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#sunny writes about dogs
cloudstrife-bbs · 2 months
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In my spiritual journeys to realms beyond the physical plane, through my haze of abject grief in losing SoCo and Applejack, Cloud came to me. I created this art last summer. Originally, I colored this picture as a black and tan German Shepherd to match my NintenDog I had been taking care of in order to feel comforted. But, something happened. It was like the haze lifted and there he was. I would do everything I could to work my will into the Universe and bring Cloud to life. I had done it once before with Applejack, and I swore I could do it again.
For months, I had been researching the breed to make sure it was the right call, looking at breeders all over the country. I was straight up ignored by so many of them, and I still can't understand why. It discouraged me, and for a while, I gave up. My heart was broken. I cried a LOT. But, now I understand.
I had some immediate health problems, and also, the Universe was guiding me to where I needed to be. I nearly died in the emergency room, holding my husband's hand. When my health returned after two months of bed rest and recovery, and I was no longer in danger of losing my life, only a few days later, I finally found The One.
I found a new Berger Blanc Suisse breeder, not too far away from me, who interviewed me and really liked me. Her dam's puppies are literally going to be born any day now and she assured me that she's "99% sure she will have one for me". This is her first litter she's ever bred, and I have absolute faith that she's going to do a great job.
The breeder and her dogs are putting in a tremendous amount of work, and for that I will be forever grateful. She's creating my baby for me. (I will never not see my dogs as my furry children.) Her passion for dogs is going to make such a tremendous difference in my life, and it's a big change, and a challenge, that I'm so ready for. I literally cannot thank this woman enough for doing this.
My mental and physical strength are increasing with every passing day. I'm keeping an eye on my health.
My little boy, Cloud, is coming. Nothing can stop me because there is a loving bond I have made with this dog that I have forged through the grace and balance of the Universe. I have a singular purpose, and that is to love my husband and to love this darling creature we raise together with every ounce of my heart and soul.
The day he is put into my arms and I put on his collar for the first time, I am physically creating a covenant with him that I will forever love and cherish him, that I will take care of him every day of his life, and that I will stand by my promise to him and to SoCo and Applejack that I will always do what's best for him. That I will do better every single second of our lives together.
And when the time inevitably comes, I will release him from our covenant back to the world of Spirits to join the rest of my Guides and Protectors.
I love you, Cloud. So much. Mommy and Daddy can't wait to meet you.
Thank you, SoCo and Applejack. We miss you so much.
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gh0stsh4rk · 2 months
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“There was a wolf in our apartment”
This is my formal request for RCG to write a “The Janitor Mops Twice” style episode where Mac is a werewolf and it’s never explained.
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charmac · 1 year
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Pet Cemetery is the same episode where Frank and Charlie are eating cake at Old Lady House & Watching Frank on TV = Frank vs. Russia??
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So the cemetery episode ISN'T Gang Gets Cursed as one might assume based on the name and the situation. Am I walking myself in circles? I think I'm lost.
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emilybeemartin · 7 months
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Just to tie in my two themes this month----
Additional notes, because poll options apparently limit their characters:
Frodo finds great peace in watching the tides rise and fall throughout each day. He attends all the ranger programs on birds and seashells and fills pages with sketches and poetry.
Sam meticulously selects postcards in the gift shop for each of his friends and spends a whole morning writing and addressing them. He also buys Junior Ranger hats for his kids and a variety of Appalachian jams for Rosie.
Park rangers launch a Missing Person search for Aragorn when they realize his car's been parked at Avalanche Creek for three days. The search runs for almost a week before he comes strolling out the opposite side of the park, supporting one of the SAR techs who twisted an ankle during the search.
Legolas is first drawn to Olympic for the towering, mossy temperate rainforests, but the ground goes out from under him when he steps onto Second Beach for the first time. He spends an entire day watching the light and tides shift on the sea stacks, and he leaves feeling both full and hollow, like a bell that's just been rung.
Mammoth is only Gimli's first stop on a cavern tour, followed by Jewel and Wind Caves and Carlsbad Caverns. Wind Cave is his favorite for the unusual formations. He makes an obnoxious tween boy cry in Carlsbad for breaking off a speleothem.
Boromir is on a tour of military parks. He asks so many questions to the intern working the info station at Fort Sumter the kid has to go find the park historian. His favorite site is Vicksburg because that place was buckwild, though he silently judges one of the reenactors for his clumsy handling of a black powder rifle.
Merry also makes stops in Jurassic and Dinosaur National Monuments. He watches every park video, takes selfies in front of all the fossil exhibits, and earns his Junior Ranger badge at each one. He buys a keychain for Pippin.
Pippin actually gets four citations, mostly for trying to stick his hands in mud pots. He doesn't mean anything by it---he's just so delighted and curious about the bizarre landscape. He winds up with several thermal burns and dumps a king's ransom in the donation box on his last day.
Gandalf gets dinged by rangers for not paying the $5 fee for Trunk Bay, but he acts senile until they eventually decide to drop it. He gets postcards from everyone and responds to none of them.
Faramir and Eowyn are traveling together and do many of the same hikes and rides, but they do have some different preferences off-trail. Eowyn drags Faramir to a rodeo and the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar in Jackson Hole, and he goads her into Ranger Shelton Johnson's living history programs on the Buffalo Soldiers in Yosemite.
Eomer is bike-packing on his sport cruiser motorcycle. He goes to Roosevelt south unit for the wild horse herds but ends up spending half a day watching a prairie dog town. He takes 400 photos of them, mostly blurry, and texts them to Eowyn.
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sunnitheapollokid · 18 days
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✴️ ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。GO ON AND PUT THAT RING ON MY FINGER!
how the heroes of olympus would react to you accidentally calling them “husband”! <3
characters in this thread : leo valdez, percy jackson, jason grace, frank zhang.
📬 sunni’s notes : hey sunni nation school is biting me in the ass but i am thriving (barely) ANYWAAAY i was thinking of some fic ideas and this had crossed my mind and thought it would be fun!! lowkey breaking my silence because i haven’t gone far enough to write about our boy frank so if he’s a little out of character then i apologize </3 okay happy reading bebis! sunkisses!!! >3<
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ʚ PERCY JACKSON ɞ . . .
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⊹ you and percy spent christmas break at sally’s apartment!
⊹ it was a snowy new york city day, and y’all decided to stay in and just bake some cookies with his mom, while paul was out for work.
⊹ “hell yeah!! cookies!!” percy yelled, grabbing the ingredients from the apartment pantry, a bag of flour, sugar, and white chocolate chips in his arms.
⊹ sally clapped her hands, “(name), honey, grab the powdered sugar please?” you nodded, on your way to the pantry.
⊹ you scanned the small room, percy walking beside you, his hands on his hips. he hit your hips with his own sassily, “come on babe, it’s right there.” he teased.
⊹ rolling your eyes you reply,
⊹ “hubba, i’m trying—“ you cut yourself off. “i.. i mean— ah.. i-“
⊹ percy, silent for a bit, burst into laughter, holding his stomach.
⊹ your cheeks growing a shade of pink, he helf you by the waist and peppered you with wet kisses. “awww, my dear ‘ol wife!” he said in a posh-accent.
⊹ you tried to get out of his embrace, but he kept his grip, “perce! stop!!” you laughed with him, percy continued his kisses before you two got scolded at by sally.
⊹ “love birds! hurry with the powdered sugar!”
⊹ before leaving back for school, percy asked his mom for engagement ring ideas.
⊹ this man did not want to waste time.
ʚ LEO VALDEZ ɞ . . .
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⊹ spending your time back in leo’s cabin, everybody was gone for the end of summer break, and leo was the only one left back at the heph cabin.
⊹ you laid on his bed while he worked on a few projects, tossing a piece of metal in the air and catching it, letting it keep you distracted.
⊹ leo hummed, “mami, you okay?” he kept his eyes glued to the small machine infront of him.
⊹ you hummed back, “yeah. i’m peachy hubba.”
⊹ your eyes widen.
⊹ his eyes widen.
⊹ “wh.. whAT’D YOU SAY??” leo jumped, his goggles falling from his face.
⊹ “I MEANT BUBBA! NOT HUBBA!”
⊹ despite your efforts in justifying the accidental nickname, leo had twinkles in his eyes.
⊹ “i definitely heard you call me your husband.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.
⊹ you folded i’m afraid.
⊹ “when did we have a wedding? i’m sure i’d remember you in white mami.”
⊹ gods, the wink. he gave you a wink.
⊹ HE DEFINITELY FLEXED IT AT THE SEVENS GANG.
⊹ “oh, i don’t know about you guys but i’m pretty sure (name) just called me her husband.”
⊹ “oh shut up you already told us that.”
ʚ JASON GRACE ɞ . . .
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⊹ sunny day out!
⊹ y’all were out in new york for a totally normal mortal date, which you guys think you deserved by the way.
⊹ you guys we’re just out window shopping and coo’ing at old dogs that their owners had walked them out for, your hands interwined.
⊹ jason always caught a glimpse of your beaming smile whenever you waved at a dog passing by.
⊹ “where do you wanna go next honey?” he spoke softly, continuing your walking.
⊹ “mm.. coffee shop?”
⊹ the blondie shrugging his shoulders, mirroring the same grin his girlfriend had, he nodded.
⊹ excited to get some coffee, you don’t truly realize your choice of words,
⊹ “thanks hubba!—“
⊹ at first, jason and you don’t really realize it since at this point, you two we’re a married couple by the way you act.
⊹ the intimacy and the pure comfort of you guys.
⊹ from the rest of the sevens point of few, you two we’re like parents to them.
⊹ but he brings it up the minute you guys inhale the aroma of fresh brewed coffee.
⊹ “hubba?” he said in-between soft chuckles, a pink blush growing on his face as his nervousness starts to creep up his spine.
⊹ she grinned, “you like it?”
⊹ “love it.” and he kissed your cheek longingly.
ʚ FRANK ZHANG ɞ . . .
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⊹ frank tackled you gently into a bear hug.
⊹ the poor boy was training until sunrise.
⊹ you giggled under your breath as he basically enveloped you in his embrace.
⊹ “you sleepy, baby?” you whispered, the giggles unable to be kept.
⊹ frank nodded while he nuzzled his face in your shoulder, just savoring the moment you guys we’re having together under the sunrise of camp.
⊹ “just sleep hubba.” you slipped out, but frank was unable to overhear. though, he truly, truly, did overhear.
⊹ he was too tired to react, keeping his face in your shoulder, but he let out a hum, a faint smile on his face.
⊹ “thank you love.”
⊹ “anything for you.”
⊹ though the moment he woke up, unsure to bring it up, he came up to you,
⊹ “you uh.. called me something, when i fell asleep.”
⊹ you cocked a brow, confused, then it hit you.
⊹ “OH! sorry— force of habit.” you grinned.
⊹ frank melted at your gaze, kissing your forehead, “maybe we should make it a normal habit.”
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certainlynotasimp · 11 months
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can i req miguel and sunshine where she has a BUNCH of hickeys but shes too nice to make fun of so the spiders tease miguel instead?
Just A Taste
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(Miguel O' Hara x Female! Reader)
A/N: Omg this is so funny and cute!!! I was kinda struggling writing this because I was like, 'How much is too much for hickeys?'. It's currently hot as hell where I live and so you can tell where that inspo comes from this can be read as a part 2 or a sister fic to Just A Bite. I almost made it an unofficial part 2.25 to Our Girl, but I changed my mind. Also, I'm sorry it's a little short, but I hope you like it.
A/N: I also really wanna try that sorbet thingy where they come in the fruit shells if you know what I'm talking about. If you love this then please check out the master list and if you wanna be kept informed about updates on the Miggy and Sunny series, then comment on this taglist and you'll be added.
WARNINGS: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female reader/ Female pronouns, Barely any use of Y/N ((Sunny is her nickname, not her actual name)), OOC Characters, Flirty Miguel, Some implications of NSFW content, and Google Translated Spanish.
~~~~~~~~
It was very rare that it would get so hot that Miguel would be laid back with the rules. He held everyone to a certain standard when it came to being a part of his elite task force and he was a stickler for them to act like it. Despite this, he only expected three rules to remain to be followed at all times.
All Spidermen can’t travel to other worlds without notice.
Spidermen can’t travel without a mask on to protect the identity of all Spidermen.
Everyone has to wear their spider suits at all times.
Unfortunately, certain circumstances don't really allow certain rules to be followed reasonably. Especially when it involves people with special circumstances.
Such as this.
“Miggy!” A soft whine emits from the chair beside him as the woman sat upside down. Her unmasked face felt hot as a light sheen of sweat made her beautiful face glow against the soft light of the monitor. “It’s so hot…I thought you said Lyla would fix the air hours ago.” 
Miguel rolls his eyes at the sight of her feet lightly hanging over the top of the chair as. “Mi amor, if you stay like that, you’re gonna have a lot more to worry about than a heat stroke.” He playfully pinches her ankle as he grabs a tablet from the table, fanning his own burning skin.
Due to a massive heat wave, Earth-928 was experiencing the hottest summer it has ever had in history, causing Lyla’s A/C system to malfunction. The Lobby was left a broiling mess with Spidermen refusing to come by until the AI’s systems are rebooted. Only a handful of spiders were on base with the residential sweetheart suffering the most since she lives there.
“Can I please take this off?” She moans as she swings up and shoots him those dreaded puppy dog eyes. 
“Oh?” Miguel quirks an eyebrow as his eyelids lower. A playful smile graces his handsome face as he chastises. “I didn’t expect you to be so risky, mi sol.”
A flurry of butterflies spread out in her gut as she glares at Miguel. His response is to chuckle as that pretty glossed lip pokes out as she scolds him, “Not like that, Miguel, and you know it. This suit feels like a furnace and I just want to relax…”
The idea of his cute little lover prancing around in the nude would be an interesting idea to Spiderman, but he knew that his love would never agree to do that with others in the Head Quarters. Miguel bites his lip as he contemplates torturing his arañita some more, but he decides to show mercy as he relents.
“Alright, mi amor.” He sighs as he allows his own suit to dissipate, exposing the tight black tank top and tight athletic pants. “Pero tendrás que cumplir esa pequeña fantasía mía más tarde, mi niña bonita.”
His remark is ignored as she stands up from her cheer with a quiet “fuck yea”. After tinkering with her gizmo, the black and white suit disappears revealing her white tank top and black running shorts, but Miguel couldn’t help but smirk at the blotches of bruises that marred her skin.
Just before he could comment on it, the door opens as a voice complains, “YO BIG MAN! You need to tell that computer to fix this air!”
Another voice accompanies the new yorker's as the tall Brit yells out. “It’s sweltering here, man!”
Ben and Hobie came to a halt as they see their friend smile at them. “Hey, guys!” Sunny calls and waves at them while their faces grow ten degrees hotter.
The poor woman’s entire body was covered in hickeys. Her shoulders and collarbone were littered with several little puncture wounds while her neck had multiple light scratches dragging down. A distinct handprint was present at the base of her neck like a necklace with matching bracelets on her wrists. Her exposed thighs bared no better as the inner sides of her thighs had similar bite marks with a matching set of claw marks on the outside of her thighs. 
Ben swats a hand over his mouth as his hand slams over his horrified mouth while Hobie looks at Miguel in an amused expression. The urge to throw himself into another dimension plagues Miguel’s thoughts as he realizes that he will never live this moment down for the rest of his life. Rubbing his hand over his face in frustration, the oblivious spider turns back to her lover as she tilts her head at why everyone was acting weird. 
“Miggy, are you alright?” She mumbles as Hobie joins them up there with fake concern wrapping around his voice. “Yea, boss, are you alright? You looking a bit flushed, yea?” Hobie struggles to hide the growing laughter in his voice as Miguel throws him a nasty glare. 
The punk was never afraid of getting under his leader’s skin, but his ego really took over when he knows his boss would definitely not do anything while his missus was right there watching him. Ben also decides to join the fun by remarking, “Yea, you look like you need something to blow off that steam. Maybe a little taste of something sweet, right?” He teases as he figures he was safe.
Unfortunately, he unknowingly sparked an idea in the naive spider’s mind. She claps her hands in excitement as she exclaims, “That’s a great idea, Ben! I think I have some sorbets in the freezer of Miguel’s apartment.” 
Miguel wickedly smirks as he realizes that he may have an opportunity to exact some revenge as the two other boys tried to reason with her to stay. 
“Oh wait, Sunny, You really don’t have to..”
“Yea, Love. We are fine really!”
The boys try to reassure her that she didn’t need to travel all that way to get some ice cream before a smooth voice says, 
“Es una idea maravillosa, mi amor.” Miguel praises as his love’s smile brightens in response. “¿Por qué no vas a buscarme a mí ya ti ya que estos dos quieren ser miserables en este momento, de acuerdo?” He coos causing the woman to swoon at his soft tone.
“Alrighty, Miggy.” She grins as she opens the portal with her gizmo. The boys’ hearts stop in their chests as the little spider ignores their pleas to stay and happily skips through the portal to Miguel’s apartment. 
“Now then…” Miguel’s menacing voice twists around his cruel smile as he looks at the trembling boys. “What is it that you guys wanted to talk about?” 
Yep, they are fucked.
~~~~~~~
As the portal reopens on the observation deck, a smiling jumping spider comes back through with two packages in her hand and two spoons as she calls out, “Miggy, I’m back!”
“Llegando, mi sol.” His voice surprises her as he swings himself back onto the platform. She tilts her head as she begins to ask where he went when she noticed that he was now shirtless with the evidence of what she’s done to him now on full display.
His chest had small dark circles littering his pectorals that created a  trail down his abdomen and his abs, disappearing into the dark brown happy trail that began below his belly button. Upon seeing her stunned face, Miguel chuckles as he gently takes one of the icy treats from her shaking hands and a spoon before sitting down in his chair. 
“Gracias Amor.” He says nonchalantly as he rips open the packaging and starts eating the sorbet from its fruit shell.
“N-no problem, Miggy..” She sits beside him and opens her treat as she avoids looking at his powerful back muscles as they flex and move as he ate the sugary sweet. She almost drops the damned thing after the deep scratches on his shoulder blades reminded her of what they did just the night prior. 
“¿Qué pasa, mami? Miguel mocks as a mischievous smirk causes his fangs to poke out. “¿No te gusta tu sorbete? ¿O hay algo más que te gustaría probar?” He purrs as the spoon in her hand falls to the floor with him chuckling.
“Miguel!” She scolds as she begins to bend over to pick up the spoon as another spoon full of an icy treat. Her stomach flips as Miguel looks at her with his pretty apologetic red eyes as he pokes her pouting lips with his peace offering.
“I’m sorry for teasing, my love. You just look so cute and flustered.” He admits he gives her a soft curl of his lip.
Matching his smile, Sunny opens her mouth and happily accepts his apology with a small moan. She sighs as she lets go of his spoon with a satisfied smile.
“So good!~”
“I’m glad.” He smiles as he dips his own bite and eats it. “Es casi tan dulce como tú…”
“Miggy!” An embarrassed voice shrills as the man laughs with his love.
~~~~~~~~~~
Translations:
arañita - Little spider
Pero tendrás que cumplir esa pequeña fantasía mía más tarde, mi niña bonita.--But, you are gonna have to fulfill that little fantasy of mine later, my pretty girl.
Es una idea maravillosa, mi amor.- That's a wonderful idea, my love.
¿Por qué no vas a buscarme a mí ya ti ya que estos dos quieren ser miserables en este momento, de acuerdo? -Why don't you go get me and you some since these two want to be miserable right now, alright?
Llegando, mi sol.- Coming, my sun.
Thank you,love- Gracias amor
¿Qué pasa, mami?- What's a matter, mami?
Es casi tan dulce como tú…–It's almost as sweet as you...
~~~~~~~~~~
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anonymooseforever007 · 11 months
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I Know Him
(Platonic Alfie Solomons x step daughter reader) (Background Finn Shelby x Reader)
Summery: Alfie Solomons is in for a surprise one morning when his soon to be step daughter greets him with a hug. Which wasn't unusual in itself, but he never expected it to happen at Tommy Shelby's house... or while she was wearing Finn Shelby's clothes....
A/N: Hi Y'all! I don't think there are any TW's for this! I just wanted to write a fluffy and funny idea about Alfie realising his sweetheart's daughter is dating a Shelby and she's just absolutely oblivious to their past. Also as with all of my Finn stories both him and the reader are over 18. Enjoy! ❤️
WC- 4.0k
Main Masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He was dreaming.
Yes, that had to be it. She couldn't really be here could she? It wasn't really her was it? Smiling to him at seven in the morning at his friendliest enemy's house? In..... is that the little one's shirt?
He had to be dreaming. There was no other explanation to it.
At least that's what Alfie Solomons told himself once he saw his sweetheart's daughter waving at him when he walked in the front hall of Tommy Shelby's house that morning. Not only was she waving, but she was practically jumping up and down in excitement when she saw him, eager to see the man who would be her stepfather one day.... 
"ALFIE!! Is that you!!! Hi!!! What are you doing here?! My mum said you had a trip this week!"
Bouncy Excitement? Speaking at sonic speeds? Criminal amounts of energy for this early in the morning? Almost falling face first on the floor in her rush to hug him?..... Yep. This was his Y/N.
Automatically, Alfie returned the hug, something he'd grown more than accustomed to doing with his fiancée's daughter. Especially when it had been a few weeks since he'd seen you. You were born when your parents were fifteen, and now twenty years later, you were in your second year at a university, halfway between London and Birmingham. Your father had tragically died during the war, and it had taken your mother almost a decade to start dating again. And if by a storybook miracle, she'd fallen helplessly for the single, "semi-retired", grumpiest neighbor in Margret, who often walked with a cane and whose only friend seemed to be his dog. Three years ago they'd met one day when Cryil had lost his collar and you had found him sitting pitifully under a tree....not even two gardens down from his home. But you hadn't know then, and believing the dog to have no family, took him back to your house. It wasn't hard either, as soon you held out your hand, Cyril was up, eagerly following his "new master" and it wasn't until the next day Alfie showed up, having heard the familiar barking. He'd been searching for Cyril all night, only to finally hear his yapping not even two doors down. Furious at the idea someone had kidnapped his best friend, Alfie had come over, knocking angrily on the door, with half a mind to take up his "old" profession. But when the door opened, instead of a grisly old bastard, Alfie was met with the closest thing to an angel he'd ever seen. It wasn't just her beauty, but her voice and the kind way she looked at him that captivated the man. And then when he looked inside the house he'd seen another young woman, laughing as Cyril attempted to sit on her lap in the small chair. And he wouldn't realise it until a few months later, but that would be a sight Alfie wanted to see every morning. A year later, he'd officially started going around with your mother, though the secret was well kept from any of his business associates. Alfie also saw the younger woman herself as his own child now too. He'd even taking to calling you "Shiny" after your sunny disposition. He wouldn't admit it, but Alfie definitely teared up, more than once, on the first day the couple dropped you off at your University. He also wouldn't admit how he'd never been more nervous than six months ago when he'd asked you for permission to propose. You had obviously said yes, but not before staring at him silently for six minutes with a gaze that could make any Shelby break into a sweat. Speaking of Shelbys ....
"Y/N why are you hugging Alfred Solomons?"
Alfie looked up at the stairs and saw not one, but at least four (and a half) different Shelby watching him from the stairs. Now he could have chosen to make fun of the mess that was Arthur's hair, but instead he focused on someone else. Because Arthur's hair may have look like a drunken bird's nest, but it was Finn Shelby who'd spoken.... And it was Finn Shelby wearing the matching pants to your shirt. So it was Finn Shelby who was currently in a lot more danger than he was five minutes ago. Truthfully, Alfie had only talked to the young man twice and hadn't been bothered by the quiet Shelby too much. In fact, he might even go as far to say the he favoured Finn the most because he'd talked to him the least. And the more the Shelbys talked to Alfie, the less he began to like them. But the sight before Alfie was enough to send Finn Shelby right to the top of the "excruciatingly painful death" hit list he promised your mother he'd "lost" long ago.
"FINN! Look! It's Alfie! I've told you about him haven't I?"
