#what i thought of before i left Her was them. they'd be happy for me hopefully.

[reiderwriter]

🫂 Transference 🫂

Pairing: Spencer Reid x virgin!Fem Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Summary: He saves your life, and he keeps saving it every day, but Spencer won't let you love him until you finally beg him to. Is transference really that much of an issue?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Mentions of Case details - reader is the unsub victim, mentions of rape and attempted rape, gunshot, death, kidnapping, imprisonment, parental neglect, abandonment, loss of virginity (positive), semi-public sex, bathroom sex, fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), missionary, praise kink (good girl), moaning kink (?), safe sex, slight cum play/ oral, aftercare.

A/N: I wrote a virgin reader fic for kinktober that people loved a lot (thank you all!), and I had a lot of requests for something similar, so please - enjoy!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You'd met him at the library, as if the world wanted you to forever associate the comfort you found in between the pages of a worn book with the man that tried to end your life. At first, you'd thought it a coincidence, then he'd flashed a smile at you, and you'd believed it to be fate, drawn in by the charm he wore as a disguise. 

Your first date was sweet, flowers and dinner. Your second date was sweeter, and they kept on that way. Sugar dropped into your ears until you were floating on cloud nine, right as he turned his charm off. 

“Really?” He started one day, his tone accusing from the get-go. 

“What?” 

“You're really going to eye fuck that man in front of me?” His voice was loud enough to catch notice in the small café you'd joined him in for the morning, and all the life drained out of your face. 

“I'm not- what?”

“No, forget it,” he chuffed, taking another sip of his drink and turning away from you. 

You noticed it more and more from then on, how he would accuse you of small things like looking at other men, like you had the choice to ignore them when they were shop clerks, bus drivers and just fucking people living their lives. 

Your friends were even weirded out when you joked with them about it, telling them all about your silly boyfriend who ripped a poster off your wall because it had some actor or singer or something on it. It wasn't even that important to you, but as you laughed, you were greeted with silence, with sideways glances and concerning questions. 

It was all starting to crumble, and there was nothing you could do to stop it but cling on. 

The next thing was his pushiness. You'd been up front with him at the beginning of the relationship that you were a virgin, something that he was more than happy about. 

He'd said it was because he was a man of God, and he understood your commitment, which confused you as you weren't a virgin for religious reasons. But you brushed it off as everything else about him was so… gentlemanly? 

Until he started pushing his hands up your thighs when he kissed you. He tried multiple times to push his fingers into your underwear as you tried to pull back, each time apologizing immediately when you displayed more panicked displeasure. 

“I'm sorry, something must have… The devil got to me for a second there, Y/N, but I won't let him win.” He kissed the top of your head, and he walked you to your door before giving you another chaste kiss and leaving. 

They found the first body the next morning.

She was young, maybe 16 or 17. Beaten, raped, mutilated, and asphyxiated. They said he'd kept raping her body long after she'd taken her last breath. It took them two weeks to notify her parents because of the way he'd left her. 

You'd watched the news report the same week with your boyfriend, shocked and horrified at the news and cuddling closer to him for comfort. 

Each step you came closer to him, each time you allowed him to touch you, he took it as a sign of his ownership, his claim on you. Not a single other person could get in between him and his prize. Each time you rejected him, he killed another girl. 

By body five, they'd called in the BAU. 

“Did you hear they're bringing in the FBI to solve that Cathy Renaud case? It's all over the news. Apparently, the team is super special.” 

You'd brought up the words while cooking him breakfast. He didn't live with you, but any good girlfriend would feed their man, so he woke you up every day on his way to work to let you prepare him something. 

His whole attention was on his phone, though, as he nodded through your conversation, grunting and moaning at each word. 

It was only when you brought him his plate of pancakes that you realized that he was just as interested in the subject as you were. Because he was staring at the photos of the girl he mutilated the night before. 

You didn't want to think about everything that happened after that. After the plate fell to the floor and cracked, splintering into your foot and causing you your first injury in a long line. 

You didn't want to think about the things he showed you, the way he touched you, or at least tried to. You heaved and wretched and emptied your stomach every single time you thought about the restraints on your wrists, how he'd tried to rape you but couldn't bring himself to do it because you weren't young enough anymore. You weren't dead enough.  

Instead, every time you thought back to that week, you found yourself back at the end. You replayed the bullet lodging into his brain as a comfort, which told you more than you needed to know about your mental state. It was Spencer Reid who'd shot him. He'd been quick enough to realize that the man would never have been talked down, and he'd fired the shot as a mercy to you. He may have killed your boyfriend, putting him down like he was a sick animal, but you were the one put out of your misery. 

He didn't stop to watch the body hit the floor before falling to your side, the other agents clearing the room and checking the corpse. He'd helped you to your feet, drawn an arm around your waist and pushed your head into his chest so you didn't have to see the carnage on the way out, didn't have to deal with the camera flashes as the press scrambled for pictures of the monster's willing victim. 

“One step at a time, this isn't your fault. Just stick with me,” he said, moving you from the house to a waiting van as you clasped his vest desperately, needing the lifeline he'd thrown you. 

“Ma'am, ma'am. I'm a paramedic, I won't hurt you, I just need to take your vitals, make sure you're okay.” 

The voice was vague and in the distance, and you were so sure it wasn't directed at you that you simply let yourself wrap around the man who'd saved you when you got to the ambulance. Nothing else was around but his chest, his hand on your back, your legs wrapped around him as they finally gave out. 

