#like the three of them really loved each other and it all went to shit

[arminsumi]

DO IT RIGHT — 五夏

SatoSugu ⋅ fem reader

🔞 suggestive / partly n.sfw

SUMMARY — Suguru and Satoru each have their own differing ideas of what makes a good make out session.

WARNINGS — make outs n kissing, SatoSugu, jealousy, light angst, they fight over u, lovably annoying gojo, calling you sl*t playfully, "dirty girl" n maybe other nicknames, smidge of sexual tension/undertones ig

WORDCOUNT — 2.4k

TAGS for the lovelies !! 💗

@buttercupmuffins

" Slow and sensual; that's how it's supposed to be done, Satoru. You rush your kisses. You're too chaotic. "

" Yuh but I get more bitches than y — "

" — when was the last time you kissed a woman ? "

" Junior high. "

Suguru started cackling. The two of them were sat in your living room apartment. You peered at them from over your computer, the blue light glaring in your eyes.

" What the fuck are you two on about ? " you asked, taking your earphones out completely and halting the progress of your essay.

" None of your business. "

You sighed in response. That was such an expected response from Satoru.

" We were debating what makes a good make out session. You know, like ' fast or slow ' ? ' Chaotic or sensual ' ? Mister six eyes over here has opposition to my beliefs as usual — don't fuckin' wink at me, you freak. "

Satoru giggled. " Of course, 'cause your beliefs are flawed and quite frankly you're full of shit. Blech. Hey, you agree, don't you ? "

You looked up in thought for yourself.

" I don't know. See, chaotic movie-like kisses are something lots of people want. But then again, lots of people prefer slow and romantic kisses. They really want to intertwine bodies with their lover and — "

Suguru completed your thought.

" — and become one with each other. Yeah, you get me. "

" Hey now, I'm not saying I agree with either of you. I haven't even kissed one of you. Maybe you're both shit at kissing, now that I think 'bout it. Haha. " you chuckled to yourself.

The boys raised their brows at you. Ah, a common ground; both taking offense from you.

" Why don't you come over here 'n experiment with us, princess ? " Suguru murmured condescendingly. His earrings caught your eye.

Your stomach dropped. " Huh ? " you blinked dumbly.

" Don't get all coy with us now. Come over here. " Suguru teased.

Satoru arched a brow at you and smirked. " Yeah, come. You can help us settle this debate. "

" Mhm. " Suguru nodded.

You were reluctant, because... well, this could fuck up the friendship, right? They didn't seem to mind that, as they entrapped you between their bodies and kept you there. Imprisoned between their competing passion.

" Me first ? "

" Uh, no way, asshole. Me first. "

" I'll choose. "

" Nah, let's flip a coin. "

So they flipped a coin at Satoru's insistence.

" Call it. " Suguru said.

" Heads. " Satoru called.

You observed Suguru's attractive, veiny hands as he tossed the coin and caught it, smacking it onto the back of his hand.

" . . . heads. " Suguru groaned.

" Yay . . . smooches for Satoru. " Satoru cheered.

" You're so cringe. " you said, crinkling your nose.

" Shut up or I'll stick my tongue down your throat — "

" — you mean you weren't planning to do that ? What a pity. I like French kissing. " you teased.

That caught the boys attention. They exchanged a look, and now a tension built up between you three.

" Okay, if you want me to, then I will. " Satoru tried to remain confident, but the idea of French kissing you was destroying his cool composure.

" I want you to. So get to it, boy. " you said.

Suguru raised his brows at Satoru and smirked. He sat to your left, long leg propped along the edge of the couch, encasing you there.

Just before Satoru leaned in to kiss you, swift and cheeky as he was, Suguru interrupted with a quick, teacher-like stutter.

" Hey, nonono. We're setting a timer. Five minutes each, precisely. "

" Of course. " Satoru rolled his eyes. " Well hurry up then. "

" Impatient much ? " you chuckled under your breath. Satoru went a bit red.

The split second Suguru started the timer on his phone, Satoru engulfed you in a kiss that nearly knocked the wind out of you. He was chaotic. Feverish. Gliding those candied lips across yours was up there with the best decisions he's ever made.

He tilted his head into the kiss, tongue swiping and slipping in eagerly to play with yours. And with how he French kissed, you almost wanted to giggle; he was so playful.

Suguru watched. And observed. And thought about how he's going to win you over with his approach to kissing. What you needed, he thought while seeing how Satoru whimpered into your mouth, was a sensual man who takes his time.

" Time's up. "

" What the fu- "

A string of saliva connected you and Satoru, his lips felt tingly and he still wanted more even after devouring you.

" Five minutes go by so quick . . . "

" Uh-huh. When you're having fun. Sooo ? " Satoru looked at you expectantly.

" Rather hold back your judgment until you've tasted me, hm ? " Suguru stopped you before you made any comment on his best friend's kissing style. " Come on. Come closer. I don't bite. " he said, making the last part sound so sultry that a shiver ran down your spin.

Now Suguru . . . oh boy, Suguru. How he kissed. You were already dizzy from Satoru's fervor. But Suguru ? One little peck at your chin to test. Then he pressed teasing, leadup kisses to the corner of your lips.

" Su — " he muffled your call of his name with his lips, drinking up the rest of the syllables like a thirsty wolf.

His big hands molded to the back of your head, tangling up into your hair. Tilt tilt tilt. Press. Such a deep and hard kiss. You felt like your perception of reality got fucked up a little for a moment there.

He swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, wetting it, and once you opened your mouth for him he just smirked at your acceptance. In his mind, he was aiming to kiss you like he was converting you. Damn near kissed like a cult leader, you don't know why but you thought of that description right then.

That buttery soft tongue made you moan. The sound caught both the boy's off-guard.

And then the poor white-haired boy started glaring.

" Okay, okay, time's basically up. "

" Hmmmf ? " you looked dazed.

" How much time was left before you just cancelled that ? " Suguru squinted annoyedly at his best friend, hands still keeping you in place. His lips were barely parted from yours, so every shake of subtle anger in his vocals vibrated subtly across your lips.

" I dunno, fifty-two seconds ? "

" That's almost a whole minute left you asshole ! "

" Yeah so ?! You gonna fight me over it, big boy ? " Satoru challenged.

" What are you getting so jealous for ? "

You widened your eyes at the argument springing to life. The air felt so tense and hot. You could feel their heats radiating from their faces as they flushed from anger.

" What are you kissing her so deeply for ? Are you trying to fucking prove something ? "

" Oooooooh, pretty boy is jealous jealous. " Suguru said venomously.

" Boys, please don't fight. This is not such a big deal. " your voice came in between them.

They looked at you bitterly.

" Whose kiss did you like better ? " Satoru asked.

" Mine. No offence, but Satoru you kiss like a fucking high schooler. "

Satoru clenched his jaw. " I was asking her — not you, Suguru, baby. "

Oh he's angry angry you thought. Satoru always used nicknames with people he liked, but when the word baby came out of his mouth in that tone? God have mercy on whoever's on the receiving end. Unless it was someone who could match that intensity...

" I'll tell you what I liked and disliked about both of you . . . to be fair. Okay ? How's that sound, boys ? "

God they loved it when you called them like that. Yeah, they're your boys alright. They loved being your boys.

" Okay . . . sure. That's fair. Go ahead. " Suguru said. A small nervousness crept across his chest, but he hid it well.

You paused for just a moment to collect your thoughts.

" Damn just spill already ! "

" Let her think, Satoru. Impatient bitch. "

" I will fucking bite you. "

" Then bite me. "

" Boys. Calm down. "

So they listened. Your word was supreme, after all. If you told them to stop, they stopped.

You tilted your head and slowly began laying the truth on them. " I liked the way you held the back of my head so possessively, it was really hot . . . " you told, directing at Suguru.

Satoru grimaced. Why didn't he do that? He was mentally kicking himself.

" . . . but I preferred how dramatically you kissed me. " you directed to the sulking white-haired boy. Then his features lightened a bit.

" And ? " Suguru encouraged, eager to hear more praises.

They leaned in very close for the fact they were just listening to you speak.

" I didn't like how sloppy and wet Satoru was. "

Satoru cringed at himself. He was very self-conscious about being a sloppy kisser.

" Haha, sloppy kisser. "

" Suguru shut the fuck up. "

You quickly turned down the heat between them and knocked Suguru off his high horse.

" You're a bit of a show-off kisser, not as romantic as I imagined you to be. It feels like you were trying too hard to win me over, or something. "

Oh, he hated that you could deduce that. He really thought he had you.

" Fair enough . . . " it was his turn to sulk.

Satoru smirked. " So you prefer me ? " he winked, " I mean, of course you do. "

" No. I like both of you. "

" Okay, slut. " Satoru rolled his eyes. " If you had to choose — "

" Don't worry about offending us, we can take it. "

" Yeah right, you're gonna fucking cry if she chooses me. " Satoru cheeked.

The tension rose between them again. But this time, there was this... oddly violent passion. Some sort of suppressed, stifled romanticness brewed between them. It's always underlined their conversations before, even their arguments. This indescribable, undeniable tension — not the jokingly " I'm so gay for my best friend " stuff. No, something genuine. Something that was not a joke.

" Why don't you kiss each other ? " you blurted out.

Satoru looked at you like you were crazy. " What the fuck ? "

" I mean, to make it fair . . . and get better insight into how the both of you kiss ? I-I don't know, just a thought. "

" Just a thought ? A horny thought I bet. " Satoru chuckled. He was going red in the face. And so was Suguru.

" What the hell. I'm innocent. " you defended.

" Riiight. "

Suguru had been thoughtfully quiet. Then he finally spoke.

" . . . I'm down. "

" WHAT. " Satoru freaked out. His face went completely red now. You could feel how hot he was.

" Yeah let's go for it. " Suguru shrugged.

He froze up. His heart palpitated. Stomach dropped. Eyes went blown wide open.

" I-I-I yeah ? Okay ? Sure. Yeah. Alright. Then. Let's. Do — it. "

" Wow, I don't think I've ever heard you stutter like this, Satoru. " you teased.

" Shut up ?! Shut up. Let's just do it and get it over with. "

" Yeah. Okay. Come here. "

" What the fu- you come here. "

Suguru raised his brows at him. " Seriously ? "

" I'm more dom than you. " Satoru said proudly. " Come here. "

" Nah, you come here. "

" No way ! "

You sighed. " Wow, this is going to take a while. "

" Nonono, we're doing it — " he kissed him, " — see ? "

" Satoru, such a cute peck. We're supposed to make out. That's what you want, right Y/n ? "

You stomach flipped. His tone. His damn tone. That cocky glint in his eyes. Suguru was so teasingly seductive right then.

" Y-yeah. For five minutes. Just like we did. "

" Okay. Set a timer. "

Satoru looked like he was shocked from how fast he just kissed his best friend. Such a short peck had his stomach doing loopies. You could tell he was going through a crisis.

" 'kay, timer's on. "

So they melted their lips against each other right in front of you. Satoru was stiff at first, but loosened up the deeper he fell into his best friend's kiss. More than that, he succumbed to the sultry feelings that Suguru radiated. You know, he just had that thing about him. That air. He was alluring and enticing, almost dangerously so at times.

You listened. Watched. Glanced down at the timer. Really, you set a stopwatch, not a timer. A little experiment. You wanted to see how long they'd take to realize how long they've been kissing for.

And it's well over five minutes. Lips smacking, heads tilting, bodies coming closer. Suguru's bangs brushing over Satoru's cheeks, hands cupping his flushed cheeks. What a sight. Two pretty best friends going breathless over each other.

" 'how long's it been ? " Satoru mumbles in between kisses, totally in a dazed state.

You hide your smirk. " Just a bit left. "

Suguru gave you a suspicious side eye. Oh, butterflies. He caught onto you right then.

He thought;

Well if you want us to put on a show, we'll put on a show. Just for you.

And dipped his tongue between Satoru's parted lips, erotically swirling around — slow, sensual, languid.

" ahmmm ~ " Satoru almost made a noise close to a moan, and then got embarrassed.

You gulped and watched. Did they forget they were doing this in front of you? Your face was right there.

You stared hard.

Suguru smirked and parted from the kiss, holding the face of a dazed-looking Satoru in the palms of his hands as he spoke to you.

" Did you even set a timer ? Ah, whatever. Stop staring, dirty girl. Come join the fun. Three's company, you know ? "

#五夏 #mdni #it's spicy #gojo #geto #love triangle #gojo x geto #gojo x geto x you #gojo x geto x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fic #gojo fic #satoru gojo x you #satoru smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru #jujutsu kaisen

[stuckinapril]

what red flags should i look for in a man?

I actually feel like I’m a good person to ask this question, not bc I’ve had a long healthy relationship or anything, but bc I’ve humored walking red flags way more than I should’ve lmao. Btw this list doesn’t go for just men. It can apply to man, woman, or any human being across the board. Ok so:

When someone tells you they’re not ready for a relationship, BELIEVE THEM. Idc what the reason is. Idc if it’s bc they aren’t that into you or if they have shit going on. They just told u straight up. Appreciate that and just leave. Please. For me.

Piggybacking off that point—listen to people when they tell you who they are in general!!! This was a major 2023 lesson for me. People self-report all the time, whether it be friends or romantic interests. Most people are legitimately incapable of hiding who they really are. Pay attention. Do not ignore the signs, however small. I could’ve saved myself so much trouble if I didn’t just pretend Not to See.

Not consoling you when you need it because “they’re not good with emotions.” This is just an excuse for being lazy. They just don’t wanna put the work into being there for you properly—especially if you’ve already gone through the trouble of communicating this to them.

People who talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. Actions over words. Actions over words always.

Fuck overextended talking stages. If you wanna know more about me, let’s plan something in person. Otherwise you run the risk of getting attached to someone who’s possibly nothing like how they actually are in front of you.

If you’re having to “communicate” extensively with a person like a month in, as in there are lots of miscommunications and misunderstandings and things you don’t like about them or they don’t like about you, I’d probably just drop it. I learned this the hard way last year after burning through a lot of friendships where I found that we didn’t know each other that long at all, but there was already a plethora of problems to work through. This can apply to relationships just as well. If you’re asking a person to change this early in, or they’re asking you to change this early in, it’s probably just not a match.

Mostly talking about themselves. Not asking you anything about yourself in return. Ew.

It takes months to actually know a person’s true nature. That’s typically around the time people start showing their true colors. Ik a lot of people choose to commit like a month in, so just take that as u will.

Fucking competing with you. People who’re incapable of just being happy for other people without inserting themselves into it are insufferable. Immediate next.

This isn’t conscious behavior, and all of us are guilty of it, but people have an innate habit of taking advantage of your fantasies. If they know you’re desperate for their attention, they’ll get lazy (even if they don’t realize it). If they know they’re the object of your desire, they will leverage that to get your benefits without putting in the work. This is like playing cards and immediately showing someone your hand. Do not do that. This isn’t “playing hard to get”—it’s just guarding yourself until you’re sure you can trust the other person.

Not always the case, but a lot of times the way someone’s last relationship ended is pretty telling for how yours will go. ESPECIALLY if they’re not at all remorseful about how the last one went down, lol. You’re not the exception.

People are busy and taking a while to respond is O.K., but if it’s a continuous pattern of them taking forever to reply, it’s probably just a matter of priorities (and you’re not theirs). Sorry.

Pls take the ego out of the talking stage and recognize that love bombing is not flattering. I’ve reprogrammed my brain to where any time someone is doing way too much like three seconds in, I get the ick. I’ve legit dropped guys over this. It’s such a red flag to me. They either don’t have a life, or just are a natural love bomber (who will overwhelm you w compliments and attention only to fizzle out just as quickly), or they know exactly what they’re doing and they’re playing to your ego. Whichever it is, ick. Big ick.

The way they talk about other people is a major tell. This goes for friends and romantic interests. I think a bit of gossip will always be unavoidable, but if someone is liberally trash-talking other people—ESPECIALLY EX-FRIENDS OR EX-PARTNERS—you could literally be next. Anyone who thrives off badmouthing other people / hating on others / just generally not giving others grace doesn’t have exceptions. You’re their focus for now. It could just as easily be you tomorrow.

#it’s fucking rough out there. take care #ask #r

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Could you do a part two for whipped but like it is after the baby is born and we see Miguel hold a meeting but he has to take care of his kids cause mama is having her self care day and like he has the baby strapped on to him as their daughter climbs and runs around. And what if the baby is like a mini miguel and does similar faces or interrupts him with their own babbling!

AWWW. Part 1-

Whipped pt 2

“Uh, yeah, yeah, it’s fine, but I really have gotta start a meeting today-“ he said, when you asked him to watch both the baby and your daughter.

“Just take them with. Or get someone else to watch them.” You said, as you put on your shoes.

“Alright. Yeah. I got it. I’ll see you later. Have fun.” He said, not wanting to make you upset. You deserved a day off, especially from the baby. Your 6 month old baby had been annoying you, a lot. He could tell, no matter how much you tried to put on a front.

“I love you.” You kissed him, your daughter said ew to the both of you, you laughed and walked out the door.

“Alright, guys. C’mon.” He said, holding the baby as he looked back at your daughter.

He opened up a portal, your daughter going first, and then Miguel and the baby.

“Wow! They’re so grown up.” Lyla said, appearing out of no where and looking at them.

“Yeah, yeah, is everyone in the meeting room?”

“Everyone but Hobie.”

“Of course.” Miguel mumbled.

“I wanted to go over everyone’s performance.” He stated, still holding the baby. Your guy’s daughter was looking around and running around the large room.

“Ignore my children…” he said, embarrassed slightly.

“Anyways, mostly all of you have been doing great. Except for Hobie.. who’s never at these meeting. We have some new recruits, and I hope that you’ll all accept th-“

The baby started to babble, and someone snickered. Then he made a face that looked too similar to Miguel. Three people laughed at that.

“Anyways, as I was saying-“

“Bah-bah. Bah-bah.” He started to flail around in his arms.

“Okay, okay. Can you hold your brother for a second?” He looked at your daughter.

“Sure…” she said, and held him while they spoke nonsense to each other.

He talked for a while, and then finally

“Finally, if I see one more person miss a meeting, unless your dead or dying, you’re off the damn team. And quit eating on missions! You can do that after, can you not?”

They all nodded and packed up their stuff, leaving.

“Fucking Hobie.” He mumbled, when he saw both his daughters leave to go to the man.

“Uncle Hobie!” Your daughter said, going up to him.

“Hey!! There’s my favorite people. You both are so big now!” He looked at the baby in her arms.

“I know! Mama says that soon enough-“ she went on and on. Hobie laughing and smiling as she talked.

“Hobie.” Miguel said.

Hobie looked at him as he picked up his baby from his daughters arms.

“If you miss another meeting, you’re out.” Miguel said.

“Fine by me.” He shrugged, and continued to play with the baby, who really liked him.

“Alright, I’ll see you both later.” Hobie said, when Miguel grew impatient.

“C’mon.” Miguel said, baby in his hands as your daughter followed.

—————————————————————

“How was work? Were they good?” You asked when you both finally got to lay down.

“It was.. alright. They were fine.” He said, looking at you as you changed.

