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javierpena-inatacvest · 2 months

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Chapter 20 pt. 1- I Do

Summary: It's finally here, the day you've been waiting for since the day Javi came into your life and changed it for the better- It's your wedding day, and things couldn't be more perfect. Except for the fact that you and Javi can barley contain your excitement as you wait to see each other.

Word Count: 11.4K (If this wasn't 2 parts, this would be 30k long and wouldn't be finished until May)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, marriage kink (?), kind of semi-public sex (they're gettin' busy in the bathroom), Kind of getting caught (Steve needs to mind his own business), wedding things!!, family dynamics, mentions of death/grief, lots of emotions, Javi being an anxious, blubbering, hot mess, Javi being so in love and is so excited to spend the rest of his life with you that it physically hurts me (this chapter is lots of fluff and feelings and not as much smut, sorry!! Don't worry, there's PLENTY more to come next chapter 🤪)

A/N: Hi friends!!! Well, she's finally here, the moment we've all been waiting for- our two favorite idiots are finally getting married 😭💕 While I would have loved to make this one chapter, it literally would have been SO long, and Lord knows when I actually would have finished with it. So this chapter is the morning leading up to the ceremony, and part 2 will be the ceremony and reception!! I'm not even gonna lie, I bawled several times writing this chapter. These two mean so much to me, and I'm so honored that you care enough about them to be invested in my silly little story, too 🥺 HAPPY WEDDING DAY!!!

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For the better part of his life, Javier Peña was convinced there was nothing more soul-crushingly painful and miserable than a wedding. On a day that was supposed to be filled with happiness and joy, Javi had spent more years than he’d like to admit doing anything to avoid the occasion all together. Because for him, weddings had meant none of those things. Weddings had only served as yet another reminder of the failure he had chalked himself up to be.

Leaving Lorraine at the altar and running away to Colombia.

Watching the successes of everyone else’s blissful domestic lives play out in front of him, while he’d never felt so alone.

Convincing himself that he would never be worthy of love because of the terrible person that he’d become.

Weddings had been something that Javier Peña hated more than most things in life.

But that was until he met you.

Because today, on the morning of his own wedding, Javi was quite literally bursting at the seams with excitement, goofy grin stretched from ear to ear knowing that in a few short hours, he got to marry the most amazing, beautiful, perfect woman he had ever met. And even though the reality had set in that today was finally the day the two of you started your forever together, he was positive that he’d never get over the reality that you would always be his.

As he pulled his truck up the driveway to your new home where he should have been sleeping for the better half of last night, there was a part of him that couldn’t have been more thankful he had been able to sneak in just a few more hours with you before sunrise, knowing the anxious anticipation of waiting to see you all day, let alone see you in your wedding dress at the other end of the aisle, was enough to already have his heart beating a million miles a minute at the ripe hours of the morning.

While he should have known better his Dad would already be well awake by the time he snuck back home, Chucho’s welcoming grin from the front porch was already laced with enough forgiveness for Javi to hope he’d be spared at least some shit from his father.

“”Morning, mijo.” Chucho chuckled, watching Javi’s sheepish stride up the driveway towards the house, slowly sipping on his cup of coffee with a boyish grin on his face, knowing damn well where his son had been without having to say a word.

“I already know what you’re gonna say, Pops.” Javi sighed, shaking his head in embarrassment as he approached his dad, letting out a soft grunt as he took a seat next to his father on the top step of the front porch.

“I haven’t said anything, Javier. Do you have something you want to say?” Chucho couldn’t help but snicker, raising his eyebrows at his son, as he watched his cheeks turn a petrified pink.

“Nope, I am- oh, fuck me- nope I am, uh, all good.” Javi stammered, burying his hands in his face before running them through the sleepy curls of his hair and over the nape of his neck, his eyes still peeled to the ground, avoiding Chucho’s smug grin.

“Then all I have to say is,” Cucho paused, taking another swig of coffee, “I hope you never stop loving her the way that you do now.” Javi looked up at his dad in confusion, wondering how his sneaking out wasn’t shaping up to be some sort of teenage scolding from his father. “I already know that you know you are a very, very lucky man Javier, but I also hope that you know you are going to make a wonderful husband. Eres un buen hombre. Estoy muy feliz por ti, mijo. Tu madre también lo estaría. Muy feliz.” (You are a good man. I am so happy for you, son. Your mom would be, too. So happy.)

Letting his eyes shift off his feet where they had been stuck, Javi looked back up at his father, tears welling in his eyes at Chucho’s reassuring smile, reaching out to wrap his arm around his son, pulling him close enough to let Javi’s head fall on his shoulder, the two sitting for a quiet moment in silence.

Javi couldn’t help but feel a twinge in his heart, thinking about the fact his mom wouldn’t be with him for the biggest day of his life. His mother had left this world when Javi was at his lowest- alone and halfway across the globe, fighting for a cause he wasn’t even sure he believed in. It had always haunted him that his mom had died worried that her son had become a broken man, and would never be proud of the person he’d turned out to be. When he returned home, he felt even worse thinking that his one living parent probably felt that way, too.

But what brought him solace in a time that he needed it most, was you. You had given him a reason to make his parents proud, to make himself proud. While his mom would never be able to tell him the words he so desperately longed to hear, he knew in his heart that the life he’d built because of you was all the comfort he needed to prove to himself Lucia was smiling down on him when he needed it most. And as he looked up at the sky, the pink and orange rays of the beautiful sunrise beginning to spill over the horizon, he had never been more sure that even though his mom couldn’t physically be by his side, that Lucia Peña would still be with him every step of the way.

“Fuck, I miss her, Pops. I wish she was here.”

“She is, Javier. She always will be.”

After soaking in a few more quiet moments together staring out into the shimmering sunrise, Chucho let out a content sigh, giving Javi a gentle pat on the back and rustling the dark curls of his son’s thick hair.

“But, if there is one thing I know about your Mother, it’s that I can practically hear her screeching at us wasting our time being sad about her on the happiest day of your life. Chucho, por qué piedres el tiempo estar triste? Basta de quejarte! Nuestro hijo se está casando, pendejo!” (Why are you wasting your time being sad! Stop moping! Our son is getting married, stupid.) Chucho mocked, shaking his head at the sky at the scolding he knew he’d be getting from his wife, making him and Javi burst into laughter. “And, if there’s another thing I know about your mother,” Chucho paused again, letting out a loud grunt as he pushed himself up to stand, resting his arm on Javi’s shoulder, “it’s that her and I would both agree there better be a nieto (grandchild) in our lives 9 months from now. Dios mío (oh my God), Javier, even on the night before your wedding you two can’t keep your hands to yourselves! I am truly surprised I don’t have 14 grandchildren already.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Pops….” Javi whispered to himself over his dad’s schoolgirl snickers, watching his son’s face fall flush once again, standing up to follow behind his dad back inside as Chuhco began to waddle his way across the porch.

Although Javi could have tried to plead his case to his dad to prove his innocence, truth be told, today, he really didn’t care. Today, the only thing he cared about was that in just a few short hours, he got to meet you, his wife, at the end of the aisle and spend his forever with the woman he loved more than life itself. For the first time in his life, Javier Peña couldn’t have been more excited for a wedding.

You weren’t sure how many more times you had read the scratchy print scribbled across the bright yellow post-it Javi had left behind on his pillow before he had snuck out for the morning, but you did know that your heart beat faster and faster in anxious anticipation with every glance over his words, counting down the second until you got to see him again.

You had kept yourself in your room, convinced that your excited impatience would have you awake well before everyone else still sleeping at the ranch, but as you heard clanging and bickering starting to echo from the kitchen, you should have known better that your mom and Connie would be up to something to kick start your wedding day.

With a yawn and stretch of your arms above your head, you flopped yourself out of bed, exchanging Javi’s worn t-shirt and sleep shorts for the white pajama set your mom had insisted she buy for you to get ready in as a compromise for your adamant despise at the white silky robe that had “bride” stitched across it in big pink letters that she had begged to buy you.

Shuffling down the hallway, the commotion in the kitchen only became increasingly louder, now realizing almost everyone must be awake for whatever antics were taking place for the early hours of the morning. As you turned the corner, you were greeted by an adorable “Happy Wedding Day!” banner that had been made by the girls hanging on the wall, decorated with adorable crayon drawings of flowers, you and Javi, and all of the horses of the Peña ranch dressed in wedding apparel. As your eyes scanned across the rest of the room, the kitchen table was already full of breakfast, balloons dangled from the ceiling, and your mom and Connie were actively working on filling up what was most likely one too many glasses of mimosas.

“Happy wedding day, Auntie Bear!” A little voice cooed behind you, looking down to see a still very sleepy Olivia, hair still crazed and bed ridden as she wrapped herself around your hip, squeezing you in a tight hug.

“Ahhhhh, there’s the bride!!” Your mom shrieked, her pitch enough to make everyone in the room wince as she barreled towards you, joining Olivia to engulf you in her grasp. After everyone had recovered from your mom’s shrill greeting, everyone else had soon joined in on squeezing you in a giant group hug, the gesture in itself making you smile, but the physical restraint in the middle of a human sandwich being a little too much for you this early in the morning.

“Thanks guys. I uh, I would like to make it out alive for my wedding so maybe if we don’t squish me to death, that would be great.” You grunted, trying to wriggle out of the arms squishing your body, hoping that someone would get the hint.

“Alright, I think she’s probably had enough.” Connie laughed, finally noticing the look on your face, prompting everyone to give you at least a little breathing room.

“I’m just so excited for you! I can’t believe you’re getting married, sweetie!” Your mom, clearly not picking up on the hint, was now back to squeezing you in a bear hug again tight enough to make your eyes pop out of your head. “Okay, sorry, sorry, I’m done now, just had to get one last one out of my system… for now. Here, have a seat, honey,” Your mom gestured towards the kitchen table, pulling out a chair for you to sit in, “we have about an hour before we have to start doing hair and makeup but we have plenty of breakfast for you to choose from before we get the day started. How’d you sleep?”

“Oh, um- fine, I um, I slept fine.” You lied, now sheepishly staring down at the overflowing plate of breakfast food your mom had set in front of you, taking a hefty bite of pancake before looking back up, your eyes meeting Connie’s, a suspicious smirk gleaming on her face as she stared at you, crossing your arms over your chest as you swallowed your food with a more audible than intended gulp.

“Oh good!” Your mom replied, obvious to yours and Connie’s silent interaction as she meandered around the kitchen. “Well, eat up, I’m off to go check on some things outside, but by the time I get back in here, that plate better be cleared! Girls, come help Grandma, let your Aunt finish her breakfast!”

“Okay!” Your nieces giggled, following behind your mom into the backyard, leaving you and Connie alone in the kitchen, hearing her silently laugh to herself as she sat down next to you at the table.

“Good sleep, huh? Good sleep that definitely had nothing to do with Javi’s truck that left here at 6:00 AM this morning?” Connie snickered, giving you a little wink as your cheeks turned pink with embarrassment, letting out a defeated sigh.

“I promise it’s not what you think. I actually couldn’t sleep and I called Javi and he ended up coming over so I wouldn’t be up the whole night. I told him he didn’t have to, but I was up and stressed and having him here was the only thing that was going to help. It was just sleep, I promise.”

“It’s okay, I believe you. I couldn’t sleep the night before my wedding either. I’m pretty sure if I did what you had done, Steve would have slept right through the phone call, or still would have been too drunk to drive over.” The two of you quietly giggled to yourselves as Connie reached out for your hand, holding it in hers, “I hope you know that he loves you so much. It always broke my heart to see Javi go through what he did, and how hard on himself he was because of it. You really are the best thing that could have ever happened to him. I’m so happy for the two of you, I couldn’t be more excited for today, honey.”

Reaching across the table, Connie wrapped her arms around you, squeezing you in another hug, trying to hold back your sniffles as you felt happy tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“Thank you, Connie.”

“Of course. Now, you better pick what you want from that breakfast and throw away the rest before your mom gets back, I don’t think either one of us wants to be responsible for telling her that her food wasn’t sufficient enough for you.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes at the thought of the dismay your mom would be in thinking that you didn’t get enough to eat before your big day as you put a reasonable amount of breakfast on a new plate to eat, discarding the other heaping pile that your mom had left you.

“You are a smart woman, Connie Murphy.”

“So I’ve been told.”

The rest of the morning seemed to move by at an exponential pace- At the Pena ranch, hair and makeup was well underway for everyone, and running on time with incredible efficiency from the detailed schedule that your mom and Connie had put together. Even though your body was riddled with endless amounts of anxious anticipation and excitement as the clock ticked closer and closer to when Javi and the rest of the boys would finally get here, you were pleasantly surprised at how fun the morning had ended up being with all the girls, especially since your nieces and the Murphy girls had insisted on putting on a hilarious sing along spectacular for the majority of the time for entertainment while you got ready.

Over at your new house, however, with the only getting ready that Javi needed to do being taking a shower and putting on his suit, the boys were convinced that he was going to put a hole in the floor from his anxious pacing as he counted down the minutes to leave.

“Jav, have a beer, man, you just put this floor in, I think your wife’s gonna be pissed when she finds out she has to replace it before y’all even move in because you can’t sit still.” Steve chuckled, taking a sip out of his can before nudging your brothers sitting next to him on the couch as they watched their friend and future brother in law tread back and forth across the living room for what felt like the 117th time since they’d sat down.

“I think I have to agree with Steve on this one, Javier, you are making me anxious and I’m not even the one getting married.” Chucho chimed in from the armchair seated next to the couch.

“I’ll second what Steve said, man. Have a beer, Javi. You haven’t shut up all day about how fuckin’ excited you are, so what’s got you so worked up? You’ve seen her in a dress before dude, this one’s just white.” Your brother David snorted, his joke now soliciting some eye rolls from the rest of the boys, considering David was about single as they came, and was the only one of the group who wasn’t even remotely close to being married.

“It’s a fucking wedding dress, you dingus, there’s obviously a difference.” Your dad groaned, walking up to your brother to give him a prompt smack in the back of the head, making your other brother Charlie snicker to himself, until he also decided to greet him with an equally harsh slap for good measure.

“What the fuck was that for? I didn’t say anything!” Charlie winced, holding his hands up in defense.

“Tell your brother to stop being an ass! She’s your sister too, for Christ’s Sake, you’re not gonna stand up for her either?! Jesus you two are the biggest idiots I’ve ever met. Even Patrick would have had enough common sense to keep that one in his head. Well, maybe not, but that’s besides the point.” That one at least cracked a little smile from your brothers, wishing that Patrick would have been here to see their sister’s big day, and to distribute the slapping pain more equally between the pair.

“I just… Fuck, I just wanna see her. I can’t wait to see her. I’ve never wanted anything so bad in my whole life. The suspense is fucking killing me.” Javi signed, resting one hand on his hip before running his hand through his hair, anxiously drumming his fingers on his side, foot tapping on the well worn path he had been treading on the hardwood floor of the living room.

Chucho chuckled, resting his hands on his knees and pushing himself up to stand with a low grunt, making his way over to his son, resting his hand on his shoulder as he looked up at him. “Eres como tu madre.. Impaciente. (You are just like your mother… Impatient). Mijo, I remember when I married your mother, she was so excited that she actually asked if we could start the wedding an hour early, just so we could see each other sooner. I can almost hear her laughing at the fact that her son is no better than her. How I wish she were here to see this. Soon, Javier. I promise.”

“Do you think she’s gonna like the gift? You made sure she has it for today, right? And everything from her brothers too?” Javi asked, nervously biting at the tip of his thumb as he glanced down at his father before looking over at David and Charlie sitting on the couch, smiling back at him.

“Yes, Javier. I triple checked last night. I’m sure that she will love it. I know she will love it. All of it. Now, why don’t you go put on your suit and we can leave a little ahead of schedule, I will just make sure to drive extra slow. Even slower than normal. I think if we wait any longer you may actually combust.” He teased, pulling Javi into a tight hug before releasing him, giving him a gentle pat on the back.

“Alright boys, you heard the man, get your sorry asses moving and let’s get these monkey suits on, it’s time to get this boy married!” David cheered, holding up his beer to toast Javi before promptly chugging the rest of it down his throat and slamming it down on the table, soliciting another round of eye rolls and muffled laughter from the crowd.

Silently nodding and smiling to himself, letting out one last reassuring breath before looking at the boys standing in front of him.

“Fuck. I’m gonna get married.”

Back at the ranch, the last of getting ready was beginning to wrap up, all the girls' hair and makeup finally finished, and the youngest of the crew giddily dancing in their flower girl dresses, twirling and swirling in excitement at their pristine outfits as they gathered around you, patiently awaiting for you to get into your own wedding dress.

For as long as you’d wanted to get married, you’d always known that you wanted your wedding dress to be simple- No excessive frills, poof, glitter, or anything that made you feel like you were playing dress up for the world’s goofiest fashion show, simply because it was your wedding, and your dress needed to reflect the extravagance of the event. Your style choice came as a surprise to no one, given the fact you had practically lived in your brother’s hand-me-down’s until the 8th grade, and even when your mom had flown down a few months ago to go dress shopping with you and Connie, she had even laid down the hammer with one of the wedding dress consultants that you wouldn’t even step anywhere near a dress that was an ounce too over the top.

That’s why you were absolutely shocked that despite your firm parameters around what you wanted to wear for your big day, that you fell in love with the very first dress you tried on, and never looked back.

It was everything you wanted and never you needed in a dress- a simple a-line skirt with thin straps that ran across your shoulders and scooped down your back, along with a delicate, lacy floral pattern stitched across your top that flowed down the wispy length of your gown. There were few times that you had ever admitted it to yourself, but you had truly never felt more beautiful than when you were wearing that dress, and when you had tried it on for the first time, only to turn around to see the tears welling in your mom and Connie’s eyes as you revealed it to them, it was every confirmation that you needed that this dress was made for you.

And while you had been counting down the days in excitement, waiting to put your dress on for your big day, Javi had been counting down along with you, to the point where Connie had made the executive decision to keep the dress at her house to prevent any preemptive peeking, considering that Javi had spent every day since you had bought your dress telling you how he couldn’t wait to see how beautiful you were going to look in it, without even knowing a single clue about what you had boughten, besides your lovingly sarcastic and vague “It’s a dress, and it’s white, Jav.”

But after all the time you had spent imagining what it would be like to finally put your dress on for your actual wedding day, you almost couldn’t believe that you were finally here, carefully taking the straps off the hanger where it had been resting, holding the beautiful, white fabric out in front of you with a goofy grin spread across your face, eyeing down the outfit that meant you got to spend forever with your best friend.

“You ready to put it on?” Connie asked softly, her hand resting on your shoulder as she stepped behind you, excitedly gazing at your dress right alongside you.

“Yeah.” You smiled, gently nodding your head as you looked back at Connie, taking one last deep breath before passing off the dress to her before shimmying out of your clothes, letting them fall to a pile on the floor before turning to Connie, stepping into the opening of the dress and carefully pulling each strap over your shoulders while she pulled the zipper along your back, letting out a little sigh of relief as it clasped at the top. With one more long inhale, you slowly turned around to face everyone, eagerly awaiting your reveal, picking up your gown with a little floof as it gently draped around you, meeting the tears and smiles painted across everyone’s faces while they gazed at you.

“Auntie Bear, you look like a princess! Uncle Javi is gonna think that you look like the most beautifulest person he’s ever seen.” Olivia squealed, jumping up and down in excitement before running over to you, wrapping her little arms around your waist in a tight hug.

“Oh sweetheart…. You look absolutely stunning.” Your mom sniffled through her tears, holding her hands crossed over her chest, soaking in your full wedding ensemble.

“You look gorgeous. Like, seriously. I hope you know that Javi’s gonna lose his mind when he sees you in this.” Connie giggled, giving you a wink and a playful nudge, looking you up and down in astonishment.

Stepping over to see yourself in the mirror, your heart skipped a beat to see yourself, your stomach churning with anxious, excited butterflies knowing that you were only getting closer and closer to finally seeing Javi and his reaction, trying your best to not your smirk grow too wide between your warm cheeks, thinking about his reaction.

“You really think he’s gonna like it?” You asked, your eyes still fixed at your reflection in the mirror, gently swaying your lacy, floral skirt back and forth, running your hand against the delicate fabric.

“Honey, I’ve watched that man ogle over you in a hockey jersey. I told the boys they’re in charge of making sure he doesn’t faint when you walk down the aisle.” Your mom teased, Connie nodding her head in agreement.

“I’m gonna second your mom on this one, girl. Steve has a running bet with the guys on how long it takes Javi to cry after he sees you. I think the over/under is 2 seconds, but after seeing you right now, I’m convinced he’s all waterworks from the moment he lays eyes on you.”

Connie’s comment made you laugh to yourself, shaking your head at the idea of Javi instantly bursting into tears from just the sight of you, but when you thought about seeing Javi in his tux (that you had already seen before, multiple times) and what a mess you were going to be, maybe the boy’s betting line didn’t seem so unfair after all.

“Speaking of tears…” Connie smirked at your mom, nodding at her to signify some little secret they seemed to be in on, “There’s one last thing you need to see before… Well, we’ll let you open it up and find out.”

With that, your mom reached over to one of the tables where a white box with a neatly wrapped bow had been hidden, your mom passing it to Connie before then passing it over to you, making you tilt your head in confusion as you took the box in your hands, looking back and forth between your mom, Connie and the box waiting for some sort of explanation.

“What is this?” you questioned, still puzzled as you noticed the gift tag hidden under the bow, gently peeling it open, their suspicious smirks beginning to spread as you read the all too familiar scratchy handwriting inside.

To: Osita

Love: Javi

Now even more confused, you carefully began unwrapping the bow from around the packaging, letting the ribbon fall to the floor, followed by the lid of the box, revealing another longer note from Javi, resting on top of a bed of neatly folded tissue paper. You sat down in one of the chairs close by, letting the box rest on your lap as you held the note in your hands, already beginning to tremble as you felt the tears start to well in your eyes as you began to read.

Osita,

I knew from the moment I met you, that I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. I can’t believe that day is finally here. I hope that this day is everything that you could ever dream it to be.

I hope you know that if I could I would give you everything. The moon, the sun, the stars- if you wanted it, I would give it to you.

But I know that no matter how hard I try, there is one thing I know can’t give to you, and that’s the presence of the people who aren’t with us anymore.

And while I can’t bring back your brother or my mom to be here today, I hope that what’s in this box will remind you that they’ll always be here for you, no matter what.

I know my mom would have wanted you to have this. There’s not a day that goes by that I wish she could have met you. She would have loved you so much. I hope she knows that you’re the best thing that could have ever happened to me.

Your family was able to find something of your brother’s for you to have on here too- I wish I could have met him. I hope he knows how much I love you, and the beautiful and resilient woman you’ve become. I hope he knows how proud I am of you.

I can’t wait to see you, amor. I can’t even imagine how beautiful you look right now. I’m the luckiest man in the world.

I love you more than words, and I promise I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life making sure you know it.

Happy Wedding Day, Osita. Soy tuyo para siempre (I’m yours forever).

-J

You could feel your heart practically exploding after reading what Javi had wrote for you, wiping away the wetness from your cheeks, you took a deep breath as you carefully set down his note next to you before ever so slowly peeling back the layers of tissue paper folded on top of one another, hiding the gift hidden beneath them. As the last layer of the delicate paper was shed, you let out a gasp, you hand covering your mouth in shock as you put together the pieces of Javi’s note and the present now sitting in your lap, looking up at everyone else in the room, nodding back at you with sympathetic smiles and tears in their eyes at your realization.

Not only had Javi had given you his mother’s wedding veil to wear, but stitched in the bottom corner was a patch of Patrick’s old hockey jerseys, a small number 2 from his arm sleeve, the number he had worn for every jersey he had ever played in.

“Oh my… Oh my god? I can’t, I- how did you- oh my god.” You whispered to yourself, your voice trembling in disbelief, tears now streaming down your face as you held the veil in your hands, your thumb gently tracing over the worn patch of Patrick’s jersey, truly too stunned to speak at what Javi had done for you, to make sure a piece of two people who were no longer with you could still be a part of the biggest day of your life.

“Can I put it on?” Your mom asked, smiling at you with tears in her eyes, walking towards you as you nodded, handing her over the veil as she gently nestled it into your hair, straightening it out behind you, even more tears streaming down her face while she watched your reaction in the mirror.

Not only was Lucia’s veil absolutely beautiful, if you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought Javi had asked someone to see what your dress looked like to pick out a veil that matched it perfectly. Like it truly was meant to be.

Still too shocked to form any sort of coherent thought, you stared at yourself in the mirror, silently smiling and crying at your reflection until a soft knock came from outside the bedroom door, making everyone in the room whip their heads around to see all of the boys who had just arrived peeking through the door frame, waiting in anticipation.

“Can we come in? We’re dyin’ to see you, Cubby. Well, the one who’s dyin to see you the most we banished to the outside so he wasn’t even tempted to come in, but the rest of us fools still wanna see you too.” Your dad’s voice chuckled from behind the door, making you break from your crying just enough to let a soft laugh escape from your chest, nodding your head as you turned around to greet the gang gathered at the door.

Growing up the youngest of 3 brothers, sentimental wasn’t a term thrown around in your household very often. Of course you loved your family, and they loved you, but you and your brothers had often joked that it’d probably be easier to projectile vomit than to actually say the words “I love you” eachother. So that’s why when your dad and brothers walked through the door with awestruck looks on their faces, you couldn’t help but start crying even more.

Well, until they actually got a chance to speak.

“Don’t cry you dingus, you’re gonna mess up all your makeup. And god knows how long it took to try and make you look like you didn’t just crawl out of a garbage can.” David quietly snickered, pulling you in for a much gentler than usual headlock before wrapping his arms around you for a legitimate hug.

“Fuck off, David. How many people had to help you put that suit on, huh? You use every last brain cell trying to do up those buttons?” You teased back, trying to wipe the tears that had been rolling down your cheeks before giving him a loving slap to the stomach, making the two of you laugh even more.

“You know his dumbass needed all the help he could get.” Charlie joked, pulling you in for another hug before stepping back to look you up and down, “Not too shabby. You clean up good, Cubby.”

“Thanks Charlie.”

The last one to step towards you was your dad, who you could tell was trying with everything in him not to absolutely burst into tears, putting one hand on your shoulder as he smiled at you. “I’ll say it once and I won’t say it again because you know as well as I do I’m not good with the sappy shit. You look beautiful, Cubby. I’m so proud of you. I know Patrick would have been too. Although that motherfucker is probably pissed at us that we cut the number off of his favorite jersey, but I think he’ll forgive us.” Wrapping you in a tight squeeze, your dad engulfed you in a bear hug, quickly followed by your brothers and your mom, trapping you in the center of their bodies, knowing you all were wishing there was one more person there in your group to fill in your hug.

“I love you guys. Thank you.” You whispered, just loud enough to make sure they could hear, but quiet enough that even though your brothers had heard it, just this once, they wouldn’t give you shit for it. And just this once, everyone seemed to silently agree that they really, truly, did love you too.

After a few more seconds of your group hug, there was another soft knock on the door, followed by another familiar voice, Chucho and Steve now peeking through the doorway to say hello.

“Is it okay if we come in, Mija?” Chuco asked, already halfway through the door in excitement.

“Yes, of course.” You sniffed, breaking free from the middle of your group hug to greet Chucho, less than shocked that his hug was almost tighter than the 4 other members of your family combined.

