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javierpena-inatacvest · 7 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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maxthelordagain · 3 months

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FIVE PEBBLES!!

recently got into Rain World (like 6 months ago) and i've been into it LIKE,, REALLY INTENSELY. unfortunately for me, i've also been enduring an 8 month art block, so i wasn't able to do much fanart for it either, BUT HERE WE ARE!! I'M DOING REFERENCE SHEETS FOR ALL THE CHARACTERS (INCLUDING THE SLUGCATS, STARTING WITH PEBBLES, because he has favorite character privileges.

CLASSIC MAIN OUTFIT, decided to add a bit of cyan to the design, due to it complimenting the pink really well, plus cyan seems to be his color anyway

probably my favorite campaign story-wise. i have learned that i cry really damn easily, i'm practically bawling my eyes out every other campaign, this definitely being one of them. anyway, i read Backwards through the Snow on AO3 quite recently, and the idea of the cyan cloak resonated so deeply with me, i just HAD to add it to my design. i literally ordered a custom Pebbles slugcat plush with a cyan cloak, CAN YOU TELL I REALLY LIKE THIS IDEA? if the writer of this fic is by chance reading this, this may not be direct fanart of this fic, BUT I LOVE YOUR FIC SO MUCH, THANK YOU FOR WRITING IT

okay so i said i cry really easily,, i uhhh,, i really went through it in Saint's campaign, LIKE GUYS. YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND, I WAS LITERALLY SITTING ON THE FLOOR CRYING ABOUT SILLY PIXEL GAME. i am so weak for this stuff, i really put myself through it by having to draw this. i finished it earlier today, i've lived today off of a coffee, a soba and 3 hours of sleep and you can probably tell by this post. uhmmm anyway, this post was meant to be me talking about my design, but i definitely did not do that. I HOPE YOU ENJOYED MY RAMBLINGS ANYWAY, maybe i'll actually go in-depth on this design tomorrow, WE'LL SEE

#rain world #rain world downpour #five pebbles #rw iterator #iterator #rw downpour #rw five pebbles #rw pebbles #rain world five pebbles #rain world pebbles #i like pebbles a lot #can you tell #i probably should've posted this after a full night's sleep #but ah well #too late now

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okkotsuus · 1 year

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Hello, I like what you write, could you do a scenario of Isagi, Rin, Reo and Chigiri as your boyfriend reacting when your ex wants you back?Thank you😊

ex encounters (bllk pt.1) !

you got me blushing anon <3

features: yoichi i. rin i. reo m. hyoma c.

content: bad exes. ig hurt comfort. they're adults. 1.8k words

tw for the exes: toxic relationship, cheating, gas lighting, narcissism, wrist grabbing, being physically imposing, acusations

pt.2 — pt.3 — pt.4

isagi gets a little insecure but it all goes away when he sees how you look at him versus how you look at your ex, then he gets a little prideful.

you and isagi were getting coffee at your favorite cafe when someone tapped you on the shoulder. isagi had gone to the bathroom so you were all alone, and your rat-ass ex was standing in front of you. the man had cheated on you and had the audacity to try to gaslight you about it, so you promptly dumped him.

but that was about a year ago, you had been with isagi for around nine months. why was he here?

your expression very visibly fell as you looked at him, gaze cold and unbothered. you sipped your coffee while waiting for him to speak.

"baby, please take me back, i'll never do it again. i promise, i miss you so much-" you cut him off by holding your hand up. seeing as his jaw clenched you knew he was still the same person.

"no, not in a million years. besides, i have a boyfriend who actually loves me, and i love him." you watched as he rolled his eyes, looking at the empty seat in front of you, the only evidence of isagi was a plate of cheesecake, which you immediately knew wouldn't be enough.

"don't see him, must not be that great." your lip curled in disgust as you looked behind him to see isagi coming out of the bathroom.

your face lit up as you got up, shoving past the guy to hug him. isagi was confused as he hugged you back. he looked at the guy confused as you looked up at your boyfriend with a pout.

"yoichi, this is the rat." he immediately know who you were talking about, having heard the entire story from you. he nudged you behind him as he glowered at your ex, not amused.

"what're you here for, she's better off without you." the guy flinched, clearly recognizing isagi as japan's number one striker. he mumbled some obscenities before trailing off.

yoichi turned back to you, watching as your hardened gaze follwed your ex until he was out the door. when he was gone your eyes snapped to him, instantly softening and filling with adoration.

all of isagi's insecurities disappeared when he saw such fondness spread across your face. he took your hand and intertwined it with his, bringing them up to press a kiss to your knuckles.

"y'don't need to worry sunshine, i'll keep scarin' him away."

rinnie is unbothered, if anything he's annoyed that you dated such a lukewarm, immature, imbecilic, tepid, moronic... okay, maybe he's a little jealous.

rin had gone to order your food while you sat in the booth of your favorite dinner. sipping your drink as you idly tapped on your phone while waiting for your beloved boyfriend to come back.

"yo, y/n? that you?" you heard his voice from a few feet away, your heart dropping. your ex, your first boyfriend, your only boyfriend before rin. why was he here? you moved away from university and broke up with him after finding out he was talking to other girls while you were gone. then, in your despair, you met rin. honestly, he was the reason you even had rin, so a part of you was faintly grateful.

you turned and saw him, he looked the exact same. maybe his hair was a little shorter and his features had sharpened, but he was the same boy that broke your heart. you felt a familiar sting behind your eyes as he walked to you, smiling as if he didn't make you bawl your eyes out on a bench in the rain.

"you look great, how's uni? you still trying to do sports med?" you just nodded while muttering out that university was good.

the conversation was very one-sided as he tried to catch-up while you gave one or two word responses.

"i know yer probably not happy t'see me. but i just wanted to ask if i could have another chance. i've really worked on myself these last two years, and i just miss you so much..." he trailed off and you felt your heart stop. there was no way, no actual way this was happening. you wanted to cry, scream, and hit him all at he same time.

you opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by a monotone, baritone sound that grounded you. "you're lukewarm, stop talking to them.”

rin. rin itoshi, your wonderful boyfriend, yet again he saves the day. your ex spun around angrily, before visibly flinching as rin towered over him.

"aren't you r-rin itoshi?" his tone was meek as he looked at you, in shock. he didn't believe that you knew a soccer powerhouse like this. right, you had forgotten. your ex played soccer an dreamed of going pro one day, unfortunately he wasn't good enough. you felt a bitter grin cross your face, he wasn't as good as rin; at soccer, or at winning your heart.

"yeah, and i'm their boyfriend. so piss off" rin's jaw was tight as he shoved past, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. rin knew who he was. rin had met you while you were crying over him, so this was incredibly important for him to instate his dominance.

your ex pathetically stalked away, very clearly crushed. rin sat down across from you and rest his chin on his hand. his eyes looked on you and were happy to see that your despondence was gone, replaced with love for him.

"he's pathetic, guess your standards went sky-high when you met me".

reo just pulls out his black card and shows it to the dude with an arm wrapped around your shoulders, he isn't very threatened, not in a way he needs to let you see.

you were waiting for reo in the lobby of the mikage corporation building. you were supposed to go out for lunch but he got held up by something that needed to be done, so you were sitting in the lobby waiting. the last place you planned to see your ex was in the company your boyfriend was the president of.

"y/n, how strange to see you here." the hairs on your neck straightened as you turned to see your ex. he was terrible. a narcissist who constantly berated you on the slightest flaw, who blamed everything on you.

you blinked hoping that it was an illusion, but he was still there. and he was approaching. you stood and were about to leave when he grabbed you by the wrist, keeping you in place.

"this is good, i've been meaning to talk to you, but it seems my texts and calls aren't going through..." you shivered as you tugged your wrist from him, holding it close to your chest as you looked away.

he just continued, gaze drilling you further and further into the spot. "y'know you need me, can't do anything on your own. so let's just get back together."

you furiously shook your head, unable to speak. but when he just lurched further forwards you felt your heart stop, calling the only thing that came to mind.

"REO!!" your ex just laughed at you, but he was yanked back as you saw a familiar head of violet hair. your ex shouted as you huddled behind the suited back of your boyfriend, reo mikage.

"who the hell do you think you are?!" your ex was pissed as reo scoffed, shuffling around in his pocket. he then pulled out a black card and showed the man the name on the front.

"i'm reo mikage, president of mikage corporations. consider yourself fired." you watched as your ex fumed, reo shoving his card back into his wallet and holding you around your shoulder.

"I'LL SUE YOU, FOR EVERYTHING YOU ARE!!"

"do it. i have good lawyers, and we have camera and eyewitness evidence of you harassing them." he snapped and security dragged your ex out, he was kicking and screaming all sorts of obscenities.

reo kissed your cheek before hugging you tight, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

"need to buy you a necklace with my last name on it, or maybe i'll just make it your last name too..."

if anything he just laughs at you having to deal with your ex, but the second he gets too pushy, chigiri loses his laughs and instead stands by your side glaring at him.

you were on call with chigiri a he drove over to meet you outside your favorite restaurant. he had just hung up to park as you waited patiently for him.

"is that you baby?" you didn't expect to see your ex here, he lived on the other side of japan, you ensured this when you moved very far away from him. he was mean, yelled a lot, the generic asshole ex.

you spun around to see him, stepping back as you just stared. maybe if you don't say anything he'll go away-

"i'm so sorry, please take me back. i promise that i'll be nicer, i miss you so much." he stood in front of you pleading as you winced, very much not wanting to have this conversation.

"erm- no, i can't. i already have a boyfriend." it was then you saw chigiri standing a little further away as he giggled while sending you a smirk. he probably thought this guy was hitting on you, not an ex. chigiri knows you can handle yourself usually, but this was a special situation.

your ex looked at you with his teeth bared, first clenched by his side as he glowered down at you. "so you've already moved on, must've never loved me. probably cheated too..."

you backed up further as he glared at you, suddenly feeling chigiri's comforting presence and smelling his cologne. he had an arm wrapped around your waist as he glared at your ex.

when your ex saw him he stepped back a bit, chigiri was pretty tall. and your ex was all bark no bite. the man just stalked off while chigiri kissed your temple.

"sorry pretty, didn't know that was your ex, he's ugly anyways."

okkotsuus 23

#bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #yoichi isagi #yoichi isagi x reader #isagi x reader #isagi #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #rin #reo mikage #reo mikage x reader #reo x reader #reo #hyoma chigiri #hyoma chigiri x reader #chigiri x reader #chigiri

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yandereshingeki · 1 year

Text

Milk, Honey, and Sugar

Yandere Eren x Reader

Milk Honey and Sugar Masterlist

previous • next

Word Count: 12.7k

Content: College AU, Yandere content, Obsessive and Possessive behavior, Fluff, Smut, Dark content, Jiyuu beloved

Content Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, Obsessive Behavior, Eren is a bit of a pervert, but somehow also shy about it, reader going thru it, Eren is described at taller than reader, Pet names (Angel, Baby), Dubcon (from stockholm syndrome), Eren is SO WEAK TO YOU, you’re both a bit shy, Reader is implied to be a tiny bit insecure, Tiddy sucking, Falacio, hand job, Little bit of subby! Eren but only a little, description of Eren’s dick lol, reader makes him CRY, mention of him pulling their hair a little, a smidge of edging, aftercare

Summary: After the realization hits that you aren't ever going to see your friends again, Eren is the one to comfort you—slowly turning you more and more dependent on him.

Oh my goddd It's been so long and I'm so sorry!!! A bunch of things got in the way of me writing for a while, but It's finally back! I'm going to try to focus on this series more so hopefully, there won't be such a big gap in posting again! I already have the next part nearly finished so it shouldn't be long before the next chapter! Also, I'd like to say thank you to anyone that's still here after my absence and anyone that's been here from before :,,) I'm so grateful. I hope this is enough to satisfy until the next chapter! There's a little doodle at the end for you all <33 Can't wait to write the most exciting parts of the story!! (In my opinion at least, lol) Please enjoyy

Chapter 7: Warmth (part 1)

The hours grew longer the more days you spent alone.

Your world was quiet, apart from the tick of the plastic analog clock or the occasional sound of water going through pipes and creaking footsteps from above. Being stuck on your own was such a lonely, stir-crazy existence. The only time you found solace from it was when Eren would make his way down the stairs, greeting you with his abnormally gentle smile and a soft kiss, giving you the company you constantly longed for and sometimes a consoling meal.

He had you wrapped around his finger by now, so tired of the isolation and quiet that you’d do almost anything if it meant he’d stay, just to ease your loneliness for a while. He was a distraction you took with little resistance because you didn’t want to think about the pain of being trapped for even a second.

He seemed to be the only thing that helped your ever-fragile mood, the one thing keeping you grounded as your mental stability frayed. It was hell when he would leave you, forcing you to face the cold basement alone again. You’d try to sleep through it, but sometimes your brain wouldn’t quiet and your emotions would explode to the point that you’d bawl your eyes out and sob until your nose was clogged and your head ached, your mind plagued with the overbearing thoughts of your long-gone friends and freedom. If they’d been looking, you were sure they would have found you by now. It should’ve been so obvious who’d taken you. Or maybe, everyone was too trusting of Eren to realize that deep down, he was an obsessive stalker, someone who kidnapped his best friend.

Either way, your hope of being found had almost completely diminished. With no access to the outside world, you didn’t even know if a search was ongoing. You had no motivation anymore, even for escape—although it’s not like you could because Eren hadn’t let you go upstairs since your last attempt. He hadn’t touched you the same way he did that night either, occasionally letting his soft kisses grow more heated but never going as far as he did then. You almost missed it. The intimacy, that is. He’d been nothing but sweet to you most of the time, even when all you could do was cry into him.

You felt pathetic being in such a state, constantly switching between craving his presence and despising him for taking you away. You barely felt deserving of being rescued since you gave in to your captor so quickly. Would anyone even want to help you if they knew what you’d done with him? How close you’d remained even after his betrayal? It brought a sick feeling to your stomach whenever you thought about it. All of the lame excuses and blaming your actions on your once adolescent crush or your dwindling will to escape. You knew the truth, yet you still didn’t want to admit it.

It’d been four weeks since your failed escape, and just a little over a month of being stuck in the basement—not that you even knew the specifics of how long it’d been because of how your days began to blend. Since your attempt, Eren spent more time downstairs, sometimes taking his entire day off to stay with you, slowly making you more dependent on his presence because it was all you had.

Akin to every other day, it started with his journey down, breakfast in hand and laptop under his arm, the device fully charged and ready for another day of playing offline games and watching videos or movies. But, also like every other day, his plans, per usual, were halted when he reached the bottom of the steps and saw you curled up on the bed, crying into your palms.

His guilt overflowed whenever he saw you like that, but he pushed it away when he remembered all the things that could’ve happened if he hadn’t brought you here. All of the people that could have gotten to you, the things they could have done to you. It made him irrationally angry just thinking about it. In his house, you were safe, and he always knew where you were. To him, that was worth the pain it brought you.

Laying everything on the desk, he rushed to sit next to you, trapping you in his comforting arms and pulling you into his lap, “What’s wrong, baby?”

He always asked that when you cried, always with the same pet names he’d use to try and ease your tears. You always replied that you didn’t want to discuss it, but he knew what the truth behind your sadness was. He knew it was because you missed everyone and you were terrified of telling him.

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” You said, as usual, voice hoarse from tears that’d been pouring since you woke up. You put your head against him, soaking the white pajama t-shirt while he rubbed your back and cradled you like a child. His warmth and his pleasant autumn-like scent made it harder to focus on your problems, the comfort pulling you back to him in an instant. Sometimes it was like you were addicted, craving the constant reassurance of his presence and the distraction from your situation.

This had become almost routine—he would come downstairs or wake up with you, find you crying, and drop everything to comfort you, just to continue whatever he had planned for the day after as if nothing happened. It was such an exhausting pattern for you, but he couldn't care less. All he cared for was being able to have you with him where you were safe. Being able to hold and touch you was just a bonus.

He held you as tight as he could, trying to make you feel secure while compressed in his arms. You could only snuggle into him, pushing your ear against his chest to listen to his racing heart. It was a calming and familiar white noise that helped distract you from the fact that you were probably never going to get out. It helped you feel sane and reminded you that Eren was another human too.

He sighed feeling you ease into him, finally safe enough to relax too. The room was quiet other than the gentle sounds of breathing and the mechanical ticking of the clock. It was almost peaceful like this, just the two of you cuddled up together. Listening to each other’s soft sounds and finding comfort in them.

“Can I have breakfast now?” You asked, your voice still crackling from your dry throat. You were sniffling and your face was still wet from past tears, but you were more hungry than upset now and didn’t want to wait for food anymore.

Eren smiled and slid you off his lap, making sure to plant a loving kiss on your forehead before he got up to grab the wooden breakfast tray from the desk. He walked back, setting it on your lap and revealing the stack of 4 heart-shaped pancakes to you that still radiated the warmth from being cooked. There was a tiny plate of butter and a cup of syrup sitting next to it, along with a ceramic mug of Eren’s favorite drink, his warm milk with honey and sugar mixed in. He always used to give it to you every time you came over, trying desperately to get you to favor it, and every time it always tasted bland. Not bad, but it didn’t fit your normal preference for drinks.

Recently though, whenever he’d give it to you with your breakfast, it was much sweeter than before. The milk and honey blended together with a pinch of dissolved sugar just tasted saccharine all of a sudden.

At first, you questioned if he spiked it, but when nothing happened after you drank it, you abandoned the idea. It felt so strange to suddenly enjoy something you’d been so indifferent about, but you didn’t want to overthink it. After all, you just wanted to enjoy the warmth from whatever he made you—to enjoy his warmth because it was all you had.

“Well, are you going to eat?” Eren asked, questioning why you were staring at your food for so long.

Realizing that you’d spaced out while deep in thought, you muttered a quick “sorry” before grabbing the dull plastic knife on the tray to spread the butter over your pancakes.

While you were preparing your breakfast to your liking, Eren sat on the bed again, placing his arm behind you and sliding as close as he could without getting in your way, your thighs pressing together and his cheek almost touching your head.

He watched intensely as you cut into the syrup-soaked cake and stabbed into the small piece you separated, chomping down on it. As you chewed and swallowed it, he leaned his head on yours to get your attention, “Is it good? Did you like it?”

Nodding your head, you cut out another piece to shove into your mouth, “They’re really good! Did you make them from scratch?”

Eren smiled, feeling his heart melt when you gave him praise. He always ate up every little compliment you gave him, no matter how small it was. It was like a hit of dopamine every time you were even the tiniest bit nice—and he was addicted to it. Once he’d even kicked his legs and squealed into his pillow after you commented that he looked hot in a picture he posted, but that was a secret he would be taking to his grave.

“It’s my mom’s recipe… I just made them with a heart-shaped pan for the shape.” He replied, leaning into you and burying his face into the side of your neck while you continued to eat.

“I didn’t know you owned a heart-shaped pan,” You paused mid-bite, “When did that happen?”

“I got it when all of the Valentine's Day stuff was on clearance in stores… I just hid it in my room because I didn’t want anyone to see it while they were here.” He explained, his cheeks warming up at the thought of someone other than you seeing he owned such a bright pink and heart-shaped pan.

You giggled at his embarrassment and kept eating, enjoying the sweet syrup-soaked pancakes while you could. They were delicious, but especially warm compared to everything else, and you were so desperate to have that warmth that you were scarfing them down and barely savoring the taste. The sweet milk with honey came next, the most familiar part of the meal. You chugged it down so fast that you could feel its heat travel down to your stomach, officially ending your breakfast that morning.

It almost made you sad whenever you finished your food. You always felt extra cold after, especially without Eren there. It was never fun to experience.

“All done?” Eren asked, not allowing you a response before taking the tray from you. He placed it on the nightstand at the foot of the bed and went back to you, pushing you onto your back and crawling on top of you without warning.

After taking a moment to maneuver himself around and get more comfortable, he placed his head on your shoulder and embraced you, the weight of his body crushing you into the mattress. It hurt a little and almost restricted your breathing, but having what was similar to a heated and weighted blanket on top of you was nice.

He always did this when you finished your breakfast. It was one of his favorite things to do too. He loved being close to you, breathing in your scent and littering tiny kisses all over your neck and collarbone. It felt wonderful to claim you like that.

As you cocooned him with your limbs, he wriggled his way down until his head met your chest, putting his face between your breasts and squeezing you so they squished against his face. You let a gasp slip, face growing hot as a large smile formed on his lips.

You tried to push against him to get him off, but you struggled immensely from his weight compared to your strength. It took almost all your energy to get him to budge, but he finally got the hint and sat up after minutes of your whining and squirming—only to grab your chest and squeeze as soon as his hands were free.

You flinched and simultaneously gasped at the sudden grope, yelling at him with fake anger while batting his arms, “You’re such a fucking perv!”

He chuckled and put his hand on the bed to lean down, his reddened cheeks so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your face, “Yeah, sure. But you love me, don’t you?”

You were silent while you considered what to say, afraid to lie to him but knowing that if you gave him any answer other than yes, he’d probably lose it on you. You did love him. You really did, but not in the way he wanted you to. You didn’t think you did, at least. He was just a safe space for you. A source of comfort while you were trapped. That didn’t mean you loved him, did it?

Growing insecure at your lack of response, Eren squeezed your arm just tight enough to regain your attention and asked you again, this time with more desperation lingering, “Don’t you, angel?”

Without thinking it over more, you gave him an unconvincing answer, “Yes. I do.”

Satisfied with your response, he gave you a quick peck on the lips and got up to grab his laptop from the desk. You watched him carefully the whole time, sitting up and eyeing him as he picked up the small computer and carried it back to you.

He placed carefully it in your lap, plopping down and leaning into you like he did during breakfast, his arm slung around your waist. You stared at the sticker-covered computer in your lap, your hands trembling while you considered asking him about going back upstairs again instead of spending another day in bed binging a random show you chose.

You’d asked previously, even begged him to give you another chance, but his answer was always the same. He’d tell you that he isn’t ready for that, or that he doesn’t trust you yet. If you tried to ask repeatedly or beg for it, he would get angry with you and even lash out, leaving you alone for the entire day as a punishment, no matter how loud your cries got or how much it stung him to hear them.

“Can I ask something before we start, Eren?” You managed to get out, your words shaking as you spoke.

You could feel him tense up next to you as you asked, his gaze now fixated on the laptop instead of you.

“What is it?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

You opened your mouth to talk but stuttered so much trying to get the first word out that you had to pause again before talking.

“Can I go upstairs for the day?” You pleaded, quickly adding onto it so he couldn’t instantly deny you, “I’ll do anything you want! Please! I just… want to leave the basement for a while.”

Silence followed.

You were shaking, terrified of what he was thinking. He was staring at the floor, his brows furrowed as he ran through all of his options. He wasn’t angry, not yet at least. He only would be if you pushed for it too much, but he still hated having to answer that question. Why couldn’t you just be happy with what he gave you? He understood that you were bored and lonely, but it was still frustrating. It was so, so frustrating.

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet,” was all he could manage in response, because If he said any more or got too aggressive there would be tears. And he was so weak to your tears. It was the sole reason he always had to leave you when you cried to be let out. If he stayed, his already weak spirit might break, and then you could weave your way into having your way and escaping. He didn’t want to risk anything close to that.

Despite his effort to avoid it, tears began to prickle in the corner of your eyes, almost as if on command. You wanted to leave so badly that you were partially willing to give up your hope of escape if it meant you could at least have that. You would give all of it, just to have that ounce of freedom and self-autonomy back.

