dwelling on the sadness—they were here to celebrate his mom and their other family members who were no longer with them. 

Seconds passed, and they were separating, both smiling at each other. 

“Let’s go see everyone,” he said. 

“Okay,” she replied. “This Sebastián, how old is he?” 

That was a good question, Javier wracking his brain to try and remember. “Maybe early thirties?” 

“Mhmm.” There was an inquisitive look on her face. “All of your male cousins in Laredo are either—” She held up a finger. “—married—” Another finger went up. “—in a serious relationship—” A third finger joined the other two. “—or are too young. I don’t know anything about this Sebastián. Is he… single?” 

“What?” He looked at her funny. 

Why did she want to know?

“Don’t look at me like that, Javier! You know I’m not asking for me!” 

His eyes squinted. “Then who…?”

“Robyn!” She threw up her hands. “We’ve struck out on setting her up with any of your Laredo primos (cousins), and now a new Peña has appeared! Give me the deets, babe. Is he single? Is he into women? What’s his star sign? Is he cute—that’s actually a dumb question because all of your cousins are hot! Like no wonder they’re all married or in serious relationships and having a ton of babies. Sexy is apparently one of the attributes of the Peña genes.” 

His dad was laughing, Javier’s cheeks heating. 

He cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m sorry, baby, but Seb is married.” 

“Damn.” She visibly deflated, shaking her head.

“No, he’s not,” Chucho piped up, both of them looking over at him. “He got divorced last year—that’s why he’s back here. He needed a change.” 

“Bachelor number one is back in the game!” Cielito exclaimed. “Oh my god, okay, so what’s he like?”

He was loving her excitement, smiling when he said, “We can go find him, and you can see?” His face fell. “But I thought you said Robyn met a guy she was into…?”

“Well, yeah, but this is a Peña, and she hasn’t stopped bugging us about finding her one of your cousins.” 

That was true. 

Just about every time she saw Javier, she asked if any of his primos (cousins) over thirty had become available and if this would get her off his ass…

“Let’s go find him, Cielito.” He kissed her quickly, then grabbed his beer from between his legs, chugging the little bit that remained, her doing the same, the empty bottles getting set with the rest of the trash.

Groaning as he got up from the slight ache in his lower back and knees, he put his arms out to his wife—girlfriend once standing. He frowned, helping to pull her up onto her feet. 

She smoothed her palms down her dress. 

“Do I look okay?” she asked, checking herself for any wrinkles in the fabric. 

“You look more than okay, hermosa (beautiful),” he answered, taking her hands into his and bringing them up to hold against his chest, their gazes meeting. “You’re fucking gorgeous, and I love that you got this dress for tonight—it’s perfect, and mi mamá would love it.” 

The dress had been a surprise, and when she came out of their shared bathroom wearing it, he’d forgotten how to breathe—she looked beyond beautiful, and it dazed him, not believing she’d chosen him to spend the rest of her life with. 

Basically, Javier found himself falling even more in love with her from all of the thought she’d put into honoring his mother—the dress, the food, and celebrating with his family. Head over heels wasn’t accurate to how he felt; he was completely head over ass, so gone on her, he’d do anything for her, anything, and that included protecting her, too. He’d die for her. He’d kill for her. She was the air he breathed and the blood that kept his heart pumping; she was his life and the most important person in the world to him, and she chose him. 

“El tiene razón (He’s right),” his dad added. “Te ves bonita con ese vestido, Mija (You look beautiful in that dress, Mija).” 

She shyly looked away from them. “Thank you,” she replied. 

His hand went to her jaw, making her look at him as he smiled warmly. 

“None of that,” he said, knowing she was doubting the truth of their words. “I’m being completely honest, Pop is, too, and I wish so fucking bad you could see how I see you.” His thumb stroked over her bottom lip. “How beautiful you are, how incredible—god, I love you so fucking much.” 

His lips took the place of his thumb, his arm going behind her back to pull her into him, trying to make her feel the love he felt for her in his kiss—her fingers slid into the short-cropped hair on the back of his head, Javier shivering when she lovingly dragged her nails along his nape. 

“Estos dos están pegados por completo, Antonia (These two are completely stuck together, Antonia),” he heard his dad say. “Tú verás que en cualquier momento, nos van hacer abuelos (You watch, any minute now they’re going to make us grandparents).”

Cielito snorted, breaking away from him, while Javier sighed, pressing his forehead to hers and rubbing his hands up and down her spine. 

“Pop,” he groaned. “Me abochornas (You’re embarrassing me).”

“¿Digo la verdad y te abochorna (I tell the truth and it embarasses you)?” Chucho asked. He clicked his tongue, dramatically continuing, “Es la maldición de los padres (It’s the parental curse).” 

Javier turned his head, finding his dad sitting there with a shit-eating grin under his cowboy hat and a hand over his chest. 

He rolled his eyes, ready to go. 

“Nos vamos ahora (We’re leaving now),” he said, taking his girlfriend’s hand. “Quédate aquí con mi mamá y cuéntale cómo sigues molestándonos para que te den nietos (Stay here with my mom and tell her about how you keep pestering us to give you grandchildren).” 

“Oh, tu mamá sabe (Oh, your mom knows).” He waved away Javier’s words. “Hablando de mis futuros nietos, tambien un día disfrutarás avergonzándolos (Speaking of my future grandkids, one day you will also enjoy embarrassing them). ¿Sabes por qué (Do you know why)?” 

“¿Por qué, Pop (Why, Pop)?”

“Porque serás un padre increíble como yo y amarás a tus hijos más que a nada (Because you will be an amazing father like me and love your kids more than anything).” 

Javier’s breath caught in his throat. 

Emotion had his voice going gravelly. “Espero ser un gran padre como tú (I hope I will be a great dad like you).” 

“Sé que lo harás (I know you will). Te amo, Javiercito (I love you, Javier). Ahora, ve a ver al resto de la familia (Now, go see the rest of the family).” 

“Está bien (Okay). Estaremos de vuelta pronto (We will be back soon).”

“No voy a irme a ninguna parte (I am not going anywhere).”

That was something Javier knew without a doubt and could always count on—both of his parents were there for him, and no matter the mistakes he’d made, it had never caused them to love him any less. On the rough days in Colombia, there was always the thought in the back of his mind to just give up and go home to them, knowing they would’ve welcomed him with open arms. He’d kept going, though, the ranch a last resort, and when he was sent back to Texas after he horribly fucked up, all his dad asked was when he needed to pick him up from the airport, there was no question that he was coming back to the house for however long he wanted to be there. 

Chucho wasn’t going anywhere for the time being, and Javier knew that, planning to plant his roots in Laredo and grow his family here, wanting to stay as close as possible to his dad and the place where his mother was resting. 

He nodded at his father, leading Cielito away. 

“So,” she started. “Who’s all buried here?”

He slowed down to have them walking next to each other, their hands linked, glancing over at her through his sunglasses as he answered, “My mom and my paternal abuelos (grandparents). My mother’s family is back in Mexico—her parents and my tío (uncle) are still alive down there, but I haven’t seen them since, fuck, her funeral? They all moved back after she married my dad, and we’d visit them a few times a year when I was growing up.”

“Were your dad’s parents born in Mexico, too?” 

He smiled. “Yeah, but they immigrated here before they started having kids.”

“Good to know. Have you thought about visiting your mom’s family?” 

Frowning, he replied, “Maybe? Some of my uncle’s kids live here in the US, I’m just not sure where, and he visits my dad occasionally. It’d be nice to see my abuelos (grandparents)…” 

They were probably in their early eighties by now. 

She got closer to his side, hugging his arm to her as she looked him in the eyes with a smile. 

“Well, maybe we’ll just have to go visit them.” 

That had him sobering up and thinking about the job he’d been doing with the Sheriff. 

In the months he worked for Sheriff Arturo, the narcotics unit had managed to seize almost double the drugs and weapons than the entire previous year combined—not to mention all of the arrests they made. It was so substantial the DEA had set up an in-person meeting with him for that Friday, when up to this point, they’ve only communicated by phone. The agent in charge of Rio Grande Valley was a real prick, and Javier had hung up on him more than once, so he really wasn’t looking forward to sitting down with the guy.

He kept his promise to Cielito about only doing office work, spending the majority of his time reading over arrest reports and seizures, writing up analyses, and creating strategies for the narcotics team to use. With all of the pages he read, he felt like there was something he was missing, some kind of connection that wasn’t making itself known amongst all of the letters and numbers his eyes had scanned over—it was starting to bother the fuck out of him that he wasn’t getting any closer to figuring out where the drugs were coming from than when he began looking. 

“Maybe,” he said distractedly. Changing the subject, he continued, pointing ahead of them with his free hand, “Looks like tío Ángel is with my tías and tíos—Sebastián must be close by.” 

His abuelos had a long, flat headstone that sat amongst the grass, with ‘Peña’ etched in the middle in large letters, and each of their names on either side where they were buried, along with their dates of birth and death. 

The second time he’d come here with his wif-girlfriend, his dad had been with them and showed them where his grandparents were since Javier wasn’t stateside when they passed.

He was ashamed to admit it, but when they died, he’d put his work before his family like he always fucking did—so focused on taking down the Cali cartel he didn’t even think about using any bereavement leave to come home for either of their funerals that were only months apart. At the time, his secretary sent flowers to the family with his condolences like the cold-hearted bastard he was who didn’t even bother calling his tías or tío. 

Looking back, he felt like shit for what his father must have gone through—in less than five years, Chucho lost his wife and both of his parents, his only son away on a completely different continent, barely remembering to pick up the phone for their monthly calls. 

Javier was a real piece of shit then and deserved the dressing down his tías gave him when he’d come back for good. Now, he had his head on straight, understanding that his family was the most important thing in his life, and he wouldn’t waste any more time with them.

His grandparents’ resting place was decorated similarly to his mother’s: marigold blooms were bordering the gravestone and surrounding a large framed photo of his abuelos that was propped up behind it along with two large vases of the flowers resting on the upper two corners of the stone. Candles were also on the hard surface, a couple of votives, the others plain red-waxed, and in the grass were ornaments that were just paper skulls on sticks. His tías had put down a colorful rectangular platter that they had set a bottle of his abuelo’s (grandfather’s) favorite tequila, two cups full of something he wasn’t sure of, and two plates filled with food—chicken legs and thighs covered in his abuela’s (grandmother’s) mole (moh-lay), a sauce made from blackened, burnt chiles, chocolate, and other ingredients Javier couldn’t remember; There was also arroz rojo (red rice), frijoles (beans), and the tamales they made over the weekend.  