“Ma'am… Please, you're injured-” 

“Y/N,” he spoke finally, and you grabbed him tighter, nails digging into the skin at his neck. 

“You're Y/N, right? We've been looking for you for a long time. I'm not going anywhere, I won't let anyone hurt you.” 

The words were enough to reassure you, pulling back slightly as the paramedics began working on you, but not enough for you to embrace their touch. You clambered away from the paramedic the moment you saw he was a man, close in build and coloring to the corpse in the building behind you. 

You screamed, you cried, you pounded at the doors as Spencer held to you him, letting the paramedics sedate you, rocking you to sleep on the step of the emergency vehicle.

He was by your bedside every time you woke up, too. It was funny seeing him there when you still didn't know his name. Your parents hadn't visited, too ashamed to be associated with the entire thing to even check in on you. 

He had himself assigned your emergency contact after six days of your parents not showing up. In all that time, he'd sat patiently by your side as you wailed and raged and went numb, and the cycle repeated itself in perpetuity. 

He was there, too, with a bag of clothes and a fresh start waiting for you when you were ready to be discharged. 

His team had since moved on to another criminal of the week, putting the lives lost behind them as they traipsed through more cases and corpses and killers. He was still there, though. Somehow. 

You were old enough to be able to discharge yourself from a hospital, old enough to not need a guardian to take care of you. Spencer stayed anyway, and you didn't bother asking why. 

“I don't want to leave the hospital,” you said, climbing back into the bed you'd forced yourself into for the last week. The same bed where the nurse had ran your rape kit even after you'd told her he'd never touched you like that, after you'd explained and denied and shouted to high hell that no-one had touched you like that and she sure as hell wasn't going to be the first. 

Spencer had put a stop to the traumatic experience when he'd returned with your coffee, always picking up something for you when he went out. 

The nurse had gripped and moaned and murmured an apology, and you knew you'd not been an easy patient, but you couldn't bring yourself to feel bad about it. 

That didn't mean you wanted to leave yet, though. 

“I can't leave, I have nowhere to live.”

“Y/N, you can't stay here forever.”

“Spencer, I can't go home. My apartment is a crime scene, I almost died there, and there are reporters posted there 247 waiting for me to come back. They think I'm evil, they-” 

“They think you're a victim,” he said calmly but firmly, cutting you off before you could spiral again. “Which you are. And you'll be a victim forever if you don't get out of that hospital bed and start moving on.” 

He dumped a bag on your bed, a bag you recognised as one of your own overnight bags from your apartment. He looked at you again, the question in his silence. 

Are you going to keep being his victim?

You huffed as you got out of your bed, throwing off the covers and standing in front of him. He didn't budge. 

“Well?” You asked, looking at him as he stood still, not moving even an inch. 

“Well, what?” He replied, eyebrows knitting. 

Instead of replying, you rolled your eyes and reached behind you to the ties in your hospital gown, opening it until you could pull it off your body before pulling out the clothes he'd left in the bag. 

You didn't glance at him again until you were fully naked, readying your underwear so you could pull it on. When you turned back to him, his gaze knocked the wind out of you. 

You'd stopped feeling like a woman the minute he'd carried out of that room. You were a child, a fragile doll, a specimen to be studied. For some of the nurses, you were an infection they could catch. 

Spencer Reid, against his better judgment, was looking at you like you were a woman. Like you were the object of his every desire. 

“S-Spencer…” you said suddenly feeling the shame and embarrassment of being naked suddenly in front of another person. You pulled the sweatshirt he'd packed you over your torso, covering all of your intimate areas as you stammered out your apology. 

“I- shit, I'm sorry-”

“I'll wait - I’ll wait outside. If you need anything you can… you can do whatever.” He said, dragging his eyes off of your body and letting them fall anywhere that you weren't. His eyes darted from the floor to the wall, to the air next to your head and finally to the door where he took himself out. 

You dressed in a hurry and followed him. 

“Spencer? Spencer, I'm ready,” you said, running down the hall to him and grabbing his arm, holding it for support and comfort, but mostly just to be close. 

Since waking up from that first sedation of many in those first few days, you hadn't been more than a few hours without having him hold you. 

His team had sent many warning looks watching you wrapped around him like a scared child, hiding behind him like a small, shaking dog. You hadn't seen a problem in it, truly clinging to him like a lifeline. 

After whatever the hell had just happened in your hospital room, though? Now you felt each solid ridge of him. You hadn't felt like a woman, sure  but you equally hadn't acknowledged Spencer as a man until then. A very attractive man. 

The stubble on his jaw only made it sharper. His gentle, curving eyes, cut at the corners by the start of laugh lines, his mouth straight and… and kissable. For the first time in months, definitely for the first time since you'd met your monster, maybe even for the first time ever, desire heated the depths of your stomach. 

Your breath hitched, and you held him tighter as he led you out of the ward and ushered you into your new life. 

“We're not going to your apartment. Your landlord released you from the lease for…obvious reasons after some persuading. Your parents-” 

“My parents?” You asked in disgusting, halting in the hall. For the first time since you'd left the room, he had to turn and look you in the eyes. He'd done his best to dampen the desire, but some part of you still recognised it, even as your logical brain fought to be heard. 

“Your parents agreed to fund three months in a new apartment. After which time, you will have a job and some stability, so you'll be able to pay for it yourself.”

You tried to argue and tried to talk back, but your tongue was thick. 

A new apartment. Living alone, being alone, for any amount of time, felt daunting. 

But Spencer took one more step towards the door and then another, and you had no choice but to walk with him, hand slipping down and grasping his like it was your lifeline. 