Finn himself was still half asleep, but he'd heard your surprised shout from the bedroom when you went to the bathroom and wanted to make sure you were alright. Only he thought he was still dreaming when he saw you embracing the man who had caused his family so much trouble before. Evidently, your excitement had been brought to more than one Shelby's attention and now he was standing with Arthur, Linda, Lizzie (holding Ruby), and John at the top of the stairs. All half awake and just as confused. Most of them were wondering if this was going to be another Grace situation.... But you hadn't noticed any of that yet. Hurrying up the stairs, you'd grabbed Finn's hand and brought the still tried younger man down to "meet" Alfie. Once the two men were situated in front of each other, you spoke the words that shocked both of them wide awake.
"Finn meet Alfie, my step dad. And Alfie meet Finn, my Boyfriend."
"STEP DAD?"
"BOYFRIEND!!!"
"Ahhh yes!! Isn't it great!! You two get to meet for the first time!! Ohh you'll love each other so much!!"
Oblivious to the shock of your companions, you bounced on the balls of your feet, eager for your favourite two men to finally meet. From the top of the stairs, John had rushed off to wake up Esme and Ada, while Linda was coaching Arthur through breathing again. Lizzie just sipped her tea silently as baby Ruby clapped at the drama. Finn stared at the floor, trying to process what he'd just heard. In the end, it was Alfie whose shock was broken first.
"No."
The bouncing stopped and it was your turn to look at Alfie confused.
"What do you mean no?"
"You're not dating him Shiny."
"Yes, I am." 
"No, you're not."
"Yes, Alfie I am." You said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
"You're dating him?"
"Yes!"
"Did they kidnap you? Are they forcing you to say this?"
"No?"
"You sure?"
"Pretty sure I'm not kidnapped?"
"He asked you out and you agreed?"
"He took me for dinner and a movie!"
"You agreed to be with him?"
"Eagerly!"
"You and him?"
"Him and I!"
"Him?"
"Yes! Isn't he brilliant!"
Eagerly, you looked towards your boyfriend who looked offend by the fact Alfie didn't seem to believe you could ever have any interest in him. Sure, Finn occasionally questioned it himself multiple times a day, but still. Though you payed no attention to his annoyance and wrapped your arms around your love, happily hugging him to yourself. Then you turned around facing your soon to be step father again, with Finn's arms still wrapped comfortably around your waist as they had been when you'd woken up that morning.
"Why?"
"What do you mean why Ally? He's brilliant! He's nice and strong and respectful. He takes me on fun dates and he listens to me. He lets me hug and kiss him whenever I want and he's not afraid to tell me how he feels, though it did take a bit to get to that part! He lets me hold his hand and steal his shirts and he doesn't mind it when I ramble a lot. And there's a whole bunch more too but that's just the tip. I ran into him at a race with my friends one day and we just clicked. Isn't it great! He treats me exactly how you treat my mom and I think that's brilliant! Finn's brilliant!"
Alfie froze for a second thinking about his options. On one hand you obviously knew nothing about what the Shelby really did for work and must not have realised what you were getting yourself into. On the other hand, you were one of the smartest people Alfie knew, and if Finn really did treat you like Alfie treated your mother, you'd know about his past by the second date... And you'd chosen to accept that. Alfie didn't know which idea scared him more. But right now he could see something else. You were happy....Very happy. Genuinely happy, in the fact you looked at Finn the same way your mother looked at Alfie... Shit you were in love with him. You loved Finn Shelby. And despite the sleep deprived confusion over the boy's face, Alfie had noticed the little spark in Finn's eye that lit up then he'd seen you. Alfie had seen the way Finn had pulled you slightly closer when you'd spun in his arms. You loved Finn Shelby and it seemed he loved you too. Shit. So despite his general distaste for Shelbys, Alfie did the last thing he wanted to do....But he did it for you. Because just like did your mother he'd do anything to see you smile.
"Well then gingersnap. If you treat my girl that nicely... then I guess it's alright to meet you isn't it?"
Somewhat begrudgingly, Alfie stuck his arm out toward the younger man. Finn stared at the arm, hesitantly, as if the moment he touched it, Alfie would pull him on to a knife. And truth be told, if he'd known it wouldn't make you mad, Alfie may have done that. But seeing your beaming grin, made shaking hands worth it. The hidden wince on Finn's face as Alfie increased his grip also seemed to get the unspoken message threat across. One tear from you and every peace deal between the families would be off. And all types of retribution would be fair game.... if your mother didn't get rid of Finn first that was.
 And finally it seemed Finn had processed your earlier words. He had also noticed your eager face and wanted to proceed with caution, careful of crushing your spirits. Obviously you'd mistaken Alfie for your real stepdad? The man you told Finn about so much couldn't possibly be the one who'd thrown his oldest brother in jail and betrayed Tommy every other weekend? Ada and Esme had joined the "observation deck"(second floor balcony) now, and John had gotten his gun incase things went south. Tommy was still no where to be seen.
"Y/N?"
"Yeah Finny?"
"You said this is your step dad?"
"Yes.... well technically not for a few more months, but the wedding is soon and he's basically already it!" 
"Right...but Y/N? You said your step dad was a nice older man who lived by the sea? He's a bit grumpy, but really sweet and likes to make model boats?"
"Yeah he does! This is him! You'll get along great!"
It was Alfie's turn to look slightly offended now. He wasn't that old, and it also occurred to him that while he told your mother about his "past" job, Alfie had never actually explained it to you. You genuinely thought Alfie was a retired baker. Sure, every now and then he'd tell you he was heading to London to consult another friend who was still in business, but that was it. And since you weren't raised in the big city, you really had no knowledge about Alfie's old job. Suddenly, he was dreading the imminent conversation more than ever before. 
"This is him? Are you sure?"
"Yep! I think I know what the guy banging my mum looks like Finny. Not that I ever see it...ew... but you know, Cyril doesn't get locked out of the master bedroom for anything!"
It was a good thing Alfie still had his beard because it helped hide the slight reddening of his cheeks and ears then. It wasn't that he was embarrassed about repeatedly making love to such a magnificent women, it was one of his proudest achievements actually...... but there was something about the fact her daughter knew that made him want to hide... just a little bit. Finn's face also turned red at the mention of Alfie's physical love life.
"Alright love, I believe ya. Just no more about his bedside manner alright? I don't wanna picture that."
"And I don't think I want you picturing it witchy."
"Finally!!," you cheered, clapping your hands quietly, happy both men finally seemed to understand what was going on. But then it brought you to your next question.
"Alfie?.... Why are you here though?.... oh please don't tell me my mum sent you to pick me up?"
"What no, your mum wouldn't do that...wait she knows you're here? What's she got to say about the lanky carrot top here? And how long has this been going on?" Alfie used his fingers to point between your shirt and Finn's pants, indicating what specifically the last sentence meant. Slightly tired of all the questioning you sighed. 
"I called her last night to tell her. It was too late to go back to my apartment and Finn said I could stay here. His brothers were fine with it too....ohh have you met them? I think you'd like Arthur! He likes boxing too, ya know!....but she knows. Also don't call him the lanky carrot top, that's mean. And it's been going on for almost a year now. Not the sleepovers, but the dating bit. We met right before summer break and you know....kept meeting up."
"A fucking year! Hell Shiny, when were you gonna tell us?" Alfie was shocked once again. You'd been dating Finn a whole year and hadn't mentioned it? A small part of him was hurt too, that you hadn't told him yet. He vividly remembered only a couple years ago, when you'd barge into his house looking for Cyril and just start telling him all about your day. Finn stood by just watching the observation, rubbing his red hair self consciously. It wasn't even that red, was it?
"ALMOST a year, and to be fair we hadn't make it official until a few months ago. I just didn't mention it because I wasn't sure if he was really into me or not....But he was, which is great! And I actually told my mom last month and she said I could bring Finn over next weekend maybe to meet him. She was suppose to tell you.... OHH WAIT! I have an idea!"
You were bouncing again, pleased with your new plan. Your mum said you could invite Finn to the house next week, and even though from your calls she seemed to like him, you knew she wasn't just gonna let him slide right into your bed....figuratively speaking. You were her only child and knew she wanted to make sure you were being treated right, so you figured she'd be a bit hard on him at first. When speaking on the phone last week, you'd also overheard her asking Alfie if he'd mind coming over early that day. You knew she wanted him around for a bit more intimidation. The big, dark, grisly figure standing in the shadows, while she interrogated Finn about his intentions. But maybe this unexpected meeting could work in your favour.
"This is great!! Since you and Finn have just met, and you seem to get along great, you can help me show him off to my mum next week! You can vouch that's he's as good as he looks!"
Alfie just stared at you.
There wasn't a single world in which he wanted to positively vouch for any Shelby. Especially one who apparently thought it was acceptable to get within ten feet of you..... without a shirt too. But then again, you had this slightly infuriating way of looking at Alfie. One smile and he was suddenly letting you paint fucking flowers on his fence to brighten the front yard or blowing up who knows what in his backyard. He really did give you too much power sometimes...
"You want me to vouch for him!"
"Yes, I mean you don't have anything against him do you?"
"Fucking actually..."
"What the hell is going on?"
Finally, Tommy showed up, his boots slightly dirty from the barn outside. He'd woken up early to check on the pregnant mare. Only he came back inside to find almost his entire family staying in the front hall, in their pyjamas, along with Y/N and Alfie. The latter of whom he didn't realise was up. If he'd known Alfie was awake, Tommy would have skipped the horse today. If only to insure Alfie didn't go rummaging around. On top of that, Alfie was shooting Finn a glare, hard enough to make Tommy shiver, not that he showed it. What his youngest brother had done to deserve that baffled him, but Tommy had some idea it had to do with the young woman grinning ear to ear.
"Well?"
"Oh! Morning Tommy! Have you met Alfie? He's my stepdad!"
Tommy's nose wrinkled slightly and his lips drew into a thin line. But his eyes went wide and his brows furrowed in confusion. That was probably the last thing he'd expected to hear that morning.
"What?"
This time it was John who spoke up from the top of the stairs, eager to see more drama.
"Yep Tom! This one here is the spawn of Alfie's soon to be missus! Isn't that something?"
Tommy looked at you, and then Alfie, and then you again, then Finn, and finally back to you. Not because he didn't like you, but because he remembered the past, Tommy glared at you lightly.
"Are you a fucking spy? Because I won't have you going around with Finn if you're going to be sharing everything to Alfie here. And you better tell the fucking truth."
Surprised and slightly scared by his change in tone, you took a step back. Despite his reputation, Tommy had always been nice to you, if not a bit reserved like he was with most people. So hearing his "boss" voice was a bit jarring. Annoyed by his tone towards you, Finn and Alfie both stepped forward, glaring at the man who had spoken. You stared in confusion at Tommy for a second, before shrugging and laughing like he'd told a joke.
"Spy? I'm not a spy. What are you talking about Tommy? That's a funny joke though. Y/N the spy.... na I'm a terrible liar. Can't keep a straight face for the life of me. But why would I spy on you for Alfie? He's got nothing to do with the races or any shipping company like you run. It wouldn't make sense for me to share all your plans with him."
Behind you, both Alfie and Finn were drawing lines across their necks with a hand. The universal symbol for "don't say a fucking thing, change the subject", but it may have already been too late. You had glanced behind yourself to see if Finn had liked your joke and noticed the cutting motions of the two men. Suddenly your eyes widened, and you started looking between Alfie and Tommy, and then Alfie and the rest of the Shelbys. It was like a light flipped in your head and internally, Alfie winced at what might occur. But once again you surprised all of them.
"Wait! Are y'all working together!!.... Oh y'all do know each other! Alfie why didn't you just stay that in the first place? I wouldn't have made you shake Finn's hand again. That's why you're here isn't it? Y'all have business together? Are ya partners?"
Alfie cleared his throat and prepared to tell you the inevitable. Sure, he knew he should tell you he was a semi retired gangster, but he was slightly worried when you learned, you wouldn't look at him the same way anymore. He was afraid you'd be a bit scared of him, and for all intents and purposes, Alfie didn't want his kid to be scared of him.
"Well, Shiny... yes we are working together. You see..."
"OHH I KNEW IT! Are you gonna start selling bread at the races? I think that would be a great idea!! Like alcohol is great, but it would be so nice to have a muffin or something too.... OH OH OH ... I know! Alfie you should sell your sugar rolls! Finn you have to try them they're so good....Alfie has this special apron he wears when making them."
Alfie groaned at the mention of the pink apron your mother had gotten him last holiday. You really were just revealing all his secrets weren't you? And he couldn't even wack you over the head like he'd do with anyone else.... Finn process your words and then stared grinning as big as you were. He loved it when you started to go off on a tangent. After all it was a brilliant idea too. Finn always got hungry during the races. He was always hungry in general, but the anticipation of what horse would win made him hungrier than usual.
"That is a good idea! I get hungry at those and they never have any snacks. Why don't we do that Tom?"
Tommy just furrowed his brows again, completely lost to what was going on. That was one thing he realised when he first met you. See Finn, when given the chance to speak, could jump from topic to topic within minutes and never seemed to go on a straight path. You did the exact same thing....but much much more. And while it was amusing to watch at times, it could get dizzying when you and your boyfriend went round and round in circles. And if they didn't stop it quick, this would be one of those times.... It was too early in the morning for that. So Tommy interrupted. 
"Yes! That's exactly what we're doing. That's why he's here. To make plans to sell bread at the races."
It was a lie of course, but even Tommy could respect Alfie's wish to tell you on his own time. Besides, it wasn't actually a bad idea. Alfie nodded his head in agreement like they hadn't planned on robbing a train last night. 
"Yep Shiny, you got us. I remembered you mentioning it once, and thought why not see if I could pitch the idea. Didn't know you'd be here though. Kinda ruins the surprise so just promise to act like you didn't know. Be as sightful as my half blind eye yeah?"
Laughing, your rolled your eyes at your stepfather's joke, before yawning into Finn's chest. The early morning hour was starting to get to you again. You really had only come to use the bathroom before noticing Alfie. Now you just wanted to get back in the warm bed for a bit longer.
"Deal, alright. I can keep my lips shut. But only if you also add the knot shaped chocolate pastries to the menu too! Those are my favourite."
Finn's stomach interrupted the conversation causing the both of you to laugh. Even the mention of food was enough to bring his appetite back. Turning to your boyfriend you hugged him again, revelling in the warmth you loved to burrow into. Standing on your toes, you reached up to whisper in his ear and he smiled softly before nodding back. You turned to the rest of the room and addressed Tommy.
"Welp this was nice, but can we go raid your pantry please? It's been at least seven hours since this one's eaten, so soon he'll start to shrivel up."
Good-naturedly, Tommy rolled his eyes, he knew it was Finn sneaking around the kitchen only three hours ago. He was the only one who closed up the bags of food he stole from by placing another bag over the messily folded edges when he couldn't get a knot tied in the dark again. Finn was also the only one who made peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, leaving the dirty knife and plate in the sink for the next morning.
"That's fine, you two can go off, Alfie and I here have to finish a few details for the deal."
Giving Alfie another quick hug, you and Finn headed off leaving the rest of the company in the main hall. His arm was around your shoulder and they could see you laughing at something Finn whispered in your ear. Alfie watched for a moment. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad. At least you hadn't stated dating Sabini's nephew.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the top of the stairs Arthur leaned over to John.
"Does this mean we can't slash his tires anymore?"
".....Eh probably."
"Fuck, was looking forward to that."
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bunji-enthusiast · 3 months
Note
Listen hear me out I got this crazy idea, okay so all the smiling critter have a scent right? Imagine our fluffy boy dogday using his vanilla scent to calm the reader doing when their panicking or upset, as he cuddles them to the best of his ability. Just the thought of it is making me die of happiness, how has nobody written something similar. Ahhhhhhhhh, im dieing for someone to. also I love your first they are absolutely amazing, and thank you for writing for our dogday!
Note || happy to contribute in writing for the goodest boy, also headcanons cause I’m tired asf. 🫶
Sypnosis || Your dear friend always finds a way to calm you down!
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DogDay always kept a particularly close eye on those who he holds dear very close to his heart, so if you are ever stressed or generally upset about something, he would notice quite easily. 
He would rub your back to soothe you, ease you back into a sense of normalcy. DogDay then would offer to give you a hug, and if that didn’t work he’d cuddle you absolutely to the best of his abilities. Always reassuring you with a few words here and there so you could also feel grounded. 
Then the sunny dog had an idea, one of the best ones he had in a while. Why not use his own scent, but times it by two? DogDay could have an easier time of calming you down that way. He emitted the vanilla scent, as predisposed in his description given along with his plush form, DogDay’s scent was calming–reassuring you.
Once he knew this worked, he had done it numerous other times when you were stressed or upset. It had definitely improved you, boosting your mood and in turn helping you in learning how to cope with your emotional output easier.
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mkkk12345 · 1 month
Text
Divus Crewel x Wife Reader How they met
Sorry this took so long to write, I was once again procrastinating lol Feel free to request situations (I write slowly and I’ll be pretty busy for the next while sadly, but please do request if you would like to! I'll do anyone in twst for the most part with your usual restrictions) (side note I got the names for the dogs from the 101 Dalmatians)
1.2K words
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Oh how Crewel would come to regret what he had done that day, he really should have seen it coming. “Hey! Professor Crewel, tell us how you met your wife!”
This had all started when Crowley had approached him with a challenge. “If you manage to raise the class average of the first years to let's say~ 80 percent? I'll give you a raise! Am I not so incredibly generous? Hahahhahaaaa” He cawed to himself as Crewel walked away absolutely done with the crow mans shenanigans
Rolling his eyes he responds “I guess there is no harm in attempting it”
As an encouragement to study harder he had told his students that if they were able to raise the class average to 80 percent by the next semester he would allow them to ask one question about his personal life. Of course all of the students had jumped at the chance to glance into the oh so mysterious and strict teachers personal life.
And that is why we are here now.
Professor Divus Crewel, now being forced to tell the oh so embarrassing story of how he had met his lovely wife.
“Well it's not the worst question you lot could have asked. I would rather not share this story but if I must I will do so…”
—----
Divus was around 17 when he first met Y/N It was a bright and sunny day, the weather was perfect and it just so happened to be a long weekend, a rare opportunity to visit home in the Queendom of Roses.
It was also a perfect day to take his beloved pet dalmatian Perdita for a nice long walk in the nearby park for some long deserved bonding time.
When Crewel was home from NRC he would often take Perdita to the park. Whether it was actual exercise or for some relaxing time outside to sketch new fashion designs, Perdita never really minded. But today was different, the minute the pair stepped out of the door the spotted dog went bolting in the direction of the park. “Hey! Slow down girl, why on earth are you in such a rush today?!” he said, trying to keep all his sketching supplies from falling to the ground.
Luckily for young Divus, the dalmatian did eventually slow down once they reached the park. “You act as if no one has been bringing you to the park since I left for school.” he said exasperated from the impromptu run.
Soon after catching his breath Divus and his companion walked over to a nearby bench so the boy could start sketching, but right as he put his sketching equipment down there was another sudden tug on the lead and once again they were off “hey! Slow down! What has gotten into you toda-” CRASH he had been cut off suddenly, crashing into another person as Perdita and what seemed to be another dalmatian were running circles around the two very effectively tying the two together.
When he finally pried his eyes away from the dogs he finally realized the full situation he was in, tied up with a very beautiful young lady. “Oh my god I'm so sorry he doesn't usually act like this, Pongo would you stop that already?”
“Don't worry it was neither of our faults really, I guess these two have taken quite the interest in one another” he said as he pulled his arm out of the leashes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck a blush forming on his face as he looked at a very interesting tree behind her.
“They've actually been like this for weeks!” she laughed as she finally met his eyes, “Oh you must be Divus! Your mother talks about you very often.” He was surprised, not only was this girl absolutely stunning but she already knew him. Although he would never admit it, he practically fell in love with her right then and there, the way she beamed with joy, the slight blush on her cheeks, her laugh even in the strangest of situations.
In an attempt to calm himself he averted his gaze again and began to untie him and his new developing crush from the entanglement of leashes they were trapped in “Oh you must have met mother while she was walking Perdita I do hope she didn't tell you anything embarrassing” a strained smirk appeared on his face, knowing how his mother liked to tell the most embarrassing stories of his childhood.
“Well I cant say she didn't say anything” she laughed softly again drawing Divus’s attention for a moment the blush on his face growing ever brighter.
Snapping out of his short trance he asked “Might I ask for your name then since you already know mine?” With blush remaining on the tips of ears he held out his hand like a gentleman, both with the intention to give her, her dogs leash back but also to lead her over to a bench so they could hopefully continue their conversation.
“Oh my apologies how rude of me, My name is Y/N nice to finally meet you.” She bashfully took both the leash and his hand, walking over to the bench.
“The pleasure is mine”
—-
“And whilst that was all happening I looked over to our dogs, only to find them looking at each other with what seemed to be a grin on their faces like they planned that all out.” Crewel sighed as he recalled how proud those little devils looked. “After quite a long conversation that ended up in me never actually starting a new sketch, we traded contact information and left the park.” he looked up at his students now regretting all his life decisions.
“And that is how I met my wife, now it seems like class is over, please leave quickly so I can question why I ever became a teacher in the first place.”
“But prof how did you ask her out?” “Yeah yeah! Who was the first one to confess!” “How did you propose????”
Frustrated crewel quickly answered “If I recall correctly you were all only given the privilege of asking one question, now if you don't stop pestering me I will be giving you even more homework.” a completely very unnoticable blush began to form on his face.
“Sorry sir!” Everyone shouted in unison, but on their way out the students did not miss the slightest hint of red that dusted their professor's cheeks as he pretended to sort through papers.
Once everyone had left and silence had fallen through the classroom a laughter could be heard coming from the Professors phone. “Awwwww darling, you retell that story so fondly~” Crewel sighed as he finally looked over at his phone
“I honestly can not believe I let you talk me into letting you listen to that.” he said with a hand firmly planted on his face covering any sign of pink that appeared.
“Consider it as repaying me for when I dropped those papers off for you. Now hurry home our two rascals of dogs are looking at me like I should thank them for getting us together.” she laughed nervously
“Yes yes honey see you soon” ending the call with a small smirk as he muttered “I should buy some more dog treats on the way back.”
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luvrsux · 8 months
Text
“Bubble Bath”
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word count: 3k
summary: luffy has been cracking attention while you’re preoccupied with work. after you promise you’ll spend time with him, he evades your bath time for quality time
cw: nsfw!! bath sex, creampie, clinginess, riding
a/n: i don’t plan on making much luffy x readers because i have a strong headcanon that he’s aroace, sorry :(( </3
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“I see an island up ahead!”
The long nosed, afro haired boy said from up top with binoculars cupping his eyes. Everyone relaxing on the infamous Thousand Sunny began to abruptly scurry to the front deck to view the piece of land gradually increasing size.
“Alright! We’ll stock up on supplies. I’m not sure how long the log pose will shift, hopefully nothing long”
The orange haired navigator instructed, who received a bundle of loving compliments by the chef. Everyone went back to their own business, excluding the you and the captain.
The captain just stayed on top of Sunny enjoying the breeze of the sea, like he usually does. Hearing there was an island up ahead, as well as seeing it first hand, had his nerves rocket in the air of excitement. The sound of his sandals making contact with the ships mascot could be heard as he stood up straight. He spun his head left and right, like he was on the search for something. He groaned upon seeing nothing he was looking for.
“What’s up now, Luffy?” Usopp says, hopping down from the lookout up top. He placed his hands on his hips as he saw Luffy sluggishly and dramatically plopped on the floor.
“Where’s (F/N)?” He extended his words like a child, which was nothing new. Usopp exhaled, growing tired of his constant childish behavior over you.
Meanwhile, you were scribbling into a book about a previous island you docked at. You became the Strawhats Journalist not long ago, so you’d document each and every important thing that you discovered on each island. The previous island you had stayed at lasted a long while and was filled with things you’ve never seen before. That was the pure magic of being a pirate in the Grand Line. No one disturbed you, except Sanji who’d occasionally give you a loving drink or snack.
You’d been in a rather intimate relationship with the Strawhats Captain for a little while now, and people were growing tired of Luffy’s clinginess. He’d often wrap his rubber arms around your body and spew out that iconic giggle into your ear. You appreciated his love for you, but it’d sometimes get in the way of your work as a journalist.
“(F/N), your boyfriend won’t shut up about you” Usopp bursted through the door. The snap of it made your body flinch, causing a minor hiccup in your work. You grumbled at the messed up ink in your sketch.