“That’s good.” You smiled.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Well, maybe you could take them next time too.” You joked.

He laughed “If it means that you’re not mad every time I come home, gladly.”

“I’m not mad when you come home!”

“Yea you are.”

You feigned offense. “Oh shut up.” You hit his chest.

He laughed again. Then he realized. ‘Oh shit. Peter was right. I am whipped.’

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #oscar issac x reader #oscar isaac #spider man across the spider verse

[celestialwhoree]

🪐🩷

I write sm of Simon with like super cutie patootie sweet softie gf's and today is not one of those days!! What about Si with a sassy, snarky spitfire of a partner.

He's kind of always thought that he'd want some soft, gentle, domestic partner to offset the general frustration and struggle of his work life. Some bird in a frilly apron to coo and preen at him like a wounded puppy.

And then he meets her.

She's some intelligence officer brought on by Laswell in hopes of attaining information on targets before missions to keep things running that little bit smoother.

She's had to not only survive, but thrive in a cutthroat mans world industry for years, and she takes not one single ounce of shit from anyone.

Price will occasionally (and very much unintentionally) simplify things for her in mission briefings and she just kind of sits there with arms crossed and a raised eyebrow until he gets the memo that he doesn't need to baby her.

She never has to actually go out into the field, so whilst the guys are all training in the gym, she sits and plays games on her phone or reads some smutty romance novels.

She didn't expect to fall flat on her ass for Simon Riley, but something about how quiet and level headed he is makes her very much metaphorically swoon.

He knows it, obviously. He's observant as fuck. He sees the way she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth when she has to crane her neck in order to look up at him, or when he casually helps her with boxes of files and she shifts bashfully from foot to foot, trying not to ogle his biceps.

When they start dating, she's not even afraid of the others finding out because they're too scared of her to tease the two of them.

They move in together and she designates the guest room for all of his man stuff, only to find out that he has like three personal items and some chargers. "The fuck you mean you don't have an ugly PC?! You're a guy?" He's so confused at her confusion until later in their relationships when she tells him that all of her past partners were kind of (major) dicks and that's why she didn't really date anymore, until she met him of course.

She tries really really hard to hide when she cries before he goes off on deployment, and works ten times harder to find useful information that will increase his chance of getting home to her safe.

He buys her really sentimental presents and she tries to hide how touched she is by calling him the softie even though she shamefully piles all of his clothes on the bed with her when he's away because she misses him so much.

She buys him a dog in secret on the same day that he comes home with a cat for her and they just sort of stand there in their front entrance like that Spiderman meme where they all point at each other.

The dog and cat love each other, almost as unlikely a pair as their owners.

She and Simon go into work one day and she's got a unique, delicate little ring on her left ring finger and the guys are like 😦"You got married and didn't invite us?" "No you fucking plebs we got engaged."

Never did anyone think they'd see the day where Simon Riley got engaged and thought about settling down.

They also thought the two of them hated each other until Simon casually is like "Oh, yeah no she and I went to this great place the other night. Good steaks."

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #tf 141 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley x f!reader #Simon ghost Riley x yn #Simon Riley x reader #simon riley x f!reader #Simon Riley x yn #Simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost x y/n #ghost mw2 #simon riley x you #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley cod #ghost call of duty #cod ghost #cod #cod simon riley #ghost #call of duty #celestialwhoree #ghost riley

[avatar-anna]

I was thinking you could do a “5 times y/n told Harry she was pregnant” for the young!dad series !! That would be so interesting especially since in the last piece you mentioned that Harry already had a feeling she was pregnant before she even told him

The Thing About Having Six Kids

so i got this ask and a couple others that were kind of about the kids' birth/pregnancy a while ago, and went with five different instances about each kid in the youngdadrry universe. it's all surrounding their birth, finding out about pregnancies, etc. enjoy!

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

Simone

(a text conversation between Harry and Y/n)

Y/n: i'm pregnant

(one day later)

Y/n: Harry?

Harry: Are you sure?

Y/n: i'm sure

Y/n: i have four different pregnancy tests to prove it

Harry: I don't know what to say.

Y/n: the 24 hours it took you to respond kind of told me that

Harry: I'm sorry about that. It's just...a lot

Y/n: it's fine i guess. at least you finally responded.

Harry: Did you think I wouldn't?

Y/n: honestly? yeah. it's not like we're married or in love or anything. you don't even live in the same country as me

Harry: What are you going to do?

Harry: I know but I wouldn't just like disappear on you

Harry: I was just shocked that's all

Y/n: idk. i'm still trying to figure out a way to tell my parents

Harry: Shit my parents!

Y/n: that's kinda where i'm at right now

Y/n: but i think i want to keep it

Y/n: the baby

Y/n: fuck that sounds crazy to say. i have physics homework due tomorrow but let me stop and make a life altering decision really quick about whether i want to have a baby or not

Harry: I'm sorry. You know...

Y/n: for getting me pregnant? knocking me up? putting a bun in the oven?

Harry: It seems too early to joke about this

Y/n: it's keeping me from freaking the fuck out at the moment

(ten minutes later)

Harry: I want to talk about this properly and figure this whole thing out but I have to go

Y/n: please don't feel obligated or anything. this was just a courtesy

Y/n: i don't expect anything from you. i get it if your management wants you to delete my number and never see me again. i just thought you should know.

Harry: What are you talking about?

Harry: Y/n?

3 missed calls from Him <3

Collette

"Let's have another baby."

Y/n was close to nodding off, so it was very possible that she was dreaming. She looked behind her. It was dark in the bedroom, but Harry was close enough that she could see him, could see that his head was propped on his elbow so he could look down at her.

"What did you say?" she asked, because she needed to be sure.

"I...I want another baby," he said, voice soft even though they were the only two people in the room. Simone was fast asleep in her own bedroom, tuckered out after a long day of playing at the park and eating ice cream and fingerpainting with Harry. Now that One Direction was officially on hiatus, it was just the three of them—Y/n, Harry, and Simone. Y/n thought it would take some getting used to, living a relatively normal life. But their little family actually fell into it quite easily.

Perhaps a little too easily.

"Say something."

Y/n hadn't realized she failed to respond, but to be fair, that was a pretty big bomb her husband just dropped. Her husband. They'd been married for a few months now, but it still felt surreal, which was probably why the idea of having another baby felt too far from reality to comprehend.

"I just...I don't know what to say," Y/n said honestly. "I—I'm not sure we're ready for that."

"We weren't ready the first time," Harry said when Y/n finally flipped on her other side to face him. This seemed like a conversation he really wanted to have, so she thought facing him would probably be best. "I just think this might be the time, you know? I don't have an insane schedule anymore, there's no more management to say that we can't, and I've always thought about giving Simone a sibling. Don't tell me you've never thought about it."

"I...I have," Y/n said.

She did think about more kids. As young as she and Harry were and as impossible as their relationship seemed at times, Y/n couldn't help but think about wanting more. She loved Harry, and she'd been loving these moments they'd been able to share as a proper family recently. Harry was right, if they wanted to have another baby, now would be the time.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he said as she felt more than saw his hand push some hair away from her face.

"What happens when you start working again?" Y/n asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I know you, H," she said. "And I love you. Everything about you. And one of the parts that make you who you are is the music. This...this little bubble we're in, I love it too, but I know you'll want to go back to it someday. And then you'll go on tour for ten months, and I'll be alone to raise two kids by myself for a majority of the year."

It was harsh, but she trusted him enough to take it. This was the thought that always held her back. Y/n thought about the possibility of expanding their family on more than one occasion, especially in recent weeks when things have been practically perfect. But the reality was that Harry would want to go back to work. She knew, maybe better than anyone, the desire he had to make his own music, to create and write in ways he couldn't while in the band. And perform. Harry loved to perform live. Y/n knew that this time spent with just their family was fleeting, and she cherished every minute of it, the same way she knew Harry did. It was only a matter of time before he went back to work, and she wasn't sure she could raise Simone and a newborn without him.

"That's...That's all over now," Harry said. When Y/n tried to protest, he continued on. "What I meant to say was, the ridiculous schedules, the strict rules about when we can and can't spend time together, the separate hotel rooms. Mama, things can be different now."

"But management—"

"I bought out my contract," he said. "I haven't really given it much thought in a while because I just want to be present with you and Simone, but I've got a few people in mind for new managers. People who will prioritize our family."

This was certainly news to Y/n. It was hard to talk about Harry's management or the harsh thumb they pinned him under, so oftentimes it was a topic they avoided. Hearing him say this now, knowing how much money it would've taken to buy out his contract...that was a huge deal. As far as she knew, the other boys were just sticking with it until the contracts were finished. But Harry went and did what Y/n didn't even think was possible.

"Our family," Y/n repeated, and for a moment, she could see it. The three of them becoming four. It was crazy to think about, to think so far ahead into the future, but Y/n wasn't scared by it.

"Let's have another baby," Harry said again.

Looking at him, Y/n's heart squeezed in her chest. He'd been growing his hair out for a while now, and it was long enough that it reached just passed his shoulders. She loved it, thought it made him look older, more mature. And okay, hot. And Simone loved it too. She loved braiding it and putting bows and flowers in it or just twisting it around her finger. His shoulders were broad and lean, though he'd put on a little muscle in his arms from doing handiwork around the house, something he claimed he loved to do even though Y/n had heard him curse from another room while he worked on his latest project.

She looked at his face, the one that looked so different yet so similar to the one she'd met when she was seventeen. She wondered what those teenagers would think of the people they'd become, of the things they'd seen and experienced.

She thought about it. The baby-to-be. It would have Harry's eyes and smile, her nose and hair color. If it was a girl, she could wear matching outfits with Simone, if it was a boy...Well, they could maybe still match. Y/n thought about all the baby clothes—the adorable little onesies and shoes and mittens to keep the baby from scratching their face while they slept. She didn't let herself think of the late nights and sore boobs and dirty diapers. In this moment, she just thought about all the good feelings, every perfect moment that could be.

"You promise things will be different? I can't—I can't do it alone," she said, needing to hear him say it again.

Harry didn't try to kiss her, he didn't put his hands on her waist or pull her to his chest—all tactics he would normally use to distract her. This conversation was too serious, too important, and she loved him all the more for understanding that.

"I promise, Y/n," he said, taking her hand in his and squeezing it. "I will never make you regret living this life with me."

"That's not what I—"

"I know, but I just...I needed to say it."

He needed to make that promise to her, to himself. Life had not been easy, and Y/n knew Harry blamed himself for a lot of the hardships they faced.

"I don't," she said, kissing their joined hands. "And I won't. Ever. "

Harry grinned, and Y/n could tell even in the dark that his gaze was a little watery. Still, he inched forward and said, "So...?"

Y/n leaned forward and kissed him, her leg slotting between his. "Let's have another baby."

Maeve and Jules

"I'm sorry, did you just say twins?"

"I did. I'm seeing two heartbeats here. See?" The doctor said, pointing at the monitor she'd been observing closely the last five minutes.

Y/n couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. It was one thing to be pregnant (again), but an entirely different one to be pregnant with twins. "That's—"

"Amazing," Harry breathed.

Y/n turned her head away from the monitor to look at her husband, whose eyes were glued to the screen with a look of wonder in them. As she'd begun to process her own feelings about housing not one but two babies in her belly for nine months, she hadn't really considered how he might feel about it.

Looking at him now, she could tell he was ecstatic.

Y/n was still panicking a little, but seeing the elation on Harry's face was comforting. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it hard, needing to feel the warmth of his palm to ground her.

"Hey," he said softly, bending down to kiss the top of her head. "This is a good thing. Unexpected, but good."

"I know," Y/n said, letting out a shaky breath. "I know it's just...a lot. I mean...twins?"

"Nothing we can't handle," Harry said, kissing her cheek.

His confidence was reassuring. Maybe he was freaking out on the inside and not letting it show for her sake, but Y/n felt better about the situation at hand and was ready to continue with the appointment.

To the doctor, she said, "Are they healthy?"

The doctor smiled warmly. "They are. It looks like one of them is about a week behind, but that's nothing to worry about."

"Really? They're twins. That doesn't seem possible," Harry said, his brow furrowing adorably.

"It's rare, but it is possible. Fraternal twins can be conceived as much as twenty-four days apart," the doctor said.

Y/n understood perhaps a split-second before Harry, but when he did, he turned as beet red as she felt. The doctor didn't seem to mind their embarrassment, though she'd probably seen all sorts of couples and situations. Y/n imagined there wasn't much that the doctor hadn't seen before.

The appointment wrapped up pretty quickly after that. Harry snuck out of the hospital through a separate door while Y/n set up her next appointment. She met him in the staff parking lot, where he was standing by the passenger door to help her in. Harry gave her a quick kiss before closing her in and walking around to the driver's side. As he drove, Y/n was thinking about a number of things—twice the amount of clothes, twice the amount of crying, twice the amount of diaper changes. She was excited at the prospect of having a baby. It was a conversation she and Harry had before they started trying, but the idea of twins was a lot to wrap her head around.

She looked at Harry, wanting to ask how he felt now that they were alone, but she stopped herself.

Harry had one hand on the steering wheel, the other covering a wide grin. He was blushing a little too, and Y/n couldn't help but ask what had him smiling like an idiot.

"I'm trying to figure out which times," he said.

"What do you mean which—Are you kidding? Which times we conceived the twins?"

"Aren't you curious?" Harry asked. "Twice, babe. I put a baby in you twice. I mean, one of them had to be when we were on the yacht, right? I always feel good after we have sex, but I feel like we really outdid ourselves there. Clearly."

Y/n just looked at her husband in shock. "You are..."

"What? It's cool!" Harry insisted, but he was laughing too. "And it takes the edge off a little. Come on, you try."

So he was more nervous than he was letting on. That was comforting in its own way too, but Y/n appreciated his attempts to lighten the mood. They could have a serious conversation later, but for now it was fun to just forget all of that. Just for a moment.

Y/n gave him a dry look, trying to appear like she wasn't impressed until she eventually rolled her eyes and smiled. "Mm...I agree with the yacht, and...when you came back from London."

"Really?" Harry asked, more curious than surprised.

"Yeah," Y/n said with a little sigh as she remembered the night in question. "That was a good night."

It was one of those rare occurrences where Simone was in her own bed and Collette managed to sleep for more than a couple hours. They'd spent the whole night catching up and giggling like idiots and kissing and enjoying the pleasure of being truly alone with each other. Y/n loved those moments with Harry, where everything was just so simple and easy and it was just them having a little fun. They definitely should've been catching up on sleep while they could, but neither of them wanted to, so they stayed up with tired smiles and slurred movements until they heard Collette's cries through the baby monitor.

"It was. We should do that again sometime," Harry said. Taking Y/n's hand, he kissed the tops of her knuckles.

"You just want to go for triplets," Y/n teased, even though she knew that wasn't what he meant.

"I'm not that crazy," he said, but his smile told her he was thinking about the possibility. Maybe just a little. "I'm excited for this."

"Yeah? What do you think? Boys? Girls? A boy and a girl?"

Harry shrugged. "Our track record would suggest girls, but..."

"You never know," Y/n finished for him.

Geneva

"We have some pretty big news to share."

Once a month, the Styles family held a Zoom call with their friends and family who were scattered across the globe. Since lockdown began, there was a lot of adjusting—online school, not being able to go to the park to play, being at home all day. It was a lot for everyone, but Harry and Y/n did their best to make the adjustments smoother. And when they needed a break, they set up the monthly Zoom calls.

They were mostly just to catch up. Once all the children went to sleep, Harry and Y/n stayed up late talking to other adults about everything and nothing, maybe even played a different drinking game or two to round out the night before they went back to being parents. Tonight was a special night, though.

Multiple faces looked at Harry and Y/n expectantly through their computer screen. Both of them were sporting big smiles as Y/n leaned on Harry's side, one of his older sweatshirts covering her body and the almost imperceptible bump that was beginning to show now. Today was the first day she'd begun to show, and Harry nearly lost his mind with excitement. Finding out Y/n was pregnant had been somewhat of a surprise, but when she told him, he was over the moon. He's started to suspect, having recognized some of his wife's symptoms by now, but they'd been waiting for the right time to tell their families and friends, and tonight was the night.

"What's going on, darling?" Anne asked.

Neither Harry nor Y/n could barely contain their excitement, which probably gave away the news before they actually said anything. However, in their own eagerness to share the news, neither of them saw a few people on the call sporting knowing looks.

"We're having a baby!"

Cheers went all around as everyone congratulated the couple. Questions were asked about due dates and how far along they were and what they were going to do about the lockdown situation. Everything was just as Harry had hoped it would be.

And then things took an interesting turn.

"Who won?" Jeff asked.

"Won? What do you mean—"

"If my math is correct, which I'm pretty sure it is, I believe it goes to Gem," Sarah said, looking down at her phone. "She went with three and a half months. Glenne narrowly missed with three. No one had four so it goes to Gemma."

A collective groan went throughout the Zoom, leaving Harry and Y/n very confused.

"Did you place bets on us?" Y/n asked, sounding more astonished than offended.

"When lockdown became permanent, we knew it was a matter of when not if we would be getting the announcement," Jeff explained. "Someone has a physical copy of the pool somewhere."

"And all of you did this? Mum?" Harry said, brows raised higher than Y/n had ever seen them. When Anne nodded sheepishly, Y/n had to stifle a laugh. "So none of you were surprised?"

"I love you, dear, and I'm so so happy for you, but since you were seventeen, anytime you've come to me with big news, it's been about having a baby. For my own sanity, I've just come to expect it."

Harry looked down at Y/n, who was grinning behind her hand. For her husband's sake, her gaze softened as she reached up to kiss his cheek. "I mean, they have a point. Even you guessed it before I told you."

As the shock finally wore off, Harry smiled. He supposed it wasn't the worst thing in the world. So, he and Y/n were predictable, even though they hadn't really been trying this time around. They were in love and had a lot more time together currently. Things were finally back on track for them and their relationship troubles seemed behind them now. They were happy, and as long as his family was happy, some light teasing and bet placing seemed harmless.

He did pin everyone on the screen with a mock glare before moving on, though. "You guys made a whole pool. Really?"

"Yeah. Can you believe Jeff thought it would take eight months for you to get pregnant?"

"It was for the adjustment to lockdown period!"

"Eight months?"

And on and on it went. Harry just smiled and rested his hand over Y/n's belly, thinking about how much it would grow in just a few short weeks.

Natalia

"I want Mommy!"

Harry sighed and pulled his only son into his lap, pushing the curls away from his face and wiping the tears from his cheeks. "I know you do, JuJu."

Harry and the kids were waiting to hear from Y/n's mother, but he hadn't gotten so much as a text. He was anxious, worried that something was wrong, but Julian's crying served as a good distraction for the time being.

Julian continued to cry, still not understanding why he couldn't see his mother when he'd become so used to seeing her everyday. Harry would've been with Y/n had it not been for the little boy's crying, and he made the split-second decision to stay home while Y/n delivered the baby with her mother as support. He'd never missed any of his children's births, but for this, he could stay behind.

"She'll be back soon, bubba, I promise," Harry said, kissing Julian's cheeks and holding him close. "Should we go play with your Lego set? I know you've been excited to build it. Maybe we can build something to show Mummy when she gets home."