“Mija… Mija, you look so beautiful. Oh, goodness. I had always saved this veil one day, just in case. And even though it sat in the attic for years, I pulled it out the week that Javier first met you. I don’t think that there was ever a doubt in anyone’s mind that you weren’t the one for him. My sweet Lucia would have been so happy to know that you have given Javier everything he never thought that he deserved. Oh, how I wish with everything she could have been here today to see how happy you make him. But I hope that you know, she would have been so excited that you get to be a part of our family.” He grinned through his tears, stepping back to look at you with a soft smile on his face, gently reaching up to wipe away the wetness on your cheek before pulling you back in for another hug. “I hope you know that Javier is going to be a wreck when he sees you. Poor boy has been in shambles all day waiting to see you.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man this anxious. And that’s sayin’ somethin’.” Steve chimed in, laughing to himself. “You look great, sweetheart. Chucho’s right, Javi’s ‘bout to be a goddamn mess.”

As if your heart couldn’t feel any fuller from all of the love and warmth overflowing into the room, you had almost forgotten about the one person that had brought you all together in the first place- Javi.

You could feel the pace of your heart begin to race, your stomach swirling in anticipation as the reality of the situation slowly began to sink in.

Your future husband was here, and there was nothing more in the world that you wanted than to see him. Not soon, not at the end of the aisle, not waiting for you at the altar, right this very second.

“He’s here, right? Javi?” You asked, biting down on your lip to contain the stupid grin growing between your cheeks, swaying back and forth on your heels in childlike impatience. Before you could barely ask your question, all eyes in the room were on your, giving you a collective look that seemed to scream “Seriously? You can’t wait either?” without having to say a word.

As you could hear the beginning rumblings of protest, David stepped in as the most unexpected voice of reason, holding his hands up to the crowd in your defense, trying to silence everyone’s potential disagreement for what you were about to suggest.

“Listen… Y’all know as well as I do that we could hold back these two with iron restraints, and they’d still probably find a way to see each other before the ceremony. And to be quite honest, I am pretty convinced if we don’t let them, one of them is gonna fucking combust, and I am not willing to be held personally responsible for any damages done before you two idiots can even get married.”

Giving you a silent nod of approval, David stepped back to pat your back with the loving force that only a brother could, as everyone else in the room seemed to very quickly agree with his sentiment, joining with head bobs of quiet agreement.

“I’ll go let the big man know you’re comin’. Gotta find some way to redeem myself before I bust his balls in my speech later.” Steve snickered, giving you a quick wink before quickly disappearing out the door to find the man behind it, waiting half as patiently as you.

To say that Javi was disappointed when the boys booted him to the outdoors while everyone else got to go in and see you was the understatement of the year. Even though he couldn’t have been sitting on the front porch of his childhood home for more than 10 minutes, it felt like he had been waiting for hours, counting down each second until the moment he finally got to lay his eyes on you. After about 2 minutes of sitting in his dad’s rocking chair, nervously swaying as his hands shifted between his fingers drumming on his legs and balling up in anxious fists, he pushed himself up to stand, walking off the steps of the porch to pace in the front yard under the warmth of the late June sun.

He had been so preoccupied as he meandered the front of the home, picturing just how breathtaking you would look as you walked down the aisle to greet him- how gorgeous you would be in your dress, your hair, your stunning smile, everything about you that made him look at you and know that he was the luckiest man in the world. That you were his. That you were everything that made him feel like home. It wasn’t until after a few careless steps too far around the corner of the house, that Javi was catching himself from tumbling to the ground as he tripped over a larger than suspected rock underneath him, quietly cursing under his breath while he tried to steady himself, peering down at the ground to see what had almost caused his fall. And when he finally read the words etched into the round stone beneath him, he couldn’t help but laugh at the fact the thing resting below him was none other than the heading that read “Lucia’s Garden”.

“Jesus Christ, Ma, you’re not even here and you’re gonna take me out before the wedding even happens.” Javi chuckled to himself, gently tapping his foot against the rock, staring at the worn and weathered letters of her name. “You know, the very first time Pops met her, he let her work on the garden. I couldn’t believe it, because he barely lets me within 10 feet of here without worrying I’m gonna ruin something. But uh, I think that he knew. I think before he even met her, he already knew that she was the one.”

Letting out a soft sigh, Javi crouched down, squatting next to the stone, gently brushing his thumb across the grittiness, carefully tracing each letter back and forth, praying with every ounce of him that one way or another, she could hear what he had to say.

“I really wish you could be here, Mom. I really miss you. I really wish she could have gotten to meet you. I know that you’d love her.” Javi paused, his eyes beginning to well with tears, letting out a long, shaky exhale to try and compose himself. “She’s so good to me. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve her. She’s made me a better man. A man that I’m proud of. A man I hope you’d be proud of, too.” He paused again, pinching the bridge of his nose before wiping his wet cheeks with the back of his hand. “I know that uh- I know before, um you were gone, that you really worried about me. I know you’d never say it, but um, I could tell. And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Mom.” His voice was now barely above a whisper, years of guilt and anger bubbling in his chest for the person he’d been, the life his mother had lived to see him play out while halfway across the world, fighting for a cause he wasn’t even sure he believed in anymore.

“But, I um- I just- fuck, I just want you to know that I’m okay. I’m more than okay, now. This is the happiest I’ve ever been, all because of her. We’re gonna build a house, we’re gonna have kids, we’re gonna be so happy, Mom. So fucking happy. Te amo mucho, Mama. Siempre lo hare (I love you so much, Mama. I always will).”

So focused on the quiet conversation with the simple stone sitting beneath him, Javi hadn’t even heard Steve’s hurried footsteps creeping up behind him, making Javi practically jump out of his skin as Steve’s hand met his shoulder.

“Hey, buddy. You ready to-”

“Jesus, fuck Murph. You scared the fucking shit out of me.” Javi gasped, thoroughly startled as he shot to his feet, quickly trying to wipe the tears from his face as he faced his friend.

“Sorry, man, I didn’t mean to, promise!” Steve laughed, holding his hands up in defense before letting his expression shift to concern at Javi’s face. “Hey, you okay, Jav?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m- No, I’m good, sorry. Just um- Just wish my mom could have been here for this, ya know? She would have really fucking loved her.”

“Hey, it’s okay, man. My dad was gone before my wedding, too. Fuckin’ sucks.” Steve smiled sympathetically, “Truth be told Jav, that girl you’re gonna marry, I think it’s hard for anyone not to love her. Your mom would be really happy for ya.”

“Thanks, Murph.” Javi huffed, a small smile spreading across his face at Steve’s genuine sympathy, a trait he didn’t see very often.

“C’mere, buddy.” Without giving him a choice, Steve wrapped his arms around Javi, pulling him in for a hug with a few stiff pats on the back before pulling away with a nod, hands on his hips as he stared down his friend with a shit eating grin, knowing the news he was about to tell Javi would instantly turn his mood around. “Speakin’ of your future wife… You wanna see her?”

“Wait, like, now? Like, actually?” Javi’s mood instantly shifted, his entire body lighting up at the prospect, looking at Steve with relief glistening in his dark brown eyes.

“Yeah, actually. Thank God your wife is just as obsessed with you as you are with her. Jesus Christ, I think the both of ya would have fuckin’ exploded if we made you wait ‘till the ceremony.” Steve chuckled, grabbing Javi’s shoulder and giving it a playful shake. “Alright, you turn around so it’s a surprise when she gets out here, lemme go get her. And Jav?” Steve asked, turning his head back over his shoulder to look at his friend as he began to walk away back towards the house.

“Yeah, Murph?”

“You’re losin’ that bet. No way in fuckin’ hell you ain’t sobbin’ like a baby the second you lay eyes on her.”

As Steve disappeared back into the house, Javi couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, because as much as he wanted to dish shit back to Steve, he knew his friend was right- He was about to be a fucking mess.

“So? Are we good? Does he wanna see me?” You asked, anxiously waiting at the door, feet tapping on the floor hidden underneath your dress as you waited for Steve’s return.

“No offense, Sweetheart, but that's just about the dumbest question I've ever heard. What do you think? Of course the bastard wants to see you. I’m just gonna warn ya though, that man is a hot mess, and I really think ya just may kill him the second he sees you.” The two of you laughed to yourselves, feeling your heart beat faster and faster in your chest with every passing second, using all of your self restraint to keep from bolting out the door past Steve to see Javi. “Alright, I won’t keep ya any longer, go get ‘em, killer.”

Before you could get yourself out the door, you embraced Steve in a hug, catching him off guard for a moment before he hugged you back, smiles spread across both your faces.

“Thanks, Steve.”

“Sweetheart, you ain’t got nothin’ to thank me for. If anything, hell, I should be thankin’ you. You two lovebirds are a match made in fuckin’ heaven. I was real worried about that old bastard for a long time. Glad to know I don’t have to worry about him anymore. Well, at least too much more. Now, enough about my sorry ass, go see your husband.”

With a silent nod, you gave Steve one more quick hug before you were turning the knob to the front door, quietly stepping out to the front porch to see Javi’s back to you at the bottom of the stairs, already trying to fight the tears welling in your eyes without even seeing his face. As you closed the door behind you, Javi instantly perked up, turning his head back over his shoulder just enough to speak, but not enough to see that it was you who was walking to greet him.

“She good to come out, Murph? I’m fucking dying out here.” Javi laughed, making you giggle at the fact that he had no idea it was you who was standing behind him.

“Hate to break it to you, but unfortunately, I am not Steve. So sorry.” You snickered, practically feeling Javi’s eyes roll at your sarcastic comment, even though the both of you were thankful for a little humor to break the anxious anticipation that had been festering in your stomachs since this morning.

“God, you’re such a dork.” He laughed, his back still turned to you as you took your final steps down the stairs with your dress in hand, trying to fluff it back out as you settled yourself behind him.

“Hey, you’ve got me for the rest of your life, babe. Lucky you. I’m not gonna lie, don’t think I cleaned up half bad, ya know, if you wanna see.” You teased, giving Javi a playful poke on the back as you bit down on your bottom lip, so excited to see Javi’s reaction you truly thought your heart was going to explode out of your chest.

“Baby, you have no fucking idea. C-can I, can I see you?” Javi stammered, his voice already beginning to tremble.

“Well, I think I’m gonna implode if you don’t, so yeah.” You took one last long inhale in, holding your breath as Javi slowly began to turn to face you, feeling like everything was suddenly moving in slow motion when Javi’s eyes finally locked with yours.

Javi couldn’t even get a word out before his hands were covering his mouth, his jaw dropping open in absolute awe to see you standing behind him. The tears he swore to himself he’d try to fight back were already streaming down his face, his eyes looking you up and down over and over again, trying to soak in every ounce of you, only crying harder as he noticed each and every new detail of you standing before him.

“Osita… Oh my god. Oh my god.” Javi’s hand stayed glued over his mouth to try and keep his jaw from dropping any further than it already was, absolutely mesmerized by your beauty, barely able to get out any sort of coherent thought out of his brain. “Baby, you, oh my god, you look so beautiful. You look so fucking beautiful.”

While you figured that Javi would cry and be excited to see you, nothing could have prepared you for the reaction that you were witnessing in real time, watching your future husband become a complete, blubbering mess at the sight of you, making it damn near impossible for you to hold it together yourself, considering the fact that you were also busy trying to take in the ridiculously handsome sight of Javi in his tuxedo- his broad body filling out every inch of the black fabric perfectly, hair and mustache impeccably groomed, and sweet, teary brown eyes sparkling in the sunlight, making you melt, tears rolling down your face as your heart bursted at the seams over and over again, wondering how in the world this wasn’t all some sort of a perfect dream.

“You like it?” You managed to choke out through your happy sobs, your cheeks straining from the stupid grin that had spread across your face, the both of you radiating in the blissful glow of your excitement.

“Like it? Osita, are you fucking kidding me? Do I like it? Holy shit, baby, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You look... Osita, you look incredible.” Javi laughed through his tears, taking another step back to grab your hand, looking you up and down again before holding your arms up to twirl you in a circle, your dress flowing around you, making you giggle as you finally finished rotating to lock eyes with Javi again. “Hermosa, I knew you were gonna look amazing, but I- I never, I never could have imagined that you were gonna look like this.”

“Coming from you? Jesus, Jav, I’m convinced you’re trying to kill me in that tux before we can even get married. You look so good. Javi?” You paused, grabbing his other hand so your fingers were intertwined, his thumb automatically tracing soft circles on your skin.

“Yeah, baby?” Javi replied, biting down on his bottom lip as he gulped, trying to hold back the lump resting in his throat from his happy tears as he stared down at you.

“Javi… We’re getting married. We’re getting fucking married.”

“Fuck. We’re getting married. Holy shit.” As if the smile on Javi’s face couldn’t get any wider, his boyish grin gleamed between his cheeks, wrapping his arms around you to engulf you in a tight hug against his chest, the two of you laughing to yourself in disbelief that you had finally made it here- that only a few short moments, the two of you got to begin the rest of your forevers together. “Can I- Can I kiss you?” He asked in a soft whisper, pulling back to tilt his head towards yours, sliding one of his hands up to gently cup your cheek, shifting your gaze up towards him.

“What kind of question is that, you dork?” You teased, bringing your mouth close enough to his to let your lips barely ghost over one anothers, butterflies swarming in a sea of excitement.

“Because I’m afraid if I start kissing you, I’m not gonna be able to stop.”

“Do your worst, Peña.”

As if time began to move in slow motion, your mouths met with an electric and tender intensity, slowly becoming a mix of tangled tongues and teeth, your hand sneaking under the opening of Javi’s suit jacket to wrap around his waist as the grip around your face began to tighten, your bodies melting together as one in a nearly magical moment- Well, as magical as it could get before being interrupted by all your friends and family that had gathered on the front porch to share in the moment with you.

“Hey! Lovebirds! Jesus Christ, save it for the ceremony!” Steve shouted, a chorus of laughter erupting behind him, startling you and Javi.

“Good Lord, Steve, give it a rest. They missed each other!” Connie sighed, shaking her head at her husband’s loud interruption.

“Yeah, that’s our sister, you pervert!” David chimed in, the familiarity of his taunting voice making you roll your eyes, putting your hands on your hips as you stared back at the crowd.

“Will you can it, you dingus? It’s their wedding day for Christ’s sake!” Your dad groaned, slapping David in the back of the head.

“Daddy, what’s a pervert?” Olivia asked, looking over at Charlie as Chucho held her against his hip, grimacing as he tried not to laugh at the exchange.

“Seriously David, really? Grow up! They’re so adorable, let your sister have this.” Your mom scolded, promptly giving him another whack to the stomach, you and Javi now laughing to each other at the scene that was unfolding in front of you on the porch.

“Well,” You giggled, giving Javi a playful nudge, “It seems like everyone else has been able to solve the ‘you not being able to stop kissing me’ problem.”

“Jesus Christ…” Javi sighed to himself, running his hand over his face as he stared back into the crowd watching you and him, “Can we get a few more minutes to ourselves before the ceremony? Please? I haven’t seen her all day.”

“C’mon, let’s give the two some privacy. Lindas (cuties), why don’t we go look to make sure all the flowers are ready. Maybe we can practice walking down the aisle again?” Cucho smiled at the two of you, giving Javi a subtle wink as the girls began to giggle with delight, racing off to the backyard in a fit of squeals of excitement.

“We’ll do another check of everything, too, I wanna make sure everything’s in place before the ceremony. Do you mind helping, Connie? Boys, will you go check to make sure all the food and drinks are ready for cocktail hour” Your mom asked, picking up on Chucho’s hint to give the two of you some space, now trying to rope your dad, brothers and Steve into that equation as well.

“Can I have a beer if I help?”

“Jesus Christ, David.”

Everyone's conversations began to trail as they headed their separate ways, leaving you and Javi standing in the front yard alone, once again, looking at each other with mischievous grins- Yours from knowing damn well that Javi had something up his sleeve, and Javi’s from the something stored up there.

“What’s that look for, Jav?” You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at Javi as you waited for him to let you in on whatever plan he had brewing in his brain.

“I think… I think that I really have to go to the bathroom.” Javi replied, boyish grin glowing between his cheeks as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest.

“And you’re really making it seem like going to the bathroom is a two person job.” You snickered, rolling your eyes at Javi, knowing exactly what he was implying. “Baby, the ceremony is gonna start in an hour, everyone’s here and I don’t think there’s gonna be enough-”

Before you could finish your thought, Javi was swallowing the rest of your sentence in a long, deep kiss, only pulling away to quietly rasp in your ear.

“Is that a challenge, Osita? I promise I’ll be fast, baby, you just look so fucking beautiful, and I don’t think I’m gonna make it if I can’t have my wife all to myself, even if it’s just for a few minutes. ”

“God, you’re such a drama queen.” You sighed with a snicker, heat creeping in your core knowing that you had just as little self control as Javi did, peeking your head to make sure that everyone had dispersed before they watched you and Javi sneak inside together. “We have to be quick, okay? I just don’t want-AH! Javi!” You squealed as Javi was scooping you off your feet mid sentence, very fittingly carrying you bridal style across the front yard and up the steps of the porch, nudging the door open with his hip, the two of you all giggles and smiles as he whisked you through the house, stopping at his childhood bedroom, promptly setting you on the ground to shut the door behind him.

With a click of the lock and a rattle of the door handle to make sure they were safe from intruders, Javi’s hands were all over you in an instant, his mouth crashing into yours as he walked you back towards the ensuite attached to his bedroom, hoisting you up onto the kitchen sink as he shut the bathroom door behind him for an extra layer of protection.

You could tell how hard Javi was trying to keep himself in check, considering the amount of time and effort that had gone into your hair and makeup, and the delicacy of your dress, but it was taking every ounce of self control he had to not rip it right off you. Softly letting his kisses trail down your body, Javi began to sink to his knees, smirking up at you with his awestruck gaze as he carefully began to lift up the layers of your dress, running his hands up and down your bare thighs.

“Do you know how fucking beautiful you are, Osita? Fuck, I can’t believe you’re gonna be my wife. My beautiful, amazing, perfect wife.” The hot breath of his words danced against your skin as Javi peppered soft kisses up the inside of your thighs, his head almost disappearing underneath your dress as he creeped closer and closer to your core, already soaked with your arousal waiting for Javi’s touch. “You’re mine forever, Hermosa. Fuck, I’m so lucky. I love you so much.”

“I-I love you too, Javi.” You whined, your breath already shaky as Javi’s fingers hooked around the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down your legs and letting them drop to the floor below you before letting his fingers glide through your folds, already glistening with your arousal.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet, baby. Can’t believe this perfect pussy is all mine forever too. God, you’re so fucking perfect. Everything about you. Mmmm, I know we don’t have a lot of time, but I have to taste you, Hermosa. Can I, baby?” Javi mewled, making you gasp as he gently slid two fingers into your aching core, curling them to bump against the spongy spot inside you that already had you fisting at the edge of the bathroom counter to try and keep your composure, and better yet, your voice down.

“Javi… Oh, shit. Fuck, Fu-ahhhhh.” You moaned, feeling the strong arch of Javi’s nose bumping against your clit, placing a soft kiss there before the flat of his tongue licked a long, broad stroke across your cunt, putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to send the sweet tingling sensation to start building in your spine.

While Javi would have loved to take every second of his sweet time to savor in watching you fall apart on his tongue, he knew just as well as you that he was working on a limited schedule, and wanted, no, needed to make sure he could get you off at least once before his luck ran out.

Javi began to work his tongue against your clit, circling and flicking in fast and firm motions as his fingers curled deeper into your heat, his free hand hooking around your thigh and draping it over his shoulder, digging his fingertips into the meat of your flesh, like he was trying to ground himself more than you.

You could already feel the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten from the way Javi was working so relentlessly to make you come undone, drinking every ounce of you up as, his lips now latching around your sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch and mind go blank while that all too familiar tingle began to creep through your core, cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around Javi’s fingers with every movement of his mouth against you.

“That’s it, mi amor.” Javi cooed, peeking his head out from under you just enough so that his sweet, brown eyes were locked with yours, the hot words of his breath dancing against your pussy as his fingers continued to rock in and out of you. “I’ve got you, Osita. Forever. I’ve always got you. Promento (I promise).”

Before you could respond, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt as each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen

“Fuck, Javi. Oh shit- Baby, I’m so close, I’m so close, I’m so cl-ooohhhhh.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips.

Your heartbeat finally began to slow, your chest heaving in long, heavy breaths as you slumped into Javi, your head resting on his shoulder, shuttering at the loss of Javi’s fingers inside you. He carefully pulled them out, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean with a devilish smirk of satisfaction on his face.

“Tastes so fucking sweet. My wife tastes so fucking sweet. Fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.” Javi chuckled with a boyish grin, gently cupping his hand under your chin as the other wrapped around your waist.

“Get over what? Calling me your wife or eating me out?” You giggled, still trying to catch your breath as you came down from your high, biting down on your lip as your arms draped over Javi’s shoulders, your fingers tracing soft circles at the nape of his neck.

“Both. Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you so much too, you menace.” You smiled, tilting your head back to kiss Javi again, so blissfully lost in the moment, that the two of you both about jumped out of your skin when you heard a loud knock coming from the bedroom door.

“Jav? You in here, buddy?”

“Goddamnit, Murph…”

The familiar twang of Steve’s voice made you freeze in fear, Javi quickly helping you down off the counter as he cursed to himself before the two of you were trying your best to fix yourselves up in the mirror to try and hide any signs of the horny whirlwind that had blown through the bathroom.

“Javi?” Steve called out again, continuing to knock on the door.

“Yeah, I’m here, just uh- Just give me a second, Murph.” Javi sighed, the two of you trying to keep from laughing at your current predicament, wondering how the hell Javi was going to talk you both out of this one.

“What’s the plan, Peña?” You giggled, giving Javi a playful nudge as he carefully turned the knob to the bathroom door.

“To tell Murph to fuck off if he tries to give me shit.” The two of you quietly snorted, feeling a little less guilty than you would have if it wasn’t your wedding day. “You stay here, okay? I’ll take care of him.” He smiled, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek as he opened the door.

“God, I love you.”

“I love you too, Osita.”

Closing the bathroom door behind him, Javi took a few deep breaths as he ran his hands through his hair, turning the knob to open up his bedroom door to be greeted by an unamused Steve leaning in the door frame.

“What’s up, Murph? We were just, uh-” Javi asked, trying his best to stay casual.

“I fuckin’ knew it. Don’t ‘what’s up’ me, you horny bastard.” Steve groaned, rolling his eyes at his friend. “Y’all haven’t even made it to the ceremony yet! Jesus Fuckin’ Christ. Everyone’s been lookin’ for y’all. I had a fuckin’ feeling this is what you two were up two, and as your Best Man, I’ll cover for your ass now, but I sure as shit ain’t doin’ this all night for you two rabbits. Now c’mon, Casanova, go get your wife from in there and come outside. Remember that thing y’all gotta do where you actually go get married?” Steve teased, slapping Javi in the chest before shaking his head at his friend, his cheeks pink in embarrassment as his eyes darted to the floor.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be out in a second.” Javi grumbled sheepishly, quietly accepting defeat.

“An actual second, ya hear? Not a horny Javier Peña second, or I swear to God.” Steve groaned, raising an eyebrow at Javi.

“Promise.”

“Alright then. Chop, chop, Mr. Peña. Let’s go get your ass married.” Steve laughed, grabbing Javi by the shoulder before giving him a little shake and disappearing back down the hallway.

Hearing Steve’s voice and footsteps fade, you slowly peeked your head out of the bathroom door to see Javi standing by himself, head buried in his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning back to see your face, equally embarrassed as his.

“... He knew, didn’t he?” You grimaced, now fully opening the door and walking through to meet Javi on the other side.

“Yup.” Javi sighed, adding an extra emphasis to the “p” with a pop.

“Well… Either Steve has the world’s most unlucky timing, or he just needs to do a better job of minding his business.” The two of you snickered, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared up at Javi. “Or maybe someone needs to stop being such a bad influence.” You teased, poking Javi in the chest.

“Me? I’m the bad influence? Okay.” Javi chuckled, teasing you right back. “Sorry I’m getting married to the hottest woman alive and I can’t help myself. My gorgeous wife is one not making it any easier on me.”

“Still not technically your wife yet, you dork.”

“Close enough.”

Grabbing you by your waist, Javi pulled you flush against chest, tilting his head in for a long, tender kiss- the kind that made heat creep through your cheeks and butterflies churn in your stomach, the kind that made your heart beat a million miles a minute, the kind that seemed to make everything else in the world stand still, even if just for a moment. The kind of kiss that made you know without a single doubt that you had never been more in love than you were at this very moment.

“I love you, Javi.”

“I love you too, Osita.”

“You wanna go get married?”

“Mrs. Peña,” Javi grinned, grabbing your hand to interlock it with his, “There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more in my fucking life.”

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @pedr0swh0r3 @chaotic-iguana

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lixxpix · 7 days

Text

we can't be friends - l.mh

genre: idol!minho x reader, lovers to exes to lovers

tw: angst, hurt, breaking up, erasing of memories (almost) , mutual pining, did i mention angst, reader is kinda depressed, like two kisses ig

status: delivered !

word count: 4.0k

author's note: aaaa omd it's finally done >< reblogs + likes are appreciated!!

lee minho. your muse, your life, your heart.

he broke your heart one stormy sunday night and you hated him as you watched him leave with tears in both of your eyes.

granted, he did break your heart for your own good, to save you from the dangers of being with him. but you didn't care, not when he was your universe, your world. you would gladly take a bullet for him.

just as he would take a bullet for you.

minho knew leaving would break you, just as much as it would break him, but he needed to do it. life as an idol was already dangerous enough with all the death threats and saesangs, but the moment 'fans' caught even the slightest whiff of you they would hunt you down and hurt you, and minho simply couldn't let that happen. he knew you wouldn't care about all the danger as long as you were with him, but he did. minho would never forgive himself if something happened to you all because he had given in to his innermost wants and kept you by his side.

so he left.

november 8th, 2019, 8.46 pm.

"i want to break up." he said, one sunday night. the rain was pouring outside, flashes of thunder and lightning ringing through the sky occasionally. in the quiet and comfort of your shared apartment, with the dim glow of lamps illuminating your features, in that moment, for a split second, minho wanted to stay. he wanted to pretend everything was alright, to have you stay by his side and be happy together, but he knew he shouldn't. the two of you were eating dinner, sitting at the small round dining table in your kitchen tucking into your homemade kimchi stew. god, he would miss your kimchi stew, he thought miserably.

"what?" your world felt like it had stopped, your hand frozen in place as you slowly tilted your head to look at your boyfriend sitting across from you.

"i... want to break up." he repeated robotically.

"minho, where is this coming from? did i do something wrong? please... just talk to me," you begged, panic starting to flood your mind as tears threatened to spill over. you couldn't believe what he had just said. the both of you had been perfectly fine before, the both of you were happy, why was he doing this? were you not good enough for him? did he fall in love with someone else? the thought alone made you weak.

"i just... it's for the best. i'm putting you in danger every day, fans will hurt you if they find out i'm with you. i can't let that happen."

"i don't care if they try to hurt me, minho. as long as i'm with you, it’s- " you reached for his hand, and could feel your heart finally sinking to the bottom as you saw his face, screwed into an expression of hurt and resignation as he shook his head.

"just... don't forget me in the future, okay?" before you could say anything, minho was already out of his seat, grabbing his coat and his phone, already reaching for the front door.

"wait! minho-" you jumped out of your seat in alarm and desperation, clinging to his arm as he looked back at you with a pained expression.