“Yeah, got it” You huffed, not really worrying about Luffy’s attachment and more about your work. If you hadn’t poured this down on this paper, you were bound to forget.
“We’re also about to dock at an island in about an hour or so” Usopp continued. You placed your pen down and finally looked at him.
“Already? I’m not even done journaling about the previous island” You sighed, knowing all your time was consumed by giving your dumbfounded boyfriend attention.
“I’d blame Luffy” You sighed in defeat at Usopp’s correct words. You hated every moment of doing it, but you rushed to write and sketch the last few pieces of data before you went adventuring on the newfound island.
“(F/NNNNNNN)! C’mon!” Luffy wrapped his gum-gum arms around your own while you were ready to leave the ship. You tried breaking free of his locked-on grasp but no avail.
“Luffy, I need to buy some things and write some things down. I’m kind of behind” You lecture. Luffy just responded with a dramatically sad expression. Those puppy-dog eyes were always your ultimate weakness. You placed your soft lips on his forehead with a smile.
“I promise, when I’m done we can spend all the time you want” You cooed. Luffy practically had sparkles in his eyes when he detached his uncanny arms off of you. He jumped high in the air in excitement.
“Ya-hoo! I’ll see ya back on the ship!” He planted an eager kiss on your cheek before springing off the ship and collapsing onto a green haired swordsman. You heard Zoro grunt and shake a fist at the laughing rubber boy, which made you giggle.
You strolled alongside the ship’s archaeologists, Nico Robin, since you both shared similar ambitions. You made sure to go to the towns small shopping center where you could buy more ink and blank books. After your small shopping spree, which was vastly different from Nami’s, you sat on a cliff secluded by trees to finish your journaling.
The view wasn’t far from where the Sunny was docked, so you’d be able to see your fellow crew members approach the ship for regrouping. Your stomach laid on the rather soft, prickly grass and you fluently grazed the tip of your pen along the cream colored paper. The temperature of the island was more on the hotter side, and you were slowly regretting on wearing a longer sleeved shirt. The breeze helped the heat, though. You’d feel the air graze through your hair and scalp every few moments.
After about an hour or so, you finally wrote down everything you wanted to for the day. To your luck, a whiff of fresh barbecue filled your lungs. You immediately knew who’d be burning up on a grill at this hour and poked your head to the window of the cliff. You saw the blonde frying up skewers and other selections of meat right by the sunny.
Luffy was dancing around with the tiny reindeer doctor, and you couldn’t help but smile at his cuteness. Robin and Nami sat beautifully under an umbrella sharing a glass. Zoro was laying under a palm tree, snoring away into his deep slumber. Brook was filling your ears of elegant music like he’d usually do. Franky and Usopp were absent, which could mean they were doing their workshop duties right in the sunny beside the group.
You finally got up from your ground seat and stretched your tensed body. You felt lingering feeling on your knees and chest. Upon looking down, you were completely covered in grass and minor spots of dirt. You groaned, but this was entirely expected.
“I have to wash up before I eat”
You trotted your feet down the hill to make your way back to the sunny. You internally thanked yourself for not having Zoro’s awful sense of direction since the hill was a bit far from the group. While walking, you tried flicking off lingering strands of grass and flower petals, now only left in small patches of dirt around your clothes and body. The group immediately greeted you as soon as your feet landed on the sand they relaxed on.
“(F/N), my dear! Would you like your plate now?” Sanji said with practical hearts in his eyes. You immediately shook your head no.
“Not right now, Sanji. I need to wash up” You smiled. You could hear him sheepishly agree behind you, like the lover boy he was. As soon as you were ready to enter the Sunny, a scruffy, now shirtless, boy slid right in front of you in your tracks.
“Hey! You said we’d spend some time” He crossed his arms with a playful angry expression plastered on his face.
“We will, Luffy. But I’m covered in dirt, I need a bath, honey” You nervously giggled. He let out a loud groan that alerted the entire group. It only made you giggle. With a chaste kiss on his sad lips, you finally made your way back onto the ship.
Nothing but relief flooded your body as soon as you entered the bath house. You began flooding the massive bathtub with steaming water and poured in a tad of soap for fragrance. You saw the bubbles beginning to form above the surface of the warm water while you stripped your body naked.
You exhaled upon sinking your feet in first before slowly lowering your entire body into the body of warm, relaxing water. You rested your back against the wall of bath and shut your eyes. Your sense of tranquility was taking over your body by the sudden relaxation of the single bath tub. Your moment of relaxation was disturbed by sudden footsteps coming towards the bathhouses door.
“Hm?”
You hummed. The person didn’t have the curtsy to knock, but then again that was completely normal for the man himself. You shrieked, immediately placing a hand on your expose chest to censor it. Your body relaxed when you realized it was none other than your clingy boyfriend wanting attention.
“Luffy! I’m bathing right now” You scolded. He didn’t hesitate to throw off his shorts and jump into the water next to you, making a bit of a mess on the ground.
“I’m ya boyfriend right? I can do this” He smiled brightly, swimming his body up to yours. Your face was complete red from seeing his nude body for the first time. You then realized you were dating a boy with zero shame.
“Okay? But I’m in the middle of washing myself. I told you we can spend time when I’m finished” You scolded, jerking your body the opposite way. Luffy pouted and leaned his body closer to yours. His naked body so close to you made your face blush.
“That’s too long!”
His face was dangerously close to yours and he seemed completely oblivious to it. You still had your arm cover your exposed chest and your legs tightly closed together. He had a beaming smile.
“I really missed ya” He placed his hands on your hips to slide you onto his lap. You could feel his length graze against your slit and you hitched your breath. You grazed your hand on the pale, smooth skin that marked an ‘X’ on his toned chest.
“Luffy, I’m bathing though-“
“So? I can help”
He giggled, lathering the upper half of your body with the lingering soap. He started at your arms and back. You felt goosebumps from along your body by his touch on your bare body. Your arms didn’t disconnect from your chest. There was no point in objecting or pushing him away since Luffy was the most stubborn person you’ve ever met. You exhaled and let Luffy explore his needy hands around your bare body. You appreciated the kind efforts, though.
Luffy trailed his hands to your locked arms and trailed his midnight eyes up at your flustered expression. He had half lidded eyes that spoke to you. He wanted you to remove what’s covering what he wanted to touch.
“C’monnn… I need to finish” He tugged on your arms. You hesitated, but you eventually separated your arms to reveal your bare breasts. Luffy’s cheeks flared up and you could feel his member harden below you. You whimpered at the slight feeling of it.
He lathered the soap over your chest, but more slower than he did compared to the rest of your body. You let out a soft whimper that only he could hear. The sound only driven him more. He cupped both of them into his hands to throughly massage them. His movement made more simple, soft noises to come out your lips. Luffy didn’t stop. He had no intentions in helping you clean yourself anymore from the sudden distraction of your breasts.
You slithered a hand through his shaggy black hair. The feeling caused a rumble out of his chest. You gave it a slight tug, which was a single trigger for Luffy to trail his lips on your neck. He left marks upon marks on it, a new way to publicly display your relationship like he always does.
“L-Luffy…~”
You mewl out his name. At this point, his member was rock hard and eager to feel your walls wrap around him tightly for the first time. He growled, sexually frustrated by the immense teasing.
“I need ya, (F/N)…” His needy voice sent shivers down your spine. Those words made your arms wrap around his neck to elevate your body.
“You’re so needy, Luffy…”
You sunk a hand into the water to guide his member to your submerged entrance, that was still hot and ready for him. He shivered at your sudden touch and began quicken his breathing upon feeling your sleek entrance.
As soon as you felt the tip in your cave, you slowly sunk your body to succumb each inch inside of you. You heard Luffy hiss at the feeling of your walls wrap around his member. Arms wrapped around your waist once you took him whole. You were both heavily breathing.
“Ya feel sooooo good, baby” Luffy said with a devilish smile and those same half lidded eyes. You whimper, not expecting the long length but you remember he can stretch anything and everything on his rubber body.
He gripped your lower bottom and guided your body up and down on his shaft, receiving a pleasured exhale from the guy himself. You followed his rhythm at a decent speed before he stopped moving his hands for you. You bounced on his lap, his tip softly kissing your cervix.
The water in the tub began to create small waves of your momentum. Some began to slowly splash out of the tub itself, but two could care less. Your lungs began to fill in with the steam from the bath with every heavy inhale and exhale. You rested your forehead against your lovers, staring deep within his eyes while you lovingly made him feel good. His eyes were droopy and washed with lust.
Your pace was still slow. Luffy groaned and gripped your thighs tenderly. He cocked his head to the side to connect his lips on yours. The passionate, yet sloppy, kiss made your pace quicken and grow rougher. You heard Luffy release a shaky groan.
“Jus’ like that…” He breathed between your lips. You hummed at his words, understanding each word.
You kept a slow pace, nothing crazy for your first sexual experience with Luffy. You figured he was a simple guy that preferred simple pleasure, but his sexually frustrated demeanor said otherwise. He looked eager or antsy as his hands gripped and tugged on the fate of your thighs. You heard his chest rumble.
You felt Luffy buck his hips into you with force, sending a shockwave in your body when you felt his member crash against your cervix instead of the light kisses. You threw your head back and let out a hearty moan. Your reaction made Luffy only do the same movement more, hitting your sensitive spot with ease.
“Nnggaah~!!”
You bounced your body to reciprocate his force and increased your speed dramatically. Luffy’s eyes were hypnotized by the jumping motion of your breasts. He was stuck in a gaze, his brain completely going blank by your body. All he could do was recklessly groan and inconsistently breathe.
“Damn..~ I th- mmmph~ I think m’gonna cum soon” He breathed out. Your thrown back head pulled forward to rest in the crook of his neck. Your teeth sunk into the skin of his neck, muffling your moans. Luffy gritted his teeth in frustration.
Not even a few seconds in your new position, you felt a hand yank you by your damp hair and saw eyes staring deep into your soul.
“No, I wanna hear ya loud and clear”
He began to take control of your movement, forcefully and recklessly slamming inside of you. His change in force made the room full of your messy moans. You’d think the water would dull down his energy but the way he was forcefully plunging into you said otherwise. Luffy let go of your hair and had his hands completely occupied with slamming your body down onto him. A menacing smile grew on his face while he chuckled through his thirsty moans.
“L-Luffy~! M’gonna-!”
“Do it. C’mon, do it, yeah?”
Luffy growled before sloppily placing his lips against yours, ramming into you so you can feel the rush of your climax to its fullest potential. You dug your nails into his broad shoulders, sending chills down his body.
You grazed your nails down from his lower back to his upper back forcefully once you felt your juiced spew outside of you and mix with the water. Your lungs shrunk from your powerful moan, you’d thought you would lose your voice after.
“Oh, fuck~!!”
Luffy mercilessly pounded your insides in as you rode your high. He still had that same devious smile on his face while he witness your hard orgasm, done completely by him. He chuckled and cocked his head back. He let out a shaken whimper when he felt his fluids build up to pour out inside of you.
“I fuckin’ love ya, (F/N)~ Ooooh, I fuckin’ love ya” He pulled his head back and spoke right into your ear. Your body began to feel overstimulated by Luffy’s vast endurance. He giggled deviously at the drool spewing out the corner of your lips. Your brain was going just as blank as him from before.
“M’gonna cum! M’gonna fuckin’ cum!” Luffy growled.
With a few more pumps, Luffy dumped each and every last drop he had inside of him to soak your walls. That last slam birthed a loud groan from his chest and a powerful shriek from your mouth. Your volume was enough for the other Strawhats to faintly hear you, especially Franky and Usopp who were minding their business in the boat itself.
Luffy laughed like he usually does after he finished his own orgasm. He met his eyes with yours, now his energy completely drained. Suddenly, Luffy’s body grew completely limp and sluggish, as if his energy was completely sucked out of him.
“I forgot, water makes me feel funny…” He grumbled. The mixture of the fruits side effects and his orgasm only made him more exhausted than ever. You giggled.
Luffy hissed when you pulled your body off of his shaft, his fluids slowly swarming in the bath water. The water was far from clean now.
You lifted your body up, washing your sticky and soiled thighs with the water. You pulled, and struggled to, your limp boyfriend’s body out of the water before you threw a towel on his rubber body.
“C’mon, dry up. You wanna cuddle, don’t you?” You wrapped a fuzzy towel around your drenched body. You combed through your wet hair as you watched Luffy suddenly spring up with a smile.
“Yeah, yeah! I missed ya so much!” He wrapped the towel around his torso. You felt his lips smash against your cheek before he bounced out of the steaming bath house.
You giggled at his excitement. He was truly very two faced when it came to anything sexual. Your legs were twitching and shaking, slightly struggling to keep your complete balance. You found it hard to believe Luffy was the one to leave you in this state, even though you had just finished your session.
You drained the sin filled water down the drain to forever conceal the devious acts that occurred in that tub for the sake of everyone else’s sanity. You walked out of the bathhouse, preparing to spend the rest of the next several hours under Luffy’s tight embrace.
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deepouterspacecandy · 3 months
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Ink and Paper Hearts
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I wanted to write something for Valentine's Day, and wound up with over 8k words. Sheesh! Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for being here! Be kind to yourself and others. 18+ only. Violence and sexual themes. Angst, fluff, etc.
Raised on a cattle ranch, you spent your early days on horseback tending to the farm and living off the land. When disaster left you orphaned, a ragtag group of survivors embraced you as one of their own. Over time, they had become your family, and together, you’d endure natural disasters, famine, and hordes of infected.
It only took one sweep of malevolent raiders to destroy your home and turn everything you’d ever known to dust. You escaped the attack within an inch of your life.
Isaac was the one who discovered you withering away in an old diner off the freeway, fending off the infected with nothing but your integrity and a baseball bat. His medical team, which accompanied him as they moved between compounds, took care of your recovery, and nursed you back to health.
The leader of the Washington Liberation Front admired any person who possessed the strength to fight and the compassion to care for animals simultaneously, and in exchange for a safe place to lay your head, you promised to do just that.
It was a relinquishment of power; you learned early on. Anything involving Isaac came at a cost. Your bond with him was duty-bound, but he offered you another chance at having a family and a purpose. After being all alone in that desolate place, you’d been more than willing to fall in line.
Still, you were a different person when you first arrived in Seattle.
Some would say naïve. You saw yourself as a practical optimist. Now, you’re not so sure.
It’s truly astonishing how a year of unrelenting conflicts with the Scars can diminish the brightness of your silver lining.
The ability to find distraction in your work is a double-edged sword.
A jack of all trades, you spend most of your time working with the four-legged soldiers of the WLF. You have extremely limited patience for the human variety, on both sides of the fence. You tolerate a handful of your comrades, but between assignments, you’re happiest with your nose in a book, savouring the quiet and escaping into distant realms.
The drive for escapism hasn’t been a difficult undertaking lately.
A group of thirty soldiers left the grounds on assignment last month, and only two returned.
It left the stadium halls quieter, heads hanging lower than what you’d ever witnessed. Interactions that would otherwise leave you with a sunny lilt, instead left you carrying a heaviness that you couldn’t quite shake.
Few civilians choose to dive into surface level banter like they used to and the collective fear and sadness shrouding the compound has kept it that way for some time.
It serves as a reminder that even with extensive training and the most advanced military equipment, tragedy can strike without discrimination.
Unchecked and alone, the infected will forever wander through the shadows, driven by an unending quest to find their next victim. Maybe the same idea is true for all adversaries.
Your primary objective is to ensure the community remains united and intact. If you manage to stay sane, that’s a plus.  
“How are you today, my little sunflower?” Manny asks, mischievously tugging your jacket.
“You better be talking to the dogs.”
“And if I’m not?” he asks, kneeling to offer unlimited ear scratches to the newest litter.
“Well, then I guess I’ll have to refer you to every other time you’ve ever asked,” you say, giving the bottom of his boot a kick. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Yes, he does!”
A woman’s voice booms from the other side of the unit, and Manny forces a smile.
“The bane of my existence.”
You chuckle at his misery, knowing little about his relationship with Abby outside of the kinship they portray in combat and their supposed insufferable roommate arrangement. Something you’re only privy to after running into her after hours at the library as she was trying to catch some shuteye on the couch there.
“Will you quit harassing pretty girls and grab a damn dog already?”
As she approaches, tails of all shapes and sizes wag with incredible speed, exuding pure happiness. You wonder how much time she has spent in the kennels when you’re not around. Isaac has her spearheading every mission from here to Chicago, so you rarely see her. But the dogs never forget a kind face.
You exchange a few pleasantries with Abby before she drags her unenthusiastic partner to work. Manny’s womanizing ways at the stadium serve as a constant reminder of your boundaries in relationships.
You’re safer by yourself.
Abby does seem like a sweetheart, though.
----------------------------------------
“We ship out tomorrow morning,” Abby says, handing you an empty canteen and a backpack, a clipboard braced to her side by her white knuckled grasp.
Her abrupt tone makes you jump when it normally wouldn’t. She’s struggling to keep her voice steady, but you suspect she has more important things to worry her mind about. 
“Right,” you nod. “Any idea how long?”
As she’s rushing to complete the next task, your query hits her at the worst possible second, adding to her already teetering stress load. You recognize it a moment too late and your teeth ache at the back of your jaw when she spins on her heel, pinning you with a glare.
“Do you expect a serious answer, or are you just trying to piss me off?”
“No, I—”
“Promises around here are as worthless as the ETA themselves, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Promises? What did that have to do with anything?
“I’m sorry, I swear I wasn’t trying to—”
“Anything else I can assist you with, soldier? Or can we finish wasting my time?” Abby bellows.
You knew it would be a mistake to leave the K9 unit, but circumstances with the Seraphites have forced your hand. They not only invaded WLF territory, causing destruction and casualties among your people, but they’ve also been blocking your teams from conducting supply runs, leading to a rather grim situation in the reserves.
“You don’t have to bite my head off,” you say, feeling the tension rise as you widen your stance against her more imposing one. “We’re all stuck in this mess.”
“Oh, really?” she seethes. “Good to know. I’ll be sure to hand you a shovel next time our people turn up in body bags. Give you a break from scooping dog crap to help us grownups with the actual shit.”
Abby is your superior and you know better than to test the hierarchy. The moment you denied Isaac’s advances, you tumbled from the top spot. But you’re no chump.
“What’s your problem?”
In a split second, Abby’s body looms over you as she detonates, “You’re my problem,” her breath hot against your face.
She flinches when you lose your balance and stumble backward, narrowly catching yourself. If her instinct was to rescue you, she restrained herself just in time, her hand frozen in mid-air. A twitch nags at the corners of her tired eyes.
“You’re no different from the rest,” you say, walking backward, chest heaving. “It’s all the fucking same.”
You’re down the hall and veiled by the four walls of your room before the opportunity to fumble your conversation further buries you in shame.
It’s going to be a long night.
----------------------------------------
Manny runs through his roll call sheet twice, inspecting each soldier with every measure but a squat and cough. If he thought he’d catch you on a minor clothing infraction, hell, a mismatched pair of socks, he’s sadly mistaken. You wouldn’t give Abby the satisfaction and besides, you hadn’t slept a wink preparing for this assignment.
“Where’s Anderson?” Manny asks under his breath. The team surrounding him dip their heads and you try to avert your attention. Brush it off like you had been too busy inspecting your gear to overhear him.
“We’re not going blind, are we, Alvarez?” Abby says, shouldering through the group to drop her bag on the tailgate of the Humvee.
When her arm brushes yours, you recoil, your fist hitting your stomach with a muffled thud. Her head snaps in your direction, but her gaze is less volatile than before. You make a point not to place too much trust in that emotional assessment, finding solace in the familiar sensation of your twisting hands.
“Alright,” she shouts above the murmurs of your unit, the quiet chatter falling into silence. “You will work in pairs, at all times, even when we are in proximity to each other. This is unnegotiable, so don’t ask me if you have to bring a friend to the pisser. The answer is yes.”
The group’s attention is undeterred, even as a faint chuckle escapes them, their eroded black boots facing her commanding presence.
“If you hear something, say something,” she continues, her chin bowing slightly. “It may save a life.”
You swallow thickly and lean against the armed vehicle, its cold steel biting into your back. It’s possible that your sleepless night will affect your performance, but you decide not to emphasize it and hoist yourself upright before anyone notices.
“Our destination is approximately sixty miles from here, and we will cross into Scar territory temporarily, so we’ll need to be cautious. Eyes on rooftops, balconies, you know the drill.”
The group divides between the Humvee and a military truck, and it’s only after twenty minutes of driving that you realize Abby has chosen you as her combat partner for the time being. You feel the weight of her thigh against yours, as she adjusts her legs to accommodate her backpack, and you’re left pondering her decision.
There is a clear sense of trust between her and Manny, making him not only her closest friend, but a lifeline in warfare. Does she think you’re weak and in need of a stronger match? You gnaw on your bottom lip at the notion, focusing on the greenery flitting past your window.
“Come on, Anderson, your balls aren’t that big,” Manny teases, gesturing to her outstretched posture, particularly the way her legs take up enough room for two. You shift toward the door to free up some real estate between you and concentrate back on the road.
As their banter fades into background noise, your attention shifts to observing the deserted surroundings, vigilant for any indication of danger. Apart from a pair of rabbits hopping around, the streets are completely motionless.
--------------------------------------------
The cavalry parks outside a derelict warehouse, its craggy roof adorned by a lush carpet of moss. Rust-bitten chain link fencing surrounds an expansive lot at the rear, cube vans with faded labels scattered throughout. It’s a tempting location to scavenge, but the prospect makes your stomach lurch.
The presence of tall grass and the lack of windows on each vehicle creates ample opportunity for trouble. A lurking enemy, dead or alive, is something you’d like to avoid. It’s possible that someone has already searched the vans, despite their undisturbed appearance.
“Let’s break this down into teams and tackle it all at once,” Abby announces, nodding at the parking lot and the adjoining building. “Six outside, inspecting the trucks, and six inside. We’ll scour the property first, and then we can set up for the night.”
“Wait,” you say.
She blows out a frustrated breath.
“This better be good.”
The temptation to tell her to fuck all the way off is intense.
“Maybe we should put a couple scouts up high, search the grounds together,” you say, pointing to the safest vantage points. “Eyes in the sky.”
“Any other suggestions?” she asks.
“I mean, no—but,” you begin.
Abby interrupts, holding her hand up. “Like I said. Six and six. We don’t need to be out here longer than necessary.”
“Fine.”
She guides you toward the building, her palm on your lower back, and you jerk away from her grasp. She may have the authority to call the shots, but you decide where you place your neck on the chopping block.
“I’m with them,” you say, trudging toward the trucks.
“Hey!” Abby says.
“Oh, Jesus Christ. What?”
She gives you a once over, gritting her teeth.
You throw your hands up and let them slap against your sides, waiting for her to hurl her discontent at your head, clearly eager to tear a strip off you in front of your squad. With a distant gaze, she fixates on the hollow space behind you before heading towards the warehouse.
----------------------------------------
It took several hours to secure the perimeter and set up camp inside.
Your heavy eyelids rejoice at the promise of rest. The team in charge of the mail trucks uncovered a mother lode of undelivered packages, chock full of useful supplies. It was almost as impressive as the haul the WLF brought back from the airport a few months back.
Within the building, soldiers set up their bedrolls among a labyrinth of cluttered offices. It’s quite comical to overhear the entertainment value of some dusty, redundant telephones and keyboards. You catch snippets of the amusing conversations while rearranging your own space, the sound of playful jabbering rising from the ashes, finally allowing you to release a deeply trapped breath.
Abby eases up on her protocols to make the rounds and ensure everyone is okay. You make use of the time alone to freshen up and explore, gathering candles from various boxes to arrange in your shared office, the wax and wicks a rare, comforting find.
Abby spots them as soon as she returns.
“Nighttime always feels darker away from home,” you explain, worried she might find them frivolous.
She doesn’t.
“Candles are good,” she says, picking one up to roll in her hands. She scrapes her thumbnail along the wax base and shifts on her feet. “I like them.”
“Alright,” you say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.
You try to ignore the intensity of her gaze as it grazes over you, but beads of sweat build along your lower back. It might be time to crack a window. Occupying yourself with that activity, you grow increasingly frustrated as the most accessible ones refuse to budge.  
“Let me try,” she offers.
“I’ve got it, thanks.”
