#weddings are cute in my eyes but I will never have one of my own ever

[kiingbiing]

-

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Background: (Y/N) Morningstar with her partner, Alastor, has decided to put some of the Overlords in their place.

Warning: Alastor being Alastor, mentions of pregnancy but no one's pregnant, and Alastor might have a breeding kink

_ _ _

"(Y/N)! What a surpri-!"

"I believe that's Princess (Y/N) Morningstar, Heir to the throne of Hell, and Duchess of Chaos - to you," Alastor loved doing this. He adored how (Y/N) had decided to start using her true power, and to bring respect back to her name.

The family name, to be exact.

Valentino chuckled nervously as (Y/N) scoped out the place, her horns ever presenting and tail flicking with annoyance.

"What a pleasure to be hosting you, Princess. What would be the reason for this visit?" Valentino asked, offering her a drink.

"I'm fine, thank you," She dismissed it, already smelling the poison inside the cocktail.

"I'm here to discuss Angel Dust, and your contract with him."

"If he's too much trouble for the hotel, I'll happily-"

"You're the one causing the trouble," Alastor cut him off.

Valentino sputtered, "me?!"

"You can feign innocence all you wish, Val, but I've heard that you've called my sister a bimbo, along with many other colorful names," (Y/N) slowly stood up, leaning over his desk as the lights started to go out - one by one.

"Charlie is nice. She's always been the kinder of us Morningstars, but apparently this makes you think that you can go and soil our name. My father could have strung every sinner on a hook for eternity, torturing you all second by second as your screams sung into our great halls," no one had been unfortunate enough to see the form of (Y/N) Morningstar, and Val was one of them.

Her height expanded to nine feet tall, her pretty black nails forming into claws and her eyes ablaze with scarlet serpent pupils.

And wings - oh great black wings that could make even Adam rethink his attack.

When he was still alive, of course.

"And you sully his gift by mocking us."

"Look, Vox did it first! Okay?! He said you'd never-!" Val tripped on a tentacle that came from her beloved Alastor, who dropped a TV by his feet.

But not just any TV.

"Oh God," Val gasped, "Vox. . .?"

"I took care of him earlier," Alastor grinned, still reminiscent on his screams.

"I couldn't have my dear (Y/N) sully her hands with his filth. But whatever the Princess wants, she gets."

Oh to see her come into her power was as chilling as death itself.

"You're so romantic, Alastor," (Y/N) smiled.

That's when Valentino spotted it. On the left hand of (Y/N) Morningstar was a ruby wedding ring, the band pure gold.

Alastor finally did it.

He climbed up the latter, but not through power.

Well yes, through power, but he certified that it would always be his.

By marrying Lucifers daughter.

"We're matching, isn't it adorable?" Alastor showed off his own wedding band, ruby's encrusted inside of it.

"Now, where were we?" She grinned, and as an engagement gift, the screams of Vox and Valentino were broadcasted throughout all of Hell.

And they say chivalry is dead.

_ ☆ _

"They're fucking crazy."

"They're made for each other."

On that, Angel Dust and Husker could agree.

The lovely couple had become the center of Hells attention after their engagement was announced, and even though Alastor thought it would be hilarious for Lucifer to find out through the papers, she told him first.

And he cried.

"Oh my baby is all grown up!" Lucifer sobbed loudly, clinging onto her legs, "look at you! You-you used to be this small!" Lucifer grabbed a duck, "and you were so tiny and so cute!"

"Am I invited?" Lucifer squeaked, staring up into her eyes.

"Yes, dad," She smiled, bringing him up to his feet, "but we want to wait a bit before we plan anything."

"You know she used to bite my finger?!" Lucifer grabbed the baby pictures of little (Y/N), "look at how small she was! Oh, and this one is my favorite!"

Alastor truly didn't mind how touchy Lucifer had become with him, but thankfully, Lucifer also knew when to stop.

"Wait, is that why you're getting married?! Did you impregnate my daughter?!" Lucifer gasped, shoving his hand on her stomach.

"Dad! Dad, no! I'm not pregnant!" She quickly cleared up.

"Unfortunately," Alastor muttered to himself. Oh to see her belly swell with his children - his own spawn, it made his cock twitch at the thought.

He was fond of children but his own? Oh he'd spoil his little prince or princess with all the blood sacrifices the world had to offer.

"Yeah but you know what marriage entails, kiddo!" He pointed at them both with finger guns, "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby-oh my GOD I'll be a grandpa!"

He started crying again.

She sighed, "at least we know our hypothetical child will be taken care of."

Alastor nodded, "I could not have picked a better father-in-law."

At this point, Lucifer was ugly crying.

Alastor looked at his beloved with a soft gaze as she tried calming her father down. To be honest, Alastor never thought he would ever find solace in Hell. He anticipated every day being a fight for his life, always looking over his shoulder and always striving for more power. And as cheesy as it sounded, he saw (Y/N) as his shining light. She brought out his sad heart, and for the first time in his life, he wished his mother was with him.

To see just what a wonderful woman he managed to catch.

[jacaerysgf]

Unexpected Surprise

Summary: While attempting to gain the support of the vale, jeyne arryn has plans of her own for the prince.

r.q: Everyone forgets house Arryn😔🤘🏻 baddies of the vale Can you write something w Jace and an Arryn maybe lady Jayne’s little sister or daughter or something? Not a totally unreasonable alliance !! They have the coolest castle and knights also Ms Aemma Arryn ™️ like hello!! (I’m impatient as hell for more Vale coverage in season 2)

w.c: 900+

c.w: baela and jacaerys are not betrothed, arryn!reader jenye’s daughter, FLUFF, just a very cute fic, drabble, not proofread

a.n: IVE HAD THIS DONE SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR NO REASON OMGGGG but with the recent jeyne content i felt inspired to write this !! just something super simple <3 HOPE YOU ENJOY !! LOVE UUUU GUYS

masterlist - requests open

“Im sorry, what my lady?”

“I wish for you to marry my daughter.”

This is not how jacaerys thought this would go. When he arrived in the vale he thought he thought he would have to make simple small talk, present some of the benefits, hells even throw some complements her way in order to convince her. This however had not been in his cards.

“I'm sorry my lady i do not understand.”

“My daughter, y/n remains unmarried, around your age, a sweet girl, agree to wed her and me and my men will bend the knee.”

He blinks. He has no clue what to say to her. Jeyne stands after a moment, “I shall go fetch her.” He watches as one of the guards tries to stop her and tells her he will go retrieve the girl but Jeyne seems determined to go herself and he moves letting her leave. Jacaerys stands awkwardly in the middle of the room unsure of what to do.

He is not too sure he can just flat out agree to a proposal without his mother position, it is not like he is a second son, he is the heir to the queen. The next king, his wife to be the next queen. Yet when he sees you walking into the room, wearing a long dress in your house colors with your mother trialing behind with a pleased look on her face he finds himself wanting to agree to the marriage right away.

You are stunning. Easily the most beautiful women he’s ever seen, sure he hasn’t seen that many women but it doesn’t matter. He watches as you bow and mindlessly nods in acknowledgment, unable to take his eyes off you.

Jeyne looks between the two of you with a satisfied look. “Why don’t you show the prince around?” She gives you a pointed look to which you nod, “Of course i would be happy to.”

He walks over and offers you his arm with a smile on his face and you graceful take it before you begin to walk off with him. Jeyne stays behind and smiles to herself.

“My mother is very forward i apologize to you.” He simply shakes his head, he finds himself look at you instead of the halls he’s supposed to be looking at. “It is not an issue my lady, I rather appreciate it.” You look at him curiously but turn away once you notice he is already looking at you. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Many people speak in riddles, not saying what they mean or truly want, your mother is a rare gem.” You smile at the praise of your mother, “She truly is.”

You lead him outside and begin to tell him about the different plants and different sculptures around the courtyards. He is so charmed by you. The way you light up when you spot something and you begin to tell him of a memory you have, like how your mother scolded you for jumping around in the fountain, or when you almost fell out of one of the window's when you fell asleep.

“You truly love this place.” He can tell. The way you smile at the guards as they walk by or the way you know every detail about everything in the walls. But he sees the way you falter slightly at his words, “Am i wrong?”

You shake your head vigorously, “no no i do, its just i have never been away from here. My mother is a very protective woman, she waves away any suitors, she never even lets me leave the eyrie it is ridiculous!” You realize you're letting your emotions show too much and bow your head, “i am sorry that was out of line.”

He grabs your hands and you look at him with wide eyes. “I understand my lady, my mother is similar, i have truly never traveled to far, i wish to explore, once my mother has her rightful throne i believe i will take the time to see westeros a little bit,” He pauses before he speaks again, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, “I could take you with me? if that is what you wish my lady.”

He watches as your eyes begin to glow and you beam at him, “truly? oh nothing would make me happier.” He nods and grips your hands tighter, “I shall take you everywhere.”

He does not expect you to throw your hands around his neck and pull him into a hug. He wraps his hands around your lower back, pushing his head into your neck and breathing in your scent. “I will accept your mothers propsal at once. You will fly with me to winterfell.” You pull back and give him an eager look. “Winterfell? Truly?” He nods, “I am to go meet lord cregan stark.”

You can barely contain your excitement at the thought of seeing something that was not the eyrie, especially a place as grand as winterfell.

Jeyne watched you two smile at one another from a window above with a small smile on her face. She does not hear the guard approaching her from behind, “You seem pleased my lady.” She says nothing to him for a moment, simply continuing to stare at the two of you. “Tell my men to ready themselves for war. It seems he will accept my proposal.”

perm jacaerys taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife

[dante-mightdie]

Wait wait hear me out PLEASE:

What if price found out someone among the followers, was slowly realizing this whole thing wasn’t just a loving community and instead something… more?

at first, one of his trusted guards (maybe gaz or soap) came up to him and mentioned someone lurking around the gates way too often, or maybe they heard someone talking about “ the outside”,

And just the thought of everything falling apart because of an unruly follower, boiled his blood,

So he asks the guard to show him the person trying to ruin the loving community he had made, and when the guard points to the sweetest girl just walking around, with naivety written all over her, he understood that the “threat” he was so worried about was just a cute little thing with too much time on her hands, and the suspicious behavior was just because of her curiosity

His frown instantly changed into his signature smile that made everyone in the community to adore him, and he decided to have a “talk” with her parents about marrying her off to his most devoted man: simon.

Having a family and a husband to take care of would keep her busy enough for her to stay out of trouble.

And the girl’s parents were unbelievably happy about price’s decision, after all as the leader he knows best for each and every one of them, right?

And so the night before the wedding price gives simon a speech about his duty as a husband to make sure his wife wouldn’t cause any problems and his responsibility to payback the community with kids of his own

and that speech just changed something in simon, he knew that price trusted him and he took pride in that, but this? Gifting him a beautiful wife to mold into a loving member of the community? He was filled with emotions he had never felt before

And so during the wedding ceremony poor simon was holding himself back to not just fuck her right then and there, his mind was completely filled with the thought of his wife walking around pregnant with his kids and helping out the other followers with chores and price praising him for creating such a wonderful family.

(Also ps, i LOVE your writing so so much 🙏, you can ignore my request but i would be so very happy if you didn’t 😢)

anon you have summarised everything I have been trying to capture about this AU fucking perfectly

now come and claim your forehead kiss 😙

c/w: cult!au, arranged marriage, traditional gender roles in relationships, if that’s not your thing then go away, nsfw, masturbation, implied virginity loss, breeding kink

he can’t help the relived sigh that leaves his lips when he comes to realises the big bad threat that everyone was so worried about, was nothing more than a sweet girl like you who just needs a few babies and a house to keep her hands full :(

he could’ve gifted you off to kyle or johnny, with their ladykiller smiles and warm eyes but they’ve got time to fulfill their purpose to the community. plenty of years to find a lovely girl and settle down but simon didn’t have that luxury, and he certainly wasn’t trying to achieve it in anyway

he was perfectly content to stay in his home in the near the woods by himself or keeping himself locked up in the armoury all day, cleaning every nook and cranny of the weapons inventory before dragging his feet home to sleep by himself the same way he’s done for the past decade

he knew simon wouldn’t say no, he didn’t really have a choice anyway. besides, what’ll happen if your curiosity gets the better of you and you figure out that everything really isn’t what it seems? john would really hate to make a lovely girl like you disappear :( he can only afford a few loose ends before people start to get suspicious and he really didn’t see a need to waste one of those on a harmless, bored young woman

simon thought he’d hate this more than he does, but he must admit that walking into his bedroom and seeing his new bride kneeling on the edge of the bed waiting eagerly, really did it for him. he has to tell himself not to rip you apart right there, to taste and appreciate you rather than devour you whole

obsessed with the way you squeeze your eyes shut, fingers digging into the sheets when he pushes into you for the first time. a few quiet squeaks leaving your throat as you adjust to the feel. you don’t expect his gaze to be boring directly into yours when you finally let your eyelids flick open

he’ll hold that eye contact when he slowly drags his hips back, only to bury himself all the way to the hilt in one smooth thrust. there’s a tightness in his balls when he watches your mouth form into a little ‘o’ shape after his tip bumps against your cervix

the timidness shared between you doesn’t lessen as time goes on. you fall into a comfortable routine, however. wake up, cook breakfast for your husband, clean whilst he’s at work, have dinner ready when he gets home, wait for him on the bed in your modest nightgown as he showers

it’s like that for a few months until he finally gets the validation he’s been seeking. the way you shuffle up to him, mumbling something about your menstrual cycle being late with warmed cheeks, couldn’t have come sooner. the clap on the back he gets from price is enough to send him spiralling

you pretend to be asleep when you feel your husband’s fingertips dragging over your tummy delicately. you had only just found out but the lack of swell on your pregnancy progress didn’t seem to bother him. he has plenty of time to enjoy your pregnancies pregnancy

and the gradual shift of watching you meekly shuffle around his house, too shy to say a word to him despite him casually spreading your thighs open every night, to a woman that one would comfortably assume was his wife rather than his maid. you’ve begun to make use of all that empty space in his home

he’ll occasionally catch a glimpse of you waddling around, hand resting on the underswell of your belly as you hold a laundry basket on your hip. even though he’s your husband, he had to admit it felt perverted to hide behind a tree, hurriedly jerking his cock to the sight of you hanging his boxers and shirts on the washing line <3

[aikaterini-drag]

A New Chapter PART 1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: You and Rafe decide to try for a baby and that makes him excited and determined… to say the least.

Warnings: minors don’t interact, 18+, p in v sex, extra spicy, a tiny bit of anal play, heavy on breedìng kink and cοckwarming, shameless smut guys.

This belongs to the “Loving You” series. Find it here.

It was a few months ago when you and Rafe had the pregnancy talk. You’d been together for three years and got engaged last year. Your wedding was planned to take place in six months, but you couldn’t resist the idea of testing fate and ditching protection and seeing what happens.

It was Rafe’s innermost wish and fantasy to get you pregnant. Even when you diligently took the pill, he was obsessed with cumming inside you, filling you with his load. Now that you stopped taking the pill and gave him permission to knock you up, he was excited, utterly devoted and determined to make it happen. Sometimes, he would even compete to see with how much of his seed he could fill you up with.

This morning had been wonderful. You’d woken up in Rafe’s arms and spent the day making chocolate pancakes and sharing lazy touches and kisses. But he had to leave soon. He had an urgent meeting to get to, but he couldn’t stop kissing you against the door.

“Rafe, your meeting,” you murmured between kisses.

“Rafe,” you warned again while he dragged his teeth along your chin. Your fingers fumbled to slip on his jacket, you managed to get one arm into the sleeve before he wretched it from your hands and let it drop to the floor.

“Don’t ’Rafe’ me. I just want to kiss my fiancée.”

Hands cupping your face, Rafe didn’t just kiss you, he possessed your lips, his tongue tasting your mouth. You felt the blush spreading over your neck while he pressed the line of his body and backed you up against the door. His thighs cradled you, his hard cock strained through his clothes, poking against your oversized hoodie.

“We… d-don’t have time,” you whispered against his lips, but your protest was weak.

He looked at you, kissing you with his eyes.

Before you could say another word, he lifted you, and you gasped as he carried you to the bedroom, his steps quick and effortless. He tossed you onto the mattress, following you down and pinning you beneath him like a predator about to devour his prey.

“Rafe,” you tried again, but he silenced you with another kiss. “Mhhh… meeting—”

“I have a few minutes,” he drawled against your mouth, his teeth nipping your lower lips. “And I know exactly how to spend them.”

“You insane man—” you smiled because it never took just a few minutes for Rafe to make love to you. But your thoughts faded as his hands roamed your body, peeling away your clothes. Your hoodie came off first, and then your panties, you wore nothing else.

“You know you’re obsessed with this, right?”

He grinned. “It’s my honor, really.”

A deep groan escaped him as he shed his own clothes, baring himself to you shamelessly. At his image, liquid warmth gathered at your pussy. Rafe was a masterpiece of a man, with a broad chest and shoulders, hard nipples, and a virile chest. His hips were narrow, his legs long and muscular. And his cock. Oh, his gorgeous cock. You licked your lips as you reached down to cradle it in your palms. His shaft was hot at touch, thick and hard, curving angrily toward his bellybutton. The cockhead gleamed with a bead of pre-cum that made your mouth water.

Propping a pillow under your hips, he brought you close, bending over you on all fours. Your legs wrapped around him eagerly and he breathed out sharply. He held onto your hips with his calloused large hands, stroking his throbbing cock against your soaking wet pussy.

“There’s my good girl and my cute little pussy.”

“Rafe…” you undulated against him as he rubbed his the head of his dick angst your clit.

“Want something, baby?” he drawled, his shaft teasing you without penetrating.

“Rafe—” you tried to get him inside you, but he pushed your hands away and kept the length of his fat cock draped over your slit.

“Easy. We’ll take it slow,” he breathed against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck.

“Slow?” You exhaled, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I can’t. I can’t do slow.”

“Then tell me exactly what you want.” He closed his lips around your nipple, wetting it, then turned to give the same treatment to the other. “Or should I stop and go to my meeting?”

“Don’t you dare,” you mouthed while he fondled your breasts.

“Say it then. “

He cupped your ass, rubbed the round cheeks lightly before slapping them. You gasped, more wetness seeping from your pussy. You felt empty, and he was edging you when he knew the simplest of his touches made you go crazy with need.

“Baby…” you whined, tracing your hands over his bunching shoulders. “Want your hands all over me, your cock inside me. I want you to put a baby in me.”

“I’ll fuck you pregnant,” he said, his thumbs opening the folds of your pussy and let only his cockhead past the tight resistance. “When we marry, everyone will know you’re carrying my seed. You’re going to look so beautiful in your wedding dress, your belly round, carrying our child.“

“Hm… I want that too, please,” you choked out, shimming your hips, begging desperately to have his perfect cock shoving into you.

In one swift move, the blunt cockhead glided deeper and you tensed all over. Grabbing your inner thighs, he forced them wide apart and marveled at the sight of your little slit being forced open by his dick. Damn, you looked down and let out a long drawn out moan. No matter how many times you did this, he was so big, it seemed impossible that something that thick and long could fit inside you, yet it always did, perfectly.

You were so wet that his cock slid right in, the tip kissing your cervix. It was a tight fit and your walls clenched tightly around him as he brought his thumb back to your clit and rubbed round and round. His ministrations made you see stars, your hands fisting the bedcovers, thighs trembling.

“Mhhh… Full?” he purred against your lips as he allowed you to adjust.

“Hn… so… full.” You met his gaze, your eyes misty.

“So tight and wet,” he gritted. “Pretty pussy is squeezing me so hard, making a mess all over me.”

“Want more,” you whined, locking your heels around him.

But Rafe was in another dimension.

“You’re dripping all over my halls, baby.” His eyes were on you, his dick throbbing inside you while he played with your swollen clit. “Fuck, look at that, so pretty. Let it go, baby, let it go.”

“Hmm… I’m about to— come, Rafe, oh, Rafe, yes, yes...”

One, two three strokes over your poor clit and you closed your eyes, your body thrumming and clenching around him almost painfully. Your orgasm hit wildly, explosively, and you grabbed onto his pecs while you shook and cried out his name. And then he finally started thrusting. His surged powerfully inside you and you trembled with aftershocks, cumming again, so hard that you tried to push him away.

Rafe wouldn’t have it and kept fucking you through your orgasm, devouring your lips, his tongue licking into your mouth while his fingers pinched and circled your nipples. Your whole frame shook from his urgent thrusts, your juices dripping all over him and making a mess of the sheets. It was too much, too good.

Panting furiously, you forked your fingers in his hair, tugging and bringing his mouth to your nipples. A husky growl and he responded, suckling one bud in his warm mouth while circling the other with his thumb. You arched to meet his thrusts, your bodies colliding in perfect rhythm.

A gasp left you when he slapped your butt and flipped you onto your stomach. Meaty hands brought you to your knees as he crawled behind you, his thighs opening you up. Raising your hips, he filled you in one smooth motion and you cried into the mattress, your cheek rubbing against the cotton sheets.

Cupping your hips, he started a primal rhythm, wet slaps echoing in the room. Running his hands from hips to your ass, he drew your cheeks apart, exposing the tiny bud of your asshole and moaning lewdly at the sight of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy.

“So damn beautiful,” he whispered against your ear, nipping your neck.

The sound of his phone ringing broke the moment but he scowled and ignored it.

“Rafe…” the sound of the phone pulled you from your pleasure-filled world. “Must be from work—”

“Fuck the meeting. They can manage without me.” He gathered some of your wetness and rubbed it over your pouting hole. “All you have to worry about is taking my load in your pussy.”

You squirmed from under him. “Hnn… You’re not playing with my pussy right now.”

“I’ll play with whichever part of you I want. I want you to wear that pretty diamond plug in your ass.”

“Later, now fuck me, please,” you whimpered at his powerful fullness filling you and not damn moving. “Move, come on, Rafe!”

The phone finally stopped ringing.

“Is that a promise?” he asked, eyes dark with desire.

“Yes! Do anything you want.” You mewled, blubbering his name repeatedly. “You always make me feel so good. Please, please.”

“I’m at your service, baby.”

Slowly, he slid out, his cock frothing with your wetness.

“Haah…” you clutched the sheets, “yes…”

And then back in. In and out, over and over again, burying himself into the hot, sweet pleasure of your cunt.

Panting and sweating, Rafe rotated his hips, his thrusts turning primal and sloppy. Reaching down, he touched where you were joined, manipulating your folds. He spread your outer lips, working on your clit. You gasped, whimpering and shifting restlessly as he pounded into you while rubbing you senseless.

It was so intense, so overwhelming and you could do nothing but take the pleasure he offered. Licking your dry lips, you rocked against him, sliding back and forth on his fat cock, never missing a beat. Rafe breathed in short sharp gasps, hunched over your body.

“I’m close,” he growled, gently slapping your clit. “Fuck—”

And then came the blinding moment of release.

You climaxed first, convulsing with spasms and Rafe followed, shoving his cock all the way inside, giving loud bellowing moans as he stuffed your pussy full of his seed. You felt the warmth and pressure as he emptied himself inside you, packing you so full while gripping your waist to make sure you stayed there and took it all.

You weren’t sure how much time passed with him bent over you, his forehead pressed to the curve of your neck, lazily kissing your skin. You still shivered with little aftershocks, a pleased smile on your face, your eyes fluttering slowly.

Rafe sighed as he angled his face to kiss your cheek and lips. Craning your head, you responded, opening your mouth to his tongue as he pulled his messy shaft out of you, still hard despite his release. A small whine escaped your throat as he shifted away, his warm hands rubbing your waist and ass.

“No,” he said, watching his seed leak out of you.

You winced a little at the sensation. “It’s too much—”

“Don’t move,” he cupped your ass, keeping you still. “I need every bit of it inside you.”

You couldn’t resist laughing. “Rafe Cameron, you shameless slut.”

“Slut for you and your pussy,” he said, his voice dark and husky.

“Stay,” you murmured, “inside.”

Gently, he set you on your side and spooning you from behind, he impaled you, inch by incredible inch. Air was forced from your lungs at the invasion. He hugged you, one hand fondling your breast, the other guiding your face to kiss you. He kissed you languidly, brushing his lips against yours, rubbing your flat belly as he whispered how pretty you’d look carrying his seed.

“I really really want this to work,” he whispered in between kisses.

“I know, baby,” you smiled against his mouth, stroking his cheek. “I want it too and I love how devoted you are in your mission.”

“I’ll make it happen.” He let his forehead rest against yours. “How are you feeling? I’m sorry for being so intense.”

“I love you for it, Rafe Cameron. And I feel like this time, it worked.”

[oxymorayuri]

❞𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞❝

Headcanons with my favorite boyssss [ Ace | Kid | Law | Doffy ] Wordcount » 1234 (lol no way... you see it? 1234...) Info » just cute things ;3

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Ace: qmech | Kid: skxviii | Law: oyasumi_mofu | Doffy: Hijiki_DaiXt

𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑔𝑎𝑠 𝐷. 𝐴𝑐𝑒

You both get partner tattoos instead of wedding rings but not something lame like a circle around the ring finger rather something small and personal. You have a little flame on the side of your thigh and he has one on his chest that has something to do with you. Maybe you have a devil fruit or a special weapon? It's up to you :p

You never thought you'd cry at your wedding ceremony because Ace let the most beautiful vows EVER leave his lips. His words were typically Ace and in between your tears he made you laugh. You were almost ashamed when it was your turn because you just wanted to repeat a sentence he once said to you but you changed it a bit… "I'm not interested in living a thousand years, it's enough for me to survive today with you." You spoke. Ace recognized the words immediately and remembered the conversation you shared in the past with a broad grin. He almost yanked you to him and kissed your lips even though the priest hadn't even given his blessing yet. But he doesn't care, he doesn't need the priest's blessings when he has you.

He definitely had his own thoughts about the wedding. For example, he has looked into various traditions… but it seems like he got something wrong… Instead of carrying you bridal style over the doorstep, he carried you all day. As soon as you set foot on the floor to get a new drink, he picked you up in his arms. His statement? "Come on love, when will I have the chance to carry you in your wedding dress again?". Okay that's smooth.

𝐸𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝐾𝑖𝑑

Kid probably would never have proposed to you on his own. You've been together for so long now and every time you've seen a married couple your mood has soured. You were annoyed and also disgusted and one day Killer asked you about it and in the conversation you ironically realized that you also wanted to get married lol… when you were with Kid in his workshop you casually mentioned, that you thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to get married as he was working on one of his new creations. He froze at the word marriage and the next second his machine caught fire because he held the welding rod on it for too long. You both panicked and put out the fire and you realized that he found the topic unpleasant and unnecessary, but you are you and you get everything you want, even if you have to force him! Luckily for you, Killer told you that Kid likes the idea of you committing to him forever, but pshht… otherwise Killer will lose his life.

He will send you away if you want to ask him something about the wedding planning or want his opinion. He'll just tell you that you can do whatever you think is necessary (ugh). You think it's a bit of a shame but you don't mind, you just want him to feel comfortable at his own wedding. After all, it's not just yours. But if it were up to him, he would simply put the ring on your finger and seal your marriage with a big smooch on the lips. But later in the evening you notice that he has circled options he likes or left little notes on your wedding plans and that's when you know you're marrying the right one.

he forges your rings and is quite proud of his work, but secretly nags Killer that he is unsure whether you like the rings. When he saw the sparkle in your eyes and heard your words about how much you love the rings, his heart stopped for a moment only to beat extremely fast. He wanted to marry you right on the spot, but he knows how much love you put into the planning. Happy wife happy life lol.

𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝑎𝑤

A grand wedding with everyone (including the straw hats etc.) is planned, but he has other plans and takes you to the most romantic place to have a wedding ceremony just for the two of you. The party can still take place afterwards with everyone, you are a little social butterfly after all, but the wedding ceremony? That's between you and him <3

Law, similar to Ace, would want partner tattoos instead of real rings but rather in an intimate place where only both of you will see it… if you know what I mean ;) It's safe to say he'll shower your tattoo with kisses everytime when you're getting busy.

He has already seen you (without you knowing it) in your wedding dress. He knew exactly what was going on when you waltzed happily past him with a big package... And even if he hesitated for a moment, he followed you discreetly like a pretty good stalker… He peered through the gap of the door to the room you shared. You were apparently so excited that you hadn't even closed the door. He heard you squealing happily in the bathroom and without really realizing it, he held his breath until you came out of the bathroom. And then you stood there in your beautiful white dress. The feeling in his chest increased rapidly as he watched you twirl in front of the mirror like a princess. Your laughter makes him grin… "I guess she's just as happy as I am that we're getting married..." he thought to himself with a satisfied expression as he let go of the door and walked away. He leaves you a little moment for yourself and your joy, he'll see you walking towards him soon anyway. He is pretty sure that he will never forget that moment. The sight of you walking towards him will be engraved in his brain.

𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑜

You want fireworks that paint your faces in the sky? A thousand white doves that are released when you kiss? A 10 meter high chocolate fountain? A wedding in pink? No problem. Your list is long and you get everything you want. Doflamingo will put together the perfect team to fulfill your every wish. Money doesn't matter, but you do.

You get a ring with a gemstone you've never seen before. Even if you express your doubts that you are afraid of losing this precious ring, Doffy reacts almost insulted. You are the rarest and most valuable gemstone in the world. If you lose the ring, he'll have a new one before you know it.

It's going to be a big big wedding BUT not many people are invited because there's a chance of someone ruining it. Whoever is invited is a big figure or part of the family. Everything is secured but not in an oppressive way. It all plays in the background, because if there were security guards everywhere it would ruin your perfect wedding picture. Nobody is allowed to ruin this day for you and him and if they do, they will pay for it. He also has the wedding broadcast live on TV so that everyone can see that he's marrying the most beautiful woman in the world. How extra.

Masterlist

I hope you enjoyed reading it. See you next time <3

𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒖𝒓𝒊 ♡

[nickfowlerrr]

i never thought you’d happen to me - 1

part two / part three

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut (part two), fluff, bit of angst. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. some morally dubious homemade porn viewing 💀 (part two). if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!

words: just a bit over 6k.

notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card.

fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think! 🥰

It’s another late Friday night as you and the team lounge around the common room, nearly empty takeout containers scattered around the table, glasses and bottles of your drinks much the same. There’s a movie no one is watching playing on the large screen as the current conversation around you continues.

You’re not sure how telling a story from your last mission with Bucky has turned into this once again, but here you are. Another cute remark from Sam about his expectancy to be in the wedding party earns him another glare from you.

“Hey, you side-eye now but in ten years you’ll look back and realize how right we all were,” he says, elbowing Bucky slightly. “Tinman by your side,” he adds with a grin - clearly amused with himself.

“That is not my future,” you say with a humorless chortle.

“I can show you your future,” Wanda speaks from her spot on the couch, everyone turning their heads at once to look at her. She’s been unusually quiet the past few minutes - not engaging much in the conversation as she observed it instead. She takes another sip of her wine as she meets your gaze, foot swinging lazily as she keeps one leg crossed over the other.

She tilts her head at you while you eye her with a raised brow, a look of incredulity on your face.

“What?” she questions, confused at not only yours, but everyone’s, lack of response.

“Come on,” you laugh lightly, brushing her off.

“I’m serious.”

“Wanda, I don’t need to see what my future looks like to know that Bucky will be playing no part in it.”

A round of scoffs, snickers and a groan erupt from around the living room as you roll your eyes. You catch Bucky, seated across from you, doing the same as you turn your face.

“You’re all very funny, and I’m glad you’re amused with yourselves, but I can’t sit here and listen to the same inane conversation over again, soooo,” you pause for a breath, “I’m going to bed,” you clap as you stand from your spot on the couch.

“Look, I don’t speak for everyone, but I am not joking in the slightest,” Kate laughs as she leans back into her seat. Aiming finger guns at you and Bucky, “You guys,” she says, “are endgame.”

“And you, my friend, are drunk.”

Another round of laughs before the previous chatter resumes among the group, a story of misadventure now being told from Parker’s perspective, and you can hear Stark’s interjections already.

You grab your empty glass and head to the kitchen, Wanda following shortly after you.

“You’re stubborn,” she says with no preamble.

You turn with a quirked brow, “Am I?”

“Very. So much so, I think I may need your permission.”

“Sorry...uhm, for?” you ask, clearly confused.

“I think you should see it.” Your face falls slack at her words as you turn back to finish washing out your glass.

“Wanda, -” you go to laugh again.

“No, actually,” she stops you, correcting herself, “you need to see it. You’re stunting yourself. You’re constantly getting in your own way. I think it’d be good for you, to see what you can have if you finally allow it to come to you.”

You're quieted by her sincerity for a moment, half because you weren’t taking any of the previous conversation seriously, and half because you didn’t think it was something she was actually capable of doing. In fact, you still didn’t. But if she wanted to try, who were you to argue.

“Uhhh,” you begin, shaking your head lightly, “I mean, if you really want to, then, go for it, I guess. You have my permission.”

“Good,” she smiles, turning to walk back out to the other’s.

“Wow, wait,” you stop her, “like, what exactly are you gonna do?”

“Just a swap,” she says simply. “A day in the life of your future self. You don’t have to do anything, just go to sleep tonight and you’ll see.”

Your eyes narrow in thought, “...This isn’t dangerous, right?”

“No, not at all. You guys will be fine. 24 hours and you’ll wake up in your own beds, safe and sound. I promise.”

She smiles and flits away quickly. You shake your head at yourself again, still unsure what exactly you’ve agreed to. And it isn’t until you’re walking down the hallway back to your room that what she said actually catches up to you.

You guys will be fine?

You stop walking when you hear footsteps behind you, glancing back to find Bucky coming down the hall. You swallow hard and turn back around, not far from your door.

“Stalker much?” you say without facing him, earning a scoff in return.

He’s barely a step behind you now, though his sudden proximity is not all that surprising. You’ve grown used to his stealth.

“In your dreams.”

“More like waking nightmares. Every time I turn around it’s like you’re always just right there.”

“Maybe if you didn’t put yourself into jeopardy every five minutes I wouldn’t have to shadow you so often.”

You’re walking side by side and you get to your door as he speaks. You turn on him, instantly irritated.

“Are you being serious?” you level at him. He doesn’t respond. “How are you still hung up on Belarus? It was one mission. That was not on me, I didn’t fuck up. No one else saw them coming, either,”

“I did.”

“Well, sorry I’m not as infallible as the one and only Bucky Barnes,” you speak exaggeratedly, annoyance clear in your tone. “You still act like I’m some kind of liability. I’ve been careful. I’m riding a lengthy no injury streak and we’ve still yet to fail a single mission. After how many assignments we’ve been on together, you think you’d start taking me more seriously.”

“I never said I didn’t take you seriously. Just think sometimes you’re still a little too cocky for your own good.”

“For the thousandth time, I’m not clueless, Barnes. I don’t need you monitoring my every move. Not during training, not on missions, and definitely not walking down a hallway at night. I think I can handle getting to my room alone. Or is assuming that too cocky of me?” you ask with a tilt of your head, sarcasm dripping off your tongue.

You don’t wait for a response before you turn to your door and let yourself in, snapping it shut behind you.

You flick on the light and are quickly greeted by a room that is… definitely not yours. You pause for a second, taking in your surroundings before you deflate with a sigh, following it up with a deep breath. You turn the light back off and then turn back around to the door. You wait for a second longer with your hand on the handle before you force yourself to exit the room.

Just like you knew he would be, Bucky is still standing right where you left him; a stupid smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

“Wrong room,” he says.

“Fuck off,” you grumble as you walk a little further down the hall, to your actual door.

“Goodnight to you, too,” Bucky says as he continues to his own room, not far from you. You send him a glare and a “hmph” before shutting your door and getting ready for bed.

You’re not helpless. You’re not clueless. You’re damn good at what you do. But fuck if Bucky doesn’t have a knack for knocking you off kilter with a single look.

—-

It’s a soft shaking that wakes you from your peaceful sleep. You’re so comfortable, you don’t want to move - you don’t even want to blink open your eyes. But the shaking comes again. Your brows furrow as your arms tighten around your pillow and you cuddle further into it.

Only it’s not your pillow.

It takes a second for you to process that instead, it’s a warm body you’re pressing yourself against before your eyes snap open.

You look up and find a confused Bucky staring down at you.

When your eyes meet, though, there’s a bit of softness there. And as you take in his face, you relax a bit again. His presence beside you is at once comforting as it is confounding.

“What are you doing?” you both ask at the same time - only furthering your confusion.

You suddenly realize you’re still wrapped around him and quickly sit up and give him space.

“Why are you in my bed?” you ask as you rub your eyes with the palms of your hands.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” he says as he looks around, “but I don’t think we’re at the tower.”

You look up and blink away the fuzziness. Then it hits you.

“Oh shit,” you murmur.

“What? You know where we are?” he asks as he stands and starts looking around, inspecting the room. “Better yet, how the hell we got here?”

“Maybe…Would you believe me if I said we might possibly be in the future?”

Bucky turns and looks at you incredulously.

“Wanda,” you speak at the same time.

“For fuck’s sake,” he says as he runs a hand over his face.

“In my defense,” you begin, “when I agreed to this, I didn’t think she’d be able to do it. I also didn’t think it’d involve anyone else..”

“What do you mean you agreed to this? What is this?”

“She said I needed to see the future. It’d be good for me, or whatever, so I said okay. She said it was uh, a future swap? 24 hours. Day in the life and then I’d wake up back in my own bed the next day.”

“And you agreed to it?”

“Fuckin’, yeah, obviously,” you huff. “I didn’t think it’d be.. Real? I don’t know.”

“So, so what? We’re stuck in some unknown future for the next 24 hours?”

“What part of ‘I don’t know’ do you not understand?”

“Why would you agree to something like this without fully knowing what it is you’re agreeing to? This is exactly what I’m talking about when I say-”

“Spare me, Barnes. It’s Wanda, okay? We’re fine. It’s 24 hours, and I’m assuming that clock started when we fell asleep last night, so really it’s only…,” your voice dies down as you look to the clock on the bedside table. The time isn’t what catches your eye, though.

No.

It’s the framed photo behind it that derails your train of thought.

“No fucking way,” you breathe as you grab it in disbelief.

You stare at the photo of you and Bucky, a close up of you in a sweet embrace, adorning soft smiles as you share a chaste kiss, your left hand touching his cheek, and what you can only assume is a wedding ring sitting pretty on your finger.

This has to be some kind of dream. That’s it. You’re dreaming. Duh. Your hand moves before your mind does and you slap yourself in your face as hard as you can manage, sure it’ll wake you up and you’ll be back in the tower, in your own bed, alone.

“What the fuck?!” Bucky exclaims in surprise as you wince slightly and hold your cheek as it stings. He walks over to you, becoming more tentative as you look up at him.

“‘M not dreaming. Are you?”

“No, I’m wide awake, believe me,” he says as he gets closer. “Don’t slap me, either.”

You eye him harshly before handing him the frame.

“Well, it.. Explains why you’re here, at least,” you say, voice quieter than you intended as your thoughts were still reeling. “We’re not just in my future, we’re in-”

“Our future,” he finishes as he stares at the photo himself.

“Yeah.”

“So, our room…” he says more to himself than to you. He makes his way around the room, pulling open drawers and looking in the closet as you stand and head for the bathroom.

You meet yourself in the mirror, sure enough, you still look the same. You’re you.

Walking back out into the room, you head for the window, pulling back the curtain. As you peer out, you’re expecting to see a skyline, or city street, but instead you’re met with the view of an open yard.

You pull away from the window in surprise, “Are we in a house?”

You turn to Bucky, who turns to face you. You both head to the bedroom door, you following behind him as he takes the lead.

It’s a house. Definitely a house.

The bedroom door leads to a long hallway, three doors along the right back wall, another door at the far end opposite your own, and to the left of that, on the left wall, is another room.

In the middle of the hallway is an opening, and you and Bucky turn there without inspecting any of the other rooms.

You find yourselves in a living room, before walking into the kitchen.

“We should look around,” you say in a whisper - why, you aren’t sure.

“What exactly are you planning on finding?” he questions as you pull open a drawer, sifting around.

“I don’t know? More information. Like what we’re doing here. What we do. What year it is. Maybe we learn something and it’ll send us home sooner? I don’t know, just, something,” you answer, on edge already by being surrounded by the unknown and only growing more agitated at his every word.

“Why are you getting mad at me?”

“I’m not getting-,” you stop yourself, taking a breath, “sorry. Okay? I thought you were trying to be a dick,”

“Why do you assume I’m being a dick?” he asks, annoyed himself now.

"Because you always act like a fucking dick!", you nearly yell as you slam the kitchen drawer shut.

"Fucking dick!"

You both freeze at the high, sweet-sounding voice that comes from behind you. Your brows furrow as you glance at Bucky, his reaction to the mirthful echo much the same as yours, before you both slowly turn around.

The sight you're met with has you both frozen in shock.

A set of twin toddlers clad in matching pajamas, both of whom bear a striking resemblance to you and Bucky, are staring at you both.

You can't explain why, but your heart is gripped by the mere sight of them. It's something more than just their cuteness, it's something instinctual. How it's possible, you're not sure, but you know, somehow, that they're really yours. Future or not, those are absolutely your kids.

It seems with each passing moment, you and Bucky are left more and more stunned by how your future is turning out, but as you notice the little boy's eyes watering and the pout on his little lips as he looks right at you, you can't seem to care about anything else.

“Hey, buddy,” you squat down and hold your arms open for him, and he waddles to you right away as his eyes well more and more. He hugs you, still pouting as he cuddles into your chest and you hold him tightly as you stand, exchanging another glance with Bucky who looks nearly stupefied until the soft voice of the girl rings out once again.

Your eyes shoot to her as she twirls around clumsily, a chant of "fucking dick" leaving her lips over and over before she starts to tilt, seemingly having made herself dizzy. You're about to gasp, moving forward instinctually as you watch her wobble a bit more, but she's in Bucky's arms in an instant as he grabs her before she falls.

"Woah, there, sweetheart," he says with a small laugh as she dramatically goes limp in his arms. An exhausted breath leaves her little lungs as she breathes out the repetition one final time. She then lifts her tiny hand up to Bucky’s cheek, effectively slapping him as she plants it, blinking up at him. “What’s this?” she asks him curiously as she smooshes his face, feeling his stubble.

“Uhh…It’s hair. I haven’t shaved - Ow,” he exaggerates when she interrupts him and pats his cheek again, a bit harder this time, though you know it didn’t hurt him in the slightest. It makes the girl laugh, though.

“You should shave, Daddy,” she advises, pulling a face.

Her words pull a breathless laugh from him as he gazes down at the small girl, a lump forming in his throat as he takes everything in. He feels crazy, but he can see you in her, and he can see himself, too. Her and her brother, they both look like the perfect little combinations of the two of you. And they’re both so comfortable with you guys. So at ease and uninhibited, just like children should be..

It’s a stark contrast to how he grew up and he can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment, of pride, knowing that he isn’t repeating the cycle he swore would die with him.

He’d stopped letting his mind wander to what if futures long ago, but when he did imagine what it’d be like to have a family of his own, this is the kind of peace he longed for. The happy, settled down future he was sure he’d never have.

And you.

Your hand has been mindlessly rubbing the boy's back in an effort to comfort him as he cuddles into you, that never faltering pout pulling every string your heart has as Bucky attends to the girl relaxing in his arms.

"Linc's sad, Mommy," the girl says, pointing at her brother. The title has you swallowing hard, your heart clenching at how sweetly she calls to you.

Linc?... Must've been Bucky, you think briefly before you gently pull him away from you slightly so you can see him better, his bleary blue eyes peering up at you.

"Why are you yelling at Daddy?" he pouts still. Your brows furrow and mouth parts on an inhale, as if you're going to answer him, but nothing comes out as you try and think of what you can say. His innocent question stumping you.

"It's alright, pal, we were just kiddin' around," Bucky offers as he gets closer to you both. You look at him, a bit guilty but thankful for the save.

"Can we have pancakes, Daddy?" the girl asks as she wriggles around like a worm in his hold.

"Pancakes! Please!" Linc smiles as he continues hanging onto you, seemingly happy with Bucky's defense of you - any qualms he had long forgotten as he’s now focused on the mention of pancakes for breakfast.

"Sure," you answer for him, acquiescing easily with a smile before looking to Bucky with wide eyes.

You’re not entirely sure how exactly this all happens, but somehow you end up married with two kids. As shocking as it is, and as confused as you are about how, a part of you is grateful - maybe even happy - that Bucky is here. He may be an ass a lot of the time, overbearing and micromanaging your every move, but you guys have been through hell and back together. Partners from the very start of your time as an Avenger. If you’re being honest, this future makes more sense than you previously wanted to admit.

In an attempt to not freak out the twins, you know you have to play the part. Act like nothing is out of the ordinary and that you are indeed their mom. You are, technically, but you don’t have any idea what the hell you’re doing or what’s wholly needed of you. You’ve nannyed before, though. You know the basics..

"Have we brushed our teeth yet?" you ask the twins, sure the answer is a "no". Your and Bucky's arguing clearly is what woke them up, the yelling must have led them out here from their room.. Rooms?

"Mhm," the girl hums, though just from looking at her, the lie is evident as she avoids looking directly at you.

"Don't lie, Ellie," her brother chastises.

Ellie.. That must've been me, you think with a twitch of a smile before you set Linc down.

"Alright, go with Buc- your dad, and I'll start on the pancakes," you instruct before the twins burst out in giggles. You frown, brows furrowing as you watch them, hoping they'll let you know what exactly is so funny.

"No, we want daddy's pancakes, Mommy!"

"With chocolate chips and syrup!"

"Yeah, they want Daddy's pancakes, Mommy," Bucky taunts with a smirk as you shoot him an annoyed look. He seems a lot more comfortable now than he was a few minutes ago, and you can’t help but notice how easily he seems to be taking this; easing into his role in this place and time. He’s good.

"What's wrong with my pancakes?" you press the toddlers.

"Daddy's are better, but it's okay, your grilled cheese is the best,"

"Yeah! Oh, can we have grilled cheese for lunch, Mommy? Please, please, pleeease," Ellie begs cutely, leaning to you while still in Bucky's hold.

You huff a laugh, agreeing as Bucky sets Ellie down to follow you.

"See if you can find anything," you tell him as you meet his eye before following after the tikes pulling on your hands.

"Don't forget the chocolate, Daddy!"

Bucky watches as you're led to the bathroom before he starts moving around the kitchen. He's about to start looking around for more information on when exactly you are, and the kind of life you’re living, but thinks better of it for now. He'd rather not have two toddlers throw a fit over unfinished pancakes on top of everything else he's trying to wrap his head around at the moment.

He finds the pantry and grabs all the ingredients he needs for his mom's pancake recipe - the one he knows by heart- and gets to work on the batter. The chatter from the kids and you in the bathroom floats into the kitchen and he can’t help but smile at the sound of your voice as you talk to them.

He soon loses himself in the simplicity of the task at hand, and how nice it is to be here like this. He's in pajamas on a Saturday morning, making breakfast for his family as they start their day..

Seems entirely unreal, but a dream nonetheless. And as if that wasn’t enough to have his thoughts in a flurry, he still can't shake the feeling of how nice it was waking up with your soft body pressed against his. Opening his eyes to discover the warmth beside him was you. He was confused at first, wondering when and how you’d gotten into his room, but more so concerned about the why. He watched you for a minute before he noticed the bedding draped over the both of you. It wasn’t his and when he looked around the room, he realized he had no idea where you guys were. You were wrapped around him as you laid together in the comfy king bed, and it took him a second to try to wake you up. He knew he had to, of course, but if he was honest, he didn’t want the feeling to end. Your hold on him was comforting and he was completely at ease in your embrace, circumstances be damned. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in ages.

Though, that wasn’t entirely true. He remembers the last time he felt that way, and of course it was with you. You were stuck in a shoddy motel off the highway during a storm, the crappy jeep you’d been traveling in finally gave out half way through your drive back to the compound and you guys had no choice but to crash for the night. Of course the motel only had one singular room available with one singular bed. After some back and forth, you both decided you’d just share. It was big enough for the two of you, with space in between. When Bucky woke up that next morning, though, he found himself holding you tightly from behind, your arms wrapped over his as you slept peacefully in his embrace. He remembers the heat that crept up his neck and the flurry in his stomach that he still refuses to acknowledge as butterflies. He quickly loosened his hold and slipped away from you before you could even bat an eye. You were still none the wiser. He thought about that morning a lot after it happened.

He wondered what would’ve happened if you had woken up, too. What you would’ve said, what he could’ve said to you if he’d finally gotten out of his own way..

He can’t dwell on it anymore, though. He hasn’t. He won’t.

Except maybe he does.

And seeing as this is your future together, he thinks maybe that’s not as hopelessly embarrassing as he’s made himself believe it is.

And god, the sight of those kids. The warmth that bloomed in his chest as he took in their faces, he honestly was worried he would start crying if he stared too long. He had long given up on the idea of starting a family, he didn't think this life would ever be in the cards for him, and especially not with you.

But as he stood pouring chocolate chip pancake batter into a sizzling pan, he was struck by how right it felt.

Obviously, it wasn't right, neither of you should be here right now, and it made him wonder where exactly the future you and him were.

As soon as the thought went through his head, a tablet he hadn’t taken notice of on the back counter dinged.

He flipped the pancakes before he went to get the pad, taking the tablet in his hands. His face unlocked the device easily and opened up to his email account.

He clicked on the new, unread message from.. you?

—-

Hey Bucky.

Wanda says this is unnecessary but if I know me, I’m still probably freaking out internally. So, just letting you know that everything's fine. Or so she says.

We're gonna be back to our respective places in time come tomorrow.

I know waking up in the future - especially our future - may be hard to wrap your heads around, but it’s a hell of a lot better than waking up alone to a preening Wanda staring at you, trust me.

And you guys aren’t as oblivious as you try to be. You know, deep down, exactly why you’re there. Together. - and why it isn’t all that crazy.

And this goes without saying, but obviously, take care of the kids. Eleanor and Lincoln. If you haven’t found them yet, they’ll find you, I’m sure.

Today at 2pm, you need to drop them off at 7314 Wisteria Drive. That's Steve and Nat's house - so don't make it weird. They're keeping the kids so we can celebrate our anniversary.

Funny how that lines up..

So, anyway, apparently all we need to do on both ends is enjoy the 24 hour downtime. We’ll be waking up in our own beds before we know it.

Okay.

Bye.

(I’d say I love you but I don’t wanna freak you out. x)

—

Bucky just stares down at the email blankly while his brain tries to catch up. He's gonna have to have you read it yourself. Before he can fixate on that last line in particular, he can smell the browning of the pancakes.

His attention quickly returns to the food as he starts to plate it, shutting off the burner. The kiddie plates he finds in a cabinet earn a half smile from him as he cuts up the pancakes for the kids and spots their booster seats, placing the plates before them.

He hears them before he sees them as they come down the hallway, all laughs.

You appear just after they do, a look on your face he can't turn away from. Your soft smile and the adoration swimming in your eyes as you watch your kids, both of them waiting to be lifted up to sit down, is.. beautiful.

He catches himself staring before he turns his focus back to the table, lifting Eleanor into her seat before lifting Lincoln in his, earning a "thank you, daddy," from each of them in return, a wave of astonishment and pride coming over him yet again. He’s not sure if he’ll ever get used to that.

You listen as they talk back and forth about their pancakes and their laughter when they start playing with one another as they eat their lightly syruped bites.

You stand by Bucky, absentmindedly grabbing a pancake and biting into it, stopping almost immediately as the fluffiness catches you off guard. God, they were so right. These are amazing.

"Good, right?" Bucky's voice pulls you back as you swallow your bite.

You lick your lip before looking over at him. "Did you find anything?"

He hands you the tablet and watches as you read the email.

You click your tongue, and then stay silent for a minute.

He almost can’t believe it when you do it, looking at you incredulously once again after you suddenly slap yourself in the face once more.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he bites quietly, moving to stand in front of you and blocking your view of the kids momentarily.

"Just had to make sure," you reply, again cringing at the stinging of your cheek. You eye him before making a move to slap him, too, but he grabs your hand before you can make contact. He looks at you like you're insane as you huff again. "So this is..."

"This is real," he finishes for you. "That hard to believe, huh?"

"That's an understatement. So, I’m not dreaming. But are you sure you’re not dreaming?"

“You think my dreams involve waking up in the future with no memory of what’s gone on between me going to sleep to waking up? That’s a literal nightmare for me. Plus, I learned a while ago how to differentiate between my dreams and reality. Trust me, we’re not dreaming.”

You swallow thickly, an apology on the tip of your tongue. You hadn’t considered that before. Before you can voice your thoughts, though, you're distracted by the interaction between the kids at the table.

"Linc, I'll give you a piece and then you give me one of your piece, okay?"

"You take this one," Linc says as he gives his sister a piece off of his plate and she gives him a piece off of her's.

You can't help but chuckle at the exchange.

"We make cute kids, though," Bucky says, almost under his breath. But you still hear him, and you respond before your brain catches your tongue.

"Yeah, we do."

You push off the counter as Bucky watches you, surprised that you heard him and even more so by your agreement, though it'd be impossible for anyone to argue that your kids aren’t, in fact, ridiculously adorable.

"Do you guys want -"

"Orange juice, please!" Ellie answers before you even finish asking.

"And water, please," Linc follows.

"OJ and water, you got it."

----

You and Bucky get the kids ready to go to Steve and Nat's with minimal arguing... until you had to pack their bags.

What they should or shouldn't take with them was a point of contention as you ridiculed each other's choices. After your bickering and some input from Ellie and Linc, you guys just hoped they had everything they needed. You'd unnecessarily packed them three outfits each just in case of spills or messes and their diaper bag was loaded full, too. Maybe too much for one day, but better safe than sorry, right?

After loading the twins in the car, Bucky followed the GPS to the address you'd left in the email.

When you guys pulled up to the house, you were greeted by Natasha who was unloading groceries from her car. The domestic scene warmed your heart. She deserved the simplicity, the normalcy, and you were happy to know that one day, she’d have it.

She lit up as she saw you guys approaching and came right over, going straight for the back door.

Linc and Ellie were all smiles and giggles as they tried fruitlessly to escape their car seats in favor of being in Nat's arms.

"Bugs!!" Nat greeted them with an enthusiastic smile as she started working on their belts. "I've missed you guys so much! How long has it been? Ten years?"

They laughed in unison at her before Ellie corrected her. "Yesterday, Aunt Nattie!"

"Yesterday?" she questioned in faux disbelief.

She wasn't able to keep up the play, though as the second they were out of their seats, they nearly tackled her.

You watched Steve come outside, coming up to the car with a grin, a girl no more than ten and another toddler, maybe a little older than the twins, in tow.