His tías Lupita and Rebeca were sitting on a large dark blue striped picnic blanket with a couple of their grandkids who were maybe five or six, his aunts' husbands sitting nearby in camping chairs. Tía María was on the other side of them in a chair next to her husband, another blanket on the ground by them where their eldest son, Danny, was sitting with his wife and two kids—a four- and two-year-old, with another on the way. Everyone was eating except his tío Ángel who was standing and nursing a beer, his youngest son Diego, who was in his late-twenties, next to him, scooping food into his mouth from a paper plate while they all happily chatted between bites.

His tía María spotted them first. 

“Javi está aquí y trajo a nuestra Chula (Javi’s here and he brought our Cutie).”  

All of them looked in their direction with smiles and greetings as they approached. 

“Hola (Hi),” he said. 

“Hi!” Cielito greeted with a wave of her hand that wasn’t holding his. 

“Come eat with us,” tía Lupita ordered, moving to make them plates. 

He was pretty full from what they’d already eaten, sharing a look with his girlfriend, both knowing they’d have to eat some of it, unable to keep from sighing simultaneously.

Something you learned very quickly once being introduced to Javier’s extended family was you absolutely, under no circumstance, refused food you were offered—you’re not hungry? You’re full? You’re not sure it’s something you’ll like? It didn’t matter. You took what they gave you, thanked them, and ate as much as you could. 

Knowing how much time and effort went into making their dishes made it make sense and was honestly great, so you happily accepted the flimsy paper plate loaded with food, and a plastic fork, thanking tía Lupita. 

“How was the carne en su jugo?” Rebeca asked. 

“Almost exactly like mi mamá’s,” Javi proudly answered, picking at the food on his plate like you were and taking small bites. 

“Bueno (Good)!” 

María addressed you, “You’ll come over next time we make our mamá’s mole, so you can learn.” 

“I’d love that,” you replied with a smile. “I’m assuming that’s what this sauce is?” You got some chicken with the mole on your fork to hold up and put it in your mouth. 

“Yes.” She nodded. “How do you like it?” 

Answering after swallowing, “It’s very good.” It was a little spicy, a little sweet, and had an earthiness to it that wasn’t bad, and you had no clue what was in it, assuming chiles, for sure. 

“The tamales are increíble (incredible),” Javier’s tío Ángel’s gruff voice said.

The first time you saw tío Ángel, you thought he wasn’t happy to meet you with how mad he looked. Turned out he just had the same grumpy resting face as Javi, which must make it genetic. His tío was actually really nice, even though he gave off ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibes, and it made sense why the asshole horse at the ranch, Enrique, only let him ride him. 

Javier’s tío hadn’t been at the tamalada since he was busy working on the ranch. 

“Thank you,” you replied. “I just followed Antonia’s recipe as best I could.” 

“Well, they turned out great.” He raised his beer to you. 

“¿Dónde está Sebastián (Where’s Sebastián)?” Javi asked. 

The rest of the group had gone back to talking amongst themselves.

“Está en la tumba de su abuelo con su madre, y su abuela (He is over at his grandfather’s grave with his mom, and grandma).” He pointed with his bottle in their direction.

“Sebastián llegó muy tarde (Sebastián arrived really late),” Diego said, disposing his empty plate into a black trash bag. 

Diego had long hair like his dad, but where his dad kept his pulled back in a ponytail, Diego let his gorgeous black locks fall down to his shoulders—he also had a smile that was absolutely contagious and radiated happiness. 

“¿Cuándo regresó a Laredo (When did he come back to Laredo)?” Javi inquired as he took a bite of some rice. 

“Llegó aquí el jueves, pero se fue todo el fin de semana (He got here on Thursday but he was gone all weekend).”

“¿Regresó a Dallas (Did he go back to Dallas)?” Javi’s eyebrows were knitted together. 

“No sé (I don’t know),” the younger man shrugged. “No nos dijo a dónde fue (He didn’t tell us where he went). El llegó tarde hoy y fresco de la ducha (He showed up late today and fresh from the shower).” A mischievous smile appeared on his face. “No creo que haya pasado el fin de semana solo (I don’t think he spent the weekend alone).” 

“¡Ay!” Ángel said. “Deja de chismear sobre tu hermano (Quit gossiping about your brother).”

“Hey,” Diego replied, putting up his hands in defense. “Es bueno para él seguir adelante (It’s good for him to move on).” 

That had you frowning, hoping he hadn’t met someone. 

Your head turned toward Javi. “I’d really like to meet this mystery cousin now—please introduce him to me.” 

His eyes met yours. “Yeah.” He nodded. “Okay.” Looking back at his tío Ángel, he pointed with his free hand in the direction his uncle said, “He’s over there?” he asked. “I haven’t seen him in a while. What’s he wearing?” 

“Yes, over there—” He pointed with his beer again. “—and he’s wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. Right, Mijo?” he asked his son. 

“Yes, papá (dad),” Diego answered. 

“Okay,” you replied. “On the lookout for a hot Peña in a black shirt and jeans—let’s go, babe!” Holding your plate in one hand, your other grabbed Javi’s arm as you started pulling him where you needed to go. 

Out of earshot of his family, you looked over your shoulder at him, “Hopefully he didn’t fall in love over the weekend. I wish we would’ve known there was an eligible Peña so we could’ve set him up with Robyn on a blind date or something.” 

Javi snorted. 

“You really think Robyn would agree to a blind date?” 

You thought about it for a second. 

“Yeah, I think she would, just for the fun of it.” 

He slowed down, dragging his feet to make you finally stop walking. 

“Cielito?” 

Confusion was on your face as you turned toward him. “Yes, Javi?” 

It looked like he was really choosing his words carefully. 

“I don’t want you to get your hopes up that we’ll somehow get them together…” he said the sentence gently. “You said in the car Robyn met a guy she actually liked, and with my primo being divorced, we don’t know if he’s even looking for anyone—divorce can fuck people up.” He sighed. “What I’m trying to say is please don’t be upset if this doesn’t work out the way you want.” 

“Oh.” It felt like your stomach dropped down to the ground. “You’re right—we can’t force people together. But—” You smiled. “—we can test the waters, you know? See where your cousin’s at post-divorce. Like, is he just going through rebounds? Has he sworn off women? Is he ready to date again? We’ll just see how he’s doing and go from there.” 

He sighed, his eyes closing for a moment. “Okay, Cielito,” he replied, looking at you again. “We’ll test the waters.” 

“Thank you!” you squealed, moving into his space and being careful of the plates you were both holding to give him a kiss. When you pulled away, you grabbed his hand. “Let’s go find this elusive Peña!” you said, making him walk with you again. 

You were on the lookout as you passed other families around the graves of their loved ones and children playing with each other. The mood of the cemetery was upbeat and colorful from all of the marigolds and other decorations; some people including other flowers like purple orchids, pink carnations, white lilies, and chrysanthemums in various colors—music, laughter, talking, and children’s happy squeals could be heard as you continued walking down the row. 

Your eyes locked on a guy heading your way that matched Sebastián’s description, the unsuspecting man holding a beer bottle. 

Suddenly you stopped, Javi almost running into you. 

“Is that him?” you asked, letting go of his hand to point ahead. 

Your boyfriend’s eyes squinted. “Maybe…?” 

“I know this isn’t the time or place, but maybe we should look into getting you everyday glasses—and you can’t be upset about me suggesting it because you know how horny your reading glasses make me, so like, I just wouldn’t leave you alone.” 

You looked over at him to see he was frowning before it looked like he had a realization. 

“That’s… a good idea, but mi amor?”

“Yes, my sexy, hunky man who I love more than anything?” 

He snorted, his face getting close enough a shiver moved through you when his breath tickled your ear as he whispered, “You already don’t leave me alone, but I’m interested in seeing if the glasses really will make you wetter and needier for me—” His head moved abruptly, speaking louder, “¡Oye (Hey)! Seb!” 

The other man’s attention landed on you both, a smile turning up on his lips as he started walking faster. 

“¡Oye (Hey)! Primo!” he responded. 

Sebastián Peña was a little shorter than Javier, with a very defined jaw and cleft chin, his dark brown hair curly and cropped short to his head, his eyes a striking color of green, and as you assumed, he was very handsome. 

You could definitely see Robyn being into him. 

You watched as your boyfriend moved around you to hug his cousin carefully while holding his plate. 

“Hey, man,” Javi said when they separated. He patted Sebastián’s arm, smiling. “It’s been too long—did you get shorter?” 

His cousin laughed, and he had a good smile like his little brother. “No, pendejo (No, asshole),” he replied. “How’ve you been, Javi? I didn’t see you here last year.” 

“I, uh, had stuff going on, and I’m doing really fucking good. There’s someone I want you to meet.” He turned your way, grabbing your hand to pull you to stand next to him. "Primo, this is—“ He told him your name. “—y ella es mi esposa (and she is my wife).”

Your eyes rounded, Sebastián saying loudly, “¡¿Qué (What)?! Your wife?!”

The smile on your face was so big it made your cheeks hurt as Javi went red at realizing what he said, looking panicked. 

“Girlfriend!” he quickly corrected. “Ella es mi novia (She is my girlfriend).” 

“Actually,” you said, moving forward to hold out your free palm to Seb. “I’m his future wife—we’re basically pre-engaged, he’s just taking his sweet time to put a ring on it, and ‘wife’ is definitely a better descriptor than girlfriend.” You wrinkled your nose, Sebastián shaking your offered hand. 

“Oh, okay,” he said, releasing your palm. “Yeah, I knew Javi had a, uh, partner, and it’s nice to finally meet you.” He had a warm smile. “Mi familia (my family) has talked a lot about you and your cooking, especially the pork tamales you make like tía Antonia.” 

“Not as good,” you replied. “No one can top hers.” 