Julian shook his head and continued to cry into Harry's neck. Realizing his son was content to be miserable, Harry didn't ask again. He sat with Jules for a while, holding the boy to his chest and running a hand through his hair until his sobs turned into sniffles, and the sniffles into long, slow breaths. He waited a few extra minutes before taking Julian up to his room and setting him on his bed, making sure to place his favorite stuffed animal in his arms before leaving him to sleep off his troubles. As he walked away, Harry sort of wished he could do the same.

Every birth had been different. When Y/n had Simone, it hadn't been extraordinarily long, but it was extraordinarily stressful due to their young age. Collette was a fairly quick birth, perhaps a little too quick, seeing as Y/n barely made it to a hospital bed before the baby started crowning. The twins came early, which was apparently common for twins, but that didn't make it any less surprising to Harry and Y/n, especially because Harry was at the grocery store and Y/n was at the park with Simone and Collette and a nanny who was also there had to call an ambulance. Even still, Geneva's birth was probably the scariest, only because of all the rules and regulations brought on by Covid. Y/n's mother quarantined for two weeks so she could stay at the house while Harry and Y/n went to the hospital, as Y/n could only have one person in the room with her.

And now a year later, they were doing it all over again. Harry had been confident that this birth would go off without a hitch, that everything would be just fine, but the lack of word from his wife or mother-in-law made him nervous.

Later that day, Harry was still waiting. He'd gotten a text from Y/n's mother, which let him know that Y/n still wasn't ready to push but that they were getting close. That was an hour ago, and Harry had to believe that it was all happening now.

And he was missing it.

He knew being here with the rest of his children was important. That they were worried about their mother and probably found Harry's presence comforting. He just wished they could all be there in the waiting room instead of at home and fifteen minutes from the hospital. The not-knowing was killing him, and he was pretty sure his kids could sense it.

"Daddy?"

Harry's eyes flicked to where Collette was standing in the doorway of his bedroom. She was in her pajamas, a shirt and matching pair of bottoms with her favorite cartoon on them. Harry had been pacing around his room, his phone gripped tightly in his hand as he waited for someone to call him, but seeing his second daughter standing there, squinting at the light from his bedside table lamp told him he was up a little later than normal.

"Hi, peanut. What are you doing out of bed?" he asked.

Collette shrugged, her hair catching the light. She wiped at her nose and stepped further into the room until she stood in front of him. "Mommy always braids my hair before I go to sleep."

"She does, doesn't she?" Harry agreed. "She's kind of the best, huh?"

Nodding, Collette turned toward his bed and climbed up on it, looking at him expectantly. Even after having four daughters, Harry wasn't an expert at braiding hair. The girls always went to Y/n before school, and she did each of their braids or ponytails or pigtails happily. Harry always made sure to watch with a keen eye, and practiced on Y/n when she let him. He supposed now it was time to put all his practice to work.

The braiding didn't take long, and Harry didn't do half bad, in his humble opinion. Collette was just going to sleep in it anyway, so he wasn't too bummed by the few loose strands that he'd somehow missed.

He'd finished rather quickly, though Collette didn't slide off the bed to go back to her room. In fact, she nestled under the covers on Y/n's side of the bed, mumbling, "Night Daddy," before falling asleep. Harry didn't really mind. It wasn't the first time one of the kids stayed in his and Y/n's bed, and tonight, he figured he could use some company.

What he wasn't expecting was all of his children to stumble into his room. First it was Maeve, then Jules, then Simone, and finally Harry went to get Geneva, just so it was a proper sleepover. No one fought for space—which was a first. All the kids just found their spot and went back to sleep as if they were in their own rooms. Harry resisted the urge to take a picture so as not to wake anyone up with the flash of his phone's camera.

He hadn't planned on falling asleep. One moment he'd been watching a football game with the volume off, and the next he was blinking his eyes open as the sun began to stream in through the curtains. All of his little ones were still fast asleep, though Harry knew that would change soon. Maeve and Simone woke up early to watch morning cartoons, and Geneva would want her bottle within the hour.

Harry began to shuffle around and prepare for the usual morning routine—brush teeth, ok prepare the bottle, make breakfast for the early risers—when his phone rang. Startled, Harry rushed over to where his phone was plugged in, a huge grin splitting his face when he realized it was a video call from Y/n.

"Hi," Harry whispered, careful not to wake anyone up. "How are you? How's the baby? Is everything—"

"I'm fine, H. Everything's fine. Everything's perfect," Y/n said, a sleepy smile on her face.

Hearing that helped his heart stop racing, but only a little, as excitement flooded his veins. Y/n called him, which could only mean that—

"Wanna meet your daughter?" Y/n said, and even through the phone, Harry could see tears line her eyes.

Harry nodded, too overwhelmed with love and anticipation to form words. Quickly, he found an unoccupied spot on his bed and carefully sat down.

Y/n passed the phone to her mother who angled the phone so that Harry could see the baby, whose face was just barely visible through a pink blanket. He immediately felt tears well in his eyes, his throat going dry as he looked down at his daughter. Even through the phone, he felt every emotion he'd ever experienced when meeting his children for the first time. It was the most unique experience, Harry always thought. He'd seen and done so much, yet he still thought there was nothing like looking down at his newborn baby for the first time.

"Is that baby sister?"

Harry looked behind him to find Julian peering over his shoulder. Jules looked at the sleeping baby curiously, taking in his sister's little nose and tiny fingers and pouted lips. Then, he said, "Is Mommy there too?"

The camera panned up to Y/n, who was smiling and blowing kisses to Julian. "Hi JuJu, my love. I've missed you!"

"Mommy!"

"Mommy?"

"Mommy's home?"

Now everyone was up and crowding around Harry, taking turns talking to Y/n and baby sister, who had yet to be given a name. No one seemed to mind, though. If anything, they were more concerned about when Y/n and the baby would be coming home so they could have a party.

"Soon, my loves. The doctor wants me and the baby to stay one more night to make sure we're healthy. You think you can be good for Daddy?"

There was a chorus of yeses before everyone said their goodbyes, the novelty of a new baby sister wearing off when there were cartoons to be watched downstairs. Harry kept Y/n on the phone while he got Geneva's bottle ready, wanting to stay on the phone as long as possible.

"I know you must be tired," Harry said an hour later. He was in GiGi's nursery and watching her toddle around and play with her toys while talking to his wife.

"I'll hang up soon. I want you to get as much screen time as possible before I go," she said, turning the camera to where the baby was sleeping in the bassinet beside her hospital bed.

"Have you given her a name yet?" he asked.

Y/n shook her head. "I know we decided on one, but I wanted you to be with me when I said it for the first time."

"I love you," Harry said as his heart melted to mush.

"I love you too," Y/n said. She lifted the baby out of the bassinet, cradling her head with the expertise of someone who'd done it for years. Looking at Harry through the phone she said, "You wanna do the honors?"

Laughing out of pure bliss, he nodded. With all the tenderness and care he would've used if he'd been there in person, he said, "Welcome to this crazy, crazy world, Natalia Styles."

#harry styles #young dad! harry #young mom! reader #young dadrry #young parent!harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles x y/n

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Get It For You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Rafe is determined to make his angel's wants come true.

A/N: Inspired by this video.

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron is a loving and devoted boyfriend. He is always trying to provide for Y/N and get her everything she wants. However, even with all the money he possesses, the universe seems to be against letting him give her exactly what she wants tonight. She watches as his hand moves the joystick in the direction of the pink unicorn and holds her breath as she watches him press the button that lowers the claw. For the second time tonight, the claw wraps around the toy but raises without the prize. “Ughh, this thing is a piece of crap,” he groans, kicking it. The bartender looks over at the couple, “Hey, man! Don’t kick my shit.” Y/N yells over an apology, glaring at her boyfriend slightly. “Rafe, it’s okay. You’ve tried twice already, I really don’t need it,” she reassures. Her hand places itself on his chest and gives him a small rub of comfort. 

He pulls out of her touch to put more money in the machine and focuses on trying again. His new effort doesn’t work, leaving him empty-handed and more frustrated. As he pays for another round, she speaks up. “Seriously, Rafe. Let’s just go home. I’m tired.” He shakes his head, “No. You want this damn unicorn and I’m going to get it for you like any good boyfriend would.” “You are a great boyfriend. Winning me the stuffed animal isn’t going to prove anything that I don’t already know,” she says, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He looks over his shoulder to give her a kiss on the cheek, “It’s going to prove how much I care about you. Now, please, let me get it for you, Angel.”

Y/N knows arguing is futile, so she takes his credit card and goes to sit at a table to get something to eat. This is going to be a very long night. 

——

Three hours later, Y/N and Rafe are still in the same positions. She is hunched over a book at the table and he is sitting on the bar stool he brought over to the claw machine. It has to be hundreds of games later, but he doesn’t care about his aching wrist. They are the only patrons in the bar and the bartender is now glaring daggers at Rafe while giving Y/N a sympathetic look. The bartender moves out from behind the bar and approaches Rafe. Rafe ignores the man, focusing entirely on the unicorn. “You got to go now. I’m closing up,” the worker says in a gruff voice. Rafe’s head moves from side to side, “We can’t. I need to get this stuffed animal for my angel.” “Nope, you need to go. Come on, man. Look how tired your girl is. Just cut your losses and go home,” the man disagrees, gesturing toward Y/N. Rafe looks at her and notices the way her eyes are fluttering open and closed and then sighs. 

He gets off of the bar stool and heads over to her. He grabs her purse on the table, kissing her lips as an apology. “I’m sorry I made you stay so late, Angel. Let’s get you to bed,” he suggests. Her arm slings over his neck and they walk out to his car. When they get home, they go through their typical nighttime routine and fall into bed together, going to sleep in each other’s hold.

——

Y/N gets home the next day to find Rafe’s bed littered with stuffed animals. Front and centre is the pink unicorn with silver hooves. Rafe walks out of his bathroom, spotting his girlfriend with a grin. “You like it, Angel?” he wonders, coming to give her a kiss. She gives a small chuckle, “I love it,  Rafe. But how did you get all of them? It must have taken you all day.” He gives her a sheepish look and he doesn’t want to admit what really happened, but he can’t keep a secret from her. “Actually, I just went back to the bar and offered the owner a thousand dollars for all of them,” he admits and this really gets Y/N laughing. “Rafe, you know all of this is probably worth like fifty dollars. A hundred, max.” His head buries itself in her neck to hide his embarrassment, “I know. But what my angel wants, she gets. And I wasn’t about to let one little unicorn get in the way of that.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

#let me angel #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron series #rafe #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe fic #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #outerbanks #outer banks rafe #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks x y/n #outer banks x you #obx #obx fanfiction #obx x reader #obx x y/n

[nathaslosthershit]

Off in His Own Little World

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Reader

Summary: When two people love each other very much…

Warnings: Talk of baby makin’ and the beginnings of it

A/N: This was originally a Quinn fic but I just realized I already have a Quinn fic about him getting baby fever and his brothers being annoying so I had to change most of it to fit Jack instead.

Jack had taken his girlfriend to his parents house for the holidays. He knew one of his cousins had recently had a baby, what he hadn’t expected was for the baby to be so adorable, for the infant to get so attached to his partner of two years, and for it to mess with his head so much. Seeing her with the baby had changed him. All he could think about now was her with a baby, with his baby. 

It had begun to piss her off. Jack was in his own little world so much of the time and he refused to acknowledge the difference in his attitude or explain himself. After a full day of socializing, she was tired and just wanted her boyfriend to stop staring off into the distance.

“Okay what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry?” Her harsh words immediately took him out of his daydream. One with her on a boat, at the lake house, with a sleeping baby in her arms. It was his new favorite thing to imagine. He almost went back into his hazy state but was interrupted again by her agitated voice.

“You have been somewhere else for the past three days, Jack! It has been so hard having to do all the socializing because you have been practically catatonic. What is going on? Where are you going?”

She began to get more desperate the longer he stayed silent till he let out a quiet, “I want one.”

“You want what, Jack?”

“A baby”

“...I don’t know what you expect me to do about that”

“I can think of a few things…” “Jack, we are 22 and unmarried. I think the media would lose their mind if you got me pregnant. I mean seriously, they would think you are irresponsible or that I baby trapped you. People are going to start questioning if your priorities are with the team or your family and frankly-” He cuts her off with a kiss. A passionate one. One she knows is just to distract her. One that will definitely lead Jack to getting what he wants if she doesn’t stop it first.

“Jack, I am serious. Why all of a sudden?”

“It's not all of a sudden! I have wanted this for a while. I just- I didn’t know if I wanted to hear what you would say. Yes, I know we are young. Yes, some fans would get mad but fuck them. People will always be mad no matter what I do and there will always be reasons not to do it.”

Now it was her turn to stay silent.

“...do you really want one?”

“More than anything.”

“...Okay”

“Okay? That's it? I mean if you don’t want one then thats not-”

“I want a baby. I want a baby with you. And if you are ready, really ready, then why not.” He kisses her again. Even harder than the first time, if that is even possible. 

In what feels like seconds they are on the bed, her hands in his hair as he starts to kiss her lips, her neck, then her stomach. He takes her pants off and goes to kiss her thighs right before he hears someone yelling out-

“Jack! Come on man, Quinn, Dad, and I are gonna play pool and we need another person for pairs. Come down!” Luke screams. This stops Jack for a few seconds before he moves up to kiss you again.

“Jack, he won’t sto-”

“He will if we ignore him.”

“Jack! Get off her and let’s go” His brother yells once more. This, momentarily, stops Jack’s assault on your lips.

“I really do not like him right now.” She says.

“I never do.” He is getting desperate at this point. After years of his brothers ruining shit for him, this is the one moment he begs some higher power to give him peace.

She finally pushes him off her neck to make eye contact.

“Honey, he won’t stop.”

“He will. He has to. And I’m trying to get you pregnant so can you please be quiet and let me work.”

Luckily, Luke seemed to have given up after screaming a few more times. He was pissed at Jack in the morning for ignoring him, but the flustered look on your two faces at breakfast stopped him from bringing it up. And a month later when he found out he was going to be an uncle, he had already forgotten about the whole thing.

Jack didn't. He was still mad.

#jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine #jack hughes imagine

[formulaforza]

hi mack !! may i request a fluffy blurb with ‘gazing at them from afar because they're just so...’ for carlos? thank you !! <33

—when you're ready pairing: carlos sainz x female reader wc: 800ish summ. in which, carlos has never been able to keep his eyes off his best mate's pretty friend.

To the people that know Carlos, there are three constants in life: the sun sets in the west, summer follows spring, and Carlos is pathetically in love with his best friend’s friend. Ask anyone who knows Carlos, except you—his best-friend’s friend. 

You, who, at least tonight, are too preoccupied by the shots on the bartop, the game of darts Lando needs to lose, and the split ends of hair at the ends of your carefully woven braids, to notice Carlos. Carlos, and the way his eyes seem to find you even when he’s not really looking, who waits to laugh at his own jokes until you begrudgingly crack a toothy smile, who notices the little piece of glitter that’s perched on your eyebrow. 

It wasn’t always like this, he used to carry a certain level of subtlety, the ability to deny accusations without burning bright red and spewing half a dozen piss-poor excuses like a flustered boy on the schoolyard. It wasn’t always like this, not when he saw you for the first time, caught your eye and exchanged a smile with who he’d assumed was his teammate’s girlfriend. You were sat on your phone beside a sleeping Lando, who was curled up on the common area sofa. Your legs were long, crossed over each other beyond the hem of your dress. Your eyelashes were longer, watching him hurry past you. His first thought in regards to you was that Lando was a lucky fucking bastard. 

His second thought in regards to you, upon a proper introduction later that day, was that Lando is a fucking idiot for not managing to bed his “friend since primary school, or something.”

And that was the relationship you’d maintained for two years. Him, on his side of the garage, with his girlfriend. You, on the other side of the garage, not Lando’s girlfriend. Two years of short dresses over long legs he couldn’t touch and long eyelashes he couldn’t stare at. For two years it went like that, and then he signed a contract with Ferrari and he broke up with his girlfriend and he and Lando only seemed to get closer. 

And, to be close with Lando was to be close with you, which is when you became so much more than something he wanted to touch, a prize he could never win. 

It was easy to fall for you. Easy like breathing, like blinking, like letting hot water run down your back. It was easy, when you would instigate the shit-talking about Lando’s golf swing, the same way it was easy when you would steal a drink of his beer and let him spin you around a mutual friend’s backyard wedding—you wore your hair down that night. He still remembers the way the wind spent the entire evening blowing it into your face, into his face. It danced on its own, moved separately from everything else about you. He spent half the night wondering if he was drunk enough to grow a pair and tuck it behind your ears, and the other half wondering if you were tipsy enough to let him.  

Tonight, like all the other nights, he watches you. You down a shot after every round of darts, even though the original bet you’d made with Lando was that the loser needed to take a shot. The deal solidified with a firm handshake was tossed out the window by both of you after two shots each. His eyes follow you, your hand—freshly manicured nails and two sparkling rings—bringing the shot glass to your lips—soft and plump and the perfect shade of pink. He watches as your head falls back, hair falling from your shoulders, necklace shining in the barlight, the clear liquor disappearing from the glass. You wince, turn down the chaser, and call Lando a pussy when he downs a matching glass of crystal light. When you set the glass back on the bartop, even across the room, he swears he can hear the thud of the glass. It makes him shudder, snaps him back to reality. 

When you’re back in front of him, laughing at some undoubtedly stupid joke Lando had told you, you’re pointing a finger in his direction. “You—” you laugh harder, voice impaired by the smile that misshapes your lips. Your fingertip pushes into the middle of his chest. “You’re not drunk enough.”

 He laughs, throwing his hands up in surrender. “And what are we gonna do about that?”

“You,” you say, pushing your finger against him harder, and then removing it all together to bury it in your own chest, “and me. Loser—you,” you laugh “—has to take three shots.”

Carlos nods, holds out his hand to shake on it. “Deal.”

“Really?” You smile, like you thought he’d say no to you. “Okay, deal. I’m totally going to kick your ass, though.”

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x female reader #formula 1 #formula one x reader #formula one #f1 2023 #f1 fic #f1 edit #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 #carlos sainz blurb

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: Y/n gets sick of people making comments about her being single while at a work event and ends up asking her best friend, Sam, to pretend to be her date for the weekend.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, alcohol consumption, reader being around judgmental people, flirting, kissing, hair pulling, biting, unprotected quickie, mix of sensual fluff and general filth, friends to lovers basically

Word Count: 9.8k | not really edited

Thank you for being so patient with me 🖤

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"Don't you leave for that work trip thingy today?" Your best friend, Lilly asks as you finish your breakfast. You nod, "Uh huh." You roll your eyes with a sigh, "A weekend with a bunch of high class bitches who like to judge everyone around them and show off their sugar daddy hubbies."

"That sounds... awful.. but you get your own hotel room, don't you?" She leans onto the counter and you nod, "Oh yeah. It's a beautiful one, too. Here."

You pull your phone out to show her the hotel, "Oh god." She gasps and begs, "Take me with you!"