“Suit yourself,” she huffs, and you glimpse her crossing her arms over her broad chest.
You reckon Abby isn’t used to being turned down, and it sours your stomach a little to be the outlier.
By climbing the desk closest to the wall, you gain some leverage and drive your palms into the ridge of the window. You feel the sharp edge digging painfully into your flesh, your back muscles tightening to an impossible degree.
“For fuck’s sake,” you grunt, putting all your might into another attempt, the image of a bottle smashing through the pane something you’d seriously consider acting upon if you were alone.
“Stop being stubborn and let me help.”
“I don’t need your help,” you groan, the tickle of sweat now threatening to break into a full stream down your spine.
“Sure seems like you do,” she says, the arrogance in her tone combined with the weight of her gaze on your back, sending your lid rocking chaotically over a burgeoning boil.
You suck in a rigid breath and ignore her remark.
“Look, if you just—”
“Abby!” you say, jolted by your own shout.
Manny must overhear the commotion, slinking against the door frame to clear his throat. As they murmur behind you, you bow your head and brace your hand against the glass, waiting to be reprimanded.
When you twist your body to offer an apology, the room is empty.
----------------------------------------
Even as the sun disappears below the horizon, the air in your office, as well as the rest of the building, becomes oppressively warm. You dig through your bag for a less cumbersome shirt but resort to stripping down to your sports bra and a pair of boxers. Abby hasn’t come knocking for a while, long enough for a clicker to obliterate you ten times over, but you temper your outrage.
Downstairs, there’s a treasure trove of unopened loot piled on racks, beckoning your interest. Abby abandoned her rule of two and frankly, you couldn’t care less.
Truthfully, she never wanders too far from her pack.
It’s possible she’s unaware of your whereabouts while you gather boxes from the metal racks downstairs in your underwear.
But it’s also possible she has eyes on you wherever you go.
----------------------------------------
“What’s all this?” Abby asks, lingering in the doorway.
Lost mail spills from the bins surrounding you. You’re captivated by the untold stories inside them. A peek into a world you’d never known.
“Letters, mostly,” you say.
Just inside the entryway, Abby slouches against the wall, absentmindedly playing with the fibers of the carpet using her socked feet.
“What kind?”
You’ve torn through dozens of envelopes, the contents of each one wildly different. It’s almost disturbing to imagine how many people had an entire universe they experienced through their eyes only.
You’ve already envisioned yourself journeying from one post office to another, gathering historical accounts and breathing new life into forgotten tales.
“I’m a bit lost with most of them,” you say, credit card debt and bank statements flying straight over your head. “Structures before the outbreak are a lot different from ours.”
Abby clicks her tongue, moving further into the room to sit across from you. She’s careful not to encroach on your space and a twinge of remorse worms into your belly. You offer an olive branch, handing her a photograph.
“But then there’s stuff like this,” you continue.
Abby’s eyes widen at the provocative image of a woman, her slender figure draped across a pristine silk sheet, the vibrant red of her lace panties and sharp stilettos creating a striking contrast. Attached to it is a note that reads:
When you’re alone, close your eyes, and I’ll be whispering your name.
Abby puffs a quiet laugh as a flush of pink creeps along the high points of her cheekbones.
“Who’s it addressed to?” she asks.
You search for the envelope among a sea of scribbled addresses and realize it’s a futile endeavour.
“I’m honestly not sure,” you admit. “I think I lost it.”
“Damn,” Abby smirks, running her thumb over the curled edges of the polaroid. “Lost in transit twice.”
You give a half shrug, noticing how enraptured she is with the picture. Her blonde lashes catch the candlelight at an angle that cast long shadows across her freckled skin.
“Manny would lose his mind,” Abby says, rolling her eyes. “He’s obsessed with shit like this—women in general, really. Horny bastard.”
You can feel the giggles bubbling up inside you, and you clamp your lips together to keep them from escaping. Abby Anderson, the most revered soldier of the Washington Liberation Front, sitting criss-cross applesauce talking smack about her best friend.
It is about the funniest thing you’ve seen in weeks.
“Have you—ever sent one?” you ask, treading dangerous waters and bracing yourself.
She blows out a ragged breath, pocketing the evidence.
You wonder if it’ll be a gift for Manny or something she keeps for herself. The notion causes vicious heat to rise across your forehead and down the bridge of your nose.
“Not a chance. It’s not really my thing.”
The mountain of mail between you becomes a welcomed distraction, and you make use of having a focal point to stare at.
When she tosses the question back your way, it throws your stuttering heart into a full gallop.
“Have you?” she whispers, leaning back to study you with a leg outstretched. The heel of her foot rocks to a slow tune only she can hear.
Her muscular arms bulge as she balances herself and you do your level best to pretend you don’t care. You expect her to wriggle uncomfortably or try to change the subject, but she doesn’t. Instead, she waits on you to bounce the ball she has rolled onto your court.
It’s you who can’t stop squirming.
“I haven’t found anyone worth the effort,” you say, and it feels a little embarrassing, maybe, but you figure honesty goes a lot further with Abby. “People suck.”
“Would you?” she asks. “If you found someone.”
Your racing heart leaves you dizzy.
It’s too goddamn hot in this office. You crane your neck to fire silent vitriolic arrows toward the stubborn windows, desperate for a fresh gust of air to grace the back of your damp shoulders. Abby stumbles to her feet, stepping over you to solve your problem once and for all.
With a soft click, the lock releases, and the window glides open, allowing the cool evening breeze to sweep through the space.
You squeeze your eyes shut and groan.
“I didn’t want to say anything,” Abby smirks, dropping back down to her spot on the floor. This time, she lies on her side, head propped up by her arm. “You almost had it.”
The crooked smile quirking up on her mouth hits you like a flashbang.
“I kind of hate you right now,” you say without venom. “But I should probably say thank you, huh?”
“Probably,” she grins, teeth raking slowly over the pout of her bottom lip.
She has freckles there too, and you’re suddenly envious of them.
“I won’t,” you blurt, tearing open another envelope. “Say thank you.”
“I wouldn’t either,” she laughs, and it’s a deep, warm cadence. A laugh meant only for your ears. She gestures to the letter in your hand. “What’s that one?”
The grin you’re desperately trying to hide causes your face to ache.
The brash woman you’re hardly accustomed to sharing a home with at the stadium is full of surprises, it seems. There’s a side to her that isn’t militant and melancholy, but rather the opposite.
She’s playful and witty. Her eyes, a staggering blue lake, are gentle and kind.
You could fall madly, painfully in love with a woman like Abby.
Abby herself, even. If she wasn’t an unstable box of dynamite.
You skim the handwritten letter with the tip of your finger, and another wash of warmth blooms inside you at the bulk of the sentiment.
“It’s a confession,” you explain, fixing your attention on the last paragraph. “He’s been in love with her for a long time, since they were kids.”
“Will you read it to me?”
Her gentle query sends a shiver of sunshine down your spine. Her eyelids are heavy like yours, and the shadows beneath hers speak volumes about the burden she carries. The weight of the world.
“Only if you promise to read the next one.”
“Deal,” she murmurs, sliding your bag over to use as a pillow. She snuggles into it and your whole body vibrates.
----------------------------------------
The trip home is lighter, despite the nearly crippling load. Clothing, toys, garden seeds, tools, home goods, toiletry items — the list is a mile long. You couldn’t take everything, but the mass of what hadn’t deteriorated or spoiled made it through the gates.
It’s a hopeful thing, not only to witness your group returning home unharmed, but with enough supplies to ease the strain taken from a new fruitful avenue.
The moment you and your squad walk into the chow hall together, you’re met with a chorus of cheers and applause. As Abby vanishes amidst the swarm of people, you exchange a few handshakes before seeking escape from the cacophony.
Your sleeping quarters are the chaotic aftermath of hurried packing and abandoned reading material, with your mattress being the only semblance of order in the disarray. It was Manny who taught you how to make your bed to military standards and perhaps his goal was to inspire more in you than routine, but either way, the habit stuck.
Gratitude simmers for it now more than ever, the crisp, clean sheets offering respite. Freshly showered and dead on your feet, you crawl into your cozy bed and drift away.
A thunderous crash shocks you awake.
You blink against the abyss, immediately comforted by the stadium lights leaking through your curtains. It drives other citizens insane, the absence of darkness, but you’re thankful for it.
Someone appears to be banging your door down.
“Cool it, already,” you say, scrambling for your cotton robe. The brutal assault on your sleep at this hour deserves to be outlawed—prohibited by the laws of the WLF. “Holy hell, are you trying to wake the whole neighbourhood?”
You tear open the door and any visceral anger coursing through you evaporates at the sight. Tall, fierce, and devastatingly gorgeous, all blended with the rich spice of amber liquor.
Loose tendrils of hair cascade along her shoulders and collarbone in protest of her braid.
“What are you doing here?”
“I have something for you. Can I come in?” Abby asks, and it’s not a question.
Before you can even request a moment to compose yourself, she unceremoniously dumps a heavy grey bin on your living room floor, adding to the chaos, before collapsing onto your couch.
“What’s going on, Abby?”
She may be a delightful, luminous drink of water when she wants to be. But damn, can she ever snore the walls down in record time.
You plop yourself onto the bin beside her and try to make sense of her unexpected visit. Should you venture down the hall to wake her roommate? There’s likely a sock hanging from the doorknob by now, but it’s an option.
“Anderson?”
The sound of your hands drumming on the sides of the plastic container fills the room, while you contemplate the amount of bourbon your crew has consumed from lunchtime until now. An indulgence that landed on your doorstep all the same.
When Abby whimpers and curls in on herself, you resolve to drape her in your heaviest blanket, hoping to help her tackle the unsteady beats of her sleep cycle and a looming hangover. She bundles the fabric in her fists and clenches it underneath her chin.
Captivated by her klutzy aura, you nearly trip on the forgotten bin.
The lid doesn’t want to come apart from its secured spot and you have the presence of mind to check for a locking device, just to be sure. There isn’t one, of course, but you’ll never let yourself live down the office window debacle.
It’s going to require elbow grease and a hefty tug. You hiss as it separates in several loud pops. Luckily, the noise only costs the weary girl on your couch a flinch or two.
Letters fill it to the brim, and you’re enthralled by Abby’s decision to bring them back with her. Your instinct is to open each one, but it doesn’t feel right without her there to chirp commentary at you.
“I don’t get it,” you breathe in disbelief, expecting your words to meld with the shadows and disappear.
Her ghost-quiet voice turns the thermostat up a thousand degrees.
“I was mean,” she stammers. “You didn’t deserve it.”
It appears that you’re tapping into her guilt-ridden subconscious, which feels so delicate you consider shaking her awake. You doubt she’d want to lay it all bare.
Does she always talk in her sleep?
“No, it’s okay,” you say. “Water under the bridge.”
Your response seems to placate her overworked brain. You can relate, as your own tries to lure you back to the land of lonely slumber.
You notice her face doesn’t relax, even when her breathing slows, the lines in her forehead streaked with dirt. To never find peace, even during sleep, must be exhausting beyond what most can fathom. It seems cruel to disturb her, even if she’s restless. You settle for leaving a glass of water on the side table for her before settling in at the end of the couch. If she startles awake, you’d rather she doesn’t do it alone.
Cramped onto the only slice of cushion she hasn’t claimed, you let the commotion of the day pull you under.
As morning greets you, you find yourself back in your bed.
The familiar scent of Abby drenches your blanket, but she’s long gone.
----------------------------------------
It’s your first day off in months, but you check the work assignment list to confirm. On your way back from the bulletin board, the classrooms are abuzz with joyful energy. Children eagerly play with the toys and delve into the books your squad brought home, and it gives you a sense of belonging. A goal beyond surviving.
Until now, you have thought little about your life beyond protecting the community. It always made sense to put your neck on the line for the greater good. While casually strolling past the gym, not in search of a certain soldier, you can’t help but wonder if there might be other adventures awaiting you.
Abby’s breath tickles your ear, and you leap a mile out of your skin.
“Looking for me?”
“Son of a bitch,” you wheeze.
She doubles over with laughter, imitating the strangled noise you make when you’re caught off guard. She takes a minute to catch her breath before she gives you a generous shove.
“You’ve got quite a potty mouth,” she teases, wrinkling her nose impishly at a passing group of young ones. “There are little ears around here, you know.”
“Yeah, well, they probably know better than to sneak up on a person,” you say, finding Abby’s laughter rather infectious. You bite back a grin. “Who does that? Is an apocalypse not enough for you people?”
Abby breaks into another bout of giggles, seeming to enjoy your newfound passion for merging the old world with the new one.
“Is it our apocalypse though, if we were born into it?”
“Yes, Abby, it is,” you huff, eager for your heart rate to return to baseline. “We’re in an active apocalypse and you’re awful.”
As she leans against the large window you’d been peering through, the sounds of the gym fade into the background. She tilts her head at you, eyes sparkling with intrigue. Clad in workout gear that accentuates her sculpted body, she doesn’t appear sweaty.
You must’ve caught her on her way in.
“Are you busy later?”
“Not really,” you say, fidgeting with a frayed string on your sleeve. “Are you?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Okay,” you say, staring at a scuff on your sneaker before catching her gaze.
“Okay,” she mimics, directing her nose scrunch at you this time, turning your mouth dry. “Feel like being busy later?”
It’s not as if her tone is explicit or even her language, but this woman is a supernatural force. So, tingles rise into gooseflesh from your head to your toes, regardless.
“What do you have in mind?” you ask.
The roars of a lively group of soldiers reverberate through the gym, their spirited chants urging their champion to hurry her ass up. They beckon to her as if they are a part of the kindergarten cohort, causing both of you to snicker and shake your heads. One of them wolf-whistles, the rise and fall of the pitch echoing into the hallway. Abby wastes no time throwing up her middle finger in response.
“I can come by around seven. Does that work?” she asks, reaching for your wrist. She gives it a quick squeeze and slowly pulls away, her fingers sliding to the tip of your pinky.
Her simple touch is unexpected, and it electrifies you.
“Works for me.”
She beams, walking backwards through the gym doors, brows jumping at your frozen form.
You amuse her. This much is obvious.
----------------------------------------
A rhythmic tap grabs your attention, a stark difference from the first time Abby came knocking. But to keep with tradition, she doesn’t arrive empty-handed.
“You didn’t have to do this,” you say, gesturing to the dishes balanced precariously in her arms.
“I wanted to.”
She sets the meal fit for an army battalion down onto the counter and searches your kitchen cupboards for something to drink from.
With a single, forceful movement of her forearm, she clears space by shoving your knick-knacks aside to make room.
“Juice cool?”
The way she effortlessly makes herself at home in your space leaves you speechless. You nod.
“Good,” she says, a repentant grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Pretty sure I’m off booze for the rest of my life.”
With the same delicate touch she used to tidy your countertop, she pours the freshly squeezed liquid, causing both glasses to hover on the verge of spilling. Abby takes a step back to assess the situation before bending over the rims, producing the most obnoxious slurping noise. It nearly sends you into hysterics as she levels out both glasses.
She hands one to you with droplets of orange decorating her chin and the collar of her shirt.
“Thanks,” you chuckle. “Quality service right here. Plus, I love germs.”
Balancing the glass to the best of your ability in your right hand, you pull your sleeve over your left and use it to pat her face dry. Abby snorts, her normally lively body becoming static under your ministrations. She swallows heavily, and a calmness settles over you.
“I don’t have germs,” she pouts. Her eyes drop to your mouth for a split-second before her cheeks erupt in swaths of vibrant pink. “I swear.”
“You’re a mess,” you scoff, enamoured by this clumsy woman, blazing a path directly into the pit of your stomach. “Did you know that?”
As she nods, her broad shoulders relax, and her frenetic breathing begins to slow.
“Nobody else sees it,” she says, her words hanging heavy in the air.
The pressure of that emotional cargo would cause any person to buckle under the weight sometimes. It’s a strenuous life for everyone on base, but the expectations placed on her are especially burdensome.
“I see it.”
Your confession doesn’t offend her; instead, it seems to liberate her.
She sighs an exhale of relief, and it makes your heart squeeze.
“I can live with that,” she whispers.
The food was prepared with love as is anything set aside for Abby, and she tells you all about the cook who put it together. An original member of the Salt Lake crew, and a phenomenal chef, he got them through their bleakest days.
When the WLF opened their arms, he committed fully to helping Abby achieve her goals, working tirelessly to support her training and keep himself on the straight and narrow after their tragic end with the Fireflies.
She doesn’t go into detail about what happened, and your instinct is to let that be okay. The heart-wrenching rumours are more than enough to go on for now.
“He’s stoked for me to have a little downtime,” she says, waving her fork at the spread now spilling onto your coffee table across various plates. “Hence the whole smorgasbord situation. As soon as I told him—”
She pauses, letting out a little whimper of embarrassment, seeming to scold herself for being so open.
“Told him what?” you press, detecting a subtle grin playing at the edges of her eyes.
“He wanted to make an impression on my friend, I guess.”
Your neck tickles with heat and you attempt to ventilate by pulling the collar of your shirt away from your collarbone for a moment.
“The man can cook,” you say with your mouth full. It comes out funnier than you expected, muffled by chewing. “Sorry.”
“You’re quite a mess yourself,” she smirks, leaning to drape her arms along the back of your couch, scanning the state of your apartment. “Your poor books.”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with my books!”
She hauls herself off the couch to make an example of you, crouching at a cluttered stack. So, an earthquake must’ve hit only your room—what of it?
“I mean, this is just sad.”
“We can’t all have bookshelves and organizational skills, Anderson.”
“Says who?” she chuckles, her attention diverted by a novel that has piqued her curiosity. “This isn’t a lack of skill, either. Where’s your discipline, girl?”
Maybe it’s crouched in front of you, a blonde bombshell waiting to go off and properly reduce you to human rubble.
“I’m plenty disciplined, thank you very much.”
“Yeah?” she says, tongue tucked behind her teeth in challenge.
The audacity, when you’re currently over the moon about this delicious meal, you’ll likely never get to enjoy twice.
“Yeah,” you retort, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve like a feral beast. You strip off your shirt and toss it into the abyss, grabbing a clean one from its home on a toppling lamp.
Her bright bursts of laughter make you giddy, a woman who never finds time to play, sitting on your carpet waiting for you to join her.
“Who even are you?” she asks, and it’s so gentle it stops you midway through redressing to ponder her question.
The cotton tank top falls past your hips and you smooth it out, sensitive to the wrinkles in a way you haven’t previously been.  
“It looks good,” Abby blurts, reading you like the sea of books strewn about. “You’re—good.”
There’s something about the fortitude of her honesty that helps you decipher between barbs and a genuine fondness for your idiosyncrasies.
Maybe she’s someone you can trust after all.
She shuffles across the floor to the bin filled with letters and lifts it above her head with ease.
“What on earth are you doing?”
As her brows jump mischievously, she dumps the skeletal remains of a past life onto your floor, filling the room with a waterfall of bones. It ignites a fierce desire to protect this girl—create a time capsule of this moment for the next generation to build upon.
A reminder that not all broken things are hopeless things.
“Well, now you’ve gone and ruined my tidy apartment.”
“My bad,” she giggles.
----------------------------------------
Each passing moment feels like tiny punctures in an hourglass, causing time to trickle away. You’re both aware of it, trying to stretch the night. Abby leaves for a spell to hunt down her chef, in pursuit of caffeine. She returns flushed and sleepy, the bitter aroma wafting through the door alongside her soothing presence.
Curiosity and exhaustion get the best of you, and you ask about her friend. His thoughts on your late-night rendezvous with history. She does a goofy impression that makes you want to wrap your arms around her, and you watch her in fascination like an old cowboy reel, projected onto your heart.
“He says you’re a bad influence.”
“Bullshit,” you snicker, tossing her another envelope.
“Okay, so he didn’t say that. But he did tell me to give him a heads up if I decide to run away with you.”
You try to push that thought aside.
“Really, now? And why does he think that’s in the cards?”
“He thinks you’re my dream girl.”
She speaks as if she’s describing weather patterns to you, and you’re bewildered. The blunt force of her words mixed with the softness of her tone leaves you shell-shocked. You search for a tether; silently categorize every reason it can’t be true.
“What did you tell him?” you ask, busying yourself with a letter you read while Abby was away.
A tale of woe between two quarrelling families. It reminds you of Romeo and Juliet, some less violent, modern-day version, and based on the contents of their struggle, you gather at least one of them was grateful for the pandemic.
“Do you really want to know?” she asks, pinning you with her gaze.
You nod, a buzz of energy flitting through you.
“Yes,” you say.
“I told him to go fuck himself.”
Cackles burst from your chest, finding her candour rather precious. Of course, Abby told the guy off. But she doesn’t look away after she tells you; doesn’t shrug or scoff. She studies your reaction and holds her breath until a tiny smile breaks her anxious expression.
You forget where you are in proximity to the earth for a second.
“I guess I’ll debrief you on that situation at a later date,” you say.
“I hope so.”
----------------------------------------
The sound of her steady breathing is peaceful as the light of early morning whispers through the fog. She idly sips at her coffee and takes her time, setting each letter into their respective piles. It’s engrained in her to keep things orderly, an obvious clash with your paper heap. Unlike you, she finds the government letters intriguing, even the boring ass mortgage and debt related ones, and reads them all thoroughly.
Your hand catches on an envelope shaped differently from the rest. Inside is a card, with a dozen raised hearts adorning the front in varying shades of red. When you flip it open, it reads:
With you by my side, every day feels like Valentine’s Day. Thank you for being my rock, my love, and my everything.
Your family never spoke of this while you were growing up.
“Valentine’s Day?” you yawn. “What’s that all about?”
You show her the card, and she rubs her eyes, nursing the tail end of her own yawn with the back of her hand.
“Give it here, woman.”
She looks it over to confirm her suspicions, and with a knowing smile, sits up straight. She taps the card against her knee.
“My dad told me about this.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s um—it’s a tradition people celebrated near the end of winter. A day to do things for the ones you love, I guess.”
“Like a holiday or something?”
“Sort of,” Abby says, fumbling a bit with her own understanding of it. “Romantic stuff, mostly.”
She rubs her neck, mulling something over while you try to wrap your head around this new information. One day out of the year to do what exactly? Who was supposed to do the things—both people? Did the traditions start after breakfast or were you meant to wait until suppertime? Was it an endeavour meant to last the entire day?
“My dad didn’t really make time to celebrate it,” Abby continues. “He was always too busy at the hospital and then my mom—well, she worked there too, so.”
The veil of exhaustion lifts when you realize she’s peeling back a wound right before your eyes. You suck in a breath and hope she doesn’t mistake it for anything but your desire to let her speak. She drops the card on her lap and wrings her hands.
“They did these small things instead, you know? On regular days,” Abby explains. Her body droops as she seems to pick through her retention of their conversations.
“Like what?” you ask, your voice just a hair above a whisper.
“Like—okay. My dad loved to dance,” Abby says, leaning forward with a sad smile, the slouch of her shoulders regaining composure at the happier memory. “He was fucking terrible at it,” she puffs a laugh. “But he was a music buff and when he met my mom, he said it was the best excuse he could find to get close to her.”
You ache for her to have them here to tell the story, instead.
“So, they danced together a lot?”
“All the time, according to him,” Abby says, her face lighting up. “He told me that my mom was super shy, so she’d always give him hell about it. But he’d ask her to dance pretty much anywhere. Parking lots, gas stations, one time they danced in the middle of the grocery store.”
You try to imagine what Abby’s mom looks like, but your mind can’t seem to conjure up anything beyond Abby’s own image, a showcase of strength and grit.
“Do you remember much about her?” you ask.
“Not really. She died when I was a baby,” Abby explains, adjusting the cuffs of her shirt. “She loved being pregnant with me, though, apparently.”
“Well, duh,” you murmur.
Abby crinkles her nose at you and bites the edge of her smile.
“Dad said her stomach got so big that he started dancing with her from behind. She’d rest her head on his shoulder, and they’d just sway back and forth.”
“I love that,” you say.
“Yeah,” she murmurs, fondness heavy on her breath.
Abby’s speech becomes slurred as the birds on your balcony greet the dawn.
“Every time they danced, the scent of her reminded him of a cabin in the woods, surrounded by these giant pine trees he used to pass on his way to work. He’d dream up this elaborate plan for them to quit their careers and live off-grid. I think he promised it to her about a thousand times.”