“Stop that,” Javi said, and you looked over to see him giving you a grumpy look. “She’s being modest—her tamales are fucking amazing, primo. You’ll love them.” 

“Well, enough about me,” you interjected. “So, Sebastián—”

“Call me Seb,” he interrupted, still smiling. “You’re family.” 

That had you feeling warm. 

Giving him the same look, you continued, “So, Seb, tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living? When’s your birthday? Are you seeing anyone?”

“You a cop, too?” he asked with an eyebrow raised. 

“Just call me future Mrs. Detective Peña,” you answered with a wink. “But not really, I just don’t know anything about you, and I am beyond curious.”

He nodded, then took a drink of his beer. 

“Firefighter,” he finally said when the bottle lowered. “October 27th, and I’m not answering the last question, but I’m sure you already heard I’m divorced.” There was a frown on his face.

“Yeah,” Javi replied, frowning, too. “Sorry to hear about that.” His arm went around your back to pull you into his side. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about—don’t want someone who can’t be faithful.” He took another swig of his drink. 

“Oh, he’s definitely a Scorpio,” you said under your breath.

“Why do you say that?” Javi whispered to you. 

“They’re super loyal,” you answered just as quietly. “And possessive—it’s why I know I’ve got nothing to worry about with you since it’s in your top three.” 

He scoffed. “Didn’t need the fucking stars to tell you that.” 

“They’re reassuring.” You spoke normally, “So, Seb, how was your weekend? Do anything titillating?” 

He sputtered as he choked on his beer, going into a coughing fit. 

“Shit!” You moved to pat on his back. “I am so sorry. You’re just as bad as your cousin. Sometimes I worry I’m gonna accidentally make Javi choke to death.” 

Your boyfriend sighed, putting his hand on his hip and his weight to one side. “You always choose to say things that will get a reaction when I’m mid-drink, and I think you do it on purpose.” 

“I do not! It’s just a coincidence.” 

His eyebrow arched. “Uh-huh.” 

“It is! Are you okay, Seb?” 

“Yeah,” he wheezed. “My weekend was great,” he said, giving you a thumbs up.

Moving back to stand beside Javi, you decided to just cut straight to the chase. “Seb, here’s the deal. I heard you got divorced last year, and I’m trying to figure out if you’re even interested in dating again or if it’s more of a ‘fuck the pain away’ situation, which, honestly, either would work because I have this best friend who is amazing, and I think the two of you would get along swimmingly.” 

“You barely know anything about me…” he pointed out. 

“All I need to know is you’re a Scorpio and extremely compatible with my best friend, who’s a Leo.” 

He looked at Javi. “What is she talking about…?” 

“Astrology,” your boyfriend answered. “She likes that star shit, and some of it is pretty fucking accurate.” 

Sebastián didn’t look convinced. 

“Anyways,” you cut in. “I know this great girl I’d love to introduce you to.” 

He grimaced. “I’m sorry, but I met someone.” 

“Oh.”

“It’s… new, but I think there’s something between us.” 

You forced a smile, trying not to let your disappointment show. Maybe Robyn wouldn’t mind a younger man like Diego to get that Peña she wants—he was an adorable guy, and you knew he was single.

“That’s great that you’re moving on from your ex,” you replied. “That’s a really big step. We know you’ve been super hush-hush about this mystery person, but do you want to tell us about them? We won’t say anything to the rest of your family if that’s what you wish—I just bet you’d love to talk about them since they’ve caught your attention.” 

There was a visible change as his face went soft, knowing he was thinking about them. 

“She’s perfect,” he said. “Beautiful, funny, not afraid to order me around, a fiery personality, you know?” He gestured to your boyfriend with the glass bottle he was holding. 

“Oh, I know, and it’s great,” Javi replied, pulling you closer to kiss the side of your head, feeling like you were melting from the sweetness. 

“Yeah, I can see that. This girl is small and feisty with the most gorgeous long hair and red lips. She’s mi...” he said a Spanish word you didn’t understand. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, frowning. 

“She’s his what?” you asked Javi, looking at him and finding his eyes wide and mouth gone slack, not understanding what would get that kind of reaction. Maybe it was like when Javi called you his wife or something, and that was what had him shook. Suddenly he was speaking rapid Spanish to his cousin, which you were having trouble keeping up with. 

“What’s going on, babe?” you asked him. 

He stopped talking, bringing up the hand he held his plate in to look at his silver wristwatch.

“Shit,” he said, meeting his cousin’s eyes again. “We gotta get back to Pop, but we’ll see you around.”

That was a dirty fucking lie, and now you were dying to know what in the world was going on.

His empty hand went to your back to usher you away, feeling confused and curious.

“Uh, nice to meet you, Seb!” you called back at him. “See you around!”  

“It was nice to meet you, Prima (Cousin)!” he replied. 

“What’s going on, Javier?” you hissed at your boyfriend, trying to keep up with his long, brisk strides. 

“Hold on.” He turned you guys, heading for the cemetery entrance, him tossing his plate and yours in a trash can as you left the grounds toward the parking lot.

“Why are we out here?” you asked, him keeping you moving quickly. 

He only stopped when you made it to his truck, the two of you standing by the driver's side door, him looking around to make sure the coast was clear. 

Your gazes finally met as he said, “I’m sorry. I panicked.”

“About what…?”

“What he said.”

“What did he say?” A big smile appeared on his face looking pleased with himself, and he only looked like that when— “Oh my god.” Excitement bubbled up inside you. “You’ve got tea, spill—cuéntame el chisme (tell me the gossip),” you batted at his chest. 

There was a chance he’d literally start vibrating; he looked so giddy. 

“Baby, he said she’s his fucking petirrojito.”

Your eyes squinted. “I literally have no idea what that means? Is it something super romantic? Did he secretly get married over the weekend or something?”

“No, no—” He shook his head. “—petirrojo means robin..,” he said slowly.

With the -ito at the end, that’d make it—

“His little robin,” you gasped, your hand going to your mouth. “No fucking way, Javier. Maybe that’s just a cute endearment that’s purely coincidental–it can’t be what you’re suggesting, I’d know.” 

“It is.” His dimple was showing he was smiling so big while he nodded enthusiastically. 

No, you’d know if Robyn hooked up with one of Javi’s cousins. Unless she didn’t know. In all of the dirty details she spilled, she never once mentioned a name, but she was very descriptive of his looks, and now that you were thinking about it…

“Shut the fuck up,” you replied, your hand falling. “Are you positive? How can you be so sure?” 

“I double-checked and had him tell me more about what she looks like, and it’s Robyn, Cielito. It’s fucking her.”

The way he was so excited had you smiling, still unbelievably stunned your best friend actually bagged a Peña without your help. 

“More like he’s fucking her,” you said. 

Your boyfriend’s face fell, paling at what you assumed was him remembering your conversation in the truck. 

“No,” he said in a small voice. 

“Sorry, babe.” You patted his cheek. “You know too much about your cousin’s very adventurous sex life—can’t believe they fucked in the back of his Ford Bronco in the bar parking lot.” 

He made a disgusted face. “Don’t tell me that shit.” 

Amusement was on her face, and he had no fucking idea what she’d say next. 

Javier had been so excited about having what Cielito would call ‘hot gossip’ he’d wholly forgotten their talk on the way here. 

Pop Rocks blow job.

He shuddered, grimacing at remembering. 

“I mean,” she started, and all his attention went to her. “If they start dating, he’ll probably know too much about your very adventurous sex life.” She ended the sentence with a poke to his chest. 

He crossed his arms in front of him while his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Why...?” 

Smiling, she answered, “‘Cause Robyn and I discuss, in pornographic detail, our sexual encounters—yes, she’s well aware you have a big dick, and I don’t want you to be mad. I just need someone I can brag to about the things you do to me.” That had his chest puffing up a little, making him smile. “Plus, we give each other pointers and ideas, which you’ve never complained about. I believe it was you—” She poked the tip of his nose. “—who had us get her a gift certificate to a spa after she convinced me to let you fuck my ass.”  

The memories of that had his pants feeling tighter. 

He nodded to himself. “Worth it,” he murmured. 

She looked so beautiful standing in front of him wearing her pretty dress. He grabbed her waist to back her up against the truck. 

Smiling, he told her, “I love you so fucking much.” 

She matched his expression. “I love you so fucking much.” 

“No.” He gently shook his head. “You don’t understand. I love you so fucking much—” He grabbed her palms in both of his and held them over his heart “—that I feel you here,” he said, pressing them into his chest. “That’s where you are—the place you live inside me, making my heart beat, or race, or thud. That’s you, giving me life. I love you so fucking much that you’re a part of me, and I’m a part of you, and this is our life now—fuck,” he sighed. 

Tears were brimming in her eyes as she smiled. “It’s taking everything in you not to ask me to marry you right now, isn’t it?” she asked. 

He huffed out a breath, his hands moving to hold her face. “Yeah,” he answered, not even surprised she knew. “I can’t do it without a ring, not after…” he trailed off, not wanting to say aloud his first proposal that he had hardly any choice in.

She made the cutest scrunched-up face. “Okay, yes, a ring is necessary, and honestly, I get it now.” 

“Get what?” 

“The whole wanting to go all out for the proposal because it’s your decision, you want to marry me, and want to propose in your own way, and that’s just really fucking sweet, Javi. Thank you for wanting to make it something special.” She kissed him, a relieved breath leaving him that he wasn’t expecting. 

“I love this,” he said softly when he pulled back. 

“What?” 

“How happy you make me, how relaxed, how we have fun—I have so much fucking fun with you, and it feels like I can breathe. I love this, I love you, god, I love everything about you.”

“Good.” She slid her hands up his shirt-covered chest to his shoulders. “Because I really fucking love you and everything about you, and you’re just so fucking perfect—I need you to kiss me right now, or I’m—” 

He didn’t let her finish the sentence, crushing his mouth to hers in a searing kiss, taking a step to have their bodies flush against each other as he eagerly licked into her mouth to tangle his tongue with hers. 

He felt the vibrations of her moans, groaning when her fingers moved into his hair, getting his thigh between her legs. 

It was like she inhabited every part of his being, feeling her in his heart, his soul, and along his skin like a sweet caress; She was everywhere within him, and he didn’t feel alone, knowing she was there with him always. 