"Get them inside for me, honey," Nat said to the oldest one. She looked nothing like either of them, dark hair and dark eyes, but still it was clear she was their daughter. The younger one looked like Steve, though, and you wonder briefly if that was just by chance or if they’d had a surrogate. Natasha had talked about the possibility before, and of adopting, but starting a family wasn’t something any of you were actually considering at the time, settling down and having kids wasn't really your focus when you were all trying to make sure the world wouldn’t be ending tomorrow. "We'll be right in. And pick a movie for the sleepover before your Dad does," she pretended to whisper, earning a laugh from the girl as she corralled the kids up the porch.

Nat turned her gaze back on you and Bucky, her stare nothing less than scrutinizing.

"Are you guys in pajamas?" she asked with a raised brow.

"Mh, uh, yeah," you laughed a little breathlessly before looking back at the house, distracted. "They didn't even say bye," you said in your disappointment. You'd only just met the kids, but you felt so instantly connected to them.

"Don't worry about them, they're gonna have fun tonight. And so are you two," she says pointedly, if not a bit suggestively, pulling you from your thoughts. You feel the heat that creeps up your skin and refuse to look at Bucky.

"What are you guys doin' tonight, did you decide?" Steve asks.

"Staying in," Bucky blurts out as you blink and smile. But their faces at that, their smirks of acknowledgement make you grow hotter as you try to not let your embarrassment show.

"Mhm," you hum tight lipped.

It's quiet for a moment as you all watch one another before Steve breaks the silence.

"You guys are acting weird."

"Are we?" you question back too quickly.

"Yeah. You are," Nat says.

"Sugar," Bucky blurts out again. "They're loaded up on sugar. Sorry, they really wanted pancakes this morning. But uh, look, thanks for watching them. We should uh, get going, so.."

"Yeah, we should go," you agree. "What time do you want us to pick them up?"

"We're dropping them off tomorrow afternoon, right?" Steve questioned. "Or did you not want them to go with us?"

"No, oh, right. Duh! I just forgot - that's what we talked about. Because you're taking them to.." you trail off, prompting them.

"The gardens?" Nat finishes.

"Right, yes, the gardens. Which is great. And we appreciate it so much. And if you need anything or anything happens, ya know just call us," you continue on as Bucky starts to pull away. You fight the urge you have to glare at him until you finish your awkward goodbye and Steve and Nat watch you both drive off, clearly confused about the weird interaction.

"Did you miss the part of the email where it explicitly said: don't make it weird?" Bucky asks.

"Fuck off, you were no better," you scowl as you slump in the seat. "What now?"

[daisynik7]

[F4M] You Leave a Naughty Voicemail for Your Husband While He Works Overtime [Established Relationship][Mutual Masturbation][Car Sex][Sub to Soft Dom][Breeding Kink][Mating Press][No Thoughts][Brain Empty][Just Fucking]

Read Part 1 here!

Pairing: husband!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.6k

cw: established relationship, p*rn without plot, smut –  PIV sex (cowgirl, missionary, mating press, doggy), mutual masturbation, mentions of sex toys, edging, blowjob, car sex, clitoral stimulation, spanking, some spit play, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, honey, princess, baby, good girl/boy), slight degradation kink

Summary: You record a naughty voicemail for your husband while he works overtime, leaving him yearning for more. Author’s Note: Hiya friends! Breaking my tumblr hiatus temporarily to post this. Consider this a sequel/part 2 to my other fic inspired by more NSFW audio. Someone gave me the idea to do a fic with the roles reversed, so here it is! Had a blast writing this, so I hope you enjoy! Bonus: here are some NSFW audios that inspired it (of course, they’re AugustInTheWinter): Link 1, Link 2 (reddit links, 18+). Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated, thanks so much for reading! Header image from the manga On Doorstep (it's BL and the MC looks like Nanami, I highly recommend). MDNI banner created by @/mikeykuns.

It’s past eleven when Nanami steps out of the conference room with the rest of his colleagues, having just finished the last team meeting of the day. He was asked to work overtime to help fix any remaining issues before the end of the fiscal year, which is in a few days. Normally, he’d never agree to this, but with your wedding anniversary approaching in a month, he wants the extra income to buy you that gold chain bracelet you’ve had an eye on. 

With all his tasks complete for the day, he can finally leave. He gathers his belongings, checking his phone to see the missed call and voicemail you left him about an hour ago. She must be asleep already, he thinks, not bothering to call you back. When he gets in his car, he props his phone to the mount, ready to listen to your voicemail on Bluetooth while he drives home. He presses play as soon as he pulls out from his parking spot.

“Kento.” Your voice is hushed and breathy. “I miss you.”

Nanami clenches his jaw, already aroused by your sultry tone. He grips the steering wheel tighter, glancing at the phone screen to check the length of the voicemail: three minutes. That’s the limit before it cuts you off. And while the ride home is a mere ten, he has a feeling it will be excruciatingly long by the way this message is already playing. 

You sigh. “I miss you so much, Kento.” There’s rustling in the background; Nanami imagines that you’re turning over in bed, under the covers. What are you wearing right now? The cute flannel pajamas he bought you two years ago for Valentine’s Day? Or the lingerie set you purchased yourself to surprise him for your most recent anniversary? At this rate, for his own sanity, he’s not sure which one he prefers. 

“I can’t wait till you get home, honey. I’m so…” Your voice is heavy with lust; he can see the provocative face you’re making as you squeeze the phone to your ear, reaching between your legs to that throbbing pussy. “I’m so horny right now. I wish you were here.” If he listens closely, he can hear the squelch of fingers flicking your clit rapidly. “But since you’re not, is it okay if I touch myself?”

He’s tempted to slam on the gas and fly through the city to get to you in record time. Break all driving violations and his own personal morals to watch you play with yourself. It’s torture, sitting behind this red light, following the rules, listening to you moan into the phone, so needy and desperate for his cock. What’s worse is that you’re ovulating this week; he knows how pent up you must be from his absence tonight. Fertile and in heat, that wet sloppy cunt begging to be filled with his seed. He promised he’d make it up to you tomorrow morning, but why waste this perfectly good opportunity? Especially when you’re practically begging for it. 

“Remember how good you fucked me last night? How you pinned me down by the wrists? How tightly I squeezed my legs around you as you pumped me full of cum?” It’s all Nanami thought about when he wasn’t focused on work today. Enough to force him into the men’s room to jerk himself off, fantasizing about it. Replaying your wanton moans ringing in his ears, the way your body convulsed around him, that adorably dumb expression on your face while you were getting fucked into oblivion. Normally, he’d be ashamed of himself at how lewd he was being in a work setting, but the memory of you was too irresistible, even for him. 

He’s not usually perverse like this, but something about you drives him crazy. His hands are typically at 10-and-2, the correct position to steer the wheel. But just this once, he deems it necessary to lose his prim and proper attitude. He drops one into his lap to unbuckle his belt, unzip his pants, and reach down to palm his cock through his briefs. It’s enough to gain a bit of relief from this torment, at least until he’s safely home. Nanami wipes the sweat beading on his brow, accelerating too hard when the light finally switches to green, keeping his grip steady as he strokes his cock, listening intently to your voice surrounding him in the car. 

“Are you hard right now, Kento?” There’s more movement in the background, as if you’re opening and shutting a drawer. Blood rushes into his cheeks, predicting exactly what you’re about to do. “Do you like listening to me touch myself?” There’s a familiar hum now, and he visualizes the pink vibrator buzzing in your hand, the fluttering tip teasing your swollen clit. He’d do anything to teleport directly into the bedroom and have his way with you.  

“I’m so lonely in this bed without you. I’m fucking myself, thinking about you. Wishing it’s you instead of this stupid toy. Can you hear it, sweetie?”

“Yes,” he answers to no one, shoving his underwear down to release his erection, stroking himself faster with his right fist. He’s forced to stop again; how many fucking streetlights does this goddamn city need anyways?! It’s excruciating. 

“My pussy is aching for your big cock.” The buzzing intensifies; you’ve increased the setting one level, on the verge of an orgasm. Typical behavior of his obedient slut of a wife. He loves sliding his fingers inside while you press the vibrator deeper into your clit. He’s obsessed with the way you gush around him, clenching him tighter, addicted to how it tastes on his tongue when he slides those cum-coated digits into his mouth. 

“Hurry home, honey. I’m waiting for you. This pussy is already so wet for you. I’m going to use you as my sex toy tonight.”

“Fuck, I want that. I really want that,” Nanami moans in response, releasing his cock from his grasp, thighs fidgeting from arousal. 

“You love it when I use you, huh? Love it when I fuck you silly until you’re milked dry.”

He groans, bucking his hips into nothing in the seat, briefly losing control of the wheel, causing the car to swerve. “Fuck, I love it, sweetie. I love it. Please.” He’s not sure what he’s begging for. All he knows is that if he doesn’t get home soon, he’ll combust, taking the car down with him. 

“Fuck, Kento. I’m thinking about how deep you hit it from behind. Slapping my ass, treating me like a bad girl, pounding your hips into me like a fucking animal. I get so fucking cock drunk off you. Makes me want to come just talking about it.”

“Then come for me, baby,” he blurts out, fully aware he’s talking to a recording. He’s completely lost it now. 

“Ah, I’m close. I – ” you interrupt yourself with your own whimpers. Nanami listens as he cruises past the speed limit now, wiping the bead of precum at the tip of his cock with his thumb,  edging himself. It’d be a shame for him to waste his load onto his lap. He’s going to give you every fucking drop he has. Build it up so that your pussy is flooding with his hot, sticky mess. 

You whine loudly, “I’m coming, Kento. Ah, I’m coming for you.” You moan into the phone, and Nanami has to release himself to prevent from orgasming too, Then, there’s silence on your end, except for your staggered breaths and occasionally rustling of the sheets beneath you. Eventually, the voicemail ends without another word, and he assumes that you’ve fallen asleep. He smiles to himself, imagining you, his gorgeous wife, with your legs splayed out, vibrator loosely gripped, completely knocked out on the bed. 

He replays the voicemail, continuing to edge himself until he finally pulls into their driveway, opening the garage. He parks, shutting off the ignition, then searches the backseat for the box of tissues, wanting to clean up whatever mess he’s made. Before he gets the chance to, the door leading inside swings open, and it’s you, standing in the door frame in a sheer lingerie nightgown. The same one he expected you’d be wearing tonight. 

He swallows hard, cock still out, stiffer than ever, watching you step towards the driver’s side, bright face peering through the window. You glance to his lap, noticing the lewd sight. 

You tap on the glass, feigning innocence. “Kento?”

He opens the door slowly, face flushed, eyes half-lidded in a daze. “Sweetheart, please.” 

His slacks have been shoved off haphazardly down his legs, engorged cock sprung against his abdomen, precum leaking out the tip. His cheeks are pink, hair tousled, forehead dewy with sweat. You smirk at him, pleased to see that he’s listened to your voicemail. “Oh, honey. Look at you. Have you been a bad boy?” You surround him with your fingers, jerking him slowly. He twitches at your touch, sensitive and aching in your fist. 

He shakes his head, shutting his eyes closed as you stroke him. “No,” he stutters, “I’ve been very good.”

You inspect the car, realizing what he’s trying to convey to you; he hasn’t come yet. “Oh, baby,” you coo, squeezing his cock in your fist. “You’ve been very, very good. My good boy.”

He nods this time, leaning forward for a kiss. “Yes, I’m a good boy for you. I’m your good boy,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Nanami isn’t normally like this, so submissive and needy. But tonight, he has zero hesitation; he’s begging to be dominated, to be used and toyed with. 

You lick into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. “Do you want your reward now? Or should we go inside first?”

He won’t last much longer, so he spits out, “Now. Please.”

You smirk, kissing him messily, tongues swirling, swapping spit while his dick pulsates in your palm. “Fuck,” he groans, rocking his hips into you. “I’m going to come if you keep – ” he chokes on his saliva, unable to finish his sentence. 

You giggle, nibbling at his ear lobe. “If I do what, baby?” You want to tease him a bit more, so you bend over his lap, kneeling on the bottom frame of the car, sinking down on him with your mouth. He throws his head back against the headrest, swearing loudly. You blow him until his cock is lubricated with your spit and he’s squirming above you, ready to burst. 

He pulls you off him abruptly, tugging you towards him. “I can’t,” he urges, completely red now, all frenzied and flustered. “Please, I can’t take it anymore.”

Giggling, you swing your leg over him, straddling his lap and smooching his forehead. “Alright, honey. I tormented you enough.” You’re not wearing any panties beneath your nightgown, so when you start to rub yourself on his shaft, his eyes widen in surprise, staring at you, sputtering a mix of curses and nonsense.

You grin, kissing him softly, rocking yourself along his length. “I told you, didn’t I? This pussy is so wet for you. I’ve been prepping myself all night, thinking about you.”

“Fuck, I’m going to come. Put it in, sweetheart. Hurry.”

You guide him in you easily until he bottoms out, sitting on him without moving, licking into his mouth. His hands slide around your hips, holding you tenderly, staying still, melting into your kiss. Before you can start bouncing on him, he squeezes you, huffing, “I’m coming.” 

His dick pulsates, spurting his hot seed deep inside you. You continue to kiss him, smiling against his lips, pleased and satisfied. When he’s finished, you graze his ear. “Good boy.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, brows knit together, eyes shut tight. He opens one to peek at you, embarrassed. “This is your fault.” The blush on his face cascades along his neck. “You knew this would happen when you left me that voicemail.”

Laughing, you give him a smooch on his cheek. “You’re right. I was being bad tonight. Are you going to punish me for it?” You tug at his tie, loosening it on his collar, trailing his chest to unbutton his dress shirt. 

He relaxes, smirking as he slaps your ass with his palm, cupping the flesh immediately after. You whine his name at the contact, nuzzling into his neck. “Ah, Kento.”

“Bad girls deserve to be punished,” he growls, low and wicked, delivering a fresh smack to the other side. His cock is erect again inside you, stuffing you full once more. “You’re going to take this cock until I can’t get hard anymore. Understand?” He rocks you back and forth on him, thumb pressed at your clit, rubbing small circles. “Until this slutty little cunt is so full of my cum.”

You nod silently, clinging to his shoulders, body trembling with arousal. The switch in demeanor, from him begging you for sweet release to now being domineering and cocky, has you titillating for more. He chuckles, wrapping you in snug embrace, kissing the top of your head. “Look at you, darling. You’re shaking. Let’s go to the bedroom, okay princess?” And his ability to turn on this sweet charm has you softening in his arms, pliant and ready to be played with. 

Soon, you’re inside your bedroom, legs spread wide, some residual cum trickling down the inside of your thighs. He strips his remaining clothes off, cock unbelievable rigid in his fist, jerking himself off to the sight of you in your transparent lingerie, his load leaking from your slit. 

“You’re a fucking slut for getting me worked up like this,” he grunts, hovering over you, tapping the tip of his dick on your swollen clit. “I edged myself the entire drive, saving all this cum for you.”

You bite your lip, holding back the guttural, animalistic moan escaping from within your throat. His confession has you quaking, eager to be filled even more to the brim with his seed, eager to be bred. You can blame it on the fact that you’re currently in heat, or that you’re just this much in love with your husband that you can’t think of anything else you want more in this moment than to be connected with him. You grip the sheets below you, fanning your thighs impatiently, waiting for his cock. “Breed me, honey. Fuck all your cum inside me. I want all of it, every single drop. Hurry.”

Oh how quickly do the roles reverse. 

He slides his cock inside you, his own cum coating it as he pulls out slightly, observing the lewd scene. “Look at how full you are, and it’s still not enough. Such a greedy cum slut.” He spits a frothy wad of his saliva onto your clit, smearing it with his thumb. “You’re going to come on this cock before I give you anything. Got it?”

You nod, closing your eyes, turning your head to the side, losing yourself to the pleasure rippling through your body as he pounds into your pussy, the sensation so intense it resonates all the way down to your toes. He’s so mean, so unlike his usual doting self when he’s in this mood, and you can’t help but succumb to it. He tips your chin back towards him. “Look at it,” he demands. You open your eyes, his expression wild, fucking you faster, his thumb working your clit ruthlessly. “Watch me fuck this messy cunt.” He grips you behind the legs, hoisting you so that your knees are towards your chest, holding you into a mating press. Unable to contain it any longer, you moan loudly, grabbing at your own ankles to keep yourself spread wide for him as he thrusts in and out of you relentlessly. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart? To be fucked and pounded by me instead of that silly toy. To use me and milk me dry of every last drop. You asked for this. This is what you get for being so fucking naughty.” He rests one of your legs onto his shoulder, turning to smooch the side of your knee, sucking on your skin. 

You continue to moan his name until it’s reduced into a blubber of incoherent cries as you’re pushed over the edge, reaching your climax. “That’s it, come on my cock, princess. That’s a good girl.” Still, he doesn’t ease up; in fact, he fucks you harder, spurred by your orgasm, intent on chasing another. “Just keep taking it, okay beautiful? I know you can do it.” He pounds you into the mattress, the bed creaking noisily beneath you with each solid thrust, perspiration dripping from his body onto yours. You’re no longer thinking clearly; everything is in a haze, blissful and euphoric, only your husband on your brain. He’s fucked all other thoughts out of you. Has you obsessed with his cock, hungry for his cum, keen on him to breed your fertile womb.

“Fuck, Kento, right there! Right there!” you cry out, grasping his hair between your fingers, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. 

“Right there, huh?” he teases, slowing his pace to thrust deep into your G-spot, nails digging into the flesh of your hips. “Always taking me so fucking deep.” He grabs your wrist, placing your hand at your clit. “Touch yourself while I fuck you. Squirt on my cock like a good little slut.”

You obey him, flicking your sensitive bud with your middle finger while he watches intently, another orgasm fast approaching. You twitch around him, pleasure overtaking your entire body, sending a rush of ecstasy that has you seeing stars. 

Of course, it still isn’t enough for him. Not after what you put him through earlier. “Turn over,” he mutters, pulling out, cum spilling onto the sheets. “You know what to do.”

He’s right; it’s second nature to you now, to throw your ass back and fuck yourself with his cock. All he has to do is kneel behind you with his hard dick out while you swallow him whole, pumping it in and out of your pussy. It doesn’t matter how pliant you feel, or how fucked out you are, tongue lolling out of your mouth, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. You know exactly what to do to get what you want out of him. 

You can feign innocence all you want, pretend to be shocked when he manhandles you like a fucking rag doll, slamming his hips into you, wet slaps bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. Shrieking when he presses his rough fingers to your swollen clit. Burying your face into the pillow, muffling your shameless moans and shrieks of, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” This is what you intended when you spread your legs earlier, phone in your hand, ready to leave that filthy voicemail for him, knowing he’d listen on his way home. Knowing he’d save all his cum for you because you’re ovulating, and he wants more than anything to get you pregnant. Knowing he’d want to fuck you into a frenzy regardless, always desperate to empty his load inside you. It’s what you want because you know he wants it too. That’s what makes it even better, knowing your husband is as feral for you as you are for him. 

“Fuck, I’m close,” he whispers, voice wavering.

Craning your neck to face him, you murmur, “Want to see you.”

He smiles, pulling out, your pussy fluttering around the emptiness, already eager to be filled again. “I want to see you too, my love.” He flips you over, pushing your knees towards your ears into a deeper mating press, kissing you sweetly on the lips. You wrap your arms around him, whining his name into his ear as he fucks you rough, the bed frame precariously shifting with each plunge of his cock. 

“Fuck, I’m coming,” he groans, cock twitching and spurting every hot pulse inside you. “Take all of my cum, sweetheart. All of it,” he mutters, forehead pressed to yours. “I love you. I love you so much.”

When he finishes, he lowers your legs slowly, rolling beside you to cradle you in his arms. You nestle into his chest, listening to his steadying heartbeat. “Are you okay, sweetie?” he asks, massaging small circles into your back.

You nod against him, remaining silent, too drained to even respond with words. He lets you rest like this for a moment before hopping off the bed, stepping into the bathroom, rummaging through the cupboards. Shortly after, he returns to you with a container of baby wipes in hand and a glass of water in the other. 

You’re a mess down there, sleek, wet, and gushing with slick. He kneels beside you, wiping your forehead first from sweat. You peer up at him, smiling, cupping his cheek. “Thank you,” you mouth to him. With another, he cleans your hands, then your legs, always glancing at you to make sure you’re still doing fine. You’re truly grateful for having a spouse as attentive and as caring as your husband, who, despite his typically stoic disposition, always dotes on you so sweetly. 

Done cleaning you up, he traces the outline of your lips with his thumb, saying, “Drink water, honey.”

You grumble at him, pretending to be asleep. He chuckles, leaning in closer for a kiss. “And go pee.”

You peek at him with one eye open, nuzzling your nose to his. “Okay, fine. But after you hold me for one more minute.”

He smiles, sliding his arms around you. “Anything you want, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

[moonstruckme]

Glad your back love! I have a request if that’s alright. Remus and reader going on a bookstore date and lunch or something!! That would be so cute. Imagine how excited both of them would be picking out books and being affectionate. Just a lot of fluff and cuteness. Thanks sweetness hope you enjoyed your break!

Thanks for requesting sweetness!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re feeling a bit guilty about the teas you’ve snuck in, but if there are two people who can be trusted around books, it’s you and Remus. He takes a careful sip as he leans in to skim the titles, sticking one hand in the pocket of his pants. 

“Island of Love,” he reads, amusement lilting his tone. “Original.” 

“I think I’ve actually read some of that author’s stuff,” you say. 

Remus quirks a brow at you interestedly, hand coming out of his pocket to pull the novel from the shelf. “Let’s see, a summer wedding, the groom’s brother and bride’s maid of honor hate each other, but—oh, he’s frustratingly attractive…and something about passionate summer heat.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “Wonder what that could be alluding to.” 

“Alright.” You steal the book from him, slotting back into its space. “I never said this stuff was, like, literature to be studied at Oxford. If you’re going to disrespect my section, run along to yours.” 

“Fairly sure it’s considered rude to abandon your date,” he muses. “What’s my section, by the way?”

“Depressing stuff.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm.” You take a sip of your own tea, trying not to fluster under his attention. You scan the shelves idly for a distraction. “It’s all rather doom and gloom. Very well-written doom and gloom, to be fair, but I’m not always looking to have my life changed. This stuff is fun, at least.” 

“I see,” he hums. “Oh, this looks familiar.” 

You turn to see him holding up the shiny new version of the worn and waterstained paperback that rests perpetually on your nightstand at home. 

“How do you know about that?” you ask him. 

Remus smiles. Your heart flutters. “It was on the coffee table when I was over last week. Are you rereading it?” 

“Yeah.” You shrug, turning your eyes away from him. “I reread it a lot, it’s my favorite.” 

“Mm, I noticed it looked fairly battered.” 

“Well-loved,” you correct him. 

He chuckles quietly, and you grin because you can’t help it. “Right, so sorry. My mistake.” 

You brush a piece of hair out of your face, slotting it behind your ear. Watch Remus’ eyes track the movement. “So what’s your battered book?” 

“Hm?” 

“Your favorite,” you clarify. “The book that’s all war torn and full of nonsensical annotations.”

He thinks for a minute. “I’m not sure,” he admits. “I have a few I go back and forth between, but lately it’s been The Secret History.” 

You have to cover your mouth with a hand to hide the full breadth of your smile, and Remus narrows his eyes at you. 

“What?” he asks.

“That book is so depressing.” You shake your head, delighted at being so right. “I mean, it’s beautifully written,” you amend. “Really gorgeous. I’m just not sure I found the plot as compelling as the prose.” 

His mouth actually drops open. You can’t tell how much of the shock is teasing and how much is real. “You thought that book had no plot?” 

“No, I mean, plenty happened.” You turn to face him, forgetting about the books around you for a moment to focus on this one. “But I felt like it happened so slowly, and there was so much in between that was just tons of description. It was like they almost skimmed over the murder part! There were so many plotlines that were brought in and then just disappeared, though I guess I can respect the ways in which it reflected real life.”

You think for a second that Remus might argue with you (he should, really—it’s his favorite book and you’re slandering it), but he keeps his mouth shut, watching you interestedly. 

“And don’t you think Richard was a bit passive? Henry and Bunny had so much going on, but the narrator could have literally been a fly on the wall the whole time. He kind of reminds me of Nick Carroway, you know?” 

“From the Great Gastby?” He tilts his head, eyes squinting a bit (it’s devastatingly cute). “How’s that?” 

“Just, they’re both such flat characters.” You frown. “I don’t really think either of them needed to be in the story at all. I mean, having a narrator that’s a character with no personality is effectively the same as having a non-omniscient third-person narrator, right?” 

Remus is biting the inside corner of his lips like he’s trying not to smile. “Right.” 

“What?”

“I’m just thinking that I need to get you talking about books more often,” he says. And that’s real affection in his eyes, mixed in with the humor. 

You look down, grinning at the front of your shirt, but his little smile doesn’t waver. 

“Shouldn’t be hard,” you say. An awkward, obvious sidestep of the compliment, but he lets you get away with it. “Your turn. Let’s go to your section.” 

He shrugs. “If you think you can stand it,” he says, but starts moving in that direction. You notice he’s still holding the copy of your favorite book. 

“Aren’t you going to put that back?” 

“No.” He doesn’t need to look down to know what you’re talking about. “You’ve already torn one of my choice novels to shreds, now it’s my turn to read yours.” 

A little bite of nervousness snips behind your belly button even as his sidelong look lets you know he’s only joking. “You could always borrow mine.” 

Remus blinks. “I’m flattered that you’d trust me with it,” he says, and it almost has you blushing again, that he knows the significance of you offering him your copy, “but I think I’ll read the un-annotated version first. But if the offer still stands after I’m finished, I’d love to read your thoughts on it.” 

He says it like it’s nothing. Like taking the time to read your favorite book twice, just so he can get to know you more thoroughly, isn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever so much as thought of doing for you. You worry that if you look down, your heart will be glowing right through your shirt.

“Alright.” You muster your courage, taking him by the hand. “But now we also have to find one to read together.” 

Remus has looked down at your joined hands, something like shyness coloring his expression, but he looks up to quirk an eyebrow at you. “Are you so sure we’ll be able to find something we can agree upon?” “So long as it involves a main character that actually does something, I think we can manage.”

[millyhelp]

It all fell Down.

Jason todd x reader

warnings: mentions of death, blood, sad jason. read at your own risk. Angst shit.

Notes: I cried writing this. good luck. and yes, I wrote a super cute smut a few hours ago and now this puddle of sadness. Maybe I should continue?

please comment.

"Stay with me, stay with me..." Jason's fingers passed over your face affectionately. Thick tears of fear left his face.

You were bleeding. Your wound was deep, a bullet hit you.

It was supposed to be the perfect day. Your wedding. Your white dress was now red across the entire length of your chest. Jason's white suit blouse was in the same situation.

You lost blood quickly.

"It's okay." Your voice was weak and you coughed. The bullet hole had pierced one of your lungs, making blood fill it.

"There's nothing okay. Just stay with me, okay?" Jason sobbed and held you tightly against him. "Don't leave me..."

"I won't. I'm with you, right there." You placed your hand on Jason’s heart. His voice was low. Your lips were turning purple. "Jay..."

"Don't talk, save your breath. Look at me, please" Jason had never cried so much in his life. "Where's the fucking help?!"

Jason shouted, his voice broken by crying. The entire Batfamily was trying hard to control the chaos that was happening. No one had understood where the attacks came from.

"Jay..." You called him again. his eyes were heavy. You knew you couldn't take it anymore. "I love you..."

"Don't! Don't say that!" Jason shook his head. Childish sobs left his lips. "Don't do this with me!"