You laugh slightly, "I could if I would, but the only plus ones that are allowed is the significant others." You shake your head slightly, "Which is stupid."

"I'll be your significant other." She walks around, pressing her cheek to yours, "We can be lesbian lovers for the weekend." She laughs and you sigh, "We could probably pull it off, honestly."

She snaps her fingers and points at you, "Exactly." She stares at you for a second, "Why don't you see if Sam will go?"

You stare back at her, "Wh-what? why would you even-"

She cuts you off, "I know you like him." She smirks and glances up at you, "I can see it all over you when you're around him. When his name is mentioned.."

"He's my best friend, Lilly." You scoff slightly, "I don't think he'd wanna share a hotel with me for three days."

She raises her eyebrows and purses her lips. You tilt your head, "What's that look for?"

She shakes her head slowly, "No reason.."

"There's a reason. I know you." You move your bowl aside and rest your elbows on the counter, "Now spill."

She drags her finger in circles on the counter, "Colby and I may have had a little meeting, as the best friends of the people who like each other."

Your heart picks up and you blink, shaking your head as you try to understand what she just said, "Excuse me? You and Colby what?"

She laughs, "Oh come on. He can see it all over Sam, too. You guys.. like.. really need to understand the meaning of having a poker face." She snorts, "Especially around each other."

"Wait..." you hold your hand up, closing your eyes, "are you saying that Sam likes me?" You look at her and she nods, "And you like him."

"I never said that." You say quickly and she gently slaps the counter, "You don't need to, because as I just said, you have a horrible poker face when it comes to him. I can see that you're seething with love for him right now."

You roll your eyes, "Whatever you say."

"I say, that you guys are just scared, and one of you needs to just risk it for the biscuit because you both are head over heels for each other." Lilly stands up, "I have a photoshoot, so if i don't see you before you leave, good luck. I hope you get an award or whatever it is they're passing out. Call me when you get there."

"It's literally forty five minutes away and we're not done talking about this." You laugh and she shrugs, "I still worry." She smiles and grabs her jacket as she walks to the door, "and we are until I know you can just admit it. Love you, see ya!"

"Love you, see ya!"

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Good luck tomorrow, y/n. Remember, even if you don't get an award, you're still a winner to us.

You can't help but smile at Sam's message, and that quickly leads into replaying this mornings conversation with Lilly.

You did like Sam, a lot.

But, you always thought there was way too much history with each other, and if it went to shit, you'd lose all the good things with him.

Besides Lilly, Sam knows you like the back of his hand. You grew up together, basically.

Which gets you into thinking about what exactly him and Lilly talked about, you and Sam obviously, but did Sam really like you, too?

"Miss... miss?"

You look up from your phone screen and the driver is looking back at you.

He smiles slightly, "Is this the place?"

You look out the window, getting a nauseated feeling as you nod, "Yeah, yeah it is." You look back at him, "I'll tip you on the app if that's okay?"

He nods, "I appreciate it. Have a good night."

You smile and nod, "Thank you. You too." You get out, grabbing your suitcase before you shut the door and slowly turn around to face the entrance of the very fancy hotel, "Just two nights." You whisper as you force yourself to walk into the building, "Just two nights."

You walk up to the desk, and right off the bat you felt like you were judge for being alone.

Everyone had their arm candies and you just had your suitcase.

"Hi, will you be checking in?" The lady behind the desk asks, "just you, I assume?" You clench your jaw and swallow, "Yeah, just me, for now." You step forward as you talk quietly, "Y/n y/l/n."

"You're under the reserved rooms for Brookendale." Her eyes move up to you and you nod, "That's right."

She doesn't say another word until she grabs your room key, "usually you get two.. but.." her eyes move down to your suitcase and you wanted to just turn around and go home, "Actually. Someone will be joining me later. He's just working late tonight."

She raises her eyebrows, seeing right through your empty lie, "Mm. Enjoy your stay, miss y/l/n."

You snatch the key from her grasp and make your way to the elevator, pressing the up arrow and praying that the doors open quickly.

As they open, you stop when you see Carmen Kline. The bosses favorite employee, "Ah, y/n! I'm so glad you could make it!"

Carmen was usually alright, but once she got around those certain type of people, she because a totally different person.

"Yeah. Im here." You laugh slightly as you get on. She leans back, "You should totally come down for drinks. Zack is buying us all our first one, but I'm sure we can milk him for a couple more." She nudges you as she giggles and you can smell that she's already had a few.

"Maybe once I get settled." You glance over at her with a smile and point to the doors as they open, "I'll see you later maybe."

"Yes please come down!" She yells as the doors shut and you keep walking, stopping at your door and going in as quickly as you can.

You press your back against the shut door and let out a sigh, the thought of doing what Lilly said to do was heavy on your mind.

You chew on your lip, pulling your phone out as you FaceTime her.

"Glad you made it there okay." She says as she answers, "You okay?"

You laugh slightly, "The lady at the desk already ridiculed me for coming alone, so it's going wonderfully." Your words dripping with sarcasm, "I fucking hate these things. It's been three years and I never win anyway."

"Maybe this time it'll be different." She says and you sigh, "doubt it." You walk over to the bed, lifting your suitcase onto it, "Since I have you, can you help me to decide on which dress to wear?"

"Um, yes. Of course!" She sets her phone down and sits down, watching the screen as you pull out two dresses, "okay.. this one?"

You hold up the spaghetti strap black velvet mini dress, "Or.." you grab the other dress, the black lace corset mini dress, "This one?"

"Definitely that one." She says with zero hesitation, "isn't that the one you designed yourself?"

"I sure did." Your eyes scan over the dress in your hands and you sigh, "I really like this one."

"I'm sure Sam will like it too." She teases and you can feel your cheeks getting warm, "Stop it."

"I'm just joking. You know I have to." She laughs and sighs, "which one are you wearing for the awards tomorrow night?"

You smirk and pull out the sparkly maroon gown, "This. Zack said we have to dress fancy and I figured this was fancy enough."

"And hot." Lilly says, "I remember you trying that on after you were done with it. It looked so good on you."

You smile, "Thanks." You check the time, "Alright. I have to get ready and head down for whatever the hell it is we're doing.. the mixer bullshit thingy."

"Call me later."

"So I can tell you how awful it went?" You laugh and she sighs, "I'm telling you.. ca-"

"Bye! Love you!" You hang up on her and throw your phone down before changing into the black dress with the lace corset.

You curled your hair before you left, so you just needed to touch that up, along with redoing your makeup.

You slipped your heels on and walk over to the body mirror, turning to each side as you inspect yourself.

You snap a few mirror selfies before you tuck your phone and room key into your purse and walk over to your door.

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves before you open it and walk over to the elevator. To your surprise, when the doors open, you see Zack standing there, smiling at you, "Hello, y/n."

"Hello, Mr. Brookendale." You give him a smile and step onto the elevator.

"Y/n. You can call me Zack." He chuckles, "Going to the mixer?" He turns his body so it's facing you. You look over at him, nodding, "Yes. Are you?"

He chuckles, "Now what kind of question is that?"

You laugh slightly, "Of course you're going."

Zack has always been flirty with you, which you didn't like, but he's never actually tried anything, then again, he's flirty with all the other girls who work for him.

"Of course I am." He smirks, "My company, right?" His smug look makes you want to round house him, but you just play it off with a gentle laugh, "That it is, Zack. That it is."

You started thinking about Sam. About how if he was here, Zack would possibly have a whole different attitude towards you and Sam could play the protective boyfriend or whatever.

The ding of the elevator snaps you out of your daze and you look up as the doors open. As you step forward, you feel a hand lay on the center of your back and he leans in slightly, whispering, "That dress is gorgeous, by the way."

You swallow, nodding, "Thank you. I designed it myself."

"I know you did." He winks and walks off, leaving you to follow behind him alone. You walk up to the table, letting the people know you're here for the mixer and they direct you into the side room.

You walk in, immediately grabbing a glass of champagne from the tray, "Please. Yes. Thank you."

The waiter nods and walks away as you practically down the drink in one gulp.

"Thirsty or something?" Carmen asks walking up to you. You force a smirk and shrug, "I just don't really want to be here."

"You'll be fine. Now come on." She grabs your hand and pulls you through the room, not giving you a chance to escape.

The whole time you're following her, you're mentally cursing at her because you know what she's pulling you into.

It's the same thing every year.

You show up without a date, you get judged for showing up without said date, even though the girls think they're being discreet, they're absolutely not.

"Hey!" Carmen says loudly in a sing songy tone, "Look who I found!"

"Oh y/n! We were wondering when you'd get here." Alexa says bringing her glass to her lips. You fight hard on not rolling your eyes, "Yeah, yeah.. here I am."

You look around, grabbing another glass of champagne off the tray that's moving by and immediately bringing it to your lips.

"Carmen said she seen you on the way here, but.." Alexa giggles slightly, "So.. do we get to meet this mystery man that you're being so private about?"

Fuck, you think, why do they have to remember that?

You laugh slightly, "Maybe. Maybe. He's actually working late tonight, so if not tonight, tomorrow for sure."

You could knock yourself out. Literally.

"We're all excited to meet him." Alexa says and looks around at the other overly dressed girls, "Aren't we?"

They all agree, "Yeah, we just don't know why you won't tell us about him." Deana says, but her tone of voice screams that they don't believe you.

Which they shouldn't because you have been totally lying about this mystery man the whole time.

"I like to keep things private. You know how it is." You sip your drink and Deana laughs slightly, "yeah.. privacy is important, but at the same time, doesn't that get suffocating? I mean you don't have any posts about him on Facebook, Instagram.. I mean.. come on, y/n."

So you've been stalking me.. nice, is what you wanted to say, but instead you force a smile, "I'll see you guys later." You turn and walk away, and you can hear Carmen scolding them, but it quickly turns into laughter.

What a surprise.

You roll your eyes and walk up to the bar, sitting down so you can check your phone. You click on Lilly's name and start typing, but you stop when you remember you never answered Sam.

You go out and click on Sam's name and start typing your message, Hey. I have a question.

You shove your phone back into your purse, hoping that drinking the rest of your drink will give you the ounce of confidence you need to ask Sam.

You didn't think he'd say no. He'd do anything for you.

The kicker is, if he says yes. You both have to play the part, and you have to play it good.

You feel your purse vibrate, so you pull your phone out, reading Sam's message, I may have an answer. What's up?

You chew on your lip as you circle your fingers above your keyboard, unsure of how to ask, Can I call you quick?

Before you even have a second to think about what you're going to say, you see Sam's face pop up on your phone and you smile.

You stand up, walking out of the room as you answer, "Hey."

"How's it going? Need me to come rescue you yet?" Sam chuckles but that wasn't perfect lead way, "Um.. actually.."

"Uh oh. What happened?"

"Can you do me a favor?" You look around as you walk away to a lesser crowded area, "It's a huge and.." you laugh, "..a very weird favor."

"I'm listening." He pauses, waiting for you to ask your favor and you shake your hand slightly, rubbing your sweaty palm against your thigh, "Can you come here?"

"You want me to come there? Like right now?" He asks kinda surprised. You regret asking until he speaks, "What do I need to pack?"

"Wait. You're actually coming?" You ask and he scoffs, "you sound shocked, like I wouldn't do anything for you."

You smile and nod, "yeah, well.. there's.. um.. here's the things.." you sigh and just spit it out, "I need you to pretend to be my fiancé or whatever." You quickly follow up, "please don't ask. I'll explain it when you get here. Or later. Sometime just.. fancy. Dress fancy and nice, these people will eat you alive if you come in your xplr merch."

He laughs, "They must not know fashion then."

"Yeah, I guess not. Do you want me to send you what I'm wearing now so you can coordinate or whatever?" You ask, a nervous feeling washing over your body.

"Yeah, you can. Just so I can get a feel for how fancy I need to pack quick."

You can tell you're on speaker now and he's working on packing. You loved how much he cared about you and would drop everything, if he could, for you.

You honestly loved him for how he is in general, though.

"Okay..." you go out, sending him the picture you took before coming down, "Sent. And when you get here, Sam.." you pause, laughing anxiously, "Tell them you are here as my plus one and that you were working late."

"Tell them I was working late?" He repeats and you sigh, "Like I said.. I'll explain everything when I see you."

"Fine, fine. I gotta let Colby know I'm leaving. I'll be there in like an hour or so."

"Thank you. You're the best." You smile at the ground and he sighs, but you can tell he's smiling, "I know." He laughs, "I'll text you when I'm almost there."

"Thank you."

"Welcome. See you soon."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The next hour felt utterly painful.

It was dragging by so, so slow for you and you just wanted Sam there already.

Your phone vibrates and you lift it, smiling as you read his text, Pulling up now. I'll take my bag to the room then come back down.

You type back quick, Tell the lady at the desk to go fuck herself while you're at it.

You may have gotten a stronger drink, so therefore, you weren't in any mood to deal with the judgement comments from anyone anymore.

Harsh, but I'll see what I can do lol, you laugh at his text and shake your head, grabbing your drink as you move through the room, talking to people who actually enjoy seeing you.

You mainly talk about your dress, other designs you have coming along.

The fashion industry usual.

You can tell your mood changed the second Sam said he would come, but it changed even more when you seen him walk in.

He's wearing his black short sleeve button up, black and white striped pants with his white shoes and he just looks absolutely incredible.

A huge smile spreads across your face as you walk over to him. His eyes lock onto yours, a smile growing on his lips as he walks towards you.

"There you are." He says and brings you in for a hug, "How's it going?"

"Better, now that you're here." You look up at him and he glances from your drink to your face, "Sure it's not from whatever you're drinking?"

You shrug, "Maybe." You smirk and turn as you hear Carmen talking, and it's growing closer, "Y/n."

You lean into Sam slightly, sliding your arm around him and his arm slides around your waist, "Carmen, this is Sam, my fiancé. Sam, my coworker Carmen."

"Sam." She says as she looks him up and down, "I honestly feel like I know who you are I just.." she looks him up and down, "Can't put my finger on it."

He chuckles and shrugs, "I get that a lot." His thumb runs slow and gently up and down your waist, "I need a drink, excuse us." He turns, moving you with him and he leans in more, "How good do we have to play the part?"

You look up at him, "We have to fully commit to this. But only if you're okay with it."

"That's good because..." he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring, "You said fiancé, and I noticed in your picture you send you didn't have one on and Lilly told me how judgmental these people are so.."

Your lips part slightly as you watch him slip the ring on your finger, "I'm so glad you thought of that because I didn't even.." you laugh slightly, kinda flustered, "Thanks."

He nods, "Mhm." His eyes stay on you as you lean forward to order your drink. He looks away when you look back and you lean in, "What do you want?"

"Get whatever." He smiles and you nod, looking back to the bartender, "Two of them please."

Just as you turn back to Sam, Deana walks up with Carmen and Alexa, "So, this is the mystery man she kept us from knowing about."

Her ring covered fingers reach out and grab his hand, "I'm Deana. I work in the same department as y/n."

Sam glances down at her hand and back up to you. You give him a subtle look, indicating that she's one of the bitches who's always on you with the comments and shit.

He takes his hand away, pulling you closer, "Yeah?"

Deana nods, "You know she doesn't talk about you right?"

"Deana." You sigh and Sam chuckles, "We like to keep things private, you know. It's more intimate between us, the less the public knows.." he glances over at you with a smile, "The better."

Deana didn't like that she wasn't getting to Sam, "Mm. Yeah, I mean.. to each their own I guess." She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head as she shrugs.

"How long have you been together?" Alexa pries, following up quickly with, "I'm just curious."

"I've known her, basically my whole life." Sam nods, "We grew up together and one thing led to another and now we're getting married here soon."

You smile, laying your hand on his abdomen.

"Hm, really?" Alexa raises a brow, "Here I thought you were just a lonely gal." Her eyes move up and down Sam, "But now I can see that you're just a gal who got really lucky."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You straighten up and she smirks, but Sam cuts her off before she can add anything, "If anyone is lucky here, it's me. I don't know what I'd do without her."

Sam kisses your temple and you can feel your cheeks heating up again as you smile.

"I'm proud of her." He smiles at Alexa and Deana and they say nothing, "Did you design your dress too?"

Alexa clenches her jaw and sighs, "No, but it's fro-"

"Alright, well now that this is over, we should take our seats because Zack will be up to announce the nominees." Carmen cuts in, pushing them away as she turns around mouthing a quick, "Sorry."

You turn to Sam, "See what I mean."

He brushes hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear as his eyes scan over your face, "You don't deserve that, so I'll do whatever it takes to get them off your back."

You wanted to admit that you liked him, you wanted to come clean about everything but by the time you got enough courage to blurt it out, the microphone omits a high pitched screech and Zack clears his through, "If everyone would take their seats please.. I'm about to announce the nominees."

You grab your drink, along with Sam grabbing his and you make your way to your table.

He moves his chair closer to yours and lays his arm over the back of it, around you.

If it wasn't for you asking him to pretend for the weekend, you would honestly think you and Sam are actually together.

"You're nominated for something right?" Sam asks leaning in, and his face is so close to yours if you turn you could kiss him.

You nod, "I think so. I wasn't told for sure, but I think." You shrug and turn your head slightly towards him, "Not a big deal if I'm not."

His fingers gently rubbing your arm as he sips on his drink, "It'll happen, babe. I'm sure of it. They'd be stupid not to give you something."

You smile and bring your drink up to your lips, mainly because you were jittery about him calling you babe. No one was around, so that was all him.

After a few categories and the people nominated are announced, you start to have this feeling that your name is going to be said.

"The nominees for the Creative Genius are.. Deana Till.." Zack pauses as people clap and you sigh, "Of course."

"Carmen Kline.."

Everyone claps, including you. You genuinely liked Carmen, and she surprised you tonight by not joining in on their ridiculing crusade.

"Y/n y/l/n."

Even thought you had a feeling it was coming, you're still shocked and Sam gently grabs your shoulders, "That's you, babe!"

The name makes your heart skip a beat, again. You cared more about that than being nominated for an award you probably won't win.

You smile, looking from his eyes to his lips before Carmen comes up to you, "Who would have ever thought that we'd be running against each other! Ah! I'm so excited for tomorrow night!" She sits down and looks up at you, "How do you feel?"

You look over at her, slightly shrugging your shoulders, "I mean.. I probably won't have a reaction until we find out who gets the award tomorrow, but.. yeah. Good I guess."

You look back at Sam and he smiles, "You're so gunna win, babe. I know it." He brings his drink up to his lips and Carmen groans, "You guys are so cute, just stop it."

She smiles and nods back to her table, "I have to go find my hubs before he spends all our money at the bar."

She gets up and walks away and you look at Sam, "Don't you just love my coworkers."

He chuckles, "You work in a high class fashion industry, darling. I wouldn't expect it any differently."

You raise your eyebrow and nod, no longer talking about work, "some days I wish it was."

"Yeah.. I know what you mean." He finishes his drink and you look at him, "You hunt ghosts, Sam." You laugh and he sighs, "It's hard work, you need to come with us one of these times."

You shake your head and hold your hand up, "I'm good."

"I'll be there to protect you." He smiles and pokes your shoulder as he leans in, "It's not bad... sometimes."