“I don’t want to leave anymore, Eren! I promise! Chain my ankles or handcuff me to you, whatever! Please, just let me go upstairs with you!” You begged. It was evident you were pushing his limit with the look that took over his face, but you didn’t know what else you could do to convince him.

Eren shut his eyes, the frown on his face deepening, “Baby, please. Don’t do this today.”

“Please, Eren. Please.” You begged again, the first fearful tear spilling over your cheek. The look you gave him was painful, his chest tightening the longer he stared at you. You’d done this almost every day for the last week and it was so aggravating. He hated being separated from you but you forced it on him by pleading so often.

He looked away from you and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands as he snapped at you, “Why? Why do you want to so badly?! Can’t you just be happy with what I give you?”

He finished with a sigh and waited quietly for your response, but nothing came. You were silent.

It took Eren several moments to realize that you weren’t going to talk back, so when he finally lifted his head and looked at you, the sight ripped his heart in two.

You had your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth covered as you sobbed into it, trying to hide the sounds so you wouldn’t irritate him more, but seeing you cry like that with such obvious fear diminished any anger he had. He hated being the cause of your tears. He hated it.

Pulling you into his arms again and pushing the laptop aside, he apologized profusely and held you tighter. You whimpered into him, gripping his shirt while he pushed your face against his chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m sorry for snapping, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He had his hand on your head, digging his fingers into your hair while he repeated his apology, “Please stop crying. Please, you know I hate hearing you cry.”

You hiccuped, holding your breath to choke down your tears. You held it in for a few more moments until you couldn’t anymore, taking an involuntary breath and sobbing into his shirt. In a poor attempt to silence it, you covered your mouth while you cried, quietly begging him not to leave you between sobs. It broke his heart.

He tried to reassure you, hugging you tightly and petting your head while he cooed, “I won’t leave. I won’t leave this time.”

It took a while, but following a few violent hiccups, silenced sobs, and deep, difficult inhales, your tears were dissipating and you were calming down, clinging to Eren as if your life depended on it.

He held you close, basking in your touch. He knew why you wanted to leave the basement. He was stupid to think that being trapped there would be enough for you, but after the last time he let you up, he was terrified that you’d try to leave again. If you ever did manage to get away from him, it would mean he’d lose everything, and he didn’t even want to think about that happening.

You needed to stay with him, where you were safe. Where he could watch over you. But, it was clear you also needed at least a little freedom, otherwise, your mental state could deteriorate even more than it already had, and that would be just as bad as losing you through escape. He didn’t want to reduce you to a shell of your former self. He didn’t want to break you. He just wanted to keep you to himself.

Thinking it over some more while you were wiping your face on his shirt, Eren decided to go against his better judgment and give in to what you wanted, which was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. It was easier that way, considering you were both feeling awful about your situation.

“I’ll—I’ll take you upstairs. I’ll take you upstairs today.” He blurted out, sounding reluctant to say it out loud.

Your entire mood had changed from just that sentence, perking your head up so you could meet his eyes from where you sat on his lap. Eyes wide with excitement, they were lighting up more than they had in the month you’d been stuck there. It was nice for him to see. He’d missed that sparkle so much.

“I’ll only let you come up if you follow my rules though, okay? If you break them I’m sending you back down and I won’t even think about letting you up for at least a year.” He aggressively added to his previous statement, wanting to be clear with what he expected of you so there wouldn’t be any complaints later.

You rapidly nodded your head, getting ready to agree to whatever he asked if it meant getting that slight sliver of freedom in the end. Lucky for you, he didn’t want to take advantage of your eagerness—not too much at least. He loved you too much to hurt you like that.

With a small sigh, Eren slid you off of his lap and took his laptop, holding out his hand for you after he got up. You took it with a large smile plastered on your face, pulling yourself onto your feet and practically skipping to the stairs because of how happy you were. He was slow to follow after you, not particularly joyful about letting you out of the safe haven he’d created for you, but still willing to if it meant he got to see your bright smile again.

Once he made it to the top, he was hesitant to unlock the door. He really didn’t want to let you out, but when he looked over and saw how excited you looked standing next to him, he couldn’t help but picture how upset you were just prior, and how quickly that changed when he said you could go upstairs. Keeping you locked up and to himself was already selfish enough, he didn’t want to keep suffering even more in a cold basement for his own benefit.

Before he went through the final step of opening the door, he grabbed your hand and squeezed it tight. He was trying to make sure you couldn’t just run off, but also trying to reassure himself that he was doing the right thing. With a final heavy sigh, he unlocked the door and turned the knob with his laptop under his arm, pushing it open and revealing the dim light of morning to you.

You tried to run, not with a hope to escape but more so out of excitement—but Eren was quick to pull you back to him and remind you of your place.

“Don’t forget what I told you.” He spoke sternly, the grip on your hand growing tighter to the point that it hurt.

His rules—to behave. To do what he asked. From the first time he let you upstairs. The same rules that you broke the last time you were here, and not just because he was vague about what “behaving” meant. Of course, you couldn’t forget.

You sounded dejected as you looked at the creaky wooden floor, “I’m just… excited. Sorry.”

Sighing, he sauntered forward while pushing you with him, taking the lead but ultimately doing what you wanted by going to the living room.

Jiyuu got visibly excited when you walked into his view, his fluffy wings opening up slightly while he paced back and forth on the giant bird tree across the room, considering if it was worth it to fly over.

Eren stopped in his tracks, a small smile brightening his face when he realized what the bird wanted. He always thought it was sweet that he liked you, despite parrots' common behavior of being possessive over their owner. It also made your integration into his home a lot easier, so he wouldn’t have to worry about the bird going after you whenever he was affectionate with you.

“Why don’t you go pick him up?” He asked, trying to push you forward, closer to Jiyuu.

Excited to see the bird—a living creature other than Eren—but terrified of doing something wrong and being punished for it, you turned to look at him, asking for reassurance that this wasn’t a trap, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. I won’t be mad at you for walking away from me this time.” He assured you, the hand on your back pushing you even further, harsher this time to the point you almost stumbled.

You stepped forward with hesitance, slowly gaining confidence the closer you got to Jiyuu, your saving grace from complete isolation with Eren. Watching carefully, Eren stayed behind, his gaze burning holes into the back of your head. It made you so nervous, his eyes fixated on your every move. Being watched so closely was highly unpleasant and anxiety-inducing, and you could tell that Jiyuu didn’t like it either.

Climbing onto you when you held your arm out, Jiyuu was quick to run to your shoulder and puff his feathers up, squawking loudly at Eren. He’d never been especially protective of you, nor aggressive towards Eren, so this behavior was completely new—at least to you. It was especially shocking because of how loud he was able to scream, the sound triggering a constant ringing in your ears.

“Eren? What’s wrong with him?” You panicked, turning to see what the bird was so upset about that he had to shriek, only to be face-to-face with Eren. His knees bent slightly so he met your height, startling you even more when you unexpectedly met his piercing green pupils.

His eyes were glued to the bird, his hand lifted in front of him so he would step up from your shoulder. To your surprise, the bird nipped at his hand and chewed on it, stepping on it when he was finished and acting like he hadn’t just screamed at him. “He’s just being moody. Don’t mind it too much, he just gets like this sometimes, ‘specially when I’m not in the best mood. He can tell.”

As he put Jiyuu back on the tree stand to chew on more of his toys, he walked closer and wrapped his arm around you, practically forcing you into his chest with his laptop pressed against your back. When his other hand was free from the bird’s talons, it joined his other to squeeze you tightly, keeping you close as he leaned over you, inhaling the comforting scent from your skin and hair.

You returned the hug, trying to distract yourself from the sinking feeling you had in your chest when he implied that he wasn’t in a good mood. It was obvious it was because of you—because you wanted to go upstairs. It made you feel so guilty, but also so afraid. He could be unpredictable when he was upset, which is probably why Jiyuu didn’t like it either.

“Why don’t we just watch some TV for now? Since he’s in such a bad mood and I still want to laze around…” He spoke up, backing away but leaving little space between you and him.

Without a thought, you nodded, ready to agree to almost anything as long as it would improve his mood and keep you out of your personal hell known as the basement. With your compliance, he was quick to drag you back onto the couch, setting the laptop down on the coffee table and pouncing, crushing you under his weight. Your whines went ignored by him in favor of grabbing the remote to activate the TV, bringing up the news before he swiftly changed it to an on-demand streaming service. He put on one of your favorite shows—one you’d already watched, probably dozens of times since you’d come here—and threw the controller

down, burying his face into your chest and engulfing you in his arms.

Resting your hands on his back when you finally processed everything he’d sped through in seconds, you focused more on him than the TV, although only able to see the top of his head and his messy bun. His face was buried between your boobs again, except this time, instead of smiling and teasing you about it, he shut his eyes and eased into you, feeling secure enough to relax with you trapped underneath him. The shift in mood was apparent, but all you could think to do was run your hands through his hair, hoping that would soothe him enough to think about letting you stay upstairs more often.

It was silent after that, besides the background noise of the TV playing and Jiyuu preening his feathers and chewing wood. You were both clinging to each other, unmoving and resting. Eren was so warm, it almost made you tired—but you didn’t want to sleep. Not when you were finally experiencing what you’d wanted so badly for weeks. You longed to walk around and explore the house more, but he probably wouldn’t let you. It was frustrating.

“Eren?” You said, trying to get his attention on you instead of whatever he was thinking about in the silence.

He hummed in reply, not bothering to lift his head because he was too comfortable with his face against your chest.

You twirled some of his loose hair between your fingers, silently trying to persuade him as you asked, “Can we go to your room? I want to see more than just your living room and kitchen.”

Before you could continue with your long-winded speech trying to convince him to let you go to a different part of the house, he interrupted you with a finger over your lips, letting out a muffled “mm-mm” while he shook his head that was still against your chest. You frowned, moving his finger away from your mouth and continuing to push, “Why not?”

A scowl took over his face as he peered up at you, his chin stabbing into your sternum when he replied with aggressive venom in his tone, “Because I said no. Drop it.”

Once you nodded, a look of stinging fear glazing your eyes, his expression relaxed and he put his face back into your chest. Although your response calmed him, his answer did nothing to satiate your curiosity. You’d been in his room a few times prior to the kidnapping, so what was so different about now?

You let out a small sigh, continuing to run your hands through his hair but turning your attention towards the TV that still played your favorite show, although you’d begun to get rather tired of it after watching it over and over so much. Especially now, when watching different shows and dramas was all Eren had let you do aside from occasionally letting you play games on his laptop. As relaxing as the routine used to be, it was starting to grow excruciatingly dull. There were only so many days you could do nothing but laze around before you grew tired of it.

“Eren.” You began again, desperate for something to entertain you. You didn’t want to spend all your time out of the basement doing the same thing you did in it.

With a quiet groan, he lifted his head again and frowned, “What now?”

“I’m bored… I want to do something other than watch TV.”

Realizing that you weren’t trying to annoy him about getting into his room again, his eyes softened and he replied with a sweeter tone, “Like what?”

“I don’t know. You have games, don’t you?”

“In my room, yeah. But I don’t want you going in there right now and I’m not leaving you alone to grab anything.”

“Then what else can we do?”

When you asked, his brows scrunched together and he averted your gaze, deep in thought. You watched carefully, worried that he would become irate if you were too talkative while he was trying to relax.

Slowly, his cheeks darkened as an idea popped into his head—one he’d usually tried to push away so that he wouldn’t risk making you feel uncomfortable with your already fragile emotional state, but right now? You seemed to be in a better mood, and much more content with doing just about anything to ease your boredom. There was nothing to stand in the way of his selfish desires.

Noticing the way his former annoyance bloomed into a red-faced fluster, you grew worried and tried to turn his head so he’d look at you, only for him to avoid meeting your eyes. His cheeks were burning hot to the touch and you could tell he had something on his mind.

“What’s wrong?” You tried to ask calmly despite the tremble in your voice, mentally preparing yourself for whatever emotion he might reply with.

A silent pause followed, and he barely managed to stutter it out, his hesitancy to explain his thoughts holding the words back, “I thought of something we could do if you are really that against just watching TV, but—but it’s kind of lewd. It’s—It’s really lewd actually.”

You could feel your cheeks grow warm at all the things that could mean, quietly urging him to continue out of curiosity about his desire, “Yes…? What is it?”

He was quiet again before he met your eyes, replying with a faltering voice full of anxiety, “I was thinking that maybe… we could take turns touching each other, and we could—I could learn more about your body… and we could make it into a game, I guess? If you really want to, the person who finds the most sensitive spots on the other person could win. That would make it more fun, right? Would something like that interest you more than TV?”

He stared at you with pleading puppy eyes while awaiting your response, his pupils swallowing his irises that practically glowed as they peered into your soul.

Your entire face burned hot, now matching his. You were like shy kids confessing to each other, so tense and unnerved.

Speaking with an unfamiliar kind of softness in his voice, he sounded like he would explode with embarrassment if you didn’t respond well, “We don’t have to, but I just—I just really want to touch you again. Even without the ‘game’ part. I’ve missed it. A lot.”

He felt so perverted just saying it out loud.

His offer was tempting, but you didn’t know if you could trust it. Your judgment had felt so clouded recently and you’d been giving into him more under the guise of gaining enough freedom to escape, but how much would you need before you tried to leave again? The thought of escaping was crossing your mind less and less, and you were growing used to being with only Eren all the time, getting dangerously close to enjoying it.

Part of you was terrified of ever leaving, terrified of how your friends would react when they found out what you’d already let him do to you, and terrified of leaving what you’d just started becoming accustomed to—but another part of you was terrified to stay. If you did, how far would things go? How deep of a hole would you dig for yourself before it was too late to get out?

“We don’t have to!” He repeated, pulling you out of your thoughts, “I could just find something else for us to do if you don’t want to,”

“It’s okay! It’s fine, it’s fine. We can do that.” You blurted out without processing what you were saying. The last thing you wanted was to upset him, so satisfying him was the only option even if it went against your better judgment. You could deal with the guilt later, but right now you had to focus on keeping his trust. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to give in and have a little fun with someone you’d trusted while you could, take advantage and get the experience you missed out on years before. You’d rather it be him than a stranger. That’s what you told yourself, at least.

“Really? Are you sure?” He asked again to reassure your consent while his lips shifted into a sly smile.

No. You weren’t. But you’d already made your bed, and you’d rather lie in it than rip off the sheets and start from the beginning, “Yeah. I am.”

There was a small moment of silence, the two of you staring at each other before he jumped off of the couch, swiftly making his way to the tree where Jiyuu was. He was quick to take his feathery friend to his cage, closing the door and covering it with the blanket he’d normally only use for him at night. Despite the bird's clear displeasure of being put to bed early, showcased through his sad-sounding caws as the cage was locked, he left the cover on and returned to you on the couch, towering over you with half-lidded eyes and a beet-red face.

“Uh, could you get on my lap when I sit down?” He asked timidly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You responded by nodding and sliding to the side, allowing him to sit while he dragged you onto his lap to straddle him.

Once again, it grew quiet. You were looking at anything but each other, the awkward tension making it difficult to keep eye contact. You were both used to intimate actions, but not intimate words, so anything you thought of saying fell short before it could leave your lips.

It felt like you were fumbling teenagers again, lacking experience and not knowing where to begin—although Eren was the only one of you who had any to begin with. The most you had under your belt was some awkward and sloppy kissing between you and your short-term ex-boyfriends from high school, but he didn’t know that.

“Since this is a game… Do I get anything if I win?” You asked first, trying to break the ice and guarantee at least something good would come out of this.

You watched the cogs turn in Eren’s head for a moment before he responded, trying to figure out how to word it so that you didn’t request anything unreasonable after his answer, “I guess you can have something… Just tell me what, as long as it doesn’t have anything to do with leaving.”

It only took you a minute to decide what you wanted, the idea popping into your head rather quickly when you thought about what he would actually be willing to give, “Can I go in your room?”

He sighed hearing your response, a cross glare in his eyes while he reluctantly acceded, “Fine, but only if you A, win, and B, give me until tomorrow to clean it.”

The excitement you had grew rapidly, but just as it peaked, it dissipated when you remembered what you would have to do to get your reward, and the fact that it wasn’t guaranteed in the first place. The small smile that’d grown on your face faded once you realized it, and then the pressure ramped up once again.

“So…” He finally began, a short pause holding him while his eyes drifted down to your chest, his hands landing on your hips where he rubbed small circles into them with his thumbs, “Where should we start?”

You were both anxious, but he was the only one trying to hide it. His hands were shaking, but he tried to mask it with subtle movements down your plush thighs. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to feel all of you and run his hands over your entire body—but he wanted to make sure you wanted it too. He needed you to want it too.

“Wherever you want,” you replied, too nervous to say much else. His hands felt like fire against your cold skin, the feeling of them gliding over your body making your cheeks boil.

His fingers grazed down to your knees and back up your body, stopping just below your chest to speak quietly, “I want to touch you everywhere though.”

It was obvious what he wanted to do, but was too nervous to do it. His brows scrunched together while he stared at your chest, sunken in thought. The sight almost had you giggling from how silly he looked like that, so deeply focused on your breasts. To try and urge him forward and get past both of your anxieties, you slowly intertwined your fingers with his, leading his hands up to grope you.

His eyes flicked up to you as he made contact with your chest again, his gaze relaxing and eyes lighting up as they stared into yours. You looked so pretty in your current position, sitting on his lap with your cute thighs squished against him, your hands covering his, and your gorgeous eyes shying away from his stare.

“Can I kiss you? Please?” He asked, leaning in so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of his crimson face while he squeezed you.

Letting out a small squeak from his grip, you decided to skip the verbal reply and gently pushed your lips against his, your noses bumping awkwardly because you were hesitant to do anything that could deepen the kiss further. Despite this, Eren missed the cue and tilted his head to the side, trying desperately to interlock your lips and part yours.

His groping grew rougher as he relaxed, fingers touching your nipples through the thin shirt you wore, the fabric barely shielding how hard they were growing. Your face was burning while he felt you up, sweat beading on your forehead when something stiff pressed against your crotch.

It was so warm. Everything about him was warm. His body, his demeanor, even his smell. It was all so warm compared to the cold you always felt. Even before he took you away, it was always cold. But he was so warm.

“Eren…” you mumbled into his lips, your pulse rising and your arms falling over his shoulders.

He pulled away for a moment, face still inches away from yours, “What is it?”

“You’re warm.”

You could feel him chuckle as you said it, responding with “So are you.”

He kissed you again, this time carefully pushing his tongue between your lips in a way that was less than forceful and moving one of his hands to the back of your neck to hold you there. His touch sent tingles up your spine, your body melting into his hands. It was like your integrity burned away when he was close, and you couldn’t help but crave more.

Eren’s other palm slipped under your shirt, sliding up your stomach and squeezing your bare breast before lifting the fabric further. Your body tensed again, suddenly growing anxious at the thought of him seeing your chest nude. It’s not like he hadn’t before, but it was only now that it felt so nerve-wracking. You couldn’t pinpoint why, but now the thought made your heart race.

When he finally pulled his face away from yours, giving you time to breathe, it was only so he could pull your shirt over your head and throw it aside. Following that, his mouth was back on yours and he was reaching for your chest again—but this time, you stopped him. You took your arms off his neck to cover yourself, anxiety pulsing at the thought of him looking at you more. You didn’t feel this way the other times you’d been nude around him, so why were you so nervous now? Everything was burning all of a sudden, and it almost made you feel sick.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Eren questioned in his sweetest voice, attempting to quell your sudden fear by backing off to cup your cheek, his other hand resting on your thigh. You tried to look him in the eyes, but your stomach sank when you met them. His irises were the brightest, most intimidating green that made your heart ache, you couldn’t stand to stare.

“I’m—I’m kind of scared.” You stammered, staring down at his hand while his thumb rubbed small circles into your skin.

His brows furrowed as he overthought what you said, “Just… all of a sudden? It wasn’t like this before, why now?”

He didn’t mean to seem angry, but his expression showed the opposite. So, feeling pressured with a slight tinge of fear in your eyes, you quietly apologized and began to uncover yourself, afraid of upsetting him and causing any harm that might get you sent back downstairs. He stopped you immediately, grabbing your wrists and holding them so your arms still covered you.

“Don’t apologize… It’s fine if you don’t want to.” He reassured, reaching to grab your shirt beside him on the couch, “I don’t want to do anything if you don’t want to.”

Sadness laced his tone, his expression matching it as he pulled the garment over your head. It wasn’t because you were hesitant to go further with him, you knew that, but your heart hurt to see him making such a face. So sad, even with the tiny smile on his lips that was meant to reassure you. It was more than just wanting to stay upstairs. You wanted to make him feel happy. Even if you felt guilty about how you would do it.

“No, no, Eren…” You stopped him from pulling the shirt down, pushing it back over your chest while you wiped your watering eyes with your other arm. “It’s—It’s not that. I'm just—I’m—So nervous.”

“What are you nervous about?” He asked, trying to avoid the temptation of looking at your now bare torso while he addressed the issue at hand.

“I don’t know,” you started, mentally going through the list of things that were making you anxious to find something to say other than the truth about the shame you felt, “This is just… a lot different than the last few times you’ve seen me naked. You’re so close so you’re going to see… everything.”

“I don’t care what they look like. The only thing I care about is that it’s you.” He grabbed your hands and squeezed them, cheeks blazing red as he leaned close to you to confess, “You’re perfect to me. So perfect.”

Your heart began to swell again, this time for a different reason.

He always made you feel so wanted, even before he took you away, his words like a warm blanket around your needy heart. It almost had you crawling into his hold, with no intention of ever leaving. No one ever praised you like he did, so maybe that’s why it had such a large effect on you. You were so susceptible to it that it was dangerous to your escape, constantly tiptoeing the line between enjoying the praise and falling face-first into Stockholm syndrome. It was a dangerous game you were playing, and without even realizing, you were losing.

“Can… you touch me again?” You asked quietly after letting his praise marinate in your head for a minute, prying your hands out of his to pull your shirt over your breasts again.

Shocked by your sudden switch-up, his eyes widened for a moment before he awkwardly nodded while placing his hands on your waist, finally letting his eyes trail down to your breasts.

Seeing them so close sent blood rushing not only to his face, but also down under, his already semi-hard on pushing uncomfortably against his pants. He wanted to brand them with his bites and kisses, cover them in his spit, and bruise them with hickeys to claim them as his. He was opposed to rushing you though, so all he could do was drag his hands up your torso until they finally cupped around your soft flesh, squeezing lightly just to confirm that he was really touching you and that it wasn’t just another wet dream.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to repeat his reassurances in your head while he fondled you. His normally cold hands were warm against your skin, squishing and playing with your chest and making your already hot body feel like it was burning.

He was pushing them together, bouncing them, and holding them in his palms. It was so embarrassing, but you were trying desperately to keep it together. When you finally brewed up enough confidence to pry your eyes open, you saw how happy he looked, as silly as it was, and it took everything inside of you not to let out a giggle that could’ve embarrassed him. You wanted him to keep enjoying himself, even if your face burned from the awkwardness of it.

But just as you were growing used his hands on you, he threw a question at you that hit like a brick to the face, draining every ounce of courage out of you in a split second, “Can I… suck on them?”