“That sounds kind of amazing, actually.”
“Yeah,” she says, tapping her nose with the Valentine’s card, her sleepy gaze drifting to yours. “He was a sap.”
She finishes with the most outrageously loud, cavernous yawn and you’re too tired to do much more than giggle at her larger-than-life spirit.
“You can crash on my couch again, if you want,” you offer.
She wobbles to her feet, reaching for your hand to help pull you up.
“I’m on assignment in a couple of hours anyway,” she says, supporting your elbows while you try not to slip on the paper graveyard below. “I’ll be MIA for a while, but let’s meet up when I’m back, if you’re up for it.”
“Totally.”
“Cool,” she whispers, her fingers tracing patterns on the tips of yours before reluctantly letting go.
As she turns to walk away, her steps falter, and she abruptly spins around to face you.
“Can I hug you goodbye?” she asks.
“Of course.”
Before you can blink, Abby’s arms wrap around you, and you’re a puzzle piece, snug in her embrace. She melts you from the inside out, the comforting rhythm of her heartbeat thrumming against your body. The heat of her chest against your cheek lifts blissful sleepiness from the edges of your resolve and a part of you wants to ask her to stay.
As she gently moves to cup your head and support the back of your neck with her warm hands, you instinctively wrap your arms around her waist, afraid she might drift away.
“I feel so safe right now,” you whisper into her shoulder, and she nuzzles closer, squeezing you tight. Your feet are nearly off the ground before she relaxes her grip.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
----------------------------------------
Two weeks have passed since your visit with Abby and it’s hard to think about much else. It’s a pleasant distraction, even when the memory of her makes your insides flutter as if she tipped a bucket of butterflies between your ribs and set them free.
An unusually large number of soldiers from different stations have packed the grounds, and you’re grateful to have a unique job to keep you relatively separate from the chaos.
Dogs are coming home, but not all of them, and it shatters your heart to toss out their registration papers. You understand the nature of your contribution to this war machine, but it never gets easier. If you could, you’d gather up all the puppies and take them to the same cabin in the woods Abby’s father always dreamed about. Let them bask in the warm sunlight and frolic together amidst a maze of towering trees.
It’s a lovely thought followed closely by the sobering reality before you.
“You’ve done well.”
You drop the leash you were holding, and it clatters on the concrete.
“Isaac. You scared me.”
If Abby is a rare sight at the stadium, Isaac is a ghost. You haven’t seen him in months. He has expanded the WLF across several locations along the west coast and the number is only growing. Reports of a nearby prison piquing his interest have been swirling for a while now.
You’re not sure where he rests his head at night, but it’s almost never here.
“It’s nice to see you too,” he says, inspecting the four-legged fleet without getting close enough to pet them. “I hear your training program is working wonders.”
“I try. They make it easy,” you say, noticing that many puppies have tucked their tails between their legs. “What brings you to the stadium?”
“I’m—restructuring,” he explains, his footsteps echoing as he paces the unit, meticulously inspecting the facility.
Your heart sinks.
“What does this have to do with me?”
He exaggerates a smile, and it sets you on edge.
“You always ask the right questions,” he drawls, heavy hands landing on your shoulders. “I respect that about you. There’s never any fat to trim, just straight to the point.”
It’s more than you can say about him, frankly.
“I suspect you’ve heard about the prison.”
“I have,” you say, bending to pick back up the leash. A narrow excuse to put space between the two of you.
Isaac is still standing uncomfortably close, so you wrap the nylon around your wrist as an act of self soothing.
“Well, it’s proving to be an integral training facility. It’s both secure and unaffected by the flooding, which has been my biggest obstacle up to this point.”
You’d never seen the inside of a prison before, but you’ve read about them. A cold cement cage without access to sunlight, its surface striped with iron. It offered zero curb appeal. You made it a priority to give your dogs a comfortable enclosure for that very reason.
“They need me here,” you say, desperate to get ahead of his plan. “This is where I’ll be most effective.”
“I disagree.”
Your arms tingle with an icy chill as he turns to walk in the opposite direction.
“You said I’ve done well here,” you call out.
“It’s true,” he says over his shoulder. “And your expertise will be crucial. Transport leaves at oh-six hundred.”
---------------------------------------
You should pack to leave, but you’re frozen.
Isaac isn’t one to sugarcoat things and for once, you wish he would’ve.
You curl up in a plastic chair on your balcony and take in the fields below. Neatly organized rows of vibrant crops bordered by fruit trees, bursting with hues of orange and red. Berries snaking through walls of trellis, sweet and ripe. People milling about with baskets of laundry and boxes of produce, keeping society peaceful.
“You should’ve married him,” Manny sighs, dropping beside you. His hand rests on your knee. “Are you okay?”
“No,” you admit, pressing your fingers to the bridge of your nose. “All these fresh faces, and I’m the only one leaving.”
Manny moves his hand to your arm, offering a kind squeeze.
“You are not the only one,” he says, handing you a clipboard.
It’s a short list of dogs you’ll be taking with you, and you’re caught between wanting to laugh at Manny’s ridiculous disposition or sob at your utter misfortune. You wish the dogs could stay behind. They love when the little ones throw the ball for them in the afternoon.
“I have a life here,” you say, and it’s a plea to the universe. “This is supposed to be my home.”
Manny offers you a freshly picked apple and you roll the waxy surface between your palms. The image of Abby’s face flashes in your mind. Maybe it’s silly to feel so much, but you can’t stop it. The weight of never seeing her again makes you nauseous.
“I’m fucked,” you groan.
He wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you in.
“Keep your chin up, Hermosa. Something tells me you won’t be gone long.”
----------------------------------------
Hey you,
I’ve tried to write this about a dozen times, and I still don’t know where to start. Fuck it, right?
I barely know you and somehow you made me miss you so fucking much while I was away. When I got home and you weren’t there, it felt like someone shot me in the chest.
Manny brought me your bin of letters and I swear I cried for the first time in years.
How did you get under my skin so fast?
I hear you were sad when you left, and that breaks my heart. It kills me thinking of you being unhappy. I hate that you’re somewhere I know nothing about.
What is it like over there? Are you safe?
I check in on the kennels every day. You’re missed around here a lot.
Keep your head up for me. I’m going to make this right.
Please write me back,
A.A.
You’re busy fixing the fence with a skeleton crew when a delivery truck arrives, and someone throws a letter at you. The thrill of it causes your heart to pound in your throat, a rush of adrenaline washing over you. It takes every ounce of self control to keep from disappearing to read it somewhere private.
Trucks come and go regularly, as they divide resources between stations. Isaac seems to prioritize the prison, especially on the artillery front.
You finish reinforcing the fence and race to your cell to lose yourself in your first piece of mail.
You can’t wait to steal a pen to write her back.
Abby,
I read your letter every day.
Okay, maybe more like three times a day, but who’s counting? Seriously… this place has no concept of time and I’m pretty sure there isn’t a single clock to be found.
It makes me sad you were sad. I feel like we’re on a carousel of sadness! We should change that. (Have you seen a carousel before?)
The dogs aren’t doing too bad. They like the open fields here and they’re allowed to sleep in bed with these smelly ass soldiers, which I think is more for us than them, truly.
Thanks for checking in on my crew there. Means a lot.
My bed feels like a hard slab of steel because it is, but at least I don’t have to make it every day. Don’t tell Manny.
It’s nothing like the stadium here. We don’t have gardens and schools and we definitely don’t have a gym. I know, devastating! How will I ever beat you in an arm wrestle now?
The hot water is a work in progress, so I’m learning how to not die during cold showers. That’s also a work in progress, but I squeal less now. Which is something, right?
Try not to worry your beautiful head. I’m tough. I miss your face, though. There’s so much I want to ask you.
Please tell me something about you that nobody else knows. I promise I’m the best secret keeper, ever.
P.S.
If you find any letters from actual prisoners, be sure to fill me in. I feel like they’d have some great tips!
Yours truly,
Me
You hope she lights up as much as you did when her letter arrives. It’s all you can hope for, aside from her safety and possibly a warmer blanket.
To: My Favourite Inmate,
You sure know how to make a girl laugh.
It’s good you don’t have clocks. That way, you can’t obsess over how long you’ve been gone the way I do.
Shit, I should send Manny over there for one of those cold showers. I gave him that polaroid we found, and he hasn’t come up for air in weeks.
It helps a bit to know those pups are there to keep you warm at night. I hope I can be that for you soon. I considered writing another letter because I was afraid to say it, but I think I want you to know. You belong in my arms.
Something I haven’t told anyone before…
Sometimes I miss being a Firefly, especially since things around here are getting worse by the day—but sometimes I guess I don’t want to be anything.
Maybe I’d like to try being just Abby for a while, you know? I’ve never tried that before. What do you think that would look like? Would you want to be a part of it?
I wish you were here beside me.
I’ve made it my mission.
A.A.
P.S.
When you wrapped your arms around me, it felt like lightning.
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cloudstrife-bbs · 3 months
Text
Why A Berger Blanc Suisse?
Sometimes, we're simply attracted to a breed because of their eye-catching good looks.
I would be lying if I said that the overall image of the breed, evocative of the wild white wolf, didn't influence me. They absolutely did, and the White Wolf has been a personal Guardian Spirit of mine for decades. White Wolf has always been something of a Spiritual Brother to me, loyal and protective of me.
However, I will say that the noble stature and unfailingly loyal disposition of the German Shepherd is really what brought me down this path.
I've worked with a lot of dogs, and by far, the more wolfy or foxy the dog looked, the more I find my soul drawn to them. Spitzes, shepherds, collies, nihon-ken, corgis, these breeds and mutts belonging to them have always found their way into my heart.
But, being as experienced as I am, I am also no FOOL as to not study the breed's history, purpose, behaviors, and health concerns.
As much as I loved them and enjoyed working with them, the German Shepherd was never an option I considered. I had seen first-hand the result of poor breeding, which resulted in poor genetic health and deteriorated physical vigor. A breed plagued with orthopedic issues and mental health instability.
The original German Shepherds were chosen for working ability, which includes being intelligent, biddable, and loyal. But they were also developed from certain stock of German sheepdogs (which was more like a land race than an actual breed, probably from derived from similar ancestors to collies) because the original developer of the breed, Max von Stephanitz, was also selecting dogs that were strong and wolf-like in appearance.
There's universal appeal to the modern German Shepherd. In my opinion, they suffer from being entirely over-bred to keep up with the demand for uneducated buyers unprepared for their strong work drive. But they remain, as of 2023, the #4 most registered purebred dog in the AKC.
But, I'm not here to talk about the German Shepherd, really. I'm here to talk about the Berger Blanc Suisse. However, it should be stated that the history of the two breeds have been intertwined for so long, I would be remiss to not mention their history in the development for the BBS.
The first Bergers Blancs Suisses were really developing in Switzerland in the '70's from white German Shepherd Dogs from the US and Canada. They have only really been selectively bred away from the German Shepherd Dog for roughly fifty years. This makes them still very new, with a shallow (but trying to remain really healthy) gene pool, and trying to avoid and severe genetic bottleneck.
But in that fifty years, careful breeders have been paying close attention to their conformation and health. Most remarkably, the legs and back have been straightened, and they've eliminated the severe slope in the German Shepherd that has contributed so much to their orthopedic issues. Every good Berger Blanc Suisse is still screened for hips and elbows before being bred. And with companies like Embark that provide genetic analysis of health concerns, this invaluable information can make breeders and owners make much more educated decisions on whether their dog is suitable to breed.
They have bred the Berger Blanc Suisse to be less intense, less anxious. An excellent BBS is nigh unflappable, and truly goes with the flow. They are more suited for families than they are for military or police work, although a good BBS can do very well at any type of fun dog sport that it sets its mind to. But they retain the work ethic and loyalty that so attracted me to their ancestral breed.
I want a Berger Blanc Suisse because---
They are loyal.
They are good for families.
They are versatile.
They are empathetic.
They are eager to please.
They are very intelligent.
They WANT to learn new things.
They are good for hiking.
They are good for working.
They are a much healthier option than a German Shepherd, both physically and mentally.
They are generally less intense, with medium energy.
They will absolutely protect you if the need arises.
They are absolutely beautiful.
We owe it to Berger Blanc Suisse breeders to be educated, and Berger Blanc Suisse breeders owe it to their dogs to be careful, selective, and deliberate with their actions.
On behalf of all of us who love this stunning breed, thank you for your consideration of us.
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auspicioustidings · 5 months
Text
The Revelation
Summary: You are pretty happy with the cult you have made for yourself, but when two newcomers show up you can't help but think how far you could go with this.
(this is a one-shot, I stg if your only comment on this is to say 'part 2' I will feed you to the tomato plants! If you like it and have brain worms about it by all means send those to me and we can bounce ideas around)
Words: 6.6k
CWs: Cult shit, dubcon (everyone is manipulating each other here), light petplay (hope you're proud of yourself Bo I am incapable of writing Ghoap without Johnny being a puppy now), smut, murder, slight allusion to cannibalism (in a round about way, just putting it here for safety), Catholicism
The Death of God happened on a gloomy Thursday afternoon. One moment he had been mowing the lawn and the next thing he had an epiphany about hating his suburban life, hating his suburban wife, hating the 2 kids and hating the lawnmower he had spent his last bonus on. 
The Revelation happened on a sunny Friday morning when you had popped up on his tiktok feed and told him that you understood him, that you were there for him. He had made his way to the commune, telling his wife it was just a visit to find himself. And he did. Which of course meant he never came home.
Truly you would consider yourself some what of a miracle working taking in this portly, charisma void of a businessman and turning him into some semblance of interesting. Well as interesting as anyone in this little slice of heaven. He had a fascination with growing tomatoes now. Good for him. 
The hundreds of little deaths of God had been great for business. When someone had a crisis, when someone thought they were broken, when someone just couldn't fucking take it anymore, that's when they were so desperate to believe in something that you could make them happy with a smile and a kind word every so often. You could keep them happy (well, what they believed was happy and wasn't that all that mattered?) by keeping them a little tired, a little hungry and occasionally a little high. Good for the soul really, that's what you always said. 
Surely you deserved to live on a steady diet of champagne, strawberries and decadence for all the good work you did. They all understood how difficult it was to be you. And despite your trials weren't you still so lovely to them? Even when they acted out you were gentle in your reminders that they needed fixing, that you were only ever there to help, that their friends and families would try and convince them otherwise because they didn't understand what it was to be broken. You opened your arms to them always, it was in their nature to err and in yours to forgive. 
Honestly you could keep this up for the rest of your life. A small group of people devoted to you, happy in their worship and happy in their toil. No violence needed to keep them compliant, just a soft touch and the occasional psychological torture as necessary. You had no aspirations to go beyond this, you had it good. No need for a death cult or to make yourself an actual God to them. You already had your champagne and strawberries after all, life was good. 
They were big, these two new men to your little oasis. It would be a tricky thing to half starve them you thought, but then it would also be a shame to have them lose all that bulk that you found you quite enjoyed looking at. Still, it was important for enlightenment and all that.
So you gave them a steady supply of soft smiles and reassuring touches, a diet of “yes this is an eco-living commune!” and “oh I never thought anyone would want to join me out here, I just got very lucky that so many wonderful people share the same morals.” They went easy of course, ex-military, used to structure and relying on someone above them to do the thinking. Perfect for you really, just two attack dogs that were impeccably trained.
They neglected to tell you that they hadn't been regular military, that they had been high ranked special operators in an elite task force. That would have made you suspicious after all and it was better you thought them stupid. Johnny had seen you on tiktok and wanted you and Simon never denied his boy anything, so here they were, playing you completely into their hands.
First it was getting themselves special privileges, unlimited access to food, a home right next to yours, full evenings of rest. Hadn't been hard to make you think it was your idea.
“Och it's alright lass, I ken we're naw military anymore. Dinnae need tae be a lean, mean, killing machine oot here.”
“Of course not Johnny, I'd hope you think you're very safe here.”
“Aye, feel safe with you. Ye look after us. Wish ye would let us look after you more!”
“I don't need anymore than I already have, but it's so wonderful of you to say, truly.”
Then a few days later when there had been time for that little declaration to settle in.
“Simon! How are you, I didn't see you yesterday.”
“Sorry, pulled my shoulder something awful. Felt like a right git not being able to do work properly.”
“Oh that's terrible, how did you pull it?”
“Ah just lack of training is all. Too used to being strong, retirement doesn't really lend itself to that.”
“You're still plenty strong!”
“I hope so. Some of the things I hear about what people's families think of you… if it ever came down to it, I want you to know I'd protect you with my life. Both me and Johnny would, strong or not.”
You had really been given an absolute gift here. That was something that had been making you a little paranoid. If family members escalated to violence there was really nothing you could do. You were a lover (here meaning awful con artist but that was just semantics) not a fighter. And now there was a solution right in your lap.
“How would you and Johnny feel about being security then? I'd hate to think we'd ever need it of course, but it would make people feel safer. Some of their families are terrible people I'm afraid, I don't want anyone to get hurt because someone tries something violent” you said gently, of course concerned for these innocent people being viciously abused by their awful families (these brainwashed people being taken by their loved ones to recover and live meaningful lives again, lives which did not involved maintaining your champagne and strawberry habit).
“If you ask us of course we'd never say no, it's just… would it be ok to have an hour a day to train? It's such an honour to protect this place, not looking to half arse it.”
“Of course! Come to my house with Johnny after supper and we can discuss some accommodations for your new roles.”
“How does that sound?” you asked, soft as silk.
You knew how it sounded, it sounded like you were the damn second coming. Giving them unrestricted food and sleep, telling them you'd have a house for them built right by your side? You knew it was working by how Johnny's eyes had went big and wet, projecting puppy-like adoration. And Simon? Oh that big, delicious man stood and walked over to you so he could kneel at your feet. Fuck you had never felt better about yourself.
“We don't deserve so much of your consideration. I-” he said, the first time you had heard him struggle to get words out through his emotion. “I want to thank you properly.”
He said it like it was a revelation and it peaked your interest. You could have squealed with delight when his cheek leant against your knee, your dress pushed by his face to let skin meet skin, eyes locked with yours as he turned to kiss your flesh. You hadn't fucked any of your followers, too messy. But these weren't regular followers anymore right? No, these were special followers. And it had been so long and he was looking at you like he was desperate to give you any pleasure he could. 
Oh Simon was desperate all right, had been thinking about getting you sloppy and pathetic for him since Johnny had excitedly shown him that bloody video of you acting like an innocent little lamb. He wanted to just barrel in, bend you over and claim you right away. It was Johnny who insisted it would be more fun to trick you, who had whined like a bitch about it until he got his way. Bloody MacTavish. He really needed to train those puppy dog eyes right out of the boy. Those had got him to indulge in all sort of risks already. Nearly fucked the whole plan right up when you had come dangerously close to catching him balls deep in Johnny in your bed, absolutely ruining him as per his own puppy dog eyed request.
For his part Johnny was positively giddy. He might give away the game if he really got to watch Simon taste you. Would he play gently with you? Oh my God would he pretend he was inexperienced to make you feel superior? Let you think you were guiding him? That might kill him dead. He tried to not fucking salivate and start panting at the thought of it. 
“Then thank me properly.”
Fuck the way his eyes lit up at that. This gorgeous man wanted you, he wanted to please you. As a hand squeezed your calf and he started to drag his mouth up your bare leg you felt the sick thrill of wondering how far they would go for you. Already people had given up families, friends, wealth. You had never pushed it beyond, horrified whenever you thought about how delicious it would be if they would die for you, kill for you and so shoving those dark thoughts to the back of your mind. 
But you didn't want Simon to die for you. You did want to see how far you could push, how deep his devotion ran. To that end you wove fingers through his hair and pulled him off of your thigh, his eyes flickering from your wet panties sticking to your cunt up to your own eyes in question. 
“I want you to kiss Johnny.”
You said it like a woman possessed. Fuck. That's exactly what you wanted. You wanted these big masculine men to fuck against their own desires but do it for you. They were dumb jocks really, probably had never fumbled around with another man before. They'd find it hard, find it wrong. You didn't really consider yourself a bad person before this moment, just a clever one. This was straying into something else, some monstrous part of you that was salivating with the thought of finally being released. 
“Will you do that for me?”
You heard a choked sort of noise and looked over to see Johnny hiding his face in his hands. Of course, big Scottish man must be scared of doing such a thing. Or rather having such a thing done to him. You imagined it would be some attack to his sense of self to have a bigger man press a kiss onto him. Fuck maybe he would tear up. Maybe he would fully cry if Simon pushed inside of him. You hoped that God really was dead because if not you were sure They'd have some stern words for you after this. 
“Oh I've never…”
Fuuuuuck. Simon's vulnerable eyes darting from Johnny to you were liable to make you cum on the fucking spot. You smiled indulgently down on him, running a hand over his face is a caress. 
“You know I only ever do what's best for you don't you? I wouldn't ever ask you to do anything that isn't for the greater good. Do you believe in me Simon?” you said, the years of practice infusing your tone with a cloying sweetness. 
“Yes” he replied, barely a breathy whisper of affirmation. 
His glazed eyes looked at you with such adoration before he nuzzled his face into your hand and left a kiss there before making his way across to where Johnny was sitting on the sofa, face still hidden in his hands. He went over on his knees, crawled. You pressed your fingers against your throbbing clit, cupping yourself to try and tell your body to calm down because there was so much more to come. 
Simon crawled between Johnny’s legs, going up on his knees and grabbing Johnny’s nape to drag his face down. He was whispering something in his ear, maybe trying to settle him, trying to assure him this was what they needed to do for you. Of course had you been aware Simon was hissing at Johnny to keep it together, to stop laughing about how easily you were falling for this, then the whole thing would really have been ruined. Luckily Johnny was still a soldier, Simon still his LT, so when he was ordered to put his game face on he did it. And luckily Johnny was still a good boy, Simon was still his master, so he knew that squeezing at his pup's nape always got that furrow in his brow to relax, got him eager to please and ready to tear up at the first little tease or overstimulation.  
It was really destiny that you would be this level of power hungry, this eager to push and see what you could make people do. He had been training Johnny to put all his eager to please energy to good use for years, had turned a feral mutt into a feral mutt with impeccable training. The chance to turn a corrupt fox into a corrupt fox whose only desire was to be stroked and pampered was making him painfully hard. Johnny had been right, tricking you was far more delicious than just forcing you into it.  
When he moved Johnny’s hands from his face it was to reveal a man looking ruined, looking liquid eyed and flushed. Simon mouthed a good boy to him before pressing a kiss to his lips. It was calculatedly shy and tentative and he kept a steadying hand on Johnny’s knee, squeezing when he felt he might lose control and start panting and licking his way into his mouth as he usually tried to do. Simon couldn’t very well punish him right now without giving the game away, so he just had to use the suggestion of a future punishment. 
After the first peck you watched a slow and decadent slide into forbidden desire. They got a little bolder with each press of lips, seemed to squirm a bit more with the struggle of it feeling good but wrong. When Simon pulled away and Johnny whined despite himself you slid your hand past your waistband, needing to touch yourself or you’d die. 
“You’d like it if Simon used his tongue wouldn’t you Johnny? Would be nice to feel it against yours. It’s important that you two are close isn’t it? To do your jobs well that is.”
Johnny would have agreed with full enthusiasm and pounced Simon to get them both on the floor so he could rut his hips down into the cock he was desperate for, but the hand at his bad knee squeezed again and the spark of pain reminded him of the mission. So instead he looked at you, teary and unsure.
“H-his tongue? I… I’m naw…”
“You’re not what Johnny?”
“It’s wrong.”
“Who told you that?”
You watched him play with the thin chain around his neck, the crucifix falling out of his shirt. Catholic. Oh this must be even more torturous for him. No matter, you had killed plenty of Gods already, you could kill his. Watch guilt eat and eat and eat at him until finally he gave in to the desire. Gave in to you. Let any other divine figure die in favour of a new God.
“Oh Johnny, do you think I would lead you into temptation? It’s ok, I would never make you. If you don’t like it that’s fine, you can both call it a night hm? Security is a tough job, I would never think less of you for not being up to the task. My fault really, I must have mistaken the potential I saw in you.”