"Kiss me..." your blood-stained hand went towards Jason's face.

Jason would deny it. But he couldn't. Inside him he knew his end was coming. He was just being selfish.

His lips kissed you with tenderness and pain. Fear. afraid to lose you

Your lips were cold. A heavy sigh left your lips. Your heart stopped.

A scream of pain left Jason's lips.

"No! No! NO!" Heavy tears were left, loud sobs and screams. "DONT LEAVE ME! No..."

Jason shook your freezing body.

"Wake up! come on! wake up!" Jason caressed your face "My love, my princess. Come on, you have to wake up. Let's get married."

Jason went into a state of delirium. He wouldn't accept it. No. The only one who loves him the way he is, the only one who wasn't afraid of him. You were just sleeping.

"You chose such a beautiful dress for me, huh?" Jason's voice was broken. The tears didn't stop falling. "I can't wait to fill our house with kids. We want three, remember?"

Bruce, Dick, Barbara, Tim and Damian had managed to stop the attack. They did not identify who sent the shooters. But that didn't matter now.

A tear left Barbara's eyes when she saw Jason kneeling on the floor with you in his arms.

Dick, Tim and Damian knelt in respect.

Little Damian let a few small tears fall. Tears that no one thought he would ever drop.

Bruce walked over to his son. He placed a hand on Jason's shoulder.

"Jason..." Jason ignored him and continued talking to you.

"Come on love, wake up. I promised to take you to London! We have to catch the plane in a few hours!"

"Jason." Bruce spoke more firmly.

"You're going to love Paris! You told me it was your dream to see that big tower! My French is terrible, by the way!"

"Jason!" It was Barbara's turn to call him.

Jason looked at her. Barbara shook her head.

Jason didn't want to believe it yet. He ignored her.

"Jason! She died!" Damian's voice was loud and tearful. Broken.

"No... not for me..."

For Jason it was just a nightmare that for him, he would wake up like every other time. But this time, it wasn't a dream.

you were gone. you died.

and Jason can't save you.

[20-th-centurygirl]

jude bellingham x reader

navigation main masterlist

summary: just a little blurb about congratulating jude <3

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

your eyelids were heavy with sleep and your ears were still ringing as you rested your head on the pillow facing jude. the pure adoration in his eyes as he looked at you melted your heart.

neither of you dared to break eye contact or the content silence that had washed over you, the crowded and busy evening had both you and jude slightly on edge and the moment of calm was perfect.

you raised a hand to rest on judes cheek, thumb gently stroking under his eye as they fluttered shut and jude let out a content sigh. "thank you" he whispered, breaking the comforting silence as he opened his eyes to look at you. "what for?"

"everything. for being by my side through every win and loss and still being equally as proud. for moving thousands of miles away from home to support me. for putting your own dreams on pause to let me follow mine. i don't think you know how much i appreciate the sacrifices you've made for me. i don't tell you enough how much it means to me. i don't know where i'd be without you. i love you more than anything angel"

you couldn't stop the tears from pooling in the corners of your eyes. "jude. i don't even know what to say" you sniffed, a slight pout forming on your face. "you don't have to say anything baby. just know how much i adore you"

"i hate you sometimes. you say all these cute romantic things and i can never top them" you pouted and the soft laugh that jude let out melted your heart. "always. just wait till our wedding vows. s'pose i'll have to let you go first"

"bit rude" you mumbled, playfully pinching his cheek before pulling him in for a kiss. his lips soft as they moved against yours perfectly. you pulled back, nudging your nose against his before pressing your foreheads together. "i don't know where i'd be without you either" you whispered, staring into his eyes with all the love and adoration in the world. "probably in debt with your shopping addiction" he teased, tickling at the bare skin at the side of your stomach.

you groaned, nestling your head into the crook of his neck. "d'ya wanna go to sleep now" he muttered, his lips brushing against your forehead as he placed a gentle kiss there. you only nodded, the heat radiating from judes bare chest and the way his fingers traced small shapes against your skin lulling you to sleep.

"was thinking we could go out tomorrow? we don't have to be back home for another few days" you grinned at his idea "can we get one of those locks and put it on that bridge?"

"anything you want love" he flicked off the lamps, wrapping his arms tightly around you. his eyes shut, and sleep began to take over his body.

"jude"

"yeah?"

"i love you too"

[imfinereallyy]

Spooky Spouse🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️

happy spooky season :) this is for my mutuals @cranberrymoons @penny00dreadful @theheadlessphilosopher @vthx who when I asked about when we think steddie bday's was, it derailed into well...this. And it was too hard to resist.

v brief mention of nsfw

"You want to what?"

Eddie stares at Steve excitedly, practically vibrating in his spot across from Steve in the kitchen.

"We should get married on Halloween!" Eddie shouts.

Steve lets his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose as he looks at his very manic, albeit very cute, fiance. "Babe, I love you, and for that, I am going to hear you out—"

"Love you too." Eddie interrupts softly.

Steve's mouth curves at the edges; he's sure he has what Robin has claimed as his 'lovesick' smile on his face. "—but why would you want to get married on your birthday?"

Suddenly, Eddie's excitement switches into an embarrassed blush. Hiding behind a finger spun around a soft curl, he mumbles, "...about that..."

Steve sighs and leans back in his chair. He feels the familiar ache in the bottom of his back, scarred road rash that never quite healed right in 86'. If he sits too long in one spot, Steve finds himself fidgety and unsettled.

He wonders briefly if he can convince Eddie to give him a massage later.

Eddie's embarrassment shifts for a moment to concern, eyes wondering where Steve's back meets the base of the old wooden chair they found on 74th Street two years ago. Steve knows Eddie had liked the way the chair creaked like Steve's knee, and that was reason enough to bring it home. Now, though, with the way Eddie holds his breath to see if the familiar creak of the chair will mix with the sounds of Steve's young bones aging, Steve knows he won't have to do any convincing at all.

"I'm okay, Eds. You were saying."

Eddie's face blooms red again. "Okay, only if you promise not to be mad."

"That is never a good sign."

Eddie bites his lip, "What if I told you that my birthday isn't really on Halloween?"

Steve stares blankly, "I know I've had a few knocks on the head, Eds, but I'm pretty sure you can change your name, not your birthday. Having a wedding doesn't mean you get to move your birthday."

"Well!" Eddie jumps, this time with more anxious energy, "You see, that's what I mean; we wouldn't have to move my birthday if we got married on Halloween."

"Okay, you lost me. Am I concussed again? Did we go too hard last night? I know you said you were 'gonna fuck me so good I would forget my name,' but I'm pretty sure this isn't what you meant."

Eddie takes a deep breath before getting on his knees in front of Steve, taking his hand into his own. "Stevie, I mean that I lied. My birthday isn't Halloween. It's actually in February."

"What."

"You said you wouldn't be mad!"

Steve snorts but gives Eddie's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm pretty sure I actually said that 'wasn't a good sign'. I never agreed not to be mad."

"We both know it means the same thing to you." Eddie huffs.

Steve's lovesick smile is back again, despite knowing he should be mad. "You're telling me you've convinced everyone your birthday is on Halloween?"

"...well, everyone but Wayne." Eddie's smile turns sheepish.

"Jesus Christ Eds."

Eddie jumps up from his knees back to his feet. Steve can hear Eddie's ankle crack at the sudden change. He keeps a hold on Steve's hand. "Listen, I had good reason. I love Halloween; I should be a Halloween baby. My death was almost by bats; I mean, by that logic, it's almost full circle."

"I feel like you're D&D'ing me into logic that doesn't make sense. Eddie, are you trying to make it worse?"

Eddie throws his head back and groans, "No. I'm just—I love Halloween. It feels wrong not to have something important on that day."

"So you decided to change your birthday? Ed's that's not legal."

Eddie's excitement comes back tenfold, giving Steve whiplash. "Well, neither is our wedding! So it's perfect! Honestly, very metal of us to be fighting the law on such an amazing day." Eddie's arms flap around in excitement, making their conjoined hands move messily throughout the air.

Steve wants to be mad; he really does. But he can't help it; he just loves this idiot too much. "Fine, we can get married on Halloween."

"Really?!"

Steve stands, bringing his lips to Eddie's hand, then gently to his lips. He murmurs against his mouth, "On two conditions."

Eddie nips Steve's lip, "Anything, baby."

"One." Steve starts, sliding his tongue into Eddie's mouth, just to be a brat, before pulling back. Eddie groans but doesn't protest. He knows that this is the rare occasion it's his turn to be punished. "You have to tell everyone the truth about your birthday."

"Yep, fine. You got it." Eddie grabs Steve by the back of his neck and pulls him back. Consuming him greedily, Steve gives in to the distraction for a moment. Loving the feeling of Eddie's heat pressed against his own.

Steve pulls back reluctantly, a trail of spit connecting the two of them. Eddie whines and paws at Steve's hips, trying to draw him back. "Two, you have to tell me when your actual birthday is."

The heat clears from Eddie's eyes and the sheepish look returns. "Uh..."

Steve starts to remove himself from Eddie, but Eddie scrambles to bring him back against his chest. "Fine. Fine, I'll tell you."

Steve leans his forehead against Eddie's, patiently waiting for him to spill.

"It's February 14th."

Steve's eyes go wide, "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ."

**

this spiraled form all of us being convinced eddie would lie and say his bday is on Halloween. to my mutals, sorry I didn't tag you all it got to long, but this was for you guys ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[genshin-obsessed]

POCKY I HAVE A NEW IDEA 👀

With any of the boys you feel like writing for:

(Both star rail and genshin are fine! But if you could include Cyno and perhaps Gepard that would be lovely <3)

Reader who accidentally loses their engagement/wedding ring. Maybe they took it off to shower and it got lost or (if you want angst) they got into a serious accident/were kidnapped/etc. and it was lost in all the excitement. In any case reader feels terrible about it and is crying and apologizing to him and we get lots of comfort at the end hehe

✧ Ooh I chose to do both fandoms! This sounds super cute and fun! This was a lot more fun than I thought it would be! I hope you like it ✧ Includes: Cyno, Kaveh, Alhaitham, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Blade. ✧ Extra: I think I’m starting to like my ooc Blade… also it's a bit lengthy!

✧ ─ GENSHIN IMPACT ─ ✧

» Cyno «

Cyno had actually had the ring custom made. It was one of your few cherished possessions. You looked at it multiple times a day. Any friend you met, you’d happily show them the ring to which they just chuckled. Newly engaged couples tended to do that.

You did your best not to take the ring off willy nilly. If there wasn’t a reason for it to come off then it didn’t need to come off. You also placed it in one place if you ever did take it off, in a jar on your nightstand.

You… weren’t sure what the hell happened but the ring kinda vanished. It was one minute and then it wasn’t. You knew you didn’t take it off. But it was gone.

At first, you were in denial. There was no way it just disappeared like that. But it wasn’t on your finger, so where was it?

You had practically destroyed your bedroom in search of that ring. The fact that it wasn’t on your finger was sending so much anxiety through you, it was bringing you to tears. You hadn’t even realized what ruckus you’d caused since you were too busy in your own head.

“(Y/n)!” A loud voice called, finally breaking you from your trance. You looked up to see Cyno standing there with wide, concern-filled eyes. “What happened? Did someone hurt you? Are you ok?”

When you saw him, you started crying even harder, feeling the guilt well up in your chest. You knew it was difficult for Cyno to have that ring made and you just went and lost it like an idiot! You covered your mouth, trying to muffle your sobs.

Cyno, on the other hand, was also panicking, wondering if his simple entrance had ruined your day. Of course that sounded ridiculous so he slowly approached you, grabbing your shoulders.

“Hey, hey, ok, just- just breathe, ok? I won’t understand anything and I can’t help if you keep crying like this.” It took you a good five minutes before you were able to calm down enough to explain what happened.

“I-I lost the ring.” You managed how, holding your hand up to show your finger with the ring missing. Cyno felt both relief and sadness. He was relieved that nothing serious had happened such as someone threatening you, hurting you, or someone you loved. But he was also sad that you lost the ring- mainly because of how much you were crying. He loved how much you loved the ring, but it was never worth this many tears.

Cyno sighed and took that same hand, placing a kiss on your now lonely ring finger. He leaned in and kissed your forehead too, giving you a hug.

“It’s just a ring, my darling. I know you loved it- and I’m happy- but I don’t want you to cry this much over it. It’ll be ok, we can find it. Or get a new one.” You immediately shook your head at his last offer.

“No, I want that one. I don’t want a new one.” You said, looking up at him. He smiled a little at your stubbornness.

“Ok, then let’s start looking.”

It took a little while- almost an hour- before you two were able to find the ring. Apparently, you had placed it in the drawer of his nightstand accidentally and didn’t think to check it because you don’t usually touch his things. You felt a little silly but you were over the moon to have your ring back.

» Alhaitham «

Alhaitham’s ring for you was nothing short of magnificent. Everyone noticed it without you saying anything as it was so eye-catching.

Because of this, you were extremely careful when going anywhere alone. The ring was no doubt expensive, and you didn’t want to take any chances.

The thing was… sometimes people just followed without you realizing. Normally, if you were Alhaitham, he’d notice almost immediately. You on your own, however, could not do that.

You hadn’t even realized it but there was a thug in front of you demanding you hand over anything of value to him.

You scrambled to give him all the money and jewelry you had, hoping he’d let you go free. Then his eyes fell on your beautiful, sparkling ring. You felt your heart sink as he pointed to it.

“That too- gimme that too!” He yelled, wanting to show you that he wasn’t scared or in the mood to waste time. You slowly shook your head, feeling the fear spreading further through your body and solidifying your legs to the ground.

“Please l-let me keep this, I gave you everything else.” You said, tears blurring your vision, forcing you to blink to get them out.

“No, no, I want that too. You either hand it over or I take it off your corpse.” He growled, glaring at you. Realizing that Alhaitham would be even more angry knowing you put yourself in harm’s way, you found what little courage you had and slid the ring off of your finger. Your hands were shaking and there was a vice grip on it because you didn’t want to lose it. But eventually… you let go. The thug took it and ran off, leaving you standing in the dark, crying.

It was almost ten minutes later when you found yourself having the energy to walk back when you saw an extremely worried Alhaitham racing towards you.

“(y/n)! Where have you been?! Do you know how worried I was?!” He yelled as he instantly engulfed you in his arms, squeezing you almost too tightly. You hugged back immediately, needing that comfort desperately. 

Finally, you mustered up the courage to tell him that you’d given up the ring. Willingly. Kinda. 

“Good,” Alhaitham said, making your eyes widen. “It’s better than your life. I could buy a thousand rings like that, but I only have one of you.” He said as he took your face, gently wiping your tears away. “You did the right thing, we’ll get you a new ring.”

His words did bring some level of comfort to you, but you still felt a little guilty for having lost such a beautiful ring.

“W-what if I want that one? And only that one.” You asked, sniffling a little. Alhaitham smiled, kissing your cheek.

“Then we’ll get that one back.”

As promised, Alhaitham didn’t rest until he caught the thud, making sure to retrieve all of your items- especially your ring. He also made sure he was the one who slid it onto your finger- again.

» Kaveh «

Kaveh’s ring was intricate and on the inside, had an engraving which translated how much he adored you and that he would forever. That ring was something you cherished so much. You showed him every single day how beautiful it looked. He just chuckled and nodded, always kissing your ring finger.

You tried to keep the ring on your finger 24/7, making sure it washed well with every hand wash. You didn’t like taking it off very often, always worrying it might just get lost.

If you did take it off, you actually kept it in sight. Placing it in the center of the counter and making sure it would just fall off or something.

One day, you’d had a particularly busy day and you were pretty exhausted. You’d remembered taking your ring off for a minute to wash up but when you came back… it was gone.

All that exhaustion was gone and suddenly, all you felt was panic and dread. Where did it go? Where did the ring go?! You looked everywhere you possibly could, trying not to think of the worst. But with every passing second you couldn’t find the ring, those thoughts invaded your mind and all you could see was a very angry Kaveh.

You began to tear the entire room apart, throwing things around as you started to search in every nook and cranny. Of course, you didn’t realize Kaveh was even in the room until he grabbed your shoulders, making you scream.

“It’s me! What are you doing?” He asked with a look of concern as he gestured to your shared bedroom. You paused and started looking around- it was a disaster. Everything was everywhere and it would take hours to clean up.

“I-I’m sorry…” you mumbled in a small voice, wiping your cheeks. Kaveh’s expression didn’t change but he took both of your wrists and slowly pulled you to the bed, stepping over all the clothes and items.

“Sit.” He said as he grabbed a water bottle from off the floor. He took off the cap and held it out to you. “Just take a second and tell me what’s wrong.” He said before he kneeled in front of you, rubbing your thigh a little to comfort you.

You sipped the water, taking a few deep breaths to calm down so you could actually explain what was going on. You could see just how worried he was- not to mention, you could see the slight redness and glossiness in his eyes. Kaveh hated it when you cried- if you cried hard enough, that pain transferred to him and sometimes… he’d tear up a little.

“I lost the ring.” You said as you showed him your left hand. “I-I just set it down and I don’t know where it went.” You sniffled feeling the tears come back, but Kaveh grabbed your hands and kissed your ring finger.

“It’s ok, love. We can find the ring if it’s in here. But there’s no reason for you to be this upset. It’s just a ring, I could get you another one.”

“No, I want that ring.”

“What if I got you a ring that looked exactly like it?”

“It’s not the same one. I want that one- not another one.” You said, frowning at him. Kaveh only chuckled and nodded, standing up and lifting your head to kiss your lips.

“Ok, then let's start looking.” 

It took a grand total of two and half hours for you to clean up everything and finally find the ring. It had landed under the bed, right next to the leg hiding from view. You were so happy that it was back on your finger that you swore you’d never take it off no matter what. Kaveh just felt better knowing you were ok and happy again.

✯.⋅ HONKAI STAR RAIL ⋅.✯

» Gepard «

Your engagement ring was like your most prized possession. You looked at it every single day since Gepard had proposed and almost never took it off. Even after a month, it was still the most beautiful piece of jewelry you owned.

You were still very careful with everything you did, treating it like glass at times. You even had little covers on the drains so it never fell down the drain. Your worst nightmare was the ring falling down the drain.

There were times you did take it off. Drying your hands was easy without the ring so when you washed your hands… you took it off.

You had ended up getting distracted and when you came back… it was gone.

Panic. Full fledged panic. You looked everywhere you possibly could for that little ring but it was just gone. You even went through the phase of looking at your own hands as if you could forget the feeling of the heavy gem on your hand. 

At this point, you were in tears- absolutely distraught. That’s when Gepard walked into the room.

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong?” He asked with a frown as he walked to you, seeing your state. He was extremely concerned as you were safe in your home so nothing could've happened. But he'd seen too many things to not start panicking a little himself.

“I-I lost it! I can’t find it- I looked everywhere!” You yelled, the tears just pouring down your cheeks. Your heart was beating out of your chest, especially now that Gepard was here. You weren't able to find your ring before he came home.

“Wait, ok, breathe.” He said as he took your shoulders and made you look at him. “Just breathe for a second. What did you lose?” 

You took deep breaths but held up your left hand, showing the missing ring. Gepard frowned and now he understood what made you so upset. 

“Ok, ok, don’t cry. We can find it. We’ll find it, so please don’t cry.” He said as he reached up and dried your tears. He knew the ring meant a lot to you but he didn’t realize how much. It was sweet… but he also hated it when you cried.

“It was s-so expensive! And I-I lost it!” You said as you looked around as if you'd just end up spotting it or something. 

Gepard sighed and shook his head, making you look at him. His warm thumbs slid under your eye to catch the oncoming tears.

“So? Besides, we’ll find it so there’s no reason to cry this hard. Come on, we’ll look all day if we have to.” He said, kissing your forehead. You could feel the intense relief, knowing he wasn’t angry at you or disappointed in you. Now you just had to find the ring. 

And you did. It had fallen and landed behind your desk. It was hard to see with how little room there was between the wall and desk.

» Blade «

You loved that ring. Honestly, even after a month or so, you still hadn’t gotten over how beautiful the ring was. You adored it.

When you took your engagement ring off, you had a special little box you put it in. You closed it and locked it every single time.

This particular time you were a bit busy and frazzled. You weren’t thinking and you just realized the ring wasn’t on your finger. So you went to your box to get it. 

It was gone. Like it grew legs and walked off! Panic set in immediately because there’s no way you left it anywhere else.

“Ok, ok, just… breathe.” You told yourself as you took slow, deep breaths. They were so forced that it made you even more anxious.

Tears blurred your vision as you tried to think where you could’ve left it. No location came to mind- only a very angry Blade. God, you were so irresponsible! That ring was so expensive and you lost it about a month after getting it!

So you began to tear apart your bedroom in a desperate attempt to find the ring. That’s when Blade walked in, but you were too busy to notice him. He looked around both confused and concerned.

“What the hell…?” His voice makes you yell as you turn around and his eyes widen a little at the sight of your tear-stricken face. “What happened? Are you ok?” He asked as he walked to you, stepping over the items thrown about.

“I-I lost it. I’m sorry! I’ll find it so don’t worry! I’ll look everywhere.”

“I’m sure we can just buy it again.” He said in his usual monotone as he began to wipe your tears with a tissue he grabbed from nearby. He had no idea what you were talking about at first, but if a missing item made you this upset, then he'd just get it for you again. Simple.

You just held your hand up to show the missing ring making him stare for a moment. Oh.

“Yeah, I can buy another one of those too.” You shook your head, sniffling. 

“N-no, I don’t want a new one. I want that one.” No ring could possibly compare to that first one. You refused to give up. If someone stole it- highly unlikely- you’d find them and take it back. You were that desperate.

“Fine. We’ll find it then but you’re not gonna see anything with all those tears in your eyes.” He said as he dabbed your eyes again. He wrapped an arm around you, giving you a tight hug, rubbing your back. It upset him when you cried… so now he really had to find that ring. 

You two eventually found it, you’d actually left it on the kitchen counter when you were going to cut the chicken, not wanting to get any on it. You didn’t put it away because it was only a few minutes that you’d be busy.

Somehow, the ring had fallen onto the ground and rolled under the counter. When Blade found it, he made sure to be the one to slip it back onto your fingers, asking if you felt better now that you had the ring back. You did. 100%.

» Jing Yuan «

The day Jing Yuan proposed to you was one of the happiest of your life. You flaunted that ring everywhere to the point where some of his friends were concerned you might get attacked for the ring. It was definitely expensive.

Removal of the ring was near impossible, you didn’t take it off for any reason. If you were doing something that might stain- you wore thick gloves. But taking that ring off never happened.

It was endearing for Jing Yuan. He’d often catch you just staring at it with that goofy smile on your face. And it brought him a world of joy. He was worried you wouldn’t like it.

But right now… you kinda wished you had been a bit more careful. You showed off your ring too much.

“A-and the ring! Gimme that ring!” The man said as he pointed his gun at you. You were willing to give over anything except that. You covered your ring with your hand and shook your head.

“N-no… no, I can’t give you my ring.” You said with a frown.

“I’ll kill you! Give it to me!” He threatened and you were terrified but you shook your head.

“Please don’t take it. You can take everything else just n-not my ring.” You said with the tears in your eyes. Your hands were shaking and your heart was pounding in your chest. 

A yelp escaped your lips when the barrel of the gun touched your forehead. All you could do was stand there as he reached over and slid the beautiful ring off your finger and scoffed. 

“Idiot.” With that, he ran off. You were frozen in fear, unable to move or breathe as if you were wondering if he’d return. 

You heard yelling only a few moments later but it didn’t matter to you. You just stood there, feeling the anger and frustration in your heart. Why didn’t you do something else!? You just stood there!

“(Y/n)!” A voice called but you were too busy in your thoughts. “(Y/n)!” You only registered the voice when you felt your shoulders move. It was Jing Yuan. He looked both angry and terrified as he tried to bring you back from your shock. “It’s ok, it’s just me.” He said when he saw you flinch.

You wasted no time hugging him so tightly as you felt a pang of guilt. You lost the ring. You never listened and now the ring was gone. You could just cry as he held you, trying his best to give you a moment. 

“H-he took it! He took m-my ring!” You said, barely able to breathe. 

“Shh, it’s ok, it’s fine. I’ll get you another one.” He said as he felt his own heart break at your distress.

“N-no! No, I want that one!” You said as you looked up. He frowned as he took your face and wiped your tears.

“Ok, I’ll get you that one. I promise, just please don’t cry.” Jing Yuan wasn’t one to cry but if you were crying this badly, then his eyes do get a little teary as well. He feels your pain, no matter what kind. Once you were calm, he made sure to take you back home, assuring you his men were out looking.

Eventually, you two were met with good news. The mugger was arrested only an hour or so after the crime and all your belongings had been taken back by the knights. Including your beloved ring.

[wheresarizona]

Learning to Live Part 32

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hadn't wanted one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Big tantrum?” Benito asked.

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

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

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

The other two men were smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What did he mean by that?

“What about you, Javi?” Ken asked.

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

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

He met the other man’s eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know—are you okay, baby?”

"Nooo, I miss you, and I wan’ you and I need you to come ge’ me—can you pleeease come ge’ me? I don' wanna be out anymore—I wanna be at home with you and naked in our bed; wait, have I told you how amazing you fuck? If there-was like an Olympics for fucking, you'd ge’ all the gold medals tha’s how good you are.” She inhaled before she continued speaking. “And your face, god, I miss your stupidly han’some face with your big baby cow eyes tha’ Daphne and Velma totally inherited from you, and tha’ gorgeous nose, and your lips—everything on tha’ mug of yours is perfec,’ and I canno’ believe you’re marrying me. Me?! How the fuck did I ge’ so lucky?! Like, you’re too pretty for me, and usu’lly, the pretty boys jus’ wan’ my family’s money—like fucking Daniel,” she fumed. “But you jus’ like me for me, and I’m sooo in love with you tha’ I canno’ stand bein’ so far away from you righ’ now. Javiii, can you pleeease come pick me up?"

Oh, she was drunk and missed him.

With how sloshed she sounded, it had him worried she hadn’t eaten much food or had enough water, and he wanted to go to her right that second to get her home and sober her up so she wasn’t too miserable the next day. He was trying to ignore what she said about her ex, but the more he learned about the guy, the higher the chances rose that he’d kick the fucker’s ass if they ever met.

"Are you sure you want to leave early?" he asked.

"Yesss, pleeease. I wanna go home wit’ you."

"Are you somewhere safe, cariño (sweetheart)?" It didn’t sound like she was inside the bar.

“I’m ou’side the backdoor where people smoke—Stacy and Arleta from the grocery store are ou’ here wit’ meee. Say hi to Javi!”

He could tell she held the phone toward them.

“Hi, Javi,” he heard the two women say. “Are you coming to ge’ me?” Cielito asked.

“Yes, mi amor. I just need to tell everyone bye—don’t hang up.”

He didn't as he quickly walked over to say goodbye and thank his dad, friends, and family for the lovely night, telling them his fiancée wasn't feeling good and he needed to go pick her up—the plan had always been he’d be her designated driver since he hadn’t wanted to drink too much; the rest of the people at her party had their own rides.

His long legs had him striding toward where his pickup was parked.

“Did you have a good time?” he asked her.

His truck door squealed as he opened it and got inside.