He was leaning towards your chest as he spoke, looking up at you with anticipating eyes that made another wave of intense heat flare through your face. You were barely getting used to his fondling, but to suck on them? You might faint. With no experience except your own fingers and numerous toys, you didn’t even know how sensitive your nipples could be. The thought of squirming around in his lap while he lapped so leisurely on your tits made you shiver. But at the same time, it also piqued your curiosity and made the warmth between your thighs grow. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like.

“Yeah. Sure. That’s—That’s fine. Just—be gentle, ok? No one’s ever done that to me before…” You replied with a shaking voice, brows pushed together with worry while you avoided eye contact.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asked rhetorically, hungry eyes still gazing up at you as he leaned towards your chest. He broke his stare to pull your shirt up and off again, cupping your breasts and latching onto one of your nipples like it was all he was born to do.

You winced in response, anxious to experience the feeling for the first time. Just having your sensitive bud in his mouth felt so different, so warm and wet—so when he took a long, slow lick, you couldn’t stop the whimper that left your throat.

He almost lost his composure right then when he heard that noise. It was amazing, like a slice of a heavenly melody he wanted to keep locked in his brain forever. He wanted more of those sounds. He needed more of them.

With your other breast cupped in his palm, he started to pinch and nudge the bud while he sucked softly on the one in his mouth. You were already letting out more quiet whines, holding the back of his head while your fingers tangled in his hair. You couldn’t even begin to explain the burning pleasure that rippled from your chest to your core or the throbbing ache that proliferated between your thighs. It felt so much better than you imagined, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, Eren being the one to do it made your heart race.

Desperate to pry more sounds from you, his intensity rose by the minute, lips tugging on your nipple and fingers pinching the other. As more soft whines and moans spilled from your mouth, your spine arching to push your chest further into his face, he could feel the stiffness in his pants painfully begging to be freed. You sounded beautiful, he just wanted to throw you onto the couch and fuck you senseless while you cried out. Holding back from that was so hard, especially with all the cute noises you were making. He wanted to take you right here, but he knew he’d have to be patient if he didn’t want you to feel rushed or forced. He needed to be like a wolf stalking its deer. Slow, calculated, determined.

Pulling away from your mound, he looked at your swollen, spit-covered bud, smiling to himself with newfound confidence while moving to your other one. His possessive feelings were growing with each mark he left on you, every new blemish claiming another piece of your body for himself. Once he had all of you, god knows how he’d act.

He had one arm around you, pushing you closer to him to make it easier for him to swallow your chest while his hands groped your ass and felt up the wet spot between your legs, just barely tugging at the hem of your shorts when the opportunity arose. He was sucking hard, running his tongue diligently over the nipple and flicking it repeatedly to steal more moans from you. Every noise, every whimper, and every whine was just more motivation to him, fueling his excitement to keep touching you and eventually have you touch him. He almost couldn’t take it anymore, the bulge in his pants becoming increasingly painful the longer this went on.

It seemed he finally snapped after a few more minutes of vigorous sucking and quiet whimpers, grabbing your arms and forcing his face away from your chest after he heard you whisper out his name. As much as he wanted to continue the petting, he needed to have you now or he might just burst.

“Fuck whatever stupid idea I had for a game, I need you to touch me. I need you to touch me now, please.” Eren begged, sounding more desperate than you’d ever heard him before, almost growing teary-eyed at how pent-up he was becoming. His hips were roughly grinding into yours, praying for anything to rub against or release his tension. He was so frantic that you thought he might get on his knees and beg if you said no.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were curious. You wanted to know what he felt like and how he would react. You wanted to revel in the feeling of being desired so badly.

“You want me to touch you… that bad?” You asked, your voice quivering from the intense feeling rumbling through your body that you could only describe as heavy. Without Eren’s support, you would probably collapse into a hot mess on the couch.

Eren’s eyes grew wide as if you were spouting nonsense in a language he didn’t understand, “Of course I do! Why the hell do you think we’re here in the first place? I’ve never wanted anything so badly!”

His hands were shaking out of frustration, his grip strong enough to leave marks. Though, when the fear gleamed in your eyes and your muscles tensed up, he was quick to calm, loosening his hold and sliding his hands down to hold yours instead.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I’m just… so, so desperate. I want you so badly,” He apologized, looking down to avoid shameful eye contact with you, “I need you. Badly.”

You stared at him quietly for a moment, playing around with the ideas in your head before deciding through your lust-clouded judgment that you wanted him too. In the moment, you didn’t care if you would regret it later. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted to have control over him, if only for a little while.

For once, you were the one to make the first move, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on his forehead while you reached your hand to his groin. His entire body stiffened as you put your hand on the tent in his pants, his cheeks flushing when he peeked up at you with that desperate look in his eyes.

“Please—Please be gentle. Don’t squeeze it too much, I don’t—know how much I can take…” He stuttered out as if the fabric holding his cock back hurt any less than you squeezing him too tightly would.

Nodding, you caressed him again, watching carefully as his eyes squeezed shut and he leaned back, uttering a soft moan from your hand on the underside of his cock. He was still tense, but you could see that he was enjoying your touch, so you carried on. Beginning gently, you cupped him through the thin fabric of his pajama pants and massaged your hand up and down his pulsing shaft, eventually moving to tug at the band around his waist to silently ask permission to free him from his confines.

Although you wanted to take it slow, you were also desperate to see and touch him without the barrier separating you; and it seemed like he was too. That much was evident when he didn’t bother to let you pull his pants or boxers down, ripping them off himself and leading your hand back to his freed shaft by your wrist.

Catching on quickly, you tightened your hand around him and eyed up his length, examining it while he went back to gasping at every little movement you made. He was a lot bigger than you expected him to be up close, not to mention how heavy he felt in your palm. Seeing all of the little things you hadn’t noticed previously, it looked so different too.

Veins crawled up from the bottom of his girth, stopping a few inches before reaching his head, and he was swollen and red at the tip, already leaking precum. His bush was well-trimmed, a tiny freckle at the base of it, and it curved upwards while it twitched in your hand. You never thought you’d see a dick that looked so… perfect. Just holding his weight in your hands had you clenching around nothing, the thought of it filling you up passing through your mind more than once.

You slowly moved your hand up, stopping with your thumb on the underside of where his head and shaft met. You’d read online about men being sensitive in that spot, and it appeared to be true by the way his breath hitched when you ghosted your digit over it. Curious, you pressed lightly and caressed the spot up and down, causing his hips to jolt unexpectedly while a louder gasp left his throat.

“Ohh my god. Oh my god.” He breathed out, pushing his elbows into the cushions behind him to grip the couch beneath his thighs more efficiently. He’d never felt this good, even with his other, more experienced flings in the past. Even with less skill and precision, you were just so much better.

You were you. His dream. Everything he’d ever wanted in life. That’s what you were. His most prized possession, his most important person. That alone made everything feel superior. Because it was you doing it.

Enjoying the erotic look on his face, you kept up your motions and continued to stroke the spot below his head, sending him into a frenzy of squirms and whimpers as he grew overstimulated just by the pad of your thumb. His hips bucked up, desperate to get more friction to tip him over the edge of his already approaching orgasm.

“Fuck—Fuck, you have no idea how good this feels.” He uttered under his breath, voice shaking as you rubbed even faster. His whimpers were high-pitched, turning into something more akin to whines as he neared the end; but just as he was reaching the hilt of his pleasure, you pulled your hand away, leaving him to cry and plead for your touch again.

Seeing him so desperate for it was such a change from his usual self. It was like the roles swapped, and now you were the one that had him wrapped around your finger. You never wanted it to end. You longed to keep what little control over him you had for as long as you could. Plus, he looked cute when he was the one tomato-faced and begging.

Leaning close, you kissed his jaw while he audibly sniffled, reaching up to put your hand behind his head and push it forward to kiss his forming tears away. He whimpered again, one hand clawing the couch while the other flew to your hip. You pecked his face, slowly trailing to his lips so you could kiss, fully entrapping him in the scheme forming in your head.

Your fingers wrapped around his shaft for a second time, shocking him into pulling away before you pushed your lips against his again, assertive about keeping his mouth against yours. He was already moaning into you, grip growing tight as you began moving your hand up and down his length.

He was practically melting underneath you, arms trembling as your hand worked his hardness, pumping it rapidly. His cries for you were only growing louder, turning into muffled chants about how close he was to finishing. You loved to hear it, but you knew you didn’t want it to end so soon.

Once again, you let go of him, moving off of his lap and taking a seat next to him on your knees while he whined about your second absence. However, his complaints ceased when he realized what you were doing, your head already moving closer to his length and your hand taking its place at the base of it.

“Wait, wait,” He panicked, trying to stop you, reaching forward to grab some of your hair and pull your head away, “Are—Are you sure you want to do that? It doesn’t taste as good as you might think.”

Your mouth changed from its open “O” into a pout, a frown taking over your features as he stopped you from finishing him off, “I know what I want, Eren. Please let me.”

With your familiar longing gaze piercing his, he was quick to give in and remove his hand from your head, thanking the lord that he held the motivation to wash himself regularly and make sure he was clean every time he interacted with you. Right now you wanted him almost as much as he wanted you, and if you were so certain about it then he wasn’t about to stop that. He needed to take his chance to savor it because god knows how long he’d wanted this and when he'd get another chance. You finally wanted him too, so it would be foolish to stop now.

“Just… don’t push yourself.” He muttered, running his hand down your back while you resumed what you were doing before.

You nodded with a quiet hum, placing a gentle kiss on the head and taking an experimental lick just below. Tracing the pad of your finger up and down his veins, you took in all of the little shudders you managed to coax out of him and began a trail of kisses down the underside of his length. The way he was almost pouting with embarrassment while his cheeks were such a deep shade of red was adorable, it just made you want more. You wondered if this was how he felt about you most of the time, so enamored that he couldn't think about anything other than your face.

Reaching the base with your pecks, his cock twitching every time you made contact, you stuck out your tongue and pressed it against him. Slowly and tediously, you dragged it back up to the top, leaving a trail of saliva in your wake while Eren bit back a whine. A few more frivolous kisses to the tip and you finally took him into your mouth, pushing your tongue against him while you lowered your head as much as you could without gagging.

Lifting your head, you peered up at him, studying his face while you tried to force more into your mouth, unable to fit more than a few inches before tears emerged in the corners of your eyes. He was so big, you could barely get anything in, but that didn’t seem to affect the amount of pleasure it gave him when you finally began bobbing your head. Eren was already turning into a mess again, but the second you started moving the hand on his shaft in rhythm with your mouth, he nearly broke down crying from the feeling.

Tracing shaky hearts on your back, he stared down at you, trying to burn the image he saw into his memory and lock it away for safekeeping. It was exhilarating to see you like this, so much so that he had to cover his mouth to prevent the moans that slipped out from growing too loud. He couldn’t handle it, especially after being edged twice, he was going to go crazy if you didn’t let him finish this time.

Holding himself still was the most difficult thing, especially when all he wanted to do was hammer into your throat like there was no tomorrow—but he didn’t want to make you choke on him. Not yet, at least. It felt too early to be that rough with you.

Being built up and denied satisfaction the last two times meant it wasn't long before the band was stretched again, dangerously close to breaking. The way your tongue pressed against the sensitive spot below his head, the way your fingers curled around him and stroked everything that didn’t fit in your mouth had him gasping for air. It was driving him up the wall, pushing him so close that he could feel himself at the very edge, nearly tumbling over it even if you weren’t the best at what you were doing.

When your eyes flicked up to meet his, watching his ruby-red and sweat-slicked face twisted with pleasure, he finally snapped. You watched his eyes squeeze shut as he threw his head back, crying out in whimpers as he lost control of his hips through his orgasm, repeatedly chanting “I love you” between swears.

You couldn’t help but gag as more than you could handle was shoved down your throat, eyes going wide as your mouth was coated with a bitter taste that made you wince. You had to pull away while he was still coming, coughing and gagging more at the feeling of his release in your throat while the rest spilled over your hand.

Eren was apologizing under his breath, still struggling through the pleasure of his climax—but you decided to push him the slightest bit further as revenge for making you choke, massaging your finger over the same spot you had earlier and sending a shock through his entire body again. You continued to touch him as you sat up, leaning into him with your head on his shoulder so you could feel the way he shook from the overstimulation.

“Please—Please, oh my god I can’t take it.” He cried, tears bordering his eyes as you teased him. Seeing that you didn’t want to go too overboard, you decided to give him mercy and let go, watching him go limp as his body finally relaxed. He was panting, covered in sweat like he’d just finished one of the intense basketball scrimmages you used to watch him do, even though he’d only gotten sucked off and pleasured. It was almost cute to you, mostly because it made it much more obvious how much of a hold you had on him, and you enjoyed it. You enjoyed being desired.

Following a few minutes of quiet, filled only with sounds of his panting and shuffling of you snuggling against his arm, he spoke up again through pants, slowly coming back into his normal headspace that was dedicated to caring for you, “Was… Was that okay? Are you doing okay?”

Your eyes half-lidded while you stared at him from his shoulder, you nodded with a smile spreading across your lips. The bliss of everything was still holding onto you, the giddy feeling that bubbled in your chest stemming from the moments prior. You just wanted to stay like this, cuddled up against him while you relaxed together in sweet silence, only broken occasionally by your back-and-forth comments about aftercare and gentle kisses to his collarbone.

When Eren finally decided to get up, still so delirious from the pleasure that he hadn’t even thought about how you were out of sight, it was only to grab a rag and some water from the kitchen. Then was back on the couch as quickly as he’d left, tidying you up and pulling you into his lap to cradle you. While you clung to him, burying your face into his neck, he leaned forward to grab your shirt from the floor, quickly pulling it over your head so you could get back to cuddling.

You were feeling oddly clingy, more so than before. You just wanted to stay in his arms, snuggled up to his warm body. It was the most at peace you’d felt since you’d been taken. It felt nice.

Suddenly pulling you out from your comfort, Eren pushed your face away from his neck, eliciting a whine from you as he grabbed the glass of ice water and brought it up to your lips, “Come on, you should drink. I know that I probably didn’t taste very good…”

Pouty about being pulled away, you snapped back playfully with a raised brow while pushing the glass away, “How would you know what you taste like?”

His face twisted in embarrassment, his brows furrowing as he stammered trying to explain himself, “Well, I don’t, but I’ve just—I’ve been told it doesn’t taste very good.”

You giggled at his response, “That doesn’t mean you don’t taste good to me,” even though it was true that he tasted rather foul.

Slightly flustered, Eren quickly tried to regain control of the conversation, feigning confidence while placing his hand on your nape to push your face close to his, “Well why don’t you let me have a taste for myself so I can see?”

“Mm, how am I supposed to do that?” You asked.

“Like this.” He replied, pushing his lips against yours and dipping his tongue into your mouth before pulling away just as quickly, leaving you stunned at his sudden shamelessness.

While you were still staring at him with your mouth slightly agape, he pushed the glass cup into your hands, forcing you to hold it as he guided it up to your mouth. Finally pulled out of your trance, you let out a small sigh and took a sip, the cool water finally washing away the bitter taste his release had left in your mouth.

“I guess I don’t taste that bad,” He started, which on its own almost caused you to spit out the water, only to be shocked again when he continued the statement, “Or maybe I was just tasting you.”

You nearly choked while trying to swallow, yelling out afterward and slapping his shoulder, “Eren!”

“Shh, shh, just come here so I can hold you again.” He cooed, taking the glass from you and pulling you against him, “My angel.”

Pressing kisses to your head, he smiled as you snuggled into him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck while he pet your hair. With both of you relaxed, it was quiet once more, the two of you cuddled into each other as the silence surrounded you, leaving you both to your thoughts.

Eren was thinking about what you’d said, about what you wanted if you won his “game.” Even if you didn’t remember it in the moment, he would feel bad if he didn’t give it to you eventually. Not to mention, you were smart. You’d end up asking about it again at some point. He knew you would, and the thought of it made him anxious.

It’s not that he didn’t want you to go into his room, it was just that the things he had out would be deathly embarrassing for you to see. Once he got the chance to clean everything up, it would be fine for you to come in. If anything, he wanted you to stay in his room. He wanted to be able to trust you enough to sleep in his bed with him, to experience that kind of deep intimacy with you; but with everything you’d done recently, he still wasn’t sure about it. However, he did have a somewhat peculiar idea about what you could do to gain his trust—one that would get the authorities off of his back too if he played the cards right. Your reaction to the idea would tell him all he needed to know about how much he could trust you too. It was brilliant—at least to him, it was.

As if your minds were parallel to one another, you decided to speak up and ask about what’d been promised to you, “Hey… am I still gonna get my reward since I technically won that game you mentioned?”

“Funny you say that actually, I was just thinking about it,” he began his reply, tightening his arms around you so that you would be as flush against him, no space separating you, “And I thought about something else we could do that you might like a little more.”

Jumping to the conclusion that he was trying to back out of his past agreement, a frown formed on your face and you opened your mouth to scold him, only to be stopped with a finger pushed to your lips followed by his loud shushing.

“Shh! Just let me finish before you chew me out!” He hushed you, pressing kisses between your wrinkled brows until they relaxed, then continuing, “My idea wasn’t that different from yours. It’s pretty much the same. I’ll let you come into my room tomorrow, except I’ll also let you stay the night with me there.”

Again not allowing him to finish, you interrupted excitedly with a smile already taking over your face, “Really? In your bed? With you?”

Eren already spent many of his nights downstairs with you, but that wasn’t the same as sleeping with him in his bed. Sleeping in his room not only meant you were free from the unfriendly aura of the basement, but that you would have light when you woke up. You could wake up to the warm morning sun for the first time in a month. You’d missed it so much.

“Yes. With me.” He began again, clearing his throat and frowning at your repetitive habit of interrupting him, “But only under one condition.”

Taking note of his annoyance, you stayed quiet this time, eyeing him as a way of silently asking him to continue.

“You need to call the police department tomorrow morning and tell them you don't want to go home.”

taglist; @kpostedsum @missyasma @localdepressedvampire @chateks @erenyeagerdrip00 @beclover @tiffanyy-21 @momoewn @alienvarmint @berriesandcrem @erenjagerwifee @Sashaisahoeee @jkeluv @bobateasilverpearl (ask to join, and since it's been a while let me know if you changed your username and want to be back on the taglist or leave it! <;3)

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shunin-gumis · 3 months

Text

Nagi Birthday(2024) SSR Story

Best Wishes Snap

Happy Happy Day! (1st part)

The Yellow and white marker is Toi, Red is Ryui, Beige over black is Yodaka, Neon Pink is Netaro, and the All-black is (probably?) oshisha-sama (iykyk)

Messages Toi: Happy Birthday Nagi-kun! We love you 💖 Ryui: Happy B Day, show some energy. 🐙 Netaro: Birthday Boy 🌟🌟🌟 Yodaka: All happiness on your birthday ✨ Oshisha: My pet ➡️ Fun fact the rat ears doodled on Nagi is in reference to his radio persona named 'Nure Nezumi' meaning Drowned Rat!

Nagi: Haa.....

Boy: Mama, that man on the swing set has been staring at the ground for so long now.

Mother of the boy: It's not good to stare, we should leave him alone.

Nagi: I couldn't tell anyone it was my birthday today in the end.

Nagi: The "Random Present System"... I wonder if I was counted in it too.

Nagi: I'm sure the person who was selected to gift me a present has been decided, but no one actually knows it's my birthday today.... Besides, it must have been a hassle to get me something when the system was only just implemented....

Nagi: ...... Well, I guess it's fine even if my birthday isn't celebrated.

Nagi: Sonia sent me off with a smile and told me to enjoy the party, so I can't just go back to the shop now. I'll just return to Hama House, take a nice hot bath and sleep.

Nagi: I'm ba...ck?

Ryui: Finally! Where the hell were you off to all this time? You're late!

Nagi: Huh? Um, I'm... sorry?

Momiji: Welcome back, Nagi-kun.

Yodaka: We were just about to set off to find you.

Yodaka: It wouldn't do for the birthday boy to be absent for his own party, now would it?

Nagi: But I thought no one knew my birthday...

Netaro: What a silly goose you are Gii~ Surely you must remember the fact that you had to note down your birthday on your profile.

Momiji: It was in the company's documents too.

Nagi: Ah... you're right.

Toi: Ushio-kun prepared the cake -"Blooming Happiness ⭐ Full Bloom Flower Cake"! The flowers on top of the icing are all edible, isn't that amazing?

Nagi: Not just that, the entire table is packed with all kinds of food...

Nagi: You prepared all this... for me...?

Momiji: Nagi-kun, I've prepared a ton of vases so I can receive as many flowers as you want to give me later, so enjoy tonight as much as you want!

Nagi: ....!!

Everyone at Hama Tours: Happy Birthday!!

Renga: As fellow team leaders... let's do our best to get along and hype up HAMA.

Renga: This pink rose is my birthday gift for you.

Renga: It's thanks to your advice that my roses grew so beautifully, so you can have this one.

Nagi: ....hic.....

Renga: ...Wait, huh!? Are you crying!?

Ten: Ah... look at those tears. Renga-san, how could you do that to him....

Renga: Is this my fault!?

Renga: It's not like it's something specia- I mean, I did put a lot of thought into it, but!

Renga: O-Oi, stop crying already...!

Nagi: ....hic, I've never seen such a beautiful rose before. It's the most beautiful one in the world, no, in this entire galaxy!

Renga: I-Is that so...!

Muneuji: Hachinoya-san, please accept this watering can from me. I hope you can make use of it at your store. I wish for 'Flower Laundry' to continue to flourish and prosper.

Nagi: I-I promise to make my store one that everyone loves for the next 1000 years.

Liguang: ... He keeps crying every time someone greets him.

Ryui: He's a pain...

Nagi: Liguang-san, and Ryui... Even the two of you prepared a present for me?

Liguang: That's right. Grease and cloth included, I've prepared a maintenance tool set that you can use on your beloved bike.

Nagi: Thank you very much....

Ryui: This is a little something to ward of bad luck.

Nagi: Band-aids? It's even got a nice design...

Ryui: It's because you keep getting hurt all the time and getting Toi all worried. And stop bawling so much it's gross.

Nagi: ... Thank you for getting someone like me a gift. It's the first time my birthday's been celebrated like this...

Chihiro: Oh em gee, isn't Nagipeko crying a lil too much tho? You'll shrivel up at this rate!

Nagi: It'll be ok if I drink water right after letting it out.

Raito: Haha, guess I should prepare a pitcher for you in that case.

Nagi: I would really appreciate that.

Nagi: I want to give back all this gratitude I'm feeling. So that all of you can smile just like I am-

Nagi: I'll do a stand-up comedy right now.

Momiji: Eh, all of a sudden?

Tao: That's not what I was expecting from that speech!

Nagi: Even if you feel like cringing, please don't look away. I'd like you to accept my honest feelings of gratitude.

Momiji: Huh, wait, Nagi-kun...!

Nagi: Presenting my short skit, "How I surprised myself on my own Birthday."

Part 2

#18tlip #18trip #18trip translation #hachinoya nagi #nagi bday #sweetest boy alive #he's so silly #shunin #ryui shiramitsu #toi shiramitsu #natsume yodaka #yowa netaro #hamasaki momiji #momiji #muneuji kaguya #raito kitakata #lu liguang #just the smallest hint of #nagishuu

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masarrysversion · 1 year

Text

daylight

summary: love story of sir lewis hamilton x singer-songwriter!reader

inspiration: madame taylor swift’s discography. her new songs “you’re losing me” // her old songs

author’s note: this is my very first social media au ♡ must admit that I’m not satisfied with it and the end was rushed :/ taylor swift released a new song “you’re losing me” and I’ve seen many parallels with her old songs so I wanted to make an AU but with a different timeline than TS’s real timeline

face claim: chloe bailey

SEPTEMBER

yourusername

Liked by zendaya and 5 345 851 others

yourusername Surprise!!