It was crazy how he found himself somehow loving her more after all that happened. 

It felt like his future wife loved his mom with all she had done to show her respect and to honor her, making Javier feel like he might cry that they’d never get to meet. He knew without a doubt how much his mother would love her and approve of Cielito becoming her daughter-in-law, hell, she probably would’ve convinced him to propose by now. 

The way his family had taken in his future wife told him he was choosing the right woman—his dad loving her from their first meeting was all the evidence he needed.

She was the one, the only one.

There was no one before her, and there would be no one after—she was it for him, and he was beyond happy about it. 

“Javi,” she said between kisses. 

“Hmm?” He nipped at her bottom lip. 

Her mouth was on his again, her words muffled, “If you’re introducing me as your wife, are you gonna fuck me as your wife later?” 

He smiled against her lips. “I already fuck you like my wife.” 

She pulled on his hair to make him look at her seeing her delightfully smiling. 

“I fucking knew something was different when there was suddenly an influx of face-to-face positions!” She started kissing all over his face, not even caring his sunglasses were in the way as she said amongst presses of her lips, “You adorably, romantic, sap. You’re the sweetest fucking future husband anyone could ever ask for, and I love you so fucking much.” 

He was grinning, her placing a kiss on his dimple, then his lips, feeling so unbelievably happy he might burst. 

“I love you, too,” he murmured into her mouth. 

They would get this out of their system, then go rejoin his mom and dad, spending the evening together as the family they were—and maybe tomorrow, he’d go out to the ranch to pick up something his father was holding onto for him…

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Tagging: @theorganasolo @nicolethered @nessamc @vanemando15 @fiscinthirst @melancholyy-hill @hnt-escape @sherala007 @jadesabre83 @rainbeaubrightchild @blub-senpai @pedrohoe04 @theherothesavior @captain-creampuff @javiersjeans @zetasaturno99 @amb11 @lovedbyth3sun @siidereeus @marvelousmermaid @mrszdjarin @themarcusmoreno @ms-loverman-066 @star-wars-fan-2005 @kissing-stars @chloeinpink @notyourlovemonkey @unofficialavenger90 @fictionismyreality @sheetsof-lennon @damnyoupedro @katareyoudrilling @iamskyereads @enjoyourlattebitch @daddydindjarin @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @athalien @thevoiceinyourheadx @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @mswarriorbabe80 @theewokingdead @pedrostories @guess-my-next-obsession

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña/reader #javier peña smut #wheresarizona writes #learning to live series

[ladythornofrivia]

popsicle

pair: sanzu x reader

warnings: cheating, sanzu being naughty, and toxic husband with profanity, secret affair, mentions of depression, mentions of insecurities, sanzu being h*rny and flirty, sanzu being a douchebag, but still lovable in his own way.

a/n: sorry being inactive. i’ve been obsessed with Getou, hence I changed my username. oh yes, i also have an ao3 account, yay!

• On a hot summer day, you stayed at the house, waiting for your husband to come home. It happens quite often when you’re bored and repressed by the expectations of what it means to be a good wife. Cleaning, pampering, and the means of being a “tidy wife”.

• Your husband didn’t come home that night. The food you prepared went into the fridge or at the trash bin, sometimes you ate the whole meal to a point where a husband shames your big appetite. Kept bragging about how the girls in porn magazines have much better figure and features. You couldn’t help but to feel down. You know that in your heart the girls in magazines have more plastic than the ocean combine.

• One morning, you overheard him talking in his sleep, moaning, even. You didn’t want the noise so you slept on the couch. Though when you went to the bathroom, you overheard your husband talking, awake. You have no clue to who he was talking to, but his expression said otherwise. And it wasn’t promotion.

• The next morning, your husband was nowhere to be found. And feeling a little lonely, the urge to touch yourself from the tightness in your pajama pants, so you quickly went onto the couch, took off your clothes, and tried to find a pornographic video you could find on your phone. From there, you stumbled across the video, also in the couch, you find yourself watching a gorgeous man with long pink hair and teal eyes under the long white lashes, brutally pounding his dick inside the girl’s cunt. With a girl’s whiny moans, it was almost a deal breaker, but with a gorgeous man before your eyes, he winked at the camera and sped up his thrusts against her. You finger coated with cum, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. You wanted to be in the same position as the girl on the video.

• And with that, you found yourself lucky with enough time in the house, wanting to be seen on the internet. At first you posted videos and selfies on the account, taking three shots until finding a perfect photo, but decided to upload all of them together. Then you decided to become as a part-time cam girl. Doing a first video of masturbation was awkward at first. So you took a shower and put a lot of skincare to make an effort of looking flawless on screen first. The moment the awkward tension has gone down, you sat down, without undergarments, with your spread legs, your fingers dipped down into the hole as your breasts bounced for every movement shifted. Coming down from a high climax was real accomplishment, thus planning to have more brand new lingerie to tease the audience.

• The next morning, your account on the cam website blown up. Your cam girl views went viral through pornographic websites, your figure is and your skin are lustrous and flawless. Even on the tweets, you have gone viral—your body has gone viral. Many likes and many comments. And all the pornstars wanted to collab with you. Most of all, what got your attention is when Sanzu subtweeted your videos and commented on every single pictures you posted, praising you with dirtiest comments.

• Everything is perfect. Except the efforts of keeping secrecy from your husband, living as a double life will be impossible, unless blurting out that you’re making good money from the elicit websites. With your husband ignoring your existence, it should be easy, despite being hurtful by his intentions. At night, you waited for him to fall asleep to do your naughty sessions online. More views had gone up, and with your social media accounts, pornstars have bombarded you with not so flirting and thirsting. You ignored all of them except for the gorgeous man with pink hair who goes by the name of Sanzu. Sanzu is the most popular pornstar/camboy. Although you’ve seen him from the screen, you wanted to know what he sounds like.

•Even in your dreams, you dreamt of him fucking you in you and your husband’s bed. Everything were hopes and dreams, but then days changed when your friend decides to set up a group hangout, you and your friends hung out at the department store to wear for the karaoke. Accidentally bumping against a tall frame, you apologized immediately, you looked up and saw tall men in suits. When one was about to grip on your shirt, the other man stepped in and told the other guy to back off. You immediately noticed the long pink hair, but you have never seen a gorgeous face with diamond-shaped scars. Maybe you’ve mistaken the man for Sanzu. Maybe he isn’t Sanzu. He looks like him, but he looks terrifying.

• Though you weren’t the only one checking him out. Sanzu checked you out with a long teasing glimpse and gave a smirk. For a while it’s been awkward full of groups, but eventually you and Sanzu hit it off, hanging out and singing in the karaoke. Sanzu wanted to be alone with you; he figured out who you are based on your birthmark on your neck; your hair style tucked at the backside. He couldn’t help but to flirt with you more as you separated your ways from the group. Luckily your husband wasn’t home.

• Sanzu bought two popsicles—both strawberry flavored—a perfect way to savor the sweet, hot summer. As you relished the taste of popsicle, Sanzu couldn’t help but noticed your tongue swirling on the tip, then trailed down at the length. When he cleared his throat, you looked up at him, realizing what you’ve done, thus behaving like a good girl.

• You and Sanzu talked until he said, “I know who you are. I did my research after my own live stream. You’re (y/n), the girl with good grades and reputation, never drink or do drugs, never had sex, even with your husband. Your husband won’t be home for a while; he’s out with his mistress. He always leaves early and arrives here later at night.”

• You staggered, licking your lips as you stare at Sanzu drinking and eating the sight of him like a popsicle. “How did you know?”

• Sanzu chuckled, trailing his fingers onto your skin. “I know my ways of knowing everybody. You’re aware of the organization that controls the area you’re living in right now. I kill traitors and cheaters alike. Sanzu, second commander in Bonten, to King Mikey.”

• You figured it was Bonten, the infamous group who tries to patrol every street and buildings. Living in a shelter is too much of getting your naïveté to grow.

• “Open yourself up to me, and I can show you ways of what it means to have a man inside you,” he coerced, lifting your leg inch by inch.

• With a comply, you let Sanzu ripped its way into you with his cock, rocking his hips as your couch creaked. Moaning, your arms strapped around his muscled body, breathing and moaning into his ears. Sanzu chuckled, kissing your neckline. “Hold onto me, kitty. It’s going to be a bumpy ride. Just for a record, I don’t have condom with me.”

• His efforts on making you feel satisfied, your needs of pleasure came soon to an end, but you don’t want it to end. Sanzu felt sadness in you, so he gave you his phone number. But since you don’t have a smartphone—restricted by your husband, he gave you his spare phone, and has another one in his other pocket. And within days, you and Sanzu talked, as if you guys have known each other for a long time. Each time you texted Sanzu, you feel elated as if single. But feeling guilty each time your husband’s footsteps came. Hiding your double life and a phone from Sanzu wasn’t easy. Your husband wanted to spend time with you, but you declined and said you’re heading out for shopping groceries and clothes, when all you did was fucking Sanzu in his penthouse.

• After months on spending each other’s company, you came back into your house and your husband beaten you almost to death, saying how unreliable and liar you are. The next day, you couldn’t face Sanzu, but Sanzu figured out your husband beaten you up to a point he ordered his men to kidnap your husband and kill him without remorse. After that, for a while you haven’t seen your husband, not that you care, of course, and Sanzu eventually came into your place, notifying you of your husband’s passing. You knew your husband’s dead, and delved into Sanzu’s arms, crying.

•Kissing at the top of your hair, Sanzu said, “You should move in with me. Pack your most valuable things and we can fuck each other as long as we like. I can treat you better than that man. You’re special to me, (y/n). And I don’t ever plan on letting you go. I’ve seen the way you lick the popsicle, and I can’t help but feel a little jealous.” Thus he unveiled his mask, and kissed onto your lips, with a following of slow and sensual fucking—no cameras and live stream involved. Your life is in content with Sanzu, and with Sanzu, your freedom has been granted more than ever.