“Yesss! There was karaoke and I had a lot of tequila. Like a lot. Like sooo much, I sang “My Heart Will Go On” from Titanic withou’ anyone daring me to—tha’ movie is sooo fucking sad. If we were in the freezing water and you pu’ me on a door or whatever piece of wood, you beh your ass I’m gonna figure ou’ a way to ge’ you on it with me. I’m not gonna be a fucking liar and say I won’ leggo and fucking leggo! You’re gonna be like nex’ to me, or hell, you could ge’ on top of me, and we’d survive—I’d make sure we both survived.”

She made him smile because this wasn’t the first time she’d gone on this rant.

He was already on the road heading toward town.

“I’d make sure we survived, too, baby. I’d use my body heat to keep you warm.”

“Why is tha’ sooo romantic? Honestly, I think you’d figure ou’ a way to ge’ us into one of the lifeboats.”

“Probably.” He shrugged.

“And then we’d ge’ to Amer’ca and start our new life together and have sooo many babies.”

He was still smiling. “Yeah—so many babies?”

“It was ye olden times when the only thing women could do was take care of their husbands and babies, plus there was basic’ly no birth control and you only cream pie, sooo yeah, we’d hav’ a ridic’lous amoun’ of babies.”

“I wanna have a ridiculous amount of babies with you now.”

“God, I know you do, and I wanna have all your babies, all of them, ‘cause you’re gonna be the bes’ dad. Like, the bes’, and our kids will be sooo lucky to have you, and they’re gonna love you sooo much and be so cute—I hope they look like you—you were sush a cutie, and I’d love to have a bunch of mini yous.”

“I want them to look like the both of us.”

“Meh, you’re cuter.”

“Stop that, you’re fucking adorable, and I’d love if our kids looked like you.”

“Fine.”

“Why’d you drink so much tequila, mi amor? That stuff makes us—”

“Horny?” she finished for him. “Our clothes magic’ly disappear.” Her speech was still slurring. “Robyn got us Tequila Sunrises, then Cat—” That was the wife of one of her coworkers at the hospital; they hung out with the couple occasionally. “—got us another round of them, bu’ Alma—” His prima (cousin) and sister of Sebastián. “—got us all tequila shots, and I also got us tequila shots, and I think there was another round—too much tequila, whish is why I called you to pick me up.”

His mouth turned down in a frown.

“Please tell me you had some food, too, and water.”

“Yesss, I knew you’d worry, so I ate a plate of fries and shared mozz-mozzarella.” She giggled. “Tha’s a fun word to say—I shared mozzarella sticks with the girls, and I drank water—had a glass aft’r ev’ry drink ‘cause I was-like, ‘If my Javi were here righ’ now, he’d wan’ me staying hydrated,’ and I couldn’ le’ you down.”

He smiled. “Thank you, baby. I’m proud of you.”

There was someone in the background who sounded just as drunk as her, asking her, “Wha’ are you doin’ out here?” It was Robyn.

“Calling Javi,” Cielito answered.

“Come back inside. You said you were goin’ pee.”

“I wen’ and Javi’s comin’ to pick me up. I’m waitin’ for him to ge’ here.”

“Girl, it’s barely pas’ midnigh’, and your bachelorette party! Leave the man alone and have fun with us! We’ll get pie after here at the diner.” It was open twenty-four hours.

“I need him,” she whined.

“Oh my god, you’re ditchin’ us for dick!”

“It’s really good dick, and I need it!”

“Mi amor?” Javi said to get her attention.

“Yes?” she answered.

“I’m not gonna fool around with you while you’re fucked up…”

“I know,” she whispered. “Don’ tell anyone, bu’ I’m too drunk, and I hate it. I wanna go home.”

“Okay, cariño (sweetheart). I’ll be there soon to pick you up.”

Another voice was heard on her end. “Why are you guys ou’ here?” He was pretty sure it was his prima, Alma.

“She’s ditchin’ us for dick!” Robyn exclaimed.

“I told you it’s really good dick!” Cielito said just as loud.

“Gross!” Alma was slurring her words, too, and sounded disgusted. “You’re gonna-make-me puke!”

“Sorry, Alma,” the other two women replied in unison.

“It’s okay,” Alma said. “You’re leaving already? I don’ wan’ you to go. We’re having so mush fun!”

“Yeah, don’ go!” He thought that was Cat. “This is the only night I can go ou’ alone this month! Le’s keep partying!”

“I’m sorry, guys,” Cielito responded. “Tequila was a mistake, and I need to go home.”

Javier figured she’d forgotten he was on the phone with her.

“I’m horny, too,” Robyn said, “bu’ you don’ see me booty callin’ my boyfriend to ge’ me, and he’s got really good dick, too!”

“¡Guácala (Gross)!” Alma interjected. “No sé por qué salgo contigo (I don’t know why I hang out with you).”

“Because we’re fun!” Robyn said. “Don’ lie, you loved it when I got our bride-to-be to rap “Shoop” with me.” Javier only knew that Salt-N-Pepa song because he’d heard his bride-to-be rap it on many occasions—she was really good, to be honest.

“You are fun, bu’ who wan’s to hear about their brother and cousin’s sex lives?”

“Sorry, Alma,” Robyn and Cielito said again.

“You all can still have fun withou’ me!” his wif-fiancée told them.

“A bachelorette party withou’ a bachelorette?” Robyn asked.

“I think that jus’ makes it a girls' night out—yeah, you can have a girls' night out! Fuck, where’s Javi? Did I tell you guys he’s comin’ to ge’ me? Wait, my phone! Javi, are you still there?”

“Yes, baby, I’m still here.”

“Where are you?”

“Maybe ten minutes away.”

“Ugh, okay.” She whispered the next bit loudly, “Robyn’s mad at me.”

“Damn straigh,’ I’m mad at you!” Robyn said. “It’s your bachelorette party, and you’re abandonin’ us for a man!”

“But he’s like a really grea’ man, and wonderful, and han’some, and the bes’, and I love him so, so, so, sooo, mush and wanna have his babies. So, I’m not abandonin’ you for ‘a man,’ I’m abandonin’ you for the greates’ man alive, and you can’ be mad at me for tha’.”

What she said had Javier grinning.

“Y’all are too disgustingly in love, but wha’ever, nex’ girls' night, no fuckin’ tequila.”

She forgot he was on the phone with her again and listened to their drunken discussion about what they should do for a girls' night, going off topic a few times. Her friends stayed with her until he arrived.

He pulled into the parking lot and stopped at the back of the building where he saw the group of women and some other bar patrons hanging out by the door, the area lit by two lights on the building.

“Cielito?” he said, hoping it’d get her attention. “Are you still there?”

“Oh my god, Javi!” Came her exclamation. “Where are you?!”

The truck was put into park, and he kept it idling as he got out.

“To your left.”

Her head turned to the right, making him snort with a smile on his lips.

“Your other left, mi amor,” he said. He’d walked around to open the passenger door, and her gaze finally landed on him under the orangeish glow of a towering street light.

“He’s here!” she squealed, and he ended the call, putting his phone back on his belt. He watched her shove her own in her purse before she hugged all of her friends goodbye.

Javier had seen the dress she was going to wear tonight; he just hadn’t seen her wearing it. When she turned his way and he got a good look at her, his mouth fell open, and he thought his heart would beat out of his chest like a cartoon character in love.

The champagne-colored mini dress was long-sleeved and covered in sequins, the neckline plunging to accentuate her breasts, the skirt ending just a little above her knees, a white sash across her chest reading in fancy black script, ‘Bride-to-Be,’ and she looked fucking stunning.

His awe ended when he suddenly had to act fast and catch the woman he loved who flung herself into his arms—he grunted at her body slamming into him, her lips crashing into his, wrapping his arms around her back to feel her skin from the deep V down her back.

The smell of booze hit him almost as hard as she did, along with the undertones of her perfume, Javier tensing when she grabbed his ass. With how she was hitching her leg up on his waist, he thought she was trying to climb him like a goddamn tree.

“Mmm… hi, baby,” his muffled voice said.

His hand went to her face, his thumb under her chin, and fingers splayed along her cheek as he gently pushed to separate her mouth from his. Her eyelids were closed, and her lips pursed.

“Hi, baby,” he said again. “Did you miss me?”

She smiled. “Yesss.” Her glassy, bloodshot eyes blinked open, and it was obvious she was utterly blitzed; there was no way in hell she could pass a field sobriety test. “God, you’re sooo gorgeous—look at your cute nose—” She poked the tip of it. “—boop. Your eyes are sooo pretty, and you smell sooo good—you always smell so fucking good. I love you so, sooo much.” She pecked him on the lips. “I’m sooo happy you’re here.”

She looked so cute and it had him smiling.

“Yeah?” He shrugged off his jacket and put it over her shoulders.

“Mmm, tha’s nice and warm. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Cielito. You ready to go?”

“Oh my god, yesss!”

“Okay, let’s get you into the truck, hermosa (beautiful).”

He helped her get up into the cab, closing the door behind her. Seconds later, he was in the driver’s seat, with her pressed right against him.

“I’m sooo happy we’re going home,” she said, hugging his arm closest to her.

“I’m happy we’re going home, too, Cielito—let’s get you buckled.”

He leaned over her to grab the seatbelt, getting it over her lap and buckling it in, ensuring it wasn’t loose, before getting his own belt on.

The short drive to their apartment had her in his space, kissing his cheek and neck while telling him how much she loved him, and it was so sweet that warmth spread through his body.

When they arrived, Javier had to keep her steady as they walked with an arm around her waist, making her lean into him. Once inside, he propped her against the front door to remove his coat from her shoulders and her sash, hanging them with the other jackets on the wall. Then, he pulled her purse from her arm, putting it on the console table, and he helped her remove the flats on her feet, kicking off his shoes afterward.

Her eyes were closed most of the time while she mumbled, a lot of it he didn’t understand, but what he did make out was her confessing her love for him and waxing poetic about how attractive she found him—it was adorable.

He wanted to get her sober, so he helped steady her as they made their way to the kitchen, moving past the counters and appliances to the small connected dining room and having her sit in a kitchen chair, pushing her close to the table in order to keep her from falling onto the floor.

Javier’s palm rubbed circles into her back. “Cielito?”

Her head tilted up in his direction, looking at him with red, glossy eyes and a big, dreamy smile.

“You’re pretty.” Her speech wasn’t slurring as much. “And you’re marrying me. I can’t believe you’re marrying me. We should blow this popsicle stand and go back to our place to have premarital sex—gotta do as much of that as we can before we’re married and our sexy times become legal.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “What do you mean by the sex becoming legal?” he asked.

“You know, sex is only legal to God when the couple is married—we won’t be living in sin anymore; gosh, that’s gonna make your dad sooo happy. I love your dad. He’s the fucking best. Let's make him your mom’s flan next weekend ‘cause that dude deserves it—man, I’m hungry.”

“We’ll make him flan, baby.” His hand cupped her cheek. “Can I make you some buttered toast?” That seemed like a safe choice and shouldn’t make her sick.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh my god, toast sounds fucking amazing!”

He smiled. “Okay, mi amor. I’ll make you some.”

Javier bent to kiss the top of her head before padding into the kitchen.

Making her two slices of toast and having her eat them, along with drinking a large glass of water, didn’t take too long—there were a few times he had to remind her about the bread because she was so chatty; at one point she went on an entertaining tangent about how those mythical half horse, half human creatures, centaurs, would wear pants, and even made him tear off a page from the notepad on the fridge, so she could draw him visuals on why the correct answer was the pants would go on the back part of their horse body.

Jesus Christ, he was so fucking in love with her.

He felt better after she finished her snack and drink with how her speech sounded clearer and that she didn’t seem as fucked up as when she called him from the bar—she was definitely still a little drunk since she couldn’t walk without stumbling, and her eyes were having a hard time staying open.

His next priority was making her comfortable. He led her to the bedroom, where he carefully replaced her dress and bra with his olive green t-shirt, leaving her in the shirt and her cute cotton panties she already had on that were covered in red hearts.

He took her to the bathroom, where he sat her up on the countertop and stood between her legs to keep her in place.

“Cielito,” he said, grabbing a wet wipe, “I’m gonna clean off your makeup, okay?”

There was a big smile on her face, her eyelids shut. “Mmmkay, you’re sooo nice.”

He pressed it to her face to begin removing her makeup. When that was done, he used a warm washcloth to dampen the skin he’d cleaned and grabbed her face wash off the counter, which was amongst her other skincare products. He used his fingertips to apply it to her skin, starting with her cheeks, then down her jaw to her chin, and back up to spread it along her nose before doing her forehead last.

He used the wet cloth to wipe away the cleanser when she spoke.

“Did you just wash my face?” she asked.

“Yeah?” He’d finished, and her skin was finally completely clean and looking dewy. Her face wash was put away, and his eyes squinted as he read the labels of the other products until he found what he needed and picked it up. He’d seen her do her skincare routine more times than he could count and had the basics down; the serums and special creams intimidated him, though.

His fingers were massaging the moisturizer into her skin along the same path they’d taken with the cleanser.

“Is that moisturizer?”

“Yes.”

Her breath stuttered, her mouth turning into a frown, and he matched her look.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, leaning toward the sink when he was done to wash his hands. He then dried them with the towel on his other side hanging on the wall.

Her bottom lip was trembling, and it worried him.

“You love me,” she whispered.

“I do,” he said and kissed her forehead. “I love you so fucking much.” His hands rubbed over her bare thighs.

She opened her eyes, and they were welling up, glistening under the lights above.

“You love me,” she repeated.

He held her cheeks. “Yes, sweetheart, I love you—I love you more than anything.”

Her voice was so small. “Why doesn’t my family love me?” With tears rolling down her face, her question shattered his heart into a million pieces.

“Oh, Cielito, baby.” His tone was soft, and he wrapped her up in his arms, hugging her tight, her face going into the crook of his neck. “They’re assholes and they don’t deserve you.”

Her body started shaking with sobs, and it had his chest squeezing tight, his eyes getting watery, wishing with every cell of his being to make her feel better.

She was the strongest and bravest woman he knew, who didn’t like to show any sign of weakness, and ever since her parents’ unexpected and unwanted visit earlier in the week, she had acted like she was fine in an attempt to hide her sadness.

The day after he was offered a large sum of money to leave her, they’d gone over to his father’s to use the fax machine in his office—the office was in its own little building across the driveway from his house—and she faxed Jerry, her parents’ lawyer, a typed letter that conveyed her disappointment in how they acted and also told them to never contact her again which she signed at the bottom. She changed her home and cell phone numbers and discussed with him possibly moving to the ranch earlier than they originally planned.

He’d tried to talk to her about everything, but she’d put on this smile he knew wasn’t genuine by the lack of its usual luster, and she was unable to keep the sorrow from showing in her eyes—it killed him how her usual happy glow had dimmed from her hurt. She’d reassure him she was okay, reminding him that her family made their choice and had to live with the consequences of it, but she also had to live with the consequences of their actions and deal with the emotions of never seeing or speaking to her loved ones again. He was expecting the façade to break at some point, and it took inebriation to cause her carefully crafted walls to finally crumble.

To add salt to their wounds, Javier was served at work the following day after the fax was sent, with a lawsuit for breach of contract from her mom and dad.

What were they trying to sue him for? Going against his word to not tell their daughter about their visit and proposition, thus breaching a verbal contract that was made. He’d laughed as he called Chucho’s attorney because they never fucking agreed with his terms and, instead, had countered with the damn prenup. They didn’t have a fucking case, and it was dropped by the next day.

Javier was so unbelievably pissed off at these people for what they’d done to the woman he loved that he knew there was no way in hell he’d ever be able to have a civil conversation with them again. It was possible it’d turn into a physical altercation, and he’d end up in jail, which he honestly thought would be worth it if he got the chance to punch her dad in his stupid fucking face.

“They’re my family,” she choked out, “they’re supposed to love me—why don’t they love me? Why am I so unlovable?”

“Mi amor, you’re not unlovable—I love you, Pop loves you, my tías (aunts), tíos (uncles), and primos (cousins) love you, Robyn loves you, mi mamá loves you—you’re loved. We love you, baby. Those people you’re related to are shitty and so blinded by their obsession with money and how they’re perceived that they wouldn’t know what unconditional love was if it bit them in the ass. They’re horrible fucking people, and you don’t need them, Cielito. You don’t.”

“But they’re my family!” she cried. Her tears were soaking through his shirt. “It doesn’t feel right that they aren’t going to be at our wedding, and it hurts so fucking much that they don’t support us!”

He kissed her hair, rubbing circles on her back with his palm. “I know, cariño (sweetheart). I know you’re hurt and that it’s fucked they won’t be there.” It was hard for him to swallow around the lump that’d formed, his eyes burning, and he squeezed them shut. “I’m sorry you fell in love with me and that I’m not good enough for them or good enough for you. I’m sorry for causing all this shit and the pain you’re feeling. I’m sorry, baby—it’s all my fault,” his voice cracked on the last word. He had to clear his throat. “But I’d do it all again because you deserve to be loved—you deserve all the fucking love in the world. Your family is supposed to love you because they’re your family, and our kids will love you no matter what because you’re their amazing mom, but me? I’m choosing to love you with every fucking thing I have because you’re incredible and so lovable.” His cheeks were wet from his own tears. “I love you, Cielito—I promise I’ll love you enough to make up for them. I promise I’ll love you so much you’ll get sick of me. I love you, Cielito. You’re my everything, and I hope my love’s enough…”

She sniffled loudly, her head rising, and he opened his eyes to meet her reddened ones, her face streaked with wetness.

Her voice was hoarse. “It’s not your fault,” she said, her hands in the small space between their bodies, clutching his button-up shirt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, and you’re enough—you’ve always been enough. It just hurts how hateful the people who are supposed to want me to be happy are toward what makes me happy.” More tears fell down her cheeks. “You’re what makes me happy, and they don’t accept you.” Her lower lip was wobbling. “I’m mad and sad, and I don’t want them to be a part of our lives, but it feels… it feels like they’ve died,” she said quietly. “It feels weird grieving over people who are still breathing, who are just a phone call or a plane ride away. I’m grieving them like they’re dead—are they dead to me? Why am I grieving what little relationship we had, yet also grieving the relationship we could’ve had? One where they welcomed you with open arms, and even if it wasn’t your favorite thing to do, we visited them once a year—you’d joke around with my brother, we’d fawn over his many children, and my parents would actually be impressed with what you did in Colombia and brag to their friends about their son-in-law who helped take down Pablo fucking Escobar and did take out the Cali cartel. Why am I so fucking sad about living people and a fantasy?”

He stroked his fingers along her cheek to cup it. “I don’t remember much from my mother’s funeral ‘cause my head was pretty fucked up, but there was something the Priest said that stuck with me. ‘Grief is just all the love you had for someone that suddenly has nowhere to go.’ So, it collects inside you, makes your chest ache, and leaks from your eyes—it fills all the places that were left empty by their loss. I’ll always feel my mom here—” He put a hand over his heart. “—but over time, a lot of my grief slowly disappeared, and you’ve made it easier to live with what’s left.” He took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is I don’t think what you’re feeling is weird. They might be alive, but you lost the only family you’ve ever known and are grieving the death of your relationship with them—now there’s all that love you still have for them that has no place to go, so it’s filling the emptiness they left behind, and it’s gonna take some time to heal.” He held her face in both of his hands. “It’s okay that you're sad, Cielito, but you don’t need to hide it from me or pretend that you’re okay because I know you’re not, and I don’t want you going through this alone. I’ll be your shoulder to cry on; I’ll hold you or talk things out with you. I’ll do whatever you need me to do to help ease your pain. Just please don’t shut me out.”

She was frowning, her eyes darting away as she spoke softly, “I knew if you saw I was upset, it’d make you sad, and I didn’t wanna make you sad so close to our wedding—this should be a happy time for us, but all I wanna do is lay in the dark and cry.”

“Baby?” His finger went under her chin to make her look at him, their gazes meeting. “Don’t worry about my feelings, and let me be there for you—I’d rather be sad with you than have you suffer alone in silence. Now, let me get you to bed so I can hold you while you cry.”

Her smile was small, and her eyes were glossy with tears. “I’d like that.” Suddenly, she looked panicked, her hand going to her mouth. “Move,” said her muffled voice. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“Shit.” He immediately helped her off the counter, for her to stumble the handful of steps and drop to her knees in front of the toilet, where she did, in fact, get sick.

It took a lot to gross out Javier—he grew up on a ranch, where he witnessed animal births and deaths regularly. Combine that with the horrible things he’d seen in Colombia, someone throwing up was a welcome change.

“Oh, mi probecita (my poor thing),” he said, spinning around to the wall opposite the bathroom vanity to get a small rag from the linen closet before moving back to the sink to wet it with cold water. “Déjame cuidarte, Cielito (Let me take care of you, Cielito). Sé que no te gusta enfermarte (I know you don’t like getting sick).”

She’d told him that when she had a little too much fun at a party playing drinking games with his primos (cousins) and found herself on his old bathroom floor, hugging porcelain with Javier there for support—they’d ended up being too drunk to drive home and spent the night in his childhood bed.

He wrung out the washcloth and walked over to her, a grunt leaving him and knees popping as he lowered himself to kneel next to her. He pressed the cloth to the back of her neck with one hand while the other rubbed comforting circles over her spine.

His tone was warm and gentle. “Get it all out, baby. I know it’s awful, and you hate it, but it’ll make you feel better.”

It didn’t take long for her stomach to empty and her heaving to stop. Her breaths were coming out ragged, and Javier took care of flushing the toilet. He scooted back and pulled her with him, the tiled floor cool underneath them, until he had room to stretch out his legs in front of him while she sat between them with her spine to his chest, her eyes closed.

He held the wet cloth to her forehead, the fingers of his free hand laced with hers, and kissed her hair.

“How are you feeling?” he whispered.

“I’m never drinking again,” she mumbled.

He huffed amusedly and smiled, placing a kiss behind her ear.

“Liar,” he said. “You said that last time you drank too much.”

“I mean it this time.”

“Uh-huh, right.”

“I do—this is embarrassing.”

“I think it’s good practice.”

He knew the look on her face was one of confusion without seeing it. “Practice for what?”

“If you get morning sickness.” He kissed the side of her neck.

“Oh, god,” she whined. “Why can’t we be seahorses?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Seahorses?”

“Yeah, male seahorses do the whole pregnancy and birth thing—that’s the fucking dream.”

He thought about it for a second, taking into account how badly he wanted kids, and it was really fucking weird to say this out loud, “If I could… I’d, uh, do that for us…”

He could hear her smiling. “You’d have my babies?”

Javier inhaled deeply and slowly let it out. “...yes.”

“I know the scenario is weirding you out, and it’s sweet of you to say you would, but I’m not sure if, given the opportunity, you’d actually do it—which is fine. Pregnancy and childbirth are scary, and it just proves that mothers are more badass than fathers.”

“You’re definitely more badass than me.”

“I appreciate you saying that, man who literally hunted bad guys for a living and had a bounty on his head.”

“You are, and since you’re taking the brunt of everything for us to have a kid, I promise I’ll do whatever possible, so all you’ll have to worry about is growing our baby and working.” She’d made it clear that when she got pregnant, she was still going to work until either the baby was born or the Doctor told her to stop.

“You know, I think we’re gonna crush being married and becoming parents.”

He smiled. “We are because we’re equals, even if you’re more badass than me.”

“We are equals, and thank you for acknowledging my badassery, man who helped eliminate two of the biggest cartels in the world.”

He snorted. “Smartass. How are you feeling?”

“A little drunk, sad, and I’ve got the spins.”

“Do you still feel sick?”

“Not really—just dizzy.”

“Do you want me to help you brush your teeth and then get you comfortable in bed?”

“That actually sounds wonderful because my mouth feels icky, and I’d like to cuddle.”

“Okay, mi amor.”

He started to move, but she stopped him with her hand on his arm as she said, “Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“You’re worth it.”

“Worth what…?”

“The pain and sadness over my family. You bring me so much love and happiness that I know it’ll outshine the hurt in no time, and this low I’m in is only temporary. You’re worth it and more than enough—your love is all I need. I love you.”

His throat was feeling tight, and he spoke softly. “I love you, too.” His arms went around her middle, and he didn’t squeeze as he hugged her to not hurt her stomach. He still wanted to hold her, his chin resting on her shoulder and their heads touching. “I’m happy I’m worth it to you, and just know that I’m yours; I’m here for you—good, bad, it doesn’t fucking matter because I’m not going anywhere, and we’ll get through anything together.” His lips pressed to her hair. “I tell you I love you a lot, but I hope you understand that I love you more than words can accurately describe—I love you, Cielito. I love you, and I promise I’ll be yours forever.”

Her hand came up behind her to press her fingers into his hair. “Yeah, we’re gonna crush being husband and wife.”

She made him smile. “Less than seventy-two hours, Mrs. Peña.”

“And I can’t fucking wait, Mr. Peña.”

The town of Laredo was buzzing with the news Javier Peña was getting married—yes, the same Javier Peña who left his first bride at the altar, had tumbled in the hay with many of the girls he’d gone to school with, and was apparently some kind of lothario in South America.

It really bothered you how fucking interested and judgmental the townspeople were of his sex life.

Your wedding with him was all anyone could talk about, and the bar was even taking bets on whether or not he’d disappear again, which was fucked up, but Chucho gladly put five hundred dollars on his son marrying you because he knew it was easy money. There was so much interest in how things would turn out that people you either barely knew or had never met approached you both like they were old friends of Javi’s to try and get invites—they were politely rejected with the excuse there wasn’t enough room.

According to Robyn, your wedding had the same amount of hype as your fiancé’s first, and though Javi hated that, you really hoped it annoyed the fuck out of his ex.

When you discussed how you wanted to tie the knot, your husband-to-be agreed the ceremony should be attended by a select few, and afterward, there’d be a big party to celebrate with the rest of your friends and family. Once the date was decided, the planning started immediately since there was so little time.

Chucho and his sisters would make a killing as wedding planners. They sat you and Javi down to get an idea of what you wanted the party to be like, a color scheme, and a budget, then told you guys not to worry and that they’d take care of everything. All the two of you had to do was approve things, hand over cash, and get your rings, which wasn’t too much of a hassle since you wanted simple matching gold bands.

Something you loved about the family you were marrying into was how they were all there for each other and so tight-knit—your fiancé's dad and tías managed to get all that was needed in less than a month with the help of his primos, and by calling in favors from their friends.

Javier and you didn't want anything extravagant. The party would occur in Chucho's backyard, under a giant white pole tent. Tables, chairs, and a dance floor had to be rented, and it was highway robbery how much the local place wanted to charge—Lorraine’s family frequently used them for their events, and you wouldn’t put it past her father to be the cause of such an exorbitant price just to spite Javi for wasting the absurd amount of money he spent on Lorraine’s first wedding. Luckily, on such short notice, tía Lupita’s oldest son, Matías, had a friend who knew a guy an hour away in Zapata who ran a party rental store and could get them everything at a reasonable price.

The tías, along with their daughters/daughters in law were handling food; Anna, who was friends with Javi in high school, had a bakery and was taking care of making the cake and Mexican wedding cookies that were tiny, buttery, ball-shaped, melt-in-your-mouth, powdered sugar-covered cookies, dotted with crushed nuts like pecans, walnuts, and almonds, and traditionally served at weddings and Christmas; tío Ángel and tía María’s husband were in charge of getting alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages, and Ángel’s youngest son Diego was going to DJ, as it was his side hustle and he’d been paid to do gigs at other parties in town and in a couple of big city clubs.

An hour and a half before you were to be wed, practically every family member of Javi's who lived locally was at the ranch. Many had been there all day setting up the backyard or in the kitchen making food, and every time you tried to help cook, you were shooed away, but your presence was wanted outside to instruct those putting things together on how to arrange and decorate everything inside and out of the tent, and that ended up being what you did until it was time to start getting ready.