He surged forward and shoved his tongue past Simon’s teeth and you moaned deeply, fingers so slippery that getting proper friction on your clit was a challenge now. You did not think you had ever been so wet in your life, feeling slick trickle out of you as they clumsily seemed to fight for dominance, saliva dripping down Johnny’s chin from how much he was trying to follow your instructions, how deep he was trying to pull Simon’s tongue with his into his mouth. 
When they next pulled away they both seemed dazed, like they couldn't believe they had just done that. Poor Simon turned to look at your pleadingly, legs widening so you could see he was straining against his pants. He was rock solid from making out with Johnny and you were cumming all at once, hips rolling in time with your fingers as you breathed out instructions with your cunt still clenching in waves.
“Good, so good for me. Want you both to cum, get all of that tension out. Wouldn't ever leave you wanting would I?”
They both looked needy, but the fact that they quietly waited for instructions on how to cum was possibly the most erotic thing you had ever seen. 
“It's OK, you can help each other. That's what it's all about here isn't it? Helping those in need in the community, and you're both in need. Jerk your cocks together, it'll be bonding for you to cum together like that.”
They fucking did it. Simon shoved his pants down enough to free the absolute monster of a cock he had and dragged Johnny only his lap on the floor. Johnny's cock was thick as anything and just as hard. Fuck the image of Johnny taking Simon’s cock, taking every hard inch of him in his ass. Crying about how it wouldn't fit, how it was wrong. Clutching his crucifix. You needed to make it happen soon. Maybe you could make Johnny wear a plug, say it was part of training. Get him ready to be fucked by his friend and once superior without him ever realising that's what you were doing. 
Their precum was already making the slide of it easier as Simon took the lead, big hand wrapping around both of them and slowly pumping, staring at it in fascination. You were slowly overstimulating your clit, feeling that tension start growing again already. 
“Spit on it Johnny.”
He did it without hesitation, his saliva making Simon’s jerking squelch. It didn't take long until Johnny was begging, needing to cum. You didn't even register that it wasn't you he was looking at as he begged, you were too lost in sensation, eyes locked on their cocks rubbing together.
“Go on, cum. Both of you.”
Simon sped his hand and his low grunt (the ‘s’ok pup, cum’ so low you hadn’t heard it over your pleasure) combined with Johnny's drooling and panting sent you spiralling over the edge again as they both shot ropes of sticky cum all over each other.  
Fuck. What else could you make people do?
Over the next few weeks life got even easier for you. Simon and Johnny were excellent right hands, earning respect from all of your followers and taking on almost all of the tasks you had (which you had made sure were as minimal as possible already, the whole point of this endeavour was to live an easy life). 
Simon was careful to make sure to be seen with you, start planting the seeds in people's minds that they were an extension of you. Johnny was rapidly losing patience which made him incredibly satisfying to fuck because he got to beat every single complaint out of him. It was him that wanted to go this route so he was going to finish what he started. It had been a long time since he had seen Johnny get so worked up over anything and he forgot how much he enjoyed him when he was like this, biting at every little bit of bait that Simon left with the express purpose of having an excuse to punish him later for it. 
Johnny needed putting down when he got this wound up, at this point Simon had taken him over his knee at least once a day, collared and leashed him most nights, fucked him silly so much that he was constantly aching and plugged to keep ready for a quickie when he needed it. Which right now was inhumanly often and with them still in the bunkhouse they were having to get very creative with the venue. Johnny was going especially feral given that you had only been alone with them once more since you had promoted them and you had acted like last time had never happened. Clever actually, Simon had to hand it to you, you were very good at playing with people. He could see the little glimmer in your eye, the delight at seeing how Johnny seemed to be vibrating with anticipation of something that never came. You were setting him up to beg, making sure that when he gave in and went directly against his God that it would be him pleading for you to let him do so.
It wasn’t like you had ever been close enough to tell, but that little cross around Johnny’s neck had SR carved into the back of it. Simon had corrupted the Roman Catholic out of this pup years ago, the cross only came out on special occasions when Johnny wanted to play coy and innocent or when Simon wanted to remind him who he belonged to (because it certainly wasn’t a God, it was his fucking lieutenant). Well and now, when they both knew the sight of it would give you such a power trip that you’d fall right into their trap. 
“I was thinking about your house” you said, the three of you standing where the foundations were already being put down. 
“Aye?”
“It just seems such a waste when I have extra bedrooms in my home.”
“It would be such an honour to stay in any of them. Would we not be intruding?”
“Of course not Simon, you are my right hand men now. It makes sense for you to stay close to me. To one another.”
You swore you could see Johnny’s ears perk up, a phantom tail flicking quickly behind him in rapt attention at that. Of course their minds would go there, just like you wanted them to. It hadn’t been too difficult for you to be patient, to play with them so that you didn’t push too far too fast. It was something you were very good at. 
“Would you… still let us build something here?”
“Oh?”
“I think a temple of sorts would be nice. Somewhere for you to relax. You work so hard for all of us and if you are taking us into your space I’d hate for you to have nowhere to go to meditate alone.”
It only took a few days to wear you down. You had no idea how much influence they already had with your followers, how easy it was for them to plant that idea there and have them be the ones appealing to you to please allow them to do this for you. And while that shred of morality you had left was screaming at you not to do this, not to actually Deify yourself lest it go too far, the adoration inflated your ego and drowned your conscience out. 
So they started to build your temple.
“Ah! Like that. That’s it, that’s what I need” you moaned out, Simon in between your legs worshipping. 
You had moved them into your home, the large house comfortable and spacious in comparison to the bunkhouse the other followers stayed in, and that night Simon had come to your room and gotten on his knees for you. How could you say no to him? 
The adoration of your followers was nothing compared to this. They loved you yes, but fuck Simon was reverant, tongue swirling around your cunt so there was more holy water for him to glut himself on. This was decadent, languid on your bed with him focusing entirely on your pleasure, expecting nothing in return. This man who was spending his days by your side, overlooking the building of a temple in your honour. You could not decide in this moment if you wanted him to fuck you on the altar when it was done or if you wanted to fuck him. 
It was a good conundrum to have because you felt that you could simply have both. You could have whatever the fuck you wanted with this man by your side. Who could stand against him and Johnny? And who would ever worship you more? You had never actually bought your own bullshit before, but if he kept this up maybe you were some sort of God because how else could you be living this deliciously?
You tugged his hair sharply to get him off of you and pushed at him until he was on his back. You would take what you wanted from him because it was your right to do so. He did not complain as you settled your cunt on his face and rode him, if anything his clever tongue worked harder to please you. You held his head and used him, and he drank you down and thanked you for the privilege after, vanishing out of your room as silently as he had arrived.
It only took another few weeks for Johnny to break and oh he broke so perfectly. Simon came to your room every night to pray, and Johnny must know, must have heard how Simon spilled thank yous against your cunt even as you pushed down to deprive him of oxygen, even as you smeared your slick all over his face, moving exactly as you liked with no consideration of him. You never touched him in any way meant for his pleasure, only to use him for yours.
It was not Simon who knocked lightly on the door. Simon didn’t knock at all, he always just let himself in. 
“Come in Johnny.”
He was nervous, that much was clear. You did enjoy the sight of him in only his boxers and crucifix, moonlight doing wonders in making him look incredibly edible. You wanted to knead his pecs like they were tits, wanted to sink your teeth into the meat of his neck until you tasted blood and he cried out your name instead of his God’s.
“I want…”
“Hm? You want?”
“Will ye let me please ye? I ken Si… I’m naw good enough for ye, but I want tae be. It’s just, I’ve never uh… I’m a quick study.”
And with perfect timing, in walked Simon. Couldn’t have planned it better yourself (well, actually Johnny had planned it, Simon had laughed and ruffled his hair at how eager he had been to act the part of the blushing virgin before unhooking the leash and getting him out of his collar and into his crucifix).
“Good evening Simon” you purred. 
The man didn’t really acknowledge that Johnny was in the room, instead going to his place by the foot of your bed and kneeling. It was always where you started, with him lapping at you until you ordered him onto the bed or the floor so you could take what you needed. Only you pushed him away with your foot when he tried to pull at your shorts, holding him at leg length and looking at Johnny.
“Come sit will you?”
He nervously shuffled over, sitting next to you on the bed with his eyes darting uncomfortably down to Simon kneeling pretty, your foot still holding him away from you. He swallowed and you thought it sweet how he held your gaze to avoid watching as you motioned for Simon to move and he did so without hesitation. Johnny still didn’t look at him even as you put a hand to his knee to make him spread his legs enough for Simon’s broad shoulders to fit between them. 
“If you want to learn I’d never stop you Johnny, I want you to be the best at the things you’d like. And I’m sure Simon makes a wonderful teacher.”
Simon didn’t need prompting, obedient and perfect boy that he was. He started licking up Johnny’s thick thigh the same way he would have if you were sitting there. Johnny, bless him, gripped onto your leg like it was a lifeline, fingers digging into the plush flesh hard enough that you imagined it may leave marks. You swallowed his loud whine with your mouth when Simon slipped his boxers down and took his hard cock right to the root. It almost made you laugh, if you tried to take that in your throat you would certainly be gagging and crying.
When you pulled away Johnny was a whining mess, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other still dug into the fat of your thigh. You wondered if he had ever gotten head. Certainly not from another man. Oh wouldn’t his priest be so disappointed in him. You could imagine a severe man in the robes of God, looking with disgust at the whore before him. But you were a kinder creature, letting him indulge in pleasure without telling him he couldn’t. 
Well, to a point. You pushed Simon to stop with the frankly immaculate looking blow job when it was clear from Johnny’s hips rutting that he was close. Then you swung your leg around, straddling Johnny and squeezing yourself to him, stopping him from trying to get friction from you.
“Not yet Johnny, you need to be patient hm? Simon, open him up. Tongue first, then fingers.”
Johnny was tearing up, looking at you like he didn’t understand why you were doing this while feeling horribly guilty that he liked it. He howled when Simon’s tongue started playing at his rim, his hands gripping at your hips to try and make you move against him. You put a hand to his throat and squeezed lightly.
“It’s ok, you can take it can’t you?”
“I-I cannae, please bonnie, I’m naw- I dinnae-” he whined before he choked on nothing, eyes blown wide, “h-his tongue is, fuck it’s inside.”
“I know Johnny, I know. Is it too much then? Should I tell him to stop? If you can’t take it, then at least you tried” you said, sweet as anything but putting a tiny edge of disappointment into your tone.
“I can take it! Please, I can! Dinnae make him stop, I can take whatever ye gie me!”
“Good boy.”
Oh, the reaction to those two words was worth exploring. It was like he changed from a man to some pathetic animal, eyes watery and begging, hands pawing at your hips while his own desperately tried to buck up. You felt how he froze, heard how he choked when Simon pressed a finger into him.
“Hmm that’s it, take what you’re given, you’ll be good and hold off for me hm?” you cooed, moving a hand to run fingers under his chain, all the way around until you were behind his neck and could yank, have that crucifix choking him. “Looks better like this Johnny, almost like a pretty collar for you.”
Jackpot. Even with you clamping down to give him as little room for friction as possible you felt the hot gush of his cum, him getting there from being choked, being compared to a dog to be collared. Well if he was going to be a mutt that came without your permission, the permission of his master, then he needed to learn his place no?
“Fuck pet, told you to be patient.”
“Sorry, m’sorry bonnie. Ah! M-make him stop, s’too much!”
“Make him stop? But he’s been good for me, followed everything I’ve asked, You went ahead and finished without permission. Wouldn’t make sense to punish him and reward you, I need to be fair pet.”
He was clearly overstimulated, his hips trying to rut even as he gasped at every bit of friction he got. Oh you wanted to see him fucked out and ruined. You wanted his heart on a fucking platter.
“More Simon. Johnny here is going to let you fuck him tonight, so you need to open him up properly.”
“I-I-” Johnny stuttered, bottom lip quivering and eyes wide and wet. If you weren't so high on the decadence of having these two men at your mercy you’d have questioned just how practised that was. 
“Tell me Johnny. Tell me what it is you want.”
Tell me what it is I want to hear that you want. Be a good boy, don’t disappoint me. You’d hate to disappoint me after all I’ve done for you.
“I want Simon tae fuck me tonight.”
“Good boy” you said, hammering that final nail in God’s coffin as you yanked again at the chain so hard it snapped, taking your trophy and tossing it onto your desk without ever having examined it closely.
You watched Simon ruin him at your command. You drank their praise like champagne, bit into their gratitude like strawberries bursting their juice on your chin. You were greedy in how many times you used them for your pleasure, their fingers, their tongues, the sight of them overcome with hedonistic abandon. 
You felt like a God.
The temple was beautiful, no effort or expense spared. The first floor was a space for everyone, for the brand new community gatherings that you occasionally led but had mostly been letting Simon and Johnny lead. Above that was two glorious floors of space only for you. The only other people permitted to set foot in here were your two right hands. It was something else, being in the luxuriant bed drinking champagne and watching the two of them play with each other for your benefit. 
You could not stop thinking about the way Johnny had writhed at the mention of a collar when you had taken his crucifix for yourself (it still sat on the desk right where you had left it). You could not stop imagining how such a thing would look around his thick neck, how your other followers would look at it and be jealous that he got to be so visibly claimed by you.
As always your wish was their command. Simon had presented you with a gorgeous necklace of sorts, almost a choker, the pendant a symbol you didn’t recognise. 
“This doesn’t look like a collar for you.”
“It’s for you. The symbol is from the cult of Venus, we thought… well we thought if you could wear it, show people, then when we wore it…”
“You want them to know you are wearing it for me.”
Perfect fucking boys weren’t they. They didn’t just want to show up in a collar, they wanted to show up in a symbol associated with you. It was pretty enough what they had chosen, delicate and clearly made with care and devotion. You turned and lifted your hair so he could put it on you and the very next community gathering was Johnny eagerly explaining the symbol to your followers. It was etched into the temple walls soon after. 
The realisation happened all at once. You only attended community gatherings for special occasions now and when you did they were all looking at you like you were their God made flesh. Your followers had become something else, something well beyond a little eco-living commune. That had not been your doing. 
The door was locked. You could not leave your space in the Temple. Your hand flew to the back of your necklace, realising with a startle that you couldn’t take it off. Simon and Johnny never did have collars made. Why would they? You were rapidly realising they had never intended to. You looked in the mirror, tried to find a clue. The pendant… it was only when you drew it over and over again that you figured it out. This wasn’t some symbol of an old Goddess, it was the letters S R J M twisted around to make a pretty symbol. You sat and stewed, waiting for them to get back. When they did you were sat on the bed, glowering at them.
“Aww ye figure us out bonnie?”
“You played me.”
“Like a fucking violin sweetheart” Simon cooed, walking over to flick the pendant. 
You huffed up at him. Everything was completely fucked now. You had all but ordered your followers to treat these two as your spokesmen. You had been slowly vanishing from public life, ingraining in their minds that you were a God who lived in a temple and only graced them with your presence when they had really earned it. All this after years of breaking them down so they thought nothing they ever did was good enough, so of course they would never think they had earned it. 
And you had never used violence for anything, you were soft and lived on champagne and strawberries for fuck sake, it wasn’t like you could brute force your way out of this. You were enough of a schemer to know when you had been outplayed.
“So the little shy virginal act?”
Johnny laughed and came over to nuzzle into your hair.
“Ye’d naw believe how many times Si has been in my arse hen, this isnae even the first house of God he’s bent me over in.”
You scowled and pushed his head away, but his eyes only sparkled with excitement as he bullied it right back into nuzzling you like a fucking dog. 
“Pup has been so excited about you finally figuring it out. You’ve been teasing him for months now, don’t think it’s time to give him a treat for how well behaved he’s been for you?”
It’s not like you were against the idea, it had been delicious being the dominant one all this time but there was something interesting about the idea of letting Simon take control, letting him get Johnny to fuck you the way you had let him fuck Johnny. Because that would be the case you knew now. It was so obvious knowing what you knew, you really should have figured out way sooner that Simon had always been in control. All the things you had done since he got here that you had thought your ideas weren’t yours at all, he had put them in your head. 
“So that’s it then? You keep me here and take over?”
Simon was looking at you with something deranged behind those eyes. It was dreadfully exciting. 
“You're coming to tonight's community gathering. You can decide if puppy gets a treat after that.”
The Birth of God happened on that brilliant Friday evening. One moment you had been fighting against your conscience, and the next you had let go. You had walked forward, no floated, and pressed a holy kiss to his head. Watching one of your followers plunge a knife into the heart of another on your altar, both with a smile on their faces, was fucking beautiful.
The Revelation happened about the same time. You dipped your fingers in the blood (the same colour as those tomatoes he so loved, the tomatoes that his body would feed and your followers would eat) and marked his murderer with your symbol, the initials of the men that had made you God. 
Puppy had more than earned his treat.
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stylesispunk · 4 months
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"A broken ankle, karma rules"
no outbreak! Joel Miller x f! reader
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Summary: you slipped on ice in front of your neighbor Joel and he ran to help you. warning: none besides a broken ankle, "peach" is reader's nickname, and probably grammar mistakes because I wrote this too fast. Word count: 2,6k a/n: This is the last piece of writing for the Christmas season! It's a short one but a lovely one. I'm actually dying because it's too hot here in my country (perhaps because Pedro is here) I hope you have a lovely Christmas Eve, take care of yourself and I hope there is so much love for you on your way!
dividers by @/plum98
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It has been five months since your neighbor, Joel had moved to the house next to yours, in a neighborhood mostly habited by lovely elderly people, you were the youngest woman in this street, and the sweetheart, loved by everyone around. Well, you, your kind heart, warm personality, and the delicious pastries you baked since you were a professional baker.
And of course, the arrival of Joel changed the course of events at the neighborhood, at that sunny morning when he parked his car in front of his house, full of his belongings, clearly indicating he was taking the house.
At first, you didn’t understand the commotion outside when you spotted 3 of the ladies chatting and laughing with an unknown guy on the cobblestones in front of your yard, just when you were leaving for work.
As a shy person, you sometimes hated the new introductions and tried your best to avoid them, but this morning it seemed like the odds weren’t in your favor. Once you stepped outside your door, the three heads, well now four, turned to you, smiling, and the chatting stop abruptly.  You could swear the eyes of the stranger wide at your presence. You felt the rush creeping up your cheeks and swallow, making your war downstairs your porch.
“It’s our lovely baker here, come on sweats pea, let us introduce you both” one of the ladies said, her name was Betty and he was a lovely woman in her 80s.
You walked towards them, avoiding the lump in your throat and the stammer on your heart at the presence of the men next to Betty.
“Look, Joel. She is our lovely peach. Well, that’s not her name but we all call her that because she bakes the best peach tarts in this town” she beamed.
“Hi, nice to meet you, peach” he smirked, “I’m Joel” he took your hand to shake, and you swore there was an electric touch once your hands made contact.
"Joel, you have tried her peach tarts" Betty asked with a sly smile.
Joel, catching on to the playful matchmaking, replied, "I would love to."
As you blushed at that, Betty seized the moment. "Well, you're in for a treat! Peach, why don't you tell Joel about your baking journey? It's such a fascinating story."
“Well, I’m actually have to go to work but I-you. I’m, we can’t talk later” you replied, shyly, making your  
“And again, nice to meet you, Joel. I” you smiled, trying to avoid looking into his eyes.
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It has been five months since that morning and you could say you and Joel got along well since then, you wouldn’t say you were both friends but you clearly could say you were on good terms and he was a great neighbor.
Since then, you had found out he was single, no wife, not girlfriend and not daughter, but he did have a dog that always switched his time between your house and his, trying somehow to pull you and Joel together.
And now, as the winter sky painted hues of lavender color in the horizon, you found yourself bundled up in a cozy blanket, sitting on the bench outside your doors with a steaming cup of tea cradled between your hands. The air was crisp, and the soft glow of holiday lights adorned the houses, casting a warm and festive ambiance.
Joel, with his dog by his side, approached quietly, the soft crunch of leaves beneath his boots announcing his presence. The winter silence was interrupted only by the distant sound of carolers and the occasional jingle of bells from some houses, and his presence.
"It's enchanting, isn't it?" Joel remarked, his breath forming a mist in the cold air as he settled beside you.
You smiled, the warmth of the tea contrasting with the chilly breeze, "Yes, there's something nice about winter evenings. Especially on the eve of Christmas."
Joel nodded, his gaze capturing the twinkle of Christmas lights around the neighborhood. "Absolutely. It's my first winter here, but there's a special charm to this season."
He turned to you, taking a look of your side profile looking at the sky. He hadn’t really paid attention of the beautiful features adorning your face. For him, you were clearly a gorgeous woman, but right now in the quietness of a winter afternoon and gorgeous colors around, he thought you looked breathtaking, and his heart stopped beating for a second.
He cleared his throat, “So, any plans for tomorrow night?”
You contemplated your answer for a while before answering the question, “Well, I’m just driving to my parents’ house. We aren’t really a big family so I’m spending the night with them” you smiled, turning to your side to face Joel “What about you?”
“With my parents. I mean they’re coming and my lil’ brother and kids. They all want to know the place I’m living now” he chuckled.
“If is not a bother, I would love to ask you if you could bake a peach tart for me?” his big brown eyes shone under the soft light left of the day “you promised once you would bring me one but you didn’t so…”
Your heart fluttered at the genuine warmth in Joel's request, and the winter chill seemed to retreat in the face of the newfound connection between you two.
"Of course, Joel. I'd be happy to bake a peach tart for you. It's the least I can do for my neighbor and his family," you replied, a grin spreading across your face.
Joel's eyes lit up with gratitude, and he flashed a grateful smile. "Thanks, peach. I can't wait to taste one." He stepped up from beside you and flashed you another smile “So, see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll knock at your door with a peach tart.” you beamed.
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As you got ready to drive to your parent's house, your mind was filled with the joy of giving and the anticipation of the holiday night.
Before hitting the road, you took extra care in preparing the peach tart for Joel. The sweet aroma of baking filled your kitchen, creating an atmosphere of warmth and festivity. Once the tart was baked to perfection, you carefully wrapped it in a festive box, adding a touch of holiday magic with a ribbon.
The night before, the snow had painted the neighborhood in a blanket of white, transforming the cobblestones and rooftops into a winter wonderland. As you stepped outside, the chill of the morning air nipped at your nose, and you couldn't help but marvel at the serene beauty of the snowy landscape.
With the box in hand, you made your way carefully towards Joel's house, navigating the slippery cobblestones with caution. The snow had turned the quaint neighborhood into a picturesque scene, and the holiday lights twinkled against the snowy backdrop.
But just before you reached the stairs of the porch, your misstep, slipping on the icy pavement. A gasp escaped your lips, and time seemed to slow for a moment. The festive box containing the carefully prepared peach tart tumbled from your hands, landing with a soft thud on the snowy ground. Your heart raced as you tried to regain your balance, but the slippery surface had other plans.
“Damn it!” you yelled, at the impact, and you winced as you felt the cold seeping through your winter attire.
Just as the echoes of your frustration lingered in the air, a door creaked open. Joel, having heard your exclamation, rushed out of his house with concern etched on his face. His eyes widened as he took in the scene, the fallen box, the snowy ground, and you, trying to gather yourself.
"Peach, are you okay?" he called out, his voice filled with genuine concern.
You managed a sheepish smile as you felt the flush on your cheeks, "I'm fine, just a little clumsy in the snow."
Joel hurried over; his steps cautious on the slippery pavement. "Here, let me help you up," he offered, extending a hand.
But you yelped in pain as you tried to stand up, a sharp twinge radiating from your ankle.
Joel's expression shifted from concern to alarm as he saw the discomfort etched across your face. "Hold on, Emily. Don't force yourself up. Are you hurt?"
You winced, clutching your ankle. "I think I might have twisted it. It hurts."
Without hesitation, Joel carefully crouched down beside you, his eyes scanning for any signs of serious injury. "Let me take a look," he said, his voice calm and reassuring.
As he examined your ankle, you couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. The peach tart, now forgotten in the snowy commotion, lay beside you. The chilly air seemed to intensify as Joel's worried gaze focused on your ankle.
"I'm no expert, but it might be best if we get you inside and have a closer look," Joel suggested, his concern evident on his voice.
You nodded, appreciating his attentiveness. With Joel's support, you managed to stand, albeit with difficulty. Together, you limped towards his front door, the snow underfoot now a hindrance rather than a picturesque setting.
Once inside, Joel helped you settle into a chair. "I think it might be a good idea to have a doctor take a look at your ankle. I can drive you to the hospital."