The drive to whatever new apartment your parents had leased for you was silent, and the storms in your head grew until they'd taken up so much space they erupted forth, darkening the actual skies. A crash of thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance just as he pulled into the building. Luckily for you, there was underground parking, so you didn't even need to contemplate letting the lightning hit you. 

There was one space left, and Spencer pulled his car in, flipping the engine off and getting out without another word. 

He led you up the stairs, then he led you to your floor, then he led you to your door and handed you the keys. 

You felt cold as you opened the doors, knowing you were about to confront items of boxes that had watched you be burned, cut, slapped, beaten.

There were no boxes behind the door. Everything had, to your shock, been unboxed and staged already. 

You recognised magnets on the fridge, stuffed animals on the bed when you made your way to your bedroom. Your toiletries were neatly tidied into your medicine cabinet, hell, even your bookshelves had your own dog-eared copies of books well past their prime. 

You had every comfort and joy without having to push yourself through the pain of thinking about where these items had last been kept. 

There were new things too. The couch was definitely second-hand, but it wasn't the one you'd brought at Goodwill the week after your college graduation. That one was stained red, no doubt, somewhere in a tip. There was bedding and sheets and blankets and plates and forks and knives - a whole household of items that someone had chosen. 

You turned back to Spencer and cried. You buried your face in his chest and wrapped yourself around him again as he held you. 

And then, realizing he'd been the one to orchestrate this, if not the one who had arranged everything himself, you pushed up on the balls of your feet, and you kissed him. 

For the few seconds it lasted, it was brilliance. The pressure on your lips after a second had your heart singing as he kissed you back, your hands balling into his shirt as you stepped closer and closer, needing to be wrapped around him, buried in safety and warmth. 

He pulled back and stepped out of your reach too quickly, the back of his hand reaching up to his mouth as if checking that it was still there, that he'd actually just been kissing you back. 

“Y/N, you don't…we can't do that.” 

“Do what?” You said, creeping forward, needing to feel him beside you again. 

“You're not… you don't feel about me the way you think you feel about me,” he said, pushing your hair behind your ear as you wrapped your arms around his waist again. 

“How do I feel?” 

“Grateful. Y/N, this is gratitude. I saved you, and so you think you are in love with me. It's called transference, and you will deeply, deeply regret this one day.” 

The urgency in his tone had you flinching, even if he was trying to talk to you as softly as possible. For a moment, you'd done as he'd asked and forgotten you were a victim. It was apparently something he himself would not forget anytime soon.

You stood around awkwardly for another minute or two. 

“What…what now?” You asked, avoiding the kiss and whatever lay in that direction.

“I'll walk you through the emergency contact numbers. The apartment building is pretty old, so there's a wall phone in the kitchen, but there are some modern amenities, too. The laundry room is on the first floor, next to the porters office. I'm in apartment 23 on the second floor, and-” 

“What?” Your entire body buzzed, hearing him speak, and you almost forgot to breathe, rushing to stand straight again.

“I… I live on the floor below,” he said, almost cautiously now that you'd thrown yourself at him. “I thought you might enjoy the company.”

He gave you a weak smile and you wanted to kiss him all over again, to press your lips again and again into the soft flesh of his skin, his lips, his nose, his cheeks, his neck, his chest. 

You wanted him to hold you. You stood by the sofa and let your grip on a cushion tighten to stop from throwing yourself at him again. One rejection was enough for the day. 

Not that you stopped in the weeks to come. 

Spencer had himself relegated to office work for the first month as you rode out the waves of your grief, sticking by his side for comfort.

Your friends came and went, but they wore the stench of ‘I told you so’ and ‘I saw that coming,’ and you suffocated on it after so long. 

Every day after he returned home, you arrived at him door and threw yourself into his open arms, sitting with him for hours. Most days, you read together, ignoring that the man flipped pages three times as fast as you did. Some nights, you watched shows or movies, making your way through three companions worth of “New Who” in a week.

Each time you came, he took care of your food, ordering or cooking simple pasta dishes for you. 

He told you about the time his coworker had taught him how to make the perfect pasta, berating him for putting oil in his pasta water, and damn near drawing his weapon while he made sure he salted it. 

You laughed together and ate together, and you forgot together. 

Your life was back to normal when you got your first job interview. It's nothing spectacular, but it was enough that it would pay the bills to the apartment whose lease is a ticking bomb counting down to 0. It was a normal office, where you would be doing normal work that you had absolutely done before. 

The interview was normal, the female employee that meets you first reassuring you that the company is safe, their employees vetted and supported. 

And the company makes feminine hygiene products anyway, so they don't attract too many men, or at least none like the monster you'd known. 

All in all, the interview went well. 

It went well all the way until you reached the bus stop. You felt eyes on you, watching your movements, but you couldn't see anyone else focusing on you particularly.

You felt the stares on the bus, and the stares when you got off the bus two stops early. You felt the stares walking around the block three times to throw whatever was following you around off your track. You felt the stares as you sat outside Spencer's apartment until 6:45pm, when he came home and found you there. Your interview had been at 1pm.

“Y/N, what's wrong?” He said, immediately holding you and guiding you into the apartment. 

Your anxiety and fear had settled into self-loathing and disappointment. You let him hold you quietly, rejecting food and conversation. 

You sat quietly with him on his sofa as he held a book in one hand, stroking your hair with another as you laid on his chest. 

The emotions of the day were overwhelming, consuming the part of your brain that had started being happy again for the first time. You grew angry at the sadness for seeping back in, and in an act of rebellion, you pushed back up and kissed Spencer once more. 