"please- we can work this out, just don't leave me," you pleaded, tears already cascading down your face. you must've looked a pathetic mess in that moment, sniffling and sobbing, yet minho still thought you were the most beautiful person to ever exist as he memorised your face for one last time.

finally, minho turned around, cupping your face in his hands. your hands reached up to hold his, as he memorised your every detail for the last time. minho's lips found their way to your forehead, then the corner of your eyes, then your lips as he kissed you tenderly for the last time as you sobbed in his arms.

"i'm sorry." he whispered, before pushing you back as you cried out and stumbled backwards, opening the door, walking out of the apartment and out of your life.

december 25th, 2019, 11.28 pm.

your diary.

i still think of you, you know. i still see your face in the windows of that cafe shop we used to go to whenever i pass by. i know you're not in there, and i'm hallucinating. i can't go in there anymore, not without thinking of you. i can't even watch the television anymore without having to see your face. listened to your new comeback. that song was about me, wasn't it?

it's christmas now. i adopted some presents for you. you would love them, the three cats. i named them soongie, doongie, and dori. quite fitting, they're playful like you. they'll never meet their father. i still wore your hoodie, the green one i always wore every christmas. you used to wear my red hoodie, but i guess you won't be here to wear it anymore. it still smells like you.

i still wonder why you left. was such a pathetic excuse as me potentially being hurt the only reason why you would leave me? you knew i didn't care if i was hurt, so long as i was with you. you still left. i hate you for that, but deep down i could never hate you. i still love you.

january 7th, 2020, 2.35 pm.

you strolled down the busy streets of seoul, a long oversized fluffy coat resting on your shoulders and your nose pink from the cold. a sigh of relief escaped your lips when you finally stepped foot into the cozy ambience of a random cafe alongside the road, the warm air blowing gently at you helping to relieve the coldness settling into your bones. ordering a latte and a small cake which were promptly delivered to your table, you settled down to scroll through the news.

new technology developed, scientists say new machinery can effectively target and erase memories of specific people and objects. is now being offered at multiple mental health clinics nationwide at a low cost, guaranteed 90% success rate. for sign-ups and further information, please contact...

you raised your eyebrows at the news, marvelling slightly at how advanced technology seemed to be developing at this rate. thinking nothing of it, you simply continued scrolling.

january 7th, 2020, 12.02 pm.

you sighed as you flopped onto your bed, tired from a day of work and countless emails sent. feeling a warm, soft head poke it's way under your arm, you smiled softly, hand reaching out to scratch doongie's head as he meowed in content. smiling softly, you felt two large lumps jump onto your bed and settle on you, soongie choosing to settle on your feet and dori choosing to burrow his way under you arm as you giggled.

"soongie, you're so heavy," you laughing light-heartedly as your oldest cat let out a 'meow' of indignation at your words.

minho would love the cats so much...

your smile drooped, feeling that warm familiar sensation pricking at your eyes again.

god, how stupid. it had been two months already and you were still hung up on him. everywhere you went, you saw his face, on advertisments at the bus stop, billboards in the shopping districts, to even advertisments on youtube, and every single time your old memories with minho would surface and you would miss him again.

memories...

oh. the news of the memory erasure experiment.

would it hurt to try? you tried imagining forgetting minho. for him to just be another face on the billboard, a random k-pop idol to you. to forget you had ever even loved him and forget that he ever loved you. the pain would be gone. your heart would no longer ache each day, you would no longer think of him and he would no longer cloud your mind.

picking up your phone, your finger hovered above the 'call' button.

"hello? this is the seoul medical psychiatry clinic speaking. how may i help you?"

"i..." you paused, gnawing at your bottom lip.

"i would like to make an appointment."

january 19th, 2020, 1.28 pm.

"welcome! do you have a booked appointment?" the receptionist greeted cheerfully as you stepped into the reception and seating area of the clinic, a large box full of items in your hands. the hallways were filled with posters and quotes, the beanbags and seats painted in warm and soothing colours.

"yes, doctor kim at 1.35pm." you answered, watching as the receptionist typed a few words into her computer.

"ah yes, under the name yoon y/n, right?" she clicked her tongue, "for... memory erasure?" she glanced at you with a look full of sympathy, as if you were some lost wounded puppy.

"yes." you confirmed, lips pursing together slightly as you stared down at the box.

"good, and you've got your box of items already. do double check to make sure they are linked to that specific person only, we wouldn't want any erasure of other memories woth different people."

you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"yeah, i have."

"great, we'll be calling for you later, the doctor will run you through the procedure and then the operation will commence. take a seat first," she gestured to the seating area. not long after, you heard your name.

"yoon y/n?"

you hurriedly stood up, making your way towards the nurse and following her into the operation room. the operation room was white and cold, lacking any warmth and colour, filled with odd looking machinery and lab coats and tools. you were sat down on a chair, and your box of items given to the nurse who began taking them out one by one while another nurse attached a few wires to your skin to a machine on the right which measured your heart rate, a steady thump-thump-thump. the first nurse began to place your items in a row, scanning each one under a machine.

beep.

minho's green hoodie.

beep.

the snow globe the both of you had bought together at a winter festival.

beep.

polariods of you and him.

beep.

a cat plushie you had gifted him in celebration of his lastest comeback before he had left.

beep.

matching mugs the two of you had bought.

minho. everything, everywhere, everyone reminded you of minho. it felt like you were drowning, consumed by him.

"alright, i'll be placing the device on your head. the device will take you through individual memories of the person, but you will have to re-experience certain bigger core memories again as those take a longer time to process. if at any point should you feel distressed or want to stop, please press the red button beside you, and should you want to restore your memories we will reload them back into your brain. however, if you choose not to restore the memories, we will automatically delete them after 30 days." the doctor explained, showing you a strange contraption with two pulse points connecting to either side of your temple.

beside you, the heart rate measured by the machine started beeping faster.

you nodded.

the cold, tingly terminals of the device connected with either side of your temples, the unfamiliar feeling odd and alienating.

then all turned black.

"min! look, they have matching mugs! we should get them," you pointed excitedly to two mugs at a stall in a summer fair you and minho had just happened to pass by. you watched as your old self pointed to the mugs happily, "the world's best boyfriend" and "the world's best girlfriend" written on each mug respectively. "that's so cheesy," minho said, a grin on his face as he pulled you close to him by your waist. well, the old minho in your memories. it felt like a punch in the gut yet the cure to your pain as you stared at his face again in your re-lived memory, his oh-so-familar grin plastered on his stupidly handsome face. "yeah, but it's cute!" you exclaimed, turning to face minho. "pleaseeee," you begged, lips downturned in a pout and your eyes shining hopefully as you tugged on his arm. "fine," minho groans, eventually giving in into your request, feigning annoyace by rolling his eyes yet still smiling at your delighted expression.

god, you missed him so much.

the memory shifted, warping into another blurry picture.

this time, it was another memory that faded in, a memory of you and him sitting in the living room unwrapping your christmas presents. minho tore open his box eagerly, laughing as he held up a green hoodie from his favorite brand gifted to him by you, coupled with some other things like perfume and a brand new wallet. "oops... might've gifted you an accidental matching hoodie by accident," he smiled sheepishly, as you opened your present, some jewelry with . "a red hoodie! now we can match," you snickered, pulling the soft hoodie over your head and slipping it on. "hey, we look like the christmas colours!" you laughed, pouncing on him and tackling him down to make him wear his one as he whined in protest. eventually you did managed to get him to put it on and pose for some pictures, albeit him being disgruntled but still giving in to you anyways.

a tear trickled down your face, landing on your lap as your hands on the chair tightened, gripping the armrests so hard your knuckles started turning white.

the memory started to fade away.

"min! the new comeback was so good, i watched the music video just now," you exclaimed, bounding up to him the moment he opened the front door to your shared apartment. "thanks baby," he smiled, leaning in for a quick peck but suddenly finding a soft plushie being thrust into his hands. it was a plush of a brown and white striped cat, soft to the touch and extremely squishable. "what's this for?" he raised eyebrow, cocking his head in confusion as he stared at you. "it's to celebrate your comeback, I figured i'd give you something to cuddle when i'm not around you," you smiled, "i named the cat mr sprinkles." "who names a plush toy mr sprinkles?" minho laughs, watching as you huff at him about how the name was cute and he was being mean. "thank you though, i appreciate it," he kissed you softly, smiling at the small act of love.

no, stop-

you started to whimper and thrash around.

fade to black again.

"min, look," minho turned to you as you were admiring the ornaments at a booth, the both of you coming across a christmas market and deciding to explore it. "it's a snow globe of us," you pointed out to a small snow globe, with a man and women as figurines in the center of the snow globe and fake snow swirling in the water around them. "it does look like us, doesn't it?" he hummed, pressing a soft kiss into your hair as you subconsciously leaned into him. "we should get it," he suggested, smiling at how your eyes lit up and how you pressed a kiss to his cheek. the two of you purchased the item, and then bought some hot chocolate to sip on to relieve the cold setting into your bones. "jagi-ah," minho called, prompting you to look up at him before gasping in surprise. the first snow of the season. "you know, they say the person you witness the first snow with will be with you for a long, long time." minho grinned, leaning down to kiss you tenderly before intertwining your hands.

you didn't want to forget him, you realized, as you gasped for air, heartbeat skyrocketing as you tried to open your mouth to scream. no, you would never want to forget minho. you would rather cling onto those memories and deal with the pain forever than never having remembered him.

the memory faded.

you gasped in surprise as you ripped open the box, holding up a brand-new, shiny polariod camera wrapped in a gift box, its paper shreds used to cushion the camera hapazardly strewn about the floor. minho watched you with a small smile on his face, eyes sparkling as he happily obliged to any pose you wanted to do with him, groaning half-heartedly but still laughing at the silly faces you made.

the memory started to fade again.

"STOP!" your finger found the red button, desperately pressing it in an attempt to get the machine to start working. all of a sudden, you were jolted back into your consciousness in the middle of the white sterile room again, heaving and gasping for air as you tried to adjust back to the surroundings.

"are you okay? do you need to stop the operation?" the nurse asked, a concerned look on her face. beside you, the machine was beeping, a erratic rhythm.

beep. beep. beep. beep.

your hand reached up to fiddle with your necklace, looking left and right. you swallowed, a lump in your throat.

"yes."

----------

you stumbled out the clinic, hands clutching onto the box of items tightly as your eyes adjusted to the bright light of the sun.

hands shaking, you pulled out your phone.

'my love,' the contact at the top of the screen read. you hadn't called him in months, ever since he had broken up with you. you has tried for a few weeks, but day after day of missed calls was heartbreaking.

you pressed the button.

one ring.

two rings.

three rings.

four rings...

"hello?"

a voice you hadn't heard for months. a voice you had only been hearing in your dreams.

"minho-" a strangled sob left your lips.

"please." you could only force out a choked plea, tears falling rapidly, stumbling onto a nearby bench. people started at you as they walked by, a woman breaking down in a random street in seoul oddly disconcerting.

"where are you? i'll come get you." the moment you heard the concern laced in his voice, your eyes brimmed with more unshed tears, stifling a sob that threatened to escape. in the background, you could hear the sound of things being knocked over, presumably minho rushing to get to you.

you told him your location in between shaky breaths, occasional hiccups interrupting your sentence.

"just wait for me, ok? don't move anywhere," minho firmly instructed, voice soft and calming.

a few minutes passed, and he was nowhere to be found.

he would hate you for this, you realized. you didn't deserve him. he tried so hard to keep you safe, and how did you repay him? by almost erasing all memories of him. the thought of it just broke your heart even more, for if he knew what you had tried to do he would never want to have anything to do with you again.

"y/n!" you heard a voice yell, whipping around only to see minho running to you at full speed. you had never been more glad to see him, your knees instantly buckling as you collapsed into his arms, crying into the crook of his neck as you clutched onto him like a lifeline.

you didn't think you would ever get used to this feeling, you thought. his touch, warmth, his gentle strokes of your hair and whispered sweet nothings were like music to your ears, his hand coming up to rest on your back and his other coming up to gently stroke your hair as he swayed you back and forth. he had clearly just ran from dance practice, you realized, slightly sweaty and panting ever so slightly.

"what's wrong, jagi?" he murmured, soft brown eyes searching your own red and teary ones.

"i- i didn't want to remember you because it was too painful, and then i tried to erase my memories of you, but i realized i didn't want to and i really, really, really fucking miss you and it hurts-" your rambling was cut off by a hiccup, lips quivering as you stared back into his eyes.

here comes the part where he realizes your a disgusting bitch and hates you forever, you thought miserably.

"shh, it's ok," minho pulled you closer, engulfing you in his warmth as his hand rose up to cup your cheek.

what?

he was supposed to hate you, not do... this. you literally tried to erase all memories of him, he should be angry and offended, so why...?

nonetheless, you would take what you could get in what you assumed to be your last moments with him, so instead you leaned into his touch, memorising his every detail again. his soft brown eyes framed with delicate lashes, sharp nose and jawline, the pink rosy tint to his cheeks as the winter wind whipped around you.

"i'm sorry," you begged, "just don't hate me."

"i never did, silly." minho laughed softly, a wistful smile gracing his lips.

"but you left me." you said, confused.

"i left you because i loved you. it was just for your own safety, i didn't care about anything else," minho explained, brows furrowing slightly.

oh.

minho stumbled backwards as you crashed into him with a force, nearly knocking him over as you crashed your lips onto his, hands threading through his soft silky hair and teeth knocking against his. it was a heated, messy kiss, teeth clashing and tears streaming down your face, yet minho didn't seem to mind as he deepened the kiss with a fervour, all seeming to pour out of him, pain and regret, relief and want. it is only when you seperate with a gasping breath of air that you finally see his swollen, reddened lips.

“i’ll figure something out, i’ll talk to the company, make a statement or something- i won’t let anyone get to you, i promise,” he rambled, a giddy smile on his face. right now, minho could care less about the repercussions, even if he had to move mountains just to be by your side and keep you safe at the same time.

you giggled, an infectious laugh bubbling out of you. the both of you, crying in the middle of a street, hands intertwined and both a mess, yet you had never been happier with the person you truly loved.

“we'll be alright now.” you whispered. it wasn’t just a statement but a promise, one to keep forever.

december 25th, 2020, 1.43 pm.

“min! come look!” you squealed in delight, eyes lighting up when you were finally done. minho glanced over, and sure enough, you were up to mischief again, the three cats dressed in ugly christmas sweaters with cartoonish designs on them and matching hats on their heads. doongie let out a ‘meow’ of indignation, protesting as minho roared with laughter to scoop him and his fellow cats up. laughter bubbling out of your lips, you quickly grabbed your phone to take a picture of minho and the three cats, his face lighting up in amusement as he watched them try to squirm out of his grasp.

“i love you, you know that?” minho says that night, the two of you cuddled up on the couch with the cats, watching your favourite seasonal christmas movies together and snacking on popcorn.

“i don’t say it enough, partly because i’m not good at expressing myself, but i love you. your smile and personality and everything. just thought you should know.” the tips of his ears are red as he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

you smile, a red tint blossoming across your cheeks as you lean in to kiss him softly.

“i love you too min.”

how did you ever get so lucky? you think, leaning in to rest your head on minho’s shoulder as you resumed watching the movie, one hand absentmindedly scratching dori’s head as he purrs in contentment. here, in the dim light of the cozy apartment with minho, love heavy in the air around you two and christmas lights twinkling merrily, you think you have everything you have ever wanted in life.

after all, it didn't really matter where you were, as long as minho was by your side.

taglist: @starseungs @missmajdastark @jazziwritesthings @layviyu @lailac13 @ana-marais98 @foxinthewild @dandelions-143 @rylea08 @linocz @minseongsworld @realrintaro @kkamismon12 @felinows @baribaaari

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a-jynx · 7 months

Text

buried promise (Astarion x reader)

bg3 has had me in a chokehold, specifically a certain vampiric rogue.. and i felt angsty, so i hope you enjoy !

maybe this will get me into writing after years lmao - this may be out of character, but i just needed this for my lil heart okay ;-;

angst warning tbh <3

You swore you'd find a cure. You swore to fight for him.

Yet, you forced him to promise to live if you died- he laughed when you said it, not truly believing such words from you... Why would he? You were cursed. Easily fixable... Right?

He sent for anyone - everyone - that could and would help you, but no luck came your way. The curse was progressing faster by day, he could see it. Draining the color from your skin, sucking up your warmth like a fire being snuffed out. Even, your eyes changed colors. Becoming something dull. Lifeless.

You saved the city. You helped even the most miserable low lives when you wouldn't benefit from it. And you... You helped him. Saved him. He swore to save you just like you did for him. Nights became longer as he sat rereading the books Gale had scavenged up for you. Rubbing sleep from his eyes while glancing at your sleeping figure curled up in one of your armchairs; snuggled into a cocoon of blankets to help you keep warm. You looked peaceful. No pain, just peace. Rolling his shoulders, he grabbed another book before practically stabbing his nose into the musky pages. He was going to save you.

"You promised to try, my love," he murmured into your hair, brushing it from your eyes as you curled further into your shared sheets. Cold nipped at your fingertips, biting at your blood supply as if it were your lover. "I tried, my star, but I just want to rest-"

"You've rested enough," he bit, crawling into bed behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around you. His grip shaking. "It's time for you try and get up. Move. You're letting this curse take hold and.." His voice trailed, feeling his chest ache. A tight bubble strangled his voice, quieting it. "Please." His voice was barely a whisper. "Please, try." You glanced over your shoulder to see him. His ruby eyes brimmed with tears. Turning in his hold, you pressed yourself into his chest, gripping his shirt tightly. Your shared ring catching on the fabric as you felt your own tears well up. "Aeterna Amantes," your lips pressed a careful kiss to his exposed skin. Dotting your way up his throat as you felt tears drip past your lips. "Lovers Forever."

He remembered teaching you that. That was his promise to you the day you slipped a ring on each other's finger. Now it's become your promise to. Even if you lay on Death's doorstep, your last breath would be a promise of love to him. A promise for his peace.

"Aeterna Amantes," his voice shook before he buried his head into your hair, lips fangs catching his already chewed lip. Pressing quick kisses against your crown as you allowed your own tears to caress your cheek, he bit back a bitter laugh. "I'll find something." He whispered, hiccupping back a sob. "I'll save you." Wrapped in your sheets and each other, somehow you felt more... Alive than you have in these last days. "I know you will."

Time had not been kind.

He failed. And he kept failing, and failing, and failing - everything seemed to work against him in this rush against time. This curse had sucked your very life from your bones and left you bedridden, hells, you couldn't even make it to the other side of your bed.

"There's not more we could do?" He could beg..

"I'm sorry, my friend, but we've exhausted all of our options." He could slaughter. He could give away the ring that keeps him from bursting into ashes at dawn. He should've protected them. He could've- "The best you could do now is, just be with them. Fill these last moments with peace." He was tired of peace. He wanted life.

"Right. Well, I trust you can find the door," he turned away from his friend, the one person he thought could save his lover - his darling - Had failed him. "I need to keep searching."

"Astarion, these might be their final moments and they're withering away-"

"Do you believe I haven't realized that, Gale?! I'm watching them become a husk of their former self!" He couldn't fight back the laugh, yet tears dripped down his cheeks. "I am the one who watches as they wither away in our very bed. The bed that should've been warmed by them for years to come have it not been for the wench we met! I busy myself with every book and scroll that the lands and seas could offer me! I sit beside them waiting," his lips trembled. "I sit beside my lover waiting for their breathing to stop. For their heart to quit. To take them away from me,"

"I meant no harm,"

"And yet, you suggest I sit idly by and allow my love to perish." Astarion moved upstairs, listening to the front door slam shut behind his friend. He felt his legs give from beneath him, his knees slamming into the stairs. Kneeling there, he pressed himself against the wall, gripping his white curls with shaking fingers. Tugging at the ends, he jumped at the loud thump that came from the top of the stairs. Moving quickly, he nearly fell at the sight.

You sat up from your kneeling, holding your knee as he rushed over, grabbing the blanket that rested around your shoulders as you leaned into his chest. Sweat dripped down your brow while you wheezed, trying to catch your breath. "What happened," he searched over your body for any marks. His fingertips grazed over your old battle scars and even his old love bites, the ridges seemed to chase his touch. "Why're you out of bed, my love? You should've called for me-"

"I heard you and Gale," you murmured into his shirt. His grip seemed to tighten around your waist as you curled further into him. "I know our time is coming to an end." Your breath seemed to be so hushed that even his ears could pick it up. Or, more so he didn't want to hear it.

"Godsdamnit.. Gale is a fool." He snipped, carefully maneuvering your body to fit against his own as he lifted you. You shivered against him, wincing at the movement and bitterness in his voice. "We'll find you something," he paused, pushing open your bedroom door and quickly setting you back into your silk sheet prison. You felt your heart shatter at his state. His skin seemed more transparent, his eyes a duller yet still brilliant red, and dark circles curled around his eyes as they seemed to be sunken in.

"What if there is nothing for me, my love," you sighed, caressing his cheek as he tsked, grabbing your hand and pressing gentle kisses to your tattered knuckles. "What if you're... Wasting our time?"

"Any time I have that is searching for something to help you," he paused, pressing a kiss to your wrist. "Is." Anther kiss to your shoulder. "Never." Another pressed to your neck, you shivered. "Wasted." He pressed his lips firmly against your own. Both of your lips chapped and scratchy, but he moved further into your bubble, pressing his body against your own. His hands slithered up your body, tugging you into his lap while his lips ventured down your throat. His fangs ghosted your flesh, barely leaving a mark in their wake.

You lurched away, your chest squeezed, and your lungs felt as if they were burning from the inside out. You turned away, attempting to cover your cough as Astarion laid you back against your pillow. Blood trickled past your cracked lips as he stared at you with wide eyes, reddened lips agape. "I'm, I'm sorry," you quivered over each shake, covering your mouth as more blood smeared across your chin and palm. He moved closer, ripping a piece of his shirt and pressed it against your lips, wiping away whatever blood spilled.

"Hush, just let it out, darling," His voice trailed as your coughing fit continued. More blood came and more clothes were ripped from his very back. Time had run out..

He left you to sleep, wandering outside into the crisp night air, feeling his lungs burn as he inhaled as deeply as he could. His chest tightened as his mind flickered back to your blood smeared across your lips. The gags and cries as you tried to stop, tried to swallow water to make the copper taste leave, but you said it reminded you of him. The smell and taste. Balling his fists, he moved through the forest behind your home. No clear direction in mind, just movement. Clear air. Dampened colors of the world. He stumbled as he came to a cliff. With a hiss, he stood at the edge, feeling the heightened breeze push past him as if trying to make him stumble and fall.

Fall.

Oh, he fell. He fell for you.

You were a rare gem in his eyes. Someone who could roll with the punches of life and still come out with a smile. Perhaps someone's blood smeared across your cheek, but he would happily wipe it away before pressing his lips to yours. You were his reason for freedom. Hells, you found him something to help keep his freedom amongst the world after 200 centuries of torture and forgetting who he was. But you gave him someone new. You showed him there was a way to a good life... A precious life. But now his reason is being ripped away from him. And he can't fight or kill this beast.

Astarion watched the horizon, his gaze twitching down to the two rings that cladded his fingers. His other hand moved towards it, trembling as he traced the golden bands. One glittered with rubies, a slight glow to the band itself. The other could be seen as just an ordinary ring, yet it held the most value to him. It was his promise to you. The shared rings between you. His gaze settled on the trees to his left. Moving towards it, he smiled softly as his fingers grazed the bark. Your initials carved jaggedly into it with his last name attached. Memories flooded his mind as tears washed over him once more, yet he couldn't fight back the smile gracing him. Turning around he noticed a rather large pair of rocks near the cliff, swallowing thickly he moved closer and grabbing them, plucking his dagger from its sleeve and began to carve.

Hours had passed. He found himself back in front of his - your - home. More memories danced around his mind as he walked inside, his hand grazed every surface it could reach as he moved up the stairs. His chest felt tight, yet he pressed on.

Opening the bedroom door, his gaze softened as it fell to you. Your chest barely pushed up the blankets as sweat matted your hair to your forehead. Your lips were a chapped pink, torn from your nervous chewing - possibly his fangs work as well. Your eyes fluttered as he settled onto the bed next to you, caressing your cheek as you blinked awake. "Finally coming to bed?" You tried to smile as he mirrored it, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I thought we could go somewhere first.. Remember our cliff?" His voice hushed as you sighed, gently nodding. "How could I forget the most magical place of my life?" He smiled again, brushing hair from your eyes. "I would say this was the most magical," he grinned as you scoffed, quickly turning away as you coughed shaking gently.

"I'll help you, my love," he rose from your shared bed. Carefully moving his arm underneath your knees and caressing your back, your body cradled against him. The movements felt like that of a mother rocking her newborn child as he descended down your stairs, still holding you close as you sighed into his ripped and stained shirt. "You... You should wash this, my star," you murmured, feeling the scratch of your old blood stain as he tsked.

"I'll be alright, darling, you just rest..." His voice seemed softer than usual. Lucid even. You heard a door open and shut as the world around you chirped and sang with birds and insects songs. The breeze chilled your skin as you gently shook against Astarion's chest, goosebumps lining your flesh. "We're almost there, my sweet, just a bit longer, please." You nodded against his chest, sighing softly.

All movement stopped as your body met the dirt and grass, Astarion following as you leaned into the curve of his body. You smiled, moving your head to where you could see your vampiric lover. He seemed... At peace. Whole. You caressed his cheek with your trembling hand, your thumb dragging across his skin. His lips caught your thumb, pressing a soft kiss to it.

"Thank you for bringing me here." You whispered, afraid to disturb the gentleness surrounding you.

"Thank you for being with me." He whispered back, catching your lips in an almost blistering kiss. You inhaled, feeling your chest tighten and your eyes began to flutter, yet your lips still danced along with his own. Seemingly chasing his, begging for more time..

He felt his lips quiver as you slumped into his arms. Your mouth falling away from his own while your head rolled into the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Tears stained his cheeks as he held you close, shaking with gasping sobs.

You were gone. Just... Gone.

Licking his lips, he gently stood, taking your limp figure with him before moving towards the hole he had made before.. He knew your time was over when he saw the blood. The thing he once thrived to take from you, now all he could wish for was for it to return to you. Carefully placing your body into the earth, sinking to his knees as he pushed and shoved dirt over your body; more tears blurred his vision as he pushed forward, wanting to dive in after you. Once his hands were dusted in the dirt that now held your body, he glanced to the stone he had carved earlier, Y/N Ancunín. Reaching over, he plucked one of the few wildflowers and laid it on top, releasing a shaking breath.

Astarion blinked once, twice before swallowing thickly. Early sunlight peaked over the horizon now, awakening the world around him and yet... All he wanted was to rest. To sleep. Carefully standing, he moved around your grave, and pressed a kiss to your gravestone. Standing to his full height, he turned towards the cliff and watched as the sun rose over head. Feeling the warmth that caressed his cold skin, he huffed out a sigh as he walked backwards, settling into the spot next to your grave. Licking his lips, he glanced towards your sight once again as he smiled softly, closing his eyes and seeing your smiling face greeting him.

"Aeterna Amantes, my darling.. Lovers Forever. I will find you again," he paused, swallowing around his tongue as he reached towards his left hand, gently tugging off your wedding band and pushing it into the earth underneath him.

"After this life, and the next... I love you, my sweet love."