Out NOW the new version of my album called Midnights (The Til Dawn Edition) 💙

This edition has a never before heard track called “You’re Losing Me” and it is the official third single from Midnights!!! (Link in bio)

View all 32 377 comments

ynfan IM BAWLING THE SONG IS HEARTBREAKING

loveyn if you have ever been in a relationship that slowly died in front of you while you tried everything to save it but they acted like nothing was wrong, don’t listen to “you’re losing me” you’ll be agonising

midnightslover “I wouldn’t marry me either” anyone would be lucky to marry you, Y/N 😢

user1 you deserve someone who considers you and praises you for existing

yourusername

Liked by elliegoulding, lewishamilton and 3 465 834 others

yourusername THANK YOU SO MUCH, @brits 💖 I can’t believe ‘You’re Losing Me’ won International Song. This song means SO much to me!! The brit is already safe and warm on a shelf at home. What a magical night and what an honour to have been presented this award by two people I highly respect and admire, @elliegoulding & @lewishamilton 🙏

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lewishamilton 💜😍

Liked by yourusername

lewis44ham well... it sure is a normal way to answer an artist you’ve just met... 👀

LHmercfan @lewis44ham Lewis has always been nice like that with everyone lol. It doesn’t mean anything!

ynlover u deserve it so much!!

user47 you transforming your heartbreak into art and getting recognition for it just makes me happy

NOVEMBER

enews

45 295 likes

enews DATING RUMORS ALERT 🚨 Sir Lewis Hamilton and Y/N were spotted entering a building in Manhattan's Greenwich Village.

It seems like Y/N has made Cornelia Street her temporary abode for a few weeks now as her Tribeca property is undergoing a renovation.

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lavendrshaze NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY

lewissnation They’re not just rumors imo. They have been interacting so much on social media lately!

formulamilton true lmao. and no wonder lewis has posted so many thrist traps since september 🤔

MARCH

JULY

yourusername

Liked by lewishamilton and 8 416 478 others

yourusername Hi loves, my brand new album ‘wholeheartedly’ will be out this friday. Hope you’ll like it as much as I loved creating it ♡

Comments on this post have been limited.

1 YEAR LATER

lewishamilton

Liked by yourusername and 23 456 120 others

lewishamilton Y/N Hamilton, I would marry you endlessly.

You’re way better than a dream. 🤤

I always knew I was a lucky man but when I met you, I understood that I was the luckiest man ever. Fighting and hardwork have always be in my DNA and yet, fighting for your love and happiness everyday is like no other fights I experienced. It still is my best fight to this day. I will never stop working hard to be worthy of your love and consideration. I thought I had everything until you swept me off my feet at the Brits and finally made me complete that night.

I love you. Thank you for making me and Roscoe your family, @username 😍❤️

Ps: I never thought I would have love songs written about me. In complete awe of your talent 😳

View all 364 924 comments

yourusername You and Roscoe are the loves of my life. I’m the one who is thankful for you, for having found the perfect human being. I have so much love, respect and admiration for you that it is unimaginable. I love you with all of my heart 💜

189 989 likes

#lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #social media au #i apologise for any grammar mistakes i'm french :)#so nerve wrecking to post your writing omg #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #f1 fanfic #mw

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chocourse · 28 days

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 (𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓈𝓃𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈 𝒹𝑜)

➶ poly! ineffable husbands x angel! fem!reader ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ The Egyptians built one of the seven wonders of the world, the Greeks discovered philosophy, but make-up was invented by a desperate angel during the construction of the Tower of Babel, when people spoke the same language and wanted to settle in a city after the great flood. That angel was you. And you really needed the make-up when the first bite happened.

➴ genre: fluff, polyamory, falling in love

: ̗̀➛ warnings: references to christian religion & lore, fashion and make-up lore, love bites/hickeys, mentions of snake poison, corruption i think

⌨ :: 2.2K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ special thanks to @honeytwo for helping me translate this into english, correcting my grammar and other mistakes. thank you for everything! °♡̷•.

⁀➷ a/n: Hi, dears! I am happy that I took the time to publish this story here after Ao3. I wrote it in January when I watched Good Omens and was looking for comfort after bawling my eyes out. Alright, that's all I wanted to say. Go and enjoy your unique history with the ineffable husbands! <3

➳ good omens masterlist

A FAIRLY LONG TIME AGO

As much as possible, you wanted to blend in with the people. You were too attracted by their nature to spend the rest of your time until Armageddon up there, among snow-white washed columns, in empty halls where nothing really interesting happens. You can deliver the reports even if you’re living on Earth and watching the humans work, you reassured yourself.

You've enjoyed watching the mortals ant-like, feverishly at work, creating wonders like the Tower of Babel.

“Upon my word, what a masterly job,” said Aziraphale, when the tower was already very high.

Aziraphale agreed with you about your intentions on earth, and you used to talk about the exciting things people can do and how exciting it will be to learn about their work and future generations.

When you were particularly engrossed in reciting your predictions, and explaining them to each other with sparkling eyes, Crowley would just roll his eyes and do it with relish, as if it was his natural reaction to your enthusiasm. He decided he'd rather be with the two of you instead of in the company of damned souls and stake-ridden demons when there was no one to tempt and lead into sin. It wasn't boring at all, especially with the fairs they held back then, the intoxicating people, the musical instruments, the delicious food.

His favorite events were the celebrations. When the men working on the tower would take a break from work and gather in town to drink and sing. They fanned his fire, his desire to do something underhanded. Not evil, just something genuinely bad. Like what he did to the apples and Eve at the tree.

He thought deeply about the ways in which he could make others sin. That's when he heard you laugh. You were amazed at what Aziraphale had said. You sipped flushedly into your alcohol jar. You weren't wearing your halo or spreading your wings, but you looked just like an angel. Beautiful, ethereal, uncorrupted, even when you were indulging in human pleasures and getting drunk at an easy pace.

Bingo.

Crowley smiled, his eyes gleaming under his black sunglasses. He headed towards you.

“Did you try everything?” he asked.

“The dates are heavenly ,” Aziraphale agreed, putting another piece in his mouth. “You must try one, Crowley.”

“I will,” the demon promised. “Later. But first, I'm going to taste something that's inviting to my imagination…”

His fingers brushed over your shoulder. His fingertips touched your sensitive skin, then...

“Ow !" you squeaked in surprise as he sank his canines into the exposed skin of your neck.

When an angel wants to fit in with humans, she can't walk around with a snake-bitten neck like she's fine. So you tried to use a miracle to make it disappear, but as it turns out, miracles don't work on demonic bites, which is kind of unfair, but part of the Incomprehensible Plan, so you had to resort to some other method, without blaming the Almighty for creating the demon bite the way it is.

You used paint to cover it up. It was the first make-up experiment in history. Cleopatra will use your method in dark red, but it will be a long time before then, your injury will heal and heal many times over.

In any case, Crowley grinned as he watched you walk around for weeks, neck covered in paint. He was very pleased with himself, and you often caught him looking at you with his yellow snake eyes, grinning like he was planning to do it again.

When God confused the tongues of men, you were grateful to Him.

Now, you could send the demon to Hell in countless languages.

IN THE 16TH CENTURY

Garbo.

Garbos everywhere.

Lace, frills, colours, fancy fabrics. You were very fond of the English Renaissance under Queen Elizabeth I. Mainly because of the full turtlenecks, which usually covered your neck magnificently. You could even forgive the low-cut dresses and corsets - although when silk scarves came along, looking back, the wide turtlenecks you once wore would have looked like clown costumes.

It was further satisfying to know that Crowley hated rules by default, let alone about fashion. He really despised the Sumptuary Laws, and cursed that he hadn't invented them, because they were truly demonic. In contrast, Aziraphale, who always put a lot of effort into his appearance, was fine with the expected attire, and always looked elegant with a pleasant smile.

Sometimes, though, his smile faltered when his turtleneck grazed the bite marks on his neck. You stroked his upper arm sympathetically at such times, and yet: neither of you told Crowley to stop what he was doing on your necks.

You had no problem with early medieval times. The tight, plain dresses were simple and, importantly, the neck was not visible, only the back of the hands and the face, and after marriage, the hair - not that you married, it was just the fashion among married women. On the other hand, the pale ideal of the early Middle Ages, when women had blood drained to make them white as doves, was disappointing. Then came arsenical powders, the cause of many women's deaths. At the time, you were ashamed of inventing make-up, and so women wanted to tamper with their natural beauty with all sorts of talc fads. You have to suffer to be beautiful, they said, and they didn't realize that there was no need for any suffering because they were beautiful from creation.

Your determination was only further strengthened when it was discovered that Elizabeth I died of blood poisoning from using white lead on her face. And you thought the sixteenth century would bring radical changes…

Actually, there has been a radical change, but not in make-up.

Crowley invented the suction mark, which didn't swell up like a snake venom-infused wound and came in a variety of colours depending on how much time Crowley put into creating them. They made him feel like an artist, so he liked to tinker with them. He'd been paying devoted attention to your necks for a very long time, so you're actually used to it, it's become a tradition.

In fact, you both kind of loved it.

IN THE 19TH CENTURY

The rice powder is made from natural ingredients. We're finally back here, you peacefully acknowledged at every social gathering. Usually you only powdered the back of your neck, but richly. The fashions of the 1800s called for ruffles, corsets, a relatively modest neckline, no turtlenecks or neck-covering. But a thorough, ornate make-up look was something every self-respecting woman had to create, and because you only covered your neck, you were often the victim of gossip.

When Aziraphale opened his bookshop and held a small gathering to celebrate with champagne, snacks and a ball, the ladies whispered a great deal about you, hiding behind their fans. They sized up your clothes, your make-up, yourself. They guessed how much of a goer you must be. It made them angry that even though you don't wear normal makeup, men still seek your company because you're witty and good, not jealous like them.

Crowley was annoyed by the women who belittled you, the men who complimented you, the fact that you had been hiding the fact that you were his for centuries. Just like Aziraphale, only he didn't seem as desperate as you to cover his marks. Although his top hat usually shaded them well, where it was appropriate to remove the headgear, nothing covered them.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley more and more often as if he knew perfectly well what the marks meant, just as he knew that Crowley was a cruel, unrelenting demon and would not say it.

When Crowley asked you to stop covering your neck, he was actually saying it. With his eyes shining mysteriously in the moonlight through the window, when Crowley took off his glasses and all the guests had gone, leaving only the three of you and the empty glasses and the crumbs.

Tenderness and love. This is what his words would have tasted like if you had eaten them.

It was the same way Aziraphale looked at you when you caught him gazing at you, silent and dreamy, or when you simply spoke to him enthusiastically about something that interested and excited you as people once did when the Tower of Babel was raised, and he listened patiently, as if he had nothing better to do.

When you said all right to Crowley with a smile, that meant you loved him, too.

Them, too.

NOWADAYS

“Um, are you–” Gabriel furrows his eyebrows and tries to decipher you with a polite smile. “What is this?”

You're wearing the purest white, as befits a visit to Heaven. Obviously Gabriel would not object to that. He wears mostly white, with a faint hint of blue. What he can't make out is the fluffy white scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, right up to your nose. You stand before him like a polar bear with a neck brace. Or an almost completely covered, ethereal mummy.

Or maybe a spool of toilet paper.

You pull the material slightly in front of your mouth to answer.

“I'm cold,” you report with a blush.

“It must be exciting.” Gabriel admits that you've probably spent too much time on Earth, among humans, and its somewhat dulled your angelic senses. He clears his throat. “Well, we can get down to business then, let's not waste each other's precious time.”

You nod. He is absolutely right.

In the empty, snow-white-plastered heavenly hall, a table, a folder and a pen with wings - not a bijou, strictly used for official signatures - appear. Sighing, you take a comfortable seat, and as you take the pen, you give thanks that now women can wear comfortable and practical pants too.

And, you add with even deeper satisfaction, great scarves.

...

Ignoring the closed sign, you rip open the door and burst into the bookshop.

“Sorry, but we’re closed– Oh, it's you.” Aziraphale smiles a greeting, then notices the upset on your face. “What happened, darling?”

“It was embarrassing to show myself like this in front of Gabriel,” you reply as you begin to unravel the fuzzy covering around your neck.

Aziraphale pats your upper arm piteously, presses a kiss to your temple and promises to bring you a mug of hot chocolate to help you relax.

Long time ago you promised Crowley you wouldn't cover his marks, but when you meet your angelic bosses, it's a different story. If they find out what's between you and him, they'll make hell in heaven. That doesn't impress Crowley, especially not today. Before you left, he had so covered your neck with his special love marks that a simple scarf wouldn't have been enough to cover it. Especially since he's recently returned to biting.

You'll find him on the sofa at the back of the shop. He's got a real proud smile that makes you want to throw a scarf at him. You throw the scarf at him. He catches it easily.

"You little..." you grit your teeth.

“Idiot? Shit? Asshole? The lowest of demons? Bitter of your eternal life?” He's playing with the scarf. He doesn't look up, doesn't admire the colorful patchwork he's created on your neck. Even better. If he would do it, throwing a scarf at him would not be enough.

"Lovely sweet creature," you say in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Bleh.” Crowley scowls. “That's a thousand times worse than you swearing.”

“I know. That's why I do it.” You sit down in the armchair furthest away from him and continue to stare at him harshly.

He sighs.

“My love, you're too beautiful with my marks on your neck. I cannot help it. And every man should know those are mine. Even the angels up there.”

Except Aziraphale. He already knows full well that if the blobs on your skin were to be exhibited as paintings, the artist's name would clearly be Crowley.

And you know what these marks are called these days, and that makes you happy. You ask, a little more lightly, if he knows. Crowley shakes his head.

“Love bites,” you tell him.

“It's only natural that they call it that. I invented it, and for thousands of years you and Aziraphale have been the only ones to get it. What else could it be?” Crowley gets up, comes over to you and squats down in front of you, taking your hand in his. He’s not wearing his sunglasses. His eyes are vivid, the sky glowing yellow behind the black sliver of the moon. "It's not something I give as punishment or temptation. It is exactly what it is called. Humans are smart enough to give it such a good name.”

“Well, well, you're praising the humans.” Aziraphale arrives balancing a tray on the low coffee table next to his open book and a stack of newspapers.

“Have you heard what my creations are called?”

“I don’t think so.”

The demon tells him. The angel blushes and starts passing out mugs. Crowley admires him, then turns to you.

“Will you sit with me?”

Luckily for him, you're not overly resentful. You nod, and you’d be lying if you said you weren't warmed by the sight of his smile and his hand reaching out for yours. You end up on the soft couch, his arm around your shoulders, your hot chocolate in your hand.

And love bites on your neck.

#good omens x reader #ineffable husbands x reader #poly ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley x reader #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #good omens fanfiction #good omens #good omens fluff #ineffable husbands #cross posted on ao3 #polyamory #x female reader #x fem!reader #x female y/n

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evanpeterspeter · 2 months

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Tate’s Mommy

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A/n: based off the votes, Tate with a mommy kink won! If anyone wants any specific requests, feel free to drop an ask or dm me.

Disclaimer: In no way this story promotes any act of pedophilia or any interactions with a minors. They are both over 18. Thank you! Enjoy.

Tw: Nsfw acts. M receiving, non protected p in v, mommy kink, (potential äge play? Idk) and so on :3

Wc: 1.5k

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After a long exhausting 10 hour shift at the library, tutoring other students in your university, you head into your doom and gloom home, kicking off your beat up Vans against the scuffed walls.

Upstairs is where you headed, to your comfortable bedroom. Your room was full of books, beautiful well fed plants, dim yellow lights and rustic vintage furniture. You still kept some of Tates 'taste' like his Nirvana albums, his radio player, his dirty, well loved Converse and small knickknacks. Looking forward you see a soft bodied boy, in a fetal position, fidgeting with his sock covered toes together, wearing a green striped long sleeve shirt, with a dusty colored blue of his jeans and is facing the other side. "My love?" You spoke softly as you plopped your bag by the door. Walking to him, you gently sat on the bed, caressing his waist and hip. "Baby boy...are you okay?"

No response. "Baaaabbyyyyyy..." you hummed to him, while still continuously rubbing him. You got a sniffle out of him and a soft whimper. "My love? What's wrong?" You sat by the head of the frame, pulling all of him up to your chest. He looked up at you with red watery eyes, his face very flushed and salty, he let out a wail of distress, clinging onto your v neck shirt. "My beautiful, baby boy what's wrong?" He lifted his heavy head to look up at you, with those big beautiful Astrid eyes. "I-I had a nightmare, w-where you left me and when I woke up..you-you weren't here!" He bawled, hiccuping in every other word. "I'm here now, my love. Mommy isn't going anywhere, okay?" "You were gone all day, I thought you left me f-forever!" He puled to you. You pushed his hair out of his flustered, damp face. "And why would I ever do that?" "I-I don't know...cause you don't like me?" You playfully gasp putting your palm to your chest. You earn a small chuckle from the blonde boy. "Why you little-.." you peppered his face is kisses while tickling his sides. He squirms and starts laughing. "Ahh, okay! You win!" He said between his pleas of laughter. You kiss the top of his head and caress his cheeks. "I love you, you are my world. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if you were gone. Mommy would never leave you okay?" You glid your thumb over his bottom lip. He gently nodded. "Good boy.." you said in a seductive manner. His eyes shot open and his cheeks became flushed. "Mommy is gonna shower okay? Did you shower?" The blonde nodded and held onto you.

Stepping out the shower, you felt so relaxed and refreshed, washing the day away from your body. You wrapped a towel around yourself, heading to your sometimes shared bedroom and then closing the heavy old door. There sits Tate with a big smile on his face, sitting criss crossed on the bed just waiting for you. "Hey, handsome. What are you up to?" You spoke smoothly, drying yourself off. "Watchin ya.." he looked you up and down, biting his lip. "Oh yeah?" You smirked, unraveling the towel around your soft body, you open it up showing off your beautiful frame. His eyes widened and his heart fluttered. Tate instantly put his hand over his crotch to try to hide his growing member. "What's wrong my handsome boy?" You dropped the towel and got on the bed, pushing him flat against the plump mattress. You hovered over his body, straddling his hips, one arm holding you up and the other pinching the bottom of his chin. "You wanna tell mommy what's wrong?" You leaned closer to his face, your lips grazing against his. His breath hitches as you feel his cock twitch against your sopping cunt. "I-I..you make me h-horny y-y/n.." he choked out. You let out a small huff of a chuckle and gently shook your head 'no'. "That's not my name, Love.." you press a soft kiss against his warm lips. He gasped gently and gripped the sheets with his fists. "M-mommy.." he said while fluttering his lids shut. "Good boy.." you deepened the kiss, feeling his tongue dance with yours.

You pulled away from his raw lips and looked into his eyes. He half liddedly smiled at you with his dimples peeking out. "Come here my baby boy." You laid on the bed and pulled him to your chest, he put his gentle lips on your nipple and suckled on it while he palmed himself. You arched your head back in pleasure, feeling your bunch soaking the bed sheets.

Looking back down at the beautiful dirty blonde boy, suckling on your nipple. You pull him off your tit by cupping his face. "You've been such a good boy, Tate..mommy's going to reward you now." You moved him to the side, crawling to in between his legs, palming his cock through his pants. He lets off a small sigh of relief. You unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pulling them down to his thighs, then soon after his boxers. When pulling his boxers down his cock sprung up, smacking against his happy trail. "So hard for me..good boy.." you stroked his cock and kissed his hot pink tip. His precum seeped onto your lips like a gloss, you licked your lips, licking his salty juices off. He let off a breathy moan and tries thrusting his hips. You shook your head 'no' while still stroking him. "No no my love. Have patience." You wrapped your lips around his head and sucked on it. He grabbed the back of your head and squeezed a fist with your hair in his hand. You let off a small moan, pulling off with a sucking sound. He let out a whimper and bucked his hips, waiting for some more friction. You giggled and wrapped your lips around his impressive length and went down to the base of his member, your nose muzzling in his patch of blonde hair. You bob your head up and down while looking up at him. His head and eyes were rolled back as he enjoyed every moment. You pulled off with a pop and started kissing the sides of his cock, then stroking it at a fast pace. "Such a good boy." You kissed his inner thigh, leaving lovebites on him. "Mmmm...I'm gonna c-cum.." you instantly stopped and pulled away. He raised his eyebrows and pouted. "Noooo...please mommy?" You shook your head with a big grin plastered on your face. "I need you, please mama?" He whined softly. He grabbed his member but you promptly smacked his hand away. "No touchy.." his eyes water as he bucks his hips in frustration. "P-please.." he said as his voice cracked. "Okay okay..since you said please..I will reward you." You kissed his tip and crawled up on him.

You had your cunt against his throbbing member, rubbing it from your soft wet entrance to your tender bundle of nerves, up and down stimulating yourself.

Slowly lowering yourself onto his shaft you softly wince at his thickness and length, stretching out your core. "Mm fuck, baby.." you moaned. Finally lowering yourself onto the base, then you gently bounced on his cock. Tate let out some mouthy moans and held onto your hips to help keep pace. You tossed your head back, in bliss and pain, feeling how deep he hits in you. You fall forward and crashed lips as you rode him fast and hard. You felt your clit rub friction against his base, causing you to start feeling your core tighten. "I-I think I'm gonna cum.." whimpered Tate. "G-go ahead baby.." not long after saying that, your climax hit a high and you finished, tightening around his cock. You felt his thick white ropes fill you up, so much that it leaks down his shaft, while still pumping in you. He lets his small rabbit humps come to an end and then he turns limp on the bed.

You look up at his soft flushed face and pulled him into a bonded kiss. Once pulled away, he looked at you with his eyes heavy. You couldn't help but smile at his exhaustion. "I love you.." you whispered.

"I-I love you too.." he uttered back.

You pull off of his now relaxed member and he lets out a soft groan. You giggle and went to the restroom to freshen up and brush your teeth.

Once you came back, you wiggled his boxers back on and took the jeans completely off of him. Laying in bed you put the sheets over yourselves and he curled up on your chest, peacefully resting against you.

"Good night my love.."

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Tag list: @evansonlylove @xrag-dollx @warrenlipkaswife @jazz-berry

#evan peters #ahs fandom #evan peters imagine #american horror story #evan peters fanfic #evan peters x female reader #tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x reader smut #mommy k!nk #domme mommy #dom mommy #sub bottom

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twst-kumi · 3 months

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Weeping Maiden [ACT I] CHAPTER 11

[Act I] CHAPTER 11

[Name] woke up in her room in Royal Dawn Dormitory. Flora was dozing off on the armchair by her bed. The fairy’s eyes looked puffy from crying. Flora woke up startled by the young girl snorting. The old woman looked at her for a minute before bawling. She was so loud that she could hear running in the mini castle.

Ambrose barged in the room holding his robe up. He looked disheveled while panting. His eyes darted everywhere before he saw [Name] smiling awkwardly. It was his turn to cry.

“_Oh my sweet child! I was so worried.”

Alerted by the commotion, the other came to see what was happening. Aurelius also teared up as he saw the young girl. She was alive and well.

“_ Don't scare us like that ever again.

_ Yes, I'm sorry. I swear I didn't mean to worry.

_ It's not about you worrying us, my dear child. It was dangerous. You could have died.”