His brain was slower to react this time, even if his body wasn't. 

You straddled his hips as your lips joined his, melting together in a hot embrace. He dropped his book quickly, hand resting on your hip as the one that had been stroking your hair angled your jaw up so he could set the pace. 

All your emotions were swept away in a wave of desire as you slowly rubbed against him, butt shifting as you clumsily followed your arousal past your worldly knowledge. 

You couldn't even think about what was next because your tongue was clashing with Spencer's, and your brain was short circuiting. 

The second you let out your first whimper of pleasure, he pushed you away and stood up, crossing the room to put distance between you, just as he had a month beforr. 

“Y/N, you had a bad day, but this isn't… This isn't how you should make yourself feel better.” 

“Spencer-” 

“I told you about transference before, Y/N, you need to listen to me. I'm not… I'm not the one for you.” His voice shook as he ran his hands through his hair in stress, body tense in a way that informed you he was holding himself back. 

“Transference. Transference…” You sat upright on his couch and let all the logic rush back into your brain at once. 

“Y/N?” He asked, voice shaking as he watched you zone out of the conversation, almost afraid that he'd damaged you again. 

“Is there… Is there something wrong with transference?” You asked, voice impossibly calm as you still stared straight forward. 

He moved towards you again and knelt at the floor in front of you, clutching your hands in his. 

“Y/N, you don't really want me like that, you don't, you can't-”

“Love you?” You asked, your voice finally breaking, eyes finally meeting his.

It was as if you knocked the wind out of him. He sat there completely dumbstruck. 

“It might not be love, okay, I'll admit that. But you're… you're strong and smart, and you take care of me. And you're attractive, and you make me happy, which is something I didn't think I'd ever be again-” 

“Y/N, something happened to you today, and you threw yourself at me. You threw yourself at me when you moved into your apartment. You felt stressed, and you reacted, Y/N. You don't love me.”

You sat calmly listening to his words again, your body still aching for his touch, your heart still pounding in your chest. 

“Okay. Okay. So if I do…this when I'm not feeling vulnerable, then what? Then you'll believe me?” 

“Y/N…” he sighed in defeat, hand again raking through his hair. 

You grabbed your things and stood up off the couch, bending to press another kiss to his lips before you parted. 

He was shocked silent, but that didn't stop him from chasing your lips as you rose, rising to his knees and then his feet as you walked away from him.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Spencer. Get some sleep,” you said, letting yourself out or the apartment and carrying yourself, heavy and dejected, upstairs. 

If Spencer was anticipating seeing you again the next morning, he wasn't anticipating seeing you in his office.

“Spencer,” you called out as you walked into the bullpen, clipping your visitors badge into place again, making sure it wasn't crooked.

Immediately, he stood from his desk and rose to meet you, ignoring the looks from his coworkers as his hands landed on your arms, immediately checking on you. 

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He whispered, checking for tears, or injuries, or something to show him your motive for seeking him out. 

You just smiled at him, brushing a hair behind your ear when you saw him hesitate making that same gesture. 

“I was summoned. They need my statement to corroborate your weapon discharge paperwork, and Agent Hotchner called earlier.” 

His hands dropped as he breathed a steady sigh of relief, trying to make his reaction smaller than he knew it was. He was afraid something had happened to you again, and he was so caught up in his relief, that he didn't notice you moving closer until your lips were on his cheek and you were waving him off as you ascended the stairs to Hotch's office with your escort. 

“Spencer,” Morgan's voice called from behind him, and he turned hesitantly. 

“What was that?” 

He felt the eyes on him, and he pushed all thoughts of you to the side in place of total rationality. 

“I explained transference to her but… she doesn't seem to - she doesn't care.” 

“Spencer the last time I saw that girl, she was practically the walking dead. She just smiled.” Morgan said, shaking his head. But Spencer was watching you, and not his friend, and really, he wasn't even listening.

“Spencer? Spencer?” Morgan said again, rising to get in the man's face some more until he finally looked at him again. 

“She thinks she's in love with me.” 

“How do you know she isn't?” 

You kept working on him, little by little, day by day, until Spencer's field work started again. 

A little part of you was sad that he wouldn't always be around every day anymore. But you'd got that job and got over yourself as you started going out more. You made friends at your office, and you went out and laughed and joked with old college roommates. You felt like a human being again, and to no one's surprise, you still wanted Spencer Reid. 

He left every Monday on a case, and by the time Wednesday rolled around, you missed him. Going out to drinks with some coworkers after clocking off certainly didn't sate your appetite for him. 

“Spencer,” you said, breathily into the phone when he picked up, throwing yourself onto your bed. 

“Y/N, what happened? Is everything alright? Do you need me to come back?”

“No, Spencer, I just-” you hiccupped and giggled before continuing. “I just missed you so much.” 

The silence on the line was suddenly so funny to you, and you giggled again. Feeling hot, you stripped down to your underwear and started talking again. 

“I miss cuddling up to you and crawling all over you. You're really soft, you know?” You sighed, hands trailing up and down your stomach lightly. 

“Y/N,” he said in a warning tone. 

“I miss your face. I'm switching to video call,” you announced and fumbled with your phone. 

“No, Y/N, wait-” he said, but pulling the phone away from his ears, he realized his protests were too late to matter as he took in your half-naked form. 

Though your face took up the majority of the view on the camera, he could see the soft trim of your lace bra poking into the camera, and the generous push of cleavage your angle facilitated to boot. 