Most of Javier’s family and you were there, yet your groom was nowhere to be found and hadn’t set foot on the property in a good sixteen hours.

In that time, you hadn’t seen or talked to him either, and your last interaction was the previous night when he dropped you off at his dad’s—that’s where you spent the night, and thank goodness, Chucho had already gone to sleep when Javi helped you get settled in his old room, because he had a hard time leaving and it led to him fucking you slow and passionately in his ridiculously squeaky bed one last time.

Why were you staying at the ranch? The two of you, encouraged by Javi’s dad, made the decision not to see each other on the day of your nuptials. Since your almost father-in-law would be driving you to where the ceremony was taking place, it made sense for you to sleepover and get ready at his house—the moment Javi left you there in his room that smelled like him, under his sheets that smelled like him, in one of his white t-shirts that smelled like him, you realized it was going to be really difficult and a test of your strength to be away from him for so long, and you both knew, if you spoke even a single word over the phone, the resolve between you would shatter, and he’d be back at Chucho’s for you in record time.

That led to the lack of communication and him getting ready alone at your shared apartment.

You were sitting in a kitchen chair you’d brought into Javi’s old bathroom, wearing a white satin robe cinched tight over your clean body, fresh from the shower and the special undergarments you'd chosen for the big day. Robyn was in front of you in her matching black robe as she did your makeup, something she offered to do and you happily accepted due to how good she was at it. She'd already smoothed out your complexion and hid any imperfections; currently, she was working on your eye shadow.

"Between you and Javi," she said, her attention focused on what she was doing, "your kids are gonna have some pretty eyes."

You smiled. "I think his eyes are prettier, and just imagine tiny versions of them; they'll give me the sad puppy dog eyes, and I'll have no choice but to give them whatever they want."

She giggled. "Your babies will be spoiled."

"I have already accepted that fact—hopefully, they'll take after their dad and be spoiled, but sweet, caring, and well-behaved, and not some little assholes." You frowned. "My brother was a spoiled asshole."

She paused what she was doing to meet your eyes. "Hey, now, we agreed not to think or speak about those people today. We aren't lettin' them sour the best day of your life so far."

"I know," you sighed.

It was the right choice to sever your ties with your family, and you had no regrets; that didn't mean it wasn't hard or hurt any less. Especially today, with it being your wedding day—your mom wasn’t there to help you get ready, nor your dad for a father-daughter dance. They should’ve been there supporting you on the happiest day of your life. Instead, they destroyed whatever relationship you had with them, and it hurt a lot. Even suspecting for years that they had no love for you didn't ease much of the pain of discovering it was true. You felt stupid for caring about these people when they cared so little for you, and you weren't sure why you hadn't cut them out sooner. Was it naively thinking they'd change? Or the ingrained notion that even if you didn't like them, you had to suck it up because they were your family?

It didn't matter now because what they'd done and how they treated the man you loved was unforgivable. There was no chance in hell you’d ever trust them again, and you didn’t want the new life you were starting with Javi to be tainted by their toxicity.

Robyn's cell phone was sitting on the bathroom counter next to your open makeup bag, and it started ringing—nobody wanted to bother you while you got ready, so Robyn was made the point of contact to either deal with what was going on or talk it out with you.

She straightened and turned around to pick it up.

"Why's he callin’?" she mumbled, hitting the accept button and putting the phone to her ear. "What's shakin' bacon? Robyn speakin,’" she answered. "...yes," she told them, "I'm doin' her makeup right now... No... No, you can't... Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? No one is supposed to see her before the wedding... You're a fuckin' liar, and Chucho wouldn’t let you in here anyway... You're ridiculous," she said in exasperation. "But if you swear, on your mama's grave, you won't peek, then I'll allow it... Okay, fine. Give us a sec, then quietly knock—I don't want anyone knowin' you’re here... bye."

She set the phone down and the eyeshadow palette, spinning on her heel to face you and grab your hand.

"Was that who I think it was?" you asked.

She was smiling. "If you’re thinkin’ someone annoyin’ who could get me in more trouble than an armadillo on the highway with your father-in-law, yes—come with me."

Robyn tugged you up to stand and led you into the bedroom, where you both came to a stop.

There were two large windows on the opposite wall beside each side of the bed, sitting half a foot above the floor with closed blinds and red curtains over them. A soft knocking sounded on the one in front of you. You followed Robyn and watched her push apart the curtains, pulling on the string to raise the blinds. Her body blocked your view as she unlocked the window and shoved it up.

"How many fingers am I holdin' up?" she asked the person outside.

"I don't know," Javi answered. "I can't see shit with this thing on."

The sound of his voice had your heart beating faster.

"Good," Robyn said, moving out of your way to look at you.

With the window's position, you could only see your fiancé from the thighs up, wearing black tuxedo pants and a white long-sleeved dress shirt tucked into them. Your sleep mask covered his eyes, and there was a loose regular tie and bow tie around his neck that matched the color of his slacks, the ends of each resting over both sides of his chest. Aside from his perfectly trimmed mustache, his face was freshly shaved, and he looked unbelievably handsome as always.

"This annoyin' man—" Robyn pointed at him with her thumb. "—says it's an emergency—he needs you to tell him how you want his hair done and which tie you’d like."

It made you smile because his hair was already how you wanted it—you had given him a haircut a couple of days ago, so the sides looked nice and clean cut down, and he combed the longer top and bangs to swoop over to the other side of his head, holding it all in place with his favorite pomade, that kept his hair soft.

He also knew damn well which tie you’d chosen.

It had you feeling gooey that he couldn't wait any longer to see you.

You walked toward him, and Robyn made herself scarce by disappearing into the bathroom. At the window, you got down on your knees to make it easier to talk to him, Javier still standing above you with his height.

"An emergency, huh?" you asked, and he smiled. Taking his outstretched hand, you guided him closer.

“Are we alone?" he countered

His palms began mapping your body, sliding over your arms and shoulders and along your neck up to your head, where he avoided your face but carefully felt your ears and hair.

"Yep."

“You feel beautiful.”

Air huffed from your nose in amusement. “Well, you look handsome, even without being fully dressed.” You rubbed your hands up his thighs to rest them on his tiny hips. “Your hair looks perfect,” you continued. “Did you really forget which tie I wanted?”

He smirked. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “It was the only way I knew I could get Robyn to betray Pop’s orders and let me see you; well, talk to you.”

Your eyebrows creased. “Orders? What orders?”

“He might’ve made it sound like a suggestion, the whole us not seeing each other today, but Pop is super fucking superstitious like mi mamá was—he doesn’t think he is—believe me, he is, and it made him feel better we agreed to do it. So, he has everyone out here on strict orders to keep us apart, including Robyn. One of my tíos is sitting at the end of the kitchen table right now so he can watch the front and back door; another is on the living room couch to stay close to my room in case he’s gotta intercept me. You’re being guarded like a fucking high-security witness with a hit out on them. I had to park my truck down the road and have Seb hide me in the trunk of his Bronco to get here without anyone seeing.”

“That is insane.”

He sighed. “At least Pop kinda gave us a choice; my mom wouldn’t have. She wouldn’t have let us take any risk of getting bad luck because I saw you.”

“It’s sweet and extremely intense.”

“Yeah, and I can’t see you, so we’re good.”

You smiled. “Gotta love loopholes.”

He was smiling, too. “Yeah. I missed you so much. I just needed to touch you and talk to you.” He grabbed your hands off his waist, stroking his thumbs over the back of them. “I couldn’t sleep last night without you—even when I tried sleeping on your side.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep either, and I missed you, too. I’m happy you’re here so we can talk. I’ve got butterflies in my tummy, and I can’t tell if they’re nerves or excitement.”

“Maybe both?”

“Could be. Don’t know what I have to be nervous about.”

“I’m nervous about having to say my sappy bullshit in front of other people and have it recorded.”

“That’s actually a good point—if we leave now, we can make it to the courthouse before it closes and skip all of that.”

He huffed out a breath. “It’s too late for that, mi amor. Pop’s excited about being a part of the ceremony and getting to walk you to me.”

There wouldn’t be an aisle per se, just a small trail of rose petals leading you to where Javi would be standing in front of the tree. Chucho cried happy tears when you asked him to give you away.

When your soon-to-be father-in-law heard about your parents' impromptu visit, you’d never seen him so angry—his face had gone red, and he went off in Spanish about what terrible people they were. He was so mad he repeatedly tried to get you to give him their phone number so he could tell them himself how lowly he thought of them and that they were awful parents; he wanted them to know that their loss was his gain and you were his daughter now; you would finally be loved and cherished by a proud parent and that it was God’s will you came into his and his son’s lives. He also needed them to be aware that their pride and greed had turned them villainous, and he’d be praying that they someday realized the error of their ways and saw you for the blessing you were.

His anger toward those who wronged you was fueled by a protective father’s love for their child, and it made you incredibly emotional that after so many years without one, you had a parent who loved you unconditionally, wanted nothing more than your happiness, and would selflessly fight battles for you.

Chucho was the best dad you’d ever had, and you were happy that in less than two hours, you’d share a last name with him, too.

“Ugh, you’re right,” you said, “Pop deserves his moment. Hey, babe?”

“Yes, mi amor?”

“When you’re saying your sappy bullshit, focus on me. It'll just be the two of us in that moment, no one else, and believe me when I say all of my tears will be happy.”

His smile was brighter than the sun. He lifted your hand to kiss each of your knuckles, saying when he finished. “All of my tears will be happy, too, and you do the same thing—it’s just us, nobody else. Will you, uh, tie my bow tie?”

His question had you smiling. “I’d love to.”

He pulled off the regular tie and stuffed it into his pocket, bending his knees and crouching with a grunt to put his neck within reach. You took the ends of the bow tie, your attention focused on what you were doing.

"This is why you had me learn how to tie a bow tie, huh?" You started going through the steps—ensuring one end was longer than the other, then crossing it over the shorter end, bringing it up from under the loop and through it.

"Yes."

The bow tie had taken shape, and you were almost done.

"What was your plan if Robyn didn't let you see me?"

"I would've called you and gotten you to sneak away."

You finished tying it, and it wasn't perfect, but it didn't look too bad.

"And I would've with zero hesitation," you said, patting the bow tie. "You look so good." You leaned out to peck him on the cheek.

"Not as good as you."

You huffed out air. "Obviously, you can't see me because only half of my makeup is done—there's literally eyeshadow on only one side. I look like a mess."

Your hands were on his shoulders, and he rubbed his hands back and forth on your arms.

"A beautiful mess."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm in love."

"I'm in love, too—madly, as a matter of fact. Oh, your dad took me out for breakfast this morning in the Mustang. He filled up the tank on our way home, and when we got back before everyone came over, he polished it, so I think it’s safe to assume you’re gonna get to drive it at some point in the next twenty-four hours—you can’t see, but I’m wagging my eyebrows.” You were.

His lips pouted, and his hands remained still. “Who drove to and from the diner?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I just wanna know.”

“But why does it matter?”

“You’re deflecting.”

“No, I’m just curious why you need to know who drove.”

His shoulders slumped. “I think I have my answer—how many times has he let you drive it now? Was that four or five?”

“Six. He let me drive with him in the passenger seat and Robyn in the back when we went wedding dress shopping.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you get weird like you are now that he lets me drive it—I can’t help that he thinks my cooking is Mustang-driving-worthy.”

“But you didn’t make him anything when you went wedding dress shopping…”

“No, but he was so touched I wanted him there to help me pick out a dress, he thought the special occasion warranted me getting to drive.”

“He didn’t let me drive the Mustang when we went to find a tux…” he grumbled.

“I’m sorry to break it to you, babe, but my wedding dress I bought and am going to save in case our future daughter wants to wear it one day is a little more special than your rented tux that has been worn many times before you by strangers. Now, stop being jealous, and get excited that you’re finally going to drive it, and unlike me, you’ll be allowed to drive it wherever the fuck you want, so there, you have one up on me.”

He seemed to be thinking long and hard about that last bit.

“That is better…”

“It sure is. Lean in and kiss me. It’ll make you less grumpy.”

“As much as I’m dying to kiss you right now, I, um, wanna wait, so it’s kinda special…”

“I respect that and understand what you mean. Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“I’m really fucking happy we’re getting married today, and I hope you like my dress.”

He smiled brightly. “I’m really fucking happy we’re getting married, too. I’m gonna love your dress.”

“I hope so.”

“Baby, you could show up in a paper bag, and I’d be blown away.”

“The bar is so low. Do you wanna feel what I’ll be wearing under the dress?”

The pink of his tongue quickly peeked between his lips, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

His timbre deepened. “Yes.”

You poked your head out the window to ensure no one was around, then loosened the belt, holding your robe shut. Taking his hand, you started at your shoulder beneath the silk, letting his fingertips graze over the bare skin, trailing them down to the lacy cup of your strapless bra. He couldn’t help himself and palmed your covered breast before you moved his hand once more to continue the journey downward, where he got to feel the smooth, stretchy material hugging your middle; you let his fingers find that the spandex covering the warmth between your thighs, too.

“Not very sexy,” you said. “Well, the bra is cute. The rest is so I don’t look lumpy in the dress or have panty lines.”

He was about to say something, but you spoke before he had a chance. “Yes, Javier, I know you love my natural body, including the bits I don’t, but I wanna look my very best, and that means Spanx.”

He was frowning. “Are they uncomfortable?”

It warmed your heart that he was concerned for your comfort.

"Not really," you answered truthfully. "They're like my bicycle shorts, so stretchy and breathable. Will it make you feel better to know I have sexier bottoms I'm gonna wear when I change into my comfier dress after food and our first dance?"

He didn't know what your wedding dress looked like, but he had seen the one you were changing into after it.

His free hand went to the window frame, feeling along it until he found where the opened window stopped and ducked his head under it. His face was close to yours, one of his palms still between your legs, the other carefully sliding up the edge of your open robe.

"I'd prefer you wear no panties," he rasped, pulling the silk off your shoulder. His mouth pressed to the newly revealed skin, the soft kiss of his lips and tickle of his mustache, paired with his hand on your pussy beginning to rub, had sparks dancing down your spine. "It's gonna make me hard," his words were muffled between kisses as he moved across your shoulder toward your neck, "seeing you in your wedding dress.” Your fingers went into the hair at the back of his head, his spare hand palming your breast. “I'm gonna lose my fucking mind hearing you say 'I do.'" He was kissing and nibbling at your throat now, the added friction of his palm at the crux of your thighs making it hard to think. "It's gonna drive me fucking crazy that you're my wife—my wife,” he repeated against your throat. “And I’ll be your husband—I already want you, but all I’ll be able to think about after we’re pronounced husband and wife is getting you alone, and if you’re not wearing panties, it’ll make it easier for me to lift up that pretty—“

“No, Javier!” Robyn interrupted, and you felt cold water mist against your bare skin, the spray bottle hissing near your ear. “Bad!”

“Fuck!” he yelped, his head narrowly missing the bottom of the raised window as he pushed back from you so fast you’d think he was burned. His expression had turned grumpy as he stood. “What the fuck was that for?”

“I promised your daddy I wouldn’t let you see her,” she said, looking mad. “But out of the kindness of my heart—” She pressed a hand to the left side of her chest. “—I went against my word to your father, and how do you repay me? By wastin’ time gettin’ fresh with your fiancée when I’m riskin’ your daddy bein’ madder than a box of frogs at me for not doin’ what I said I’d do—you’re bein’ real rude Javier Peña, exploitin’ my niceness and I’d appreciate you sayin’ your goodbyes, and bein’ on your way.”

His eyes were covered, but it was visible how his face shifted from grumpy to guilty.

“I’m sorry, Robyn,” he said.

“Apology accepted. Say goodbye, and then we gotta get back to work.”

“Okay,” he replied.

The other woman headed back to the en suite. Leaning forward, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to step toward you.

“Thank you for coming to see me or, you know, talk to me,” you told him.

He smiled, squeezing your palm. “There was zero chance of me waiting to talk to you until the wedding. I love you too much.”

“I’m happy you did, and I love you, too.”

He lifted your hand and kissed the back of it.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I know you will, and I’ll be there.”

Javi sighed. “I better go. Bye, Cielito,” he said and didn’t move.

“You’re gonna see me in a little bit—get going, babe.”

He sighed again. “Fine. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

This time, he quickly pecked the back of your hand and started quietly walking along the front of the house. You assumed he had taken off the sleep mask to sneak away.

You closed and locked the window, shutting the blinds and curtains, feeling happy that you'd be seeing him again soon.

It took some time to finish getting ready, as you wanted to look perfect. Robyn did a fantastic job on your makeup, and your hair turned out well. When you saw yourself all dolled up and wearing your dress, you almost couldn't believe it was your reflection staring back at you in the mirror.

The white, silky satin hugged your curves as it cascaded to the ground to pool around your feet, the fabric having some stretch to it so your movements weren’t hindered. The neckline dipped in a slight V, your upper back bare from under your armpits up, and thin straps went over your shoulders connecting the two sides.

With how the satin draped over your figure, perfectly fitting the contours of your body, then flared out below your knees, it had a Morticia Addams feel to it—change the color of it to black, add sleeves, and you’d find it in her closet.

Javi was right. You looked so amazing that he was absolutely going to get a boner when he saw you.

And wasn't that just the sweetest thing?

A man so in love with you he gets aroused even when you're fully clothed because he thinks you're that pretty. He was also the kind of guy who sometimes got too excited from a kiss, and you had to wait a little while in the car for him to calm down…

"What do you think?" Robyn asked beside you. She'd put on her dress—a lavender-colored, A-line, floor-length gown with ruffled short sleeves and a V-neckline that, as an added bonus, had pockets.

You met her eyes in the mirror. "That I've never looked more beautiful—if you ever wanted to get out of nursing, you'd be a fantastic makeup artist."

She smiled, her full lips painted in rose-pink lipstick. "Thank you, but I prefer doin' it as a hobby and bein' able to help my friends out."

"Well, thank you for making me look insanely pretty."

"All I did was enhance what was already there, girl—Javi's gonna lose it."

"I hope he does."

A knock sounded from the bedroom door, and without a word, your friend went to see who it was.

"Is it okay for Chucho to see you?" Robyn called from the other room.

"Yes!" you answered, and nerves started fluttering in your belly over what he'd think.

Within seconds, your father-in-law was standing in the doorway, where you faced him with a grin.

"Dios mío (My God)," he gasped, his hand going to his mouth, “eres tan hermosa (you’re so beautiful)!” His dark eyes behind his glasses started to shine.

He was wearing light grey slacks, a white long-sleeved dress shirt, and a tie in the same shade as Robyn’s dress resting against his chest from a perfect Windsor knot at his throat, his camera dangling from a strap around his neck; as usual, his long hair was pulled back in a low ponytail.

“Ese vestido es perfecto (That dress is perfect)!” he said. “Estoy tan feliz de que lo hayas elegido porque te ves increíble (I’m so happy you chose it because you look amazing). Javi se va a volver loco (Javi is going to go crazy)."

"You really think so?" you asked, looking down at your outfit.

"Oh, yes." He nodded. "He's not going to leave you alone. We'll have to get a crowbar to pry him away from you."

You giggled, looking at him. "Yeah, I have a feeling he's gonna be stuck to me all night."

"When isn't he?"

The question made you laugh. "Touché."

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to," the older man started, "but I went through mi amor's jewelry to see if there was anything I thought you might want to wear—it could be your something old—” You hadn’t figured out what to do for something old; your something new was the perfume Javi got you for Christmas that you saved for today so he’d have a scent memory. Something borrowed was Chucho’s land, where your ceremony and party would take place, and something blue was a garter from Robyn around your thigh under your dress. “—and I found this necklace,” he said.

That's when you realized he was holding a large, thin, black leather box in his other hand.

Chucho walked closer to you, holding it in a palm, while the other lifted the hinged top—the necklace was made up of many silver waves connected together, purple sapphires resting in each dip, that you counted seventeen in total. It was stunning, the metal and precious gemstones glimmering beneath the lighting.

"I gave this to mi Antonia on our twentieth anniversary," he told you. "We'd visit her family in Mexico two, three times a year, and always for Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead). On one visit, she saw this necklace and fell in love with it—it's Taxco silver and known for its high quality; many pieces made with it are crafted by hand and marked, so you know it's real. She wouldn't let me buy it for her because she thought it was too expensive for something she’d hardly wear, but the way she looked at it, I had to get it for her anyway, so I did and surprised her with it on our anniversary; she yelled at me," he chuckled, smiling. "Then had me put it on her and covered my face in kisses." He sighed fondly. "I think if she were here today, this is what she would've chosen for you, too—if you don’t like it, we can go upstairs for you to pick something else out..."

"No, Pop," you said quickly, meeting his gaze. There was a lump in your throat at the thought he'd put into finding you this piece of jewelry. "It's perfect, and I'd love to wear it. Can you help me put it on, please?"

"Yes, Mija." He set the open box on the bathroom counter and picked up the necklace with the same care as you would a newborn. Turning so your back was to him, he had an end in each hand as his arm went over your head to get the silver and sapphires around the front of your neck, clasping it at the back. He stepped away, and you faced him again.

There was a smile on his face, and his eyes were soft. "Mi hija hermosa (My beautiful daughter).” The sentence had your breath hitching. “¿Ella es preciosa, no (She is gorgeous, right)?" he asked Robyn. She understood Spanish but had a hard time speaking it.

The other woman was beside him, grinning. "She sure is," she agreed. "A real stunner."

"I'm so happy this day has finally come." Tears were brimming on his eyelids, and he took off his glasses to wipe them away. "I just wish mi amor was here to see our son marry such a wonderful woman."

Your eyes were burning as you held back from crying. He'd put his eyeglasses back on, and you stepped forward to hug him, being careful of your makeup. His arms went around you, squeezing you back.

"I wish she was here, too," you said. "At least we've got you, the best dad in the whole world. I love you, Pop."

"I love you, too, Mija. Thank you for loving my son and making him the happiest I've ever seen. We're blessed to have you in our lives, and I can't tell you how much joy I feel that you've decided to take our last name; I think it suits you better."

"I think it suits me better, too."

“You’re gonna kill the grass if you keep walking back and forth like that,” the other man told him.

They were at the oak tree on the hill, and the sun was getting close to setting. Javier had his whole outfit on: a black tuxedo and bow tie, white shirt, and lavender pocket square—he’d borrowed a pair of his father’s golden cufflinks, and one of his mother’s violet roses was pinned to his lapel. He didn’t have a cigarette to calm his nerves, so he was pacing, but the comment had him stopping with a sigh.

"Are you wearing a hole in the ground 'cause you're being impatient?" Steve continued. "Or are you nervous?"

His gaze went to his best friend, who was standing in front of him holding a small, white, heart-shaped pillow adorned in lace that went around the edges—there were two golden rings, one bigger than the other, secured to the top of it by a satin ribbon tied into a bow. The older man was dressed in a charcoal-colored suit he regularly wore to work, with a new tie provided by Javier that matched his lavender pocket square. Nate was in a carrier on his back; the parents put the one-year-old in a onesie that made him look like he was wearing a tuxedo and some dark pants, the child happily chewing on a football-shaped teething toy.

His hands went to his hips as he frowned. “Both?” Javier answered. “I can’t wait to see her, and I’m nervous about saying shi-stuff—“ He quickly corrected himself with the children present. “—I usually save for when we’re alone.”

Steve was giving him a weird look. “My kids are here. This ‘stuff’ is appropriate for them to hear, right…? It’s not anything… lewd…?”

Javier’s eyes narrowed. “No, it’s not anything like that, you judgemental pri-prude.”

The blonde man’s free hand went up in a placating gesture. “Hey, you said you save it for when you’re alone, and y’all have stayed at our house—any time the two of you were alone, you… folded laundry.”

“Folded laundry…?”

“Javi,” Connie said to get his attention, and he looked over to where she was fussing with the purple bow in Olivia’s hair. “You know when there’s a big load of laundry that requires two adults to fold, and they have to lock the bedroom door so there aren’t any distractions.”

Oh, ‘folding laundry’ was their code word for sex—that was smart.

“Mom and Dad have been folding a lot of laundry together lately,” Olivia added with a quizzical expression. “I didn’t know it was so hard to do alone—the baskets don’t seem that big.”

Javier smiled, his head turning from one parent to the other, seeing they were avoiding his eyes and blushing—good for them, fucking regularly.

“It’s more satisfying to do laundry with someone, so it gets done quicker,” he said.

“Doesn’t seem to get done quicker,” she replied.

Steve cleared his throat before he spoke. “Anyways, enough about laundry—what are you planning to say that’s got you nervous, Jav?”

He stopped smiling and scratched his mustache. “Uh, like, lovey-dovey, romantic crap…”

His best friend’s smile grew into a shit-eating grin. “What, like, super cheesy stuff? Are you gonna read the poetry you wrote about her eyes in your diary or something?”

Javier ground his teeth.

"Leave him alone, Steve," Connie said. "In our wedding video, before I walked down the aisle, you were clearly figuring out where all of the nearest exits were in the church. It’s refreshing and sweet that Javi’s gonna be vulnerable in front of everyone for the woman he loves.”

"I was checking where the exits were in case of a fire!" Steve rebuked. "All those candles they lit made me nervous."

"If that's what you tell yourself." She didn’t sound convinced.

“I was! Why did we need to be here forty-five minutes early?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “I was really enjoying the food your aunties were feeding us back at the house.”

There wasn’t a chance for Javier to respond; the answer to the question was he wanted to show how eager he was to marry the woman he actually loved and avoid any chance of being late—it also was a ‘fuck you’ to the people betting against him at the bar.

"Tío, tío!" The three-year-old Stevie shouted, running up to him; he was holding a Ninja Turtle action figure he'd been playing with in the grass.

Javier smiled, his attention moving to the child, crouching to be at his level. "Yes, mi principito (my little prince)?"

"We match!" His tiny finger pointed at his little light purple bow tie over his white dress shirt. The kid refused to wear a regular tie like his dad, and the only way they got him to agree to the clip-on bow tie was by telling him Javier had one, too.

His friends weren't by any means struggling with money, but Javier and his wif-fiancée, sent them a check to pay for their trip to Texas, which included flights, lodging, a rental car, and clothes for the wedding since they wanted those at the ceremony to match—Olivia got a new dress and so did her mom in the shade of lavender everyone else was wearing.

The family had gotten into town the day before. Cielito and Javier had shown them around town and taken them out to the ranch where Chucho and Connie finally got to meet in person—there was a lot of hugging—and that evening, they all, including his father, went out to dinner. Today, he’d spent more time with his friends before they all needed to get ready, then they followed him out to the ranch to distract Chucho while Javier covertly went to see, or, well, talk to his bride-to-be—the sleep mask was Connie’s idea, and she thought them sneakily meeting without anyone knowing was incredibly romantic.

"We do, bud,” he said. “You look so cool." He gently patted the child's arm.

Stevie was grinning. "I'm gonna walk from Mommy to Daddy and give him the rings?"

The hill they were on wasn’t too steep; Olivia was fine with walking up it from the bottom—she was excited to do it. For her younger brother, it was too much for him, so Connie was going to stand with Stevie a little before the land evened out at the top to signal when it was time for him to walk to his father.

"Yes," he nodded. "You'll walk while holding the pillow with the rings and hand it to your dad."

"It's a special job?"

"It's very special."

"Sissy's gonna throw flowers?"

"Yes, flower petals."

"It's a special job, too?"

"It is. They’re both important. Thank you for helping me, mi principito (my little prince).” He ruffled the child’s dirty blonde hair, making Stevie laugh.