• “Get down on your knees,” he said, gripping your hair softly. “I want you to lick me like a popsicle.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo manji gang #tokrev #bonten x reader #reader insert #bonten #bonten smut #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #sanzu x reader #tr sanzu #sanzu haruchiyo smut #smut #fluff #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #tokyo rev #tokyorev x reader #sanzu smut #tr smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #anime fanfic #tokyo rev x reader #fanfics

[averysmolbear]

Happy Birthday, Darling Deku!

CW: This is pure fluff for Izuku’s birthday (it’s late and I’m sorry but it’s the first time I’m writing him so I’m also nervous about that too)! It’s an established relationship with aged up characters. Figure on the reader and pro hero!Izuku both being in their twenties. There are some pet names (darling, bunny, babe). This hasn’t been proofread either.

Izuku was nervously excited as he arrived at your apartment complex at the appointed time. While last year the two of you had been casually dating when his birthday rolled around so the day had been celebrated with a large group of friends but now that the two of you were official, you had made a point of planning a dinner for the two of you before you met up with friends for a small gathering. Izuku had happily agreed to it mostly because he knew it would make you happy.

Both of you had worked so he had no idea what you could have planned during the day. You had, however, taken a half day just so you could make sure everything was perfect.

Izuku wasn’t too surprised when you answered the door after only one ring of your doorbell. He was greeted by your smiling face and he, of course, was grinning back.

“Happy birthday, baby!”

Izuku let out a soft laugh, his wrapping around you before he even stepped into your apartment. He lifted you off the ground with ease as he embraced you, causing you to actually squeal with delight. It had to be the young pro hero’s favorite sound.

“Thanks, bunny.” He kissed your temple gently and let his hand slip into yours as you led him inside. “It smells good.”

You smile shyly and shrug, not wanting to brag about how much work you put in to make him his favorite dinner. “I got your mom to show me how to make katsudon for you. I hope you like it.”

His face lit up with the brightest smile at the mention of his favorite meal. “You got my mom to help?”

You laughed with a quick shrug of your shoulders as you led him straight into the kitchen. “I got her on the phone to walk me through making it anyway. She was happy to help actually and well, I just hope I didn’t mess it up.”

Izuku knew you could sometimes be a bit of a perfectionist so he smiled and shook his head when you looked at him. He cupped your chin gently, his heart fluttering as you looked up at him. “It’ll be perfect. I know it already.”

You rolled your eyes and waved him off but his arms wrapped around your waist. He pulled you close and nuzzled your neck softly before placing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“I mean it, bunny. I know it’s going to be perfect.”

You wiggled your way out of his grasp, making your boyfriend laugh. Once he was sitting at the kitchen table, you put down the plates. Izuku grabbed your wrist and kissed the top of your hand gently before you could even sit down.

As you both sat and ate, Izuku complimented the food more times that you could count, each time sounding more sincere than the last. When he found out you made more but only picked the perfect two for dinner, he begged you to let him take some of the extras home.

You just laughed and reminded him that you still had to meet with friends. The pout he gave you made you promise to drop off lunch for Izuku the next day at his pro hero agency. You cleaned up the dishes and walked back to the table with a small box, wrapped in shiny red paper.

You sat on Izuku’s lap and handed him the gift. “I hope you like it. I know it’s just a tiny thing but … well, it’s a pretty big deal.”

Izuku tilted his head to the side as he looked at you. He looked at the small rectangular box now in his hand. The small tag read ‘to my darling Deku’ which made him grin. He was incredibly careful as he unwrapped it and opened the box. He placed the box on the table after seeing the gift inside, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

“Bunny, that’s too much.”

You laughed and shook your head but soon Izuku was covering your cheek in soft kisses. “You like it?”

That was clearly a dumb question. Especially when Izuku looked at you with his eyes shining and the biggest grin on his face.

“It’s a key to your place. Of course I like it,” he excitedly said, nodding. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. You’re here so much anyway. You deserve a key.”

Izuku nuzzled his nose in your neck before kissing your shoulder softly. His grin soon turned into a more sly smile. “I think we’re going to have to be late for meeting our friends. You deserve a proper thank you for a gift this important.”

Before you could even argue, he was scooping you up in his arms and carrying you out of the kitchen. And who were you to deny the birthday boy?

#tessie writes #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku x y/n #izuku midoriya x y/n #deku x y/n #mha fluff #bnha fluff #happy belated birthday Izuku

[blarefordaglare]

this post used to be linked universe memes but because I don’t know where I got it from and want to give credit from now on instead I’ll just put a cr*cliff I made

TW: None, unless tying people to chairs is considered a crime?

“I’m not cooking tonight.” The familiar voice of the champion rang through the camp, “I swear if I cook fish one more night in a row I will turn into a cod.”

Normally, a refusal to cook, from the designated cook, would send alarm bells through the chain. But he had a point. This would mark the 17th night they ate fish (Yay, thanks Wind), and honestly, everyone was getting sick of it, even the sailor himself. 

“Ho-Kay then, so what are we going to eat?”

“Have you guys been to a restaurant before?” 

…

This is when chaos ensues.

“Okay, so you are a party of nine?” A waitress stood in front of the chain. 9 heroes, in probably the worst attire to wear for a fancy restaurant, standing right before her.

Time quickly stepped in, “Yes, nine. Five adults and four children.” That earned him a very aggressive poke on the shoulder.

“Old man, I’m over one hundred years old, I think a hundred and seventeen is over eighteen years of age.” 

“Oh hush you, this bill is already gonna be expensive, plus judging by how you literally ATE a rock the other day, I think we can subtract a century.” 

“Just shut up you both. I am famished.” The pink haired boy let out a dramatic sigh. He just wanted his food.

“Drama Queen.”

All settled around a booth, at the ripe time of 19:17, the boys and men were ready to eat most definitely. 

“Sailor, don’t fill up on bread.” The captain mentioned, slyly moving the bread basket away from the teenager. 

“Oh-ohm-ohn, Imf a owin oy!” The sailor retaliated (or so that’s what it sounded like anyway, you can’t really tell when someone’s mouth is full.)

“Um, ma’am? I think we’re ready to order.” Twilight spoke up. He was stuck between Legend and Warriors, making sure that they don’t beat each other up. Not sure how he got into the beautiful position of family therapist, but it’s whatever.

“Time?”

“Yes Sky?”

“What’s a medium rare?”

“Oh it’s when the meat is only partially cooked!”

“Okay, miss? May I please have a medium rare chicken?” The innocent boy asked. Legend stifled a laugh, and Hyrule looked a little bit shocked.

“Um… I’ll see what I can do, and you sir?”

“I’ll take… actually I’m full!” Wind replied. He could have sworn he heard someone mumble ‘called it.’ But didn’t say anything.

“Oh okay, what about you?” She looked over at Four, who looked deep in thought.

“I’ll have the stuffed bell peppers, but WHATEVER YOU DO… do not use the green bell peppers… or someone is going to get hurt.” Maybe threatening wasn’t the best idea, but then again it’s also a complete valid reason if you are completely afraid of green bell peppers… according to Four and only Four.

“Mhm… got it? And you?”

“Okay lady, listen up. I would like some pizza, but without the crust, and hold off on the cheese.” Legend earned himself a flick from Twilight, “…Please.”

“So… just sauce?”

“Whatever you call it.”

“May I please have the fried wild greens?” Twilight *politely* asked.

“Of course! What about you?” Her eyes fell on Warriors. 

“Do you have any dates?”

“No sir, this is a restaurant.”

“Well, would you like to orange a date?” The waitress’s cheeks flushed, before she quickly moved on to the next Link. 

“Quick question, is the water that you have drinkable?” Hyrule asked, eying his glass. The waitress slowly nodded her head in confusion. “Alright, then I’ll eat a red potion.”

“I’m just going to completely ignore that request, as I have no idea what a red potion is.”

“I’ll have the steak, if it’s no trouble.” Time politely requested. Aside from Twilight, he was basically the only one with a sensible dish. 

“Of course and what about… you?” The waitress looked down to where wild was supposed to be sitting, but somehow he was not there.

“Okay who kidnapped our archer?” Legend bluntly asked. 

“Give me a minute,” Time stood up, “I know where he is.”

…

“Wild!”

“Okay, and then you see this is how you fry-“

“WILD!”

The champion almost dropped the pan from the harshness of the old man’s voice, “What?!”

“Tell me why you are in the kitchen that says EMPLOYEES ONLY??”

“Because! They weren’t cooking it right. I’m teaching them.”

“Champion, tying people to chairs and forcing them to watch you cook isn’t ‘teaching’.”

“Oops”

“What are you making anyway?”

“Fish.”

#linked universe #lu twilight #lu hyrule #lu sky #lu four #lu wind #lu warriors #lu time #lu legend #lu wild

[diorst4rr]

I <3 YA! isagi yoichi

━︎━︎━︎━︎ isagi sees ur fine self at a cookout hosted by shidou and starts acting like a damn dog. black fem reader. headcannon.

Shidou was hosting a cookout in his backyard because he dgaf and wanted to get turnt. He invited all the people from Blue Lock that would make the party interesting, Sae, some friends and family and his pretty next door neighbor: you 😛

Originally you wasn’t gonna go because Shidou was mad annoying. Trust you never wanted to move from a house so badly until you met him.

But you could smell the patties, chicken, corn and food they was grilling from your room which was EXTREMELY TEMPTING.

Since you got invited, might as well get a plate right?

When you got there Shidou greeting you immediately, throwing an arm around your shoulder and invading your personal space—as always.

“Wassup mamas, you finally decided to come huh?” He asks, taking a quick sip from the drink he had in his red cup.

“Didn’t come for you.” You say quickly, “I’m just getting a bite then dipping.”

Shidou rolls his eyes at you before pushing you forward.

“I’m tired of your boujee ass. You really think I’m gonna let you steal my food then dip? Try it and see what will happen.” He says before walking away.

You shrug your shoulders. He wasn’t gon do nothing, you told yourself—heading over to where the food was served.

As you stood in line, you felt a presence behind you. But it wasn’t that weird sort-of “off putting” presence. It was like you could tell the person standing behind you was hot as fuck. You turned around for a quick glance to see the most attractive man you’ve probably seen up close.

He must’ve been one of Shidou’s football friends—you thought to yourself. You couldn’t help but notice how tall and muscular he was, which was definitely a plus to his person.