But instead of uttering a word, you started crying. Embarrassment and sadness clouded your mind, with a possible broken ankle you wouldn’t be able to drive to your parent’s house and you just had ruined Joel’s tart.
Joel, seeing your distress, knelt down beside you, his expression a blend of concern and empathy. "Hey, it's okay. Accidents happen, and your health is what matters most right now. We'll figure things out."
“But I ruined your tart” you sobbed, into your palms.
“I don’t care about the tart now, but you, okay? Let me drive you to the hospital” he said, looking out his car keys.
“No, Joel, I can drive myself” you insisted, attempting to push away the feeling of being a burden.
"Don't be a dummy, peach," he said, using the endearing nickname. Joel gently took your hands away from your face, looking into your eyes with sincerity. "Your health is more important. We'll figure out the rest later. Let me help you."
Feeling embarrassed, you nodded, realizing the truth in his words. With Joel's support, you allowed him to guide you to his car, the winter chill contrasting with the warmth of his concern.
As Joel drove carefully through the snowy streets to the hospital, a quiet and comfortable silence settled between you two. The twinkling Christmas lights outside seemed to blur in the background as your thoughts focused on the unexpected turn of events.
"I appreciate your help, Joel," you finally said, breaking the silence.
He glanced at you, a reassuring smile on his face. "That's what neighbors do, right? Look out for each other. Plus, I wouldn't want you driving with a potentially broken ankle."
Your previous accident hit you again, and you sighed. "This wasn't how I imagined spending Christmas Eve."
Joel nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Life has a way of surprising us. Perhaps, something good may happen after this” he said, looking to the front of the road.
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Arriving at the hospital, Joel helped you out of the car and into the emergency room. As you waited for the doctor, the events of the day played in your mind. Despite the unexpected twists, you found solace in the genuine care Joel had shown towards you right now, as he took care of you by holding your hand tightly as you both wait for the doctor to attend your ankle.
After what felt like an eternity, the doctor finally arrived, breaking the quiet tension in the emergency room. Joel stood by your side, holding your hand tightly, offering a reassuring anchor as the doctor began to assess your ankle.
The doctor examined the X-rays and then turned to you with a composed expression. "Well, it seems you have a broken ankle. Nothing too severe, but you'll need to be cautious and follow the recommended care for a proper recovery."
You nodded, absorbing the news with a mix of resignation, and the doctor continued to explain the care instructions, detailing the use of crutches, the importance of keeping weight off the injured foot, and the expected timeline for healing.
Joel listened attentively; his concern evident in his eyes. However, to your surprise, the doctor, with a knowing smile, glanced between you and Joel.
"You're fortunate to have such a supportive boyfriend," the doctor said, assuming Joel was your boyfriend.
“Oh, he is-“
“Of course, everything for taking care of my girl” Joel interrupted, playing along with the assumption. He smiled warmly at you, as the grip on your hand gently tightened.
You exchanged a surprised glance with Joel, realizing that he was choosing to support the charade. The doctor continued, providing further guidance and answering any questions you both had.
As the appointment concluded, the doctor left the room, leaving you and Joel alone once again. You couldn't help but feel confusion at Joel’s behavior.
“Why did you do that?” you asked, curious.
Joel looked at you with a sheepish grin, his eyes reflecting a mix of playfulness and sincerity. "Well, it just seemed easier at the moment. Plus, I didn't want to complicate things. It's not like it's hurting anyone, right?"
“oh” you said, your tone disappointed.
“And because I think you are beautiful” he said, once he felt the disappointed in your voice “And I don’t care about peach tarts when I would rather taste the lips of the person who bakes them” he confessed.
Joel's confession hung in the air, and you found yourself caught between surprise and a growing warmth in your cheeks.
"I didn't mean to disappoint you," Joel said, a hint of concern in his eyes.
Your disappointment had quickly shifted to a mixture of surprise and something else—a fluttering sensation in your stomach. "No, Joel, it's not that. I just didn't expect—"
He gently interrupted, "Expect the unexpected, right? Life has a way of surprising us, I told you earlier” he said, smirking.
"Beautiful, huh?" you teased, attempting to lighten the moment.
Joel grinned, "Oh, absolutely.” He continued, "And as for the peach tart, I'd gladly trade it for a taste of something sweeter."
With a subtle shift, Joel leaned in, closing the distance between you. The moment felt like a suspended breath, a pause in time where the unexpected had become a canvas for something beautiful.
Your heart raced as Joel's lips met yours, the taste of your lips was just as sweet as he imagined, and the world outside, covered in a blanket of white, seemed to fade away as the warmth of your new found connection met in both of your lips moving against each other.
As the kiss deepened, you started to feel breathless, a rush of emotions swirling within you, and you even felt grateful for breaking your ankle because it led you to Joel.
the taste of the shared kiss created a sense of completeness, as if the universe had conspired to bring you together on this snowy Christmas Eve. The initial disappointment and frustration had given way to a profound appreciation for the serendipitous journey that had unfolded throughout the day.
When the kiss finally broke, you found yourself looking into Joel's eyes, a silent language being spoken between looks.
“Yes, definitely sweeter than a tart” Joel remarked, a playful glint in his eyes.
Joel remarked, the playful glint in his eyes creating a shared laughter that echoed in the quiet space.
You chuckled, the joy of the moment enveloping you both. "I guess breaking my ankle wasn't the worst thing that could've happened today."
Joel grinned, "Who would've thought a slip on the icy pavement could lead to all this?" His eyes held amusement
“Merry Christmas, peach,” he said, kissing you again.
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mannibalecter · 16 days
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just. some thpughts
will graham is not a heartless, soulless bastard of a man. YES! he is a liar and a manipulator. but even monsters played on sunny days as children and watched cable and scraped their knees and whatever. will graham is a bad person, yeah, but he REALLY is not the kind some people are making him out to be ??? will graham states on MULTIPLE occasions that what he's doing with jack is out of necessity to help other people. he says this kind of thing IN FRONT OF HANNIBAL. would he lie to hannibal?? 100 percent without a doubt!! but this was a point where his brain was frying and he was losing time and he really had NO reason to lie. he was vulnerable and I would go so far to say he was honest. the will graham in s3 is the same yet entirely different person as s1 and s2 will. he's gone through so many changes that you can NOT say he was being manipulative and lying the ENTIRE show. I am so so passionate about this show and seeing the aggressive mischaracterization of this man (which I'm still writing abt in a separate post) hurts me body and soul atp. he DOES love. he DOES have friendship. I know for a fact he at least appreciates his dogs!!! will graham is not a saint and he isn't the antichrist. hannibal as a show is NEVER black and white. please for the love of love 🙏🙏 let the man have humanity
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javierpena-inatacvest · 8 months
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Chapter 10, Pt. 1: Happy Birthday, Javi
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Summary: Javier Peña has never liked celebrating his birthday. That is, until you came into his life, and planned to give him a birthday that he will never forget. (Part 1 covers leading up to Javi's birthday and the morning of)
Word Count: 9.3K (I don't know how my peanut brain thought I could make his birthday only one chapter and keep it a reasonable length)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up, y'all), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise, overstimulation (if you squint), anal fingering (f receiving *runs away into the sunset*), Javi being our consent king, Javi really just loving your ass (It's his birthday, give the man what he wants), mentions of death/grief (but in a really sweet, wholesome way), mentions of food/eating, Chucho Peña once again being the world's best dad and you two having the cutest lil bonding moment, sweet tooth-rotting fluff (but it's these two, so would you expect nothing less?)
A/N: The people have spoken, so I now present to you, part 1 of Chapter 10. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I started writing this chapter, I knew it was about to be long as hell because our sweet Javi deserves the best birthday ever, and boy oh boy, is he gonna get it. Also keep in mind as you read this, that I will die on the hill that Javi loves all of you, but is 100% an ass man though and through don't make eye contact with me after reading this, man deserves his lil birthday treat More birthday fun is coming soon!!! Thanks to the very talented @wheresarizona for the inspiration of this birthday smut!
Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter
“New boots?” 
“No.” 
“A new briefcase for work?” 
“No.” 
“A pony? A trip to the moon? A million dollars? C’mon Javi, it’s gonna be your birthday, there has to be at least something that you want!” You groaned, playfully hitting Javi’s chest as your warm bodies laid tangled together in your bedsheets, sunlight just beginning to spill through your curtains. 
“As long as I get to spend my day with you, that’s all I care about, Osita.” He chuckled at your stubbornness, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead. 
“Ugh, you being so sweet is making this very hard on me, you realize that?” You sighed dramatically, giving him your best grumpy face as you ran your hands through the dark brown curls of his messy morning bedhead. “Alright, you have to go get ready for work, what do you want for breakfast, handsome?” 
“You.” He rasped, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you and nipping at your neck, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your skin making you squeal and squirm. 
“Javi! Real food, you dummy. You’ve already eaten me out and and we’ve fucked this morning and it’s not even 7:00 o’clock yet. At this rate, your work is gonna start writing me up for you getting in later and later every day.” You giggled as you tried to wrestle your way out of Javi’s strong grip, your bodies intertwined with the sheets of your bed as Javi finally let go, giving you a long kiss before letting out an exaggerated sigh. 
“I thought you said you still needed to figure out what to get me for my birthday. This works just fine, Hermosa.” He looked at you, trying to give you his best puppy eyes and pouty lips. You lovingly swatted your arm at him, shaking your head. 
“You cannot use your puppy dog eyes on me like that! Your birthday still isn’t for another week, and believe me, you will get all the birthday sex you want then, but right now, you need to go get ready for work, mmmkay? Do you want scrambled eggs or sunny side up?” 
“How did you know I wanted eggs?” He asked, smiling at you. 
“It’s almost kind of like I know you, just a little bit. Now go, get your cute butt in the shower before your puppy dog eyes take full effect and I lose the little self control I have left.” You gave him a quick kiss as he rolled out of bed, the muscles of his back flexing deliciously as he yawned and stretched his arms above his head before making his way into the bathroom. 
From the moment you had found out about Javi's birthday, he had been very adamant that you didn’t need to do anything special to try and celebrate, let alone get him any gifts. To him, it was just another day that he got older, and that no one needed to do anything to acknowledge that. Truth be told, Javi hadn’t really had anyone to celebrate his birthday with since he was a much younger man than he was now. When he was in Colombia, the only person he had told about his birthday was Steve, and with the threat of beating the shit out of him if he told anyone else, the most Javi ever got for the past decade or so was Steve’s annual bottle of birthday whisky and a phone call from his dad. He wasn’t used to anyone caring about him, let alone his birthday. Javi knew that you were a terrible liar and couldn’t keep a secret to save your life, so you had been trying your best to throw him off your tracks for the past few weeks by asking things like what he wanted for his birthday, or what he wanted to do to celebrate. Little did he know, you already had a plan in place to give him the best birthday that he’d had in a very, very long time. Today, you had to try and execute the next phase of your birthday plot, which required a little luck, and finding Javi’s cell phone. 
Once you heard the water of the shower running, you knew you were in the clear. You shuffled over to Javi’s side of the bed, where his pants from the night before were still laying in a heap on the floor. Digging through his back pocket, you pulled out his cell phone, opening it up to press through the contacts page. “I really hope he only knows one Steve…” you mumbled to yourself as your finger clicked on the down arrow, scrolling through the names on the tiny screen. “Samuel H… Sargent Davis… Oh yes, here we go! Steve!” You were relieved to find there was only one Steve saved in his phone, assuming that it had to be his former partner Steve Murphy. You quickly ran out to the kitchen to grab a notepad and a pen to scribble down his number before closing his phone and folding the piece of paper, stashing it away in your nightstand. 
After you had opened up to Javi about your brother, Patrick, he slowly started to reciprocate, letting you dive deeper into his past life in Colombia, beginning to share stories from his time halfway around the world. One of the things you had quickly picked up on was how much he really liked his former DEA partner, despite how many times he had told you he was the biggest pain in his ass he had ever met. So much so, that a few weeks ago, Javi had gone out of his way to call Steve, just to catch up and talk, learning that his friend had moved to the San Antonio area not too long ago, looking to get away from the hustle and bustle of Miami. The conversation had ended with them saying they should get together at some point, and the party you had been planning for Javi seemed like just the right occasion to try and reunite him with his old friend. The plan was to try and call him today while Javi was at work and pray that he really was the right Steve you were looking for, and that he and his family would be able to come down and celebrate. 
Satisfied with your mission, you slipped on one of Javi’s now many shirts that lived in your drawers, his collection of clothes at your apartment seeming to grow by the week as the two of you spent more and more time together. You headed out to the kitchen, pouring yourself your mandatory cup of coffee before you got to work on breakfast. 
As Javi made his way down the hall, freshly showered and suited up for work, he leaned up against the wall, enjoying the new favorite part of his morning routine. It didn’t take long for Javi to start spending practically every night at your apartment once the two of you had started dating, his presence in your home becoming an almost permanent fixture in your day to day life. It took even less time for Javi to quickly discover there were few things he loved more than coming into the kitchen after he had showered and gotten himself ready for work to find you in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts, singing along to whatever music you had picked for the morning as you cooked breakfast. It had now become ingrained as his favorite part of his morning, taking a few extra minutes just to lean against the kitchen wall and stare, taking in everything about your sweet and sassy self that made his heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest every time he watched you dance and sing around the kitchen. This morning’s choices were his navy blue DEA shirt and Hall and Oats, already finding you singing louder than usual to “You Make My Dreams Come True.” 
“Someone’s in a good mood this morning.” He chuckled, standing behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin against your shoulder as he watched you scramble the eggs in the pan below you. 
“Well it’s hard to be in a bad mood when you wake up to getting dicked down by your super hot boyfriend who comes out of the shower in his stupidly attractive suits for work.” You giggled as he kissed your shoulder, giving your ass a playful smack. “I could say the same for you, ya goof.” 
“Like you said Osita, hard to be in a bad mood when you wake up next to the most beautiful woman in the world and come out to find her making you breakfast in nothing but your shirt. The sex part’s alright too, I guess.” You nudged your elbow into his stomach as you both laughed. 
“Oh please, like you weren’t practically begging me to go for a second round this morning. Here, eat your breakfast, you horny menace.” You giggled as you put the finished eggs on a plate and handed them off to him. 
Per usual, Javi had already almost inhaled his food by the time you sat down to eat with him, taking a big mouthful of your eggs as he cleared his plate. “Any plans for today, Osita?” He asked, taking a sip of coffee out of the Star Wars mug that had now become his personal favorite after had finished watching the last of the 3 movies a few weeks ago. 
“Just some errands and stuff.” You tried your best to keep a straight face, knowing that you weren’t really lying about your plans for today, but you also weren’t exactly telling the truth. “Should probably start working on getting stuff ready for going back to school. I need to accept the fact that summer’s gonna come to an end at some point, as much as I don’t want it to.” You shrugged, trying to change the subject of Javi’s initial question. “Your complimentary breakfast and lunch every morning may not be as frequent once I have to go back to work, so I apologize in advance.” 
“No need to apologize, baby. You’ve spoiled me for the past few months. Just means I get to wake up early and make you breakfast now.” He stood up, grabbing his plate to bring it over to the sink, stopping first to give you a kiss on the forehead. After cleaning up, Javi downed the rest of his coffee and gathered his things to head out the door, preparing for the second favorite part of his morning, giving you one last hug and kiss goodbye before leaving for work. “Have a great day, Osita. Can’t wait to see you later. I love you.” He draped his arms around you, hugging you from behind as you still sat in your kitchen chair, planting a kiss on your cheek as you turned around to face him. 
“Love you too, Jav. Have a good day.” You stretched your neck towards him as he leaned down, your lips meeting softly and tenderly, leaving smiles on your parted mouths as you pulled away. Closing the door behind him, you gave him a soft smirk, the both of you beginning your internal countdown of the hours that needed to pass until you saw each other again. 
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As soon as you heard the door lock, you waited a moment before you ran back to your room, grabbing the piece of paper with Steve’s phone number, hoping it was early enough to try and catch him before he got to work. You took a deep breath, wanting to make a good first impression on Javi's friend, even if it was just over the phone. You punched the numbers written on your note into the keypad, sitting on the couch as you let the dial tone ring. 
“Hello?” a low voice with a pronounced twang answered. 
“Hi, is this um, is this Steve?” You asked, anxiously chewing on your bottom lip, crossing your fingers that you had the right number written down from Javi’s contacts. 
“Yeah, this is Steve. Who’s askin’? Sorry, gimme one sec- Hey Connie, Olivia wants to know if she’s stayin’ late for soccer practice today. Okay, yeah, I’ll remind her. Hey sorry, tryin’ to get the girls off to summer camp and daycare or God knows where. Jesus, I cannot wait for school to start again. Sorry, who’d you say you were?” You let out a little sigh of relief hearing Connie and Olivia’s names, knowing you for sure had the right Steve. 
“I’m um, I’m Javi’s girlfriend.” You introduced yourself. 
“Well I’ll be damned. You really are real.” You could hear him chuckle to himself through the other end of the phone. “Javi wouldn’t shut up about you when we talked a few weeks ago. I’d never thought I’d live to see the day I saw that man so in love. What can I help ya with?” You smiled to yourself, blushing at the fact Javi hadn’t talked to Steve in months and you were the thing he was most excited to bring up. 
“Well, I heard from Javi last time the two of you talked that you moved to San Antonio not too long ago. I don’t know if you remember, but Javi’s birthday is coming up, and I’m trying to throw him a surprise birthday party and I wanted to invite you.  I’m sure he’d love to see you- Connie and your daughters, too. The party’s going to be Saturday the 16th at 3:00 at his dad’s ranch! I completely understand that it’s a big ask, and kind of last minute, but I figured I’d at least try!” 
“Awh shit, it is, isn’t it. I do owe that old man a few years worth of birthday whiskey. Lemme go talk to my wife real quick, hang on.” You heard him set the phone down as you held your phone up between your ear and shoulder, grabbing your notepad to write down a list of things you needed to get today while you waited for Steve’s response. “Hey, you still there?” You heard his voice again through the receiver. 
“Yup, still here!” 
“Looks like that old man’s about to have some more birthday guests. Con just wants to make sure it’s really okay if we bring the girls.” 
“Absolutely! Lots of friends and family are coming, so there will be plenty of other kids there, too! Thanks Steve, I know this will really mean a lot to him.” 
“Perfect. I sure do miss that asshole. Thanks for the invite. I guess we’ll see you on the 16th.” 
“Thanks again, Steve!” 
“Of course. And hey- I wasn’t jokin’ when I said that he wouldn’t shut up about you. You got him head over heels in love. I think I could count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen that grumpy bastard smile and I could practically hear him grinnin’ through the phone. Glad to know he found someone who makes him happy.” You could hear the other end of the line click as Steve hung up the phone, leaving you with nothing but an ear to ear grin as you grabbed your list and got yourself ready for the day. 
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You had really been putting Javi’s lie detector skills to the test the past few weeks, going out during the day to meet with Chucho at the ranch to work together to plan Javi’s surprise party. Javi’s dad was absolutely thrilled with the idea after you had brought it up in secrecy one night when you and Javi had gone over for dinner, and was enthusiastic as can be to try and help you make the day a special memory for his son. Today was the last day you could be over at the Peña ranch to help with preparations without raising too many suspicions from Javi, losing out on your excessive free time as you needed to start preparing for the beginning of the new school year. Heading in with your arms full from your massive trip you had just taken for party food and decorations, you walked into the Peña home looking for Chucho. 
“Hey Chucho, it’s me!” You shouted, kicking your shoes off at the door as you balanced your grocery bags in your arms. 
“Hola, Mija! I’m in the kitchen!” He shouted from across the house, his tone warm and joyful. You grunted as you set down your bags on the table, finding Chucho in his usual spot at the stove, cooking something for the two of you to eat as you talked party details. 
“What’s on the menu today, chef? It smells delicious!” You smiled, unpacking the groceries as Chucho wiped his hands on his apron, waddling over to help you. 
“Chilaquiles. Figured it’s still early enough for breakfast food, and I know it’s your favorite.” He chuckled to himself as he watched you pull more and more items out of the brown paper bags.  “Dios mio, mija. Did you buy the entire store?” 
“It feels like it. With how many people we have coming, I don’t even know if this is going to be enough! Steve is coming, too! And his wife and daughters. I just called him today. I really think Javi’s gonna be excited to see him.” You grinned, your heart feeling full thinking about how many people wanted to come celebrate Javi on his birthday. 
“Oh, estupendo! (Wonderful!) He will be thrilled. Wait, how did you manage to invite him without Javier finding out?” He raised an eyebrow at you as he walked back over to the stove to turn off one of the burners. 
“I have my ways.” You smirked as you gave your shoulders a little shrug, organizing the items on the table. 
“Chiflado.” (Crazy). He snickered, plopping an egg on each of your plates over the fried tortillas and sauce. “That one can be our word for the day. It’s a good one. Here, eat, mija.” He smiled, passing a plate over to you as you sat down at the table, Chucho pulling out a chair to join you. Ever since you started meeting with Chucho a few weeks ago, you had asked him if he would help you work on your Spanish, knowing how important it was to Javi and his family. You cared so deeply for both the Peña men who were now a part of your life, and the least you could do was learn more of the language so deeply ingrained in their identities. Like most things you asked Chucho for help with, he was enamored by the idea, your request practically bringing him to tears. Since then, he’d been helping you learn more words and phrases, picking one to focus on each time you meet.   
“Chiflado.” You repeated, taking a bite full of your food. “What does that one mean?” 
“Someone who is crazy, a little bit nutty. It’s a good one for you, mija, and Javier.” You both laughed at each other, enjoying his use of the word. 
“That is a good one. Good one for me and you today since this is the last chance we have to plan together before the party.” 
“Es la verdad.” (It’s the truth.) So tell me, Chiflado, what’s our plan for today?” He winked at you as he set down his fork over his already cleared plate. 
“Well, I was thinking you could work on food, and I could help with decorations, since it’ll involve a lot of getting up and down off of chairs, and before you can tell me you’d be just fine, I don’t need to hear you whisper “Punta madre, me dulele las rodillas (Motherfucker, my knees hurt.) all day when I could have just done it for you.” You looked at him sternly, knowing that Javi had definitely inherited his stubbornness from his father, often leaving you in Chucho in a battle of iron wills over helping each other. 
“Fine, fine, fine.” He swatted his hand at you. “Just tell me soy un anciano (I’m an old man) and move on.” The both of you broke from your stubbornness, laughing playfully at one another. Chucho grunted as he stood up, outstretching his hand to take your plate back to the sink. You stood up out of your chair, pushing it behind you as you let out a quiet, nervous breath. You had been working up the courage to ask Chucho the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind for the past few weeks. Every time you tried, you’d chickened out, but with only one last meeting between the two of you before Javi’s birthday, you knew you had to do it now. 
“Um, there is uh, one more thing I wanted to ask for your help with, if it’s okay.” You said shyly, Chucho turning his head in confusion at your now meak voice. 
“Of course, Mija. Cómo puedo ayudarte? (How can I help you?). 
“I- I wanted to know if Javi had a favorite food his mom used to make him before she passed. I really wanted to surprise him and make it for his birthday. But I know how special Lucia’s recipes are to you, and if you don’t want me to make it, I totally understand. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, I wanted to ask for your help since-” 
Before you could finish, Chucho was standing with his arms outstretched, tears welling in his eyes, as he pulled you in for a hug, tightly wrapping you in his grasp. “Oh Mija.” He whispered between gentle sobs. “I would love nothing more.” He took a step back from you, hands still grasping your shoulders as the wrinkles of his worn face crinkled from his smile. “She would have loved you, Mija. She would have loved you so much. I know she is smiling down on us, knowing the joy you have brought to our sweet Javier’s life. Dios la bendiga (God bless her), all she ever wanted was for him to be happy. It brings me peace to know she can rest a little easier, seeing the love and happiness you bring to our hijo. I know Javier is so thankful he found you, but know I am just as thankful, too.” 
You could feel the tears beginning to stream down your cheeks as Chucho spoke. You wished you had words to tell him how much it meant. That you were so grateful to be a part of Javi’s life, so thankful that Chucho had loved and accepted you, like you were one of his own from the moment that you two had met. You wished you could tell him how honored you were that he thought so highly of you, when all you wanted to do was just make Javi happy. You wished you had those words, but right now, they couldn’t make it out. The best you could do through your tears was pull Chucho back in for a hug, letting out a shaky whisper. 