Javier’s primos, Sebastián, and his tía Rebeca's daughter, Angelita, were taking care of the videography and photography, respectively. Seb had the video camera Javier bought, and Angelita had her own gear since she was a professional photographer—when you had fourteen cousins on just your father’s side, the odds were in your favor, one of them could either help with what you needed or knew somebody who could.

Photos were taken of Javier with the Murphys when they all first got there, and then his primos told everyone to pretend they weren’t there while they got candids and views of the scenery—his cousins arrived together in Sebastián’s SUV.

“Hey, Javi?” Seb said as he walked toward him.

"I gotta talk to him, buddy," Javier told Stevie. "I'll be back." He rose up with a groan, taking a few steps to reach his primo. "Yeah?" he answered.

When camcorders first came out, they were big and had to be rested on the operator’s shoulder, but the one Seb was using, he held in one of his hands with the side pulled open to see the little screen that previewed what was being recorded. The younger man hit a button on the video camera to pause what he’d been doing. “Do you want me to interview people?” Seb asked. “Ask how they like the wedding, if they have any advice, that kinda stuff.”

"Uh." He thought about it and Cielito would probably enjoy that. "Sure.”

"Perfecto (Perfect)." Seb nodded, hitting the button to record again.

Javier immediately regretted his decision when the camera was put in his face.

“It’s your big day, primo,” Seb said. “How are you feeling?”

“Um, excited and nervous.”

“The audience would like to hear how you met your bride.”

Javier smiled, heat rising on his cheeks. “At the grocery store, in the produce department—I guess it was obvious I was struggling to pick out a tomato, and she came to my rescue and showed me what to look for.”

“What was your first impression of her?”

He scratched at the back of his neck while looking away. “Uh, that she was sweet for helping me out, and beautiful. I could tell she had a good, kind heart and—” he lowered his voice so the children wouldn’t hear him. “—no fuckin’ clue who I was.” He chuckled. “I was hooked from that first conversation; an instant connection—there was something about her that told me she was going to be someone important to me, and I’d never felt that with anyone else.”

“What’d you do for your first date?”

His immediate thought was what happened after the bar, and his face felt hot. “We, uh, went out for drinks.”

“When did you know you loved her?”

He looked at the camera. “Honestly? Our third date. We were dancing in her kitchen to “¿Y cómo es él?”—”

“Mi mamá loves that song,” Seb said.

Javier huffed, smiling. “All my tías do. So, uh, we were dancing in her kitchen, and I realized she was the woman I was going to marry. I could see us having a future and was picturing what our Sunday mornings would look like—which, they’re exactly how I imagined—yeah, I knew I loved her on the third date and that we were going to get married one day.” He cleared his throat. “When my dad tells the story of the first time he saw my mother, he says his gut told him she was the one, and I always thought he was talking out of his—ass,” he whispered. “But it’s real and crazy to know deep down inside that you’ve found the person who completes you—feeling that confirmed she was it and that I truly did love her.”

“I think I know the feeling you’re talking about, and it’s great.”

“It is, and at your wedding, I’m gonna grill you on camera about it.”

“Hey, your wife is gonna eat this up, and you both want kids; think about your hijos (children) watching this one day and seeing how much you love their mom on your wedding day.”

The thought of sitting on the couch surrounded by his wife and kids, watching this wedding video, made him soften to the point he was putty—he wanted it to be a reality one day.

“What’s something you want to say to the bride before you get married?” Seb asked.

“I love you, and today is the best day of my entire fucking life—”

“—Eso es un dólar en la jarra, tío (That’s a dollar in the jar, uncle).” Olivia interrupted.

She meant the swear jar.

Javier sighed. “Lo siento, mi tesorito (I’m sorry, my little treasure). As I was saying, mi Cielito, I love you, and today is the best day of my entire freaking life. Happy isn’t enough to describe how I feel about us starting this new chapter of being husband and wife, and I’m looking forward to our future full of love, happiness, and hopefully, a lot of kids.” He smiled big. “I love you more than anything, and I will tell you that every day for the rest of our lives. Te amo, mi amor (I love you, my love).” To end the sentence, he blew a kiss at the camera lens.

In order to get to where Javi was, it involved Chucho driving you off-road, and the trip was bumpy; you sat in the passenger seat, and Robyn was in the backseat, and because your father-in-law was probably as nervous as you were about speaking in front of people, he held your hand the entire way.

The previous day, when you brought the Murphys out to the ranch, you’d taken them to where you were going to be wed to do a quick rehearsal on how things would go; Olivia was beyond ecstatic to be a flower girl, and Stevie didn’t really understand what was going on, except that his tío Javi had an important job for him.

Chucho pulled up and parked at the base of the hill with your door opposite it so you couldn’t get a closer look at everyone atop it. The butterflies in your belly were flapping around so hard you thought they might get out, while your mind was racing with what could go wrong like you falling—that was a reason you wore flats, but with how much of your dress touched the ground, there was a chance of it tripping you up. Or what if Javi’s handsomeness made your brain stop working, and you couldn’t speak a single coherent word? Something that has happened before. God, your heart was pounding, and you thought you might be having a minor panic attack due to your vision starting to tunnel—a small silver flask was held up in front of your face, the cap already twisted off.

“Take a drink, Mija,” Chucho’s soothing voice said. “It’ll calm you down.”

The man was a lifesaver.

You grabbed it, taking a big swig, and your face pinched as the whiskey burned down your throat—from the taste and smoothness, you recognized it as Javi’s favorite, which was top shelf, a little spendy, and probably came from the bottle your fiancé gifted his dad to thank him for his help in getting you to give the green light to start your family.

The effect the alcohol had on you was almost immediate, feeling all of the tense muscles in your body relax at the same time. Your father-in-law took the flask from you and knocked it back with a drink of his own.

“Robyn?” he asked when he finished, holding it up for her to reach.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she replied, accepting it from him to take a gulp.

“I couldn’t see Antonia before our wedding,” he said, his head turned your way, “or talk to her. We were kept apart at the church, and I was so nervous that I was shaking like a leaf.” He chuckled. “Not about getting married, but having to stand in front of so many people. It had to be minutes before I needed to go out with the priest that mi amor’s maid of honor, her best friend, found me to give me an opened bottle of tequila and a note written by Antonia that read, ‘Mi amor, un trago para el coraje (My love, a drink for courage). Yo también necesitaba uno (I needed one, too).’ And she left a lipstick stamp of her lips at the bottom, where she kissed the paper. I won’t deny it. I kissed where her lips had been and took two shots.”

The story made you smile.

Chucho had put on a jacket that matched his light grey pants, and you watched as he pulled something from the inside pocket. It was a small folded piece of paper that’d been ripped from the notepad he kept by the answering machine at his house to write down messages. He passed it over to you, and you unfolded it, finding Javi’s scratchy handwriting. You read what he wrote:

Cielito, You said you were never drinking again, but I think this can be an exception since you’re probably freaking the fuck out about embarrassing yourself like I am. I’m worried I’ll see how beautiful you are and forget how to talk, or my brain will stop working. Have a drink to calm your nerves, and know it will all be okay because we’re doing this together. I love you, Your husband

The note was touching, especially since he knew how you’d be feeling.

“When did he write this?” you asked Chucho, whose eyes you met, the man smiling.

“When he met up with Connie and all of them at the house before they came out here. I’d given him the flask when he got there as a gift, but he told me to keep it for you and asked if he could write you a message. It reminded me so much of his mother, I couldn’t say no.”

“Thanks, Pop. I needed it.”

“I know you did, Mija.” He patted your leg.

When Javier saw his father's truck in the distance, his heart rate increased, and by the time they parked at the bottom of the hill, his heart was beating so fast that he was sure it was going to beat right out of his chest.

With where he was standing at the tree and how the land sloped, he didn’t have a visual. Steve was beside him with Nate still in the carrier, Connie and Stevie, who was holding the pillow with the rings, had walked to the top of the hill and were looking down it, probably watching Olivia, who booked it to join the people at the truck. Seb was near Steve's wife and kid with the camcorder and a battery-powered boombox on the ground he was supposed to hit play on when Robyn gave him the signal.

Sweat was forming on his brow and on his palms. He turned to Steve.

"Do I look okay?" he asked his friend. "How's my hair? And the bow tie?" He lifted his chin.

The other man was wearing an amused smile. "Hair and bow tie look as fine as they did when you asked five minutes ago." He put a hand on Javier's shoulder and squeezed. "Relax, man—you look great. She's gonna love what she sees."

"I fucking hope so."

The sun had started its descent on the horizon and was the backdrop for the place they’d be standing; the sky where it met land was lit up in burning orange, bleeding into golden yellow where the sun was positioned, and high above that, it turned into a calming mauve.

The soft, melodic sound of a piano began, and it was Javier's cue to face the others. Christine McVie’s voice floated through the air as she sang the opening to the Fleetwood Mac song, "Songbird:"

“For you there'll be no more crying For you the Sun will be shining And I feel that when I'm with you It's alright, I know it's right.”

Seconds later, Robyn came into view, smiling while holding a small bouquet of sunflowers with a lavender ribbon wrapped around the stems. She shot her boyfriend, Sebastián, a wink as she passed him. She took her spot across from Javier beside where Cielito would be.

When he discussed with his wife-to-be the music for today, she only knew for sure what she wanted them to dance their first dance to, and since Javier didn’t object to it, she left what she’d walk down the aisle to up to him. He knew she’d hate the traditional “Bridal Chorus,” a couple of Elvis Presley songs came to mind, “No Sé Tú” by Luis Miguel perfectly described how Javier felt when they met and was a good option, “At Last” by Etta James would be appropriate, too, and “I Could Fall in Love” by Selena was in the running, because, Selena, but then he remembered this song on Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours—his favorite album, and for good reason with it having some of the band’s best classics like “The Chain,” “Dreams,” and “Go Your Own Way;” it was also seeping with palpable heartbreak of a messy breakup, except for the track, “Songbird.” It was a major tonal shift from all the angst with its pretty piano and Christine McVie crooning her love. What sold him on it were the lines:

“To you, I’ll give the world To you, I’ll never be cold ‘Cause I feel that when I’m with you It’s alright, I know it’s right.”

He loved it when he heard it played live at the band's concert twenty-three years ago—he’d been seventeen and still in high school; he and his buddies snuck off to Fort Worth to see them, and “Songbird” was the last song of their set before the encore.

It was his three-year-old sobrino’s (nephew’s) turn to walk forward, his mom sending him to his dad with the rings—they all laughed at how he ran as fast as he could, making Javier smile.

"Here, Daddy," the child said to Steve, holding up the pillow.

His father accepted it.

"Great job, kiddo—high-five." His friend had to bend a little to gently hit his palm to Stevie’s tinier one, and the toddler turned to Javier expectantly, who, of course, bent his knees and high-fived him.

"You did good, buddy,” he said.

Steve told his son to stand with him, and Connie went to be next to Robyn as everyone watched Olivia walk up, tossing red rose petals from a small white basket, leaving a trail of them behind her. He hum-sang under his breath along with the song:

“And the songbirds are singing Like they know the score And I love you, I love you, I love you Like never before.”

Finally, his bride came into view, her eyes locking onto his, and all the love he had for, all of his happiness, and thanks he had to the universe for making this day happen overflowed from him, falling as tears down his face and made his smile so big, he could feel the dimple in his cheek.

She was breathtaking and better than anything he could’ve imagined; this moment would be seared into his brain for all eternity, and he didn’t think he’d ever felt this happy in his entire life—he almost told Steve to make sure he didn’t float away.

Her bouquet was made up of roses from his mother’s garden, and his heart felt like it would burst. Then the dress—Jesus Christ, the dress was perfect with how it molded to her body and showed off her tits from the neckline V-ing between them. His fingers were itching to see if the fabric was as buttery smooth as it looked, wanting to explore the expanse with his fingertips, mapping out every curve, line, and dip he’d already ventured countless times before but now on a new canvas; He desired to feel her softness under his palms and cradle her beautiful face to kiss those delectable lips he so loved; he wanted to hold her in his arms, her familiar shape he knew as intimately as his own, pressed against him, where she belonged.

All of it was getting him too excited, and his pants were feeling tighter, just as he suspected might happen.

Javier’s dream wedding night would have them partying with their friends and family well into the later hours and holding off on consummating their marriage until they retired to the room he rented at the nicest hotel in town he was surprising her with. He’d been determined to do just that up until he had to spend the previous evening by himself where he was alone with his thoughts and ruminated on how beautiful she was going to look, that she was going to be his wife, and one day soon, the mother of his children; since she wasn’t there to distract him by simply being in his vicinity, he worked himself up until he was rock hard and had to take a freezing shower.

He didn’t see there being any chance they’d make it to the hotel without them fucking at least once beforehand.

God, she was so fucking gorgeous.

He had to wipe at the wetness on his face, his smile continuing to shine.

Telling her his feelings in front of everyone wasn’t all he’d been nervous about; his brain was a real asshole, and there’d been a tiny thread of worry she wasn’t going to show—it was stupid, to have even fathomed something so absurd, yet looking at how shitty his luck was up until they met, he thought it wouldn’t have been too surprising that this time he’d be the one left at the altar.

But she was here! She came! And he was so overjoyed he couldn’t stop crying.

Wait.

Oh, fuck, she was close now—what was he supposed to do? It only just registered that she was walking with his dad, and they were almost to him, and he couldn’t remember what needed to happen when she got to him. His heart was pounding a mile a minute, and he was starting to panic that he didn’t know what his next move was, worried he was going to fuck it all up; it was unbelievable that he’d been in gunfights, had to think on the fly to stay alive many times, and put on press conferences, yet at this moment when there wasn’t any danger or eager reporters, he was so overwhelmed by the woman he loved’s beauty, and that she was marrying him, his brain had ceased functioning entirely, and he was spiraling at embarrassing himself with so many onlookers.

Javi was having a panic attack.

The change in his eyes, how they went from bright and happy to panicked, clued you in, and any nervousness you felt flew out the window because your only concern was helping him.

Unhooking your arm from Chucho, you held out the hand, not holding flowers to Robyn.

“Flask me,” you said. Quickly, she pulled it from her pocket and passed it to you, taking your bouquet in return. You stepped in front of your betrothed as you unscrewed the cap on the container of booze. “Hey, baby,” you said in a soothing tone. “You’re okay.” You grabbed his hand and put the flask in it, pushing it toward his face. “Have a drink to calm your nerves. Everything is gonna be okay, honey. Remember, we’re doing this together—it’s just us.”

The music had stopped playing.

He shook his head once like he was trying to shake the bad stuff out, and he took a drink, or several, with how his Adam’s apple kept bobbing.

“Looks like I’ll be driving us after this.” The adults surrounding you chuckled, and you smiled.

His hand lowered, and his vision focused on you, a pink flush spreading over his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“No reason to be sorry—I freaked out in the car.” You took the flask from him, screwed on the cap, and handed it back to Robyn without looking. “Feeling better?” you asked, smoothing your fingers over his bangs while his eyes were on yours.

“Much,” he answered with a small smile, his palms moving to rest on your hips.

“Wanna get married?”

“More than anything.”

“Good—liquid courage helps.” You leaned in to kiss his cheek, then put your lips near his ear for only him to hear, “Say the word, and we’ll pack up, go party with everyone, and hit the courthouse tomorrow.”

He spoke softly in your ear, “Thank you, Cielito, but I promise I’m okay.” He kissed your cheek. “I told you I’d see how beautiful you are and forget how to function.”

You giggled, pulling back to look at him, taking in the black tuxedo jacket and bow tie over his crisp white shirt and the lavender pocket square and the pinned violet rose for a pop of color—his hair still looked good, and you rubbed away the tears on his cheeks with your thumbs.

When he saw you in your wedding dress, the expression on his face was something you’d never forget—it was a look of pure, uninhibited joy, and you were sure you saw hearts in his eyes with how they beamed his immense love and devotion. The way that it had him crying happy tears made you feel emotional that someone loved you with such magnitude. It’s why your immediate thought when you saw him panicking wasn’t that he wanted to back out, knowing from his note that he was freaking the fuck out about embarrassing himself, and the nerves got him.

“Let’s get married.” His head turned to kiss one of your palms.

“Let’s get married.”

Turning to your almost-father-in-law, you gave him a quick hug, and he kissed your forehead before he moved to give Javi a side hug, careful of the stuff held in one of his hands and whispering something in his son’s ear, you didn’t catch.

The elder Peña went to stand at his place in front of the tree, holding his worn, soft leather bible, with a picture of Javi’s mother stuck to the cover and a note card sticking out from between the pages to mark a spot.

Javier took your hand, and you both walked the few steps to your spots before his father; he grasped your other palm in his once you faced one another, Chucho on your left and Javi’s right.

Your husband-to-be mouthed, ‘I love you,’ and you silently replied with the movement of your lips, ‘I love you, too.’

Chucho cleared his throat, and your attention went to him.

“Welcome, loved ones,” he started, “we are gathered here today in the sight of God and each other to bear witness to the perfect union of Javier, and—” He said your name. “What a joyous day we get to share with them as they embark on this new journey of a life together in matrimony that will, no doubt, be long, healthy, and filled with love, happiness, and laughter.

“Mijo, Mija,” he addressed you both, “I called this union between you perfect, and I meant it. Besides my marriage to my dear Antonia, que en paz descanse (may she rest in peace), I cannot think of two other people more suited to share a life together. It’s clear the good you bring out in one another and how happy you make each other.” His eyes landed on you. “And you truly make my son happy. This might come as a shock,” he said to everyone in attendance, “but Javier is a smiley guy when he’s happy, and I haven’t seen him smile so much in a long, long time.

“He also has never been able to hide his feelings because that handsome face of his tells his secrets—it’s his—” He glanced at you. “—I’m stealing this from you, Mija—it’s his puppy dog eyes, he got from his mother, and she suffered the same problem.” His gaze stayed on you. “I know Javier loves you more than there’s blue in all the sky because he looks at you the same way mi amor looked at me, and as we know, their eyes don’t lie.”

He was right, and it made you choke up that he knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of such honesty and the weight of so much love.

Chucho looked at his son. “Your media naranja (soulmate) isn’t much better.” He nodded toward you. “Her eyes betray her, too, even when she does her damndest to hide behind a mask. When she looks at you, though, the truth of her love is revealed—her thoughts are loud when she stares at you, and sometimes I think I can hear them; the declaration of ‘I love you,’ she’s repeating over and over again. She looks at you like you’re her whole world, and I know it’s true from those looks, how she treats and cares for you, the things she does for you, even when you don’t ask, and the effort she puts into cultivating your relationship.”

He spoke to you both again. “Marriage can be wonderful with the right person, but it isn’t always easy; I want to take a moment and give you some advice that kept my marriage happy.

“Be best friends—talk about everything, even when you don’t want to or it’s a hard subject. Communicate your needs and wants constantly, and don’t stop talking to each other. Be best friends who share everything, and I mean everything, because your relationship needs to be built upon trust, and there’s nothing better than spending your life with your best friend.

“Keep having fun—joke around, cook together, dance in the kitchen, don’t stop having fun. And keep dating each other. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean that the dating stops. Go out, stay in, just have romantic time you dedicate to one another; that way, the spark stays alive. I know it’ll be harder to do when you have kids; you’ll be exhausted and won’t have much energy. Dating still needs to be a priority, and it doesn’t have to be anything exciting; it can be as simple as putting the kids to bed, staying up, watching a movie together, or baking cookies.”

“—or folding laundry together,” Steve interjected.

Javi chuckled, and you were confused. He leaned toward you to whisper in your ear, “It’s their code word for sex.”

“Oh, that’s smart,” you said as he straightened.

A furrow was between Chucho’s eyebrows. “I guess folding laundry can be romantic…” the older man said. “Now, where was I?” He opened his bible and pulled out the notecard, his eyes scanning over. “Oh, yes—anyone can fall in love; it’s nurturing that love, sharing your life with the other, facing challenges together, and growing as one that makes it real love, and what you have is real. The love you share and I had with my wife is beautiful, but it’s also fierce, it’s powerful, and all consuming; it’s not something anyone can get between and will live on even when you no longer walk the earth. I know you didn’t want a religious ceremony, but there’s a scripture I’d like to share that perfectly describes what I mean. May I?” he asked, his bible already open to the page.

Javier and you figured he’d slip in a verse or two simply because he was a devout Christian man. It was nice of him to ask permission first, though. You turned your head to meet your almost-husband’s eyes and shrugged that you were fine with it. He smiled, his attention going back to his father.

“Go ahead,” Javi said.

Chucho had a toothy grin. “Wonderful—it’s in Songs of Solomon 8 and reads: Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If one offered for love all the wealth of one’s house, it would be utterly scorned.”

He shut the bible with one hand, his notes resting atop it.

“I wish more people got to experience that kind of love—it’d do the world a whole lot of good. Javier—” He looked at his son, then over to you, saying your name. “I know with how you feel for each other, it’s natural to think marriage is the next step in your relationship. I want you to be sure you know what you’re getting into.” His eyes were moving between you both. “This is a lifelong commitment that will have its ups and downs, highs and lows, and you’ll need to challenge yourselves to love the other more completely each and every day. Are you ready to take this step?”

Without missing a beat, Javi and you said simultaneously, ‘Yes,’ your hands still in his.

Chucho smiled. “Wonderful. Javier—” His eyes went to his son. “—do you take—” He said your name. “—to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you honor her, cherish her, love, trust, and commit to her and her alone, through joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever else life may throw at you both, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Javi said.

His father turned his attention to you and addressed you by name. “—do you take Javier to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you honor him, cherish him, love, trust, and commit to him and him alone, through joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever else life may throw at you both, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” you answered.

“It’s time for you to share the vows you’ve written for one another before you exchange rings. Who’d like to go first?”

“Me!” you said immediately, and everyone laughed. “I need to get them out of the way before Javi makes me a blubbering mess. Robyn, vows me.” Turning her way, you put out your hand, and she juggled the two bouquets she held to pull a folded piece of paper from her pocket to hand to you. “Have I told you your dress is amazing?” you asked her.

“Thank you—I look good and have pockets. What could be better?”

“Dresses with pockets are a game-changer.” You faced Javi, and heat bloomed up your neck and on your face at remembering you had to say how you felt in front of people.

“Hey,” Javi said to get your attention, and your gazes locked. “It’s just me,” he whispered. “Talk to me—no one else is here.”

“Right.” You smiled, then focused on the lined notebook paper you unfolded that had your writing on it. “Javier Jesús Peña López,” you began, “the first of his name, King of my heart, Lord of our tiny apartment, and Protector of me—”

“Just Javi’s fine,” he said.

You giggled. “Javi, not a day goes by that I am unaware of how lucky I am to have found you. When I think about how much time you spent away from this town—that I both love and hate—all the people you’ve met, the life you’ve lived, and the things you’ve gone through, it’s a miracle our paths crossed, and possibly Divine Intervention or the universe doing me a solid, that after everything that’s happened to you, you’ve ended up here, with me.

“It’s crazy the number of obstacles we’ve had to face together and how many people are obsessed with making your life difficult—this isn’t me complaining. I’m weirdly thankful for it; it’s kept us on our toes and tested our bond. It’s improved our communication and has built a strong foundation for our relationship.

“Something I’m also thankful for is the trust we share. I can count on you. I know you’re true to your word, and I have no reason to worry about you ever being deceitful.

“What’s also reassuring is your star signs back up the faith I have in you—as a Sagittarius, you value honesty, and when you find someone you think is really worth it, you commit, and you commit hard. With Capricorn and Scorpio in your top three, you’re super loyal, a little possessive, and definitely a relationship guy. To sum all of that up, you’re pretty much perfect and an amazing partner.

“You’re a good man, the best I’ve known. My life is better with you in it. Thank you for loving me.” Tears started to distort your vision, the emotion coming through in your voice. “Thank you for loving me unconditionally. Thank you for your unwavering support and for being my rock. Thank you for being my protector and making me feel so safe with you. Thank you for being my best friend and the love of my life.”

You had to take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“Here are my promises to you,” you said, “I promise to love you until the end of time, and if I happen to go first, haunt you until we can be together again.” He chuckled. “I promise to be your protector and to always have your back; I will go to battle for you in a heartbeat, and hopefully, you know that. I promise to be honest, and it should go without saying because, as we’ve established, you’re perfect, but I promise to be faithful. I promise to keep making you laugh and smile. I promise to put you first and to always be your best friend—sorry, Steve.”

“You can have him,” Steve replied, and everyone laughed.

You continued speaking, “I promise to make your mother’s tamales a couple times a year—I promise to make you one of her other recipes on the days you miss her particularly bad. I promise to keep reminding you that you’re sexier and better than Harrison Ford.” That one made him and the others crack up. “I promise to rap “Whatta Man” for you every time it comes on, so you don’t forget whatta man you are. I promise to dance with you in the kitchen every chance we get. I promise to try, keyword here, try, not to recite the movies word for word when we watch Star Wars or Addams Family Values. I promise to always make sure we don’t run out of limes or your hot sauce or side-eye you when you put either on the perfectly seasoned food I made. I promise to always leave you the last of the ice cream because you’re a dirty liar when you say you don’t want it. I promise to tell you I love you every day until the day I die. I promise that you and your love will always be enough, and I’ll always pick you; I’ll always choose you over anyone else.

“Today, the separate books of our lives have come to an end, and we’re starting the next one together—I can’t wait to see what each new chapter will bring. What I know for sure—” You glanced over at Chucho. “—I’m stealing this from you, Pop—” Your eyes went to Javi’s, and his were reddened, his face glistening from crying and flushed from the alcohol. “—What I know for sure,” you said, “is this new adventure we’re beginning, will be filled with love, happiness, and laughter.

“Javi, you are my person. You’re the love of my life, my one true love, mi media naranja, the person I want to go to sleep with every night and wake up with every morning. You’re my best friend and my forever.

“I love you, Javier Jesús Peña López and I am so happy I get to spend eternity with you.”

His smile was big enough his dimple was showing and you hated that you couldn’t kiss him.

Chucho sniffled, putting his bible under his arm to get his handkerchief from his pocket, lifting his glasses to wipe away his tears.

“That was beautiful, Mija. When you’re ready, Javi, go ahead.”

All she said had Javier feeling so unbelievably happy that he couldn’t stop the waterfall of tears streaming down his cheeks, and he thought his smile might be permanently stuck on his face—he was sure the alcohol wasn’t helping him to keep his composure.

His dad’s speech had gotten him, too, especially about how Chucho could see her feelings for him and said their love was real. He always wondered if the intensity of what he felt for her was normal, and hearing that his parents were the same way reassured him that they just had a strong connection. His father’s advice was helpful, too, and he planned on following it.

She looked incredible and smelled amazing; her perfume wasn’t one she’d worn before, but he knew the scent because he got it for her as a Christmas present—it was intoxicating, and he was dying to shove his face into her neck to drown himself in it. With the emotions she was eliciting from him, her beauty, the perfume, and the whiskey he drank, it was a heady combination that had him feeling buzzed, and he was so caught up in all of it that it had completely slipped his mind that he had to speak.

“Shit,” he said under his breath and barely pulled open the left side of his jacket to get into the inside pocket. First, he grabbed his reading glasses, which he put on, then the folded piece of yellow, lined paper he’d taken from a legal pad at work.

“I am literally the luckiest woman in the world,” Cielito said, and his eyes lifted to her. She was smiling, her eyelashes wet, and she looked incredibly delighted.

“The glasses?” he asked with a smirk.