His voice fell into a sigh as he tugged off the last ring. The sunlight bit and bullied through his flesh, burning and peeling at it as he began to sparkle and crumble. His final thought of hugging you tight while pressing a firm yet loving kiss to your lips. Tugging you into his chest, while you laugh and smile into the kiss.

The sunlight ring glittering in front of your shared burial site. Your headstones he carved with a gentle caress, love, and kindness. You were lovers. Soulmates even. Beings that were crafted to fit one another and Astarion knew that... If he lost you, he would lose himself all over again. Besides... He promised you.

#bg3 x reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion #reader insert #bg3 astarion #baulders gate astarion #baulders gate 3 x reader #baulders gate 3 #astarion angst #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion romance

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blackswan446 · 1 month

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Hello Evieee!, im new to your blog but i already read lifetime and thief and i really like it. Can I request part 2 of lifetime where oc tries to escape and get punished by jungkook and then oc tries to be obedient then wants to request something that makes jungkook hesistant to consider? ☺️ thank you 💗

lifetime || two.

→ pairing: yan!jjk x reader

→ synopsis: we live for so many years, why not make them the happiest you can?

→ wc: 3584

→ cws: manipulation, guilttripping, murder, implied dub-con

→ notes: originally wasn't planning to do a part two on this cus i didn't have any ideas for what could be next, but this ask sparked inspiration so i'm really excited :)) thank you for asking!! <3 also the ending kind of suggests a part 3 and i have an idea for it but i dunno when it'll come out sooo

part one || m.list

the last three months seemingly dragged by like years. every second felt like a minute, and every minute felt like an hour. you were like a bird, skittish and anxious to escape the cage they had been locked in by a cruel captor.

to any outsider, your misery would come off as nothing but ingratitude and paint you as a finicky, spoiled brat. and honestly, you couldn't blame them for it. because anyone who peered through the tall glass windows of the luxurious mansion was bound to see just that--luxury. all they would see is the glass chandelier, the marble counters, and the endless indicators of money and class.

what they wouldn't see is the basement. the dark, damp, cold basement that you lived in--not physically, but mentally. you were trapped in this imaginary basement, and as much as you tried to claw at the concrete walls, and bang on the metal door, you couldn't escape it, not if you dedicated your entire life to it.

aside from the obvious, your life was perfect, at least by society's standards. you had everything you ever wanted and could get anything else you wanted at the drop of a hat. nice clothes, expensive jewelry, high-end makeup, flashy accessories. but you never really used them, since you didn't exactly leave the house, unless if it was time for you to play dress at one of jungkook's fancy work events, and cling onto his arm, following him around the whole night, your youth and beauty grabbing the attention of his rich business associates and peers, while you hoped that the pleading look in your eyes would alert the otherwise-blind millionaires to your distress.

since you didn't leave the house much, jungkook thought ahead and considered the inevitable boredom you would face. he stocked the house with as many hobby supplies as he could get his hands on. art, baking, reading, you name it, it's there. and anything that wasn't there would show up a mere hour after you requested it. not that you ever did, but jungkook practically bent over backwards to sweeten the pot for you, to put the rose colored glasses over your eyes and prove that being there with him was a good thing.

but none of this changed the fact that you were miserable. you missed the outside, you missed your life. you missed your achievements and the payoff of your hard work, which proved to do nothing for you inside of the prison you were trapped in. you missed the serenity of your street and the walk to your favorite coffee shop. you missed being human. physically you were a human, of course, but in your eyes, you felt as if you were nothing more than a shell, who didn't feel the pain of everyday problems and the joy of solving those problems. as much as you complained about them before, you would give anything to get out and feel those emotions again.

but after months of sulking, you finally had a plan. jungkook had placed security around the house--partly for his own protection and the safety of his house, and partly to keep you from getting out. you had never spoken to them, and they never spoke to you. but today, this would change. stuffing as many shiny jewels, expensive shoes, and silky dresses into the biggest and most expensive handbag you had in your closet, you put on a pair of basic shoes and the only black jacket you could find.

exiting the closet, you descended the grand stairs and looked around for the guard. not just any one in specific, but the one that stood by the front door. you needed to talk to this one only, it was crucial that you extended this offer to him and only him. why? you had overheard him talking in a hushed voice with a fellow guard, practically erupting with envy and awe at the house he found himself in. you knew he would fold immediately at what you had to offer and not say a word about it, which is why it was so important for you to talk to him.

you spotted him, in his usual spot by the door, staring straight forward with a blank look on his face. you took a deep breath, and approached him, and as you did, he shifted to stand more in front of the door. "do you need something?" he asked you. you looked around quickly, checking for any other witnesses before you began to speak.

"please, i need to get out of here. you need to let me leave." you pleaded quietly. the man shook his head. "no can do. i'm sorry." he said coldly, not even bothering to look at you. sighing, you held up the expensive handbag at rested at your side, and opened it to reveal the mess of jewels and fabric you that hid inside. "please," you repeated, "just let me out, and it's all yours. this, and whatever else you can grab from the closet before he comes home."

he peered into the bag, and he didn't need to say anything for you to know what he was thinking. but he didn't let up. shaking his head again, he returned his attention back to the house in front of him. you sighed in frustration. "please, i can't stay here anymore. you can tell him i jumped out of a window. you're not allowed to go up there anyways, right? you won't get blamed. besides, you can sell all this stuff, or give it to your wife, or-"

you were interrupted when the guard abruptly reached out and yanked the handbag from your trembling hands, holding it behind his tall figure. he didn't look down again, or say anything, but instead he stepped sideways, revealing the knob to the front door and the surprisingly simple latch that unlocked it. you laughed, out of relief and partial disbelief. the relief, though, was kind, and warm, and it washed over your mind like water and undid the tense knots in your body.

it was also very brief.

in that moment, the exact moment that you had regained your sweet freedom, one set of footsteps managed to make it crash down around you. "princess, is that you?" jungkook called, swiftly entering the foyer where you and the guard stood, caught red-handed in your scheme. you whipped around quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly, and your guilty eyes met his suspicious ones. "what's going on here?..." he trailed off, taking in the sight of you in tennis shoes and a jacket, and the guard holding a very familiar, very expensive handbag behind his back.

inhaling deeply, an eerie calm took over the man, his earlier confusion evaporating as he put the pieces together. you swallowed thickly, heartbeat deafening in your ears as he looked back and forth between the two of you. without a word, he grabbed you by the bicep and yanked you closer to him, the clean soles of your sneakers squeaking on the shiny floor. he then stuck his hand out towards the guard, fingers open as he shamefully returned the bag. "i deeply apologize, sir. i was wro-"

"stay here, mr. ahn. i'd like to have a word with you later." jungkook said coldly, turning on his heel to ascend the stairs behind him, dragging you with him. you glanced down from the top of the stairs at mr. ahn, who wore a look that could only be described as pure terror. he knew what was next for him, he knew that he had messed up beyond repair.

leading you down the maze of hallways and identical doors, jungkook finally stopped at a new one, and also the biggest one you had seen, which was obviously his own room. shoving you forwards towards the bed, which was on the other side of the grand room, he pushed you down to sit on the edge of the bed and went to shut and lock the door behind him. it wasn't until he had returned, and took a seat next to your shaky figure, that he spoke.

"i'm not mad, princess." he said calmly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "i'm just confused. why would you try and escape? what were you thinking?" he asked himself, scoffing in annoyance. "are you really that unhappy?"

you turned your head to him, slowly, and stared at him in utter disbelief. "i mean, i knew you would need time to adjust. but running away from me? after everything i've done for you?" he continued, shaking his head. "why did you do it, angel? just tell me. why'd you try and leave me?"

"because this place is a prison. you kidnap me, and take me away from everything i've ever loved, and lock me in this cage, and try to distract me with all these fancy clothes that i can't even wear to anywhere, and give me these stupid ass baking pans, and art canvases, just to try and dumb me down, and make me forget what you did to me! so you tell me, jungkook. why do you think i tried to run away?" you exploded, giving him a nasty glare as he nodded slowly, in a way that made him look more amused than anything.

"is that what you think it is? a prison? after everything i've done for you. the money i've spent. the blood that has been shed, the dirty blood of that whore, that i watched pour from her head after i hit her. i do all of that just for you, and this is how you repay me?" he seethed. "honestly, [name], i'm hurt. i thought you would be happier here, but apparently, i was wrong." he said, the white-hot tone of his voice now gone and replaced by a remorseful murmur. your glimmer of hope shined through once again at the idea you thought he was suggesting.

"i know i shouldn't be mad at you. it's all my fault that you're so unhappy here. all alone, all day long. it must be awful. you must be so lonely." he said quietly, fiddling with his hands as he stared down at his shoes. "i'm so sorry, [name]." you didn't respond to his apology, and you let it bounce off your heart and onto the floor in front of you. "i'm going to do so much better. okay? i know what i can do!" he smiled, a wicked idea forming in his mind. "i can change my position at work, and instead of going there everyday, i can do my work here, and stay home with you!" he exclaimed, smiling proudly at his new plan. your heart sunk to the floor at his words. the last thing you needed was jungkook sticking around here with you all day long.

you shook your head. "no, jungkook. you don't-you don't need to do that." he waved his hands in denial. "nope," he vetoed, "it's decided. i'm telling everybody tonight. trust me, princess, this is for the best." he sighed contentedly, before his voice got low and serious. he stood up from his spot next to you, and stood right in front of you. "now, we may have solved the problem, but we still need to address what happened earlier. what you did isn't okay, angel. it was rude, and stupid, and it hurt me a lot. how do you think that makes me feel as a provider? as someone who loves you? honestly, [name], do you enjoy hurting people like that?" he asked.

though you had tried to resist it, the dagger of guilt had managed to stab you, right in the gut. jungkook sounded hurt, and the way he put things made you feel like a total piece of shit. you shook your head again. "but, you're not the only one who did something wrong. mr. ahn's actions told me all i need to know about his loyalty and how much he cares about his job. so the only right thing to do now is punish those who were wrong. that sounds fair, doesn't it?" he asked innocently. you nodded, stomach sinking at the direction this was going in. "use your words." he commanded, putting a firm hand on your shoulder. "yes, that sounds fair." you whispered weakly.

"now, there are...a few ways...i could punish you right now. but you're not the only one who messed up. and besides, i think those other ways would be better reserved for when we're home together. yeah?" he joked, the smirk potent in his sweet voice. "so here's what we'll do. mr. ahn was unloyal to me. he didn't do what i asked him to, and i don't go for that. but, i'm going to leave it up to you,"

"should i go and kill mr. ahn right now, or,"

you shook your head frantically. "jungkook, no. please, don't. it's my fault, okay? i'm sorry." you pleaded. he nodded. "yeah, princess, it is your fault. and now, you're paying the price. so, i could go and kill him right now, or,

i could burn down this entire house with everybody in it, including us."

your stomach lurched at the sick words that fell from his mouth so easily. tears brimmed your eyes, blurring the glow of the chandelier above you into a mess of golden light and black suit fabric as you looked up in disbelief. it felt like every organ in your body somehow stopped working and kicked into overdrive all at once. "please, jungkook. you don't have to kill anybody. please, i'm sorry. it's my fault. just do whatever you said earlier to me. please, don't hurt anybody else." you choked out, cheeks slick with tears.

he shook his head. "those are the only two options for you, princess. i like your enthusiasm, though. so what'll it be? kill one man who deserves it, or bring down ten other innocent people, including yourself?" he probed, pushing your jaw up to look at him. "now, [name], or i'll choose for you." he warned.

"the first one!" you spat. "now, which one was that? don't be shy, princess, i want to hear that sweet voice of yours." he teased, smirking at your distress. "kill mr. ahn." you said weakly, your blurry vision just able to make out the smug grin on jungkook's face. he shrugged nonchalantly, dropping your jaw from his hands and letting it fall as you laid your head in your hands, barely biting back uncontrollable, heaving sobs. "if you say so."

he left, strides long and shoulders back, and the seconds once again felt like hours as you were left alone in the unbearable silence. though you preferred deafening silence over what was next. the yelps of pain, the pleas, and the deafening sound of bones cracking and bloody knuckles meeting bruised flesh. even from a floor away, you could hear the atrocity from the bedroom. you clasped your hands over your ears, hoping the blockage and the sound of your own crying would mute the tortuous sounds.

after a disturbingly short amount of time, you heard the thrashing and struggling grind to a stop. taking your shaky hands away from your red ears, you pulled them close to your chest, crinkling back into a fetal position on the bed as your wails echoed off the walls of the bedroom. tears flooded from your eyes, onto the fabric of the comforter and into your hair, and only got worse as you heard the sound of dreaded footsteps drawing closer to the bedroom.

as you wallowed in the pits of hellish guilt, you made a promise, to both yourself and to everybody else that stood in the unpredictable path of jungkook's rage and violence.

this was never going to happen again.

❀⊱ ═════════════════ ⋆★⋆ ═════════════════ ⊰❀

this time, you were confident. there was no way your plan could go wrong. this was your guaranteed ticket to freedom.

you spent months being obedient. conforming yourself to be the perfect one for him. ever since that horrific day, when an innocent man died because of your careless decision, you committed yourself to the mission of making sure something like that never, ever happened again, not if you could help it.

so you listened. you let him say whatever he wanted, do whatever he wanted. you were more than just his ragdoll, though, you played along. you smiled at him sweetly, and listened to his words, and told him you loved him with a kiss on the cheek every night before sleeping.

of course, it made you sick. knowing the hands that grabbed your waist and played with your hair and made you dinner and everything in between were the same ones that brutally ended the life of innocent people made your stomach twist in ways it never had before, and you hated it.

every night, you felt so marked, so unpure, so dirty. like the blood that he washed down the drain like nothing that day had stayed on his hands and left smudgy, sticky handprints all over you. but maybe, just maybe, your trying days and sleepless nights would finally pay off.

knocking softly on the wooden door, you didn't need to wait for jungkook to respond before you opened the door. looking up, he smiled happily as he saw you come towards him. "there you are, princess!" he greeted, closing his laptop as you smiled back at him. you greeted him quietly as you shut the door behind you. "come sit, darling." he beckoned, tapping his lap as he pushed his chair out, "i missed you today."

you obliged, a sharp tinge of disgust striking through your heart as you straddled his lap, resting your chin on his shoulder. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him and sighing deeply. "how was your day? do anything interesting? i wish i could've stayed with you today." he said wistfully, rubbing his hands up and down your back gently.

you shook your head. "not really. it was good, though." you replied. sitting back, you met his eyes, the hesitated look on your face acting as the dangling carrot in front of the hungry rabbit. "what is it, sweetheart? you look sad."

you shrugged. "oh, i don't know. it's kind of silly. don't worry about it." you chuckled, fiddling with your fingers as you spoke. eyebrows knitting together, jungkook shook his head. "no it's not, baby. tell me what's going on." he probed. for a second, just a split second, your mind began to wander into the waters of uncertainty.

"come on, you know i like to hear your sweet voice."

your heart lurched at the sentence, one that was forever stuck in your mind as a painful reminder of that awful day. suddenly, the uncertainty was gone, replaced by an urgent sense of eagerness and determination.

"i just miss my old life." you admitted. "i was just...so proud of everything that i made for myself. not that i don't like it here with you, but i miss my routine. i miss going to the store, and getting my coffee, and walking through my neighborhood. it took me a long time to finally gain happiness, and i wish i could've held onto that for a little longer." you said sadly, eyes welling up at the memories of the life you once cherished.

jungkook nodded slowly. he stayed silent, but you could see the wheels turning in his head as he considered your confession. "and, i was kind of wondering, if..." you sighed shakily, "if it'd be okay for me to go out? just for the day, sometimes. and i'd come back here every night. i would just want to go back to my apartment, and get my old clothes, and have another one of my favorite drinks, and visit the old park i used to walk at."

looking back into his eyes, you were met with his own eyes being focused on the floor. he had a thoughtful expression, and the oh-so sweet glimmer of hope that had been extinguished for so long finally regained its spark. he stayed like that for a while, as if he were picturing everything you just said and everything that could go wrong.

"i'll think about it."

your eyes widened, eyebrows raising and the corners of your mouth curling upwards. "really?!" you exulted, sitting up in his lap. he smiled and nodded again. "yeah, really. you've been a good girl, i think you deserve a reward." he grinned. "thank you, thank you!" you cheered, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug and kissing his cheek.

"of course, darling. anything for you." he beamed. "why don't you go to the kitchen and have someone start on dinner? i just have one more call to make, and then i'm all yours. sound good?" he hummed. you nodded happily, hopping off his lap and bubbling out of the office.

it worked, it worked so well! the glow of freedom was so close, you could practically feel its warmth absorb into your skin as you skipped downstairs. everything seemed brighter now; the lights illuminated the room in a different way, the vases of flowers were more vibrant, and your soul felt like it was shining more than it had in months.

if only you knew the storm cloud that was headed your way.

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #yandere #yandere jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #asks

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hauntedwitch04 · 7 months

Text

My Goddess

Rhysand x reader

Words: about 3.5k words

Warnings: smut, smut, I forgot to say smut, a little bit sad at the beginnig, my deepest insecurities, shower sex, rude male

Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. Hope you like it, your witch Becky

p.s some parts are very personal (hair loss part and insecurities), and I'm kinda sorry, but I wrote this by heart and because of this it came out like this, hope you like it anyway.

Requests are open I Ask

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 5: Body worship

I have never had a good relationship with my body.

It sounds silly to say, but all my life I've never had a good relationship with me in general, and this is something that I and my brother Azriel have in common.

He since childhood has had to endure the sight of his hands being ruined by fire because of those idiotic half-brothers of ours.

I, on the other hand, have had to endure the sight of my legs, my belly, my face that I do not consider beautiful enough to please anyone, and all of this feeling would end up manifesting itself in extreme anxiety attacks that my physique demonstrates by losing all my hair. I have always been unable to look at myself in the mirror because I cannot stand to see my forehead devoid of hair, along with most of my skull, solely because I cannot fight what I have inside. I think in part I can't look at myself because I feel guilty about betraying the little me, whom I see again every time I look in the mirror, who imagined a beautiful and perfect life, which I am increasingly convinced I will never have. As a child I dreamed of meeting my partner, who would love me with all his life and we would have a family together, always with my brother close by.

My brother, on the contrary, as much as he too believed that he did not deserve a mate, never found any problems in finding a woman to spend a night with, being one of the most handsome men Mother has ever conceived. I, on the other hand, have never had too much luck in love, since every time I saw a man approaching me, my first reaction is to turn away being that I don't want to be disappointed and hurt. And partly because I am deeply in love with my brother's best friend, or rather one of them: the not very famous and not at all attractive Rhysand.

For as long as I can remember, I couldn't help but fall in love with his violet eyes and sly smile, but of course it never crossed my mind to confess how I feel, knowing that I would ruin a friendship I cherish as well as ridicule myself.

Like every Saturday night Mor has forced me to go out with my brother and his two other friends, Rhys and Cass, knowing that I never have too much desire to go out and show off my body. Yet here I am sitting back on a miserable chair in the corner of yet another bar, watching my friends having fun.

Immediately, however, I feel something in the air change, and I notice that a man is sitting next to me. Too close to me. As soon as I notice that closeness I immediately feel uncomfortable, so I try to move away, but immediately I feel his hand resting on top of my wrist, squeezing it tightly.

"Hey baby, where are you running off to?" He says in a faux-sweet voice as a stench of cheap alcohol escapes from his mouth, and immediately I find myself holding back a gag as well as trying not to show my fear.

"My brother and his friends are looking for me, I should go." You lie, trying to push me away but he squeezes tighter and makes you let out a half moan of pain, too.

"I'm sure they won't notice your absence. How about coming with me? We could have fun." He continues by giving me a wink, which sends a shiver all down my spine. I try to pull away again, no longer trying to be nice to him, but this time in addition to holding me close to him, he pulls me closer to him by the hand with which he holds my wrist. I in response to that gesture slap him on the cheek, so hard that the sound seems to resonate throughout the whole place, but I don't care exactly at this moment because I am more focused on his look of pure hatred that he is giving me.

"How dare you little bitch slap me! You should be grateful that someone has the courage to hit on you, you must not have many people trying to bed you at least show gratitude in those who have the mercy to do so." He says in a harsh, rough tone a few inches from my face, even spitting a little.

I have never felt so naked in my life.

I can already feel tears welling up when I hear a voice behind me, noisily interrupting my thoughts.

"I would advise you to let the girl go right away, and maybe our Azzy will only allow you to die after a week of torture." Says a voice hoarse and deep, warm and enveloping as a summer night. Immediately I feel a sense of relief, and I move back to meet Rhys's muscular chest, who immediately wraps an arm around my waist, to make me feel his presence and quietly tell me I was safe.

"You don't need to make all this fuss over a sleazy bitch, if you want her so bad you can have her, even though I had seen her first. Who do you think you are anyway, you little bitch?" Asks the man trying to approach Rhys, pointing a finger at him. Seeing his gestures my friend moves me behind his back, still holding my hand, while with a look capable of killing he looks at the man who is tormenting me.

I feel it emanating pure power, so strong, it sends shivers down my spine. I feel it pass between our intertwined fingers like a night breeze mixed with stardust.

I see his shoulders stretch out so that he stands in all his height, and shows himself in all his grandeur before his enemy.

"Your worst nightmare." He replies with a growl.

Fuck, I need a cold shower when I get home. This is my first thought, then I force myself to stay alert, remembering the situation we are in.

"Rhys it's not worth it to fight with this asshole, please take me-" I implore my friend, before being interrupted.

"What did you call me bitch?" Asks the asshole in front of us rhetorically, only to be slammed against the wall by an unseen hand, clutching at his throat.

"The young lady was just finishing saying something, now you're going to be a good boy, and I'm going to spare you the pain of cutting off your fingers piece by piece, and I'm going to do it with one blow." Young High Lord responds with feigned gentleness as I see him tighten his other hand to make his grip on the man's neck slammed to the wall tighter.

"Please Rhys, take me home, I just want to take a shower and go to bed." I pick up my speech where I left off.

"As you wish. Az, will you Cass take care of this pig?" Rhys asks, turning his face slightly to look at his friends who have since materialized beside us. I see my brother looking at me with eyes full of sadness and anger; he walks over and kisses my forehead softly, before answering Rhys.

"Sure. Can I do whatever I want with him?" Az asks as he shifts his gaze to the man who tried to touch me, his little sister.

"Give vent to your kinkiest perversions and all the imagination you have Azzy. I'll stay with her in case she needs anything, in case I'll let you know right away." Rhys says at first with his usual smirk, looking in turn at the man he was choking on the wall, who now seems to have gone pale with fear, and then turns his face into something serious.

My brother nods and I do not have time to see his next action that deep night-colored fog, quilted with a few stars, envelops me and I find myself in my room.

Next to me stands Rhys, watching me intently. All the power he exuded a few seconds ago has vanished, to make way for the gentle, kind look I'm used to.

"Are you okay?" She asks me in a whisper, as if afraid that if she spoke too loudly I would destroy myself. I look up and stare into his purple eyes, shining like two precious gems, staring at me so intently that I blush.

"Yes, thank you for intervening, I'm afraid to think what would have happened if I hadn't." I say, trying to make him believe that this is why I am upset, and not because of the words he threw at me. I know perfectly well how to defend myself against a man like him, I've been training my whole life to fight against far greater opponents, but it was his words that struck me deeply in the soul.

I try to hint at a half smile, then head for the bathroom and close the door behind me. From the last look I give him, he doesn't seem very convinced by my theatrics, but he doesn't say anything to me and lets me seek solace in some alone time.

Barely alone in the privacy of my bathroom, I open the tub water to cover the sound of my sobs and let myself go into an overwhelming sob. I spend a few minutes huddled on the floor in the corner of my bathroom brooding over the man's words.

You should be grateful that someone has the courage to hit on you, you don't have to have a lot of people trying to get you into bed at least show gratitude in those who have the mercy to do so.

I feel my heart bleeding, as if it had been pierced by a dagger. I don't even notice that the door has opened, too engrossed in remembering how to breathe. Immediately I see Rhys sitting across from me, his eyes detecting how worried he is Without asking he takes me in his arms and sits me on his lap, stroking my back with one hand, trying to calm my sobs, while with the other he pulls up my face, which I am trying to hide in his neck.

"Don't give me any more bullshit. Talk to me, please, that's all I ask. Take all you want, but talk to me, I can't see you like this." He says as he wipes away my tears.

I spend a few minutes in silence, thinking about what to do or what to say, when I decide to stop listening to the little voice in my ear and finally be honest with the man I love and esteem so much.

"He's right Rhys." I say in a sob.

"Point one, I don't think an asshole of that magnitude could be right, and point two, what would love be right about?" Asks the man holding me close to him.

I take a deep breath and totally open my heart to him.

"Rhys, no one will ever want me for who I am. If someone hits on me they either want to get to you or my brother, or they see in me an easy prey to have a one-night stand, believing I would accept their pity gesture. No one wants me for who I am, but that doesn't shock me either because who would ever want a person with a physique like mine. Besides, I look like a hairless cat, but you know the worst thing about losing my hair due to stress? It's that I can't hide how incapable I am of controlling my emotions beyond the fact that I'm obviously emotionally unstable. And then let's not start with my temper-" I begin to mumble, then increase the volume of my voice more and more, until I feel a pair of warm lips settle on mine. It takes me a few seconds to reciprocate the gesture and I bite down on his plump lips with my teeth. He in response, when I release his lip, takes advantage of my distraction to explore my mouth with his tongue. We stay like this for a few minutes, making out like two eager kids in the back of a disco.

Eventually we break away, both of us needing oxygen. I look at him, and for a moment I cannot conceive that the same boy who is standing here in front of me with his hair tousled from my hands being passed through it and his lips swollen and reddened, could at the same time be the most powerful High Lord all Prythian has ever seen, and yet this is the truth.

"I thought the best way to let you know that what you were saying was a load of crap was to let you know with actions, and not just words." He says with his usual smirk, as I fist him on the shoulder, and then continues. "Now I'm going to try to be serious. Believe me, love, when I tell you that I don't understand how every man on this island, indeed in this world, can't help but be in love with you. You are the kindest, funniest, smartest, most beautiful woman, oh for Mother if you are beautiful, you don't know how many times I had to restrain myself from commenting on what I would do to you because I knew Az would kill me, but believe me it was a real pain to admire you without being able to do anything I wanted to do or taste." He says with a wink, then turns serious again. "You are perfect, in every aspect of you, and don't let just a few more curves discourage you, because they are nothing but an advantage to me, because that way there is more to love, kiss and worship than you. And your hair, it's nothing but a testament to your willpower, your strength and what a badass you are. There is not a single facet of you, because each one is a fundamental part of the woman I love." I feel my breath come short, and he seems to understand because he continues. "Yes I love you, more than my own life, I love you as insistently as we need oxygen to breathe, and I wish I could see you with my own eyes and admire who you really are."

I can't help but kiss him again and then say four simple words that somehow seem to take a huge weight off my heart.

"I love you too." I whisper on his lips, before kissing him again. As before we get carried away with the kiss, but this time it seems to get even more passionate and deep, so much so that slowly Rhys gets up, making me get up as well.

He slowly pulls away from the kiss and to move on to kiss the neck area near my ear, then to whisper something to me.

"Would you like to take a shower with me?" He asks sensuously, as I feel his hands touch every single cell of my body, or so it seems to me. I nod, unable to speak, and so slowly we begin to undress each other, as the shower water magically turns on, and quickly becomes warm.

Once naked, facing each other, we look into each other's eyes and I see him smile, before taking my hand and kissing it, and then kissing my wrist, and so on until we reach his shoulder and this time the other ear where he whispers again.