“S’cuse me, could you pass me a plate?” You hear from behind you. Well damn. His voice was swoon worthy too.

As you reach to for a plate, your turn around to hand it to him, finally getting a good look of his face.

“Here you go.” You say as you hand him the plate. Not missing the way his fingers brush against yours as he takes it from you.

“‘Preciate it.”

And that’s how the two of you met!

As you guys were in line y’all started talking. Firstly about how long the line was taking, the music that was playing and how good the food was gonna be once you guys ate it.

By the time that conversation ended the two of you already felt like good friends.

You found out his name was Isagi and the two of you decided to talk to each other while eating. While you thought that he was fine and a interesting person, Isagi had heart eyes.

For him, he didn’t know what to except after accepting to go to this cookout. In truth he was only going because Shidou said they got good food—and he was tired of the Blue Lock diet.

When he got there he partied a little, talked to some people and after a while ate some food. (which was good as fuck 😛)

But then it got a bit boring and he was deciding to go home—but not before getting another plate of food 😗

That’s when he saw you. Standing in line with yo fine self. And he was absolutely MESMERIZED.

I mean, to Isagi you was the bested dressed mf in this place. And you wasn’t even trying at all. Not to mention the way your shorts hugged your thighs—

Come on we all know Isagi is a thigh man. 🫶🏾🩷

But anyways, he just KNEW he had to speak to you. So he took that chance.

When he asked you to pass a plate and heard your voice WHEWWWW— you sounded so angelic and all you said was three words.

Isagi had never been THIS down bad for a person before. He was starting to think that maybe it was because he hadn’t interacted with girls for a while…

But the more he started making small talk to you, the more he started to fall in love.

© DIORST4RR

#bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk isagi #bllk #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock isagi #isagi x y/n #isagi x reader #♡︎-writtenbymilly #isagi x black reader #black reader #poc #shidou ryuusei x reader #Shidou ryusei

[dark-frosted-heart]

My Beloved Villain Who Swept Me Away - Roger Barel

As usual can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

Male customer: Two beers and…any food you recommend?

Kate: How about a cottage pie? Fresh out of the oven.

Male customer: Then I’ll take two

Kate: Got it, coming right up!

I take the order to the counter. Meanwhile, business is booming as customers keep coming.

(Today’s December 31st. Since it’s the night of the last day of the year, a lot of people are going out to drink and ring in the new year)

While thinking about it, I was about to serve some new customers when—

Roger: Little lady…?

—I bumped into Roger who just entered the tavern.

Kate: Welcome, Roger.

Roger: Welcome…Did you quit being a fairy tale writer and get a job at a tavern?

Kate: No, I didn’t quit. I’m just working here for the day.

~~ Flashback ~~

It happened in the afternoon as I was on my way back from a mission after parting ways with Alfons and Elbert.

I saw a thin man getting beaten up near a bar.

(Hey, stop it…! Is there anyone around to help…)

I looked around, but everyone who passed turned a blind eye and continued on their way.

(The police are too far…I’ll have to intervene…!)

Kate: Hold it! Why are you doing this? He’s not even resisting…

Bartender: It’s his fault. He didn’t have any money but ordered all the pricey food and drinks.

(Meaning he tried to dine and dash? But to resort to violence…)

Skinny man: …

While the bartender and I were talking, the man took the chance to run off and disappear into the crowd.

Bartender: Ah, damn it! He ran away! It’s all because of you…

Kate: S-sorry…

Bartender: No use apologizing… Right, that’s it, you’ll work in his place to pay back all he ate and drank. 

~~ End flashback ~~

Kate: …So I had to work to make up for all the food and drink the guy had without paying.

Roger: That sucks to hear. But also, didn’t somethin’ like this happen to you before you joined Crown?

Kate: Now that you mention it…yeah.

Roger: Human habits never change…Well, good luck.

Roger patted my head as if he was praising his pet dog.

After talking with Roger, I was busy with customers after customers.

As midnight approached, I thought I’d have time to take a break as things started to calm down, but then, one by one, customers started to offer me a drink.

(I can’t refuse if they’re buying me a drink…)

As I continued to drink what was served to me, I was getting tipsy and my thoughts gradually became fuzzy.

(I need to get it together, I’m still in the middle of working…)

As I continued serving the customers while keeping myself motivated, a male customer put money down before me.

Male customer with a protruding belly: -buy you. Is this enough?

(...? My head’s cloudy. What did he say…)

(If he’s handing me money…Is he paying his bill…?)

I nodded and was going to take his money.

—But then an arm around pulled me away

Kate: Ro…ger…?

Roger: Sorry. I had my eye on this one for a while now. Not gonna hand her over.

As he said that to the customer, Roger put more than twice the amount of money on the table.

(Had his eye…What is he talking…)

Male customer with a protruding belly: Isn’t it first come, first serve?

Roger: Not if you pay more? Besides…You should feel ashamed for trying to buy such a fine woman with that measly amount, don’t you think?

Roger glanced at the money the man put down and smirked as he said “measly”.

Male customer with a protruding belly: …Don’t fuck with me!

The customer, face flushed with anger, raises his fist at Roger.

However, Roger nonchalantly dodged the fist with ease.

Roger: Oops, that was dangerous. Well, can’t blame me for defendin’ myself then. Little lady, take care of this for me.  

Roger handed me his glasses.

Roger: My vision’s blurry and I can’t make out the little lady’s face clearly, but… It’s risky to wear glasses when you’re about to get in a fight.

(Huh…? Fight? Why’re you starting a fight…?)

I tried to stop Roger, but I was too drunk and unsteady to do anything.

On top of that, the other customers in the tavern were getting rowdy because of the fight, livening up the place.

(At least…I hop Roger doesn’t get seriously injured)

That’s what I wished for with my blurred consciousness as I held onto his glasses.

–

Kate: Nn…

Jolting movement woke me up and I found myself being carried in Roger’s arms.

I was greeted by Roger without his glasses up close and my eyes widened unconsciously.

Roger: Mornin’ little lady. Was it comfortable sleeping in my arms? Also…I’d appreciate it if you gave back what’s in your hands soon.

That’s when I realized that I’d been holding onto Roger’s glasses this whole time.

Kate: S-sorry…

I wiped his lenses with a handkerchief and returned his glasses. He accepted it with his arms down.

Kate: Um…by the way, why am I here…? I was working at the tavern for the day…

Roger: You got drunk and passed out. Couldn’t work anymore so I brought you here. And…did you know that at night, the women who work at the tavern sell their bodies?

Kate: Huh?! I didn’t know… Ah…! Then, when that customer wanted to give me money, he wanted to buy me?!

Roger: Yep. Right after gettin’ you drunk and impaired. The tavern gets a cut so even if they don’t know what’s going on, no one’s gonna stop it.

Kate: You saved me, Roger…Thank you so much.

If it weren’t for Roger, I would’ve been bought by a complete stranger. I shuddered at the thought.

Roger: Haha, saved you? Do I look like a good guy to you, little lady? According to the rules, I bought you for a day.

For you, who you spend the night with switched from that guy to me.

Kate: Huh…

Roger: You’re mine ‘til the date changes… So, what should we do? I know a lot of places to rest around here.

Kate: W-wait a minute, Roger! I’ll pay you back! So…

Roger: Want me to let you go? Don’t wanna. I’m not the kind of guy to change my mind once it’s set on something. I’ve earned the right to do what I want with you so why’d I let you go?

Kate: …You don’t have to do this…you always do whatever you want anyway!

Roger: That’s not a nice thing to say. You make me sound like a bad guy.

Kate: I mean it…

Roger: Harsh. It’s usually just a kiss (greeting), isn’t it? So I thought we’d go a little further today.

Ah, the year’s almost over.

Kate: Is it that time already…?

Roger: Can’t you hear from her? People are counting down everywhere.

(That’s right. Roger’s cursed ability lets him hear sounds from far away…)

Kate: You got a nice countdown, Roger…

Roger: You wanna do it too, little lady? Then you’ll have to do it with me.

Kate: Eh…

Roger: Come on, we’re running out of time. 10, 9, 8, 7…

Roger started counting down and I hurriedly joined in.

Roger and Kate: 6, 5, 4…

(Ah-)

With three seconds to go, Roger put his hand on my cheek.

Based on previous experience, it was obvious what he was going to do and I had time to run away. However-

Roger: 3, 2, 1…

The moment the countdown ended, I stayed still and our lips pressed together.

(Until the date changes…I can’t turn Roger down because he bought me)

(That’s it…so…)

Before long, our lips parted with the sound of the loudest fireworks ringing in the new year.

Roger: Happy New Year, little lady. Have a great year, won’t you…?

Kate: You too…

It was frustrating to see Roger smile as if the kiss was nothing.

To Roger, a kiss was just a greeting, but to me, it was something much more special.

Roger: So, are you gonna let me touch you more? Or not?

Kate: The date’s changed so you can’t do whatever you want anymore!

Roger: Damn, you’re pretty headstrong, little lady. I spent a lot on you.

Roger’s hand lets go of my chin with that snide remark.

(They say that “actions speak louder than words”)

(He plays with me, but I don’t think Roger actually has any sort of attachment to me…)

The moment I thought that, I felt a pain spread in my chest. From anger at being played with…probably.

Roger: Well, that’s fine. You’ll stay like that the whole year too. The more defiant and competitive you are, the more I get to discipline you.

Kate: There’s no need for disciplining…!

Whenever I’m with him, I’m always the one getting pushed around.

(This year…I’d like to leave at least a little mark on Roger’s heart)

#ikemen villains #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger #ikevil summary #ikevil #ikevil jp

[applepi-1]

The Texts

Hey

Do you remember when we watched movies til 3 am? Eating anything we can find that was unhealthy. You eating so much strawberry cheesecake and me who ate so much chocolate covered strawberries. Use to joke saying I was trying to level the healthy with the non healthy choices. You use to laugh and call me an idiot, he’s not as funny.

You put your phone down on the table looking at the clock that read 10:30 you looked at your boyfriend who slept by your side, you slowly got out of bed walking down the stairs and out the door, sitting in the cold cold air.