“Oh, yeah,” she answered. “You’re spoiling me. I get glasses Javi in a tuxedo, and he’s gonna say pretty, romantic things about how much he loves me—talk about the best day ever.”

“With how you look?” he said. “It’s my best day ever, too.”

She playfully smacked his arm. “Stop it, don’t make me want to suck—”

Robyn started coughing loudly, and his wife-to-be’s eyes widened.

“—hug you more,” she tried to save and cringed. “Hugs, not drugs, am I right?” She chuckled nervously.

He snorted, shaking his head. “You ready?” he asked.

“Wait.” Her upper body twisted so she could look behind her. “Tissue me,” she said to Robyn, and her friend got a clean one out of her pocket and exchanged it for Cielito’s folded paper. She faced him again. “Okay, I’m ready. Remember to focus on me. No one else is here.”

“That’ll be easy.” He cleared his throat, his eyes moving to what he’d written. It wasn’t something he said often, but he let her first name slide off his tongue, thinking how perfect it was going to sound paired with his last. “—mi Cielito, mi amor, mi alma, mi media naranja, y ahora, mi esposa (My Cielito, my love, my soul, my soulmate, and now, my wife), my life didn’t begin until the moment I met you; what I mean by that, is I was alive, yes, I was breathing, I had a pulse, but I didn’t start living until we met. You made me want to live and be happy—for so long, I thought I would die miserable and alone, and you showed me that I deserved happiness and to be loved.” His eyes were burning, and the following sentence made him choke up. “You showed me I deserved a family of my own.” Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. “Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I thank the universe, the powers that be. I thank whoever let you find me because I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you.”

He went off script to look into her beautiful, teary eyes. “Pop was right; I love you more than there’s blue in the sky, I love you more than there’s water in all the depths of the oceans, I love you more than there are stars in the entire galaxy—I love you more than anything, and I mean anything.”

He focused on what he’d written again. “I once told you I didn’t believe in true love, and I didn’t—that was just made-up stuff in the cartoon movies I watched with Olivia. Or at least I thought it was before you, and then, having you in my life, I discovered it was real. With you, ‘media naranja (soulmate)’ isn’t just a term of endearment; it’s an acknowledgment that you’re my other half and that we’re two parts meant to be together. Love with you transcends what most people have; we feel it deeper than our bones, all the way down into our souls, where we’re connected.

“Our love is true love.”

Wetness was dripping from his eyes to splatter onto the paper.

“Those fairytale movies got something right, and it’s that this kind of love would make a person fight dragons and sea witches for their true love. As my father said, it’s fierce, powerful, and all-consuming. It doesn’t end when our hearts stop beating; it continues on—it’s infinite—what we feel for one another is more than a single life can handle, and I’ll follow you when this one’s over; we’ll find each other again, and live another life together because there is no me without you or you without me.

“From the first day we met, I knew you were special. We spent hours talking in that bar, and I’ve never felt such peace or so comfortable with someone; with you, I don’t have to keep my guard up. I can be vulnerable, speak what’s on my mind, and openly show my affection. With you, I’m safe, and from the first night, you were my Cielito, my little heaven—there’s no better name for you, not with how happy you make me, how you make me feel, and how much better my life is with you.

“You’re my little heaven, mi Cielito, my everything. You’ve shown me more love than I’ve ever known—thank you.” His voice faltered, and he had to wipe at his eyes as best he could beneath his glasses. “Those two words aren’t enough to express my gratitude, and I will spend every waking moment showing you how thankful I am for you and all you’ve done.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said, “it’s not enough, but thank you.”

He sounded gravelly, the words thick. “In you, I’ve found love, a wife, a partner for life, a best friend, an incredible lover, a home, a teacher to show me how to live; someone who makes me happy, makes me laugh, someone to have a family with, who supports me, inspires me, and makes me want to be a better man.

“Thank you for being all of this and more. Thank you for marrying me today and making me the happiest man in the entire goddamn universe.

“Fuck,” he breathed, taking off his readers to hold with the paper while his other hand scrubbed away the tears. “I really hoped I wouldn’t cry this much—it’s embarrassing.”

“I love it,” she reassured. “It just shows you really mean what you’re saying.”

He put the lenses back on and looked at her, seeing her eyes were red from crying, the tissue in her hand stained with mascara—she’d managed to keep from ruining the rest of her makeup.

“I do mean it all,” he said.

She was smiling. “I know.”

Javier composed himself by taking a deep breath and clearing his throat. Finally, he was ready to speak again. “It was hard figuring out my vows because I wanted to promise you everything your heart could possibly desire, but Pop said that was boring.” He frowned.

“And that he needed to do better,” Chucho added.

Javier sighed.

“I would’ve been fine with that vow,” Cielito said.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “Pop was right. You deserve the best.” He took another deep breath and slowly let it out, looking at what he’d written and patting himself on the back for making notes—he was definitely too emotional and tipsy to have remembered everything he wanted to say. “Cielito,” he started, “you have all my love and devotion, and I give you myself; my mind, body, and soul belong to you. I vow to never stop loving you, even when this earth is no more and the stars stop shining. I vow to make you feel loved and cherished until the end of my days. I vow to always be your best friend, your confidant, your shoulder to cry on, y un chismoso contigo (and a gossiper with you)—me encanta chismear contigo (I love to gossip with you).”

She giggled, and he smiled.

“I vow to be your equal in everything and give more than I take. I vow to always be there for you no matter what, in sickness and health, when life is easy and hard, I’ll stand by you and be your anchor.” The next one made his smile get bigger. “I vow to treat you like una reina (a queen) and be the best husband you could ask for so when you brag to your girlfriends, they can see their worth and deserve to be treated like queens, too. I vow to be the best father, one you can rely on, and doesn’t call watching my own children babysitting; I’ll pull my weight, I’ll never let you get overwhelmed, and I’ll be an active parent who loves our kids so fu-freaking much.”

“I vow to keep you safe and always make you feel safe; I’ll protect you and our children with my life. I vow to make sure all of your needs are met.” He smirked, glancing at her. “I vow to ‘fold laundry’ with you whenever you ask.” He winked, and she laughed.

“Why are adults so obsessed with laundry?” He heard Olivia ask.

“I’m wonderin’ the same thing, kiddo,” Robyn said. “I’m not obsessed with it.”

“Oh, believe me, you are,” Connie replied.

“I know the stars,” Javier said, “that astrology stuff you love, told you this already, but I want you to hear it from me, too: I vow to be loyal to you and faithful, always—to me, you are the only woman I see, or will ever want; I vow to put you and our family before all else.”

He looked at her with a smile. “I have some more things I’m gonna promise after hearing yours. I vow to always give you my pickles.” Her grin was big and happy as she giggled. “I vow to always let you sing Freddie Mercury’s parts in Bohemian Rhapsody while I do the guitar solo, and I’ll always leave you the last piece of cheesecake because I love you and value my life.” That made her giggle harder. “I vow to try, the keyword here is try, to not, as you put it, ‘creepily watch you while you sleep,’ even though you’re guilty of the same thing.” Her giggles transformed into laughter. “I vow to always dance with you when we’re cleaning the house and in the kitchen while we cook together. I vow to pretend—I mean, agree that you’re the best driver in Laredo and always know your way around, even when you don’t.”

There was a reason he drove them the majority of the time.

“Rude!” she gasped. “I’m an amazing driver!”

“I agree, mi amor, you’re the best in Laredo.” He winked again, folded his paper, and put it back in his inner pocket. He spoke as he took off his reading glasses. “There’s one more thing I vow,” he said, putting the lenses away. His hands were free and he grabbed hers, ignoring the tissue clenched in one of her palms, and stared adoringly into her eyes. “I vow that years from now—decades—after our kids are grown, and we’ve retired, maybe we’ll be living in Florida like other retirees, or we’ll still be here where our family lives and we made our best memories; I vow that when we’re old and grey and can’t hear or see shit without hearing aids or glasses, that we’ll look back on our life together, and we’ll have no regrets.

“Zero,” he said.

“We did everything we wanted and lived the life we shared to the fullest, filled with love, happiness, and laughter.”

Her shoulders started to shake, and she had to let go of his hand to blot at her eyes.

“Javier!” she cried, and he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close. “Why would you end with something so sweet?”

“Para que sepas cómo nuestro futuro será (So you know what our future together will be like). Quería que vieras que cuando me des ese anillo, te daré mi futuro y lo que venga después de eso (I wanted you to see that when you give me that ring, I’ll give you my future and whatever comes after that).”

She leaned back to look at him, and he was impressed that only her mascara had gotten messed up. She poked him in the chest and said, “That ring is going on your finger right this second.” Javier chuckled as her head turned to his dad. “Can we do the rings now, please?”

Chucho laughed. “Yes, Mija, you can do the rings. Who has them?” he asked aloud.

“Me!” Steve answered and moved to stand next to the older man, being careful not to bump Nate, who’d fallen asleep in the backpack carrier. At some point, the three-year-old Stevie had gone over to his mom and was now sitting in the grass next to her, eating Goldfish crackers out of a plastic baggy from the diaper bag near them. Steve untied the ribbon keeping the gold bands secured, then picked them both up, the pillow getting shoved under his arm. “Here, Jav.” Javier turned a little, holding out his palm to his friend, and her ring was set in it. He faced his bride again.

“At this time, they will exchange rings,” Chucho said, holding his bible in front of him with the notecard atop it. “Javier, go ahead and place it on her finger.” She looked adorably giddy, presenting her left hand to him, and he held it in his palm as he slid the band onto the finger with her engagement ring, pressing it against the other. “Now, repeat after me,” his dad said, reading his notes, “‘with this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving husband forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.”

Javier’s eyes fastened onto hers, and he repeated what his father said: “With this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving husband forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.” When he finished speaking, he lifted her hand to press his lips to the new addition on her finger with a kiss, keeping his gaze on her watery one.

“I love you,” she told him.

His thumb rubbed over the gold as he lowered her arm. “I love you, too.”

“Mija,” Chucho said, “it’s your turn.”

Javier held his hand out for her to take, and when she did, goosebumps rose on his skin, practically vibrating from anticipation. Her palm was smaller and softer than his, and he watched as Steve passed her the remaining ring. A big smile formed on his face at her not waiting for his father’s instruction, putting the band onto his finger immediately—it got stuck on his knuckle, and she had to wiggle it a little to finally slide it home.

“Repeat after me,” Chucho said, “‘with this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving wife forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.”

She held his larger palm in both of her smaller ones, gazing into his eyes and smiling as she said, “With this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving wife forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.”

His breath hitched as he watched her raise his hand to kiss the band, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

His father started speaking to them, “Now that you’ve proclaimed your love for one another and exchanged rings as a seal of the promises you made today in front of these witnesses and myself, by the power vested in me by the great State of Texas, I am so happy to pronounce you husband and wife! Javier, you may now kiss your bride!”

There was clapping and hollering, someone patted his back, and Javier didn’t waste any time—he was told he could finally kiss this stunning woman in front of him, who he loved more than anything; she completed him and made him happy like no one else—ella es su vida (she is his life), su amor (his love), su media naranja (his soulmate), finalmente su esposa (finally his wife), his Cielito.

The fingers of one of his hands traced over the familiar line of her jaw, the other pulling her tight to his chest, finding the fabric of her dress was as buttery soft as he suspected. The sun had barely sunk below the horizon, leaving the sky fiery in its wake, and as it descended, so did Javier’s mouth onto hers, crushing his lips to hers. At the first touch, it felt like electricity was thrumming just below his skin, his heart racing, the press of her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck making tingles wash down his spine.

It was almost like he was kissing her for the first time, and it started out gentle, wanting to savor this moment with his wife—his wife—they were married. He was a husband and wearing a ring, the metal currently pressed to the warm skin of her cheek. His excitement got the better of him, and he deepened the kiss, licking in her mouth, her soft moan causing arousal to erupt in his belly, feeling blood begin to rush to his groin. She seemed to be just as ravenous as him, their tongues tangling and her hands gripping handfuls of his hair.

Javier didn’t think he could be happier than he was at this moment.

This was the best day of his entire fucking life.

He was a married man with an amazing wife and their lives were intertwined now, becoming one they both shared. What wound him up even more was her taking his last name—not in a possessive way, but because it was another thing they’d share, and Javier wanted to share everything with her. Name, life, home, things, children, all of it, he wanted to have and with her by his side.

His dad’s voice showed amusement when he heard him speak. “We’ll just let them get that out of their system.” People laughed. “It’s my great pleasure to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Peña!”

Mr. and Mrs. Peña.

Nothing sounded more perfect.

They hadn’t stopped kissing, too caught up in each other.

“Why are they trying to eat each other’s faces?” Olivia asked, clearly confused.

Steve shouted, “Cover her eyes, Connie!”

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a/n: The song she walked down the aisle to was "Songbird" by Fleetwood Mac. The bible verse mentioned is Song of Solomon 8:6-7 (RSVCE).

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

[shelbgrey]

Perfect(Seth Clearwater)

Paring: Cullen!Imprint!Reader x Seth Clearwater

Summary: Seth never expected to turn into a wolf, let alone imprint. But after the new born army Seth imprents on the youngest Cullen. they become love sick puppies and just try to have the time of their lives at Edward's wedding. (sorry for any spelling errors)

Twilight Master list

I found a love, for me

Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

Me and Seth hung close together as we walked around the sea of people, Bella and Edward's wedding reception was going off without a hitch. I didn't really want to be here, I hate huge croweds, but it was my big brother's wedding. It also helped I was with Seth.

He knew I didn't really want to do this, so he succeeded at spending the whole making me laugh. During the ceremony we couldn't stop giggling and making jokes about Bella, Sue had to literally sit in between us in the middle of my brothers vows. She found out that separating us wasn't gonna stop us.

This was Seth's first real party and he was always willing to try anything. We were know as the the sweet and innocent couple, we do are best to uphold that name.

“you guys are so cute together” Rose smiled, you knew Seth must be doing something right if someone like Rosalie saw him more as just a 'mutt'.

We tried to run off and get some cupcakes but Rosalie stopped us to get a photo. The first one was sweet but then they started to slowly become unhinged to the point Rose dismissed us. Emmett laughed as we went to sneak some cupcakes behind Alice's back.

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love, Not knowing what it was. I will not give you up this time

But darling, just kiss me slow

Your heart is all I own

And in your eyes, you're holding mine...

If your wondering I'm the only human in the Cullen family and the only one who has actual documents of Carlisle and Esme adopting me.

I didn't know much about the pack till I befriend Jacob. Dispite my family he had a soft spot for me, I met Seth threw him even. Of course I didn't get to officially meet Seth intill the newborn Fiasco.

What my family nor the pack was prepared for was Seth imprinting on me. Jacob had invited me to a bonfire with the pack and that's when it happened. This of corse cuased some problems with the treaty and all, but with the newborn army coming everyone let it go.

I never felt so happy to have him, I watched my siblings get married and fall in love and I was left by myself, thst was unitll Seth. He had my heart from the start.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favourite song

When you said you looked a mess

I whispered underneath my breath, But you heard it

Darling, you look perfect tonight...

“come on! Dance with me” I said pulling him towrds the swarm of other couples. Seth laughed and spung me around before pulling me to his chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck and we swayed to the music in a uncoordinated way, we didn't have to dance like Baby and Johnny from Diry Dancing to have fun.

He took my arms and we just kinda playfully bounced around and bumped each other. Things didn't really calm down till a slow song started to play, wonderful tonight by Eric Clapton started to play.

“may I have this dance?” Seth playfully bowed. “you may” he smiled and pulled me to his chest and way slowly swayed to the soft love song.

Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home

I found a lover, to carry more than just my secrets

To carry love, to carry children of our own...

I looked into his chocolate eyes never wanting this to end. We never really had a moment that didn't involve danger, so it was nice to just have a night of fun and laughter.

“have you ever thought about having a wedding?” Seth asked taking my hand in his and twirled me. I smiled softly. “of course, but we're too young to get married” I chuckled.

He smiled. “I know that...I want get a job and a maybe a small house on the res for us before we do all that”

“sounds like a plan” I smiled.

I knew in the future when it came down to either Seth or the family, I would chose Seth. I love my parents and siblings, they gave me a second chance when they adopted me. But then we move all the time and I'm not taking Seth away from his sister and mother.

We are still kids, but we're so in love

Fighting against all odds

I know we'll be alright this time

Darling, just hold my hand

Be my girl, I'll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

“you got somthing on your face” I said to Seth as we were eating the cupcakes we we're not supposed to eat yet.

“where?” he asked licking the frosting off this thumb.

I smiled and wiped the frosting on his nose. “there”

“hey” he laughed and his eyes went crossed to look at his now white nose. He stuck his toung out and tried to get it. I laughed at his failed attempts, he gave me an 'oh yeah?' look and wipped some frosting on my cheek. I laughed and pushed him away.

He stumbled backwards and accidentally bumped into Alice. “sorry Alice” he quickly said. She rolled her eyes.

“you guys aren't supposed to eat those yet and please act your ages” I rolled my eyes, Alice wasn't used to Seth yet but I didn't care what she thought. I would fight Seth for as long as it takes.

“we are acting our ages, we're at the prime of our youth and we only live once” I said smiled big, Seth nodded agreeing.

I ment the 'only live once' because that's what I wanted, as much as I loved my family I want to grow old with Seth and have a happy, normal future with him.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark,

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favorite song

When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful

I don't deserve this... Darling, you look perfect tonight

“have I told you how pretty you look tonight” Seth asked as we walked around the house, the music was getting old so we went somewhere more quiter.

I blushed. “Yes, about a million times” I playfully blumbed his shoulder.

“well it's not enough.. I don't deserve to be in the presents of such beauty” he said in his best medieval voice as he playful bowed to me then pulled me into his arms.

I have faith in what I see

Now I know I have met an angel in person, And she looks perfect...

Everything seemed to be perfect when I was with him and even if we were just 'kids' I couldn't wait for the future... And whatever desserts we can steal behind Alice's back tonight.

[shunsuiken]

THE ONE I RETURN TO.

pairing. kamisato ayato x fem!reader

genre. fluff + marriage au + reader is kinda shy btw (PLEASE CAN U BLAME ME ITS AYATO) + also you wear fragranced hand cream here

synopsis. day to day life married to kamisato ayato is never boring. there is always something to complete and achieve by the end of the day. however, due to your husband’s busy schedule, he’s never seen you in your element at work to ensure the household is in order. and tonight, he finally gets that chance.

wc. 2k

an. heavily inspired by ayato’s character story where the maids and servants often leave notes for him on his study so that he stays up to date with anything going on in the household I LOVE MY HUSBAND SO MUCH AWHWEHEURUFHDB its also my birthday today (well, it was, like 30mins ago but still) so this is a gift from me to you <3 okay please enjoy !!!

as ayato’s wife, you make sure to take care of the household while your husband attends to official duties. even if these duties take much of his time, you don’t fail to report and update him of any changes or requests made within the household and thanks to his lovely sister, ayaka, you learnt that the estate’s way of filling in the clan head on any news was though writing little notes to stick onto any books that were left open after the commissioner left his study.

as your husband, ayato really should be spending more time with you. everyone around him is aware of the capable and loving wife he has at home. some even whisper underneath their breaths that the lord commissioner is too busy to even have a wife. but he knows that is wrong, he doesn’t leave you unattended. in fact, he showers you in so many gifts (hand creams, hair products, skin care products—the list goes on!) when he knows he’ll be on business for longer than usual. this is how you found two new sets of kimono’s waiting for you on your shared bed. you must admit, they’re gorgeous. the delicate hands of ogura mio never disappoint… you nod your head in agreement to your own thoughts as you hold up the material closer to your face.

a knock on the door snaps you out of your mind.

“yes?”

“y/n? i was wondering if you were free? thoma made some pastries, would you like to—”

you bolt for the shoji before sliding it open with practiced grace. your gentle smile greets ayaka’s cute expectant expression. “of course, ayaka! you know i always have time for you.”

her eyes curl like crescents, boldly looping her arm with yours so she can take you to the area outside the estate’s doors. the evening breeze is cool but it doesn’t make you chilly enough to request a coat.

you and ayaka have always been the best of friends, even before you were wed to ayato. although you were a few years older than her, it did not change the shared frequency you both had when it came to certain hobbies and topics. then one day, you met ayato while he was on official business and you couldn’t deny how composed and… gorgeous that man was on that day. so after silently eyeing each other from across the room of authorities and inazuman nobility, he finally introduced himself, saying “he never had the pleasure of meeting you.”

you both soon grew closer, contacting each other through letters—referring to one another as your “penpal” when really you two were flirting (very, very subtly) on a piece of paper. you both only spoke during events hosted by other noble clan’s or official authorities, which was for the safety of both your reputations because god forbid a rumour that the yashiro commissioner was seeking a wife. imagine the uproar it would cause in inazuma city!

oh, and it certainly did.

as you stack papers upon papers in your husband’s study, you reminisce quietly with a relaxed smile on your face. you take the notes other servants have left and arrange them in categories of: household updates, requests and miscellaneous things. you often find yourself reading through the miscellaneous category of notes the most as they bring a laugh out of you. once you read that a servant politely asked the clan head to watch his step when leaving the study so he would avoid bumping into any potted plants. you remember that day and you remember how you were holding in your laughter at the disaster in the room when thoma showed you.

“my lady, sometimes the lord likes to get ahead of himself so it results in his feet working quicker than his head,” thoma commented as he cleaned the mess of soil and the depressing state of the plant.

you hummed in agreement. “that, i could tell very easily.”

a chuckle leaves your lips as you read through more of the notes from the retainers. “oh dear, these are too much for me.” you cover your mouth to contain your giggles. these people just have the most outlandish things to say! oh well, it is nice to know they aren’t afraid to be honest.

you’re lucky it’s past midnight, when everyone is asleep so they wouldn’t have to hear your muffled giggles.

everyone except for one person.

your husband, of course. who idly stands in the corridor with the shoji being the one thing that separates you two. he listens to how you whisper under your breath as you read the notes, or how you repeat what some of them say due to how amusing they are.

“my lord, your bountiful order of rice cakes will arrive within 3-5 days. until then please refrain from stepping into the kitchen to fi—pfft.” clearly, pursing your lips isn’t enough to keep you from bursting into laughter. “—to fix up your own—oh no, that is absolutely something he would do.”

ayato only realises how much he’s been yearning to hear your voice until now. it’s a shame this is the first time he’s bumped into you on these midnight reviews (he can see the smile on your face as you read the note even when he’s not looking at you, oh how he misses that sweet look on your face). licking his lips lightly, his gloved fingers stealthily slide the shoji open by an inch so the view reveals your figure that is turned back to him. his lavender gaze captures the sight of your hair loose and that you’re wearing the yukata he gifted you two weeks ago. you sit comfortably on his specially made tatami mat too.

sometimes ayato barely even has the time to be in your presence. but this moment right now, where he enjoys your presence without you even knowing, is nice. although the painful drop in his stomach inks him with a tinge of regret, he well understands how his duties must stay a priority. after all, he has a family to protect. ayaka, you, thoma and the retainers. he cannot fail any of you.

ayato purses his lips before he announces his presence with a light thud of the shoji shutting behind him. “hello darling.”

your spine snaps straight up at the sound and the voice. “ayato?” turning around, you watch your husband make his way toward you sitting on his tatami mat. he kneels down beside you before pulling another mat from the side to sit on it.

your mind struggles to process the moment until he is sat down. your movements are paused, two notes from the retainers still held in your hands. “when… did you arrive? it’s pretty early.”

a light chuckle leaves ayato’s lips, “darling, what are you implying? would you rather i leave?” he puts on an expression feigning disappointment, pretending to get up from his seat.

your hands move quickly, halting his act with your warm palm on his knee. “no no, don’t! stay here please.” the hastiness in your voice is accompanied by your wide eyes that have a longingness to them, a longingness that you still struggle to communicate verbally. which is how you end up subconsciously relying on your husband’s perceptiveness to get wind of what you’re feeling without telling him.

he huffs at you fondly, fixing his clothing to sit comfortably on the tatami mat again. then he takes your hand in his hand before you can pull it back. “as you wish, my dear.” he tugs on your hand and you give him a questioning look.

“come closer.”

“o- oh.” your other hand scrunches up the material of your yukata, which ayato totally sees and pretends he doesn’t. little shit. you want to curse because he knows how good he is at making your heart flutter. your body gives into him nonetheless, the longing and yearning for him finally melting into your limbs as you become putty in his arms, sitting in between his legs with both the tatami mats providing your bottom's comfort.

your arms shyly snake around his clothed waist, comfortably wrapping yourself around your husband you missed so much.

ayato lets you do whatever you want, knowing you will indulge in his invitation. sliding his gloves off his fingers, he puts them on the table so that he can feel your body without the obstruction. such a sullied garment that shakes hands with officials, signs documents and motions at retainers to obey his orders simply does not earn the right to hold you.

your head hides in the juncture between his neck and shoulder and he feels your soft breaths against his neck. he gently places his jaw on the crown of your head, finding solace in the embrace as his arms hold onto your smaller body.

the warmth from his palms spread on your skin, calming your nerves instantaneously.

“so is this what you do in my office at this time?”

you hum into his skin, “usually you’re not home by this time so it’s only natural you don’t bump into me when i’m in here.” your breath tickles ayato, a tug playing on his rosy lips at the physical intimacy. “you can imagine how shocked i was when you magically appeared behind me.” your soft giggle fills the room momentarily.

“it’s no wonder that all of my notes are arranged tidily when i return,” ayato chuckles softly, “it’s not to say that they weren’t tidy before but these notes held a certain scent on them that led me to believe that my wife was here prior.” he gently takes your hand that was wrapped around him, pulling it up to plant a kiss on your knuckles.

oh, you definitely felt how he inhaled slightly when his lips touched your knuckles. you glare at him, but there is no anger behind your eyes. “you rascal, you sniff your notes?”

ayato’s grin only widens at the name you call him, enjoying your response to his teasing. “darling, you’re the only one in this estate who wears this scented hand cream. i also personally chose it for you so i had no doubts about it.” he then sighs disappointedly, “though it is a shame this is the first time i’ve caught you in here, what if you stayed longer next time?”

you deadpan at him. “you want me to camp out here in your office?” because with his schedules, you might not even step foot into your bedroom until dawn.

ayato shakes his head, laughing softly at your expression. “don’t say that, you know i rush home every time once i’m finished.”

you pat his shoulder, putting on an act of sympathy before exhaling to feign exasperation. “and you will find me in our bedroom once you’re done.”

“y/n!” your husband almost whines, his brows creasing sorrowfully.

his expression doesn’t improve until you’ve kissed every inch of his pretty face, and only then does the corner of his lip curl up. with your hands cupping his face, he opens an eye to peek over at you ready to give him another smooch, consequently making you pause.

“are you satisfied, my lord?”

“hm, perhaps another one—over here.” ayato ponders for a moment before tapping his index finger on his own cheek. he closes his eyes yet again to await your kiss.

it does not arrive.

so he opens his eyes again, mouth ready to pester you with complaints for not granting him your divine kisses but just as he does, you’re up in his face to place that kiss he was waiting for on his cheek.

“there you go, happy?”

“most unbelievably.” his voice is soft, tender, almost a whisper. but clear enough for your ears to catch it. ayato stares at you with these eyes that tempt you into looking away. the loving and affectionate gaze of those lilac eyes, paired with that gentle curl of his pink, moistened lips is reserved, just for you. he takes your hands in his again, lifting one of them to place another ardent kiss on your knuckles. 

“especially since it’s you, the one i return to.”