"Exactly. You never know." You take a sip of your drink and check the time, "Does that mean we can leave? I need out of this godforsaken dress."

He looks around, "I see other people leaving so.. I would assume we can."

You look over at him, "Do you want to leave?"

He smirks, "I'll do whatever you want, fiancé." He winks and stands up, "M'lady." He holds his hand out and you can't help but smile and take his hand.

As you're walking out, Carmen stops you at the door, "Hey, y/n. Wait up."

"Yeah?" You ask looking at her. She smiles, "we were just going to dinner." She motions to Zack, "I want you and Sam to join us."

You glance over at Sam and he shrugs, "I haven't eaten yet." You nod and look back at Carmen, "Where at?"

"Just right down the hall." She points and you nod, "We'll follow you." You keep ahold of Sam's hand as you follow them out the doorway.

"So fiancé, huh?" Zack says as he glances back, "How long has that been a thing?"

"I proposed recently, actually. It was a private thing, on the beach where we went all the time as kids."

You were surprised with how fast Sam came up with responses, but at the same time, he knew you.

He knew you well.

"That's so sweet!" Carmen pushes her bottom lip out and you smile, "Yeah. I didn't expect it, really. We go there as much as we can, it just never occurred to me that this would have happened.." you hold up your ring and Carmen pouts, "I'm sure it was beautiful. Do you have any pictures?"

Carmen looks between you and Sam, and Sam Saves your ass, "I do, but they're all on my laptop at home. The photographer recently just sent the rest to us."

"Can't rush perfection, am I right?" She laughs and Zack holds his hand out, "Stay right here."

You look at Carmen with a weird look as he walks away from you and she shrugs, "I have no idea. But I understand. You'll have to send them to me, y/n. I'd love to see them. I'm such a sucker for cute engagement pictures."

"Engagement pictures? Oh I'd love to see them too, y/n.." Alexa says walking up with her husband, glued to her side. 

"They just got them back, Lex. Lay off, okay." Carmen sticks up for you but Alexa just snorts, "I still don't believe this. There's just something..." she looks you up and down, smirky smugly, "Fishy.. about all of this."

"You can think what you want.. but I'm real. I'm here. So there's no need to be a bitch towards, y/n." Sam's words shock you, but also set a fire inside of you.

You love when he sticks up for you.

You always have.

Alexa snaps her head back slightly, "Excuse me?" Sam laughs, "Clearly, you heard me." His grip tightens on your waist and you lay a hand on his chest, "Baby, it's fine."

He looks down at you and you smile, "It's not worth it."

"What's going on out here?" Zack asks walking back out, looking at Alexa. She shakes her head, "Nothing. Nothing at all." She rolls her eyes and pulls her miserable looking husband with her, quietly yelling at him because he didn't stick up for her.

"Sorry, Sam." Carmen furrows her brows and frowns, "She can be a little..ehh."

He shakes his head, "Don't sweat it. We get that a lot actually."

"Really?" She asks and he nods but Zack cuts in, "Our tables are ready."

You all walk in, expecting to be sat in a booth, but you're led to a whole other table, kind of away from everyone else and it's decorated with scattered rose petals and a lit candle, "What is this?" You look at Sam and he shrugs.

Zack walks up between you and Sam, "I'd like to congratulate one of my favorite employees on her engagement." He lays a hand on Sam's shoulder, "You're a very lucky man."

Sam smiles and nods, "I am." He locks eyes with you, "Very, very lucky."

At this point, you weren't sure if you were just pretending, or if the truth was slowly coming out.

"Well.. dinner is on me tonight, as a congratulations. Enjoy it." He smiles and walks back over to Carmen and you look at Sam, "Free dinner? Hell yeah."

He walks around, moving your chair out for you and helping you scoot in, "Good?"

You nod, "Good." He walks to his seat, sitting down and looking over the menu, "this place is way too fancy, I can't even pronounce that."

You laugh slightly and shake your head, biting your lip as you look over the menu for yourself, "I know right? It's a lot of fancy for me, too."

You lean back in your chair and look up at him, "I have a confession."

"Oh, I love a good confession." He leans forward and stares at you, elbows on the table, "Hit me."

You laugh and lean forward, "Lilly gave me the idea to do this.. I just wasn't sure if you'd actually do something like this. But I guess I thought wrong."

He smiles and shakes his head, "Yeah, her and Colby have meetings about us apparently."

"You know about those, too!?" You lean back slightly and scoff, "Well.."

"Well?" Sam tilts his head and you look up at him, "I guess now a a good time to-"

"Hello, sorry about the wait. My name is Luis, I'll be taking care of you guys tonight."

"Hello." You smile up at him and Sam nods, also smiling, "Hey, how are you?"

Luis nods, "I'm great since I've been giving the pleasure of taking care of the newly engaged couple, can I get you guys started with some on the house drinks?"

You and Sam look over the drink options and order and Luis nods, "I'll be right back with those."

You look back at Sam, "We should do this more often." You laugh and Sam nods, smiling as he thinks about doing it for real one day, "Yeah, yeah we should."

You pull your phone out, "Smile this is going to both Lilly and Colby."

Sam laughs as you take the picture. The rose petals scattered in front of him make the picture even better.

"Such a cutie." You smile at him and look down at your phone as you send the picture to your friends, "They'll love this."

You put your phone away and rest your chin in the palm of your hand, "so back to-"

"Here we are." Luis sets the glasses down and leans up, "Are we ready to order?" You look at Sam and he nods, "I am if you are."

You nod and look at Luis, ordering before Sam does. Luis nods, "I'll put that right in."

"Okay." You look at Sam and sigh, "Before we get interrupted.. again." You laugh slightly and lean in as you whisper the truth, "I like you a lot, but I'm just scared that if we tr-"

Sam cuts you off by leaning over and pulling you to him. His lips press to yours and you immediately give into him, laying a hand on his arm as your lips move slowly together.

"I've been waiting years to do that." He whispers before leaning back, "You have no idea."

You smile, "Trust me. I think I do." You lean back in, pressing your lips to his and he smiles within the kiss, "I've been in love with you the minute I saw you. I was just so scared to tell you and then we became such good friends."

You lay a hand on his cheek, "I know the feeling, Sam." You smile and lean back, your cheeks filling with a deep pink tint as he continues to stare at you.

"You are.. amazing." He reaches out, taking your hand in his, "You deserve this award and even if you don't get it.. we'll get you one made."

"You don't have to do that." You shake your head and Sam sighs, "you deserve it, y/n. You are so beyond talented and smart, I mean hell, look at what you're wearing."

You glance down at your dress, absolutely speechless.

"You are going to go far, and I'm so beyond happy that I get to watch you turn into such a successful.. hold on.." he bites his lip, squeezing your hand and you look up at him.

"I'm so beyond happy that I get to watch my girlfriend become successful in what she loves doing." He smiles and your heart rate picks up, "Girlfriend?"

"Well, fiancé, for the weekend, but yeah." He smirks and brings your hand up to kiss it, "I'm so proud of you."

The rest of dinner was a blur, but a good and happy blur. You felt like you were floating, maybe it was the three drinks on top of what you had at the mixer, but you knew you were genuinely happy.

As you stand up, you notice Carmen and Zack are gone, "I'll tell them thank you tomorrow." Sam wraps his arm around your waist and leads you out and to the elevator.

He stands behind you as you wait, arms wrapped around you with his chin on your shoulder, "Guess we're done pretending, huh?"

You nod with a sigh, leaning back into him, "I guess we are."

The doors open and you step in, assuming the position you were just in after pressing the button, "Sorry I was so scared before."

"Mm. Don't do that." He kisses your cheek, "water under the bridge, baby."

The doors open and you make your way back to the hotel room. Sam holds the door open for you and you immediately kick your heels off as soon as you walk in.

Sam walks over, sitting on the bed next to your suit case, "Is this the dress you designed a few weeks ago?" Sam looks from the dress to you.

"The sparkly one?" You turn after taking your earrings out and he nods. You nod, "Yeah, that's her."

"Incredible." He bites his lip and tilts his head as he looks back down at it. His fingers run over the fabric and you walk over, "What's on your mind?"

"I'm just thinking about having you design our next merch line." He looks up at you and you smile, "Really?"

He nods, "Well, basically im asking you to. Colby and I already talked about it and he's game."

"Of course, yes." You smile and he smiles, "Yeah?"

You nod, "I'd be honored to. Just let me know what kind of designs you want." He holds his hand out and you take it. He spins you around and unzips your dress, "Go change into your comfy clothes."

You smile and go to the bathroom to change and take your makeup off. You walk out and Sam is already in shorts and a t shirt, and your suitcase is moved next to his on the floor.

He stops and looks at you, "You're so beautiful." You shake your head and cover your face, "Nooo."

"Yesss." He mocks you and walks over to you, "Come on." He pulls you to the bed and you lay down, his body pressed against yours from behind.

His arm lays over your waist and you gently play with his fingers, "Where did you get this ring from?"

He chuckles anxiously, "Well.. you see.." he pauses and you look over your shoulder at him, "What?"

"I've had it for a little bit actually.. not that I was actually going to propose or anything.. but mainly for when I got enough courage to tell you I liked you.."

"A promise ring?" You roll over to face him and he smiles and laughs slightly, "Basically, yeah."

"Sam." You whisper and he tucks hair behind your ear, "Sorry if it's not the right timing but.." he shrugs and leans in to kiss you, "I just want you to know that I got you.. no matter what."

You lay a hand on his cheek and smile, yawning as you feel the tiredness hit you, "I love it."

He smiles and kisses your forehead, "Get some sleep, you have a big day tomorrow."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Your eyes fluttered open, squinting at the sunlight peaking through the slightly open curtains.

You roll over, shocked for a quick second when you see Sam lying there asleep, but that shock is quickly filled with happiness and a feeling of relief.

You sit up, trying your best not to disturb him. You reach over, grabbing your purse from on top or your suit case.

You quietly laugh and smile as you see both responses from Lilly and Colby.

Lilly's text reads, now that looks like l.o.v.e.

Colby's text reads, he is so in love with you, y/n.

Sam sits up, rubbing his eyes, "Morning." You look over at him, setting your phone down as you turn to him, "Morning."

He smiles at you and leans in for a kiss. You lean in, closing the space and you both smile.

"Are you ready for this afternoon?" Sam asks as he stands up and stretches. You sigh with a laugh, "Not really."

"I'm sure you'll be alright, babe. I'll be with you the whole time." He smiles and you tilt your head, "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" He asks running his hand through his hair.

"Make everything okay."

He tilts his head, "What do you mean?" You lay on your side and he sits down on the bed, still looking at you.

"You just.. have this way of making me feel better.. no matter what." You look up at him and he smiles, "I could ask you the same question." He leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead.

You smile, closing your eyes until he leans back, "what time is it?"

He looks at the clock on the wall that's behind you, "Almost eleven."

You groan, "We have to be down there by one." You flip onto your back and say lays next to you, propping his head up with his hand, "At least you know what category you're in, so you can just ignore it all until then."

You look up at him, "I just really hope I win so I can rub it in that bitch's face."

He chuckles and nods, "Yeah, yeah. Me too honestly."

You laugh as you sit up, looking at the dress that's laid out over the chair, "You ever do something and it turned out better than you thought that you just can't believe that you did it?"

"You should be proud of yourself, babe. What you do is  pure talent. Even I'm a little jealous." Sam chuckles and you look at him, "Didn't you win awards already?"

"That's besides the point." He kisses your head, "Get ready, we'll go get some breakfast before we have to actually get ready."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Sam?" You call out as you walk out from the bathroom, "Can you zip me up, please?"

You look up and he's staring at you, "Wow, um. Yeah, I can. Turn around for me."

You turn around, holding your dress to your body as he gently tugs the zipper upward, "alright. Spin around, let me see you."

You spin around and Sam's eyes rake up and down your body, "This is beautiful." He reaches out, his fingers lightly dragging up and down the fabric over your hip, "You outdid yourself with this one."

You smile, "Does this low bun and loose strands look okay with it?"

He cups your cheeks and tilts your head up, "You look absolutely gorgeous. I promise." He leans down, kissing you gently before stepping back, "Now.. how do I look?"

"It's a simple outfit, but you look expensive." You smirk and he chuckles, "That was the goal." He hands you your purse and you take it, making sure you have everything before nodding, "Alright. Let's do this."

You make your way down, everyone you pass complimenting you on your dress and you can't help but tell each person that you designed it yourself.

Sam was right, you should be proud, and you are.

You walk in to the small ballroom where you were last night and you feel like all eyes are on you.

Sam leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple and your anxiety washes away, "Thank you."

"Mhm." He points, "I'll go get us a drink if you want to go to our table." You nod, parting ways and going to sit down.

Carmen comes up and makes you stand up, "Oh my god, y/n. This dress is absolutely perfect. Holy shit."

You smile and shrug, "Thanks. I made it myself." 

"You totally deserve this award. If I win, I'm giving it to you." She looks you up and down, "I don't know how you aren't higher up in this industry."

You shrug, "I'll get there at some point, right?"

"You will when you win that award for creative genius, because this just screams, creative genius." She laughs and holds her hand up, "Hey Sam."

"Hey." Sam smiles and hands you your drink, "here babe." You take it and smile, "Thank you."

You hear the microphone squeal and Carmen sighs, "Good luck!" You nod, "You too!" You turn to Sam and sit down.

"You so have this in the bag." He smiles and everyone claps as Zack makes his way to the stage, "Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you all for being here, I'm very excited to give these ladies the recognition they truly deserve, so without further ado, our first category.."

You lean in towards Sam and laugh slightly, "You know.. I don't know why I said fiancé.."

He chuckles, "Yeah. We're kinda screwed on that one."

"Yeah. I can't just be like, oh hey. We started dating last night. We're not actually engaged." You laugh quietly and he nods, "we'll figure it out as time goes on, but in the meantime, I don't mind being your fake fiancé."

You smile and nod, "Yeah, it's pretty fun."

He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink before leaning in close to your ear, "Gives us practice for the future, right?"

You look at him, smiling as you nod, "Right." He pecks your lips and lays his arm behind you across the chair.

A few drinks later, you're finally at the category your name is listed in.

"Here we go. No matter what. You still got it." Sam grabs your hand and you hold onto it right as Zack speaks.

"And the winner of the creative genius award goes to.."

There's a slight pause as he opens up the folded piece of paper, "Y/n y/l/n." Zack claps and looks over at you and your mouth drops.

"That's you baby! You won! You fucking won!" You stand up, along with Sam and he kisses you, "go, go." You walk up to the small stage and accept the award from Zack, “Thank you.”

"You deserve this. Look at who you're wearing." He smiles and claps as you turn to the microphone, "um, wow. Okay. I honestly didn't expect this, but at the same time.." you laugh slightly and motion to your dress, "I made this."

"Yeah you did!" Carmen yells and you laugh, "I don't really have a speech prepared but I just want to thank everyone in my life who's pushed me to keep going and to Zack for taking a chance on me."

You look back at him and he nods with a smile. You turn back to the microphone and nod, "Thank you."

You step back and walk off and Zack starts talking again, “I also just found out today that our y/n has just recently got engaged, so if everyone would give a round applause for the newly engaged couple, Sam and y/n!”

You smile, shaking your head as you make your way back to the table, eyes continuing to stay on you while hands clap together.

Sam stands up, hugging you tight, "I'm so proud of you, y/n." He kisses your cheek a few times and as you sit down, you're still floating so you don't really recognize Zack announcing that you got engaged as a problem.

That is until you remember that this little ceremony is being live-streamed on multiple accounts and they have cameras.. Everywhere.

"Shit." You look around and Sam leans in, "What?"

You can't help but laugh, "Zack just outed us as being engaged." You look over at him and he shrugs with a slight laugh, "So?"

You tilt your head, "This is being live-streamed, Sam.. and we’re only dating.. I just.." you cover your mouth with your hand as you laugh into it.

He lays a hand on your thigh and shakes his head, "how many people actually watch this anyway? And I mean other than the other people in the fashion biz, and you know family and stuff."

You nod, "You're right, it's probably not that big of deal, honestly. I mean your fans probably don’t even know you’re here." You smile as you look over your award, "I can't believe it."

"Believe it baby." He gently pinches your cheek, "I knew you were going to get it."

"I hope Colby and Lilly saw.” You sigh, “I can’t believe I won. I won't be able to think about anything else now." You look over at him and he smirks, "Wanna know what I'm thinking about?"

"What's that?" You bite your lip slightly and he leans in, whispering just enough so you can hear, "Just how slow and gentle I want to pull this dress down your body.."

You tense up slightly, biting down on your lip harder as an excited chill goes down your spine, "Really?"

He nods, his fingers run up and down the zipper of your back, "Really."

You take a deep breath, looking around for any indication that you’re allowed to leave.

“I’m sure they’ll want-“ you get cut off by Zack tapping the microphone, “Would all of my winners, please come back up to the stage.”

“That.” You laugh slightly and Sam shakes his head, “It’s fine, babe. We have all night.” He nods towards the stage, “Now go get your picture taken, my little winner.”

You smile as you grab your award, making your way through the sea of people clapping. You walk up on stage, standing between two of the other girls and you bite your tongue as you see Deana sitting there with her arms crossed, pouting like a child.

You look in front of you to the sea of people taking pictures, you swear if you don’t get vision problems from the stage lights, it’ll be from the flashes of the cameras.

“Y/n. Did you make this dress yourself?” One of the photographers asks and you nod, “I sure did.” You step forward, twirling around to give them a full 360 of your gown.

“It’s beautiful!” They say and you smile, “Thank you!” You step back and Zack walks up to the microphone, “Another round of applause before I set these ladies free to celebrate.”

The audience claps and stands up, cheering and whistling for you all. You knew the industry was important, but you now realized just how important it really is.

“Alright girls.” Zack walks up to you and the others and claps his hands together, “Go celebrate! You deserve it!”

You all say thank you in unison and you make your way back to Sam.

“I’m so proud of you.” He pulls you in, kissing your forehead, “so fucking proud.”

You lean back, looking up at him, “Were free to celebrate.” He raises an eyebrow, “Are we?” You nod, standing up as you hold your hand up, “We are.”

He takes your hand and grabs your award for you before you lead him out of the room.

A string of congratulations follows you all the way to the elevator and you are feeding off the high of winning right now.

You loved it.

The elevator opens and Sam walks you in, spinning you around so his lips can meet yours. Your arms move around his neck as your back presses against the cool metal of the elevator wall.

“You deserve this..” he kisses back your jaw, “So much.” He kisses down your neck and you pull him into you, turning your head so you can kiss his lips again.

The elevator dings and he pulls away, glancing up at the floor number, “C’mon.” He slides his hand down your arm and takes your hand, leading you to the room.

He pulls the key from his pocket, unlocking the door and you both file in. He hands your award to you, “Before we take this dress off of you, let me get your picture.”

You take it, smiling as you pose for him.

“God you’re perfect.” He sets his phone down and you set your award down, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

“Let’s get this dress off of you, yeah?” Sam pulls you to him and his hands slide to your back. His fingers gently pull down the zipper and he pulls the sleeves gently from your arms.

And slowly. Just like he said he was thinking about doing.