Checking around him for people looking, he tucked himself into a corner and scowled back at you. 

“Y/N, this isn't a game. Turn the call off and go to bed.” 

“But I miss you,” you whined. 

“Y/N,” he hissed, eyes falling to your hands where you'd begun massaging your heavy breasts. 

“When are you coming home?” You asked, whining again like a petulant child as the alcohol flushed through your system, bringing all of your desires to the forefront. 

“Soon,” he said, not trusting himself to say more than a word. 

“Good. Because I miss you. Spencer, I- I think I want to have sex with you.” 

His eyes shut as he tried to remain calm even as your words rang in his ears from 1000 miles away.

“We'll talk soon, Y/N. Good night,” he closed, finally hanging up and covering his face in his hands. He made his way quickly to his motel room, threw his phone down on his bed, and ignored as best he could his throbbing cock in his pants and the three pictures you'd sent him since he hung up. 

He didn't resist for long. 

Three nights later, you found yourself at a bar, living life to the fullest. You'd taken back to society like a swan to water, and you weren't letting the stern words of Spencer Reid keep you down. Knocking back another shot, you smiled and cheered with your friends until you felt the eyes on you again. It was different this time, though, hotter, and closer. You turned to look at the door and saw Spencer Reid and the other people who'd saved your life walking to a booth. It was Spencer's eyes on you. 

You definitely did not believe in a higher power - how could you, after all - but you did believe that this was fate. 

You blew him a kiss as he watched you walk back to your table with another cocktail in hand, letting a man who'd been trying to flirt with you earlier follow you to your friends. 

When you went for your next drink, you found him at your side in a heartbeat. 

“I'm not checking up on you,” he said, even though he was. “I'm ordering a drink.” 

“Two drinks,” you said, shooting him a flirty smile as you pressed yourself against him again, chest to chest. 

“You're ordering two drinks, Spencer,” you whispered into his ears as his head dropped down to within an inch of your own. The air felt changed, but you refused to move to close the gap. You'd put in the work the last few times. You needed Spencer to be the one to take the chance this time. 

He ordered your drinks, and still you didn't move apart, huddled together as if you were whispering conspiracies to one another. 

When your drink was firmly in your hand, he grabbed your wrist and led you to a dark corner of the bar. You sipped your drink quickly, managing two swigs before he took it and placed both drinks down - right beside Penelope Garcia - and dragged you out into the hall. 

The bathrooms were empty when he pushed you inside, and your heart throbbed as his hands pushed you into a stall, lifted your legs to wrap around him, and then his lips finally crashed into yours. 

Transference or whatever else it was supposed to be, you didn't give one shit in that moment as his tongue coaxed your lips apart.

His hands didn't stay in place for long as he dragged them up and down your body, exploring every part he'd memorized from the pictures. Every curve or inch he'd previously held tenderly, gently, he now raked over with the hunger of arousal, pushing your short skirt up until it was past your hips and his fingers could sink into you instead. 

You were soaked before he even had one digit inside you, his thumb rubbing roughly against your clit as you turned to jelly in his hands. 

You'd masturbated before, sure, you were a grown woman. But the feeling of someone else's hands, someone else's hest, the knowledge that someone else desired you so badly that they'd drag you into a bar bathroom just to sate their lust? That was new, and it was exciting. 

His lips covered yours as your legs shook, silencing every moan, every whimper with his tongue. It was wild, messy, your tongues clashing wildly and messily as your hips rocked violently, trying to reach that high, but also trying to make this last past his fingers. 

It wasn't to be though as you shuddered around his three digits, your orgasm ripping through you silently, leaving you wide-eyed and wide mouthed. 

“We're done,” he said, gently kissing your cheek as be stood you up, letting you stretch out the soreness in your muscles. 

“For now?” 

“Forever, Y/N. This was a mistake.”

Your heart hit the ground, and he stomped on it, but the anger filling your gut pushed up and out before he could completely bow out. 

“No,” you ground out through gritted teeth. 

“Y/N, you aren't in love with me. You feel grateful that I saved you, you feel attracted to me because I'm older and you think I can protect you, and a little part of it is that you've always been attracted to men who are dangerous. You're not in love with me, so-” 

“You sound like him.”

Shocked, he paused, and his grip on your hips tightened until his nails were biting into your skin. 

“What?” 

“You're telling me how to feel, you're telling me what to do. You sound like him.” 

“Y/N, that is unfair-” 

“Unfair is denying that I'd know how I'm fucking feeling to let you wallow in self sacrifice, Spencer. Unfair is playing the martyr when we can both see that you want this as fucking badly as I do.” 

You didn't give him a second longer to react, but grabbed him by the wrist and, making sure your skirt was once again in place, pulled him back out of the bathroom and into the club. 

Stopping by Penelope, you put his drink in his hand and grabbed yours, downing it quickly. He followed your actions, taking a sip until you were done and slamming your drink back on the table. 

Then you kept him moving, pushing doors open, hailing a cab, and climbing in with him hot on your heels.

You kept your grip on him tight until you'd marched him to his apartment. Releasing him, you flattened your back against his door, letting him slowly unlock the door as you spoke to him again finally.

“Do it, Spencer. Be my first.” 

It was like he was a different man walking over that threshold. His hand were on your face, his tongue again fighting yours as you stumbled back into the apartment, crashing into the wall, then the coffee table, and then the couch. 

You cursed in anger hitting his closed bedroom door and pushed him away to open it yourself, but his arms wrapped around you from the back and he sucked bruises against your neck as his hands grabbed your breasts and squeezed them.