Do you remember our first I love you? I do. It was a cute romantic scene. We just came back from your brothers birthday party and you mother and grandmother kept asking when we’d get married. You had a sparkle in your eyes, do you still have it?

You sighed walking into your apartment looking at your boyfriend as he paced around the room on the phone with his mother. He looked at you and pointed towards the kitchen, you quickly bowed and made your way and began dinner.

You remember that god awful strawberry shortcake we made? It tasted like feet, but you ate every bite clamming to love it?

You scrubbed the food off the plate and into the trash as your boyfriend yelled in the background.

You remember my random 3 am phone calls? No matter how cranky you always answered, always stayed on the phone til I fell asleep. I guess now it’s 3 am text to a number who doesn’t text back.

You looked over at your boyfriend as he slept quickly going to the restroom turning the faucet as the tears ran down your face.

You remember the day we ran away? My dad was throwing things at my mother the day she cheated and you showed up on your bike, riding us to the nearest park. We stayed there for hours. Talking. Smiling. Well I ran away today, parks colder alone…

You covered up the bruise and cuts and sighed into the wind watching your breath slowly disappear into the cold air.

You remember when your brother said I was like the sibling he never had, and asked when you’d marry me so I can officially become the sibling he never had. His family doesn’t even know my name.

You sat at the dinner table very uncomfortable as his dad tried and failed to make small talk with you, it was clear you were never mentioned or even brought up for them to know anything about you.

Today was supposed to be a good day. I went to the amusement park. It wasn’t as fun. He didn’t want to get on any of the rides. I begged like a five year old. Remember when you use to call me an idiot and drag me to the ride I wanted to go on, he’s not funny.

You slumped into the car as he slammed the door. “You’re always on that damn phone who the hell are you texting?”

“My ex.”

“Your ex?”

“Yes, my ex.”

“Why?”

“Why? WHY? Because he can be a dick and act salty around everyone, but he was sweet to me, he was kind. He cared about me. He actually loved me. He is half the man you will ever be, he listened to me, talked to me to his family, bragged about me to his friends. He’s not you.”

“Yeah? He still left.”

I told him about you today… he didn’t like how I spoke so highly of you.

Why did you leave?

—

Today wasn’t so good, I remember how gentle you hands are whenever his touch mine. Your hands were never rough or aggressive… they were caring and sweet. He’s not caring.

You threw your coat on hissing as it rubs against the bruises on your skin.

Remember when you gave me your jacket at the winter dance? You made a horrible “well damn Jackie I can’t control the weather” joke, your friends laughed at you for it, I thought it was adorable. He’s not nice.

You slumped in the corner of the room as everyone talked amongst themselves, you knew no one here but your boyfriend who was no where in eye sight.

Remember when we use to sneak onto the roof at school, the wind was amazing up there. Is the wind still amazing?

You looked at him through a window watching him give a tour of dinosaurs to little kids, smiling to yourself before walking away.

I’m jealous of the town, they can see you everyday, I’m jealous of the dead dinosaurs who are in your bubble at all times, I’m jealous of the single moms who gawk. I saw you the other day, you look good.

You placed your phone down onto the cafe table sighing into your seat watching as the barista brings a plate of chocolate cover strawberries. “Thank you, Teresa.”

i remember when you got into nationals… I was so proud of you, I remember calling you up, telling you how proud I was. I saw Iwaizumi today, he says you’re doing well.

You put your phone in your pocket as you wait for a cab. “Y/n wait.” You looked back seeing Iwaizumi run back to you.

“Yes?”

“He misses you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We’re not friends, or even close, old team rivals, but I run into Kageyama time to time, and… he misses you.”

“Kageyama told you this?”

“Yeah, He says he glances at his phone and smiled softly, he snuck a glance and saw it was you… you still message him?”

“I do… just when little things remind me of him. I do the same for my boyfriend.”

“Of course.” He went to walk away but you grabbed his arm. “Yes?”

“I don’t… I only write him. I miss him too. It was good seeing you Iwa.”

“You too.” You got into your cab smiling softly to yourself.

I sat in our old cafe the other day, Teresa is finally with the guy we told her about. They seem really happy. You remember when we first got there I spilt water all over her. I still apologize to this day. I had a chocolate covered strawberry for the first time since we.. you know.

You gasped as the door swung open. “Jeez you scared me.”

“Why don’t you love me?”

“You know why.” He stumbled over to you pushing you down onto the bed. “What are you doing?”

“Making love to a stubborn girl to make her fall in love.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Come on I haven’t touched you in ages.”

“I’m not in the mood.” You sat back up but he pushed you down again, climbing on top of you holding your wrist together tightly enough for it to bruise the next day. “I don’t want this.”

“You don’t know what you want.”

“I’m saying no.” He looked down at you before releasing your hands, you sighed in relief but quickly drew in a sharp breath as an awful sting took to your face.

Do you remember our first time? We went to the movies to see Jurassic World with Chris Pratt. You walked me home and I invited you in. It was perfect. Never forced. He’s not perfect.

You sat your phone down crying before you heard a buzz, you quickly picked up your phone looking down at it as two words read below your many texts.

I remember.

Why? Why did you leave? Why do I see your picture perfect smile as he throws a hand back? It’s not fair.

You looked at the message before deleting it.

Why? Why did you leave? Why do I see your picture perfect smile as he throws a hand back? It’s not fair.

I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry.

I’m so so sorry.

Why are you apologizing?

Y/n?

I’m sorry…

You put the phone down staring at your ceiling.

—

He looked down at his phone waiting to see if you’d text anything other than I’m sorry, his friend looked at him confused as he waited. “her again?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what to say.”

“what did she want?”

“She said she was sorry.”

“For?”

“I guess texting me? I should be the one apologizing, I gotta go, tell Kiyoko happy birthday for me.” He walked off winding up at the park you two spent many nights running away from home, it was colder. He sighed looking at the big lights that lead to the amusement park, he followed watching as couples point to many unsafe rides. Lastly, the cafe, he stared in the window as the barista you talked about smiled at the man with such love, he walked in getting her attention, her smile grew as she walked over.

“Hi! How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I know, I’m sorry Teresa, I’m glad things worked out for you.”

“Awe, thanks hun, get any table you like, your table is still available of course.”

“My table?”

“You know which one.” She walked off to another table as he walked over to his. He sat down feeling weird as it been ages.

I’m in town today, Teresa does look happy, he suits her, the amusement park still looks unsafe I see. And you were right much colder alone at the park.

He waited for you to reply but nothing came.

Can I see you tonight?

Sure?

Cafe?

Be there in 10.

—

He looked up as the bell dinged, you walked over to him slowly smiling lightly as you sat in front of him. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You shifted in your seat a bit. “How’ve you been? The king tells me you’ve got a promotion.”

“I did. I’ve been good, how about you? Iwaizumi said you also got a promotion as manager of the museum.” He laughed quietly confusing you. “What?”

“We’re acting like middle schoolers going around asking our friends about one another,” You ended up joining his laughter.

“You’re so right! How is the old team?”

“Tanaka and Kiyoko are to be married soon.”

“Oh I know, I got an invite, can you believe after years of pinning, he got the girl.”

“Yeah… he got the girl.” You noticed how his eyes fell at the statement.

“Why did you leave?” Before he could answer another barista appeared.

“What can I get you guys?”

“Oh um, some strawberry shortcake and chocolate covered strawberries please.”

“Oh we don’t serve-“

“I got them!” You quietly chuckled as Teresa settley ran into the poor girl scaring the boy slightly. “I got them.” They laughed as the woman walked away.

“Settle, real settle.”

“One shortcake and strawberries coming up.” You laughed once more at the girl before turning to him.

“What?”

“I forgot how angelic your laugh is.”

“Nothing compared your voice.”

“Please.”

“I’m serious, I could fall asleep listening to it.”

“I’m sure I can send a voice memo at 3 am in texts.” You blushed as she brought out the cake, him taking a bite quickly. “Doesn’t come close to yours Y/n.”

“Oh please, mine was awful.”

“Feet don’t taste like that.”

“How would you know?”

“Oh, um, Y/n. I meant to ask, how’d you like the flowers?”

“Flowers?” You looked at her funny.

“Oh your um boyfriend came in the other day had some in his hand, said they were for his girlfriend.”

“Oh, those f-flowers, they were lovely, Lilly’s.”

“It was roses.”

“Oh right, sorry he just buys so many different ones.” She smiled sweetly before another customer called for her.

“You okay?’

“Yeah, yeah.” You shook your head laughing cocky. “No, I’m not, I’m in a very unhealthy relationship. I’m dating my dad and I’m my mom. This is bad.”

“Then why are you with him?” He rest his hands on the table leaning forward.

“Our parents set it up, well mine did all they had to say was girl and they were hooked. I can’t leave… he’d hurt me.”

“Then leave with me.”

“I-.”

“No seriously, come on. Come live with me, get back on your feet. Do the things you love, feel the amazing air.”

“You read my messages.”

“Highlights of my day honestly, don’t do this for me. Do it for you. What do you say?”

“Okay. Let’s do it, let’s go.” You texted your boyfriend a fair well and left your phone at the cafe before following him to his apartment. Teresa watched with a smile on her face, she knew you didn’t get the flowers, they weren’t even your favorite. She also knew you needed a push in the right direction.

—

It took a while to get over your fear of hands or bottles falling, you haven’t heard from you ex since you left. Everyone’s been patient with you and today makes a year since he took you under his wing, you smiled at yourself in the mirror before walking out your house with lunch in your hand walking off to his job. He was surprised to see you but still grabbed you two a table. You two sat in silence eating slowly enjoying one another’s company.

“Do you remember when we met?” You asked as you two finish and began to walk back home.

“I do, it was a Monday morning, dreadful days, you came running up to me wanting me to sign a protest to have coffee on campus.”

“I was so hooked on coffee back then.”

“Then you asked me my horoscope and took a piece out of a book you were reading and said-“

“I’d leave you alone if you sign my protest.”

“I took the paper after that and you said to keep it, it’ll bring me luck one day,” He pulled a piece of paper out his wallet handing it over to her.

“You kept it.”

“Since I was 14.”

“That was 8 years ago, its been in your wallet for-“

“8 years.”

“Wow. I can’t believe you.”

“You never went away by the way.”