He slowly tugs it down your body, letting it pool at your feet, “Step out for me.”

You step out and he moves it, kissing up your thighs, torso, and chest as he makes his way back up to your lips. His arms wrap around your waist as his lips move in a slow sync with yours.

You pull him towards the bed and you sit down, watching as he shrugs his jacket off then slips his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor.

He walks over, hovering his body over yours as he brushes hair from your face, “I can’t believe that after all these years..” he smiles and shakes his head, “Yours finally mine.”

You smile, “We move fast.” You joke with a laugh, “Got engaged right off the bat.”

He chuckles and shrugs, “Not the worst thing in the world.” He dips his head down, kissing you as you run your hand through his hair.

“Do you wanna do this?” He leans back and you furrow your brows, “Please. I’ve thought about this everyday for the last few years.”

“Really?” He laughs and smiles and you tilt your head, “Well, maybe not everyday but you know what I mean.” He nods, pressing his lips to yours, “I do.”

You slide your hands down his torso, undoing his jeans, “Please.” You whimper out, “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

He pushes himself up, and you watch him as he takes off his pants, and he watches you take off your panties. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he moves his body back onto yours.

Your legs part, knees resting on his hips as he stares down at you, “You ready?”

You nod, “Uh huh.” You lay a hand on his cheek, gasping as you feel his cock starting to slip inside of you, “Fuck.” He groans out, dropping his head to rest his forehead against yours.

Your legs move to wrap around his waist and you moan, “S-Sam.”

He pushes in all the way and you gasp, whimpering as you squeeze his cock. He moans, “S-shit.” His lips crash onto yours as he slowly thrusts in and out, feeling you as much as he can for the very first time.

“You feel incredible.” He whispers, “So fucking good.”

You moan, arching your back off the bed. You tangle your fingers into his hair and tug slightly, earning another groan from his lips.

“I love you.” He moans against your lips and you freeze. You’ve said it to each other, but as friends and mainly on birthday posts or something, but now it has a whole other meaning.

“Sorry.” He leans up, giving you a worried look. You stare at him, brushing hair from his forehead, “I love you.”

He smiles and his lips meet yours as his thrusts pick up again, “Every time I said it..” he whispers, a quiet moan following behind, “I’ve meant it this way.”

You nod, “Me too, baby.” You smile and pull him down to kiss him again. You gently bite his bottom lip and he groans, “Fuck.”

He smirks and kisses down your neck, biting and sucking spots into it as you moan out, “S-so close. So close.”

“Cum for me.” His words push you over the edge and you cling to him as he works you through your high, “That’s it baby.” He kisses your cheek over to your lips.

You gasp at how much pleasure your feelings right now, “Fuck, fuck.”

He groans, “I’m not.. gonna be able to hold it much longer..”

You nod, pulling him down to kiss you again, and a few thrusts later, he pulls out and you feel him spill onto your stomach.

He rolls over, laying on his back as you both breathe heavy, taking in what just happened. You look over at him, “So that happened.” He smirks and nods, “Yeah, yeah it did.”

You laugh slightly and look around, “Sam, can you-“

“Already on it.” He gets up and walks into the bathroom. You hear his phone going off, “Sam. Your phone is going off.”

He walks out with a towel and looks at it quick, “Yeah it’s just Colby. I’ll call him back in a second.” He walks over to you, wiping you off and you sit up, just as your phone goes off, too.

“Now mines going off.” You laugh slightly and stand up, grabbing the robe off the door and slipping it on as you walk over to your purse.

You pull your phone out, “I have three missed calls from Lilly and two from Colby.” You look at Sam as he slips his shorts on, “That’s not good.”

You toss him his phone and you call Lilly while he calls Colby.

“About time you call me back.” Lilly says on the other end.

“Yeah, sorry Lilly. I was celebrating.” You laugh slightly.

“Did Colby tell Sam?” She asks and you shake your head slightly, confused, “Did Colby tell Sam what?” You ask looking at Sam again, and his eyes go wide, “um. I’m guessing whatever it is, he just found out.”

You put Lilly on speaker, “What is happening?”

Sam burst out laughing, “Oh fucking shit.” He looks at you and puts Colby on speaker. You set your phone down, “Can someone tell me what’s happening?”

“You guys are trending on twitter.” Colby and Lilly say at the same time and your eyes go wide, “Excuse me!?”

Colby laughs on the phone, “Yeah, um. Hashtag Sam Golbach Engagement is now the third most trending hashtag..”

You look up at Sam and he has his hand over his mouth, “I don’t.. I don’t even..” he shrugs and Lilly laughs, “You my dear are just one above him with hashtag y/n and Sam Engaged.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You laugh, unsure of what to do, “what do we do?”

Sam walks over, pulling you into him, “I don’t even.. I didn’t think..” he laughs, which makes you laugh, “Oh my god, Sam. This is unbelievable.”

You look at your phone, “Lilly. Why did you give me the idea for this!?”

“I didn’t think you’d actually ask him to pretend to be your fiancé!” She laughs and Colby chimes in, “Well, looks like we have a wedding to plan.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

My apologies if this absolutely sucks, I feel like this isn’t my best work. but I hope you enjoyed it either way.

If you want one for Colby, you know what to do.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

Readers dresses - I like to give a visual sometimes

#sam and colby #sam and colby one shots #samandcolby-ownme #sam golbach #sam and colby smut #dirty one shot #smut #one shot smut #fluff #xplr fluff #sam golbach dirty one shots #sam golbach x you #sam Golbach fluff #fluff one shots #smut and fluff #sam golbach one shots #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach smut #smut writer #smut one shots #sam Golbach one shot fluff

[wheresarizona]

Learning to Live Part 32

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hadn't wanted one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Big tantrum?” Benito asked.

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

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

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

The other two men were smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What did he mean by that?

“What about you, Javi?” Ken asked.

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

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

He met the other man’s eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know—are you okay, baby?”

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

Oh, she was drunk and missed him.

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

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

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

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

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

He could tell she held the phone toward them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was already on the road heading toward town.

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

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

“Probably.” He shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Meh, you’re cuter.”

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

“Fine.”

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

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

His mouth turned down in a frown.

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

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

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

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

“Calling Javi,” Cielito answered.

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

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

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

“I need him,” she whined.

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

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

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

“Yes?” she answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, baby, I’m still here.”

“Where are you?”

“Maybe ten minutes away.”

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

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

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

What she said had Javier grinning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To your left.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked so cute and it had him smiling.

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

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

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

“Oh my god, yesss!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that moisturizer?”

“Yes.”

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

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

Her bottom lip was trembling, and it worried him.

“You love me,” she whispered.

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

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

“You love me,” she repeated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you feeling?” he whispered.

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

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

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

“I mean it this time.”

“Uh-huh, right.”

“I do—this is embarrassing.”

“I think it’s good practice.”

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

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

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

His eyebrows furrowed. “Seahorses?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re definitely more badass than me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you still feel sick?”

“Not really—just dizzy.”

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

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

“Okay, mi amor.”

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

“Yes, Cielito?”

“You’re worth it.”

“Worth what…?”

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

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

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

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

“And I can’t fucking wait, Mr. Peña.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She giggled. "Your babies will be spoiled."

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

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

"I know," you sighed.

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

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

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

She straightened and turned around to pick it up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sound of his voice had your heart beating faster.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are we alone?" he countered

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

"Yep."

“You feel beautiful.”

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

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

Your eyebrows creased. “Orders? What orders?”

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

“That is insane.”

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

“It’s sweet and extremely intense.”

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

You smiled. “Gotta love loopholes.”

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

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

“Maybe both?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, mi amor?”

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

"Not as good as you."

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

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

"A beautiful mess."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm in love."

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

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

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I just wanna know.”

“But why does it matter?”

“You’re deflecting.”

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is better…”

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

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

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

“Yes, Cielito?”

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

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

“I hope so.”

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

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

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

His timbre deepened. “Yes.”

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

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

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

He was frowning. “Are they uncomfortable?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, Robyn,” he said.

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

“Okay,” he replied.

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

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

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

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

He lifted your hand and kissed the back of it.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I know you will, and I’ll be there.”

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

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

He sighed again. “Fine. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And wasn't that just the sweetest thing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I hope he does."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"When isn't he?"

The question made you laugh. "Touché."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I think it suits me better, too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Folded laundry…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Javier ground his teeth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's a special job?"

"It's very special."

"Sissy's gonna throw flowers?"

"Yes, flower petals."

"It's a special job, too?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, excited and nervous.”

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

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

“What was your first impression of her?”

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

“What’d you do for your first date?”

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

“When did you know you loved her?”

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

“Mi mamá loves that song,” Seb said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She meant the swear jar.

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

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

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

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

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

The man was a lifesaver.

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

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

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

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

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

The story made you smile.

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Pop. I needed it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I fucking hope so."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His father accepted it.

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

"You did good, buddy,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, she was so fucking gorgeous.

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

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

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

Wait.

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

Javi was having a panic attack.

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

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

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

The music had stopped playing.

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

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

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

“Sorry,” he whispered.

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

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

“Wanna get married?”

“More than anything.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s get married.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—or folding laundry together,” Steve interjected.

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

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

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

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

“Go ahead,” Javi said.

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

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

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

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

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

“I do,” Javi said.

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

“I do,” you answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just Javi’s fine,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

You had to take a deep breath to calm yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The glasses?” he asked with a smirk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Our love is true love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do mean it all,” he said.

She was smiling. “I know.”

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

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

Javier sighed.

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

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

She giggled, and he smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Zero,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you,” she told him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was the best day of his entire fucking life.

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

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

Mr. and Mrs. Peña.

Nothing sounded more perfect.

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

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

Steve shouted, “Cover her eyes, Connie!”

Prev - Next - Series Masterlist - Masterlist

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

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

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

[lycheedr3ams]

Congratulations on your account growth!! <33 (─‿‿─)♡

I followed you for that König story you wrote and I've been eating your works since then; truly, I loved your writing at first glance. Looking forward to future account growths!

Request: territorial!König x Gn!Reader •v• The rumor of Reader being the barracks bunny is false, obviously, but still, word got around. The rumors reached the highly respected and feared colonel König who confronted Reader and maybe...left a mark on them to show everyone who they belong to. Who they only belong to. Fluff/angst is fine, dom!König, so he's rough+degradation.

Everything else is up to you and please feel free to adjust or change anything to your liking! I just adore a territorial König story(⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

Thank you for your support!!!!!! You are so sweet

I love this ask!!! I love me a territorial, possessive man.... I have changed a few things tho. Personally, I think that colonel konig screenshot we all saw was fake info in the sense that the devs keep changing Kpnig's lore and stuff. I don't think he'd be able to be a colonel bc of his social anxiety, and his gear is just shit he put together. Besides, I lowkey like loser perv konig who isn't a colonel lol

I also made it she/her fem reader, i just don't relate to GN reader enough to write for it. I hope you still like it!!! also this turned out to be a lot longer than i had planned lol

...

Barracks Bunny

fem!reader x territorial!dom!konig

MDNI

Warnings: harddom!konig, degradation, rough sex, possessiveness, p in v sex, rumors going around about reader, territorialness (not a word but whatever), semi-public sex, slight humiliation, biting, not proofread

you had spent some time with konig since you first met him, and he eventually invited you to his room. you didn't care who saw you follow him to his room in the barracks, you just knew you needed him and his cock. the first time you both had sex, it was the best you ever had. his grunts flooded your ears as he took you from behind, pressing you down into the mattress with his hand on your middle back.

"arch for me, just like that," he praised. he couldn't get enough of your moans and the way your wet pussy perfectly sucked him in. he wanted to cum inside you so badly, but you told him no.

after that, you two had sex with each other at least three times a week when he was on base. some people who lived in that wing saw you entering and leaving his room, always looking a bit more disheveled than when you entered. but there were others who didn't see you leaving konig's room specifically, and their minds were left to wonder who the lucky guy was that night.

...

you had noticed that a lot of the men around base had been looking at you in a much more...predatory way when you walked around. sometimes, they would whisper as you walked past. you chalked it up to immaturity and harmless crushes, but you learned it was so much more than that when konig shoved you against his wall one night right as you stepped into his room.

"you told me I was the only one!" he whisper-yelled at you. his eyes glowed almost red from inside his hood.

"what are you talking about??"

"do you really not know?" he asked a bit more quiet this time. you shook your head, your eyes wide. konig sighed.

"they say you are the 'barracks bunny'. you know what that means, ja?"

your eyes widened and your heart sunk. so that's why everyone was looking at you like that? You looked up at konig, scared, and his eyes slightly softened at your expression.

"konig...I don't know why they'd say that. i've only been sleeping with you, i swear."

he stared into your soul for the next few moments, mulling over in his head if he should believe you or not. he leaned down and his breath ghosted your neck through his hood.

"you are mine" he growled. you couldn't help the way you shivered as his words went straight to your core. "and i'm going to prove that to every man on base, right now."

"wha-" before you knew what was happening, konig picked you up roughly and threw you onto his bed. you had never seen the way he was looking at you now: with eyes that could kill a thousand men. you weren't sure if the growl you barely heard was real or your imagination.

"strip," he commanded.

"konig, what do you mean you're -"

"don't make me repeat myself," his sentence clipped and precise. you gulped, and undressed yourself on his bed until you were bare before him, and your clothes were just a pile on the floor. you looked up at him with wide eyes. he slowly backed away, still looking at you, as he slowly turned the knob to his door and cracked it open a tiny bit. light from the hallway was streaming in through a little rectangle onto the wall. thankfully, the open space was facing the wall rather than you.

"konig, what're you doing?"

he rested one knee on his bed as he leaned down and looked at you. he was still in his camos and tight black shirt, just the way you liked it.

"showing these men who you really belong to."

he quickly pinned you underneath him and smashed his lips against yours, barely pulling his hood up all the way. it was so rushed that his hood got in the way of the kiss, and he angrily yanked it aside so that he could completely feel your lips. he bit your lip harshly, and you mewled.

"that's it," he praised as he licked your lip. "keep making those sounds. let every man here know who's making you feel this way."

he began to kiss your neck, feigning innocence, before he bit hardly on the space where your neck met your shoulder. you yelped louder this time, not prepared for the sting of his canines in your soft flesh. he laughed and bit you again.

"konig!!" you said loudly, not caring who heard you at the moment. "that hurt!"

he laughed darkly. "oh, my poor barrack bunny. you think i'm gonna go easy on you tonight?" he mocked. "nein," he growled in your ear. "i'm going to fuck you so hard that the only thing you remember is my name."

he pawed at your breasts hungrily, like they were his lifeline, like they were the last thing he would ever touch. you couldn't help but glance over at the sliver of light against the wall dimming every so often as soldiers walked by. you moaned loudly when konig sucked on your nipple. his siege on your boobs was relentless, his teeth teasing your sensitive nipple.

"seems you like this, ja?" he teased. "already so loud, and i haven't even fucked you yet."

he next went straight for your pussy. he spread you open wide by underneath of your knees, and didn't let you catch your breath before he attached his mouth to your wet cunt. he purposely slurped and sucked louder than he ever had, and you were already almost screaming. you slapped your hand over your mouth to keep you from being too loud as you saw people's shadows walking by.

konig roughly grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head.

"if you do that, i'm going to have to keep your arms restrained, ja?" he warned. "no hiding your sounds."

all you could do was nod as he squeezed your wrists. when you agreed, he went back to devouring your pussy. you listened to him this time, and you were nearly screaming with how hard he made you cum. the little beam of light from the hallway was dimmed for a while that time as soldiers stopped to listen.

konig sat up and unbuckled his belt in a rush, his fingers fumbling with the buckle as his cock threatened to rip through his pants. he pulled his pants and boxers down slightly with a hiss as his cock sprang free. it was completely erect, and slightly red at the tip already. he looked up at you darkly before he spread you wide again and shoved it all the way in without warning.

"KONIG!" you screamed. he grunted loudly before slowly thrusting into you, giving you a chance to get used to him for a moment. his huge body was blocking you from seeing if anyone was listening just outside the door. you tried to peek your head around him, when he punished you with a particularly hard thrust.

"no looking," he growled as he slammed into you again. "you just focus on me."

your face scrunched up in a mix of pleasure and pain as konig slammed into you again and again and again. his balls slapped against your ass loudly with each thrust, and your pussy was soaked. you threw your head back as he finally set a steady pace of punishing thrusts straight up to your cervix. it only took five thrusts for you to start nearly screaming.

"that's it," konig gasped as he pounded you. "let everyone hear you."

your pussy clenched at his words, and he laughed.

"oh, the barrack bunny likes that, doesn't she?" he teased. he leaned down, still pounding you, as he whispered in your ear. "they're listening right outside, you know. they can hear how well you take me. how hard i fuck you. let them hear. go on."

you clenched hard around him as you moaned and mewled and screamed. his pace got even faster, and the headboard began to bang against the wall. anyone walking by would definitely hear that. the sounds of the metal headboard hitting the wooden wall, your deep moans, and the slapping of skin on skin was so loud that it drowned out all thoughts.

you repeated konig's name like a mantra as he pounded you. he grunted. "see? i told you the only thing you'd be saying was my name."

suddenly, he came with a grunt, and you felt a wave of hot fill your cervix as his tip pressed against it and filled it to the point of overflowing. a ring of white formed around his cock as it twitched inside you.

that night, all the soldiers knew that you were certainly konig's, and only konig's, barrack bunny.

#cod mw2 #konig fic #konig smut #konig cod #konig imagine #call of duty mw2 #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig #konig mw2 #konig modern warfare #ask #thanks for the ask! #konig x you #cod konig #konig fanfiction #konig fluff #konig headcanons #konig fanart #konig x y/n #cod fanfic #cod smut #könig cod #cod art #cod modern warfare #cod fanart #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare #mw2 #könig modern warfare

[eyesofshinigami]

Gifts

Rating: T

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, fluff, minor sexual content

Prompt: For @forgottenkanji "Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy"

WC: 653

Written for Day 29 of @steddielovemonth

He tells himself it’s going to be worth it. Standing here in thirty degree weather, shivering his ass off, waiting for the ticket office to open. Steve can picture the look on Eddie’s face when he shows up on their anniversary with Metallica tickets and that almost makes it worth it.

Three hours he’s been standing out here. The line is getting longer and longer, so he’s glad he made the decision to skip work for the day to come. 

Almost. His toes are still fucking freezing. 

“Hey man, you in the right line?” a couple of guys behind him snicker, and Steve has to keep from rolling his eyes. 

“Sure am. Friend of mine really likes the band and couldn’t make it out, so I figured I would grab tickets for him,” Steve lies smoothly. It’s not really any of these guys’ business, but he’s learned that it’s sometimes the best way to deal with people like this. 

The guys are quiet and one finally pipes up, “That’s kind of awesome, man. Sorry.”

Steve waves them off, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. He checks his watch; eight o’clock, the box office should open very soon. He had felt a little bad lying to Eddie, saying that he was going for a run and then had to get to work early, but he’d make it up to him with kisses later on. 

He hears cheers go up and the line starts moving, butterflies kicking up in his belly. The counter comes into view and the bored girl at the desk pops her gum as he gets the tickets. Middle seats, nothing fancy, but it’ll be enough to make Eddie lose his mind. 