The director said glaring at her worriedly. He wanted to protect her. Not only was she his most delicate student, but she was first and foremost his daughter blood related or not. [Name]’s heart fluttered in front of his sincere eyes.

“_ It's a parent's job to take care and worry about their child. And a father's job to protect their daughter.”

The young girl couldn't say anything. Her heart felt heavy with unknown emotions. She didn't know how to react to it, but it felt good somehow. Like she was waiting for such words, she couldn't stop her tears trailing down her cheek. The old man held her in her arms and [Name] broke down wailing like a little kid. She couldn't help but cry as he hugged her tightly. It was warm. Ambrose’s embrace felt so warm around her.

A few minutes after, her eyes were puffy and red gaining her some teasing laugh from Vil and the rest.

“_You look like a baby chick who hatched with your eyes like that.

_Nooo, baby chick are ugly when they hatch.”

[Name] whined still sniffing here and there. The group laughed relieved everyone was alright. They got out with only a few scratch and bruise nothing to heavy. The most worrying peoples were Neige and her who were unconscious for two days. Neige woke up yesterday.

“_About Neige…”

[Name] started to explain what she saw in his memories as they listened calmly. There was a silence for a moment until Alexis talked.

“_Like I give a fuck! He drugged you! Don't expect me to go easy on him because of his sob story.”

Aurelius winced at his colorful language but agreed with him nonetheless. [Name] smiled gently at them.

“_ I'm not asking you to forgive him. I'm just stating the core reason for Neige's Overblot. Neige is incapable of valuing himself for what he is. For him, his worth can only be equated to his usefulness.”

She understood this feeling better than anyone. As a former child actor and having grown up in a toxic family, she understood what Neige had gone through. Unlike her, Neige was probably not aware of his own abuse.

“_ I see… Well, you may want to know. I decided to exclude Neige for a week.

_ Only a week? Don't tell me you are planning to let him go scoff free!”

[Name] looked at Vil who frowned at Ambrose’s words. She wanted to comments on how Crowley is letting every Overblotted students off the hook without any repercussions. Aside from Leona who almost got disqualified for Magicshift. The RSA director only laughed.

“_ Of course not. But I think that everyone can get a second chance, if they do show determination and sincerity. The same could be said for you. When I call for you as a primary suspect, I wanted to give you a chance to defend yourself. And if you were the culprit, a chance to redeem yourself.”

Vil couldn’t say if he was unconfortable or just jealous. The director knew Neige longer than him, so it was normal to trust him more than the actor. On the opposite, Crowley didn’t hesitate to send Vil the moment the school reputation was brought up. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Thanks to Ambrose, Vil was able to return to school. He covered it as a flu, he and [Name] caught that. The young girl coming from a different and closeted “land”, her immunity system was a bit weaker than them. It was the excuse they gave everyone to explain their absences.

“_Where is Neige? I would like to talk to him before he leave.”

There was another silence.

“_Hey! You heard her? So, are you going to hide behind that wall longer?”

Alexis growled looking toward the open door. They could see a shoulder flinching but no other mouvement. Seeing that he wasn’t going to move, the gentle-looking boy felt even more pissed.

“_ COME IN!!! YOU PIECE OF S…. syrup! I was going to say syrup.”

Everyone looked at him unconvinced and Aurelius couldn’t help but stifle a chuckle. He was going to be in trouble if he continued to swear like a sailor. Vil on other side was wondering if it was a normal for small and delicate looking boys to have a foul mouth. This was the second one after Epel. That being said hearing Neige getting insulted didn’t felt bad. He will acknowledge that Neige’s situation was sad, but it didnt mean he would like him. If anything, he had even more resentment toward him.

Neige walked inside, his eyes darted to the floor unable to confront their stare. Taking on the cue, Ambrose made everyone leave. Aurelius and Alexis couldn’t help but glare at Neige.

“_Scream if he try to do anything suspicious.

_ Yeah, we will beat him for you if he try anything so don’t worry.”

Aurelius and Alexis said while burning hole with their glare on Neige. Vil felt refreshed in a way. Look like RSA too could be a little violent.

Alone, Neige and [Name] looked at each other for moment. The boy looked devastated, remorse was obvious on his face.

“_ I’m sorry… I…

_ I never liked you more than a friend, Neige.”

Neige flinched a little. He could feel a lump forming in his throat. He looked at her before smiling at her. He tried to push back on his need to cry. He was aware, she didn’t share his feeling.He was going to use this week to reflect on it. Deep down he felt like he didn’t have any right on loving her or coveting her affection.

“_ I know… I’m quite aware of it now. I just want to say it at least once. I love you, [Name].”

[Name] was speechless for a moment. His eyes shined with a resolve she never saw in him before. Something changed in him, he looked a little bit more like a man rather than a delicate boy. Both exchanged a small laugh before Neige stood up to leave. She rejected his confession but at least she acknowledged it.

Neige was walking down the stair under the two freshmen’s glare. It was understandable for them to hate him. Remembering something, he stopped in his tracks and looked at them.

“_Please, take care of her.

_We don’t need you to tell us that.

_Just leave already!”

Neige chuckled a little looking at the two. What a duo of brave little knight they were.

“_Right, before I forgot. Don’t trust Henry that much.”

Aurelius frowned a little. What does his dormleader have to do with all this? The young man felt his stomach churn. Pushing his worry aside, he walked back inside the bedroom once he was sure Neige left the dorm.

Act I: Poison of Delusion. (END)

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Tag

@cocomollo @owodi @illytian

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst oc #vil schoenheit #neige leblanche #rsa oc #twst rsa #twisted wonderland rsa #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere neige leblanche x reader #yandere neige leblanche #neige le blanche x reader #twst neige #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil x reader #vil schoenheit x reader

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artsymeeshee · 2 months

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It isn't much of an ask, as more of a thank you.

Your heavier toned sea grunk comic with Stan discussing his thoughts of suicide has always held a place in my heart.

I started into the fandom around January 2022, and was pretty introverted getting into it. At that time, I was around 13 years into my undiagnosed depression, and failed one attempt to end it in that span. My introverted nature and being so warped kept me from wanting to engage with others from the fandom. I figured I was an outsider with more issues than what could be handled, and no one would be there for me(and I wouldn't blame them).

I didn't think that around July 2022, people would begin reaching out to me, understanding me, and accepting me. I found kindred spirits and my family. And in September, my best friend found me. She is the Ford to my Stan. She has stuck by me and loved me when I have been unlovable and it wasn't required. And we bonded over our favorite guys of course. She got me into Tumblr, and this was one of the first comics that I saw, and it made me bawl. It felt like talking to my best friend face to face, even 500 miles apart.

Then, shifting into December 17, 2023, I tried again to go, standing in the freezing night on the edge of the local bridge, seeing the dark, and waiting to embrace it. And everything that I loved flooded me in that darkness: My best friend, all my friends I had made, my family, and this comic. Stan felt that way, but he held on, because he got Ford back. It was part of why I stepped down, and just sat for awhile, and took the time to finally get help. Those feelings are now distant and rare when I reached out for proper help.

Even now, I'm struggling, but not wanting to be in that place again. Just feeling like I'm inadequate as a spouse, but we are both working through it. It has been difficult the last few weeks, and this comic emerges again today, and flooded me all over again with the reminder that Stan chose to live, even if it was hell for a long time, and I can do it too.

So, if you haven't fallen asleep on me yet, I just wanted to thank you for making this comic. And for all of them. It resonates with me deeply, and frequently more than you'll ever know, and at points, has kept me here.

Thank you 👉👈

🥺🥺 Oh wow. I don't know what to really say but thank you for opening up and telling your story. I know it can be really hard to open up like that. It makes me happy to hear that things have gotten a lot better, even if it's not 100%.

That comic was a spur of the moment kind of thing because I was originally going to make just a vent post of myself but then something about wanting to get out particular thoughts I've had through Stan seemed like a better approach. Perhaps this could come as a bit of surprise to some but as much art of Ford I've done, Stan is actually the favorite of the two.

I kind of thought that comic was going to be my last at the time. My mind spiraled pretty bad during that time last year and figured that it wasn't worth trying to say how I've been and just leave because I genuinely believed I was better off no longer being part of the Fandom. I still think I do on some days but seeing messages like these or even small encouraging ones is enough to think I am still worthy enough to stay.

❤️

#ask #gravity-falls-fanatic89 #this week must be make artsy cry (in a good way) lol #but i appreciate it #really i do #y'all are amazing #❤️#long post

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atrwriting · 3 months

Text

chapter sixteen: control -- aemond x highborn!reader

i have been re-inspired. hehe

what does everyone think of the new season??

share ur thoughts and lets rant together

and let's celebrate with a new installment for this fic ;) happy reading everyone -- thanks for sticking with this story after so long :)

barely edited yuh

as always, warnings: no smut, misogyny, pregnant reader, weapons

chapter sixteen...

"are you..." you began, swallowing, closing and unclosing your fists by your side. "...are you angry with me, aemond?"

he did not answer you. he sat by the fire, staring into the flames, and unfazed by your words. you had only seen him like this a few times, but this was the first time you had ever believed it could be because of your actions.

in your head, you knew there was cause for his anger if it was directed at you. you were a woman, a princess by marriage, during a time of war because, and, as they believed, a woman who did not know her place. you could've scoffed, thrown a remark — but where would that get you? you had done the exact thing they were afraid of — acted like their greatest enemy.

obviously these men were wrought with sexism, and you knew it was wrong. you didn't want to marry into the family because of it, but somehow you had found where you comfortably fit and could chew and swallow the bits you did not care for. down, down, down they went — buried deep, and you hoped they would never unearth themselves. unfortunately, here they were: not letting you or the babe rest. you expected this from the king, his mother, his grandfather, and everyone else...

but aemond? not aemond. not him, your husband — your sweet, sweet husband of all people.

and still, he did not answer. you chewed on your bottom lip as you gaze flickered between the back of his head and the flames. the night's events had turned sour because of your bold actions, and you knew you shouldn't make it a habit... but here you were, in the safety and privacy of your own with your husband.

one more time wouldn't hurt... you hoped.

hope had gotten you this far...

you glided over towards your husband and where he sat, and sank to your knees. you placed one palm over each of his knees as you peered up at him. his jaw was set and tightened as he glanced down his nose at you. there was not an ounce of warmth in his gaze, but you could not return that emotion. your head was dipped, almost bowed, as you stared up at your husband with your large dark eyes.

"please," you pled, voice cracking. "please talk to me."

"you did enough talking back there for both of us, princess," he spat. "it would not please you to do it again?"

your eyebrows scrunched at his words. "he insinuated i was dirty, and in turn the babe in my belly. your son. our son."

"i know what he said," he spat. "he was arrested for it."

"then make me understand, husband, please..." you asked softly. "i can't — i can't stand the thought of you upset with me."

"you were not thinking about that then, why should i grant you the care you ask for now?" he spat once more.

you stood at that, fists bawled at your side. "because i came back for you, aemond. if this baby died — we could have another, but i can't have another you."

he scoffed, standing also and glaring down at you. "and yet we just might have another rhaenyra in this camp."

"how dare you!" you hissed. "I am nothing like her! — she tried to pawn me off to her son — as if I were cattle! as if i don't have your babe in my belly!"

he stepped closer to you, fire brewing in his eyes. "yes, her son — the sweet, kind, and honorable jacaerys velaryon who you would've rode off into the sunset with once my brother and i, and our line, were crisp from his dragon's fire. the bastard boy who tormented me when we were younger, and stood by and watched as his brother took my eye! am i to believe you weren't even slightly tempted by their offer?"

your face fell at his words and your lip trembled. "i did not come back for the man who is acting like the spitting image of his grandsire. I thought you would be impressed that i had sacrificed as much as I did — practically falling from a tower, running from that menace daemon, and stealing a dragon — but i see now that you and your family do not hate rhaenyra; you hate all women that show that they have as strong of stones as a man does. the man i love, the man i risked death for, then man who was impressed with my knife skills, would not hurl these insults at me — not when I was gone for so long, presumed dead. i came back for my aemond, the father of my child, the father i want the son in my belly to look up to, to cherish, to honor — but you are not him."

aemond did not respond. he titled his head upwards, and glared down his nose at you. you felt small, and full of shame. you didn't understand why — you had no reason to, but you couldn't help it. you felt as dirty as the lord hand had insinuated you were.

unclean. impure. rotten.

fucking soiled.

you swallowed, casting your gaze towards the ground. "i was taken against my will, but the man i loved left by choice. i sacrificed everything to come back, but your pride will not allow you to do the same."

you left the tent, and he did not follow.

the leaves crunched underneath your feet as you stalked away from your tent — well, your husband's tent. your womanhood prevented you from having anything being yours, even shared. you scoffed openly then, as tears threatened to leak from your weary and tired eyes. your gaze hung low, like your head — coupled in shame, guilt, regret, anger... they all welled, swirled, and filled the space inside you until it was hard to swallow.

you scoffed at the thought. you may have loved aemond, but you knew a conversation like that would not be happening at dragonstone. peace, love, and happiness there for young lovers — but not here. you didn't know if you regretted your decision.

you did know that if you stayed a moment longer in that castle — daemon targaryen would've given you another reason to want to leave. you shook off feelings of regret — fake equality was worse than sexism in some ways.

and that's how you found yourself in the training yard of the camp. you immediately picked up daggers, eyeing the fighting dummy. a few slashes here and there — that was enough for you to lose yourself in the groove.

there was no sexism in the night, when all the men slept.

you scoffed at the thought, swiping at your faux opponent.

"you could gut him with that blade," a voice in the distance spoke.

you whipped around to face the owner of the voice. ser cole, who stood a few yards away. you straightened at the sight of him, acknowledging his presence. you clenched your jaw before turning back around to the dummy. you heard his footsteps approach.

"there are two men that come to mind," you mumbled.

"careful, princess." while an honest warning, you heard the smile in his voice.

you turned to face him, jaw clenching. "i regret... my outburst, but i do not regret my words."

"it is not for me to have an opinion on the words of a princess," he responded.

you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. "you're probably the only person who's opinion i wouldn't despise, even if it differed from my own, ser cole."

his jaw clenched then, gaze averting to the ground and then back to your face. "would you like to hear my opinion from a year ago on whether women should wield knives, princess?"

you chuckled. "please, ser cole."

"I would have found it improper," he replied, evenly.

you sighed and nodded your head. "and now?"

"necessary."

you laughed sadly at that. "thank you, ser cole... i find myself in almost in better spirits."

you began to turn back around before he spoke once more.

"the prince did not fair well in your absence, princess," he gushed. "the lord hand... considered him... distracted."

you cast your gaze to the floor as realization hit you. "so the hand blamed me... even upon my return."

ser cole's silence was enough of an answer for you.

"the things we do for love," you scoffed, shaking your head. your knives fell from your hands and hit the ground with a thud as tears began to prick at your eyes. "you are lucky that aches of the heart will not torment you into fighting a dummy in the dead of the night like my pathetic self."

"i am a stranger to love now, princess... but there was a time when it plagued me as well."

you glanced up at him then, offering him a small, sad smile. "my apologies... i did not know."

he shook his head, gripping the handle of his sword in his belt. "you didn't, but she did. she knew what she wanted, and it wasn't what i could offer her."

you stared at him, an open book for him to write his secrets on. you never considered him a confidant, but you were desperate for the approval of any man in power at the camp to think you were better than you felt — to wash away the stained words of the lord and your lord husband. you weren't dirty. you weren't soiled. you weren't impure, unworthy, or ruined. you were a woman — a wife and a mother, filled with love and rage and everything that came with it. you demanded respect, fought tooth and nail for it — but ser cole gave it willingly. you were grateful, almost too eager for the washing away of otto hightowers words that felt like sins. so you nodded, signaling for ser cole to continue.

"my offer wasn't enough for her." sadness caused ser cole to glance off into the distance and fold his lips underneath each other. his past appeared to torment him behind his eyes, and you wanted to comfort him, as you would with anyone... but you didn't know how. he was not your husband... barely a friend. fortunately, he continued, "but that is not the case here. it is not easy to be a woman in your position... and still you choose it, over everything."

tears welled in your eyes at his words. with each word, ser cole seemed to be as surprised that he was saying this to you as he was surprised to believe it. he continued, "no matter how difficult the challenge is, your loyalty does not waver. you are true to the prince, even now."

your eyes burned with anguish and sadness, but you swallowed it at the kindness ser cole had showed you. "t-thank you, ser cole. i don't think any words of mine can express how much i appreciate you saying that."

he gave you a curt nod then. "you should know, princess... i wouldn't mind hearing your opinions, even if we differed, because i doubt we would disagree."

you wiped at your tears and laughed. you smiled sadly at him, when you spotted a head of white walking towards you and the knight. your eyes darted past the knight, and you straightened. ser cole read your body language, and followed in suit.

"my prince," ser cole greeted, assuming the position.

aemond stood next to the knight, but kept his attention on you. "thank you for ensuring my wife's safety, ser cole. please — leave us."

the knight bowed his head before sending you a quick, knowing look. you looked on his leave with sadness before your eyes barely glossed over your husband's form. you turned back towards the dummy.

"you ignore your husband after he goes looking for you?" he asks, walking toward you.

you scoffed. "please go to bed, husband. your days are long with war approaching."

he stopped a foot away from you. "with the baby's arrival approaching, you should be in bed as well."

you shook your head, ignoring him. how dare he, after everything he said? when you did not respond, he stepped closer to you. any closer, and he would be getting the way of you and your knives.

"he survived on the back of a dragon," you spat, keeping your gaze on the dummy. "you insult him with your words."

"as stubborn as his mother, he is, then," he replied. "and that's why you should rest."

you whipped around to face him then. his words hit you, but you did not absorb them. you couldn't believe them, nor trust him.

the hardness had left your husband's expression then. anger had left him like you had those weeks or months ago — you couldn't keep track. his lips parted, whereas they were pressed into a thin line when he was focused and angry. his glare was no longer hardened, as his stare was not a glare at all. there was not warmth in his eye, no... but there was chill. you thought back to cole's words, about aemond not fairing well without you — and realized that the lack of warmth in aemond's eyes was that he felt cold, especially without you.

"i will when you tell me what i asked to hear," you compromised.

he clenched his jaw, and did not answer for a few moments. when you eyed him, he sighed and averted his eyes from yours. tossing and turning with the words in his head, he finally returned his gaze to you. "you were right... about my pride. i was angry with you because you said what i never felt like i could."

you swallowed his words after they hit you. it was bittersweet; the triumph of being right, but also how damning being right could be.

the bitterness overpowered any sugar. it swirled within you like a sour herb, not quite ripe yet. you sucked in your cheeks slightly at the faux taste and mulled over your words.

"I am not the type of woman that gains satisfaction from proving her husband wrong," you spat. "i just wanted you be... proud of me, and least of all happy to see me."

he immediately reached to grab your face then, and you dropped your knives. the prince pressed his cold hands to your blushed cheeks, and you sucked in a sharp breath. his eye was cold, focused, and almost angry. for the second time that evening, the prince was angry because of your words.

"i almost burned the entirety of the seven kingdoms to the ground in your absence!" he spat, hands shaking with angst. "and then, somehow, though impossible — you descend into camp on the back of a dragon! my wife, my sweet, wife — saving our son, my person, and my — our line, in the process. i would've killed every last man, woman, child just to see you again! how dare —"

you didn't let him finish. you pushed yourself to your toes, and kissed him. almond's hands gripped your waist, pulling you towards him as you pressed your hands to both of his cheeks. your tongues tangled with each other as you lost yourself in him and his embrace.

"words would not be able to convey how much I missed you, husband," you weeped. "you were the only thing that got me through my days there. every time i feared falling from the rope — all i could think about was you. i needed to get back to you, and only you."

he kissed you then, smiling. "as it was made apparent, my heartache proved to be as much of a liability to my grandsire. you and i — we are stronger together."

you sobbed at his words, going to press your lips to his once more. he gave you a small peck before he pulled away, much to your dismay.

"that is why i have decided to allow you to train and fight," he spoke. "we will be by each other's sides. as warriors."

your heart welled with happiness and satisfaction, but you couldn't help but ask, "do you not fear for the baby?"

"i do, but his mother has shown that she can protect him better than anyone." aemond began to cry then, and you went to wipe away his tears. "attempting to place you in a box was wrong. i thought that if you were close enough, i could save you if something happened, but when i sent you away... that was when i lost you. i trusted others to take care of my wife, to place her far from battle, when i should've kept her by my side. i will not make that mistake again. i want you by my side, my love. we are stronger together.��

“together,” you repeated, tears filling your eyes. you stared up at your husband in awe, unable to fight the smile that spread across your face. “together — through fire and blood.”

"through fire and blood."

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collegeishardbutwritingisharder · 1 year

Text

Yandere Kalim Al-Asim x Little Brother Reader Headcanons/Short Story(?)

Sunshine child time! I've actually had a good idea for Kalim for the longest time and I'm excited about it so let's go! Fun fact: when I started writing this, I just came up with a second brother for Kalim. I hate myself for this.

Warnings: Clingy Yandere

Kalim Al-Asim

Brother A:

You're the second oldest in the Asim line. It's also useful to note that you are the only one who is also Kalim's full brother.

You absolutely adore your older brother and the adoration is fully returned. You two are barely ever seen apart. Heck, when you both were tiny, if you were separated for two seconds, Kalim would start full on bawling. Your parents killed two birds with one stone and had you two share a room.

You two were basically the same person, mainly for the fact alone that you tried to mimic Kalim's every move. Your parents would start to call you 'Tiny Kalim' as a joke but it stuck for years.

"Kalim! Tiny Kalim! It's time for dinner!"

"Yay! Come on, Tiny Kalim! I heard that it's a whole buffet!"

"Coming! Is Jali joining us?"

"He should already be down there!"

"Okay!"

We both ran throughout the house to the dining room. We were so excited to eat what was made! We both enjoyed a big feast.

"I wonder if they have curry!"

"I hope that they have some coconut juice to drink!"

We both took our seats at the table and started bouncing up and down. Food always got us into an excitable mood.

"Alright, alright calm down."

"Jamil!"

"Jali!"

Jali was a nickname that I came up with for Jamil when I first started to learn how to talk. If I had a nickname, that meant I was going to give everyone else a nickname as well. I call Kalim Big Bro more often than not but sometimes, I call him Carpet Rider. He's really talented at flying a carpet.

"Here you go, Kalim."

Jamil set a plate of food in front of Kalim and made sure that nobody else touched the food. Kalim let out a light cheer before digging into his food. I had to wait for another twenty minutes before a servant brought me my food. I let out my own cheer.

I got my utensils and grabbed a big bite.

"Hehehe, Tiny Kalim!"

I felt a tap on my shoulder and I looked to see who it was. I turned back to see Kalim eat my food.

"Hey!"

"Hahahaha!"

This was always a normal interaction between you and Kalim.

When your other siblings came into the picture, you both tried to make sure that everyone felt welcomed into the family. All of the games that you would play would result in complete chaos. Mainly for the fact that everyone would lose who was It.

Your mother kept a careful watch over her two children to make sure that the other mistresses wouldn't dare hurt you two.

Although that doesn't stop them from trying to get you to hurt Kalim.

"Hey, Tiny Kalim. Come over here for a second will ya?"

"Huh? Yeah, do you need something?"

"Could you do me a favor and put the contents of this vial into your older brother's drink?"

"Maybe?"