His cock was rigid in his pants, and your body ached for the unknown, the soon to come pleasure that he was to deliver. 

He pushed you down onto the bed quickly, and you rolled yourself over, pulling your own dress off as quickly as possible. 

“That's my job,” he moaned, meeting your lips again as his hands fell to your underwear once again. 

“You have a long to-do list, Spencer, I'm just helping,” you smirked as he kissed you again, your hands shakily working down each button of his shirt as you acted to tear it off of him. 

“We have all night,” he replied, fingers once again rubbing at your bundle of nerves, hips pushing up and into his hands. 

“No, Spencer. No, we don't. I need you now.” 

His mouth covered yours again as you finally, finally got his shirt off, letting him throw it to the floor as you started working on his belt. Your legs spread as he inched closer, sitting between your thighs comfortably as he waited with bated breath for you to finally touch his cock.  

You knew what dicks looked like, you knew what they were supposed to feel like, but you never realised you'd want to touch one so fucking badly until his sprung from his pants. 

He took your hand and spit in it before you wrapped your fingers around him and felt the heat of his cock pulsing against you. 

He was big, long more than girthy, and you wondered how thousands of years of women had managed to survive coupling if this was the weapon meant to numb them into horny submission. 

One stroke, and you were a mess, his fingers hooking into you as you flicked your wrist up and down. 

You watched his precum rise and swiped it up in one finger, tasting it as he groaned and started thrusting up, fucking your hand as he scissored his fingers inside of you. 

He stretched you out, readying you for his thick cock, and you gladly sat there, letting him use you and ready you all at once. 

When you were ready, he wrapped his arms around you again, lifting you onto the bed properly and laying you down softly in the sheets. Kneeling to roll on the condom he'd grabbed from his bedside table, you watched in curiosity as you tried to memorize every movement, every second of him sinking into you. 

The tears in your eyes were emotion just as much as pain, your heart hammering in your ears as he whispered praise into your ear, dropping confessions like bombs. 

“You're taking me so well, Y/N, that's good…” he moaned, pushing in one inch. 

“That's it, Y/N, just a little more. I love you, you can do it,” he said, sinking in two more. 

“You feel so good, Y/N, made just for me,” he said as he finally hit your limit. 

You knew the stretch wasn't the end, and he rested there for a second, letting you get used to him before you lost patience with him. 

“Spencer just, just push through,” you grit out, and he did, snapping his hips up just that.inch or two more and sending that spark of pain through you. 

In an instant, his lips were on yours, his fingers on your clit, flooding your nerves with pleasure as all you could think of was the pain. 

But when the pain faded, there was still him, and his cock neatly sheathed inside of you. 

His hips moved languidly at first, his entire body weight pushing down on you, lazily twisting and writhing as of this were just one of your cuddles on the couch. 

You whimpered, and he moved faster, and you learnt quickly that your noises and sighs to him were what his praise was to you - motivation.

You moaned, and he picked up his pace, moving faster as you whimpered a lustful ‘yes’ into his ear. 

“Good girl, good girl, Y/N, that's it. Good girl,” he repeated, unable to say more as you whimpered and cried under him, speech lost as he split you in half with his dick.

You grew louder, and his cock buried itself deeper, your moans dragged on longer and he picked up speed. 

He whispered that you were his perfect little slut, and you jolted in his arms, cumming on his cock and screaming his name. 

He kept pumping into you, careful to make sure the condom stayed in place as he finally bottomed out and let pleasure roll through him again.

Coming down from his high, your tongue pushed into his mouth, and you rolled him over, sitting yp on his dick as he watched. 

You rose off his cock, letting him stare in wonder as your own arousal dripped off of your skin, his cock coated in arousal, and spit from his fingers and, yes, a little bit of blood. 

You crawled back and peeled off the condom, tying It quickly and discarding it before you tasted his cum quickly. 

It was just a soft lick, but it had him declaring his love for you again, and you decided that there were very few things you wouldn't do to hear those words. 

As delightful as your lips felt, though, he quickly bundled you up and forced you to the bathroom, turning on the taps in the bath and placing you on the toilet before leaving. 

Even now, after everything, he was still taking care of you. Maybe especially now. 

You finished, and he came back. More stolen kisses and moans and a bath that turned into more later, and you found yourself bundled into his spare clothes and wrapped in his arms on his couch again. 

He clicked play on another episode of Doctor Who (you'd finally reached Donna, and he was excitedly introducing you to the new character), and you finally looked up at him again.

“I love you,” you said again, loudly this time, with no fear. 

Though his training told him the response he should give, Spencer just looked down at you again and gave in to his heart. 

“I love you, too.” 

You fell asleep quickly after that, head resting over his heart, the sound of the steady beats lulling you to sleep. 

[vivwritesfics]

Grow Old With You

Bob didn't want to introduce his girl to his squad. But she was his fiance and he did want them at the wedding. When Hangman tries it on, Bob knows she really is the one

This is so fluffy I love him sm

She squeezed his hand. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to," she whispered to him.

When Bob turned to her, she fixed his hair and gently pushed his glasses up his nose. He shook his head and squeezed her hand. This was something they had to do, he knew it.

After he had been called back to Top Gun, Bob had been permanently stationed in San Diego (aside from deployment). He and the rest of his squad were kept together, ready at a moments notice to be called back to Top Gun.

After two months of living there, the most beautiful woman knocked on his door. Her car had broken down and her phone had no battery. Bob was only too happy to help. She'd introduced herself abd he introduced himself right back. Except he introduced himself as Robert. Nobody called him Robert.