Steve can’t wait.

–

Two weeks later they’re laying in bed, sweaty after sex and full of Jim’s Chinese from down the block. It’s been one of the best anniversaries Steve can remember, and he knows it’s about to get even better. 

“Got you a present,” he tells Eddie, reaching over to his nightstand to pull out the envelope he’s been hiding there for the last two weeks. He can’t wait to see the look on Eddie’s face; it’s going to be worth being cold for three hours and the subsequent runny nose that followed. 

Eddie grins, eyes shining. “I got you one too.” He reaches over and grabs something from his own bedside table. “On the count of three?” 

Together, they say, “One… two… three!”

They each hand the other a similar looking envelope. Eddie opens his first, and lets out a screech of pleasure. “Holy shit!!! Metallica tickets? I thought they sold out!!” He tackles Steve to the bed, kissing his face obnoxiously. “How?”

“Went and waited in line,” Steve replies, because yup, absolutely worth it. “I wanted to get them for you.”

Eddie’s eyes are a little wet and he pulls his hair in front of his face, delighted. “Okay, now you. Then I’m going to ride you into the mattress because I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Heart full, Steve opens up his own envelope, only to find a pair of tickets to go see the Bulls play next Saturday. His eyes go wide. “Eddie, what? You got me Bulls tickets? How-?” 

“Asked that guy Jake at your work and I went down the other day and got them. I thought you would like them.”

“But you hate sports!”

Eddie shrugs, looking bashful again. “Yeah, but you don’t. I thought it would nice, you know? We could go together? Unless you want to take like… Jake or something, but-”

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence. Steve is pulling him close, kissing him like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Their bodies press together and Steve is so ready to show Eddie how much he appreciates him. Repeatedly, until neither of them can move. 

All in all, a pretty great anniversary, he’d say.

#steddie #steddielovemonth #les writes things

[hazelsmirrorball]

 Rockstar girlfriend II. | Hazel Callahan

Rockstar! Hazel Callahan x Popstar! Reader Summary: Hazel Callahan and Y/n L/n have to be in a pr relationship, but both of them can stand each other.  Warnings: Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Heavy makeout session,  smoking. English isn’t my main language  a/n: Wrote this in class so I hope you gusy enjoy! Plus I’m really grateful on all the love you gave to the last one 

part one. part three. part four. part five

Heart throb and Rock sensation, Hazel Callahan from the band ‘The Bottoms’ was caught making out with a C list celebrity.   

Every press was good press or at least that was something her manager tried to convince her that being associated with Hazel Callahan was a good thing for her career. She wanted to agree but seeing the picture stare back at her with that damn headline made her go insane. She couldn’t believe it was even possible to be more pissed off at Hazel Callahan, more than she once was. Hazel got praised for the things she did. Rock sensation and Heart Throb and what did Y/n get? C list celebrity? Was this some type of cruel joke? Did Hazel personally know the writer of the article? Was she fucking them? Either way she was on the editors good side and also on the press good side. 

The picture had gotten a lot of attention, like a LOT of attention. The publicity stunt had done its job  spreading like wildfire. Hazel’s ring covered hands gripping onto her ass while Y/n moaned into the kiss. Hazel white tank tops rose up whilst Y/n’s skirt was almost at her stomach.  Both of the girls' hair was a mess and both of them look like they enjoy the kiss. 

The picture haunted Y/n’s head, there was evidence that she was melting into her biggest enemy's touch. Everything was a constant reminder of that. Instead of Y/n falling asleep pissed out of her mind because of some random shit Hazel did now she found herself falling asleep flustered. The only thought running through her head was Hazel's hands running all over her body and her sweet kisses. She had heard through other celebrities that Hazel was a good kisser but never would it cross her mind that she was going to test that theory. When Y/n tried writing a song she would find herself unconsciously trying to find words that rhyme with Hazel. If the lingering touch wasn’t enough all Y/n could see was the damn picture of them making out. In very elaborate almost pornographic fan edits, news articles and magazines, t-shirts, everywhere. Even Brittney went to the point of making that picture her wallpaper to mess with her. 

Things were different now, not a good different, but different. She still despised Hazel; the only thing that had changed was the kiss between the two and the fact that people now knew that they didn’t hate each other. So their PR team was actually onto something because song streams from both sides were upping by the minute. Gaining followers left to right, both fandoms trying to uncover which song was dedicated for who. Every drama reporter and Late Night show host tried contacting their management team just to get the scoop on what was happening between the two. So management made it their mission to ride that heat of the moment.  

That’s how Y/n, Isabel and Brittney found themselves backstage in The Bottoms concert. Management wanted people to link Hazel with Y/n as the “Rock Star girlfriend” so after fighting for her manager for what felt like hours she found herself pushing past people to find Hazel. Her management team wanted fans to see Y/n wearing something that belonged to Hazel, so  they would think they were a couple. 

Y/n looked at the door in front of her, Hazel name written in her messy writing on a small whiteboard. Her hand reached towards the door handle, slowly opened the door to the dressing room. Y/n instantly scrunched up her nose as the smell of cigarettes overtook her nostrils. She looked around the dark room in front of her furrowing her eyes. The room was filled with half empty beer bottles, pizza boxes, several cigarette budds, dirty shirts and other things she couldn’t even understand what they were. They had only been here for a day, how was it possible for her to make such a mess. 

“Aren’t you going to say hi to your favorite girl?” A voice spoke, making Y/n turn towards the couch watching how Hazel inhaled the smoke from her cigarette. Hazel leaned back comfortably onto the leather couch, her leather covered legs spread open as she looked at her with barely open eyes. Y/n’s eyes followed her lips watching how the smoke slowly escaped her lips. She could feel her face turn red cursing herself for feeling like this in front of her. 

“Hello.” Y/n barely managed to get out, not knowing what to say. Usually she would bitch out at Hazel with ease. Going off for hours annoyed at the girl, but now she was a flustered mess, imagining those leather pants rubbing against her thighs. 

“L/n? You are usually very vocal? Ever since our little work session you don’t know what to say. My hotness finally caught up to you?” Hazel replied, tapping her cigarette on the ashtray next to her, stubbing it out. She sent a smile her way, running her now available ring-covered hands over her pants slowly. Hazel smirked watching how Y/n’s eyes didn’t leave her hands. 

“Shut up” Y/n mumbled, gaining her composure glaring down at her, her anger once again showing up. Hazel let out a chuckle not moving from her place looking at Y/n through her long eyelashes. Y/n noticed the hint of a mischievous look in her eyes. What was she thinking about? 

“What? Is my little D lister bitch flustered? Remember this is all professional, L/n. If it weren’t for this stupid contract I wouldn’t let you five feet near me. You are lucky that I even touch you.” Hazel replied tauntingly, sending a smirk her way. Her arms stretched against the backrest of the couch. Y/n lips scrunched up as she furrowed her eyebrows pissed off out of her mind. Y/n moved towards Hazel pulling her towards Y/n by the silver chain that adorned her neck. 

“Let me tell you something, Callahan. I don’t want this. If it weren't from my damn manager fighting with me to be here, I would be anywhere but here. So don’t get too cocky, like you said this, this is professional. So you can call me an actress, because your touch didn’t do shit” Y/n gripped on her chain harder as Hazel looked up at her fake shook covering her face. Her hands reached up in a defensive manner while her gaze turned in her usually cocky one. 

“They don’t call me a master with my hands just because I’m good with the guitar, sweetheart. I know how to differentiate a fake moan from a real one and what you did wasn't fake.” Hazel reached out towards Y/n pushing a string of her hair behind her ear sending a shiver  up  her spine.  Y/n searched for the words to say but she couldn’t find a word in the dictionary to make a comeback. Hazel hands reached towards her waist pushing Y/n down on her lap. 

“You look stressed, why don’t you take a smoke?” Hazel continued reaching for the table next to them, handing her  the box of cigarettes. Y/n looked down at the cigarettes in her lap and slowly looked up at Hazel taking in every inch of her. 

“I don’t smoke” Y/n replied, looking to the side. Hazel took the box of cigarettes in her hand, taking one out and placing it on her lips. She quickly bucked her hips up still holding onto Y/n with one hand to slip out her lighter. Hazel pushed  the end of the lighter against Y/n chin making her look at her. 

“You are tense, you need to ease down. So help me out, pretty girl” The said while gripping onto the cigarette on her teeth. Hazel handed the lighter to Y/n waiting for her to light it up. Y/n slowly leaned in, turning the lighter on the flame hitting Hazel’s skin making her glow. Y/n looked at Hazel’s closed eyes, the messy smokey liner surrounding her eyes caused a small smile to form on her lips. Hazel slowly gripped on her waist to make her continue. She slowly lights up the cigarette resting her hand on Hazel’s cheek. Turning off the lighter and placing it on the table next to her, not breaking eye contact with Hazel. 

Hazel closed her eyes inhaling the smoke for a few seconds keeping the smoke inside her mouth. She removed the cigarette slowly searching for Y/n’s eyes leaning towards, her lips hovering Y/n’s lips. Hazel placed the cigarette down on the ashtray slowly placing her thumb in between Y/n’s lips slowly opening them up. Hazel blew out the smoke on to Y/n’s mouth. Y/n closed her eyes, humming from the sensation. Y/n attached their lips together finding herself in the same predicament as a few days ago. Both girls fighting for dominance not wanting to lose the upper hand. 

But before Hazel could even do anything else, Y/n’s had moved her lips from hers and latched onto her neck. Y/n left sloppy kisses on Hazel’s neck, she kisses all over trying to find Hazel’s sweet spot. After a few seconds a soft whimper escaped from Hazel’s lips making Y/n smirk into her neck. She worked on that area whilst Hazel bit her lip in an attempt to cover her moans. 

“If you aren’t vocal, I’ll stop sweetheart” Y/n replied imitating Hazel's usual tone , blowing against the freshly done hickey. Hazel glared at her, taking her by the neck and pushing her against the couch pinning her down. Y/n looked up at her pissed out of her mind, while Hazel smirked her chain hanging against her face softly hitting her nose. 

“Never forget who’s in charge” She replied, letting go of her neck and moving off her heading towards the door. 

“Where are you even going?” Y/n asked looking up from the couch. Hazel chuckled turning towards her. 

“I’m going to do a show, so don’t miss me too much” and with that Hazel was gone. 

Hazel maybe had won the fight but Y/n was going to win the war. The next morning news articles made Y/n wake up in joy. Headliners making her go insane but this time in a good way. 

Y/n L/n, popstar sensation, making it known that her bass playing girlfriend is hers. 

...

Thank you for reading!

next part

[previous part]

#hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan imagine #hazel x reader #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #ruby cruz x reader #ruby cruz #kit tanthalos x reader #kit tanthalos #lesbian #wlw #sapphic

[aliaology]

NOW THAT WE DONT TALK

summary: jack realizes yns music is quite literally a call out, directed towards him, and his brothers egg it on. pt.3

series masterlist

“i called my mom, she said ‘that it was for the best!’ remind myself the more i gave, you’d want me less”

jack could’ve hit his head against the counter ten more times and the song would still be ringing through his ears like a splinter that wouldn’t come out of his hand.

quinns hand made contact with the back of jacks head. “knock it off, jack.”

jack groaned, shoving his head into his arms. he groaned again, this time the noise being muffled due to the his arm. “she wrote a song about me, quinn.”

quinn rolled his eyes. “you don’t know its about you” he told.

jack scoffed, head shooting up. “she literally called me out. the parties, that stupid red sea reference, even the chorus. its so obviously me. and then her newer single that dropped thirty minutes ago?’

quinn shrugged, “could be about trevor”

jack rolled his eyes, “no way in hell, quinn. they never hooked up and her newer one is about some guy hooking up with her later on—“

“you sound obsessed, jack.” quinn told. jack looked down, embarrassed.

“whats jack obsessed with?” trevor asked, walking inside the kitchen. he stole a grape from jack and popped it into his mouth.

“y/n’s song” quinn spoke.

trevor scoffed, “why are you so hung up on it? its just music.” trevor shrugged.

“hes upset because hes getting called out.”

jack groaned again, head hitting the counter.

quinn rolled his eyes again. “you’ve gotta stop doing that dude. listen— she probably made these ages ago and just now got to releasing them.”

trevor popped another grape in his mouth. “not too sure about that, but i know she started writing them when you two broke up.”

luke slowly walks in. “seriously? you guys are torturing the man talking about his ex.”

jack nods, signifying lukes words to be true.. luke goes into the cupboard to grab a plate. “just ignore it.” he shrugged.

trevor snorted. jack sent the boy a glare, causing his laughter to abruptly stop. “how can i just ignore it? shes getting big and her music is everywhere already.” he asked.

quinn gave him a look. “then face it, jack. you can’t keep putting yourself in denial for something you caused.”

jack let out an exasperated groan for the 100th time. “gee, thanks quinn. way to make me feel better.”

“dont start giving him shit, jack.” luke spoke.

jack rolled his eyes. “whatever, im going to my room.” he got up and went for the stairs.

all three boys looked around at each other. silence fell through the room. suddenly, the sliding door opens. “whats going on?” cole asked.

“quinn picked his side of the argument.” trevor spoke, slightly glaring at quinn.

quinn gave one back, “dont act innocent, trevor. you screwed her over too. you and jack need to own up to it and stop cowering like little kids. you are both in your twenties for fucks sake. grow up.”

quinn went off to his room, leaving a wide eyed group of boys behind.

jacks brows furrowed as he listened to the song in his earbuds. his girlfriend napped next to him as he sat up on the bed. he hates to admit it, but he kinda deserved this.

“lets fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later. if shes got blue eyes, i will surmise that you’ll probably date her. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor, you search in every model—“

he stopped the song, taking his earbuds out and tossing them to the floor. he cheated, and now was dating the girl he cheated with. it was sad, really.

fiona, she was a woman who loved money. jack, was a man who loved attention. maybe that’s why they were together. but she wasn’t horrible like people said, right?

quietly, he went to tik tok and made a fake account, that way she knew he didn’t stalk her profile. i mean— she has no idea he even uses it still.

jack searched fionas name up, ultimately clicking on her profile. she had one video up. he clicked on it.

ick ick ick ick

she was lip syncing that really terrible audio that went ‘he chose me, he dont want you. he chose me’ and honestly, jack was appalled.

but before he could open the comments, she started to wake up. he swiped out of the app and deleted it, tossing his phone to the side afterwards.

“hey baby.” he smiled.

now that we dont talk!

tags! @honethatty12 (if u want tags, just ask <3)

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl imagine #new jersey #new jersey devils #nhl #nhl hockey #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #mitch marner

[thelovelyruin]

𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖚𝖊 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : you heard choso was an eater, and you wanna find out if it’s true.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, HORNY, let's be honest, porn with very little plot, oral sex, praise, teasing, fingering.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 2.7K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from tongue twister by cash cash.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! probably the horniest shit i’ve ever written. i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

I want your tongue twister; got me beggin' for your head spinner!

Now, when you heard from a friend of a friend of a friend that Choso was an eater, you took it with a grain of salt. You hadn’t seen him talk to anyone since about a year ago, but that was when he broke up with his ex (who you’d assume was the one who started the rumor); she cheated or something like that; you didn’t give a damn because you had a boyfriend at the time. But that was a year ago. And Choso looked fine now. He’d had a bit of glow-up since then, doing a new hairstyle since he let his hair grow out, some tattoos, and working out a bit. He also became a little more social, still keeping to himself but a little more outgoing at parties and whatnot. You’d never really had a conversation with him, only ever seeing him on campus, both of you wrapped up in conversations to really notice each other. That was until right now.

I want it, I want it; let's get loud!

“CHOSO, CHOSO, CHOSO!”

They’d all been doing a strikeout competition, which pretty much consisted of taking a hit of a blunt, doing a shot, chugging a beer, and then, finally, exhaling. Most guys throw up or can’t even make it past the shot, but Choso had won three times now, which everyone was pretty damn excited about. You’d think he’d be hammered now, but technically, it had only been three shots, so no biggie, but they were tequila shots. He was a little tipsy, laughing as Yuuji raised his hand in celebration, the other guys getting hyped and banging on their chests, walking up to give him dap. Once the main event pretty much ended, you went to walk away until:

“Wait, wait, wait, you guys gotta see him do this thing!”

“Nah, Yuuji, I don’t think I can right now.”

“Nonsense, we got you; somebody get the damn cherries out the fridge.”

Now what the fuck were they gonna do with that? They brought them up to Choso, sitting them on the counter as everyone watched him pull one out the case.

“Fuck it.”

Choso put it in his mouth; what, he was gonna take a shot with a cherry in his mouth? That’s pretty basic compared to what he was just doing. Except he hadn’t taken a shot after. And did he eat the whole damn thing? What about the-

“HOLY SHIT HE DID IT!”

Choso stuck out his tongue, the stem of the cherry tied into a heart. Everyone went batshit, completely impressed by the trick. His friends, yet again, hyped him up. He looked around at everyone smiling, that was, until he made eye contact with you. And what did you look like? Flustered as fuck. When he pulled it onto his tongue, you felt something in the pit of your stomach, which shot straight on down. It was pretty fuckin’ hot. But why were you so excited? Because it proved, he really was an eater.

‘Cause I can't fight the feeling of your tongue twister, I want it!

You’d walked away after that; he’d gotten a rise out of you for sure, and you had to go cool down. You’d found Nobara and Mai by the pool, drinking some punch and smiling at you as you walked up to them.

“Told you!”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think he was gonna do that!”

“It’s a party trick, ya know. Yuuji on his shoulder, it was bound to happen.”

“You say that like you’ve seen it before!”

“‘Cause we have. He’s just not my type.”

Nobara shook her head in agreement, leaving you surprised. 

“Now, go get some punch and loosen up; we’re about to play beer pong soon.”

So fine girl, I must be dreamin'...

“Fine.”

With that, you walked back to the kitchen, grabbed a cup of punch, and headed back to-

“Hey.”

You almost jumped out of your damn skin. You knew it was him, you’d recognize his voice from earlier, but when you turned around, you hadn’t expected to see him like this. His eyes were half-lidded, bloodshot from being high probably, and flushed a bit from the alcohol. He leaned against the counter, eyes looking up at you.

“Um, hey.”

Now, Choso wasn’t a homewrecker. He thought you were pretty damn cute, but he knew you had a boyfriend, so he backed off. That was until tonight when he caught eyes with you and asked Yuuji about you, who told him you’d broken up with your ex a year ago, but Yuuji wasn’t always a reliable source. So, Choso was feeling a little hot, in a horny way; you possibly being single put a fire under his ass. So now, he was talking to you.

“Saw you earlier; why didn’t you play?”

“Oh, not really my type of game?”

“No? Why’s that?”

“I’m not a big tequila drinker. Um, my friends are waiting, so I should probably get going.”

You felt so hot; you had to go back to Mai and Nobara. There was no way you could keep doing this, especially when he looked like that, like some sort of animal that wanted to eat you alive. But then again, after tonight, that wasn’t so bad. You shot him a little wave and walked off; now you just had to find out where-

“Wait a second.”