"If you do, I'll make sure that you get a sweet treat~"

I just stayed silent but took the vial from the lady. She's the mother of my fourth and fifth younger siblings, who are very sweet to me. I don't want her to be thrown out and lose those two.

I looked at the vial a little closer and saw the skull and crossbones etched into the glass. Another poison... Why does everyone come to me to poison my brother? Thankfully, I know exactly what to do with this anyway!

"Hey! Hey, Mr. Ver!"

"Huh? Oh! It's Tiny Kalim! What brings you here?"

"I was just out on the town when I remembered you talking about how a weed completely took over your favorite flower bed. Do you think that this type of poison will clear it out?"

"Hmmm, let me take a little looksie."

Mr. Ver took the vial from me and poured it on a recently fallen leaf. It took only thirty seconds for the leaf to just shrivel up on itself. If Kalim actually drank that...

"Wow! Good choice, Tiny Kalim! Thank you for being so considerate!"

I only gave him a shaky smile and a quick nod of my head. I needed to go find Jamil and warn him.

"Tiny Kalim!!"

Nevermind, my job just got easier.

Kalim tackled me in a behind hug and squeezed extremely tight. I let out a laugh before enveloping Kalim's arms with my own.

"Hiya, Kalim! Do you know where Jali is?"

"Over here, (Y/N)."

I looked over to Jamil and I gave him a slight wave. I then looked back to Kalim.

"Big Bro, would you mind if I talked with Jamil alone for a few seconds?"

Kalim's smile dropped and his eyes became dull for like two seconds. It was like it never happened because his smile came back full force.

"Of course!"

There was a slight strain to his voice but I just brushed it off as a bad day. I grabbed Jamil's arm and walked out of hearing range while still able to keep Kalim in our sight.

"What did you want to talk about with me, (Y/N)?"

"Our father's third wife gave me poison to give to Kalim. I just wanted to warn you so you can keep a close eye on him."

"Hmmm, thank you for the warning, (Y/N). It's greatly appreciated."

I gave Jamil a nod. It's so weird to hear my actual name instead of Tiny Kalim. But it felt really nice.

This wasn't the only time you were given poison and then figured out how to get rid of it.

You were also given small weapons and some money but you were prepared for that as well. Whenever you got a weapon, you went to the hunters to find out if they could use it. They were willing to take whatever weapons you had and gave you even more money for them. Then you would take whatever money that you got from selling the weapons and the money that you were given and give it all to Jamil. The man needs the money more than anybody else does.

Sadly, your 'tricks' put a target on your back as well.

"Hrk!"

"Tiny Kalim?!"

I felt my stomach convulse and out came the food that I had just eaten. Normally, that wouldn't freak me out if it wasn't for the fact that there was also some blood in what I threw up. And my body wasn't done yet.

Jamil quickly grabbed some of my food and put it in a plant. The plant shriveled up, making my eyes tear up. I should have been expected to be poisoned.

"His food was poisoned. We need to get him to a healer!"

Kalim picked me up and sprinted towards the healer's office. My body was still heaving, trying to throw more and more up even though my stomach was empty. This was very painful.

"Please! Help my little brother!"

"Oh my! Please set him down!"

I felt the healer work and let out a sigh of relief. Kalim looked extremely terrified by the fact that I was poisoned. The amount of tension that I had in my body released and I blacked out.

When I came back to reality, Kalim was sitting by my side, clutching my hand tightly. I don't even think that blood could flow naturally in my hand with how tight Kalim was gripping it. I weakly tried to get him to let go of my hand but it notified him that I was awake and I got trapped in a bear hug.

It's safe to say that you could barely leave Kalim's side after that.

Kalim was terrified at the thought of losing his only full sibling and felt useless about the fact that he couldn't protect you.

He demanded that Jamil would also be at your beck and call for the fact that and I quote 'Tiny Kalim needs Jamil more than I could ever!'

It's also safe to say that Kalim was less friendly to your other siblings. Still be courteous to them but refusing to let them play with you.

"Tiny Kalim! Tiny Kalim!"

I turned around to see Malik and Maia, twins by the way, running towards me, holding what seemed to be new toys. Not that surprising considering their birthday was only two days ago.

"Tiny Kalim! We haven't seen you for what feels like forever! Come and play with us!"

"I would lo-"

"(Y/N)."

I turned my head to Jamil, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. As always, he had a poker face on.

"Yes, Jali?"

"Kalim has requested your presence."

"Ah, I see."

I then turned back to the twins and gave them a sad smile.

"Sorry guys. But it seems like our older brother needs me for something."

"Awwwwww, but we really wanted to play with you."

"I know. How about this? As soon as I'm done with whatever Big Bro needs from me, I'll come and find you as soon as possible! Then we can play the night away!"

"YAY!"

Now with Malik and Maia happy once again, I started to follow Jamil to wherever Kalim was.

"You do realize that Kalim most likely won't let you go before it's way past their bedtime right?"

"Yeah, I'm just trying to figure out what he wants from me this time. This is the fifth time that he has called me today alone! It's over a hundred if you count the rest of the week."

"I did take count. With this call, the count becomes 134."

"Oh goodness. How long do those meetings take normally?"

"Six hours is the average that Kalim will keep you normally."

"I need to talk about this with Big Bro."

You tried to talk with Kalim about the current monopoly that he was trying to have over your time.

Kalim decided to pull one of his best tactics.

"Monopoly over your time? Do you really believe that I'm trying to be selfish? I'm just trying to protect you, Tiny Kalim!"

"Big Bro, I don't have any doubts that you're only concerned about my well being but! It has been feeling like you're trying to prevent me from hanging out with anybody else lately. Well, other than Jali."

"I'm quite hurt that you would blame me like this. I guess that you don't love me anymore."

"That's not true! I still love you, Big Bro!"

"Then why must you push me away so often?!"

Kalim's eyes were starting to well up with tears and were quickly overflowing. He broke down into tears while huge sobs escaped from his mouth. I felt my heart twist at the sounds. The feeling was awful in my chest. I walked towards Kalim before enveloping him in a hug of my own.

"Please don't cry, Big Bro. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings! I was just being dramatic! I won't push you away again."

"Do you promise?"

Kalim's eyes were so broken. The tears streaming down his face added to the pain in my chest.

"I promise."

Ever since that promise was made, Kalim made sure that you would never leave his side. Wherever Kalim went, he made sure that you were coming along or would tell Jamil to drag you along.

You can't really remember the last time that you were truly alone. Either Jamil was in the same room, staring from the corner or you would be right by Kalim's side.

This persisted until it was time for Jamil to leave for NRC.

Kalim and I were watching as Jamil was getting ready to enter a black carriage. A smile was present on my face while Kalim was basically vibrating with excitement.

"Bye, Jamil! Have fun and stay safe!"

"Yeah! It's going to feel slightly lonely without you around!"

"Hehe, it'll be fine without me. You two have each other after all."

After those parting words, Jamil entered the coffin and the carriage rode off with him. Despite the fact that he couldn't see us, Kalim and I were waving our arms in the air until the carriage was no longer in sight.

"You know? You're right. It already does feel a bit lonelier without him."

"I know! Either way, let's go back inside. I want to play some Mancala with you, Tiny Kalim!"

When Jamil left, your mother and father took extra precautions with you. Since Kalim's most trusted servant was no longer available, they upped your guard count to make sure that neither you nor Kalim would be left alone.

Eventually, Kalim's magic appeared and he showed your parents. Everybody was overjoyed for Kalim and threw a party to celebrate him.

Shortly after the party and two months after Jamil left, an invitation from NRC arrived for Kalim!

Everyone was enthused! Well, almost everyone.

"NO!"

"KALIM! Do not fight with me! This is a huge honor!"

"Not unless Tiny Kalim is coming along as well!"

I kept my ear pressed close to the doors while the argument persisted. Kalim tried to burn the invitation when he got it and it sparked this argument. Dad wasn't very happy with how Kalim was acting. But Kalim wasn't completely above throwing a mild tantrum.

I stepped away from the door before sitting between two of our guards. I looked at both of them but neither of them dared to meet my gaze. I closed my eyes and wondered about how we reached here. Kalim's possessiveness, my willingness to play along, Jamil leaving. Kalim has become basically entitled to all of my attention.

I'm mildly hoping that Mom and Dad say no. Maybe the separation will benefit both of us.

"WAHOO!"

But that scream tells me otherwise.

Yep, Kalim was able to convince your parents to pull some strings to get you a ticket into NRC as well.

You were two months late into the school year but since Jamil has been there, he was able to catch you both up to speed.

"JAMIL!"

Jamil's head whipped around so fast that I was afraid of his neck getting hurt. Kalim basically body slammed him to the ground while I was running to catch up with both of them.

"KALIM?!"

"Yep! Did you miss us?"

Kalim was slightly bouncing while still keeping a strong grip on Jamil's shoulders.

"Us?"

"Hi, Jali!"

Jamil then saw me standing a bit away from the two. I gave him a slight smile and wave. Jamil's face displayed shock before he schooled his expression. Kalim finally got off of him and stood up. Once Jamil was on his feet, I gave him a hug of my own. No point in knocking him back down.

Jamil cleared his throat before talking.

"What brings you two here?"

"We're joining NRC!"

Jamil's eyes widened and Kalim took that as a sign to elaborate.

"I'm able to use magic now after many years of practice! I kept trying and trying and trying. But now, it has finally clicked! I got a letter a few days ago and tada~! Now, we're here!"

"That explains why you're here. But why is (Y/N) here?"

"I'm here because-"

"How could I possibly let Tiny Kalim be on his own?! We've been together since he was born! Not to mention, how would I be able to keep a proper eye on him?!"

Kalim interrupted me again. He has been getting into the habit of speaking for me. I guess I'm to blame for that as well.

Jamil only nodded his head before muttering stuff under his breath.

NRC days seemed to be pretty much the same to you as days in the palace.

Hang out in Kalim's room, eat with Kalim, hang out with Kalim and go to classes with Kalim.

You had tried to make new friends with the people of the dorm but Kalim always sent Jamil to find you. It was amazing how he knew whenever you had free time.

"Isn't NRC so cool?"

Kalim and I were resting on his bed staring at his ceiling. He recently became dorm leader. How? We have no idea other than Crowley randomly telling him one morning.

"Yeah, I guess."

I haven't been able to see much of NRC if I'm being honest. The most that I've seen outside of Scarabia are the classrooms. Before Kalim goes to his after school activities, he drops me off in our room. And to add insult to injury, he also locks the door behind him.

"You guess?! Come on, Tiny Kalim! This place has basically everything! Plus, everybody is really nice!"

I wouldn't know, considering I can't talk with any of them since Jamil always comes and interrupts any conversation that I could have. I only nodded my head before putting a forced smile on my face. When did I lose my ability to be (Y/N) and became only Tiny Kalim?

That thought plagued me for the rest of the night. I couldn't even close my eyes. My thoughts were much too frantic for it.

The next day, you decided to do something that you haven't once thought of in your life.

You left the room while Kalim was asleep. You normally woke up early and waited for Kalim to wake up. But you really needed some alone time. Time to be (Y/N). Not Tiny Kalim.

You ran out of Scarabia to the main campus. You only really knew where the main building was so this was a good chance to learn more about it.

You first went to the gate and started to patrol the perimeter. The stars were your company for this nightly stroll! They were ten times better company than your brother or Jamil.

"I wish I paid more attention to Arqa's ramblings. He would know all of these stars by heart. And the constellations that are out at this time of year."

I spoke out loud to the stars. Nobody else was up at this time, which was mildly disappointing. At least back at Silk City, the night Bizarre would have many different faces. Some scary, some friendly, and some just faces.

I started to hum and dance with the cool air enveloping my body. I haven't felt this unburdened in forever.

"TINY KALIM!"

I felt a body collide with my own, sending both of us to the ground.

"Kalim!"

Kalim was snuggling into my front, his grip getting really tight. It was quite obvious that he had been crying again.

"WHAT HAPPENED?!"

"What do you mean?"

"WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?! I-I-I had to go to use the b-b-bathroom! AND WHEN I WOKE UP, YOU WERE GONE!! I-I-I-I THOUGHT SOMEONE KIDNAPPED YOU! I THOUGHT THAT I LOST YOU FOREVER, TINY KALIM!"

I listened to Kalim's crying before I saw Jamil walk up to us.

"He woke up the entire dorm to create a search party for you. That was very reckless."

I tilted my head down. My face felt so flushed from embarrassment.

"You should have left a note, (Y/N). I always thought that you weren't like Kalim but maybe... I should start calling you Tiny Kalim as well."

I felt my heart drop. Jamil was the only person who called me (Y/N). If he no longer does, would anybody remember my name?

Brother B:

You were the youngest (So far) of the Asim family. Your birth wasn't the biggest thing that has happened to the family but a few of your older siblings visited you the same day. One of those people was Kalim.

When it was his turn to hold you, Kalim felt something stir within his soul. He didn't know what exactly made you different from his other younger siblings that he has held. But he just felt such a connection with you!

There were plenty of times when you SHOULD have been with your mother that Kalim just took you instead. Whenever you needed to sleep, eat, or take a bath, Kalim would be the one to do it with you.

"Kalim! You need to stop taking (Y/N) whenever you want! I swear, if you keep this up, you'll become more of his mother than I am."

"But... (Y/N) likes to be with me! Right, (Y/N)?"

I babbled and put my fist in my mouth. I taste really nummy!

"See! He wants to be with me!"

Kalim would constantly run off with you. He took you to places that weren't really safe for your age.

Since your immune system wasn't as strong as a normal human being and you would normally get milk from your mother basically once a month, you would get sick quite often.

Kalim would feel mildly guilty since it was his fault but he would take the sickness as another thing to experience with you!

"Do you think that he's better yet, Jamil?"

Jamil took a breath before answering Kalim.

"No, Kalim. Look at him. His face is still flushed. Taking him out now would put him at risk."

I kept on crying. It was so hard for me to breathe! Plus I feel icky!

"I didn't mean to do that! You know that, right, Jamil?!"

"Yes, I know, Kalim. Come along. Let's give (Y/N) his medicine and let him sleep this sickness off."

A cup was put to my lips and a sweet syrup was in it. I drank it all up. What a sweet treat! I felt my eyes get droopy before I just passed out.

One year after you were born, Kalim was told that he was going to NRC after Jamil.

Kalim came up with a 'clever' plan.

He got special clothes to hide you in and snuck you into NRC without the Headmage or any of the other staff noticing.

"We're here! At our new home for a while!"

"Why are you shouting that, Kalim?"

"Because~~~!"

Kalim then reached into his secret pocket and pulled me out! I let out some giggles because it felt like I saw flying. Ooooo! Look! It's the grumpy guy again!

"Kalim... You're joking right? That's not actually (Y/N). Right?"

"Nope~! It's (Y/N) alright! I simply couldn't stand being away from him! I tried for one night. I had the caretakers move his crib out of my room and into his mother's but I couldn't sleep! What if he was crying?! What if he needed attention?! How was I supposed to know that he was safe if he wasn't with me at all times!"

The grumpy man just let out a sigh while Kalim spun me around in the air. He fell onto his bed with me on top of him.

"We're going to have so much fun here!"

Kalim took you to all of his classes, despite how much Jamil protested.

The staff would also raise an alarm but noticed that when you weren't there, Kalim wouldn't be able to focus and pay attention.

So they put up with you in their classes. Sometimes they would bring little toys for you to play with as well.

Eventually, letters started to come in. Letters from your mother.

"Hmmmmm."

I watched Kalim as he sat at his desk, looking at a piece of paper. I crawled over to him and started tugging on his pant leg.

"Huh? Oh!"

Kalim picked me up before setting me down on his lap. I looked at the paper too but it had weird scribbles on it.

"Your mother is quite upset with me, (Y/N)."

Kalim started talking and I just put my ear against his chest.

"She says that I shouldn't have taken you away from her. That I'm in the wrong for putting you at such risk. That I'm a monster who takes what doesn't belong to me. But that's where she's wrong, correct?"

I just tilted my head. I didn't really understand what he was saying.

"You do belong to me. You belong to me just as much as you belong to her. Just differently! I'm your older brother! It's my job to make sure that you live the best life that you can live! It's her job as the mother to bring you to life! She's already done her part of the job and now, it's my turn!"

Kalim gave me a huge smile, which I returned.

"See! I knew that you would agree with me!"

Kalim brought me into a hug. I reciprocated it but I was blind to the dark glint that appeared in his eyes.

"Maybe... I should send someone to remind her that she's done with her job."

#yandere #platonic yandere #tw yandere #ooc #child reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere x child reader #yandere kalim al asim

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sunny-mercya · 1 year

Text

Sickly Summer

Bonten x Male Baby Reader

Masterlist

Inspired by the many Stories @reallyromealone had done! Go and check his Blog out!

Mochi had you in his arms, carrying you through the living—back and forth, swaying in gentle manner from side to side—in hopes of, finally, calming you down.

Never did Mochi thought, that you, their little precious baby boy, could cry so much during one night and throughout the day. He knows babies do cry, a lot even sometimes, but this? This seemed way too out of place to be called normal behaviour.

Then again, you weren't feeling all that healthy well right now and your only way of telling them this, was through bawling.

«Here. Maybe a lukewarm bottle of Milk will soothe him a bit, till Rinny find his pacifier and plushy.» suggest Ran, emerging out from the Kitchen, holding the bottle to you. You scrunched your face up in disgust, before burying it back in Mochi's neck.

«Huh, I think so too, bud. Papa Ran surely doesn't wanna have a repeat of last time.» emphasised Mochi, going back to rocking you into soothing as soon as he heard your sniffles again.

Ran shrugged his shoulders in defeat. He doesn't know what to do either. Mochi was right though, neither Ran nor the others would like to have a repeat of what happen 2 weeks ago.

~~~

Bonten knew you had a very sensitive stomach, couldn't handle most, if not even all, foods and drinks. You got a special Diet plan, but even then it could happen that your stomach would go into a cramping strike.

Like how it happen two weeks ago; You had Semolina porridge for dinner, something you would eat most of the time since it was stomach friendly enough. Either it was Takeomi himself or one of them, who might have accidentally poured a bit too much sugar or any kind of spices in it, but it was a literally shit night after dinner.

Kakucho had changed your diapers about three times, till he decided to just stay with you in the bathroom throughout the whole night, as you shitted into a tiny bucket and if you weren't doing that, you would vomit till dry-heaving. Worst case of Diahrrea.

Takeomi was trying to get some fluids into you again, coaxing with mostly water and diluted milk, knowing well from his own experience with his siblings, that fluids are essentially necessary during such a time. Tough case it was though, you refused every time and had enough strength left to slap Takeomi's cup offering away.

Ever since then, they did good monitoring over your diet plan and what you eat.

~~~

Rindou came hopping into the living room, a big smile on his face as he triumphal hold up the pacifier. I mean, you had a whole box of them and your dads keep extra ones in the storage and to lose them is rather easy, but you had certain favourite ones and in times like these you only want them.

«Lookie lookie, [Name]! What Papa Rin has for you,» Rindou gently put the pacifier into your mouth—which seemed to sooth you right away as you sucked on it—taking you from Mochi's arms and prepped your face with kisses.

A slight frown came over Rindous face. Sitting himself on the couch, you on his lap, he take good glance at your chubby face.

Cheeks flushed red, eyes swollen and still brimmed with left over tears. Your tiny chest heaving heavily, you weakly gripping his shirt.

«Did you two shitlings make him cry more?» Rindou give a slight glare at them, almost accusing.

«No we didn't, asshat. If you couldn't tell already, our darling baby isn't feeling goodie.»

«Thanks, Mr. Obvious. For telling me.»

«Be glad Mikey and Kakucho aren't here or you two would have to put 20Yen into the swear-jar.» Kokonoi's amusing chuckling brought the Haitani Brothers out of their word squabbling. They hadn't heard that Kokonoi has come in.

The three watched how Kokonoi put some bags down onto the coffee table. Rummaging through them, Kokonoi pulled out a small stuffed frog and one of those squeeze balls.

As soon as you notice what one of your dads had in his hands, your eyes lit up and made grabby hands towards him. Koko give it to you.

«Is he getting better? Did you gave him something to drink already?»

«To both of your questions, Koko, is the answer no.» Rindou and Ran said it at the same time.