“Oh I know. I’m glad I didn’t I don’t regret it.”

“You once asked why I left.” You too stopped in front of the building staring at one another. “Nationals was coming up. I was nervous, and I didn’t want you there if we lost. I regret doing it everyday, especially because I love you, and I’m sorry. I was nervous you were gonna leave and I pushed you to leave.”

“You love me? As in still?” He smiled softly at you nodding his head.

“still.” You stood on your tippy-toes looking up at him.

“Would you like to come in?”

“Remember what happened last time you did that?”

“I remember.”

#haikyuu #fluff #cute haikyuu #angst #haikyuu!! #confessions #haikyuuimagines #jealous #tsukishima x you #tsukishima texts #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader

[pursuedbyamemoryy]

hi! i saw you were doing requests, and i was wondering if you could do a oneshot of reader sleeping in john's tent for the first time because its all snowy and cold :3

❄️ cold snow and warm arms ೃ࿔*

word count - 700

warnings - brief mention of death, no mention of abigail or jack, john being awkward ( love him!! ) , gn!reader

author’s note - i love writing for red dead characters!! thanks for the cute req, i hope you enjoy reading ₍ᐢ. . ᐢ₎♡!

after weeks of being up in the harsh winds and snow of colter, the van der linde gang thought they were finally out of the miserable weather. they had relocated to horseshoe overlook, a quiet camp in the heartlands of new hanover. the first week or so had been decent weather, albeit a little chilly, as it was still early spring.

however, after not even two weeks of being in the new camp they were hit with a massive cold front, which unfortunately brought snow along with it. the entirety of the camp retreated inside their tents, the grounds of horseshoe overlook the quietest it had been since the rowdy gang arrived.

the canopy you usually slept under didn’t provide nearly enough warmth for a cold night like tonight, so john had offered to let you stay with him, which you gladly agreed to. you and john hadn’t been together for very long, you only finally confessed your feelings after he was attacked by those wolves up in the mountains. when he hadn’t returned to camp after days, you regretted not speaking up about the feelings you harbored towards him, and it all came spilling out once you saw him, bloody, cold, and inches away from death once arthur and javier had brought him back to camp.

you got settled into his tent, sitting down on his bedroll. you had already changed into comfier clothes for the night, and you were waiting for john to return with some of pearson’s barely palatable stew.

a couple minutes later he came back, one bowl of stew in each hand. he sat down next to you and handed you a bowl, to which you smiled gratefully and thanked him quietly. while pearson’s stew was usually bland and not enjoyable, you were glad you had food to eat. kind of. some days if you wait too long, the stew will be boiled beyond recognition, and turns into a chunky sort of sludge. that’s when you would resort to canned peaches or beans that you had hidden away in your satchel. thankfully the stew was just about edible today.

you ate together, making small talk in between bites of stew. after that, you set your bowls aside laid down on his bedroll together.

you laid down facing him, and looked into his eyes for a moment. he looked worn out, everyone in the gang was. running from the law and being out in the snow for weeks wasn’t exactly the easiest thing. you cupped just cheek gently, being careful not to touch the stitches that ran across his face. the wolf attack had left him with nasty cuts, ones that would definitely scar, but they didn’t make him any less attractive to you. plus, not many people could say they endured and survived a wolf attack. you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, slightly off center as to not disturb the cut the that ran through the right side of his lip. he kissed back and although his kisses were a little awkward, you didn’t mind. they were sweet in their own way.

you shifted on the bedroll next to him, cuddling up to him carefully. he went stiff for a second before slowly melting into and getting more comfortable with your touch.

“warm enough?” he asks quietly, cautiously putting his arm around you as you adjust the blanket that was draped across both of you.

you nod, “yes, are you?”. he nods in response, carefully pulling you closer.

when you first got together john was not the most affectionate. partly because he was still recovering from the wolf attack, and also because he simply wasn’t used to physical touch. you noticed that despite how awkward he still felt, he was slowly becoming more comfortable around you. the way he held you close to his chest, his chin resting on top of your head made your face flush slightly.

“good night, john” you said quietly.

“good night” he responded, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

neither of you said much else, quickly falling asleep in each other’s arms. the harsh winds outside were nothing compared to how warm and safe you felt in john’s arms.

© pursuedbyamemoryy 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work

#pursuedbyamemory writes #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #john marston #john marston x reader #arthur morgan

[echo-goes-mmm]

Moonflower #9

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: mild disordered eating

Only a few hours into the night, Kit woke up hungry. 

He had noticed that humans ate less than fae, but he’d gotten used to nothing at all. He thought he could manage on a light diet, but Kit had not seen luck for over a year.

He got out of bed, picking up his discarded clothes. 

Mistress had said he could eat when he needed to, and Kit’s stomach felt empty and demanding. 

He didn’t want to wake anyone. Kit was lower than a servant; he had no right to ask anything of the staff. And they might talk.

Kit stepped out into the hall.

Sir Maxus and a lady knight stood outside Iris’s door, dressed in leather armor.

“Where’re you going?” asked Maxus.

Kit hesitated. “The kitchen,” he admitted.

“I’ll walk you over.”

The silence was uneasy and awkward. 

Kit at least knew that Brennan: 

1. Didn’t trust or like him

And

2. Was very loyal to Iris

He didn’t know anything about Maxus, who was only behind Brennan in how often he was assigned to the queen.

“So…” said Maxus, “do fae have knights too?”

“I suppose. It’s not exactly the same duties, but the Prince has knights.”

“Prince? No king or queen?”

Kit shrugged. “Not for a long time.”

“Oh.” 

The torches on the wall sconces danced, casting warm light out into the hall. The castle was quiet and still, and Kit looked out the windows to see the stars.

The kitchen was just as silent, and Maxus leaned against a counter, watching.

Kit rifled through the storage. He found a cut of meat, wrapped up and fresh, and it made his mouth water. It was just one of many similar cuts, and they wouldn’t miss it, right?

There were berries in a jar, and the best find was a covered pitcher of heavy cream chilled in the dairy.

Kit poured some cream into a ceramic cup before putting the pitcher back. 

He didn’t bother with cooking, or finding cutlery, instead tearing off strips of meat and eating it raw.

He savored each bite. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that he was eating after a hunt, in peace. At home.

But Maxus’s presence ruined the illusion. 

Kit shook out the berries into the palm of his hand, and he ate the whole pint.

He slowly sipped at the cream, until it was gone.

Kit wiped the juices of the meat off the marble counter, and washed the cup and jar as best as he could.

Maxus walked him back to the royal wing without comment.

___________________

Iris didn’t say anything in the morning. He half expected Sir Brennan to confront him, but it seemed Maxus didn’t report his midnight meal.

Kit decided not to mention it to his Mistress. She had given him permission to eat, after all. Plus, Iris was so busy with other things and thoughts; she didn’t need more to worry about. 

Especially something unusual that could cause gossip.

___________________

The next night, he woke up hungry again.

Maybe it was a good sign that his appetite was returning in full swing. He didn’t even get dizzy in the kitchen the night before.

Maxus and the lady knight were stationed in the hall again.

Sir Maxus walked Kit to the kitchen.

“Aren’t you eating enough during the day?” he asked as Kit tucked into a loaf of bread, cheese, and more delicious cream.

Kit put down the cup. 

“I- I mean, I’m not judging or anything, I’m just wondering. You look really hungry.”

Kit looked away, fidgeting.

“Is the appetite a fae thing?” Maxus asked gently. “You guys eat more than we do?”

Kit nodded, his ears turning pink. He didn’t want to say it out loud. He was a foreigner, and even though mortals were just as strange to him as he was to them, it was unwise to draw attention.

He was at their mercy, after all. He was a slave.

“Maybe you should talk to Christine? To get bigger portions or something?”

Kit shook his head. He knew Iris’s aunt already judged him for declining wine, and someone had put salt in his food. Either on purpose, or an accident, it didn’t matter. Mortals just did food differently, and he was the outlier. 

He imagined the looks he’d get if his plate had twice the amount of the people sitting next to him.

“It would embarrass my Mistress,” he whispered, unwilling to break the serene quiet of the kitchen.

“If you say so,” said Maxus, unconvinced. “Still, just… write Chef a note or something, so she doesn’t wonder about the missing stuff.”

Kit nodded. “Yes, sir.” He could do that.

They walked back after Kit cleaned up, in silence.

___________________

“You’re looking better,” commented Iris the next morning.

“Hm?”

She gestured to his face as she ate her toast.

“You have some color in your cheeks. That’s good, right?”

“Oh. Yes.”

He did feel better. It was small, almost unnoticeable, but he didn’t feel so bad when he got up in the morning. Magic was still out of reach, but it would surely come soon.

Kit picked at the crumbs on his plate. He eyed the small pitcher of cream that came with the coffee pot on the breakfast cart.

Mistress left to do her makeup, and Kit waited until she was out of the room to drink it down.

He snuck a spoonful of sugar, the only thing better than cream, and a thought hit him.

He was keeping secrets, wasn’t he?

Even if it was just the hunger in his belly, it was something he was keeping from Iris.

The deal demanded loyalty. Painfully vague.

What was loyalty to the deal? Could he even stay quiet about this? Would the deal’s magic force him to reveal it?

He wished he was in the position to negotiate when he accepted the terms.

“Ready to go?” asked Mistress.

Kit nodded. 

There wasn’t a painful jolt of magic, or a strong compulsion to blurt out his secret, but a warning pricked at the back of his mind.

The deal’s magic had decided it wasn’t betrayal. Probably because he had permission to eat, and Iris hadn’t told him to tell her when he ate.

Still. He was on thin ice.

Kit bit his lip as they passed the royal portraits on the wall.

Maybe he’d tell her. Eventually.

taglist: @paintedpigeon1 @cupcakes-and-pain @loserwithsyle @cepheusgalaxy @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @virtualbreadtale

#if you're wondering: Brennan is day shift and Maxus is night #Not always but usually #when there's a lot going on scheduled in court both of them will show up #and they sometimes switch shifts if something comes up in their personal lives #and they do get days off and vacations #but theyre very much in Iris's inner circle of guards #my writing #whump #slavery whump #moonflower series #fae whumpee #royal caretaker