"But you can call me Bob," he said quickly, correcting himself. Bob had offered her something to eat while they waited for the tow truck to arrive.

They'd spoken a lot in that time. She found out he was a Weapon Systems officer and she was fascinated. It was easy to lose track of time with Bob.

Before she knew it the tow truck was pulling up outside. While the mechanic hooked her car up, she wrote down her phone number and left it on his kitchen table, praying he would call her.

She didn't tell him she had left it. Bob couldn't help but regret not asking for her number as she climbed into the tow truck. He should have gone with her, he thought instantly. Or, at least driven her there himself.

But it was too late, and he doubted he'd ever see her again. Sighing, he headed back into his house. He didn't notice the little piece of paper on his table at first, walked past it at least four times before he finally saw it.

And, when he did see it, he immediately saved her number to his phone. He didn't text or call right away, but he didn't know how long to wait.

This wasn't his department. This was something Hangman and Rooster usually did. Part of him was itching to ask them for advice, but he wanted to keep her to himself. God knows as soon as Hangman and Rooster found out about her, it would be game over for him.

The WSO looked at his future wife, at the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He could do this. For her, he could do this.

Bob lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. "Ready," he said and pulled her towards The Hard Deck.

He couldn't very well message Rooster and Hangman, he knew that. But there was one person he could ask for advice. Nat was only to happy to help Bob with what to say. She gave him flirty lines to text to her.

But, the more that Natasha sent to him, the more things didn't feel right to Bob. He couldn't send any of these. 'You can take a ride in my cockpit ;)' and 'Are you a tarmac? Because my heart wants to land and stay with you' especially didn't feel right to him.

Bob thanked Natasha for her help, but he didn't take it. No, three days after he had met her, three days after she had left her number on his kitchen table, Bob finally messaged her.

'Hey, it's Bob'

That was all his text said. Anxiously he waited for her to text back. What if she doesn't? What if she was just being polite? What if she'd already forgotten about him?

'Hey, the WSO, right?' She had texted back. 'I was beginning to think I wasn't going to hear from you, haha'

The way Bob's heart was beating, he couldn't believe it. She was interested, and she had been waiting for him.

Bob felt the blush raising to his cheeks as he typed back a response. They texted through the afternoon, only stopping because they needed to sleep. The conversation ended with her asking him over for dinner, to repay for how he helped her when the car broke down.

The music didn't stop when they walked in. That would have been dramatic, but very fitting, thought Bob. But, the way all if his squad was staring at him, the music might as well have stopped.

She squeezed his hand and he started forward, taking her over to the squad. Only Natasha knew of her existence and, as much as Bob wanted it to, he couldn't keep things that way.

The dinner was the first date of many. Neither of them had known it was a date, not until much later in the relationship. There was a second, and then a third. On the third they found themselves on his couch, her arms around his neck as they kissed.

It was maybe two months after that third date that they realised the first dinner they had was their first date. But Bob already had the date memorised.

Bob had let her set the pace on their relationship. She was the one who had him wrapping his arms around her, she was the one jumping into hid arms after days apart and kissing him softly.

Four months of this and Bob realised that he wanted to grow old with her.

"Who the hell have you got there, Baby On Board?" Hangman called. He wasn't looking at Bob, concentrating on the woman stood beside him. As he usually did when facing a gorgeous woman, Jake wore his killer smile.

"Shut up," Natasha said to him as she strode forward. "I'm Nat, its nice to finally meet you."

Although this was her first time meeting them, Bob had been sure to tell his girl all about them. As they cooked dinner together, moving in tandem around the kitchen, he'd tell her about their first time at Top Gun, when they were all called back for a mission.

They were stories she'd never get bored of hearing. Her Bobby, the weapon systems officer.

They introduced themselves to her. One by one she shook their hands grinning at them. Bob couldn't help but feel slightly protective as she shook Bradley and Jake's hands.

As the game of pool resumed, Bob sat himself on a stool and pulled her into his chest. His hands settled over her stomach and she leaned against him as she spoke to his squad.

After a good few minutes, Bob hopped up from his seat. "I'll get us some drinks," he said and kissed her cheek. She squeezed his bicep as he walked to the bar.

As soon as Bob was out of sight, Jake came walking towards her. He was the only one she recognised from just how often her Bob complained about him. "What did Baby On Board do to get a pretty thing like you?" He asked as he leaned against the wall beside her, towering over her.

She stared at him, clearly unimpressed. "Uhm, he's sweet, lovely, a perfect gentleman and incredibly hot," she said as she looked towards the bar, searching for her Bobby.

But Hangman wasn't giving up. "Okay, so what do I have to do to get a girl like you?"

She reeled of the list she had just given him.

"Okay," he tried again, leaning closer. "What do I have to do to get you?"

She rolled her eyes. Finally Bob came back and passed her a beer. "Thank you, Bobby," she said and kissed his cheek as he wrapped an arm around her. She turned her attention back to Jake and held up her hand, revealing the ring on her finger.

"Oh," Hangman said and backed away.

Bob grinned and leaned down to kiss her. This was the woman he was going to spend his life with.

[ashwhowrites]

Hi, can i request an angst fic? insecure eddie where there is a misunderstanding with soft reader and due to his rejection trauma, he acts douchy as a defense mechanism. Soft reader, not used to get treated harshly, she turns cold. But then when eddie figured out that reader is more important than his ego, he finally trying to resolve his trauma before reconcile back with reader, although took some time and effort. Happy ending!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Push away

Eddie knew he protected his feelings to an extreme. He hurt people before they could hurt him. He refused to be close to anyone, people always left. He was horrible at relationships. The second he felt the walls caving in, he was out the door.