Mochi sighed, having make a cup of coffee for himself. One of the strong types, which a shot of Vodka in it. Mochi loved you, but parenting was exhausting sometimes and they all could agree to this.

~~~

It didn't take long till the rest, besides Mikey who was still in the office and probably doing some last minute paperwork's, had come home too.

You sat on the ground, in front of the TV—Ran had put on some child friendly cartoons, but you didn't pay attention to it—playing with toys, your new stuffed friend sitting between your legs.

Kakucho and Rindou sitting besides you, being your play buddies. Glaring every so often at the others, who sat on the couch and giving playful comments about how good parent they are. It was mostly Sanzu and Ran who did.

«I was by the doctor and he said it's probably the summer heat, which makes [Name] so sick right now. We should try to keep him cool and give him light foods only.» told Takeomi, crouching down to you with a Sippy-cup in his hand.

A pocky stick hanging from his mouth, a replacement of a cigarette as Takeomi wasn't one to smoke around you. He offered you the cup, filled with milk. You took it, taking a few sips from it and give it back to your Papa, who pinched the bridge of his nose.

«At least [Name] didn't refused it right away and did drank some of it.» comment Mochi, going back to reading his newspapers.

Takeomi was concerned about you. Last summer you were fine, you hadn't any problem with the heat. So seeing you refusing food and drinks, crying through night and night and not even going potty in your diapers at all, did raise red flags of concern for Takeomi.

They really need to bring you to the doctor, but you're a fussy child and just being at the front door, brought you to tears—which raise another set of questions for Takeomi.

When Mikey had come back home, he ignored the mess of toys and stuffed animals in the living room. Too tried to care about tidiness, non of them were the best when it comes to do household chores, but for you they try to do.

After changing into nightwear, which consisted of only a pair of underwear and a oversized shirt, Mikey was making his towards Kakucho room, knowing well that you're in there. You might have your own room, crib, to sleep in, but you never do, preferring to sleep in the beds of your many dads.

Mikey pried you gently from Kakucho's arms, ignoring his incoherent mumbling and going into his own room.

Laying down onto his bed, god was Mikey exhausted, he hold you close. Giving you a small kiss to the head, shushing you back into sleep, when you begun to stir and lowly whine.

Mikey and the others would do anything to keep you loved and safe. You're Bontens heir, the ray of sunshine in their dark lives and the only family they still had left.

#male reader #anime #manga #x male reader #x male child reader #bonten #tokyo revengers #bonten x male baby reader #tokyo rev #mikey sano #ran and rindou #mochi #akashi takeomi #kokonoi hajime #fluff #fanfiction

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wardenparker · 7 months

Text

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 4

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story* Family dynamics that contain debating as a method of communication, heavy familial expectations, changing relationships, talk of pregnancy and childbirth. Summary: A family dinner at the White House, a meddling best friend, and the mysterious case of the missing Congressman. Notes: Shout out to Keri for making me unexpectedly bawl about three-quarters of the way into this chapter. Thanks for that, babe. As usual, sorry for an errors I might have missed and thanks for reading!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3

It isn’t unusual for a family to sit down to dinner together during the week. If you’re a busy family, living scattered about in different places, even a once-a-week dinner is worth scheduling. But when you’re the First Family, it gets a little complicated. The food is always amazing. That isn’t up for debate. And it is nice to actually see your mother when she isn’t surrounded by a swarm of staff or on a television screen. Alex and June are great too, when they aren’t being absolute pains in the asses. The only thing you’re hoping is that no one asks you about Sam at dinner tonight.

Family dinners always occur in the residence, around the long wooden table that is a substitute for the one you had grown up sitting around. No press, no phones at the table and the only interruptions that are allowed during this time is a matter of national crisis. Everything else can wait. It's why your mother is a successful politician while balancing her family, she gives everything its proper time. "So a little birdy told me that your inn is booked solid for the next few weeks." She looks over at you with a proud smile, aware that you work incredibly hard to make your vision, your dream, a success.

“Through April.” You nod, finishing a bite of food. The White House chef takes his chicken Marsala very seriously and it’s so good that you can’t get enough of it. “It never fails. People are always excited to see the cherry blossoms.”

“Will you still be able to attend the State dinner?” Although it was more a mandatory invitation, she would understand if you couldn’t break away. After all, she has a very demanding job as well.

“Of course.” Not aware that you had had any choice in the matter, you get smirked half-glances from your siblings that tell you they would try to get out too, if they could. “Although…I do have a question about that.”

She looks up from cutting her chicken, your father looking up from his glass of wine curiously. “What is that?”

“I know that it’s only a week away, so I am not asking for anything besides clarification.” Something about your parents’ reaction makes you feel like you need to say that out loud. Otherwise you might be up for one of your family’s famously endless debates. “Has the seating arrangement already been done so that all of us,” you motion to yourself and your two younger siblings. “Have a plus one?”

“Of course.” Your father has been the one handling the details of the State dinner and has meticulously planned the family seating arrangement. “Why?”

“Just double-checking. It’s the first State dinner, after all. I just want to make sure it goes smoothly.” It doesn’t matter that you were desperately hoping he would say no, or instantly offer to rearrange the seating chart if needed, or literally anything else that would get you out of having to have an uncomfortable conversation with Sam after barely talking to him at all the last few days. Maybe you could ask Juan to…Nope. There’s a rehearsal dinner at the inn that night. Shit.

“Good.” He smiles and gives you a knowing look. “I did not place Sam and you near too many political adversaries.” He snorts. “He won’t spend the entire night in a debate.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, Dad. Thanks.” There is a solid chance Sam would prefer that over the stony silence between the two of you, but you can’t say that. Not with your mother at the table. It will turn into a full-blown debate over what has gone wrong in your relationship and how to fix it, and you don’t need your meddling siblings to have that kind of ammunition on you. “So,” you turn to them instead. “Alex? Junie? You guys have dates?”

Alex rolls his eyes. “I’m bringing Dave, since he wants to go into law school.” He huffs. “He wants to intern with one of the senators.” Junie just shrugs. “Not yet.” She murmurs, bored by the idea of the dinner at all.

“Dave gets to come to a State dinner?” Your brother and his boyfriend generally keep things under wraps, and it works well since they’ve been best friends since they were kids. Like the gay male version of you and Sydney except they became a couple. “That’s sweet, Al. Maybe he’ll actually get you to behave yourself.”

“Never.” He flashes you a grin, making your mother huff in exasperation and amusement.

“No potential guest on the horizon for you, Junebug?” Your father asks, looking to his youngest child on the other end of the table.

“I’m either going to have someone want to go so they can rub elbows with politicians and brag they went to the State dinner, or be completely bored out of their minds.” She shrugs. “So I don’t know if I want to ask anyone.”

“Is that even an option?” You’re really trying not to make it sounds like you’re hoping for a yes, but you are. To be told you can go solo would solve every single one of your problems at the moment.

“We cannot have empty chairs.” Your father shakes his head. “Junie, if you don’t pick someone, we will have to find a filler.”

“Do you want me to ask Dave to bring his brother?” Alex offers, always only helpful to the baby of the family. “Noah can dance, doesn’t care about politics, and you can bitch about college the whole time of you want.”

“Please?” Her eyes turn hopeful and she knows that will be better than some filler guest.

“You got it.” Alex grins and flashes that thousand watt smile at your parents. “See? Problem solved.”

“Thank you.” Your father looks relieved and your mother gives him a smile before cutting into her chicken again. “Happy to have that settled.” She hums.

Settled. Ugh. If you weren’t about to turn thirty, you would be pouting at the table. Instead you let discussion float by, as your father double checks that all three of you have your White House approved outfits for the night and you’ve managed to memorize all the facts and statistics on the Spanish royal family that were handed out by your mother’s staff.

The dinner moves on to dinner dessert and the dinner plates are changed for wonderful pots of chocolate lava cake, a back up dessert for the State dinner for anyone with a gluten intolerance or nut allergy.

“This is amaaazing.” June groans, ever the chocolate fanatic.

“It is delicious.” Your mother agrees. “Rich.” She looks over at your father. “You said this was gluten free?”

“Hard to believe isn’t it?” He laughed like he’s got some trick up his sleeve but he’s really just pleased. “Apparently this is one of the easier cakes to do with alternative flours.”

“Perfect.” She might be President of the United States, but she and your father were a team. “You did wonderful finding an alternative, honey.”

“You like the orange sauce with it?” Everyone’s anxieties are high for this first occasion and your father wants everything to be perfect.

“Perhaps offer a raspberry or strawberry?” She suggests, looking around the table for everyone’s opinions. “What do you all think? In addition?”

“It’s a little sweet,” you admit, hating to ever disappoint your father. But there is a reason you all have so many round table discussions in your family. “Maybe blood orange would offset the sweetness a little? And be a little more luxurious?”

“Ohhhh blood orange would be amazing.” Alex chimes in, nodding in agreement. “Balance the sweetness of the chocolate.”

“Oh my god yes,” June groans, already having mostly inhaled her lava cake and furtively peaking to see if either you or Alex is going to be willing to give yours up.

Alex snorts when he sees that beseeching look on his younger sister’s face and slides his lava cake towards her.

“This is what you should have for your birthday.” Junie tells you emphatically, digging in to what’s left of your brother’s dessert. “No question.”

“Why? So you can eat all of it?” Your brother snorts. “But-“ he looks back over at you. “What are you having at your party?”

"I honestly haven't thought about it." There's still a month left until your birthday so it hadn't even crossed your mind yet. "Maybe I'll just go to a Nationals game if I can get away from work. Who knows?"

“Oh honey, you shouldn’t do that.” Your mother huffs slightly and shakes her head. “Go to a Nationals game, sure. But you need to have a party.”

"Why?" It sort of feels like whining this time, but you have to wonder what her logic is. "Because I'm one of the First Kids? Because I'm turning 30?"

“Because you deserve a party where others cater to your wants and is about you? Celebrating my oldest baby’s birthday.” She implores, expression soft and loving.

If there is one thing your mother is annoyingly good at it, it's showering love on her children despite being busy. No birthday ever went by without acknowledgement. No success uncelebrated. No set back unconquered. "So does that mean you and Dad are going to throw it and all I have to do is show up?" It's highly unlikely considering how busy they are, but you have to try, right?

“Absolutely.” Her grin is positively smug, like you have fallen into her trap, which - you have. “Of course, we are not going to have it at the White House.” She rolls her eyes slightly. “But you just pretend it will be a surprise. I’ll let Sam know where to bring you.”

"I can't know where to go myself?" Since there's a chance Sam won't even be in the picture in a few weeks, you would rather just have her tell you. "And please don't make it some big, formal thing? If I get told to wear an evening gown to my birthday, I'm not showing up."

“Nothing formal.” She promises. “No ballgown, but a nice dress.” She compromises, tilting her head. “For pictures? Not official ones, of course.”

Regular negotiations with the President should make you eligible for some kind of ambassador position even as her daughter, and you tilt your head at your mother before making a full agreement. "Cocktail attire maximum, the music cannot be described as orchestral anything, and the fancier the venue is, the lower class the food has to be. Those are my conditions."

“Finger foods inside of an upscale tavern?” She poses, smirking slightly at the way you negotiate with her. Out of all the children, you are the closest to her personality, even if you don’t see it. “With specially crafted cocktails to celebrate your birthday? And a playlist composed of your favorites songs from each year?”

"I'll build a core list for the music. Because I don't trust Alex not to sneak Cotton Eye Joe or something into the mix." Like any good wheeling-and-dealing adult child, you have to get just one more compromise in there before sealing the deal. "And I will provide you with a list of friends I'd like invited outside of the normal group. Obviously I know you'll give the information to Sydney, Anna Leigh, and Issy."

“Deal.” She nods and looks very pleased with the situation. “Honey, I will plan this.” She promises, reaching out and patting the back of your father’s hand. “I want to plan it.”

"Along with running the free world, she's also a party planner." Your brother snorts, always ready to tease. "You know you can just hire Juan to do it, Mom."

“No.” She snorts and blows a raspberry at your brother. “It’s my baby’s birthday. I want to plan the perfect party to ring in thirty.”

"And somehow Birdie still doesn't get that she's the favorite." June laughs, throwing you a smirk before she rolls her eyes playfully at Alex.

“Now you know that is not true.” Your mother protests, rolling her eyes. “I love all of you equally.”

"Yes, Mother." Alex and June chime in unison, making all of you break into laughter at the same time around the table.

“Managing you kids is almost harder than running the country.” She grumbles, even though she’s grinning.

"We just wanted you to have a lot of practice before you got to the White House." You assure her, still laughing with your siblings. "Because being Governor of Pennsylvania was definitely not enough. Your children are the real test."

“Yes they are.” She agrees, laughing with all of you and your father. The truth was, she has incredible children that she’s proud of beyond measure. Often she tells the world that her best accomplishment has been raising the three of you and it’s not line to appeal to her core voters, she truly believes that.

"So, I have a logistical question." Satisfied temporarily with the amount of chocolate consumed in one dinner, June sits back in her chair with her glass of iced tea and proves once more than kids take more corralling than countries. "If the State dinner is next Saturday, does that count as family dinner?

Your father rolls his eyes and sighs while your mom narrows her eyes in thought and looks towards her husband for his thoughts. “What do you think, honey?”

"The purpose of Friday night dinners is to have a chance to sit down together as a family and catch up. Enjoy each other's company. Celebrate the week's small wins." It's what they had agreed on years ago when this tradition had been born. "So by that logic, I would say no. Since we won't be sitting around enjoying each other's company while the king and queen of Spain are visiting." He narrows his eyes though, in a way that definitely speaks to how long your parents have been together. They have identical expressions right now. "Why, Junebug? Did you make other plans?"

“I—” she falters for a moment and then shrugs. “There’s a party I wanted to go to, but I don’t have to go if my presence is required.”

Your parents exchange a glance, that decades-long nonverbal communication at work for not the first time today. "Why don't we have dinner a little earlier?" You father offers. Compromise is always the name of the game in the First Family. "If we have dinner at six instead of seven that night, will that give you enough time, kiddo?"

A partial victory counts, so she nods. "That would work. It would give me plenty of time to be annoyed at my security detail."

"Sounds like a plan." Your mother smirks, relieved to see that none of her children have tried to give their agents the slip yet. She had expected it from June, if she's honest. She's definitely the most independent and the most rebellious.

"Wish we didn't have to have them." She pout slightly, even though she had known this was part of the deal. She hadn't expected it to chafe so much though, if she was honest. She have been very innocent in believing they would just a vague shadow.

"I'd rather have you annoyed by their presence and be safe, than let you go without them and have something happen to any of you." It's non-negotiable, you all know that, and your mother is frankly very glad that it comes with the office. Trying to make sure all three of you are safe without the Secret Service? No way.

"I know." She doesn't have to be happy about it though. "I just— wish the world didn't suck so badly sometimes." She murmurs quietly.

"Here here." Alex nods, knowing that all the different ways the world sucks have affected him in ways the rest of the family hasn't experienced on their own. Everyone may tout their belief in soulmates loudly, but he can't even go out and hold his soulmate's hand without risk. If anything, he's grateful for the Secret Service agents that have been assigned to make sure he stays safe.

"I know that you are disappointed that I haven't been able to push through the soulmate resolution yet." Your mother is addressing Alex, but she shoots him a reassuring look. "But I know that it is close." She looks towards you. "Sam has been a strong voice in the fight to approving the resolution." She praises. "You should be very proud of him."

Mom, you’ve only been in office a month. No one at this table expects you to work miracles.” You steadily ignore the remark about Sam, feeling like your blood pressure is rising a little every time he gets mentioned tonight. “The Resolution is a really good piece of legislation and it’s only a matter of time before it gets passed.” Looking to your brother, though, you offer him the proudest smile you can manage. “And then this pain in the ass can have the White House’s first ever gay wedding. One for the history books.”

Alex snorts and shakes his head. “Hell no.” He huffs. “I don’t want a stuffy White House wedding where I have to invite every dignitary I know. I’ll leave that to you.” He hums with a smirk.

“I’m not getting married anytime soon so what does it matter?” An awful lot of people have been very invested in your future lately and it’s grinding on you to the point where you shoot back a reply without even thinking of it.

Your father’s brow shoots up, surprised at the tone you had used and he glances at your mother, a silent look passing between them.

The silence at the table is ringing, and you put down your wine glass as delicately as you can manage. “What?” You ask, looking around the table but not willing to apologize for being cranky. “I’m not engaged, am I? It could be years before I settle down.”

"Nothing." Your mother shakes her head and smiles at you. "Things will happen in their own time." She councils softly. "You don't have to adhere to anyone's timeline but your own."

“Right.” The best you can do is sit back and have the decency to look a little sheepish, but you can feel the question marks in the eyes of your family members all watching you. It is massively uncomfortable at best.

"Okay." Alex senses something is wrong with you, that you want the subject to change so he claps his hands. "So, I have a question." He recaptures his parents attention. "Do we have to dance at the State dinner?" He asks seriously. "Because you know Dave has two left feet and I can't be embarrassed like that."

“You can dance with your sisters,” your father offers, sensing the same thing as his son. “Or with your mother, or the queen? Or any of the young men there, if you want to end up above the fold of the Washington Post.” It’s purely teasing, of course, since anyone who knows Alex knows he is only in the closet publicly.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs. "Nahhhhhh." He waves away the idea. "I don't want to have to hire a PR manager this early in my life." He jokes. "It would drain my savings."

"I guess we'll all behave ourselves." June observes with a wry smile.

"That would be extremely appreciated." Your mother hums, smiling at all of you. "I know you all have busy schedules, but I am so glad we can still get together."

It's Sunday before the dress arrives at the inn for the State dinner, and you and Sydney were enjoying a rare afternoon off together when Malachi lead the worried-looking White House staffer around to the back porch of the inn to let them hand it over to you in person. Sending them off again with your thanks, you push out a sigh. "I haven't heard from Sam in almost a week," you admit when your best friend fixes you with an inquisitive expression.

"Have you reached out to him?" Sydney asks, frowning as she holds the passion fruit tea she has been obsessed with over the last few days. "He might be embarrassed and unsure of how he will be received?"

"I sent him a text yesterday asking if we were still on for our plans tonight, but...nothing so far." Making plans ahead of time had been a definite strength for the two of you before now. But since Valentine's Day? Communication has been non-existent.

"Have you tried his office?" It's not like Sam to just blow you off, so she wonders if he's been caught up in meetings.

"I—" You blow out another breath. One that feels like defeat. "I'm afraid of calling and having Vanessa pick up," you admit. It feels stupid but you can't help it. "The idea that she could be feeling chatty and say something about Marcus just...I know that's stupid."

"Have you tried to text Marcus?" That's the next question is the most obvious one to take the conversation. If you aren't in contact with Marcus or he hasn't responded to you, that could be why you are feeling like a duck out of water.

"No." That idea makes you shake your head sternly and reach for your drink. The covered porch and little space heater is nice for sitting in the sunniest hours of the day, but you still made yourself a cup of hot coffee to sip while you sat with Sydney. "No...I mean...he probably hates me by now."

"I don't think he would hate you." She's already making an note to have Juan reach out to Pike himself. Maybe take him out for a beer and feel him out on the situation. "You cancelled a causal invite to dinner, you didn't cancel taking him to the State dinner."

"I can't even think about the dinner." Your fingers drum on the box beside you, knowing the dress inside is beautiful but not wanting to face the reality of how uncomfortable the night will be. "If I don't have a date I have to tell my father as soon as possible and I'll get stuck with a million questions and a seat filler."

"Then you need to call Sam." She huffs. "Even if he's fuming at you, I doubt he would miss the State dinner."

"I know, I know, I know you're right." But you don't really want to call him. If it's been almost a week and he's effectively ghosted you? That seems like a pretty clear signal to you.

"Babe....you need closure." The bags under your eyes aren't doing you any good, despite the sleepy time tea that she had been sending to you. "If you are ending things with him, you need to be an adult about it."

"Ugh." You groan, letting your head tip back so the sound drags out dramatically. "Stop making sense and giving good advice, it's interfering with my denial and the reconstruction of my emotional walls."

She laughs, although it's not really funny. She knows where you and it's a shitty place to be. Sighing softly, she picks up your phone and holds it out to you.

"I hate you." Even muttered good naturedly, you still snag your phone from her hand and clutch your coffee mug like a security blanket. Sam's office number is programed into your phone and you squeak with combined fear and frustration as the call connects and begins to ring.

"Congressman Chase's office." Vanessa's voice comes over the line cheerfully and professionally. "How may I be of assistance today?"

Don't be a coward, you remind yourself sternly, as soon as you hear her voice. "Hi Vanessa." Saying your name clearly eliminates any assumption that his staff might recognize your voice, even though you know a few people absolutely do. Some of his staffers like to chat to you while you wait for Sam to come to the phone when you call his office. "Is Sam available?"

Her use of your last name is merely one of respect, choosing to keep things professional with the Congressman's girlfriend. Slightly confused because you are calling for him at the office. "Did he not tell you?" She asks, her voice lower than the usual chipper tone.

"Apparently not." There is no way you're going to fess up that Sam hasn't spoken to you in days, or returned even so much as a text message. Now you're concerned something might be going on.

"The Congressman has been sick all week." She only knows how bad it is because he had spend the first few days trying to work through it. "He has pneumonia." She huffs quietly. "He's been barely reachable but I had though the would have at least let you know."

He's sick. You barely manage to swallow a sigh of relief at that news, and only because you know how inappropriate that would sound to his aide. "I hadn't heard the official diagnosis." It's as smooth a lie as you can muster at the moment, and you cling to your warm mug all the harder. He's sick. That's why he hasn't called. "Thank you, Vanessa."

"Of course." She's confused, but she also knows that the medication the doctor had prescribed him was to help him rest since he had been trying to push himself. "Anytime."

The groan of relief comes only after you disconnect the call, and you deflate into yourself in your chair. "He's sick," you tell Sydney with a groan. The heel of one hand digs into your closed eye like you're trying to banish a headache but it's really just that you feel the pressure releasing from your mind. "He has pneumonia. He's been out since the beginning of the week."

"Okaaaaay." Surprising, but honestly, it's not? Considering it's Sam and he's pretty direct about things. It's one of those traits that Sydney admires about him. "That's a very valid reason for not texting or calling." She admits. "That's a good thing, right?"

"I'm not thrilled that he's sick, but I'm very relieved that he didn't just ghost me. He sleeps like a rock around the clock when he's sick, so he's probably just passed out at home." The one other time you had seen him with a cold was several months ago, and it seemed like he had slept for three days straight before springing back up on his feet like nothing had happened.

"He didn't just ghost you." She grins at you, even though you are still conflicted about Sam, the fact that you are relieved by this means there's something there. "Do you want me to whip him up some chicken noodle soup to drop at his doorstep?"

"Do you want to go upstairs?" When the two of you actually get the chance to cook together it's always fun, and this sounds like the perfect opportunity. You didn't have a dinner plan anyway. Chicken noodle soup for two is easy enough. "I did my grocery shopping this morning so I know I have everything. And..." you pat the dress box beside you. "I should hang this up. I don't think velvet wrinkles but I still don't want to take a chance."

"Absolutely." She sends you a smile, happy that you look relieved and like a weight has been lifted off your chest. "We will have Congressman Chase cured with our famous chicken noodle soup in no time."

Juan had taken the afternoon to go for a ride around the Virginia backroads so it's just you girls right now and that sounds pretty perfect. You gather up your things and nab Agent Bailey, heading upstairs to get to work and try to ease your mind a little. "I do still have a problem," you point out, when the elevator hits the top floor.

"What's that?" Sydney frowns, looking at the screen that shows the floor you are on. She really hates elevators, but this helps her mitigate that fear that the damn thing would plunge into the basement like all those action movies she had watched as a kid.

The doors slide open and you let her out first, stepping up behind her to unlock the door and let the three of you inside. "Now I definitely need to find a new date for the State dinner."

"Oh shit." Sam can't attend the State dinner with pneumonia, it would be too great of a risk. "Well, I can have Juan escort you." She had plans to have dinner with her parents and reveal the name they had chosen, but this was important and she could reschedule.

"Honey, no." She's been excited about the dinner with her parents for a week already and it wouldn't be fair to take Juan away from that. "You guys have family plans and I'm not going to ruin that. I'll just...think of someone else."

"Malachi?" She offers. "He would look good in a tuxedo."

For a split second you get excited about the idea, but you sink again as you readjust the dress box on your hip. "I need him here that night." You tell her, groaning about it. "We have that six-person reservation that needs a translator. Malachi is the only one on staff who speaks Hindi fluently."