He’d grabbed your arm now, not enough to hurt you, but enough to shift your attention back to him with a look that said you weren’t going anywhere. So, you didn’t.

“Um, what’s up?”

“You know, I gotta tell you somethin’.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“I think you’re real pretty. Usually, yeah, but tonight, your curves look pretty damn good in that dress.”

You wanted to respond; truly, you did, but you completely froze when he looked you dead in your eyes. You were about to die; your panties were probably fucking soaked from all this interaction with him. You were fuckin’ melting when he brought his hand behind your waist, bringing you closer to him. Choso brought his lips up to your ear, licking the skin there. He didn’t really give a fuck if you had a boyfriend at this point.

I’m comin' in, and you got me talkin'…

“Can I eat your pussy?” 

“Can you do wha-”

”You heard me, princess.” 

“Um, I uh-” 

“Meet me, upstairs bathroom, five minutes.”

With that, he let you go, walking off somewhere in the party. You were nearly panting. The fuck did he just ask you? You found Mai and Nobara at the ping pong tables, unable to speak.

“Oh, there you are. You okay?”

“Yeah, I just- um, I gotta go, uh, use the bathroom! But, I have to, um, just don’t check on me, I’ll be fine.”

“Uh, okay, girl. Call us if you need us.”

“Yeah, no problem!”

You walked away from them, still in shock from what was about to happen. He’d said 5 minutes, right? You could use the other 3 to get in there and cool off; try to act normal about this. You scurried up the stairs, controlling your breathing as you opened the bathroom door.

 It's about time; let my lips start walkin'!

“Here early, huh?”

Choso pulled you into the bathroom, making sure no one was looking and locking it behind him. He turned to look at you, walking up and kissing you softly. You felt like someone was putting you on ice, calming down a bit, but mostly because you didn’t want him to feel you shaking in anticipation. He was so laid back, pulling away to look at you.

“Why ya so nervous?”

“Is that even a question? You told me a couple minutes ago you wanted to eat me out, and now, we’re here for you to do that.”

He chuckled and brought his hands under your ass, lifting you to sit on the counter. He massaged your hips as he looked into your eyes, kissing you again, bringing his hand up to the back of your neck to deepen it. You couldn't help but bring your hands up to his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hand found its way to the arch in your back. Your fingers ran through his hair, and you swore you heard him groan a little into the kiss. He pulled away from you, half-lidded eyes looking at you up and down.

“Got a question for ya.”

“What’s that?”

“You got a boyfriend?”

“No, but it’s a little too late for that, huh?”

“Nah, I’d have you in here either way.”

Now you wanna make my head drop…

You blushed at his confidence as he brought his lips back to you, this time on your collarbones, sucking lightly as his hand rested on your thigh. When he got to the top of your dress, he came up and gave you a quick kiss, letting your straps down and hooking his fingers in the front of it to pull it down; your tits falling out. He brought his hand up to massage them, his mouth next to your ear again.

“Nice tits, princess.”

You felt your body perk up at his comment, making him chuckle as he brought his mouth down, taking a nipple in his mouth. That tongue of his was just getting started, sucking in and kissing your nipples as you moaned into his touch.  He’d been smiling at your positive reaction, bringing a hand down your body, feeling your pussy through your thong. He came up to your mouth and kissed you, smiling as his hand kept massaging your panty-clad pussy.

“This wet for me? I’m honored.”

God, you wished he’d shut the fuck up. Not because you didn’t like what he was saying, but because it was a little too physically effective. Choso was a little excited now, high on, well, high in general, but also on how worked up you’d gotten for him. Hooking his fingers in your thong, he pulled it down your legs, kissing the skin that led to the way back up. He had your body like putty in his hands, grabbing your ass and bringing you closer to the edge of the counter so he could get a good look at you. With two fingers, he spread your lips, precum soaking his fingers as he smiled at your reaction to him finally touching you.

Getcha in ya sweet spot…

“So fuckin’ pretty…”

Choso brought your legs over his shoulder, kissing your inner thighs as you squirmed, dying for him to touch you how you wanted. He chuckled at your reaction, then got to work. He brought his lips down to your pussy, letting his tongue split your folds like he was knocking on the damn door. That is until he opened the door for himself, sticking his tongue inside of you, dipping deep to make sure he could really taste you. You’d been moaning out, trying to keep as quiet as possible to ensure you didn’t alert anyone that the bathroom was extremely occupied.

Meanwhile, he was shamelessly groaning, exploring you like a hidden treasure. It was really when he moved his tongue to your clit that you were groaning his name, fingers in his hair as he lapped you up. He started slow, but then anticipation got the best of him, licking you up like his life depended on it. He felt too fuckin’ good, your pussy basically screaming at the satisfaction. 

He’d opened your legs with his hands at this point; you were so stimulated you couldn’t keep them closed. Then, there was that fuckin’ eye contact. He shot darts at you, watching your every move, closing your eyes, throwing your head back; he wanted to see it all. You’d arch your back every time he licked your clit up and down and pulled your body forward every time he circled it. Like a fuckin’ movie, and he was the director. You knew you couldn’t take it much longer; that fire inside of you was burning up, getting hotter by the second. At this point, you were grinding your pussy against his face, feeling him smile as you begged him to make you cum.

“I’m close…”

Choso kept going, this time a little slower, teasing you to hold out a little longer. He wasn’t quite done having fun. He’d decided he wanted to feel your pussy on his fingers before you came, pumping them in and out of you real slow but curling them up to hit that spot inside of you. With a final look at you, he picked up the pace with his tongue again, bringing his fingers out so his hands could keep your legs still. You were goin’ crazy, gripping the sink, his hair, anything, trying to brace yourself for what was about to come. And then, you came. You threw your head back as your body tensed up, hand steady in his hair. He brought his hand up to cover your mouth before you could get loud, feeling you screaming his name into his hand. 

Choso stood up now, wiping his face off and kissing you on your neck. He held you as you came down, head falling on his shoulder from how hard you came. He found your dress on the floor, putting it on you as you came to. You were spent. You had to hold your arms over his shoulders as he slid it up your body, kissing you when he brought it all the way up, and lastly, bringing his mouth to your ear.

“Such a good girl for me.”

Gonna make your body go crazy!

I want it; I want it one more time…

When you woke up the next day, it felt like almost nothing had happened until you saw the hickeys on your neck and legs. And you in Choso’s T-shirt. And his sheets. You immediately called Mai and Nobara to see what the hell happ-

“Oh, you’re up!”

Choso walked into the room, freshly showered, briefs hanging low on his waist that were quite thin, despite the very, um, thing they were meant to cover up.

“What happened last night? I know we-wait, did we?!”

“No, not all. After I ate you out, you damn near passed out, so I brought you back here to my place and gotcha all cleaned up, ya know, shower and took your makeup off. Then I put a shirt on you and laid you in my bed, so I took the couch. Didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anything.”

“Oh, um, thank you?”

“No problem, princess.”

He walked over to his dresser to get some clothes out, hanging his towel over the back of his chair. You know you probably shouldn’t, but you had to know; the thought was itching you.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to talk to you about your, um, reputation.”

“Oh, you talkin’ bout the rumors and stuff?”

“Yeah, those.”

Choso came over and sat with you on the bed, rubbing your thigh as he spoke.

“Yeah, I’ve heard ‘em. What people don’t know is that it originally came from Yuuji. The first time I did that cherry thing, he joked and said I looked like an eater, you know, like someone who, anyways, then it pretty much caught on. A lot of girls walk up to me these days, asking about its truthfulness and if they can test it out, but I’m not a very promiscuous guy. My last girl was last year, and that ended pretty toxic.”

I can't find the words to sing it: tongue twister! I want it, I want it!

“So, uh, why did you eat me out?”

“Well, I told you last night. I think you’re cute. I’ve seen you around for a while, but you're always in conversations with someone, I’m not one to interrupt. When I got a little fucked up last night, my dick pretty much told me to make a move, so here we are. I totally get if you’re not like looking for anything more than-”

“It’s not like that at all, um. It’s just surprising to hear you say all that.”

“So, what you’re saying is you do want that?”

“Um, I uh, yeah…”

He brought his lips to yours, kissing you passionately. When he pulled back from you, he gave you a smile as he blushed, but that ended pretty quickly when he brought his mouth to your ear.

“So, wanna go again?”

I wanna get you in a tongue twister, tied up in a tongue twister!

♱ the song used in this story is tongue twister by cash cash. 🖤

(this work is very different than my others! I encourage you to read speed. or fruit.)

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

#choso x reader #chosoxreader #choso x female reader #chosoxfemalereader #choso x you #chosoxyou #choso x y/n #chosoxy/n #choso x fem!reader #chosoxfem!reader #chosoxfemreader #chosoxf!reader #choso x chubby reader #choso fic #choso fanfic #choso fluff #choso smut #choso supremacy #choso #choso jjk #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso kamo #kamo choso #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x you

[icallhimjoey]

Here’s an idea: You’re out with Joe, and a couple of buddies. Joe’s immersed in a conversation but absentmindedly playing with your fingers. You notice. Maybe think of other soft shit he does unconsciously. Pure softness.

just... i know who you are, and you need to fuck all the way off, because how DARE you Wordcount: 2.2K

---

Love Languages

The best chats always happen at night. 

“Hey... hey Joe,” 

In bed, in the dark.

“Hmm?” 

When you’ve just laid down and turned the lights off and you’ve already kissed and said good night. When you’re meant to get comfortable, close your eyes and fall asleep. When there’s an alarm already set and when you’re not meant to be chatting. 

But you lead busy lives. 

These moments in bed are the most silent, undisturbed, and private moments you’ve got. When you’re alone, phones face down on bedside tables, and there’s no media to distract you from each other, darkness only fuelling the honesty.  

“Joe,” 

“Mmhmm,” 

You don’t fall into conversation every night. But when you do, they’re the best chats.  

“What do you think your love language is? Or mine?”  

Joe groans softly and rolls onto his back, eyes still closed, and he takes a moment to think as he inhales deeply. 

You’re on your stomach, facing him, both arms folded close to your body, hands underneath your pillow, and not tired at all. 

“It’s um...” Joe rubs a hand across his forehead, and for a short moment you think you’re annoying him. That he just wants to sleep and wants to be left alone. But then he says, “Yours is taking ugly pictures of me.”  

You immediately giggle, hiding your face into your pillow.  

“Ones where my hair looks fucking awful, and you’re not,” Joe stops to sigh, pretends to be all annoyed, then continues, “You’re not even taking ‘em, you’re finding them online and then save them onto your phone, I think that’s,” Joe breaks, can’t help but laugh himself now too. 

“Stop,” you try, grinning as you roll onto your side. “That’s not what I mean.”  

“No, I know, but I think that should be one of them. Because that’s definitely yours.” 

“No, but I mean from the–” you are about to delve in, list the five love languages, fingers at the ready for visual counting. But Joe interjects.

“That’s yours.” He says matter-of-factly, cutting you off.

“All right, thanks. Good night,” you pretend to roll over to go to sleep, and in turn make Joe laugh loudly.  

“No, okay. All right. What are they again? These love languages you speak of...” 

You’ve rolled back in an instant and feel like you’re a teenage girl at a sleep over, softly explaining the concept of love languages. The topic hasn’t just randomly popped up for you – you’ve been thinking about Joe’s love language all night. Or, well, love languages. Plural. You’re convinced there’s several. All of them maybe even.

Earlier that evening, when you went out for some drinks – just the quick one, Joe’d said, but it kind of turned into a slower three, maybe four drinks sort of situation – was when you’d started thinking about it.

Joe had been talking to a friend, a story you’d already heard, opinions shared that you already knew, so you weren’t really listening. Weren’t really participating in the conversation. Gave you the time to look around a second. To observe for a moment.

And Joe’s a fidgeter, you know that. Especially when surrounded by others, like right then, and evidently so.

You saw how he plucked at his jeans. How he kept playing with his sleeve. With his rings. How he kept slowly twisting the drink that was on the table in front of him. Kept rubbing at his chin and his cheeks. How his index finger scratched at the skin beside his thumbnail.

You’d only folded your hand over his to make him stop.

Without even breaking eye-contact with his friend, he moved his fingers to intertwine with yours and then just held your hand a second.

Then, he started scratching that same finger at your skin, and you’d tried to use your fingers to still his once more.

It worked.

Sort of.

It made him release your hand from his grip, but then instead, grabbed you by the wrist and held your hand there, on his lap, face neutral and attention not wavering from his friend.

His other hand found your rings to twist, your palm to softly move finger tips across, and your nails to push his pads under.

Touch.

It felt so obvious then that touch was Joe’s love language. He was always so tactile. Always reaching out, grabbing hold of you wherever and then holding on for however long you’d let him.

If that was a knee, then it was a knee. And if that was a foot, then it was a foot.

More often than not it was a hand though. A hand that got taken hold of.

It wasn’t unusual to wake up with a hand that curled around your neck. With an arm that rested across your collarbones, or had snuck under your T-shirt and splayed out on your back. With fingers that wrapped around a wrist, or the back of his hand that rested against your cheek.

Joe’s love language had to be touch.

“I think yours is touch.” you say softly, and you can see how Joe blinks a few times. Seems to think it over for a second, then raises both his hands to look at. Or to show you. Either way.

“I don’t think so?”

Um.

Excuse him.

What does he mean he doesn’t think so?

“I’m not touching you right now, am I?” he clarifies, and you scoff as you wiggle your leg that he keeps sandwiched in between his.

“I think this counts as touching,”

“That’s just,” Joe huffs, “That’s just me helping you out because you get cold feet.”

And it’s so silly, because it makes you laugh as you try to pull your leg out from in between his knees, but Joe just clamps down and fights against you. Uses his fingers to prod you in the ribs to make you laugh louder until you relax.

You know it’s touch.

But, what if it isn’t?

It could be gift giving too.

Not big gestures. No insane meaningful you-mentioned-months-ago-you-really-liked-this-diamant-ring-so-here-you-go sort of gift giving.

More the, I-got-myself-a-bottle-of-water-and-got-you-a-yorkie-because-you-like-those sort of gift giving.

Or the, I-got-my-dad-a-nice-bottle-of-wine-and-decided-to-get-you-one-too gift that he would then casually leave in your fridge.

Just little things that showed you that there were moments in the day where he thought of you.

And you had to stop telling Joe to surprise you when he asked if you needed anything from the shop, because the couple of times you had done just that, he’d just gotten everything he’d seen that he thought you’d like.

“Joe this is… this is just a full bag of ice cream?”

“Yes. And drinks.” he’d said as he let his body curl around you, arms strongly around your waist, chin planted on your shoulder.

You peeked into the bag and moved some things aside to have a better look.

“You got me- what the... you got me a whole bag of ice cream and alcohol…”

And he’d just shrugged a little sheepishly because, yea, he had. Because those were the things you liked, weren’t they? The premixed gin & tonic cans. The Häagen-Dazs caramel biscuit and cream pints.

Unbelievable.

But, could that count as acts of service? Because you’d asked him to surprise you, and just to satisfy your want for something unexpected from him, he’d gone and done just that for you... right?

Or did acts of service only count when you didn’t ask for them?

Like when Joe would see how you’d already curled yourself up into the corner of the sofa, all comfortable underneath a throw-blanket, phone in hand, but no mug of tea on the side table.

He’d just make you one then.

And exactly how you liked it too.

Would even silently take the empty mug after you’d finished it and make you a second one. Seal it off with a squeeze of your shoulder and a kiss on top of your head.

Sometimes it’d be larger stuff, like that one time he’d made you cry when you’d walked into your flat after work, expecting it to be in the messy state you’d left it in the night before. But when you’d left for work, Joe’d still been in bed, and before he’d walked out the door, he’d made sure to tidy the whole place.

He’d not done it right. Of course not. There were still things he’d misplaced that you considered lost, vanished into the ether.

But the fact that he’d put the effort in?

You walked in that day and immediately burst into tears. Had left him a crying voicemail in which you swore at him, called him all kinds of names and finished with a much softer and mumbled “I love you.”

Joe had just responded to it by sending a heart emoji and then that made you cry even more.

Idiot.

You knew your love language probably wasn’t words of affirmation. Obviously. Unless calling someone a dick for doing something nice counted as such.

Joe’s probably wasn’t words of affirmation either.

Although, sometimes... he just very randomly would say something so incredibly sincere and heartfelt, it would almost make you uncomfortable, would make you want to shut him up.

Like when you were out to dinner with your parents, and there was a short silence in conversation, like there naturally would be sometimes, and Joe felt it was the perfect time to let you know that he was proud of you, a hand sneaking under the table to squeeze at your thigh.

Or that time when you were sat in a cinema, everyone quiet, the room dark, all eyes on the big screen, and he’d leant closer to whisper how pretty he thought you were.

“Oh my God, shh,” you’d whispered back, already feeling the blush in your cheeks as he used careful fingers to swipe your hair behind your ear.

“Just thought you should know.”

Or sometimes, when you both had a bad day and were being short and snappy with each other, when you would kind of avoid each other, and would be stuck in sour moods, Joe would very suddenly let you know that he did actually still love you.

You once told him off for leaving all of his shit all over the place, nothing of it tidied away, and you had angrily started clearing things yourself. He joined you then, and it was just four angry hands throwing things around without much care until he suddenly stopped and grabbed your face in both his hands. Forced you to look at him, and God, you’d frowned so hard at him. Were so annoyed with him.

But then he had just said, “I love you.”

It made you look away, stubborn enough to want to hold onto the frustration, but Joe’d just followed your eyes, moved around to keep the eye-contact and repeated himself until you begrudgingly said it back.

“I love you too.”

“Good. Now go sit down. This is my mess to tidy.”

Although, all things considered, quality time was probably up there too if you had to choose one.

Like right now.

Chats in bed counted as quality time, surely. Just time spent together with no one else around. Silent conversations whilst faces pressed into soft pillows and bodies tangled under heavy covers.

“I think mine is maybe acts of service,” you say after some thought.

Joe has his eyes closed again and murmurs a soft, “Hmm.” as a hand snakes over your side and pulls you closer. You easily curl into him, nose to nose, breaths shared.

Yea, no. Touch. Joe’s love language is definitely touch.

“Maybe,” he then adds in a whisper.

You wait for him to explain himself, which he does. After a minute.

“Mmmno,” Joe slurs, and you know he’s about to fall asleep, everything slow and heavy, real effort needed to get the words out.

“It’s laughing at inappropriate times and then calling me,” he yawns, then continues, “And then calling me a dickhead.”

You huff a short laugh, and Joe can feel it on his face. He can’t help but smile, because he knows why that’s funny.

You only call him a dickhead when he is the one to make you laugh at inappropriate times.

And you would’ve fought him on it had you had the strength for it still.

But he’s sort of right.

“Hmm,” you hum, agreeing that laughing at his jokes and calling him names probably does count as your love language.

But his is definitely touch.

The proof is right there in the pudding, you think, as you feel a hand sneak under your top just to rest against warm skin for comfort.

And maybe yours is touch too, but on the receiving end.

“Hey,” you whisper so softly, Joe almost doesn't hear it.

He responds with a squeeze of his fingers.

The best chats always happen at night. In bed, in the dark. But this one, spoken in his love language might just surpass them all.

---

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