"You are beautiful, and I can't wait to worship you as the goddess you are once we get into that shower." He says, as I feel a chill run down my spine.

We get into the shower and at first the only things we do is leave hot kisses on each other's skin until Rhys picks up the body soap and begins to gently scrub my back. Suddenly then I feel his hands move from the back to the front, where they begin to massage my breasts. I immediately feel my nipples harden under his touch, and the first moans begin to fall from my lips like an old prayer that he does not remember ever learning, but of which at the most opportune moment he remembers every word. He continues to tease my breasts with one hand, while with the other he begins to play with the center of my pleasure. I totally melt under her touch, as if a witch had cast a spell on me. I feel my knees beginning to give way, while he meanwhile continues his attack on my neck as well, leaving bites and marks of his passage. Just as I was about to reach the apex of pleasure, however, he stops, making me moan this time from the pain of not having reached my orgasm. Rhys turns me around with a simple gesture and matches my back to the shower wall as he presses himself on me, kissing every inch of skin available to him.

"I want to taste you on my lips, I can't afford to make you come solely with my fingers love." She says in a whisper, as she kisses my breasts, and takes one of the nipples in her teeth, while teasing the other with her hand. "I want to make you feel the queen you are." He continues, as he slowly goes to his knees and stands at the same height as my pussy. He thus begins to lick and suck my clit, while he teases my entrance with his fingers. Immediately I bring a hand into his hair, pushing him harder against my center, trying to achieve the pleasure I had missed before. Then his lips move lower until they take the place of his fingers, this time I feel his tongue enter me.

For a second I feel as if I can touch the sky with my finger, as I feel the orgasm coming more and more overwhelmingly. What makes me go further and cum, making me convulse loudly and name my beloved so loudly that even on the Continent they know who gave me such pleasure, is the moan he makes against my center's lips in approval.

"By Mother, you are the best thing I have ever felt in my whole life. I could spend hours devouring you, my whole existence, and I would eat nothing but you, but I can't wait to make you come with my cock." Says Rhys unceremoniously. My brain still foggy with pleasure does not immediately process what he is saying, the only thing I understand is that before long I will feel pleasure like what I just felt if not more.

I see him get up, and I do not have time to realize what is going on that I feel his member enter me, and at this moment I discover that there is actually another level of pleasure of which I was unaware. His thrusts are fast and deep, which combined with his sizable cock, cause him to graze my cervix each time, making me scream so loudly with pleasure that I doubt I will have a voice tomorrow.

We stay so wrapped around each other under the pouring water of the shower making love, sharing such an intimate and personal moment with the person we love most in the world. I feel him kissing every inch of skin he meets, when he is not too busy remembering how to breathe, or he is not whispering in my ear how beautiful I am or how perfect he thinks I am.

I can't quite tell how much time elapsed before I felt the sensation of impending orgasm coming again like a galloping horse, but one shared glance between the two of us and we immediately knew that the other was feeling the same thing, so he quickened his thrusts and I began kissing the sensitive spots on his neck, so that only after a few minutes did we reach pleasure by howling the other person's name.

We stand still for a moment, letting the wave of pleasure no longer cloud our senses, confusing us as we enjoy the sensation of the hot water in the shower. Then, I interrupt the silence to note something.

"Well at least we are already in the shower." I say in a joking tone. Rhys immediately begins to giggle as he hides his head in my neck, then continues to be silent before confessing something of his own.

"It seems like a good time to tell you that you are my mate anyway." He says with obviousness as he picks up the shampoo to wash my hair. I look at him shocked at how calmly he dropped such a bombshell.

"And you tell me like this? Like it's nothing!?" I say shocked, and I see him smiling at my reaction, because he knows that after all, there is no happier person in the universe than me, and you can tell by my smile and the twinkle in my eyes.

"And the worst part is yet to come my goddess, we still have to tell to Azriel." Rhysand confesses, with obvious fear in his face, and I can't help but laugh.

TAGLIST

@horneybeach1 @ash04w3 @123345566 @kidsaproblem @lust4lucille @lisamanban123 @alina02 @shodowbane09 @harleycao

#acotar x reader #imagine acotar #hauntedwitch04's writing #rhysand x reader #rhys acotar #rhysand smut #rhysand x reader smut #kinktober 2023 #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x sister!reader

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chigirizzz · 10 months

Text

ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK — I. SAE

warnings/tags: angst, hurt/a little bit of comfort, gn! reader, descriptions of physical symptoms of anxiety, ooc sae??, not proofread

summary: love is confusing. a part of you knows sae loved you; another part of you makes you question that. if both parts can't coexist, was your relationship worth fighting for?

wc: 2.3k

notes: this one was difficult to write man. i literally rewrote almost every paragraph dozens of times until i thought this entire thing was worth of being posted. while writing this i was literally biting my own fist out of frustration lmao.

»»——⍟——««

being a professional football player for sure brings a lot of things in your life: fame, money, awards, fans, haters, sponsors, you name it. but one thing that no one ever seems to talk about is the painful feeling inside someone’s entire body when under the extreme pressure—the shortness of breath, the rapid beating of the heart, the big knot on the throat, the tightening of the stomach, the burning sensation in the eyes due to increased blood circulation, and so on.

sae was used to those feelings. it was part of his life as an athlete—it was part of his life ever since he was a young boy, like when he had to get ready to leave his home country to live in another one, practically alone, without his family. for days, young itoshi sae felt in panic, nauseous and was disturbed by severe headaches.

it’s funny how emotions can make you physically sick, right?

of course, anyone can feel like this—it's completely normal and it’s what makes us humans. for a singer, those symptoms of sickness might happen mostly on the stage; for a baker, those nerves might happen mostly when getting ready the perfect wedding cake; for a writer, that anxiety might happen mostly when publishing a book, afraid of what people will think of it and if it will sell well.

for football players, those sensations are, most of the time, absorbed by their bodies and minds the moment they step on the field.

sae falls into this category.

then, at the end of the day, people can still live through situations that make them feel anxious outside of their professions—perhaps they have to get ready for a date; perhaps they got lost and can't find the right path to go home.

sae does not fall into this category. he is a rational man who avoids people and feelings not related to his career. he always knows what to do and what not to do.

but today, today is different. today sae itoshi is in the second category, and he might be stuck in there for a while, who knows.

sitting on the edge of the bed you both share, he inhales deeply as his hands make their way to grab said edges. the soft material of the bedspread under his fingers helped him cool down a little bit. so soft ♡. he exhaled after holding his breath for a few seconds.

he could hear your sobs.

you were sitting on the comfy sofa placed in the small, elegant balcony connected to your shared bedroom. although the curtains were blocking the outside view, the chilly, cold wind of the night would constantly move the brownish pink curtains to give the man the perfect—and heartbroken—sight of your figure in a curled up position, crying, with no sign of stopping so soon.

(brownish pink curtains… you wanted to buy those because it reminded you of sae's hair. of your boyfriend's hair. he could still hear your laugh when you suggested buying those.)

you too were in a psychological and physical distress; you too were in the second category—the difference, however, was that you have been in that same category for a while; meanwhile sae has only entered it today.

sae didn’t like the feeling of his sunken heart, of the big knot on his throat and of the tightening of his stomach’s walls when looking at you so miserable like that. and the worst part? he was the reason you were in that state.

in case you didn't understand yet, my dear reader, itoshi sae broke your heart once again and now your relationship is at a great risk of ending. by saying that sae has officially entered the "second category", we get the idea that said man is now anxious, scared, and physically sick with the thought of losing you—the anxiety that he only felt on the field and never in his personal life? he's feeling it right now.

and it’s only now that he understands how much he disappointed you ever since you two started dating. he remembers it all now: how he didn’t show any interest in your thoughts and hobbies (which is not true, he was just devoid of emotions but it still hurt you), how cold his responses could get, how he never denied that his career was the number one priority, the dry messages he sent you when you were excited, how mean he could be to other people even if you’d tell him how much you hated that attitude of his, how he would just gave you a gift after a fight instead of properly apologizing, how he stood up on you several times on a restaurant, all ready for him to arrive for your date, only to not appear because he preferred to stay late at practice and ended up forgetting the plans you both made…

the true—although not surprising at all—is, the oldest itoshi wasn’t good with feelings; he knew what to do and what not to do during matches, but when it came to human beings, he didn’t have an idea of what he should do or what to say—and let’s be honest, he didn't care about it either. sae did love you, though. the way he looks at you proves it; the marks he would leave on your body during nights so full of lust and romance that would be capable of shedding emotional tears from aphrodite’s eyes proved it; the way he'd roll his eyes and proceed to place soft kisses on your fingers when you complained of the water being too hot after finishing washing the dishes proved it.

the engagement ring he bought for you that is hidden in a safe place where you couldn’t find it proved it.

and now there might not be a day where he could put the ring around your finger and watch you giggle like a teenager in love.

his heart weighs heavier now, almost like it’s getting ready to be swallowed by the black hole formed on his stomach. fuck. he passes his hand through his reddish brown hair, tugging a few strands.

he got out of the bed and made his way to the door of the small balcony. there you were, still in a curled up position. your sobs have stopped already but a sniff or two could be heard.

“talk to me.” the genius didn’t know exactly what his tone was. tiredness? begging? regret? i-don’t-care-at-all-stop-acting-like-this? this man sure was confusing. there was no response, the only thing that could be heard were the sounds of the leaves of the trees moving with the wind, almost mocking, not sae, but you.

the way you rolled your eyes was unknown to him.

“seriously, y/n. head inside so we can talk—”

“fuck you, itoshi, leave me alone.” your intention wasn’t to be mean to him, you didn't think before speaking—it hurt both you and him—, but sometimes harsh words were better in specific times. this is a specific time, you should have shared your thoughts a long time ago. “you wanna talk now? you usually just buy me roses without saying anything.”

“i’m trying to fix things up.”

you turned your head to look at him, a sad smile on your lips. “and i appreciate it, really, but i’m just so fucking tired, sae.” your voice broke on the word “tired”. “and you just want to talk now because i said i was thinking of breaking up with you during our fight earlier? why, sae, why…” more tears were threatening to fall, voice still breaking.

teal colored eyes darkened. you were now looking at the view in front of you. you guys lived in a really peaceful neighborhood with big, expensive houses. the view was nothing special (a few trees, a few parked cars, a park near you), but it wasn't bad either. it's not like the view mattered as long as you lived with the love of your life.

even if said love of your life could sometimes be difficult to put up with.

you remember when you started dating him and met his younger brother, who had the audacity to say with a serious face that you would regret dating your boyfriend. although you now understand the point rin was trying to make, you didn't regret being with sae; you didn't regret anything at all. and if you were to be honest, you wanted to ignore the fight and just spend the night watching a movie or something, but you had to act like a mature adult and find a better solution.

were you, though, being a mature adult by giving that response to sae when he said he wanted to talk? you were genuinely confused.

sighting and while wiping your tears, you patted the uncopied place of the sofa beside you. "ok, let's talk. sit." the man did what you told and you moved away a few centimeters to give him more space. it was… silence. a mix of comfortable and uncomfortable silence.

without looking at you, sae rested his hand on top of yours, causing you to flinch a little by surprise, but paid no mind and let him interlock his fingers with yours, your thumb now caressing his pinky finger.

"what… what do you want to say?"

"were you telling the truth earlier?"

"about me breaking up with you?" a "mhm" was his answer. "yes, i was ." by the corner of your eye you noticed he stared at you after those words. your mind couldn't decipher what his thoughts were. "i don't like being stood up on a date two times in the same month, y'know?"

the man sighted. "i was busy with practice. and i literally warned you at a good time, you just got to the place too early."

you let out a chuckle in an ironic way. "you did warn me, yes, and i wouldn't mind if it was once or twice, but enough is enough, itoshi." it was the second time of the night—scratch that, it was the second time in your entire life that you called him by his surname. even when you were only friends, you would call him by his first name or by cute, silly nicknames. the second time the word itoshi came out of your mouth, it was full of venom; venom that seemed to wrap so tightly around his heart. "i know your career is extremely important to you. i understand that and i want to support you in any way, shape and form, however, things can't keep going like this."

"i see." the reddish brown haired man looked at both your hands still together. you didn't let go of him, you didn't want to and he didn't want it either. “i understand.”

he should say something more. something more profound, more romantic, capable of making you stay, but what can the prodigy do about it? sure, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want you to stay with him, but the decision was yours and he had to take it, whether he liked it or not; whether it’d left him heartbroken or not. besides, he now understands just how much he confused you with his true feelings. you both were tired of the constant kiss and make up.

just how sae could be an egoistic on the field, he could be also one on his private life (just ask literally anybody and they will confirm).

you let go of his fingers to turn your arm so that your palm was facing upwards, in contact with his, and you interlock your fingers again. “it’s not easy for me but… i feel like it’s the best choice.”

you spent a few seconds looking into each other's eyes, until sae leaned his forehead against yours and you did the same, with your eyes closed and enjoying the cold night breeze hitting your bodies, the breeze contrasting with the bittersweet heat formed in your hearts.

“so… is it decided…”

“yes… it is.” you were glad that he respected your decision and that you discussed the matter without further discussion. “i’ll still pack my things today. in the morning i’ll call a friend and ask them to stay at their house for a few days. then i’ll see how it goes.”

“hm.”

he offered to help you pack your bags, but you refused—him helping you would only make you more emotional and rethink your decision. that night, you and your now ex-boyfriend slept on the same bed, back to back.

»»——⍟——««

"hey,” it was now the next morning and you had just gotten ready to leave the house. sae called you before you had a chance to get out the door. “do not hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

a smile formed on your lips. now that you were changing your path in life, it seemed that you just lost a heavy weight on your shoulders. sae didn't like that, but again, he was in no position to make you stay. “ thank you sae, really. the same goes for you, though. and don’t overwork yourself.”

those words and the little chuckle that followed hurt sae like a bitch. you always told him to not work himself till exhaustion, yet he always ignored you…

“well… goodbye, itoshi.” before he’d answer, you stepped out of the door, closing it behind you.

as the sound of the engine of your friend’s car starting up reached his ears, he made his way to the bedroom, to reach out for the engagement ring he bought for you. he layed on the bed, hugging the tiny ring’s box, hot tears running silently down his cheeks to the pillow.

you were gone. you were officially gone.

»»——⍟——««

tagging: @izzylovestnbhd

thank you for reading. likes, reblogs and coments are appreciated ♡

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock angst #bllk angst #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae angst #blue lock x you

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unseededtoast · 5 months

Text

Glimpse Of Us | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: After a painful breakup, you and Spencer try and move on, but find yourselves seeking out each other in different people. Inspired by "Glimpse Of Us" by Joji.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted

wc: 7.1k

content warnings: soul-crushing angst, emotional turmoil

His fingers find the velvet box in his pocket and he opens it. The ring inside is divine, he had it created just for you. The gemstone in the center reflects the warm light of his apartment beautifully as he admires it. He can't help but to imagine what it would look like on your finger, where it belongs.

As she exits the bedroom, he's quick to hide the box from her view. For the rest of the night he feels as if he's putting on a performance, one in which he half heartedly kisses her while he thinks of your lips, and he holds her with your body in mind.

-----

Closing the door behind him, Spencer is welcomed home after a long day with soft lighting and the smell of dinner. He shrugs his coat off and places it on the rack beside the door, thankful for the warm air after being in the cold most of the day.

As he takes his shoes off, he feels her arms wrap around him, her forehead resting on his back as she embraces him from behind. Spencer's eyes close in comfort, thankful for her loving ways. He turns around and hugs her back, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"I ran you a warm bath and I'll have dinner waiting for you when you get out." Her voice is soft and warm, full of nothing but the most tender love. Spencer pushes a strand of hair behind her ear with a small smile on his face,

"Thank you." He presses a second kiss to her forehead before retreating to the bedroom so he can indulge in a warm bath.

The water relaxes his tense muscles and offers a much needed reprieve. The case the team had closed today was nothing short of miserable. The air was unforgivably cold, the wind was harsh, and of course they were searching for a body for most of the day. He had wanted nothing more than to come home since the first moment he stepped foot outside this morning.

After putting on the sweats she had laid out for him on the counter, he joins her at the dinner table where a plate and a glass of wine waits for him. They eat in silence, comfortable with just the presence of each other. There's never any pressure to make conversation, they both have a mutual understanding that sometimes silence is more appreciated, especially after particularly difficult days. But what she doesn't know is that when silence settles, his mind drifts to you.

Spencer is beyond thankful for her devotion despite the chaotic life he leads. If there's one thing he can count on, it's for her to brighten his days and take the weight of the world off his shoulders when it becomes too much for him to bear. She is nothing short of perfection, a genuine blessing that Spencer is glad to have.

And because she's so perfect, it makes Spencer feel all the more guilty when he finds himself wishing it was you waiting at home for him instead of her.

The guilt has been eating at Spencer for a while now. He knows it's unfair to her, to constantly be comparing her to you but he can't quite bring himself to break up with her. It wouldn't be such a big deal if he didn't see bits and pieces of you within her. With her, he's reminded of how you laughed, the way you hugged him, and so many more small details that he just can't let her go; for if he lets her go then he would lose all of those small reminders and memories. It's selfish, he knows, but the appeal of seeing flashes of you through her is more compelling than doing what is fair for her sake.

Once dinner has been finished and cleaned up, the two of them find themselves on the couch, cuddled under green and umber colored faux fur blankets while a movie plays. But Spencer isn't really paying attention to the movie, no, his focus is on how she holds him and how it isn't quite right. Her grasp is always too loose and her hands never find the right spots. While her embrace is comforting, it's nothing compared to how you used to hold him so tight, and it all felt so right.

During a particularly quiet scene, she looks up to Spencer with doe eyes, and he can tell she's studying him, like she has him figured out down to a science.

"What's wrong honey?" She asks him, running a comforting hand up his arm. Shaking the thoughts of you from his mind, he smiles down to her with guilt creeping up within him.

"Just had a bad day." Is all he tells her. For he can never tell her the truth, that he'll never love her the way he loved you. It wouldn't be right, and none of it is her fault. He doesn't see the need to tell her he's only passing time in her arms, the ones that will never hold him the way he needs.

With big, beautiful eyes she continues to look at him, appreciating the tiny details that makes Spencer so beautiful. And while he should be appreciating her with the same loving gaze, all he can bring himself to do is think about how you used to look at him the same way.

As he looks into her eyes that look eerily similar to yours, he's catapulted into a memory, a time where things were perfect.

- - - - -

"Well why not both?" You ask Spencer, who's holding up two blankets to choose from. It's the first winter that you two are sharing together in Spencer's apartment and you both found out the hard way that even Virginia can get quite cold.

"You want them both?" He asks you, eyes glancing between the dark green and the rich brown colored blankets in his hands, both made of warm, plush material. You nod your head and motion for him to put them both in the cart.

"Yes, both of them. The colors compliment each other and they'll look right at home on the couch." A smile finds its way to your face as he places both of the blankets into the cart.

Spencer didn't need much convincing and you both knew it. All you had to do was give him the puppy eyes and he would bend to your every will. He would do anything to keep a smile on your face, and if that meant getting two blankets instead of one, then it was a small compromise he was happy to make.

Later that night the two of you sit entangled on the couch, under one of the new blankets. Spencer sat with his back against the arm rest and he had pulled you between his legs, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. Your head rested back on his chest and your eyes closed as soft music played from the vintage record player Spencer had recently bought.

Spencer savors the way you warm him, the way your body feels soft under his touch, and he appreciates the smell of vanilla that you always seem to have. He watches with adoring eyes as your chest rises and falls evenly, letting him know that you've fallen asleep. The apartment is dimly lit from a lamp, and its warm glow illuminates your features perfectly. Spencer can never get enough of just looking at you, each time he finds something new to love.

His eyes trail from the slope of your nose to the curve of your lips before noticing the way your eyelashes softly lay against the top of your cheekbones, gentle like a feather floating through the breeze. He had never seen such effortless beauty, both inside and out, and his heart feels like it could explode from trying to fit all the love he has for you within.

Kissing the crown of your head, he gently wakes you up and leads you to bed, and he can't help but smile as you hold his hand the entire way there. Your small hand fit into his like they were made for each other.

Once the two of you had settled in bed, you reach your arms around Spencer and hold him close to you. While you enjoy being held by him, you like to return the favor. You want him to come to you for comfort and security, you want to provide a loving warmth to him, to show him how much you love him when your words fall short of expressing the truth depths of your adoration.

His skin is warm under your touch and you press a soft kiss in between his shoulder blades. You're not sure if he'll be here in the morning due to work, so you hold him tight and soak in every second you get with him.

As the two of you drift off, Spencer rests his hand atop yours that rests just below his chest, not able to get enough of you tonight. There was something in the air this evening that made Spencer realize that you are the love of his life, and he wants to spend every night with your arms around him.

- - - - -

Snapping out of his daydream, Spencer realizes that the movie had come to an end. His hand lingers on the blanket for just a moment longer than necessary before he heads to bed, where she is sure to join him soon. He gets underneath the covers, his hand resting on the empty space beside him. His chest aches and he bites the inside of his cheek to stop from getting emotional as she walks in, a sleepy smile on her face.

Spencer goes through the motions of bidding her a goodnight before he turns away from her. He doesn't know if he's disgusted with himself for thinking of you while she lays next to him, or if he's sad he let another woman take your spot. As her hand makes its way around his waist, he's unable to stop the single tear that drips down his cheek.

He waits for her to fall asleep before he slinks out of bed. He puts his shoes on and shrugs on his coat before leaving. The walls of his apartment seem to be closing in on him tonight, and perhaps he needs some fresh air. Snow flurries fall as he walks the empty streets, illuminated by street lamps and starlight.

Spencer wipes his eyes of the tears that form in his lash line and sniffles every few seconds. He has no destination in mind, but he know where his body will take him. It's the same place he goes every time, the spot where he met you.

The bench is covered in a light layer of snow along with everything else in the park. He's unable to tear his eyes away from the spot he first saw you at, as if you would suddenly appear out of thin air. Spencer remembers very vividly the day he met you. He was at the park playing chess, trying to get better so he could finally beat Gideon, when he saw you.

You had your nose buried in a mystery novel, your hair was partially pinned back so it wouldn't get in your way, and you had the prettiest sundress on that complimented your skin tone wonderfully. Spencer had never been one to believe in love at first sight until he saw you. He swears that day the sunlight was focused on you alone, as everything else became utterly dull.

And Spencer had never been one to go out of his way to talk to a woman, but something within him told him that if he didn't seize this opportunity then he would regret it. So he pushed himself out of his comfort zone and talked to you. You were the sweetest woman ever, and he's still surprised to this day that you had given him your number after he babbled and rambled trying to get to the point.

What he wouldn't give to be able to go back and do it all over again.

- - - - -

Three months after you had left Spencer he found himself once again being interrogated about his love life by his coworkers. They mean well, and he knows it, but he wishes they would stop bringing the topic up, because every time they do it's like reopening the wound. But he doesn't want to concern anyone with how poorly he's actually handling the separation, they all have their own issues just as he does.

"You sure you're ready for that date?" Derek asked him one Friday afternoon, asking about the blind date he had set up for Spencer.

"Of course I am, I think I'm finally moving on, and I'm sure she's lovely." Spencer smiles to Derek, but there's a bitter taste on his tongue.

There's no chance that this mystery woman could ever compare to you. But he tells everyone he's moved on from you so that they might stop bringing you up in conversation. Though he knows that you had made friends with his coworkers as well and he knows they probably miss you too. But for his own sanity, Spencer had to find a way to keep them from speaking about you; and what better way to do that than date someone new?

But while Spencer was busy acting like he had moved on, it seems that you actually had.

A year after you had left, against his better judgment, Spencer looked you up to see how you were doing. He had refrained from doing so up to this point, but he couldn't help himself. He had to know, he had to see you.

What he found devastated him. On your Instagram was a photo of you and a man, cheeks pressed against each other's with wide smiles. The first thing Spencer noticed was how your smile finally reached your eyes again, how you looked genuinely happy. A look he hadn't seen in a long time.

But he couldn't stop there, he had to know more. He had to make sure that this man wasn't some psychopath. And it turns out he seems to be the embodiment of the American dream. Spencer found that your new man works in wealth management, owns his own property with a fenced in yard, and appears to be head over heels in love with you.

The man's social media is cluttered with photos of you. You smile in each one as if you were seeing color for the first time. Spencer goes through his photos, looking at vacations you took to Europe, evenings spent on a boat, and every small detail in between that the man had posted about. Spencer had to put his phone away after he saw a picture of you in the man's lap, his hands on your waist as he kissed your cheek while you smiled at the camera.

Spencer thinks often about how the man treats you. He wonders if the new man appreciates your tender touch, your kind heart, if he cherishes you like he used to. Spencer can't help but to ponder if your new man gives you everything he couldn't; if he comes back home to you every night and if the two of you plan to have a family one day.

And when those thoughts get to be too painful, Spencer wonders if you ever think of him. He hopes that you search for pieces of him in your new man, even in just the most minuscule details. Sometimes with this hope comes along the thought of if you will ever come back to Spencer.

But that hope is usually crushed with the realization that you're living in a new chapter, one in which he will never have the privilege to read.

- - - - -

The sweet smell of blueberry pancakes wafts through the house and wakes you. You take a deep breath of the fruity scent and stretch, enjoying the way that today has started. There are definitely worse ways to wake up. Instead of getting up right away, you opt to stay snuggled under the warm covers, your eyes closed as you breathe in the sugary sweetness.

"Good morning honey." You hear your boyfriend open the door, his voice deep and raspy from the night. At the sound of his voice, you can't help but to open your eyes and smile at him.

"What's the occasion?" You stretch once more as he walks over to you, looking down at you with doting eyes.

"Oh I don't know, I think it might be someone's birthday. Yeah, I think I remember someone telling me that the most beautiful girl in the world has a birthday today." He leans down and presses a kiss to your lips, the taste of blueberries lingering between you.

"You didn't have to make me breakfast." You sit up, pushing the covers away so you can go enjoy the pancakes that were so lovingly made. Your boyfriend only smiles wider,

"Don't worry this is just the beginning. I've got a whole day planned for you, baby." You try to fight the smile, not wanting him to know just how excited you are.

The two of you eat pancakes together at the table, your heart swelling with love from his gesture. Both of you know he's not the best cook in the world, but to you these are the best pancakes you've ever had. In fact, they could be burnt to a crisp and you would love every bite because he took the time to try and do something nice for you, and it's the effort you appreciate above all.

Licking syrup off your lip, your eyes find themselves fixated on your boyfriend's face and you can't help but be mesmerized. His eyes are kind and gentle, his smile is wide and welcoming, and you just don't know if you will ever get enough of him.

Though a tiny voice makes itself known in the back of your mind and it reminds you of just why you find your boyfriend to be so beautiful.

But you try your best to ignore the voice that whispers to you from within your own mind. You don't want to hear how your boyfriend's hair is the same shade of brown or how his eyes hold the same hue of green that Spencer's did. The voice works diligently to remind you that your boyfriend's hands don't feel the same and that his lips aren't as soft, and you wish that it would just stop. Everything would be so much easier if you could just forget Spencer Reid even exists, but no matter how hard you try you can never silence the whispers.

You'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't still think of Spencer sometimes. Especially during the early days of your new relationship. When you first got together with your new boyfriend you were constantly reminded of Spencer. Your new boyfriend shared many features with Spencer such as his height, build, and hair color and you know it's no coincidence. You know full well that you gravitated to your new boyfriend because of these similarities, you were desperate to hold onto any part of Spencer that you could.