“Thank you, Chucho. For everything.” 
He pulled back once more, the both of you wiping the tears off your wet cheeks as you smiled at one another. “Of course, mija. Of course.” He paused for a moment to compose himself before wiping his hands on his apron with a mischievous grin. “Tears won’t taste any good in our stew. C’mon, let’s get cooking.” 
Chucho pulled the well loved recipe box out of the shelf above the stove, flipping through its contents to pull out an index card covered in red sauce stains and tears around its edges. “Here we are. Pozole de pollo. Javier’s favorite dish. This is the last one from Lucia’s box I've yet to make.” He smiled to himself, gently holding the tattered recipe card in his hands before passing it off to you. 
“Why haven’t you made it yet?” You asked curiously as you ran your finger up and down the worn recipe card. 
“It’s the one that reminds me the most of her. Just haven’t been able to bring myself to make it. Now, I couldn’t be more excited to.” He beamed at you, grin stretched from ear to ear. 
The two of you quickly got to work, Chucho walking you through each step, mentally noting to yourself all of the little details he pointed out as you worked your way through the directions. You wanted to make sure that you didn’t miss a thing, feeling the need to do the special recipe as much justice as you could. While waiting for things to boil and simmer, the two of you found yourself chatting away as you chopped the rest of the vegetables you needed for your sauce and garnishes.
“You know, pozole de pollo was the only thing Javier ever wanted to eat when he came home from college.” Chucho chuckled, chopping up the rest of the garlic he had in front of him. “Could eat a whole batch of it in a day, a bowl for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Even in the dead heat of summer.” 
“I believe it, that man is an eating machine.” You giggled, pulling out the chiles you’d finished soaking for your sauce. “Did he know he wanted to work for the DEA when he graduated?” 
“I don’t know if he knew that, but he did always want to have some sort of job where he felt like he was making a difference. Always had a strong sense of right and wrong, and always wanted to help others. Lucia and I weren’t thrilled when he got the job, no parent wants to think about their child in danger. But you know as well as I do that our Javier is a stubborn man, and if he wants something, there is no stopping him until he gets it. That’s how I knew he was in love with you. Wouldn’t stop talking about you from the moment he met you. For goodness sake, he woke up at 5 in the morning to build a fence just to see you. He’s a man who knows what he wants.” You tried your best to hide the red of your blushing cheeks as Chucho blended the pozole sauce. “That’s how I know he is counting down the days until he can ask you to marry him.” 
You just about dropped your ladle into the pot of boiling broth you were now stirring, hoping Chucho hadn’t heard the audible gasp you had made. “What… What did you say?” You asked as you gulped, trying to keep your cool. 
“You heard what I said, Mija.” Chucho smirked, clearly enjoying your current flustered state. “Don’t worry, he hasn’t said anything to me… Yet. But like I said, when Javier knows what he wants, he won’t stop until he gets it. I’m sure if I asked him, he’d say he’ll give it a year, but I give it 6 months, tops.” 
This time, the ladle you had been white knuckle grasping had now fallen to the floor, your face in absolute shock as your hand covered your face. “Wait, do you, are you… Chucho, are you being serious?” 
“Mija, all I know is that Javier está enloquecido por ti y el te ama con todo su corazón. (Javier is crazy for you and loves you with his whole heart) and I am not getting any younger. I need some nietos (grandchildren) to spoil before I get too old.” His grin now even bigger as he chuckled to himself, watching your cheeks turn bright pink, taking every ounce of self restraint you had in you to keep yourself from smiling like an idiot. You bit down on your bottom lip, Chucho letting you have a few moments of peace as you turned back around to the stove to stir the pozole. Chucho just kept shaking his head and laughing to himself, almost as if he could hear the squeals of delight screaming in your head through the quiet silence of the kitchen as you continued cooking.
“Alright Mija, what do you think?” Chucho said, handing over a spoon now that the pozole was finally finished, simmering in its pot on the stove. You scooped some up, slurping down the warm broth as Chucho followed suit, letting out a satisfied hum. 
“It’s delicious. No wonder it’s Javi’s favorite. What do you think? Is it okay?” You looked at him nervously, waiting for his response as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 
“Just as good as I remember it, if not better. Javier will love it, almost as much as he loves you.” He winked, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulder, smiling at the stew and then back up at you. “I have a feeling this will be the best birthday that he’s had in a very long time, thanks to you. Now, what do you say you listen to this old man swear at his knees as he helps you put up these decorations?” 
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You couldn’t believe it. Javi’s birthday was finally here, and everything had gone off without a hitch. Chucho had called one last time yesterday to let you know that everything was ready for the party, you had successfully hidden all your gifts and surprises in the apartment without them being discovered, and best of all, Javi hadn’t suspected a thing. You had made sure the night before to set your alarm to its quietest volume, praying that Javi wouldn’t hear and would sleep in long enough to let you put up some decorations in the apartment before making him breakfast and giving him a proper birthday good morning. Seemingly unstirred by your alarm, you tiptoed out of bed, trying your best not to wake Javi as he snored face down into his pillow. You grabbed some clothes before carefully closing the door behind you, fingers crossed that you could at least get another 30 minutes of sleep out of him. You quickly got to work taping the streamers and banners along the ceiling, topping off your decor with the balloons you had someone managed to hide in your coat closet. After setting out your gifts on the table, you quickly got to work on breakfast, indulging in your own family’s birthday tradition of confetti pancakes, which were really just pancakes with sprinkles and whip cream, but given Javi’s insatiable sweet tooth, you were sure they’d be a hit. You started with pancakes, along with the bacon and eggs, so focused on trying to get things done as quickly as possible, you hadn’t heard your bedroom door creek open down the hallway. Javi’s footsteps were soft and sleepy, the carpet of your apartment floors drowning out the sound as he finally stepped into the living room, speechless at what he saw. 
“Osita…” His voice shook, mouth hanging half open in shock as he looked around at the colorful streamers and balloons that filled the apartment. He took another step further into the living room, now noticing the handmade banner that read “Happy Birthday, Javi!” in your cute, neat handwriting. He was still at a loss for words as he turned the corner in the kitchen to find you, finishing the last of your pancakes for the breakfast feast you had put together for him. 
“No, go back to bed! Don’t look, I’m almost done! You didn’t see anything!” You ran towards him, trying your best to turn Javi around and force him back towards the bedroom. You pushed against his chest, trying to get him to move as he stood there for a moment before wrapping his arms around you, still taking in everything that you had set up for him. 
“Baby… Did you… Is this… Is this all for me?” He asked, eyes glistening with joy, as he turned his head down to you, smiling in his grasp. 
“No, I just really wanted to celebrate my birthday early. Yes, of course it’s for you. But right now, I need you to go back to bed for like 5 more minutes so I can finish and get my first present ready, pretty please?” You grinned at the tender expression on his face as he tried to process that you had really gone out of your way to do all of this for him. 
“Baby, I told you, you didn’t need to get me anything, you already did so much, you don’t need to-” 
“Javier Peña. It is your birthday. I want nothing more than to shower you with love and gifts and affection, but only if you go back into the bedroom and wait a teeny tiny bit longer and pretend it’s not your birthday yet for another few minutes.” You giggled, now shoving back into him, attempting to push his broad body down the hallway. He finally gave in, throwing his hands up, laughing as you guided him back into the bedroom, giving him a quick peck on the lips before closing the door behind him. 
As promised, it didn’t take long for you to get yourself ready for Javi’s first present of the day, slowly opening back up the bedroom door to find Javi laying down in the bed, elbow resting on the mattress with his hand under his chin holding up his head. “You ready for it to be your birthday now?” You giggled, peeking your head through the crack of the open door. 
“Yes, baby, I’m ready for it to be my- Oh, fuck me.” By the time you had made it through the doorway, Javi was sitting upright in bed, jaw just about on the floor as he watched you enter the room. You stood at the end of the bed in a lacy, black lingerie set- the bustier hugging against every curve of your body, its garters holding up the stockings pulled up your thighs, topped off with a strappy lace thong. You could hear how heavy Javi was breathing as he watched your every move towards him, his tongue darting out between his lips as he looked you up and down, soaking up every inch of you. 
“Happy Birthday, Javi.” You winked, making your way towards the edge of the bed, watching as Javi’s eyes grow darker with lust. Your sweet voice was enough to already make his cock start to twitch, but that, paired with the fact you were all dressed up just for him had him half hard in seconds. 
“Hermosa… Fuck… You look fucking incredible. Is this all for me, baby? Do I get to unwrap you like the pretty little present you are?” He rasped, practically climbing over the edge of the mattress to pull you into bed with him. He grabbed you by the hand, ushering you up onto the bed as you straddled over his lap, feeling how hard and heavy his dick had grown beneath you in his boxers. His hands slid along your sides, fingers tracing over the lacy fabric before he reached down to grab a handful of your ass, kneading your soft flesh between the strong grip of his fingertips. 
“I don’t know… I thought you said that you didn’t want any presents.” You teased, Javi giving you a playful smack on the ass for your witty remark. 
“If this is the only present I get to unwrap for the rest of my life, I’ll die a fucking happy man.” He mewled, grabbing your hips as he pushed you deeper into his lap, groaning as you rolled your hips against his cock, straining against the fabric of his underwear. 
“Don’t worry, this one’s just the first of many. You can unwrap me however you want, birthday boy. Anything you want, I’m all yours.” Your words made him shutter as he looked up at you, a curious smirk growing under his mustache. 
“Anything?” He whispered, licking his lips, his eyes filled with want and desire. 
“Anything.” You cooed, raising your eyebrows at him. 
“Fuck me…” He took one more look at you before grabbing you and flipping you on to your back, making you squeal. He kissed his way down your body, hot, wet presses of his lips against your skin and lace, covering you from your chest to your stomach. His hands ran up and down the meat of your thighs, fingers toying with the ends of your stockings before wrapping his arms under your legs, yanking you closer to him.  He grazed his fingers over your thong, the fabric already soaked, as he pushed it to the side, revealing the slick pooling along your entrance. 
“Jesus, Osita, haven’t even touched you yet and look at how wet you are for me. Fuck, I need to taste you, baby.” Spreading your legs open wider, he dove into your pussy like a man starved, feverishly lapping you up, tongue swirling and pressing against your already throbbing clit. It wasn’t long until his two fingers pushed inside you with ease, making you gasp as your back arched along the bed, whimpering at the way his mouth and hands worked against your heat. 
“Javiiiii…” You whined, bucking your hips towards his face, already feeling the arousal starting to pool in your belly at the way he knew just how to make you come undone. “Baby, you feel so good, fuck, Javi, fuck.” 
He removed his mouth for a moment, his breath hot against your sensitive bundle of nerves as he glanced up at you in delight. “Yeah? It feels good, Hermosa? Gonna be a good girl and cum all over my face, let me taste that sweet fucking pussy?” You nodded frantically, practically feeling his smirk against you as his fingers curved, hitting the sweet spot inside you that had the heat building at the base of your spine. He licked long, flat strokes of his tongue against your clit, his hand thrusting deeper into you, moaning his name over and over as you squirmed underneath him, his free arm draping over your hips, holding you in place. You could feel how tightly you were beginning to clench around his hand, your pussy fluttering as you felt yourself reaching your high. 
“Javi, Javi, Javiiiii.” His name the only words forming as your brain short circuited, coming closer and closer to your end. 
“Keep saying my name, baby. I love the way you say it. Don’t hold back, Hermosa, let me hear how good it feels when I make you cum.” It only took a few more thrusts of his hand before you snapped, crying out his name as your pleasure rolled through you, your fists grasping at the bed sheets. You cunt clenched around him, squeezing his fingers as they still pulsed inside you, nowhere close to easing from their usual pace after Javi watched you fall apart beneath him. You could feel yourself panting, worked up and on the edge of overstimulation. 
“Gonna give you one more, Osita. Doing so good for me, pretty girl. I know you can take it, baby, just a little bit more.” He purred, giving you a smug look before barely pressing his thumb against your clit, making you cry out from his touch, so sensitive and worked up from your first orgasm. The pad of his thumb pushed just a little bit harder, circling around your mound as you felt yourself on the brink of falling apart once more. Already so close, he slipped a third finger into your heat, the sweet stretch of his digits inside you making you lose yourself once more. Your moans were swallowed by his lips as he leaned down to kiss you, finally slowing his pace before removing his hand, leaving your legs trembling and breathing heavy as you tried to compose yourself. “Such a good girl, taking me so well.” He hummed, cradling the jaw of your blissed out face as he brought his other hand to your mouth, his fingers drenched and glistening from your slick. “Open.” His thumb pulled at your bottom lip as you complied. “Taste how sweet you are for me, baby. Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever had, and it’s all fucking mine.” Your tongue swirled around his fingers as they rested in your mouth, sucking the tangy taste of you off of them before pulling back out. 
“It’s all yours, Javi. It’s all yours.” You moaned, finally catching your breath enough to form a coherent thought. 
“You really meant it, Osita? Anything I want?” His hands running up and down the length of your body, taking in how beautiful you looked beneath him, lace covered and blissed out, all for him. 
“Anything you want.” You repeated, the sweet brown gaze of his eyes locking with yours. 
“Hands and knees, baby.” He smirked, grabbing you by the waist as he pulled you up, propping you on all fours as he shuffled behind you on the bed, smacking your ass before gently massaging your flesh. “I fucking love you so much, you know that? Fuck, I’m so lucky. So lucky that you’re mine, all dressed up just for me, Jesus Christ, you’re fucking perfect.” You whimpered as you felt him line himself up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, the lips of your pussy still soaked and puffy from your last two orgasms. 
“Fuck, I love you too Jav-ahhhhhhh.” You gasped as you felt Javi bottom out inside of you, the angle of him pushing himself into from behind always stretching you in a way that had you speechless. He paused for a moment before slowly beginning to rock his hips, only pushing himself halfway in, savoring how sweet you felt. It wasn’t long before his thrusts became deeper, his cock brushing against your cervix, punching into the spot that had your vision going white, leaving you trembling and breathless. You could hear how wet you were, the sounds of him pounding in and out of your weeping pussy on top of the grunts and whimpers between you two had the room sounding borderline pornagraphic. 
Despite how amazing it felt as he pumped in to you, there was a part of you that was surprised that fucking you from behind was all he wanted after you had given him free reign for his birthday. Javi loved your ass, and that was putting it lightly. The man worshiped it, and being on your hands and knees was a position you found yourself in frequently in the bedroom, so you were surprised that this was his choice. That was until you felt his fingers reaching under your thong, pulling the lace even further to the side, the wet spit of his mouth on your ass, his hand creeping further down the base of your spine until it stopped there. 
Oh. 
Oh. 
You felt his thumb press against the tight ring of your muscle, swirling his spit as you shuttered, cunt clenching at the thought of what he was about to do. You knew why he wanted you like this. Oh, fuck. 
“Is this okay?” He asked softly, gently pressing the pad of his thumb more firmly against your tight hole, making you whine in delight.
You nodded desperately, your response practically incoherent as it babbled from your brain, falling off your tongue. “Yes, oh my god, Javi.” 
“Osita, tell me if it’s too much. If it’s too much I’ll stop right away, okay? Promise you’ll tell me?” God, this man was about to put his thumb in your ass and he still found a way to make it sweet. 
“I promise.” 
“Okay.” He kept his thrusts inside you steady as you felt his thumb breach inside, making you whine. Audibly whine. His thumb was barley in you and it felt so tight, the feeling of how full you felt making you wetter by the second. “Relax baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you. Doing so good for me, sweet girl.” He hummed, his praise deep and horse. You took a deep breath, feeling yourself relax as he pushed his thumb in further, making you whimper as you felt your clit absolutely throbbing with each press of his digit inside you. “You okay?” He asked, leaning over you, nipping at your shoulder as you shook your head yes, your brain an absolute loss for words. You gasped as you felt his thumb exit, being replaced by his two fingers pushing deeper into your tight hole. You felt so full, the size of his cock and the thickness of his fingers had you whimpering, clawing at the bed sheets underneath you. The thrusts of both his dick and hand slowly began to pick up their pace, feeling yourself throbbing in delight from the stimulation. It was like you could feel every nerve in your body screaming in pleasure, you were barely hanging on by a thread, painfully close to your end. All it took was the slightest press of the heel of Javi’s palm against your clit before you were screaming out his name once more. 
“Javi, fuck, fuck oh my god, Javi, I’m gonna-ahhhhhAHHH.” 
Your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, leaving every inch of your body trembling, practically seeing stars from how hard you came. That was all it took for Javi to follow suit. He was already so worked up from the image of you, riled up and moaning his name, that watching you cum as hard as you did sent him over the edge instantly. It took all of his self restraint to not come from the moment you had agreed to let him play with your ass. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it more often than not, wanting to pleasure you in any way he could, and now that you had let him, it was game over. With only a few more pumps, he found himself rapidly pounding into you as he chased his own high. 
“Fuck baby, I’m gonna come too. Did so good for me, my good girl taking me so well. My fucking perfect girl. Quiero estar contigo para siempre, Osita. Te quiero con toda mi alma. (I want you forever, Osita. I love you with all my soul.) Fuck, I’m-”  You could feel his cock throbbing as he pulsed inside you, spilling deep into your walls, milking himself of ever last drop as he slumped over your body, your chests rising and falling together. After catching his breath, Javi pulled out, the mixture of the two of you running still down your thighs as he quickly got up to go wash his hands and grab a towel, laughing as he returned from the bathroom to find you face down in the bed, sprawled out across the mattress. “You okay, baby?” He shook his head as he sat down on the bed next to you, running his hand across your back. 
“Ho-ly shit.” You rasped, face pressed against your pillow before lifting it up to look over at Javi. “Javi… holy fuck. I don’t think I’ve ever came so hard in my entire life. I think I’m dead. I think I died and went to heaven.” 
“You’re fucking ridiculous, Osita.” He chuckled at your dramatics, gently wiping the cloth against you and cleaning you up before tossing it in the hamper. “To be fair, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard either. Happy fucking birthday to me. This is the best  birthday I’ve ever had and it’s not even 10:00 AM yet. God, I love you.” You sat up as he grabbed your face, pulling you in for a long, deep kiss, a grin spreading across his lips as your mouths met. 
“Well then you’re in luck, your day’s just gettin’ started, birthday boy.” You winked, playfully pinching his cheek as the two of you laughed. 
“Does this mean I finally get to go out and see the rest of the apartment now?” Javi smiled, now remembering all the decorations you had set up for him around the house that he had only half appreciated in his shocked and sleepy state. 
“Absolutely. I’ve got breakfast and more presents for you too.” 
“God, what the fuck did I ever do to deserve you?” 
“I could ask myself the same thing.”
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Your hunch about the confetti pancakes was absolutely correct, losing track of how many Javi had eaten, considering you’d stopped counting after 4. To you, the decorations that you had set up around the apartment were just a fun touch to help celebrate, but to Javi, it was about the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for him. It almost brought you to tears seeing how excited Javi was that you had got him balloons, streamers, a handmade banner that he couldn’t seem to stop complimenting, even when you insisted that all you did was just write a little more neatly than usual. Javi meant everything to you, and the fact that you were able to bring him so much joy from something so small made your heart burst at the seams. If he was this excited from just decorations, you were really gonna have to ease him into the rest of the day. 
“You ready for your presents, or do I need to make another batch of pancakes?” You laughed as Javi finished off what had to have been his 6th pancake, squirting the can of whipped cream in his mouth to top it off. 
“Baby, I told you, you didn’t have to get me anything. You’ve already done more than enough for me.” He said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he leaned back in his chair. 
“Let me rephrase- I bought you presents and I’m giving them to you. Can I please give them to you now?” You folded your arms over your chest as you gave Javi a stubborn look. 
“Yes, fine. Thank you. They better not be fucking expensive, you don’t need to be spending that kind of money on me.” He grumbled as you handed him over the first gift, slowly taking the tissue paper off the top of the bag. 
“Will you stop being such a party pooper and just open your damn gifts? I’m a big girl, I can spend my money how I want, and I wanted to spend it on you.” You sassed as he shook his head, pulling out a silky blue and red checkered tie out of the gift bag. He smiled as he picked it up, running his hands over the fabric. 
“This is really, really nice, thank you, Osita.” 
“You’re welcome. I figured it’d look good with any of your suits, and that you’d look handsome in it, regardless. Okay, next one!” You grinned, handing him over the next box, waiting excitedly for his reaction as he ripped off the wrapping paper. As Javi peeled the rest of it back, his eyes widened as he looked at the box before looking back up at you in shock.
“Osita…” He stared at you for a moment, just holding the box in his hands, almost as if he was refusing to see what was inside.  
“Will you just open it, please?” You pleaded, having a feeling this was going to be his reaction to your gift. Carefully, he took the lid off the box, his head shaking as he saw what was inside. Gently, he pulled the silver watch out, holding it in his hands as he stared at you with those big, brown puppy dog eyes. 
“Baby… This is fucking nice. Like, so nice. Do you know how expensive these are? You didn’t need to do this, I can’t-” 
“You have been constantly complaining about how your watch does work and you needed a new one. I know it's expensive, but it’s your birthday and you deserve it. And don’t you dare try and tell me to return it, I will come over and put that watch on your wrist myself if I have to.” You raised an eyebrow at him before he could rebuttal, biting down on his tongue as he smiled, slipping on the watch. He got up from his seat, cupping your face, kissing you deeply and tenderly. 
“Thank you, Osita. You’re amazing. I don’t deserve any of this. I just- thank you.” His thumb rubbed along your jaw as he cradled your face, practically feeling the genuine joy and appreciation radiate from him. 
“There’s one more thing I still have to give you.” You beamed, trying your best to contain your excitement for the final gift you had for Javi. 
“Baby, there’s more? You already got me way too much, please-” 
You cut him off, holding out the tiny black box that you had been hiding behind you, gesturing down at it for him to take it, your hands shaky as you nervously passed off the gift. With a sigh, Javi took it, undoing the bow you had tied as he opened the package, looking at it with confusion. 
“A key?” He asked, puzzled by the present. 
“Go take it and stand out in the hallway.” You requested, Javi complying but still utterly confused as to what was happening. Javi stood on the opposite side of your doorway facing you, giving him a little wave before closing it on him and clicking the lock. 
“Osita, what is happening?” You heard him laugh through the other side of the door. 
“Use the key!” You insisted, smiling to yourself as you heard the doorknob rattle, Javi twisting it open as he walked back into the apartment. You grinned at him in anticipation, hoping that he had caught on, but Javi still appeared to be completely oblivious to the point of gift. 
“It’s a key to your apartment?” He questioned, a confused look still spread across his face. 
“Mmmhmmmm.” You nodded, over dramatically, waiting for it to click with him. 
“Baby, I’m really sorry, I don’t understand.” He laughed, running his hand over his face, shaking his head. You put your hands on your hips, looking at him, bewildered how he still had no idea what the key meant. 
“Wow, I really thought your detective skills would have come into play on this one, Agent Peña, but I guess not. Javi. It’s your own key to the apartment. I- I want you to move in with me.” 
“Osita… Are you… Baby, are you serious?” He stood there frozen in shock, his jaw hanging open as he processed what you had just said. 
“I mean, only if you want to, I know it’s kinda fast and I don’t want you to feel pressured, but I- OH!” You shrieked as Javi locked his arms under your thighs, hoisting you up as you wrapped your legs around the small of your back, draping his arms around his shoulders. You could feel his smile against your skin as he peppered you with kisses, making you giggle and squeal as he spun you around the living room. 
“You’re really being serious?” He beamed at you, his grin stretching wide across his face as the tears welled behind his eyes. 
“Of course I’m being serious, ya goof. I love you, Jav.” Your face mirrored his as your happy tears streamed down your cheeks, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you hugged him tightly, Javi squeezing you closer to his chest as he held you.
“I love you so much. Fuck, of course I’ll move in with you. There’s nothing else I’d rather do than spend every day coming home to you. Me haces muy feliz. Eres más de lo que merezco. Tú y yo juntos por siempre, Osita."(You make me so happy. You’re more than I deserve. It’s you and me forever, Osita.) 
"Tú y yo contra el mudo, Javier Peña." (You and me against the word, Javier Peña.) 
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