"Fuck." The fact is there aren't a lot of men that can just be called up last minute to look good in a suit and be cleared to be in a roomful of the world's top dignitaries. Unless... "I have an idea and you're going to hate it." She promises as you open the door to your apartment. "Give me your phone."

"I trust you with my life but I do not like that tone in your voice." Still, you hand over your phone with confusion on your face and start to unpack the burgundy velvet evening gown that was altered to fit you perfectly. "Please don't call any of my exes."

"I am not calling any of your exes." She promises you, opening the phone with a code and opening your phone book. It's easy to find the number that she is looking for, because you are a stickler for putting numbers in properly and hits call, changing the phone to speaker so you can hear it ring.

The call rings three times before it connects, and even if Sydney hadn't been angling the phone away from you so that you couldn't see the name, you're pulling the dress out of the box when you hear the unmistakable "Hello?" on the other end.

Suddenly you're standing straight up and glaring at your best friend – your former best friend – for this ultimate betrayal. "Marcus." Your voice cracks when you say his name and you just want the floor to open and swallow you up. "Hi. How— how are you?"

"Oh, hi." It's obvious that he's confused as to why you are calling him on a Sunday, but he doesn't hang up the phone. "I'm good, how are you?" He asks politely, actually sounding like he is interested in the answer.

"I..." You sink down on your bed, letting Sydney continue to hold your phone, and hug the dress to your chest. "I'm calling for a couple of reasons," you decide. Now that you've been confronted with this phone call, it all sort of comes tumbling out. "I wanted to apologize, first. For being vague on rescheduling our Indian dinner last weekend, and then taking off like the Wicked Witch was after me when I saw you the other morning. I've...it's been a weird week. And that was rude of me. So I apologize."

“I understand.” Marcus gives a rueful chuckle. “I’ve had a bit of a weird one myself. My phone has been broken three different times in the past week alone.” He snorts. “And half my contacts and messages have been unrecoverable according to the techs at the store.” He sighs. “So if you send me a message or something and I didn’t answer, I promise I wasn’t ignoring you.”

The I told you so look on Syd's face causes you to throw a pillow at her and you shake your head as though he was in the room with you instead of over the phone. "I texted you once about rescheduling dinner,' you admit. "But...I have a slightly different suggestion, if...if you want to hear it? And I would consider it an enormous favor."

It’s on the tip of his tongue to decline, but he is curious to hear what this favor is. “Hit me.” He tells you with a slight chuckle. “But not too hard. I have to work tomorrow.”

"I promise I'm not capable of punching through a cell phone." It's easy to talk to him. So easy. And it lulls you into a momentary false sense of security as you sit back on your bed. "But...I have a plus one to a State dinner for the Spanish royal family on Saturday night and I was wondering if you wanted to come to a party at the White House?" It's such an insane thing to ask a person that you almost feel like it's an out of body experience, but there it is. It's out in the open. There's no taking it back now.

“I-“ Of all the questions he tries to anticipate, that was not it. He frowns slightly, wondering about the congressman, until he remember that Vanessa had said he was sick with pneumonia. It’s likely him being sick has put you into a frenzy to find someone to go. Not the reason he would like to have dinner with you, but he wants to view you as a friend and this will be a friendly, public event. “Sounds like I need to get my tuxedo to the cleaners.”

"Oh my god, you're a lifesaver." The air whooshes out of you all at once and you fall back onto your bed with a gigantic sigh. "I will come and pick you up myself, the food is going to be amazing, and you can rag on me with my pain-in-the-ass siblings all night. I can't say how grateful I am, Marcus. Really. Thank you so much."

“It’s a honor that you even considered me to escort you” Marcus tells you truthfully. “I’ll be exited to go and I promise to keep the ragging to a minimum.”

"You've earned the right, I promise." You blow out another breath and manage to sit up but solidly ignore the smug look on your best friend's face. "I'll text you the details, if that's okay? Is your phone situation all worked out?"

He laughs quietly. “Hopefully so. All I know is that it is never a good idea to set your phone on the roof of the car when the rookie is driving.” Marcus snorts. “If I don’t get a message by tomorrow, I’ll call you. Sound good?”

"Sounds perfect." Quiet for a second, you take your phone out of Sydney's hand and smile, the smallest twitch of the thing in the corners of your mouth. "Thank you, Marcus. I owe you, but I promise we'll have fun."

“Don’t even worry about it.” He promises. “Well, I hope you have a great rest of your weekend, okay?” He asks. “And tell Sam to feel better.”

"I will." Passing that message along might be slightly strained, but it's the thought that counts. Thanking him again, you press the red button on your phone screen to end the call and groan so loudly that Agent Bailey sticks her head into the room just to make sure you didn't hurt yourself. "I can't believe you did that!" You squawk, throwing a second pillow at Sydney. This one hits her square in the shoulder where the first one missed.

“But tell me it wasn’t worth it?” She challenges, throwing the pillow back at you. “You have a date for the State dinner and you learned that he wasn’t ignoring you either.” She folds her arms over her chest and looks at you with a smug smile. “Come on, what other problems do we need to solve? World hunger?”

"Go to Friday night dinner in my place if you want to work on global issues." You snark playfully. The fact is, you know she's right. Annoyingly so, actually, and right now you're still processing.

“Maybe now you will get some sleep.” She huffs, still smug that everything was working out. “You’ve got a dress, a date and I’ll even have one of the wedding stylists that owes me a favor come do your hair and makeup.” She hums. “I made a special dinner for her and her boyfriend for Valentine’s.” She explains.

"What are you, the Romance Fairy?" Dragging yourself off the bed, you carry the dress over to your closet and carefully hang it up where nothing bad could ever touch it. The garment bag that it's in will help make sure of that. "Come on, we have soup to make."

She doesn’t mention that the State dinner isn’t supposed to be romantic. She just grins and follows you. “Yes ma’am, Hummingbird, ma’am.”

"Oh god, don't call me that around him." This, in particular, is an incredibly stern warning. At this point you're just grateful that the Secret Service use your callsign quietly enough that they're not overheard when they say it. "I'll die of embarrassment."

“I won’t.” She promises, aware that you aren’t quite ready to address that particular issue.

“I just don’t even want to think about that.” You don’t want to, but you have been. Rather constantly, which is a growing issue.

“Let’s just get you through the State dinner and your birthday.” Syd suggests. “Then you can let that big brain of yours work overtime on non-issues.”

Throwing Sydney a look of dismay over the last of your coffee, you pout animatedly. “I debated terms of my birthday with my mother at the last dinner.”

“And?” Sydney almost laughs at your look and turns away to start rummaging through your fridge for the ingredients for the soup. “What was negotiated?”

“Cocktail. High end pub, finger foods and a DJ.” You shake your head and huff a sigh. “I said I should just go to a ball game, but that was unacceptable.”

“It’s hard to run security for the president at a stadium.” She reminds you. “And your mom would want to be there.”

“I just…” Looking back at Sydney, you cross your arms and shrug. “I don’t think I have all that much to celebrate this year, I guess.”

“You have a lot to celebrate.” Your friend will always hype you up and she does so now. “You have your health, a successful business with your best friend.” She cheeses playfully at you. “Your mother is the president of the United States and….” She shrugs. “You’ve hit your dirty thirties. We have to celebrate.”

“I can’t exactly have dirty thirties when my mother is the president.” You throw your arms around her again and squeeze her shoulders, grateful for every second you have Sydney by your side. You’ve been each other’s ride or die since first grade and that will never change. “And you’re pregnant, so you already got dirty.”

“I did.” She snorts with a wicked grin. “And I enjoyed every second of it, too.”

“Perv.” You really can’t help but tease her, but it’s purely out of affection. “It’s just because you’ve got your super sexy soulmate. The Triple S is undeniable.”

“He is sexy.” She can’t deny that, grinning wickedly as she rubs her stomach. “And getting sexier. Did I tell you he’s starting to get sympathy cravings? Dad bod mode is close.”

“Your wildest dreams are all about to come true.” The two of you giggle together as you start to pull ingredients out of the fridge, getting started on cooking that batch of soup.

“So, do you feel better now?” Sydney asks, organizing the vegetables and opening the drawer for the carrot peeler. She had helped you set up the kitchen to her specifications so she could easily find what she wanted when she cooked here.

“A little.” It’s relief more than anything, as you start to peel fresh ginger. It’s the secret ingredient to your best ever chicken noodle soup. “And then I feel guilty for it, which is fucked up. Like I think Marcus might actually enjoy himself on Saturday just for the bragging rights and then I immediately feel bad for thinking that.”

“Why do you feel bad?” She cocks her head as she peels the outer layer off the crisp, orange carrots. “I think most people will enjoy themselves just for bragging rights, it’s brag worthy.”

“Promise you won’t judge me and promise you won’t tell anyone. Not even Juan.” Holding your pinky finger out to her is the most solemn promise you can possibly as of your friend, and neither one of you has ever refused it.

“Of course.” Juan knows everything you are comfortable with, but she would never betray your trust like that. She hooks her finger around yours and looks at you for an explanation.

“I…” Glancing around, you see that Agent Bailey has dutifully slipped out of earshot and is sitting on your couch with a crossword book firmly in hand. “I feel guilty because now that it’s set…I can’t help wishing it was a date,” you admit quietly, hanging your head turn.

“It kind of is a date.” Syd admits, looking at you with a sense of regret for teasing you. “A platonic on, but a date nonetheless.” She hums. “Just like you and I have dates. Friend dates.”

“That…regrettably…is not what I mean.” The best you can really do is shrug your shoulders in defeat. “Friend dates are awesome and I will take you on dates for the rest of our lives. But I—I wish this was different than that. And it sucks.”

“You can’t help attraction.” She argues softly, knowing that you will still feel guilty. You are very stern about cheating, and this is veering into emotional territory for you. “He might not- it should just be about the dinner.”

“I know.” Peel ginger. Grate ginger. Try not to think too hard about what Marcus will look like in a tux. “I know. You’re right.”

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs softly. “I shouldn’t have pushed.” She feels guilty, especially now that she knows how you are feeling about this.

“How could you have known? I’ve kept this as firmly to myself as I possibly could.” And keeping things from Sydney is the most impossible task in the world for you. “Besides. He was the right choice.”

“Still doesn’t make me any less sorry.” She huffs, washing the carrots and bringing them over to the chopping board. “I don’t want you to be stressed, I want you to be happy.”

“I’m going to be stressed until I make a decision about what to do.” Once the ginger is done you move on to washing and slicing celery. “And I don’t know how to make that decision.”

Sydney sighs heavily. “I hate that for you.” She admits softly. “If you need to talk, you let me know.”

“What does Juanito think I should do?” You know her well enough to know that she’s talked to her husband — her own soulmate — about this at least a little.

“Juan thinks that you should be happy.” She hums softly. “Whatever that entails. As long as you are fair to everyone.”

"No groundbreaking advice?" If you're honest with yourself, you were kind of hoping for it. Instead, you're definitely floundering.

Sydney stops chopping and points the tip of the knife at you. “You know what he would say, Birdie.”

Ugh. That's true. You do. Juan is unfalteringly trustworthy like that. "That I have to talk to both of them..."

“Even if Marcus isn’t your soulmate, you are attracted to him, and it’s worth seeing if he might be the one you want to be with.” She shrugs, knowing that it’s easy to give advice when she’s found her soulmate and is blissfully happy. “Or it might just say that Sam isn’t the one.”

"Have you noticed a pattern?" Even as you're making the soup, going through effort and putting care into a dish to comfort and heal, a pattern is becoming as obvious as daybreak.

“I have.” She nods and looks back up at you. “Have you noticed that pattern? Or have you just been ignoring it?”

"I think..." A heavy sigh escapes you as you deposit the clean, diced celery in a bowl. "I might have been ignoring it."

“It’s okay to admit that a relationship has run its course.” She reminds you. “Sometimes, things just aren’t meant to be.”

"It's just...no version of this conversation we've had in the last few weeks has ended with the conclusion that I should stay with Sam. And that...that is not how I ever expected things to go. He's such a sweet guy and we've had such a good time." Just as unexpected as this conclusion is the tear that rolls down your cheek, and you brush it away immediately. "It's shitty to break up with someone while they're sick, right?"

“I think you owe him a face to face explanation.” She doesn’t tell you that it’s wrong, if that’s what you want to do. She’ll support whatever you want.

"Shit," you groan, reaching next for an onion. Sydney has trained you to be a dutiful sous chef for so long that now you just do her prep work without thinking. "This is going to suck, isn't it?"

“It doesn’t have to.” She counters. “You said Sam’s reaction was….surprisingly hostile. Maybe he’s had some doubts about the relationship too.”

"If he was hostile about the fact that I was standing my ground, he's either going to be hostile about being broken up with, or just completely silent." Sam doesn't take rejection well, you've seen it in a more professional setting but it will certainly apply here.

“Was he hostile?” She asks seriously. “Or were you both in unknown territory and stubbornly waiting for the other to give in?”

Groaning animatedly, you bump Sydney with your hip at the counter and shake your head. "Sometimes I truly dislike how well you know me. I'm just saying that out loud for the record."

“You know you love me.” She snorted and blows a raspberry at you playfully.

"I do love you." But it garners another groan from you all the same. "This was so much easier when we were kids and our life plan was to live in a castle until we were old enough for a nursing home, and then to be the super weird old ladies on the front porch of the home cursing at people as they walked by."

“We are still on for that.” She jokes, motioning to the apartment. “We are in our castle right now.”

"Technically we can go to an American castle any time we want," you point out. "It comes with the price of visiting my family, but the White House does count as a castle."

“Yes it does.” She agrees, proud to know the first family so well. “But I like our castle better.”

"I love this place." From the first day you set foot inside the inn, you have absolutely adored both working here and even running the place. Living in the caretaker's apartment has been comforting. Like a warm hug on a cold day. "And I love that we get to share it."

“There is no one I would rather do this with.” She tells you honestly, so excited to be able to live out the vague dreams of college now as adults.

"You're gonna make me teary again," you complain, fully teasing her but definitely feeling a little emotional about the whole situation.

“I thought it was my job to be the emotional mess.” Sydney sniffles and moves to wrap her arms around you and squeeze tight.

“Sympathy mood swings.” That makes both of you laugh, there at the counter. “Is that a thing?”

“Why not?” She asks, laughing herself at her husband and best friend having sympathy symptoms of her pregnancy.

“It is now, I guess.” You keep working through the soup prep side by side, getting everything ready in unison. “The thing is…” you hum after you’ve both stopped laughing. “I do care about Sam. And I want him to be happy. I just…don’t think I’m going to be the one to give him the future he wants. Which sucks to realize.”

“It’s better that you realize it now.” She rationalizes. “Less heartache and it’s not like you’re married with kids.”

“And we haven’t started moving in.” That’s an unexpected relief, and the realization that it was moving in together that kicked at your doubt is something you’ll have to grapple with later. “I probably only have a couple of things at his place and the only thing I’ve got of his here is a book I borrowed.”

“And….” She sighs. “Let’s face it, Sam wasn’t happy with you spending all your time at the inn.” She voices. “He rarely wanted to come here, even though he’s the one that can more easily travel.”

“Have you been holding back on me, Badillo?” You raise an eyebrow at her as she works on the chicken. “Hiding the things about Sam that have been bothering you?”

“No.” You don’t seem very surprised. “Just observations that I have made, but I wasn’t sure how you would take them.” She explains. “You were very proud of your relationship with Sam and I didn’t want to influence you unduly.”

"I was." And you can acknowledge that firmly, knowing that the relationship you forged with Sam was based on respect and mutual affection. It does feel like failure to see it ending, but at least you tried. Failure is just a means for new growth, as your mother has always told you.

“I know you look at this as a failure.” She’s known you way too long to think otherwise. “But this was a year long relationship that at the end of the day- you weren’t on the same page.”

“I think it would feel very different if I wasn’t sure it was going to end up talked about in every gossip column from sea to shining sea.” You can’t help but roll your eyes, knowing — and hating — how true it is. Junie isn’t dating and Alex isn’t dating publicly, so all eyes are on you. Especially if you break up with a Congressman.

“Don’t let it bother you.” She urges you. “It’s not like they can say anything bad.”

“Tell that to Princess Diana.” You huff, shaking your head and rolling your shoulders to try to straighten out your head a little. “Okay. New topic. Baby name? I’m dying to know what you guys picked.”

She smiles, rubbing her stomach in that universally happy way all expectant mothers do. “Constance Maria Badillo.” She lights up as she tells you the name they had finally decided on last night.

“Oh, honey.” There’s a measure of delight in your giggle when you light up, finding out those two essential pieces of information all at once. Sydney and Juan had been keeping both under wraps. “It’s a girl? Really?”

“We just found out.” She admits, grinning like a maniac. “Of course, baby Badillo could have just been shy but they are pretty positive she’s a girl.”

"You must be thrilled." Of course Sydney would be happy no matter what the gender as long as the baby is healthy, but you know she's always dreamed about having her little girl.

“Over the moon.” Agreeing happily, she turns back to the chicken. “And Juan and I have talked about it.” It’s a casual beginning. “We want you to be her Godmother, as well as Auntie Birdie.”

"Syd." Your knife gets put down immediately and you turn to her with a look of complete awe on your face. "Are you sure? You don't want to ask your sister? I mean I am honored and one thousand percent here for it."

“No.” She shakes her head and her own tools are set down so she can address this properly. “There is no one that we want more than you.” She explains. “You will always be my choice for godparent.”

"I know I've said it before in our lives, but I am here for anything you need." It's not just for Syd, and you lean down and hum a happy hello to your goddaughter that's growing like crazy. "That goes for you too, kiddo. Hear me? Auntie Birdie's got your back. And your front. And all the other bits of you forever."

“You are going to be her favorite.” Sydney sniffles, her hormones making her cry happy tears. “The one she confides in when she can’t bear to tell me or Juan and I love you for that.”

“I hope so.” Wrapping your best friend up in a hug is exactly what this moment needs, and the sound of two women sniffling takes over your kitchen for just long enough to make both of you break out into giggles. “She’s going to get the best of me and I’m going to tell her about all the stupid bullshit we got into as teenagers.”

“Oh god, you better not.” Sydney groans, rolling her eyes. “Nothing she can throw back in my face when she’s angsty and argumentative.”

“Nothing that will put you in Mom Jail,” you tease with a wink. “Promise.”

“Thank goodness.” She snorts. “This one is already gonna have her daddy wrapped around her finger, so I’m gonna have to be the bad cop.”

“It will go back and forth. One day she’ll do something that makes Juan crazy and you’ll be the arms that she runs to.” It happened in your own house more than once, there’s no reason it won’t happen in hers, too. “It will all turn out. She’s going to have the best parents in the world.”

“I hope so.” She shrugs slightly, aware that they will make mistakes, but hopefully it won’t be too bad to make their daughter hate them.

“You have love,” you remind her with a gentle smile. “Have a little faith, too. If nothing else, we all believe in you. All your friends and your family know you’re going to be great.”

“We will have our little village for Constance.” She agrees. “So when we mess up, we can learn.”

“For Baby Badillo number two,” you tease, beaming at her.

“Juan is already asking how many more I want.” Sydney snort, huffing slightly even if she’s grinning. “Told him that he needed to let me birth this one first before we decided that.”

“One at a time is probably best. For your body and your sanity.” Although, you do raise an eyebrow at her. “Twins don’t run in your family, right?”

“Not that I know of, but Juan thinks some cousins might have twins.” She winces and shakes her head with a laugh. “I’ll kill him.”

"Fingers crossed that you only have to grow one baby at a time." With everything prepped, you move to the sink to wash your knives and fetch your best stock pot from the cabinets. "But I will spoil the hell out of all of them, no matter what."

“I know you will.” She knows what despite your already busy schedule, you will always make time for those that matter most to you. Which is why it’s so telling her that you and Sam have been spending less and less time together over the last few months.

“So…” Flashing Sydney a grin as she starts to cook, you move back to the refrigerator to put things away and to get fresh drinks for both of you. “Two questions, then. First: Have you picked a godfather? And two, if I’m her go mother does that mean I get to throw your baby shower?”

"I'm letting Juan pick out the godfather." She admits, shrugging slightly. "I don't- he's got some ideas, but he hasn't made a final decision yet."

“Most of his friends are fathers already, aren’t they?” The Guy friends that Juan had made in the DC area since moving east after meeting Sydney are all responsible men around his age and most of them have families of their own. It’s a small group, it they’re tight knit.

"Yeah....except that, now, Juan has started thinking that he wants someone that is...." She rolls her eyes, "trained." She huffs and moves over to wash her hands again. "You know how involved he was with beefing up security here, he wants a protector for our little girl in case something happens to us."

“Well…that’s not unreasonable, right?” Spying a can of croissant dough — a cheat you’re very fond of — in your fridge, you grab it and decide to fill them with Nutella and berries for a little dessert pastry. “I mean he’s got friends who are trained. Be able to pick someone.”

"I know." She sighs and turns back to you. "I just hate that he's so practical about it." She admits, biting her lip again. "I don't want to think about us not being here to protect her."

“Then try to think of it like he’s choosing someone who can help her learn to protect herself,” you offer instead. As she grows up and faces new things — whatever those things are — her godfather will have been there to teach her self-confidence and safety in equal measure.”

There's a moment where Sydney thinks about what you said and how it applies to the situation before she huffs out a slightly annoyed, mostly amused laugh. "How do you do that?" She grumbles. "I was ready to be in a tearful pout about that you have to go make it perfectly acceptable." There's no heat to her words and she flashes you a grateful smile. "Thanks."

“We’ve been friends for twenty-five years, Sydney Rose.” The grin you flash back at her in unapologetic. “If I don’t know how to talk you out of a panic by now, I’m more clueless than I thought.”

Pursing her lips at you, she doesn't try to deny it. Instead, she turns to rummage in your spice cabinet. "Do you have that turmeric I left up here last time?"

“It’s behind the huge mason jar of chili seasoning.” You tell her without looking up from your dough-chocolate-and-berry project. “Indian spices are in the back because I fucked up the last time I tried to make curry from scratch and they were taunting me.”

“Poor thing.” Sydney sympathizes and shrugs. “We just need to realize they put something extra in their recipes they won’t tell us.” She hums, talking about your favorite curry from your favorite restaurant that you had cancelled on Marcus going to.

"Some kind of magic that I can't wrap my brain around." There were strawberries in your fridge that you're now set on cleaning and trimming. A crescent roll filled with a dollop of Nutella and a whole strawberry is a thing of beauty. "I should just eat their take out every week for the rest of my life instead of trying to make it."

She smirks at you but doesn’t remind you that you would have had some the other day. It would be too cruel. “How about we order some Sunday?” She suggests. “Decompress from the State dinner?”

“That sounds amazing.” The gratitude you have and have always had for her friendship truly is never ending. “You can tell me all about dinner with your folks and we can get chaotic with each other over curry and Scrabble?”

“Sounds like we are party-ing.”She teases, although she loves it. Low key nights are her favorite.

“And all the sparkling apple cider we can stand.” If she’s going to tease you, you’re going to tease her right back. “By the way, I asked Mom to make sure my birthday has a mocktail so you don’t miss out on the fun.”

“You’re the best, you know that?” She beams at being included and tilts her head. “So how was the family dinner, besides the avoidance of Sam talk?”

“Alex is bringing David to the State dinner. Under wraps, of course.” Syd has known your family so long that she knows every inch of your siblings’ lives as well, just like you know hers. “Junie is learning to negotiate to be able to go to parties, so I know I’ve done my job as her big sister right.

“Your brother should be able to take any fucking body he wants to the State dinner.” She rolls her eyes and huffs, offended on behalf of your younger brother. “If foreign dignitaries don’t like it, fuck ‘em.”

"He can. It's not like the Spanish royals have a 'no gays' policy or something, and gay marriage obviously isn't the issue. It's that he doesn't want to become the center of an unnecessary debate. He is who he is, and I'm so proud of him for making his choices." Glancing over at her, you shrug slightly. "That being said? I get not wanting to be thrown into the spotlight for who you love."

“Of course you do.” It’s kind of a double-edged sword in her opinion, the political spotlight. You could be a darling of the media one day and the scapegoat the next, just depending on how the mercurial whim of the people shifted.

"It's one thing that Sam didn't seem to mind, and I was grateful for that." In no way are you going to start bad mouthing the man just because you've reached the finish line of your relationship. That's not the kind of person you are.

“I know, but I also know that dating a presidential candidate’s daughter during an election isn’t exactly bad press for a politician.” She holds up a hand. “I’m not saying that’s why he dated you, I’m not speaking ill, I’m just stating facts.”

"If he actually wants to be President, he needs to get used to having the Secret Service being around real fast." You snort, shaking your head and knowing that it really has been one thing bothering him pretty constantly. "He hates feeling like his privacy is being invaded."

“It might be because he’s not in control of the detail.” She guesses. “You have the final say on the detail and where they are.”

"Either way, I don't think he'll miss having an agent in his living room." There are plenty of strawberries, so you offer one to Syd and pop a small one in your mouth to savor. "Maybe I just won’t date during my mom’s administration. Maybe that’s the solution.”

“You like having a partner though.” She argues. “And you shouldn’t give up dating because of who your mother is.”

"It might just be less complicated." It's not what you want but it would certainly save you some heartache. "What's the worst that happens? I'm single for the next eight years?"

“Already counting on that re-election?” She teases, bumping your hip playfully.

You huff, swallowing a half-laugh, and bump her back. "More like pondering my worst case scenario."

“Whatever happens, we will be with you.” She promises with a grin.

______

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