But your new boyfriend is different from Spencer in a lot of ways as well. He's more headstrong, he doesn't think things through as well, and he can't read you quite like Spencer could. But despite these differences you found yourself loving him for who he is.

Your new boyfriend practically worships the ground you walk on. He's entirely devoted to you and he reminds you every day of how much he loves you. He comes home at the same time every night, he's here when you need him to be, and just recently has opened up to you about one day possibly starting a family. He's everything you've ever wanted.

It had taken some time to adjust to something new and unfamiliar but it was worth it. You had been hesitant to get into another relationship, worried that you wouldn't be able to love anyone as much as you loved Spencer. It would be entirely unfair to the other person, and so you had asked your current boyfriend for patience; and this man had no problems waiting. In fact, you were convinced he would wait until the end of times if you had asked him to.

He was never overbearing, never pressured you for an answer or to go on a date before you were ready. Instead, the two of you built a friendship first. You would go for coffee on Saturday mornings, walks in the park after work, and even played a few rounds of mini golf. It was in those small moments that you found yourself falling head over heels for the man and eventually you felt that you were ready.

After a few months of being together, he had insisted you join him on a business trip to Europe. At first you didn't really know, you were nervous about being somewhere unfamiliar, but you trusted him to take care of you. And you're glad you went, it was the best trip you had ever been on. Your boyfriend treated you to candlelit dinners, a gondola ride, and the most tender, pure love possible. For the first time in a long time, you felt happy and it was all because of him.

Your mind drifts from memories of Europe to the conversation about starting a family. You remember the conversation almost word for word and you find yourself reflecting on it more than what is probably normal. But you can't help yourself, that conversation had opened your eyes about your true desires and left you feeling conflicted about a lot of things you still don't have the answers to.

- - - - -

It was a bright Sunday afternoon and you strolled down the street with your boyfriend hand in hand, enjoying the warm weather and freshness of spring. The grass was finally coming back to life, the trees were blooming, and flowers were beginning to pop up again.

"I want to ask you something, but you don't have to answer if you don't want to." Your boyfriend uncharacteristically stumbles over his words as the two of you veer off to a less busy path.

"You can ask me anything." You truthfully tell him, wanting him to know that he can come to you about anything. After all, there's nothing he can throw at you that would catch you off guard after your years with Spencer and the stories he would come home with.

"Have you ever thought about having kids someday?" Your pace slows down as his words sink in. You weren't quite sure what you were expecting him to ask, but it certainly wasn't that.

Instead of answering right away, you stop walking completely and look at your boyfriend, seeing nothing but complete seriousness and curiosity written all over his face. Your eye catches his, and your heart sinks when you see a flash of Spencer's eyes in your mind. Blinking away the fleeting image, you sigh and think about how to answer his question.

"I think some day, with the right person, I would most definitely want kids." Your answer is the complete truth, and yet you find yourself feeling guilty for not immediately imagining yourself having kids with your boyfriend, but instead with Spencer.

"Some day." A smile finds its way onto your boyfriend's face and he squeezes your hand lovingly.

Pushing the guilt and all thoughts of Spencer aside, you focus on what you have right in front of you. You have a boyfriend who loves you unconditionally, who wants nothing but the best for you, who you can see yourself spending forever with.

Yet despite loving him back and wanting a future with him, there's still a piece of your soul that yearns for Spencer.

- - - - -

After a long day of birthday celebration, you find yourself laying in bed waiting for your boyfriend to join you. The day had been filled with family and friends and it was probably one of the best birthdays you've had in a long time. But ever since this morning, the voice in the back of your mind hasn't let up.

While you were opening gifts you couldn't help but wonder what Spencer would've picked out. When your boyfriend asked you what top he should wear to best match the rest of the outfit you found yourself wondering what Spencer would've picked. During the drive to your friend's house you considered which songs Spencer would've played on the trip over. You hadn't really thought of Spencer much over the past year, seeing as how happy you were with your boyfriend, but lately you find Spencer infiltrating your thoughts more and more.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you give into temptation and grab your phone. Quickly, you look Spencer up on what limited social media presence he has. Your heart races as his profile loads, unsure of what you're going to see and what you want to see. The photos load and you realize he still hasn't posted anything since the photo you posted for him years ago.

You tap on the tagged photos tab and can't help the heaviness in your chest as you see a photo he was tagged in three months ago. He's got his arms wrapped around a gorgeous woman, her lips pressed to the side of his cheek. Within an instant, your mind replaces the woman's face with your own and you feel your throat begin to close up with emotion. The caption is something cliche about love, and with the same quickness as you had clicked on the photo, you exit out of the app.

It seems Spencer has moved on from you, and you're happy for him. You hope she can handle his lifestyle better than you could, but you can't help but feel sad that he was able to replace you. A tinge of regret takes residence in you for giving him the opportunity to replace you.

- - - - -

Spencer looks in the mirror as he straightens his tie and runs his hand through his hair once more. The velvet box in his pocket makes his heart hammer but the sound of her voice knocks him out of an anxiety-ridden spiral.

"We're going to be late, come on." She says with a smile on her face. Spencer knows he should be just as excited but the nerves take precedence.

The two of them enter the dimly lit restaurant and take their seat. The tablecloth is white, there's a candle in the middle of the table. Spencer knows it's the perfect time to propose. After all, today is their second anniversary.

She talks openly about what she's going to order and how she knows the food is going to be delightful. Spencer does his best to smile and nod, trying to calm his trembling fingers. He had considered proposing for a few months now and decided tonight would be perfect.

After the waiter comes and takes their orders, Spencer reaches across the table and takes her hands within his. Her skin is soft and smooth, but as he rubs his thumb across the back of her hand he remembers how delicate your skin used to feel under his touch.

Guilt intermingles with the nerves, and he feels disgusted with himself that even as he's about to propose he thinks of you. And the guilt is reinforced when he remember who he bought the ring for in the first place, it most certainly wasn't her.

Delaying the question, Spencer keeps making small talk until the food arrives. He takes glances over to her, and she always smiles back. And Spencer tries his best to act normal, but he knows he's failing.

For every time he looks at her all he can see is you. Every time he looks into her eyes he sees yours, he remembers how you used to gaze at him for what seemed like hours. Each time she pushes her hair behind her shoulder he remembers how yours used to always look effortlessly perfect. Even the shade of her lipstick brings him back to a memory when you wore a similar shade.

She laughs at a poor joke he made, and the sound of her laughter is replaced with yours in Spencer's mind. He realizes then that he can't possibly ask her to marry him.

When the two of them arrive back at the apartment, she rushes off to change into something more comfortable and Spencer hangs back in the kitchen, taking a seat at the dining table.

- - - - -

"Where are you going?" Spencer steps in front of her, blocking her path. He had returned home only an hour earlier to find that she had packed all of her things and called her friend to pick her up. She looks back up at him, and he clearly sees the disdain in her eyes.

"I can't do this anymore Spencer. I don't know what happened or what I did wrong, but I can tell you don't love me, and you haven't for a while." Her words shock him, but he can't find it within himself to contradict what she's saying; she's right after all.

"You didn't do anything, I'm sorry." Is all he's able to offer her as he steps aside and lets her go. She shakes her head, tears gleaming in her eyes as she grabs the handle of her last bag and leaves without looking back.

Spencer is left alone in his apartment and he bites his cheek as he looks around. She had taken everything she owned, not a trace remains. While he should feel devastated that she left him, he only feels relieved. The guilt that's been eating him alive for years is finally gone and he knows that this was the best possible outcome for her; he hopes she can find someone who cherishes her the way she deserves.

His eyes fall on the blanket draped over the back of the couch and suddenly this situation feels all too familiar. Spencer is unable to tear his eyes away from the blanket as his mind reminds him in perfect detail the most painful day of his life.

- - - - -

"Spencer, move. Let me go." Your voice is firm but it wavers as you finish the sentence. You had your last bag in your hand and you had hoped to be out of here before Spencer got back home.

"No, please don't do this. Please don't go." Spencer begs you as tears fall down his cheeks. Pained by his sadness, a tear falls down your own. You so desperately wish you could stay, that things could work between the two of you.

"Maybe if things were different I could stay." You say, using your free hand to wipe you eyes.

Before you can be convinced to stay, you step around Spencer and head out the door, leaving behind the best and worst days. When you hear the door shut behind you, you're unable to stop the onslaught of tears that flow down your face as you go to your car parked alongside the curb. The last bag gets carelessly tossed in your car before you drive off.

Spencer watches from his window as you leave, your car disappearing into the night. He collapses against the wall and sobs. It doesn't feel real, he can't wrap his mind around the fact that you had actually left.

Hours later he finds the will the stand up and he sniffles the entire way to the bedroom where there's a crisp white paper laid on his pillow. Spencer turns on a light before he grabs the paper and before he reads a single word he notices how some of the ink is smudged, like tear drops had fallen before it had time to dry.

Soon enough, his tear drops fall onto the paper as well. Each word is like a dagger to his heart and yet he reads it over and over and over again.

Spencer,

By the time you read this, I won't be here. Please don't come looking for me. We both knew things weren't going well for a long time, and I didn't see any way we could compromise. It's not fair to you and it wasn't fair to me to stay, we would drive each other to endless misery at some point if something didn't give.

I wish things could have been different for us, but I just couldn't handle it anymore. We both want different things and that's okay. You love your job and it was unfair of me to try and persuade you to pursue something else for my sake, and for that I am sorry. It would've been nice to have you home every night, to know that you could be here for the big and small moments of life. But I understand that that way of life isn't something you're made for, and that's okay too. I'm sorry I'm not built for the life you lead, I tried my best for as long as I could.

You will always have a piece of my heart for as long as I shall live. I wish you nothing but the best. You've got a lot to offer the world, my beautiful Spencer Reid.

I love you, always.

His heart may as well have been ripped from his chest and shattered into a million irreparable pieces. As he reads and rereads your words he can't believe that you blamed yourself, that you felt the need to apologize for wanting a normal life.

He recalls the first time you had asked him about a career change. To him it came out of nowhere, but when he really starts to think about it, he should've seen it coming. There were times he would come home and your eyes would be just a little bloodshot and your cheeks would be unusually red. Of course you told him it was just allergies, but the pictures of you two scattered over the coffee table should've told him it was something else entirely.

The texts asking him if he would be home for your birthday were answered with a negative, along with the questions about Christmas, Valentines Day, and just about every other occasion. He wanted to be there with you, there's no place he would have rather been, but the job required him to be across the country more times than not. He should've realized that you had stopped asking those questions a year ago.

His memory allows him to see into the past, and as it's said, hindsight is 20/20. The last year of the relationship he often found himself coming home to you already in bed, when you used to stay up and wait for him. Perhaps you had been so accustomed to disappointment that you had assumed something would come up and that he wouldn't be home when he told you he would.

Within those memories he also notices how sad you seemed. Though he didn't see it at the time, he sees now how your smile stopped reaching your eyes and you stopped trying to plan things for the two of you to do on his days off. Instead of going out, you told him that you just wanted to spend time with him.

There's a particular memory that comes to the forefront of his mind, about a month before you left he remembers the two of you on the couch. You had snuggled into his side, head resting on his shoulder as the two of you watched a movie. He really hadn't been paying attention, he was focused on how warm you were, how he was happy he could finally be here with you. But if he had been following the movie, he would've seen that you turned it off just before the happy ending where the two characters lived out the rest of their days together. He should've noticed then how the tip of your nose turned red and how you wiped your eyes, claiming it was just from being tired.

His chest aches deeply as he understands the pain he's put you through. All you wanted was him, and he had let you slip right through his fingers without even realizing.

For days, weeks, and months after you left Spencer finds himself sleeping with the blanket you had picked out, for it's the last piece of yourself that you left him with. And after a while, your scent faded, but the memories remain.

And ever since, he found himself chasing anything that could give him even just the smallest reminder of you. He only hopes that one day your paths will cross again and that you will find your way back where you belong; back to him.

- - - - -

The room feels colder and darker than usual. There's no sweet smell of pancakes floating in the air, there's nobody next to you to keep you warm. No, all of those comforts had left a week ago. The moment in which everything crumbled replays constantly in your mind.

In front of you, your boyfriend dropped to one knee and held out a glistening ring. With tears in his eyes, he poured his heart out to you, speaking about how he's beyond in love with you and that he wants to grow old with you. That there's nobody else on this Earth he can imagine coming home to, holding close, and cherishing dearly.

You could almost hear his heart break as you told him that you couldn't marry him. And not two days later, he had moved out without speaking a single word to you. Everything you spent years building, gone in an instant. But what haunts you the most is the look in his eye, it's the same despair you saw in Spencer's when you had left him.

But you knew you had made the right decision not to marry your boyfriend. You loved him deeply, but after the conversation about starting a family you realized that you didn't want that future with anyone but Spencer. But that future isn't a possibility, you're keenly aware of that. So it seems you're destined to live out your days reminiscing about Spencer Reid.

With time you know you had forgotten some of the memories and it's when you try to remember them that you find yourself wishing you had Spencer's memory. By now you figure he's done his best to bury the memory of you while you try to dig yours back up.

There's one memory you cling to the most, and when sorrow begins swallowing you whole, you relive that memory, wanting to go back in time and live in that moment forever.

It was a chilly fall day, the leaves had just started to turn colors. Spencer and you had been together just shy of a week but it seemed like neither of you could get enough of one another. In every second of free time you two had, you were together. He explained that his job required him to travel a lot, but you didn't really mind, he was worth waiting for.

The two of you walked with intertwined hands through the park where you met, and take a seat on the bench. Spencer wanted to come by after the date he planned, a cozy coffee cafe with your favorite pastries. You had never experienced someone taking an interest in you, and your heart felt full knowing he went out of his way to learn what you liked.

With lovestruck eyes, you look over at him and brush his cheekbone with your free hand, wanting to memorize every detail of him. His skin is smooth, eyes the most brilliant shades of earthy tones, and of course his chocolate curls had you swooning.

You see his eyes dance between yours and your lips, and before you could comprehend what was happening, he pulled you close and kissed you. Your hands had found their way to his face, cradling his jaw as he held your waist.

And as you pulled away you couldn't help the smile that found its way to your face. You had never been one to believe in falling in love so soon after meeting someone, but something about Spencer felt different. It was like your souls were meant for each other, there was an undeniable chemistry from the start. And though you wouldn't say it for another few months, you knew in this moment that you were helplessly in love with Spencer Reid.

But instead of leading a fulfilling life with him by your side, you find yourself utterly alone.

Eventually you make your way into the living room, which now has half of the furniture it did a few days ago. But you don't care, you convinced yourself that it was for the best, and that your now-ex deserves someone better than yourself, someone who wasn't still in love with the person who came before.

You decide to get out of the house and take a walk with no particular destination. The fresh air will hopefully make you feel better. Your mind is anywhere but the present and you hadn't realized that you had made your way to the park. The same one that holds too many bittersweet memories.

But instead of walking somewhere else, you continue on. You hadn't come back here since you left Spencer but it feels right. Lately you've found yourself considering trying to find him again, but ultimately you decide against it, recalling the words you left for him and the fact that it looks like he's found someone new. You love him too much to disrupt what love and peace he may have found.

Taking the familiar path you find yourself walking to the bench where Spencer first introduced himself to you, the bench that had started everything.

As you round the bend you see an older couple sitting there in the very spot you had all those years ago. The woman has her arm linked with the man's and the two of them laugh about something. The sunlight glints off of their wedding bands and you look away as they lean in to kiss each other. Walking by them, you offer a polite smile despite the turmoil you feel inside. They meet your eye as you pass and return your smile with warmth and happiness.

This trip down memory lane leaves you feeling like you had just seen a bit of what your future with Spencer could have looked like, the two of you grey-haired but still head over heels for each other.

But you know that can never be a reality, and so you'll have to find a way to settle for the fleeting glimpse you caught.

-----

Part Two

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bidisasterevankinard · 13 days

Note

for the prompts can you do 1 and 8 I feel like they fit so good together

Nonnie, it's a little got way from me (1211 words) because I have strong Tommy feels so. here you are(I know it's not just fluff and I'm so sorry)

Sometimes there are days Tommy just doesn’t want to get up from the bed. It can be simply because he is exhausted after a long and hard shift or because it’s rainy, and cool wind, which walks all around, makes his bones and old wounds ache. Those days are pretty easy to get through. Just take it easy, take painkillers, make sure you’re warm and watch Love, Actually in bed with cocoa. Simple and comfy.

But they're also days when he can’t get out of bed, not because of a little pain, or at least it’s not because of physical pain. There are days in his life when his head attacks him with memories of the army, or bad calls, or all the years he was looking for someone to love him, and, most importantly, for a reason to love himself. Because there were more than enough days he was rough, rude and just simply awful to himself. And all this darkness around him forever found a place in his heart and head, mainly staying low, being overpowered by his self-growth and reasons he founds to love himself anyway, by hanging outs with Eddie, sometimes with Chim and even Hen, and of course, by dates and smiles of Evan.

Evan, this adorable dork, found the way to give him the sun to light his life enough that darkness is scared to get out. But it still is waiting for the moment when he will be too distracted and unprotected to hit again.

Like today.

Yesterday was … a lot. He accidentally met his mother on the market where he went to get some good groceries for the meal he was planning to cook for Evan to make him feel good after the shift. The literal bumping into each other near the vegetables quickly became a screaming match, mostly from his mother’s part, because Tommy way long before stopped to try to to prove that just because he likes men, doesn't mean he's a bad person, or son, or chose the wrong way. Eventually, he just ran away from there.

Then the dish he tried to make burned because he was too distracted crying in his bathroom. He had to order take out.

And then Evan texted him that he couldn't come tonight because they had a long and hard call, and the only thing he wanted was to fall into his bed.They changed plans from a little dinner together yesterday to spending all day together today.

Yesterday ended as awful as it was all day. The nightmare of one of his close calls made him sleep badly after, turning half the night in his bed, trying to get the best position for sleeping, but not succeeding for more than two hours.

So, here he is, miserable and alone in his bed, looking at the clock which shows him that Evan will be here in less than five minutes, but he is still in his bed, in his the most comfy, but really old hoodie and boxers.

Tommy kind of wishes Evan would text him now and rain check again, not wanting to drag the man into his mess, but of course as he thinks about this, Evan opens the door.

“Hey, sleepy beauty, I brought us coffee and your favorite burgers from this cafe you like so much,” Evan’s voice, as always sunny as his face and smile, spreads throughout the small house.

The sound of the sneakers being taken off, then steps to the, as Tommy suspects kitchen, as next he hears sounds of the plates taken out. Next he hears footsteps again and then his bedroom’s door is open, to reveal his boyfriend in his dark skin jeans and burgundy hoodie, Tommy pretty sure Evan was wearing during the tour.

“Hey,” Evan smiles at him, putting plates and coffee on his nightstand, and sits down near his face, putting his hand to stroke his hair.

Tommy will never admit he melts into the touch. But he melts and ready to purr like a kitten being pet.

“Are you having a blanket burrito day?”

“Blanket burrito day?”

“Yeah. I call the bad days, when I can’t get out of the bed because of my leg or because of bad mood, or both, ‘blanket burrito day’,” Evan kisses his forehead. “Are you having this today or you just want me to jump into your bed?” his boyfriend smirks and winks at him and Tommy smiles a little too.

He knows he can joke about that. Say that yes, it was his way to get Evan into his bed and maybe make out or even something more, but he doesn’t want something like that.

He needs someone to hold him. Just hold him and show him he’s not alone and it will get better.

“Can you hug me?” Tommy doesn't like how small his voice sounds and he hates how quick he folded looking at his boyfriend who with one glance knew he was having a bad day. “If-if it’s ok.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course it’s ok. I love cuddles,” Evan smiles at him, taking his jeans off and lying down behind him, putting his hands around his waist.

He makes sure Tommy can feel himself touching every part of Evan’s big body behind him and Tommy wants to cry from the feeling of being safe. Protected. Loved.

They stay like that for half an hour, not talking and Tommy breaks the silence, needing to know.

“You don’t ask questions. Why am I having a bad day? What happened?,” Tommy plays with Evan’s fingers on his waist, “Or you are not even trying to tell me to stop. You aren’t telling me to male up,” he whispers it but in silence and with how close they are he knows Evan hears him.

Hands on his waist only squeeze tighter and then he feels a careful little kiss on his neck.

“We all have bad days. Especially on our job, with everything we saw. It’s normal to have them and you deserve to let yourself be sad if you feel it without trying to move on. You deserve someone to take care of you. And the reason for your bad mood isn’t so important for me to find out, if you don’t want to talk right now. You can do it on your time. Just,” Evan turns them so he can look him in the eyes. Blue to blue. “Don’t push me away. I want to be here, with you not just on good days. I want bad days too. Because you can’t live without them. But,” Evan smiles at him and kisses him so chaste Tommy wants to cry, “you can be not alone. Especially on bad days. You can share the pain with your person, making the burden easy to bear.”

Tommy just nods and lets himself get comfortable in Evan’s hands, feeling how slumber takes over him because the warmth from Evan and his breath lull him into sleep.

“I’ll tell you after the sleep,” Tommy mumbles before falling asleep.

“Take your time, baby,” Tommy feels the kiss on his shoulder, “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tommy knows it’s not the promise only about today.

read on ao3

prompts

#my fics #evan buckley #911 #evan buck buckley #911 abc #tommy kinard #tuck #bucktommy #tevan #kinkley #911 on abc #bucktommy fic #buck x tommy #buck buckley #9 1 1 #evan buck buckely #911 show

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srbachchan · 2 months

Text

DAY 5865

Jalsa, Mumbai Mar 9/10, 2024 Sat/Sun 12:56 AM

🪔 ,

March 10 .. birthday greetings to Ef Monika Jain from Bhopal .. love from the Ef Family always .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️

Birthday - EF - Altaf Ali Kondkar Saturday, 9 March .. which was done yesterday

The miserable loss was avenged this night ( last night ) by Majhi Mumbai in a most convincing and determined manner ..

the FIGHT most evident .. and the spirit alive and enduring ..

I LIKE .. 🕺

💪

we watch Father and Son .. the team when we lost .. and then we WIN ..

YEEEEEAAAAHHHHHH ..

COME ONNNNNNNNN ..

🕺

wins and losses .. the struggles of our living .. they depress and bring pain and suffering .. and the next moment we win , so emphatically .. and the joys ..

does anticipation of a defeat or loss or the pain coming , be welcome .. it could be if it is known that the next day shall be normal and with its exhilaration of success and victory .. it is the uncertainty that kills ..

having known and experienced the pain before .. its anticipation, for its coming again is such a fear .. and that is what destroys all the desire for exaltation and delight to be in the joys of life again ..

Why are we tested each day .. ?

And the philosophical response shall be the obvious :

"जब तक जीवन है तब तक संघर्ष है" .. so long as there is life there shall be struggle ..

the wise words of Babuji when I confided one day to him, when I was not getting anywhere in the profession, that 'बड़ा struggle है' .. that there is a lot of struggle .. and he said the above 👆🏼

Accept it .. sleep with it .. get up in the morning and be in awareness that you still breathe ..

My love

Amitabh Bachchan

... the battles of life can be a sword in your hand , but a shield and a mind of fragrant flowers .. !!

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raccoonfallsharder · 2 months

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I just found out Rockets VA can sing (really good actually) do you have any headcanons based on that?

mmmmm. sorry for the delay, i got distracted by rocket prompt week and also by thinking about rocket crooning in your ear.

he’s always humming, you know? (this is not a headcanon — it’s in the movies.) he’s often humming while he works. and that scene on berhert? where he’s sort of purring along with the music while plotting severe injury to the incoming ravagers? i…

sorry. focusing.

im sure the first few times you hear him mumbling lyrics under his breath, you damn near need to excuse yourself. you know you can’t call attention to it — in a best-case scenario, he'll stop singing entirely. you say nothing, and your silence is rewarded: rocket's mumbling a tune — so low your toes curl in your boots — almost whenever the two of you are working quietly on some project or another. most of the time, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. the rest of the time, he thinks you can’t hear him.

once, while the entire crew was dicking around in the common room and rocket started humming under his breath, pete had commented on it. you'd shot him a murderous look but it had been too late: rocket’s ears had gone flat and his tail had tucked between his ankles and his eyes had swiveled around the room. he'd been shifting and snapping out harsh words so frantically that you were sure he was scarlet under his fur. you’d had to go a miserable dozen cycles before you’d stumbled across him lilting low to himself again in the engine room one night.

fuckin pete. you still haven’t forgiven that guy.

but things get easier — at least between you and rocket — after that. there's a day when rocket looks up and realizes that you can hear him — maybe you're swaying slightly to the sound of his voice, or lightly tapping the soft pads of your fingertips like raindrops on your knee. he stumbles to a fumbling halt. you don’t say anything, though: you just pass him an encouraging half-smile before returning to whatever you were doing. you’ll hang out with him regardless of whether you get to lull yourself to the sound of his deep, pretty voice or not, you figure.

it happens again — and then again. and eventually, rocket stops stopping. he sees you walk into the otherwise-empty common area while he’s clanging away on some new cannon, or you slide into the seat next to him while he’s piloting the bowie alone — and he tosses you a little smirk and keeps going, keeps humming those bars or rumbling those words up over his ribs and out the corners of his mouth.

you’re not the first person he’s sung to, of course.

there’s a reason groot loves music. when he was just a sprout, rocket would carefully place groot's small pot right next to where he lay his own head, and he’d croon a lullaby from star-lord’s library of songs. this was how the little flora colossus first learned to fall asleep — and how he woke up — every rotation for the first dozen cycles of his life. even when groot got a little bigger and could leave his pot and run around chasing orloni, he’d still drift off sprawled on rocket’s shoulder or across the top of his head: dozing to the sound of his father clinking away on aero-rigs while humming some melody or another.

even before that — i think rocket probably sung to groot the elder, too, at least once or twice. maybe the first time rocket had seen the big guy lose his limbs, before he'd learned that they would grow back. rocket had promised tibius lark that he’d look out for the flora colossus, and now here's groot — mutilated and in pain. rocket had tried to soothe the groaning, moaning groot to sleep, wracked by guilt before eventually realizing the big idiot was just a giant frickin’ crybaby with limbs that would essentially regenerate.

still, rocket hadn’t minded singing to his friend too much after that.

maybe even earlier, too. maybe there had been a time, after explaining music to his cagemates but before telling them about flying machines. maybe he’d hummed for batch 89 too.

they would’ve thought his childish voice was the most comforting, lovely thing they’d ever heard, i think. sometimes, as you might guess, the members of batch 89 would have nightmares or be in too much pain to close their eyes and rest, and when those nights happened, rocket would have hummed them back to sleep, all low and slow and sweet.

floor would have begged for songs every chance she got. teefs would have marveled at how beautiful rocket had sounded, and lylla — lylla would have told him, very solemnly, that he had a gift.

rocket doesn't think about that very often — tries not to think about those days at all, if he's being honest — but eventually, as you know, his past comes out. it's long after he’s gotten comfortable with you, of course — and raised his son, and saved half the universe, and purchased the skull of a god, and freed himself from the high evolutionary for the last time, and become a captain, but now—

now, he remembers lylla's words.

the star children descend from the arête and different households try to take them in, but it only takes one or two failed sleep-shifts across all of knowhere before it becomes apparent that none of the kids can rest. the children have nightmares — of course they do — and they’re used to sleeping shoulder-to-shoulder with each other in cages, on hard floors. they're used to whispering stories and comforts to each other, listening gratefully to the quiet words of their siblings, small hands gripping small hands in the darkness.

it takes a while to figure out, but eventually arrangements are made — at least until the kids can adjust. spaces are shifted so the children can nest together, and it helps — mostly. drax tries telling stories. cosmo recommends warm milk. howard suggests a quarter-shot of ginsky for each kid (you promptly put the kibosh on that one). nebula comes one night to tell the kids in great detail how she’ll destroy anyone who dares to harm them. you’re so happy mantis went on her journey to find herself but sometimes, when you see how exhausted and hollow-eyed the kids are in the morning, you just wish she were back so she could help them sleep.

and then suddenly it's a few cycles later, and you realize you haven’t heard any more concerns about the kids’ night terrors. you look around and realize they’re bright-eyed again, cheeks glowing, chattering at breakfast. curious as to what ended up working — if it was the indigarran lavender satchets sent by one of kraglin’s ex-wives or it it was the broker boring them with the droning details of the histories of various artifacts he’d once had in his shop on Xandar — you come visiting one night on tip-toe, just to check in.

rocket’s there — curled up on an old armchair someone had brought in for the neverending parade of storytellers and caregivers. his voice rolls over the sleepy children, and their eyelashes droop while he lingers on some notes and skips up and down others. the sound of it curls around them — and you. his voice nestles into the shadows, practically plucking up the edges of the blankets and tucking the kids in all on its own.

you watch as, handful after handful, they drift: eased deeply into dreaming by the power and protection of the captain’s voice, all on its own.

#rfh headcanons #rfh fluff #rocket raccoon #rocket raccoon headcanons #rocket raccoon fanfic #rocket raccoon fanfiction #rocket raccoon fluff #rocket raccoon x reader #gotg fanfiction #gotg rocket #rocket gotg #rocket raccoon x you #rocket racoon x reader #rocket x you #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #mcu #marvel

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fictionalslvr · 7 months

Text

SYNOPSIS: You decided to spent your deserved vacation on a village on the coast of Italy, but you didn't expected to fall in love with the lodge owner son.

PAIRING: Italian¡Leon x older F¡Reader

WORD COUNT: 6.019k

WARNINGS: Age gap of 9 years (Reader is 31 and Leon is 22), older reader. Poorly translated italian, fluffy, romance, shy¡Leon, son of a lodge owner¡Leon. Suggestive, suggestion of jerking off, description of arousal ect

NOTES: i spent one week on this one, actually smashing my head to write all that i wanted. And it's not everything yet, so if you guys like, i may do a second part.

I live in a city builded with Italians, so there's a lot of the Italian culture around here, there's some things that i can assure that is true, but i do NOT speak Italian, i only know a few words and things about the cultures with the descendants i talked with.

Highly inspired by this bot right here || There's a playlist that's not mine who's very good with the vibes of this fic, so listen to it while reading if you like.

You needed a rest. Not only mentally, but physically too. Months after months of hard work made your whole body sore, your wrists were a tad red and irritated because of the paperwork you do all day at your job. Sitting down all day wasn’t helping your stance too, you felt like an old lady everytime you’re home, grumbling about pain all over your back, but couldn’t do anything to ease it. For days now, you felt like a deadpan, nothing could cheer up your mood, not even going out with some friend to relieve the stress. In fact, when you tried to do that, you slept on the table of the bar you came with your friends, after a few sips on a beer. The dizziness spoke louder than your conscious, and without noticing, your elbows were hiding your face as you snored softly. Your friends, Jill and Claire, had to carry you back to your house. Not even a bit of enjoyment from your part in that day. Thank goodness you had your friends around to take care of you, your mood was shitty these days, and even with that, they tried to light it up. At least, they tried, and you’re happy to see that the two girls truly care about you.

Even now, you can’t escape your job, you’re talking about that miserable thing that was burying you deeply into a bad state of grumpiness with Jill, late at night laying in your bed with your short pajamas, even when you know that you need to wake up early next morning. All tucked in your blankets because the cold came without a warning a few days ago into your town, it was making you shiver, and you never missed the sun so badly. It’s like your job is the cause of everything that’s falling apart in your life, and even if it truly is, you can’t stop making your life circle around this, not when you spend so much time there. With your phone in hands, you groaned about your work for her, receiving a answer next;

“You need to take some vacation.” Her voice mumbled to you, all you could hear was the water flowing from her sink as she was doing her night routine of skincare that she often does.

“First of all, to where? Second of all..when? And third of all…why?”

“You have to decide this. But I think that a vacation would be great for you.”

“You’re telling me like…going alone?”

“Yeah, some time for yourself, maybe you’re needing this and don't even know.” Jill shrugs, her face almost glued to her phone on her shoulders. She always has that monotone tone of voice in most of the things she says, even if she worries about you and doesn't explicitly say it.

“I can…I can try to figure this out.”

“Think of it, it will be just fine, no worries. I actually thought about a place you could go.” You shift in your bed, your back against the headboard as you whine in pain. “Where?”

“Italy. I heard about a little village on the coast that has gorgeous things to see there.”

“Italy? Hm, I don't know, Jill. It’s pretty far.”

“Search about Atrani, it will make up your mind.” You heard a sound of Jill munching on something, probably her protein bars that she absolutely loves. Her voice becomes muffled, and you can already visualize her cheeks full as she eats.

“Atrani? Yeah, I'll at least search about it.” She hummed happily with your reply. “That’s good, do something for yourself.”

“I will, thank you for the recommendation.” She only giggled on the other side of the phone.You hear as she stops munching, with her tone more low.

“Don’t mention it. Girl, I’ll have to go now, see ya and take care.”

“See you!” The phone vibrates with a soft beep. Jill is certainly the mother of the group, making sure that everyone was safe and good. She’s the type that advises you and Claire of the cold, remembering to carry a coat, and if not, she always has some meds for anything in her bag. That took a soft chuckle out of you, knowing that she will always care for you and Claire. And you exhale softly when the silence consumes you, alone in your bedroom again.

The idea was not bad, actually. But you’re not the type that go on trips often, and in fact, you never did one alone. The fear of everything going wrong was eating you up. But you decided to at least give it a try. Taking up Jill’s recommendation, you searched up for the place, it was absolutely breath-taking, you could already imagine yourself there, on the sea with a pretty bikini, just enjoying a new culture and everything Italy could offer to you. You heard about Italian cooking, that a lot of people talked about, seems like that rich country was ready to take you in and show their deepest graceful things. Happily, you knew a tad of Italian, this could really help on the trip, and if you needed, there is a translator for you to use for free on the internet. Nothing could go wrong, only if a curse was put into you or something like that. Or you hoped that everything would go as planned.

That night, you slept like a baby, fantasizing about this trip and growing more and more excited. That happiness about a trip you didn’t even started to plan yet. By the morning, your ears were welcomed not so happily as your dreams, by your loud ringtone, awakening you from that dreamland you were in. With a distressing pain in your back, you got up, whining around the house while slowly getting back to your harsh reality. You really thought about that vacation, and your irritated body ached for your paradise to come true. But first, you needed to ask your boss for a lay-off, with at least two months so you could really enjoy every single bit. While getting ready for the job, you spent long minutes thinking about how you could ask your boss for some vacation so easily.

Walking on the hallways, your high heels clicked on the floor, damn this company for forcing the women to use a high heel, this could only make your heels sore and you would probably get worse with the time passing by. The tight black pencil skirts around your thighs were bothering you as well, you could feel one thigh against each other, making it difficult to walk properly. You sigh, letting your head fall in front of you as you knock on your boss's office, his deep voice answering immediately for you to come in.

You were not dumb, you knew how much of a good employee you were, there is no reason for him not to give you the privilege of a vacation, and if he didn't do so…you would resign yourself and worry about that after the vacation. Thank you that you know how to manage your money, always having an emergency fund if that’s needed.

“Sir, I need to ask you something.” You opened the door while mumbling, stepping inside and already going straight to the point. You saw your boss sitting on his chair, an expensive suit around his body and a tie not well tied, as if he doesn’t know how to do it alone. Even for a boss, sometimes he could be just a pathetic old man.

“You can ask me anything, you know this.” He replied, his eyes facing yours, his elbows on the table and his fingers crossed. Another thing that was facing you was his hairless head shining under the white light.

“I was thinking about getting a lay-off, for…some two months at least.”

“Uhm…i understand your situation.” He lays back on his chair, with a sigh, “You’re not the first to ask this in this company. But that’s okay, I'll make it up to you, only because you deserve it.”

Great, you’re not the only one exhausted with your job, and happily, he understood your need. The corners of your lips curl up into a smile, a sincere one, you thanked him, almost eagerly. And you were jumping happily back at home at the end of your shift, people thinking you were crazy on your way back. That night, you couldn’t sleep so early, since you spent the whole night planning the vacation, every little detail was important to avoid bad situations. The whole night, you had only the bright light of your phone lighting up your bedroom. You started to note some things, making some calculations on how much money you would need, how much time you were going to spend, and most of all, you noticed that you needed a place to stay there. You started to search for one who’s close to the places you want to visit. Not too late after, you found a perfect lodge, one called ‘S.K’ for some reason. It had everything you needed and more, even a spa for relaxing the pains all over your body. Most of all, it was a delightful place from the photos you saw. Space was not a problem you were going to have there too.

Without a time to think, you made a reservation, bought your tickets and made sure to fit all on a schedule. You spend the whole night doing this, making sure that would go just fine.

The next day, you told Claire and Jill, who was even more excited than you for this deserved rest you’re going to get. The two vibrated with the news and you three were dreaming about it, imagining everything that could happen there.

When you came into Italy, even the air felt different, a good sensation forming on your chest as you could finally rest a little bit. The flight was good enough for you to sleep almost all the way there, and finally hearing the pilot with that bad radio saying “Passengers, we’re finally on italian lands” gave you chills, in a good way. The flight was okay and nothing to worry about until now. The temperature there was pretty different from your city when you left. It was warm, with a pleasant cool breeze lifting your hair up and making you feel like those silly foreigners laughing and taking pictures of everything they see.

Your humor lights up slowly as you take an uber to the lodge you made a reservation for. You noticed a lot of orchards around the city, and a big crystal clear sea next to the lodge where you're going to spend your vacations. There were a lot of kids on the streets, running with their hair free to nature, it made you giggle at the sight of the car window. The smell here is way different too, some places smell like fruits, others smell like great food, you could hear your stomach rumble in wanting that home made cooking, made from the "nonne's" (grandmas) of the village. Surely, the food is going to be the first thing you’re searching for here.

When you came to your destination, a pleasant building made your eyes shine. ‘S.K’ were written on top of it, a gold material around the circled logo, the pedestrians going in and out showed how popular the place was, the whole place was involved with brown colors that gave you a cozy feeling when you looked at it. Just as the photos you saw, everything looked like a dream coming true. You opened the car door, gave the money to the driver and stepped out to feel some eyes towards you, was it obvious that you’re a foreign? Maybe it's the way you stare at the entrance that makes it obvious, you're standing there for a few minutes now, just shocked by that charming lodge.

The big doors opened with your hand, almost felt like a tight hug when you felt the bliss of the place. Some flowers on the corners made the air easier to breathe, and you had bug eyes looking everywhere to catch the details. You noticed a few old family photos, even some in black and white or in an orange tone, it seems like this lodge is more old than you thought. With the bag in hand, you made your way to the counter, finding a cute old couple smiling and waving at you. You cleared your throat, trying your best at speaking Italian, hoping it would go as you rehearsed.

—"Buon pomeriggio, ho prenotato qui qualche giorno fa"

*(Good afternoon, I made my reservation here a few days ago)

—"Oh certo. Come ti chiami, signorina?" First, the old lady spoke, her voice being a good way to welcome you. It even lightened up your mood even more.

*(Oh, sure. What's your name, miss?)

After all the pleasantries and information you needed to say, the old man smiled at you, handing a pair of keys into your hands when everything was done. You only needed the translator's help a few times, it was an improvement.

—"C'è qualcuno che parla inglese qui per aiutarmi?" You mumbled embarrassed, scratching your nape. The old man nodded, with a bright smile.

*(Is there someone who speaks English here to help me?)

—"Mio figlio" He then called someone out, someone who came dashing, you heard rushed footsteps on the hallways when a young boy made his way at you and his family, his forehead a bit sweaty and his big puppy eyes catching into yours.

*(My son)

When you thought about Italy, you didn’t expect this, not an attractive son of the lodge owner, no. He lifted his face to meet yours, his hands resting on his knees because of the running he came in. He adjusts his stance in a silly way, making his chest come first than his legs on his walk.

—"La signora ha bisogno di aiuto con la lingua." You couldn't quite understand what the woman said, but she pointed at you, your cheeks turning crimson as you couldn’t take your eyes off of that boy.

The young man nodded with his head, his lips turning into a thin line with the same embarrassment as you. He had a hard time describing blonde, it's a dark one but it has blonde nonetheless. His nose shape was the same as the woman on the counter, which you assumed to be his mother. His cheeks were plumped, which made him look so innocent and cute that you felt your heart almost exploding. He was a show of cute features, those cat-like baby blue eyes looking at you like you were something extraordinary to him. That’s when you hear his voice for the first time, the honey tone he carries as he fidgets with his fingers.

—"I can help you. You're not from Italy, right?"

—"Oof, thank goodness!" You let a heavy exhale escape, the hand with the keys pressing against your chest to show your relief. And he noticed the movement, looking at it before gulping down loudly. —"I'm not from here, yeah. Can you help me out?"

—”O-Of course, what do you need, ma’am?”

Most of all, he had that slight Italian accent while speaking English, which you didn’t mind, because the way he’s trying his best makes your heart flutter, even if he rolls his ‘r’s’ a lot more, you find this endearing about this young man. He even had the respect of calling you “ma’am”, maybe because you seem older than him, or just because he’s a gentleman. His parents looked confused as you two started to talk in another language, but with a shrug, they said a warm ‘welcome’ to you. The man looked at the young boy, giving a look that tells him something, almost scolding him for something, he straightens up before saying his name to you.

—”Sorry, my name is Leon, by the way. Leon S. Kennedy.” He offered his hand to a soft handshake, that you didn’t see why not. And quickly, you understood why the lodge is called ‘S.K’. When you told him your name, he smiled with that appealing face of his. —”Let me help you with the bags.”

Without any chance to reply, he takes the heavy bag from your hands, carrying it as if it had feathers on it. You giggled with that, he’s just trying to help, but looks adorable nonetheless.

—”Thank you, can you show me where the 215 room are?”

—”Sure, just follow me ma'am.” You could swear that you would never get tired of listening to his voice, or see his boyish acts and manners.

Remembering what Jill said, your face lights up; “Italy. I heard about a little village on the coast that has gorgeous things to see there.” You had to agree now that you know Leon. You’re known for falling in love easily, so telling this to Jill and Claire would not be a surprise. But you’re not in love with the lodge owner's son in a small village of Italy, you just think he’s lovely, just that. While following him, you noticed that even if you’re older than him, he’s taller than you. Using a tight shirt and baggy jeans, you walked behind him. He's not a toned boy, but his chubby cheeks and soft tummy underneath that shirt only made him more enchanting to you.

—”So…what brings you to this small town?” His voice drags you out of the staring season, you were trying to catch a good amount of details of him, when you were caught. Jolting a bit with his sudden breathy voice, you had a hard time to stop looking at him from behind.

—”Vacation, I was needing this. I felt like an old woman in pain all day’s.” Leon chuckles, walking to the hallways and looking around, with your bag in his hands.

—”Well, you don’t seem old.”

—”I’m thirty one, do I still not look old?” You could hear Leon gasp, almost choking with his own saliva and you wanted to see his face at this moment when he sounded so surprised like this.

—”Wow, your appearance really doesn't make you look like thirty one.”

—”I guess this is good, then.”

—”Very good, ma’am. On the other hand, some people always say that I look too young for my age.” He sighs, shoulders falling for a moment. —”I’m twenty two, do I look younger?”

Leon stops on his way, making you stump on his back before you look him in the face, he turns to look at you. Your bag in hands, a pout on his lips and eyes that carries agony on it. He wanted you to answer.

—”You look…young, yeah. But I thought that you were this age or more, not less.”

—”Great! Because some people keep seeing me as a boy…especially my mamma…” Leon grumbles, whispering the last part as he continues to walk to the room you’re going to stay for two whole months here. Somehow, he felt comfortable enough around you to say that.

—”I cannot relate, but it must be hard.” You made your best to hold a silly chuckle, starting to follow him through the place again after some seconds frozen. His back was turned to you once again. —”And it is! But someone like you doesn’t have this kind of problem.”

Walking behind him, you catched some other things about him, mostly, that he has two moles on the right side of his neck that look like some vampire bit him. And the way his lips were plump and red and he kept biting them —may be a nervous tick he has.—

—”Someone like me?” He stops in front of a door, 215 on the front with a golden adorn on it. He gulps down and changes the subject.

—”W-Well, this is your room, ma’am.”

—”Thank you for the help, Leon. You saved my life.” Leon gave you your bag, biting his lips again and making them more swallow and dry than before. You get the keys and open the door, with a giggle.

—”It was nothing, if you need something, you can always call me.” Noticing his eyes piercing yours, he avoids your eyes when you catch him staring. Before answering, you couldn't hold back a silly giggle, enchanted by that young man.

—”I’ll sure do.”

—”I hope you enjoy your stay here, ma’am.”

—”I know I will.” Sounding way more flirty than you expected, you give him a harmless wink. Not so harmless because it makes Leon keep his eyes on you for a craving attempt to show something. Clearing his throat, he waves his hand at you before turning his back at you, reluctantly. When you did the same, he looked over his shoulder, just to see you one last time before you go inside your room.

You truly are something extraordinary to him, he did not expect to meet someone like you, an older foreign who took his mind at the first glare. You were way more than pretty for your age, looked young and had a voice that made his knees weak. Sure, he’s not in love with you, he’s just thinking you’re a graceful woman. Otherwise, if his father knows that a feeling might be growing on his chest for a client, he might get punished for that, even if he’s not a little boy anymore. But damn, how he wants to see you again, to hear your voice calling his name, to see your eyes wrinkling with a giggle because of something stupid he did, or just to see your curvy body. He can’t wait to see you again, indeed.

The first night was not that easy. The room was perfect, this was not the problem. A cozy decoration, the current of air at the window was gentle and calming, but most of all, you were lucky enough to get a pretty view of the grand sea faraway, that water made your whole body crave for a sea bath or at least taking in the great sun of Italy. Italy sure had the arms open for you, taking you in like a son of their nature, the orchards around bringing the sweet juicy smell to your casement, you just wanted to enjoy these two months and never leave anymore of the red dirt country. The problem was that the thoughts kicked in your head by the night, you were all alone, in a country you barely know, on the coast of it. This could be very dangerous for a woman, and it takes you a whole 3 hours to finally get to sleep. Not before a great bath in a bathtub, feeling the warm water flowing into your body and a glass of wine that you ordered from the lodge services.

On the next morning, only one thing would soothe you out; Taking a sunbath. Not before calling your friends to tell everything and how it was your trip to Italy until now. As you take some swimsuits, you show it on your phone camera, showing it to Jill and Claire on the face call.

—”So…this one? Or this one?” You heard an approving sound of the second one coming for both, Claire was the first to speak, while she had her tummy on the mattress and hands above her chin.

—”The second one is better, trust me.”

—”I agree, and maybe some Italian man around may agree too.” They giggled like some scholar girls talking about their crushes and you rolled your eyes up with the joke.

—”Oh come on, I'm not here for that!”

—”And what’s the problem in finding someone? You’ve been single for a long while now.” You had to agree with Jill, you’re thirty one and it's been a long while since you even kissed someone. Holding the second swimsuit in your hands, you look down on it, in front of your body and realizing that she’s right. —”Maybe all you need is someone, just don’t rush that.”

—”Yeah, who knows. Maybe your true love is in that small city in Italy.”

—”Who knows…” An unconscious smile grows in the corner of your lips, and Claire catches it at the same time, lifting her eyebrows at you.

—”I know that smile! What are you hiding?”

—”Oh, me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A faux innocence glittered in your eyes, batting your eyelashes at both.

—”We’re gonna find out soon or later.” Jill hissed under her breath, knowing exactly that there’s something happening that you don’t want to talk about yet. And is not because you don’t trust them, it’s because nothing so extraordinary happened until now.

—”If you two think so…Well, I have a sunbath to take now, enjoy the cold, girls.”

—”Don’t throw this on our faces.” You three laughed before you said goodbye to the girls and left the call. Taking the second option, you slowly put the tight black halter swimsuit around your body, and take a book that you brought to read on the airplane.

On your way, the beach was just too close to go walking by. Bag in your shoulders and only your swimsuit and comfy cloud slippers you walked to there, making your way to the closest umbrella to stay underneath it. The air was not too hot, there weren't many people there, the perfect moment to be on the beach. You took a deep breath, just taking in the view of that sand underneath your feets, or the sea right in front of you, the waves were calling your name and the air felt way more light than before. Seeing a good wood chair to sit on it, you quickly go for it, laying there with only your legs exposed to the sun, the breeze was bringing you the chit chat of the Italians, words and words that you didn’t knew, lifes, families and kids all around, jumping or hopping to do whatever their might be doing on that glorious place. Some kids were making sandcastles, they even had talent for it. It made you even surprised by tiny humans building something so detailed with so much passion, true artists in their hearts you may say. You heard a worried shout on the other side of the beach, a father calling from his son as he dashed to the water happyfully “Ragazzo!” It’s the first thing you heard, and the word made you curious. Keeping your book aside, you didn’t even open it with that whole new bunch of culture in front of your eyes. Searching in your phone for what the father of the little boy yelped, you found the online dictionary.

“A male child (most commonly used) or a man who you are having a romantic relationship with.”

That looked interesting, you’re really learning a lot of things on this trip. With a proud smile, you kept looking at your screen for the translation, the Italian culture crawling inside your mind and making you even more curious to know more. You were crawling for more, begging for more and thirsty for the waters of a different place that felt like heaven, like true paradise in front of your mere eyes, your—

—”Buongiorno, ma’am.”

*(Good morning.)

The voice dragged you out of that learning hypnosis, making you look with wide eyes to who’s behind you. It’s Leon, with that cute lazy smile on his face and his hands behind his back. The way he spoke Italian made a shiver run through your spine, that same damn feeling. You didn’t even heard him coming.

—”It’s you. You scared me for a second.” A relieved breath came out, your hands on your chest, right on your still beating fast poor heart. He chuckled, and you noticed his eyes trailing down on your body. Leon licked his lips, his mind going off for a brief moment as he took the sight of you, on that swimsuit. He truly found it amazing to see the way your waist was so perfect underneath that, or the way your breasts were squeezed on that tight thing. Gosh, he truly adored everything about you in a swimsuit, he could drink from that water fountain for days, and live to worship you and that goddess body that he doubted to believe was real. He realized how hard he’s been staring at your body and quickly answered you in a failed voice.

—”I-I’m sorry, it was not my intention to scare you.”

—”Don’t you worry, ragazzo.” The nickname rolled out of your tongue, winking at him and watching as he froze in his place. Leon Bambi's eyes got even bigger, his lips parted in awe as his eyes dragged up to your eyes, even if he wanted to still look at your succulent legs. He could feel how his pants were getting tighter around his body, the temperature getting hotter and a single sweat drop falling down his forehead. All because of a nickname, not a mere nickname, but you calling him this way made him feel something different.

—”You’re calling me a boy?”

—”Maybe I am.” His lips curl up into a boyish smile, that gives you more confidence to keep going. Leon walked to your side, his hands behind his back to hide the fact that he’s fidgeting his fingers.

—”Well, do you see me as a boy?”

—”It depends, I haven't met you properly yet.” Crossing your legs one above another, his eyes travel down once again, he could feel his heart beating way too fast for a “client”.

—”And…what are you thinking of Italy until now?”

—”It’s very…pleasant of what I have seen yet.” Unconsciously, your eyes traveled at his body, up and down. He quickly noticed the flirt, his ears turning red as he looked away.

—”I’m glad you’re liking it.” His hand made his way to his nape, scratching it to dismiss the shyness away. As a silence creeps in, an idea comes up to your mind.

—”Ragazzo…could you do me a favor since you’re here?”

—”Uhm, of course! What is it?”

—”Could you apply some sunscreen to my legs?” Taking the bottle from your bag, you showed it up to Leon, his eyes lighting up to your favor.

He thought deeply about if he should accept it or not, those legs were calling him up, whispering his name to be caressed by his hands. He gulped loudly, those pants on his legs making everything sufferable to him as he nodded eagerly. His fingers touched yours when he took the bottle from your hands, a lingering movement that made him even more nervous. Leon looked at the bottle, pressing it and seeing the cream drops by the palm of his hands.

Bending down slightly, he looked at your eyes, looking as nervous as if he’s doing a life or death movement.

—”Can…i?”

—”Yes, go ahead.” You let your legs lay free on the white wood chair, Leon took a deep breath before his soft delicate hands touch your skin, causing you to feel a tingling on where he’s touching, he slowly cups your ankle, his hand all around it and showing you how big his hand actually is despite his touches being so respectful towards you. He’s gentle, not really wanting to make it seem like he’s taking advantage of you. Leon kneels down, his knees on the sand even if he doesn't care, it’s you who matters now, it’s his help that you asked for, even if the sand is hot on his skin and making him feel a strange feeling, he keeps doing it.

His hands were always not entirely touching you, as if he didn't deserve to touch you. His chin lifted it up, he had a pair of puppy eyes staring at you, almost begging for something he doesn’t express. You could hear his breath becoming heavier, shaky and sharp and his hands shaking on your skin.

—”Don’t be so nervous, you’re just helping me, no?” Your hands traveled to the top of his hair, scratching his scalp with a big grin. His eyes only grew bigger on you, he bit his lower lips and looked down at your legs nervously, fighting against an urge he didn't understand.

—”Y-Yes…”

Leon whispered, his voice lowering an octave from before and deep inside, you enjoyed seeing him that way. His hands roamed up further, trying his best at applying the product to prevent your perfect skin from burning. Leon couldn't look up at you at this point, feeling very sheepish for having a dirty mind at something so normal and common like this. It isn’t normal to him, not when your body is so damn pretty that messes up with his mind. His lips pursed, his body was there, but his mind was anywhere else, thinking of you. He’s fucked up, he can’t contain the dirty thoughts of you, he is able to feel his erection getting harder to disguise.

His movements suddenly get faster, he just needs to end this now or you will notice that he’s hard while touching you, and he doesn't want you to think he’s a pervert. Leon gets very close to your inner thigh, his breath stuck on his throat as he can smell your skin from that distance. That sweet smell, he could drown on it and he would be satisfied. But not now, when he applies the lotion all over your both legs, he gets up strangely, clearing his throat.

—”Thank you, Leon. You’re amazing.” He heard your voice praising him, and it only got worse. He felt his dick throbbing at your voice, his body craving you. He felt like a virgin teen who had never seen a pair of boobs before, but seeing your cleavage like this was dangerous for that poor boy's heart.

—”Don’t mention it.” Leon turned his body to the other side slightly, just his lower half so you wouldn’t notice his boner.

—”I won’t take your time anymore, thanks again and have a good day.”

—”N-No problem! I should say thanks to you, ma’am.” He gave you a desperate look, your eyes trailing down dangerously. That spark between you two was killing him, he just wanted to give in to that ferocious desire, he just wanted to feel your body all over him, touch you, kiss you and take you to his bed. He wanted to have you by his side. He turned his body uncomfortably even more to the other side, and you quickly knew he was hiding something from you.

—”Is everything okay, Ragazzo?” Did you know how you messed up with his mind? Sometimes he thought you did, because you were so damn attractive and you knew how to use your words to make him shake.

—”Y-Yep! Absolutely. I just…i think my papà called me and…i should go now.” Leon looked at you, trying his best to curl the corner of his lips into an awkward smile, it was the best he could do in that situation. —”It was nice to see you, I'll…see you later!”

He made his way back to the backdoors of the lodge where you came from quickly, not even giving you a chance to see his face one last time. In fact, he couldn’t stand one more second beside you without giving in to his hunger. You were lethal, a poisonous snake that was creeping over his mind, messing with everything he knew about morals or self control. He got up from the sand and left quickly, not even daring to breathe the same air as you do. Leon made his way inside and you watched as he slowly faded inside the building. He always acts strangely next to you, you notice how he's different with the other clients, but this was making you worry you may have said something wrong to him. But in reality, he just needed a bathroom to relieve that throbbing pain.

#fanfic #fictionalslvr #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x fem reader #leon x reader #leon smut #leon kennedy smut #leon resident evil #re2 remake #resident evil #re2 smut #re2 leon #re2 #leon s kennedy smut #smut

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thanksjro · 6 months

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Transformers Holiday Special (2015) — Wishing You and Yours a Delightfully Secular Wintertime, Containing Absolutely Zero References to the Birth of Christ

Despite what some might like to think, Christmas isn’t for everyone; even with all the commercialization, at its heart, it’s still about the Baby Jesus. You can tell that we haven’t shaken the Christian connection, because the cover for this special issue has the father, the son, and the holy spirit, which is hidden behind the company logo.

And if Rodimus doesn’t stop screwing around, his resurrection’s gonna have to happen a lot sooner than Easter.

Because this is a comic special, things are going to be a little different. Instead of one standard-size issue, we’re getting three mini-stories, each with their own writer (from each of the comic runs that were publishing at the time) and artist. Our stories are listed here:

Don’t worry about what Ultra Magnus is up to behind that text.

Now, you may ask, why on earth am I covering this issue, which is a specifically Christmassy one, now, when it’s not currently Christmas? Well, according to Roberts, the story “Silent Light” takes place after MTMTE #49, and #50 is when the crew manifest for the Lost Light gets shaved down some, so realistically, this is when “Silent Light” happens in continuity. So I want you to keep in mind that Getaway’s Christmas isn’t going so great.

I won’t be going back to catch up on the other runs’ plots, as the Christmas stories are stand-alone.

Getting into it, our first story is:

Penned by Mairghread Scott and drawn by Corin Howell. We open up on a cityscape featuring a happy sun and some eye-searing narration boxes.

I went to Howell’s Twitter to see what her deal was, and was greeted with a banner consisting of a sexy succubus lady with her boobies out, so I’m going to assume she simplified her style for this issue, since mecha are hella difficult to draw.

Also, I hope you like the structure of How The Grinch Stole Christmas!, because that’s what we’re getting for the next little while, complete with chunky, white text on painful-to-view red.

Our story opens with all the transformers from the colonies visiting Cybertron and making friends with each other. Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts, which pisses off President-King Starscream to no end. Being the drama queen that he is, Starscream feels that everyone should be paying attention to him 24/7 and feed him grapes as he reclines on a sofa, because hasn’t he done enough for all these sorry sacks of shit? He hasn’t even caused a war, unlike the last guy who was in charge. Bumblebee (who is a ghost) tells him to just be fucking nice for once in his miserable life, but Starscream wouldn’t be Starscream if he could settle down like that.

Our god-king of the planet calls for his aide, Rattrap, who is going to be in his alt mode for the entirety of this story, to help him set up for a public broadcast addressing his need for attention and adoration.

He sends Rattrap off to deliver the tape to the news, which seems to consist of two very sleep-deprived individuals. Because they’re apparently the only two robots stupid enough to attempt to cover the nightmare hellscape that is Cybertronian current events, the last bit of Starscream’s tape is cut off when one of them falls asleep on the switchboard. This turns Starscream’s personal worship holiday into “For the Love of God Be Nice to Each Other” Day. Everyone takes to it beautifully, getting BFF tattoos, going on vacation with their husbands, hugging in the straightest gay way possible, holding parades, giving each other bombs, and getting absolutely shitfaced.

Starscream, distraught that nobody is giving him the emperor treatment like he had wanted, sulks in his twin bed, then moves to his dinky little throne as the night wears on, making the most miserable faces he can the whole time. Eventually, Chosen One Day ends, and he’s been completely ignored. Very sad.

Then, there’s a knock on his door, and Starscream creeps over to the peephole just in time to be smashed flat by Wheeljack slamming the door open. Last time we saw Wheeljack he was assumed dead by most, and floating in a tank at Starscream’s behest. He’s gotten better since then, clearly.

Wheeljack came with friends— the entirety of the main cast for Windblade/Til All Are One, to be exact— and they’re here to make sure that Starscream isn’t completely alone on this friendship holiday he accidentally invented. Everyone toasts to his good, totally intentional idea, and Starscream decides against killing all of them for at least the next 24 hours.

Now pay attention to this next story, because it’s actually canon-relevant, because of course Roberts would write a holiday special mini-comic that ties into his overarching plot. Fucking nerd.

Our artist for “Silent Light” is Kotteri (or Kotteri!, as it’s been written on some of their other publications) the pen name for Ikumi Fukuda. Kotteri is primarily a manga artist, having created their own works and well as working on other projects. I admittedly can’t find much on this person, not even their preferred pronouns, TFWiki itself using “they”, which I will default to. All of the info they’ve provided themself is, of course, written in Japanese, but even running things through a translator only proves that information to be purely professional. Their personal Twitter is protected, and my follow request was never answered, as far as I know. There’s a fan Twitter account for their art that claims “she”, but I have no way to verify, and I don’t want to assume anything based on art style, because that’s sort of shitty. Let it never be said that I didn’t do my due diligence here— I fucking hate using Twitter.

We open with Rodimus having just returned from Meteorfest, a festival where you surf on meteors and avoid your co-captain and SIC’s calls like the putz you are. He’s greeted by said co-captain and SIC decorating assembling a Christmas tree cloaking machine and finishing each other’s sentences like an old married couple. Rodimus tries to deny the existence of Minimegs, then we get our heavy-handed and lampshaded explanation for the crux of the issue. Megatron handles Minimus like a baby doll as the two of them explain that the Lost Light is about to hit Mauler territory.

Maulers are notorious for wanting the Cybertronians dead, but Megatron is too much of a macho man to pussy out and go around them. So instead, the crew will be hiding in special sleeping pods that will mask their spark signatures, and pray to their pantheon of gods that no one notices the ship the size of Manhattan. Brainstorm has like fifteen new inventions, despite being on house arrest from his lab. Megatron’s autobot badge is wearing a hat. Merry fucking Christmas.

Over at Swerve’s, it would appear that everyone’s favorite television junkie is closed for business, as it’s just him, Nautica, and Whirl, sitting on the floor getting absolutely shit-faced on subspace-filtered engex. This might’ve been an issue, as folks are supposed to be bedding down in their B.E.D.s for the next leg of the trip, but Swerve slipped Magnus some Bing Crosby earlier so they’re cool right now.

There’s a banging at the door, and Whirl decides to answer, even though it’s not his bar, because if it’s trouble come a-knocking, it was probably looking for Whirl anyhow.

When Whirl answers, however, it’s not Magnus having caught wind of Nautica disrespecting the Autobot code, but an entirely different flavor of problem.

Now, I know that thing Whirl’s holding looks like a fucked up Hitachi Wand, but it is, in fact, an entire-ass baby robot. It seems that when Cerebros (Fortress Maximus’s friend, if you’ll recall) sent the engex through the subspace, this infant Cybertronian (Luna One-ian?) got mixed in with the other supplies.

We learn a bit about how baby Cybertronians work before we remember, oh right, this kid is gonna get everyone killed if they catch wind of her spark, since there isn’t a B.E.D. for her. Yes, it’s a girl! Congrats to our three idiots on their Cybertronian gender non-conforming little princess.

They gang decides to shunt her back through the subspace hatch, so they head over to where it’s currently being housed— the office of Ultra Magnus. Nautica, using her wits and all the tools in her arsenal, smashes the window to the office and they break in. The empty Magnus Armor sits in the dark like a grim monument to being married to your job. Whirl informs Nautica how to comfort the baby that he super for-sure doesn’t care about, handing her off while he uses his titty glass to replace the window in the door. Swerve tries to bite through iron chains holding the subspace hatch hostage, only to be stopped by the sound of justice coming down the hall.

The gang, of course, looks suspicious as hell standing stock straight immediately in front of Magnus’s office, but Minimus rather likes the change of pace out of these goofy morons, and is maybe also trying to deflect his embarrassment at being caught performing his own personal karaoke. He sends them off to their B.E.D.s, and it looks like all’s well that ends well until Whirl asks where Sparky is.

Yes, he named the baby.

Don’t worry though, he’s totally not attached or whatever.

Nautica, in her panic to not be caught stealing/vandalizing/using equipment she doesn’t have the clearance for, stuffed Sparky in the Magnus Armor. And also put the helmet portion back on the body, for some reason. Anyway, it looks like our little princess is gonna be a load-bearer when she grows up, because Magnus is up and looking for hugs. Nautica, a paragon of level-headed thinking in times of crisis, handles this in the best way she can.

And that’s a wrap on Minimus Ambus! Let’s give him a hand, folks! And let’s also give a hand to the new Ultra Magnus, Miss Sparky Whirldòttir! Where did that little scamp get to, anyhow?

Swerve nominates himself to be the one to drag Minimus to a B.E.D. to sleep off his concussion, leaving Whirl and Nautica to track down the baby.

The scene changes to Megatron announcing a last call for beddy-bye time on the intercom, just as Ultra Sparky enters the room. She looms over Megatron, putting him in a very compromising position as he hits the intercom button with his arm. Rodimus, climbing into his own B.E.D., wishes that his co-captain and SIC would stop being gay for, like, five minutes, or at least wouldn’t do it where it can be broadcasted throughout the whole ship in audio format.

Whirl and Nautica come save Megatron from the onslaught of physical affection, stating that “Magnus” has had a bit too much to drink. Megatron orders them to bed from his fetal position on the countertop.

It’s bedtime, but we still haven’t figured out how to get the kid back to Luna 1 so the Maulers don’t super-murder the whole crew. Nautica leaves Whirl to figure it out, getting into B.E.D. and wondering who the fuck knocked on the door in the first place. Whirl tells her not to worry about it and to go to sleep, so he can be the one to deal with this mess.

Whirl, notorious for doing all the nastiest jobs— former Wrecker, intended bullet sponge for the time travel situation, attempting suicide via Megatron— is going to add another tally to the list labeled “Reasons My Peers Don’t Really Like Me All That Much”, by throwing an entire baby out the air lock.

However, Whirl is being written by Roberts, who would never allow the number of robot babies to go down, so Sparky’s adorable assimilation of Whirl’s signature physical features gets him right in the soft underbelly he swears doesn’t exist.

Wow, Roberts put a baby in that robot. Surely this is as overt as we’re going to get with this imagery, since we’re in a major publication and not some fan-fiction!

ANYWAY

Whirl wakes up in the Medibay, emptied of infant and freaked the hell out about it. Velocity— who I will remind you is basically the only medical doctor on the Lost Light, since everyone else is too busy getting railed by weeaboos and joining unethical polycules to do their actual jobs—informs him that his daughter is, in actuality, a massive colony of scraplets that combined to look like a newborn.

It turns out that Nautica is a bit of a snitch, having spilled the beans after she woke up. Whether or not she thought Whirl had thrown the baby out the air lock isn’t really addressed, but thank god he didn’t, because then we would have had to send everyone’s favorite gun-addled dipshit to jail for the rest of forever. Checking security footage revealed who the mystery knocker was— it was the scraplets, forming the shape of an arm.

When Nautica asks how the hell they all survived this, seeing as Whirl kept the murder baby, Whirl informs her that he cut off power to his own spark to allow everyone else to live, including his sweet baby princess, winning him a #1 Dad mug, and also several emails from Rung to please make an appointment with him.

Whirl’s miracle Christmas baby lied and stole with the intent to murder everyone on board, and that makes her the ultimate daddy’s girl.

I hope you’ve all enjoyed this canon-important holiday special story about Whirl becoming a father.

In our third and final story, it appears we’ve been transported to Whoville, by the talent of our MTMTE Season 1 colorist, Josh Burcham. Within Whoville resides Anna Log, a human woman who owns two turbofoxes and sleeps in full military body armor on her couch. The wall in her living room suddenly explodes, revealing a late-night visitor.

Motherfucker, you are supposed to be on the ship right now.

Mega-Claus fusion-cannons Anna Log, and we cut to a film noir office where none other than Thundercracker has his feet up on the desk. The art grayscales for this section, as he narrates that he’s a detective. He’s wearing a fedora. It’s January 7th. He has a mysterious past and probably thinks that makes him very sexy.

The phone rings, cueing Buster, Thundercracker’s puggle, to put on her own fedora, and the two go to see the crime scene, where Thundercracker is the same size as a normal human man and wears a trench coat.

It turns out that Anna Log is the director of security for the entirety of planet Earth, which is sort of a big deal. When Thundercracker and the cops look at the security footage, they see who did it— Santa Claus, played by Megatron himself. Fucked up.

Sure, pal.

Thundercracker must now fly to the North Pole and kill Santa, because that’s how the law works. He transforms, flies by Club Penguin and a Coke commercial, reflects on his job, and then gets ready for a fight with Santa’s security measures, as Busters glowing nose warns him of incoming danger. She’s very talented, Buster.

Thundercracker makes quick work of the cybernetic security reindeer with his twin energy katanas and Buster’s jetpack. He kicks down Santa’s door to find the jolly elf himself standing in the dark, potentially rabid. The two start kung-fu beating the shit out of each other. It should be noted that this Santa isn’t the Megatron Santa, who shows up behind the two as they brawl, but rather original-flavor fat man Santa. How Thundercracker didn’t notice this isn’t addressed.

Thundercracker demands to know why Megatron dressed up as Santa Claus to commit a murder— the murder part made sense, Director Log and Megatron would be diametrically opposed— and Megatron reveals the greatest slight against himself he’s ever known.

Framing Santa for murder ain’t exactly gonna turn that coal into a diamond, Meggy baby.

Thundercracker clocks Megatron, he becomes besties with Santa Claus, and they ride a flying tank into the sunset. Thus ends Thundercracker’s most brilliant writing project yet, which he was reading to Marissa Faireborn this entire time.

Marissa isn’t terribly impressed, poking holes in all the little nonsense bits, while also not feeling thrilled about having been killed off in the first two pages of Thundercracker’s book. While the two argue, Buster and Ayana Jones make a Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown! reference together, and the issue closes out with a big ol’ Autobot symbol, even though Thundercracker was a Decepticon, Ayana and Marissa are humans, and Buster is a goddamned dog.

Thus ends the Holiday Special. Up next, more direct story progression!

#transformers #MTMTE #holiday special #jro punches me in the face #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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jackie5656 · 1 year

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The Good, The Bad, & The Chocolate With; James Potter (ATJ)

A/N: Hello again! Another James imagine. This man has a chokehold on me, and I’m not mad about it. This doesn’t end on a cliffhanger, but I’m thinking of making another part to it. We’ll see. Enjoy!

TW: Descriptions of period pain, suggestive humor (Not really proofread yet)

Summary: James goes looking for his good luck charm, and finds her day isn’t going nearly as well as his.

James Potter believes he is having one of the grandest days in his life. For no particular reason. In fact, it’s a collection of minuit happenings that has him so cheeky.

Theres a bold, crimson ‘A’ stamped onto his configurations assignment, one most of his classmates hadn’t done nearly as well on. His favorite breakfast was featured in the grand hall this morning. And he’s got some of the best friends a Hogwarts student could ask for. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and classes have just let out. Leaving the entirety of the afternoon and evening to soak in the beautiful spring weather. Quidditch season.

Speaking of, the renowned chaser was Gryffindor’s leading man in their win yesterday. Yet another reason to bounce along the bright halls.

**********

“You, darling, are most definitely my good luck charm.” You roll your eyes, fondness full in your features as you let James play with the red and gold ribbons braided into your hair. Marlene insisted on the new hairstyle, spending most of the morning pulling your strands into refined weaving. You feel pretty, and James can tell. He absolutely adores it.

“I believe it’s a game of skill, and not luck, Potter.” His eyes narrow at your opposition, the moon to his sun, he regards it. He strokes your cheek, swiping the pessimism away.

“I’d beg to differ. I play better when I know you’re in the stands.” The prick says it not only because it’s true, but because he knows it’ll make you blush.

“Oi, Potter! Are we playing quidditch or flirting with our girlfriends?” James waves off one of his teammates from the sidelines, pressing a kiss to your lips in a steadfast farewell.

“Stay by the boys, yeah? You look too pretty for me not being around.” There’s a peck on your cheek, but you barely register it, absolutely flustered. James straightens his padded shoulders as he walks away, most definitely aware of his effect on you. Bastard.

**********

It’s a quick walk to the girl’s dormitory, James humming all the way. He catches Marlene’s attention as she exits your shared room.

“Marl’s, let me in?”

“Miss her already, Prongs?”

“It’s an obsession, I know.” He smiles from ear to ear, and your best friend does all she can not to gag. She looks to him, the door, and him again. Seeming unsure. James frowns.

“What’s the matter?”

“Just not...Entirely sure she’s up for visitors.” He quirks his head, concern written all over his face. Marlene waves her wand anyway, granting permission to the charm that blocks boys from entering the girls’ corridor. He mumbles a distracted ‘thanks’ before going inside.

You believe you’re having one of the worst days of your life. For no particular reason. In fact, it’s a collection of minuit happenings that has you so miserable.

There’s an incessant, stabbing pain in your lower abdomen. And a dull throbbing at the back of your head that’s lasted all day. You’ve been bleeding heavier than usual, and it’s already costed you a 5am trip to the laundry. A stack of assignments taunts you from the desk across the room, but you haven’t managed to get out of bed since you’ve applied the new sheets. Your heating pad broke last night, and left you groaning in pain and sleepless. On top of it all, you feel awfully deprecating. A common symptom of your menstruation.

“Dove, where are you?” James sounds scared, Marlene must have warned him. You’d just managed to wave your doting friend off, seeking to wallow by yourself. There’s a short knock at your door before he lets himself in, not waiting for permission out of anxiousness. When his eyes find you, safe in bed, a wave of relief consumes him.

“Hello, lovely. Where you been all day?” James only has transfigurations and astronomy with you, and they don’t fall on Wednesdays, and therefore is unaware you’ve skipped today’s classes. This period has been especially harsh, so you’ve allowed yourself a day of rest, after your roommate’s stern insistence.

“Here.” It comes out froggy, croaked with lack of use besides soft whimpers of pain. James crawls on top your bed, brows furrowed with innocent confusion. He looks so pretty, all the time. Even when he shouldn’t, bruised and filthy after a game, a grueling practice, or even when he’s sick. James Potter always looks effortlessly gorgeous, envy consumes you.

“Everything alright? Are you not feeling well?” He lets some of his weight rest on top of you, craving affection. Regretting it immediately when you suck your teeth and push against his broad shoulders. He practically reels back, horrified he’s harmed you.

“Just cramps, I’m fine.” He pouts, and you fight the urge to kiss him despite your misery.

“You’re not fine.” He asserts, brushing a stray hair from your forehead. The rest of it is still in braids from yesterday, loosened and a tad frizzy. You still look beautiful as ever. He’s guilty at the thought, reminded of your discomfort when a sudden wince crosses your face. “Shark week, then. No fun at all.” You look about ready to kill him, half-heartedly rubbing away the apologetic kisses he presses across your face.

“I’m sorry, lovely. Not funny, I know.”

“You’re a meanie.”

“Am not!” The corners of his hazel eyes crinkle at the banter, pressing another kiss to your neck because he can’t help himself. “Have you eaten today?” It’s incredulous, already unbelieving. You turn away from him, huffing a sigh.

“Y/n.” It feels odd to have your name on his lips, usually substituted for an array of other endearments. You only silently shake your head in answer, having been nauseated most of the day.

“Haven’t been hungry, honest.” James knows you become particularly self conscious on your period, though you’ve never outwardly admitted it.

“Well you have to eat, darling. Your body needs it, especially this week.” You grumble, fairly irritated. “Maybe I can grab something easy from the hall. Soup, maybe. Or some of that pasta you love-”

“I’m not hungry James, I want to be left alone.” It’s harsh, laced with an uncharacteristic venom. All the light leaves your boyfriends face, and you swear you feel your heart break in two.

“Oh, alright. I’m sorry, darling. I’ll come back later to check on you, then.” He backs off your mattress, trying not to look as defeated as he feels. He barely makes it three steps toward the door before tears are streaming down your face.

“No, James. Please, don’t leave. I don’t know why I said that. I’m so sorry.” Your voice cracks, wracked with pitiful sniffles you can’t control. He’s back on you in seconds, vehemently relived yet concerned.

“Dove, it’s alright. I know you meant no harm. You’re in pain, it’s okay.” He pulls you into his lap, entirely unsure of how to handle this sudden mood change.

“Stop being so nice. I was just so rude to you and all you’re doing is trying to help.” You wipe at your eyes with his sweater you’re wearing to no use, the warm tears keep falling. He shushes you, rubbing circles into your back because it usually helps. Honestly, he’s having difficulty navigating all of this. The same hand goes under your (his) sweater, aiming for your lower stomach in hopes the warmth will ease the pain. You jolt, unexpecting of the contact on your bare skin.

“Hey, hey. What’s up with the jumpscare?” Admittedly, the heat from his calloused hand feels great. So you allow it despite the stream of judgemental thoughts rush through you.

You shake your head. “I’m just sorry. I feel crazy.”

“Stop that, lovely. I know you’re not crazy, don’t be mean. Crazy about me, maybe. I’d understand that.” You whine at his teasing, pushing your face into the conjunction of his neck and shoulder.

“Stop teasing, I’m vulnerable.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.” He sounds less than sincere, you can feel the prick grinning as he speaks against the shell of your ear. You heat even more, groaning. There’s a few beats of silence, and he can’t help but feel like you’re holding off on him.

“What’s on your mind?” You cringe, hoping he wouldn’t have read into the quiet.

“I haven’t been able to bring myself to do any of my assignments. And Sirius is throwing a party Friday night and I promised I’d help. It’s supposed to be fun, too. There’s your game Saturday, then HogsMeade Sunday. I have to get it all done in the next two days or else I’ll have no time.” He pulls the hands apart that are picking at your nails, an anxious habit of yours he’s been trying to break.

“We’ll get them done, lovely. I can help.” You hiccup into his shirt, overwhelmed with the kindness of his heart. He pulls his arm tighter around you. There’s quiet again, and James finally stops biting his tongue.

“Have I told you you’re beautiful yet?” You pull your head back, facing him with fond confusion. Potter has a tendency to read people, especially you. An annoying tendency, really. You bite anyway.

“You always do.” You run a hand through his hair, biting back a tired smile when he hums with eyes closed in content. You’re trying to distract him.

“But do I say it enough,” he licks his lips, hesitant. “Do you believe it? Because I’d hate to have you being mean to my girlfriend, I’m quite fond of her.”

“James.” It’s a warning

“I mean, you should see her. She’s got these beautiful eyes, the longest lashes-”

“James.” It’s a plead.

“Her hair too. Looks effortlessly perfect, you know? I quite like her lips as well. And Merlin, that body is just to die for-”

“James Potter!” You strike his chest, both all smiles as he clutches your wrist. Bringing your knuckles to his lips in half-hearted apology. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m lucky. I’ve got the prettiest girl at Hogwarts wrapped around my finger.” It earns him another smack, and he’s not even sorry. You’re attacked with sloppy kisses, yelping the entire time. James is on cloud nine, more than happy to keep kissing you if it means he’ll keep hearing that laugh. He only stops when something short of a whine passes your lips, another shooting pain pulling your brows together. Potter looks like he’s genuinely experiencing it with you, snaking his hand just below the waistband of your joggers. Scrunching his nose in satisfaction when you hum.

“Better?” You only nod, pressing your smaller hand over his. You tilt your head up to kiss him, emanating all the gratitude you can’t seem to find words to express into it. James can’t help but grin as his free hand goes to hold your jaw in place, gladly accepting any affections you’ll grant him. He pulls away for only a moment, lips puffy as he sits back on his knees and bends at the waist. Coming to face the lower part of your abdomen. “You leave her be, you hear?” It’s so ridiculous and endearing you can only giggle and pull him up to kiss you again.

There’s a soft knock at the door, and a growl sounds from the back of Potter’s throat. Wanting to curse out whoever’s audacious enough to pull your attention away from him. “Ignore it and they’ll go away.” He fights against the hands that press against his chest, unwilling to share.

“Y/n, darling. I thought you’d like some chocolates. You weren’t in potions today and Mary said you’d skipped.” James groans even louder, face falling into your neck in defeat. Another, much less gentle voice rings out from behind the door.

“We know you’re in there too, Prongs. You two decent? Cover the appendages, we’re coming in!” Sirius bursts through, pushing past the taller, sandy-haired boy in the doorway and making a bee-line to you. James is practically fuming when he’s shoved off of you.

“You leave my best girl be, you dog. She’s not feeling well and you’re attempting to defile her!” You’re beaming at the sight of them, watching as Remus waves a container of soup and a bag of his chocolates to you before setting them on your dresser.

“Fuck off, Pads. You’re the dog, literally.” James crosses his arms, pouting like a child now that he’s sharing the spotlight. Corners of his lips upturning when your laugh sounds at his wit.

“How’d you know I wasn’t feeling well?” Sirius stokes your hair, having a glaring match with your boyfriend as Remus cocks his head.

“Well it’s cramps, isn’t it?” He steals one of your chocolates, swallowing before he elaborates. “Its on my calendar.” James whips his head toward him at that.

“You have my girlfriends period marked on your calendar?”

“You don’t?” Remus looks to you with a ‘he’s hopeless’ not noticing your own shock.

“Is that what those red hearts are scattered around each month?” Moony shakes his head, rolling his eyes as if this is the most obvious thing in the world.

“Y/n’s the green hearts, Prongs. Keep up. The rest of the girls are the other colors. Seriously, you two need to start paying more attention.” He can only shake his head at the boys, tossing you a foil-wrapped sweet.

“I think I’m the most spoiled girl in school.” The pair offers you a cheeky smile at this, and James only reciprocates when you nudge him with a socked foot. Craving individual acknowledgment.

“We’ll leave you to it, then. Y/n, rest up. Party’s on Friday, we’re getting wasted on behalf of all women.” Sirius presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “keep your hands off, Prongs.” The raven haired boy sticks his tongue out and avoids the chasers swinging arm with ease.

“Feel better, love. And eat, please. Not just the candy.” Remus points a stern finger in your direction, ruffling James’ hair on his way out.

“They’re insufferable.”

“They’re sweet.”

“I’m sweet, they’re menaces.” James reaches for the chocolate in your grasp, feigning offense when you clutch it to your chest.

“When your uterus is attacking you, you can have some candy.”

“I happen to know that uterus very well, and she thinks it should be shared.”

“James!”

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