Not many people had good things to say about him, and he didn't give them opportunities to.

Y/N was a soft and polite girl. She was quiet but spoke passionately. Y/N didn't talk to many people, but no one had anything bad to say about her. Until Eddie Munson proved that theory wrong.

~~~

Y/N couldn't remember when her crush on Eddie surfaced, but he was all she could think about. They had some classes together, and he sat across the room but at her eye level. She could stare and daydream for as long as she wanted.

It took her weeks to get the courage to say something to him, but she was glad she did. Because after that, a friendship began.

She didn't want to scare him off with her feelings, so she settled for just being his friend first. She could get to know him and enjoy being with him without having it mean anything more.

Eddie actually really enjoyed having her around. He wasn't the best at letting anyone in, but something about her felt comforting and warm. His brain was able to shut off around her. Their friendship felt easy to him. He wasn't worried about impressing her or trying to be someone he wasn't. For once, he was able to be just friends with a girl.

They hung out mostly every day. The second school ended, she was in his van and they'd go to his trailer and watch random movies.

The one thing Y/N didn't think through, was how hard it was going to be to act like she wasn't falling for him. They kept everything at a friend level, and she wasn't sure if it was the best idea to push for more. Eddie was a loner, and she should be grateful she made it this far.

But the more they hung out, and the more he wrapped his arm around her shoulder during movies, she couldn't think straight. All she could think about was holding his hand and feeling his lips move against hers.

"What's going on in there?" Eddie's voice caused her to snap into reality. His finger lightly pushed on her forehead.

"Sorry, what?" She blushed, blinking as she moved her eyes away from Eddie's face.

"You were staring and barely moving. You seemed to be in deep thought. Penny for your thoughts?" He reached over and paused the movie. His full attention was on her as she gulped.

She didn't know what to say. There was no way she was going to confess how she felt about him. But maybe she should? He seemed to be more comfortable with her and he constantly was touching her in some type of way.

Oh for fucks sake, go for it

"I have a crush on this guy, and I can't get him out of my head." She whispered, she worried if she said it loud enough it would be more real.

Eddie wasn't sure what he felt, but it wasn't good. He almost felt hurt that she would admit that to his face. But why should he care, it wasn't like they were dating or that he even liked her that way.

"Oh, well. Why don't you ask him out?" Eddie said he tried to sound like he didn't care. He was helping a friend.

"I can't tell if he likes me back. I enjoy having him in my life and I don't want to scare him off."

"Yeah, that's fair. Maybe compliment him, get close, and lean in for a kiss. If he leans in, go for it." Eddie wanted to smack himself. He didn't want her perfect lips to be touching some loser. But again, he was just a friend and he didn't have a say in that.

"Okay, kinda like this?" She whispered, her heart racing out of her chest as she placed her palm on Eddie's thigh. The rough material of his jeans scratched against her skin as she softly moved her hand down to his knee and then back up again.

Eddie felt his breathing stop as she lingered on his thigh. He wanted to look away but her eyes had him in a daze. His stomach flipped and he hated the way he was slightly turned on. He can't be feeling like this, because then he would have to admit he felt something. He searched his brain for an escape, he tried to move his legs but he was paralyzed.

All he could do was watch in horror as she leaned in. Her eyes searched his as she moved closer, her mouth inches away from his.

"Then I'd kiss him, right?" She whispered against his lips, and before he knew it he leaned in.

She felt the weight off of her shoulders as her lips crashed on his. Her eyes closed as she savored the feeling of his soft lips against hers. Her head spun as he gripped her waist and kissed her back. Her thoughts were gone as their kiss deepened. Her hands moved up his thigh, to his chest then around his neck, he pushed her body against his. He swallowed her moans as his tongue licked her bottom lip. She didn't think twice about opening her mouth to allow his tongue to touch hers.

The moment was perfect

The moment was everything she dreamed

It was everything she needed to say the words

She pulled away breathing heavily, and her eyes fluttered open. Eddie slowly blinked, like he wasn't sure where he was as he stared at her.

Then something snapped.

His hands yanked her arms off of him and he flew off the couch. He paced fire into the floor as he walked back and forth.

"What the fuck was that!"

Y/N was taken aback by how angry he sounded. She nervously tried to form an answer.

"I did what you said." Her voice was calm but confused. "I like you, Eddie."

Her words glued his feet to the floor. He was stuck, his feet felt too heavy to pick up as his breathing picked up.

He felt it

He felt the walls caving in. The room got smaller as he struggled to breathe. Her eyes haunted him as she watched. He felt like his body was being crushed between two walls and he couldn't push them apart.

"Well don't," he spat out harshly. She felt her body flinch as his eyes glared down at her. "I mean what is wrong with you? Why did you have to fuck up the friendship we had?"

She really did not understand why he was so angry. Even if he didn't like her, that wouldn't cause him to be so agitated.

"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted me to! You didn't move my hand, and you leaned in. And you kissed me back. I mean you deepened the kiss. I thought that meant you liked me too" She apologized. She worried she might have made him uncomfortable.

"Why would I like you too? What possible idiotic theory are you basing that on?"

She tried not to cry as she stood up. She wasn't sure who the hell was across from her, because it was not the sweet boy she spent her time with.

"Why are you acting like this? I said I was sorry."

"Because I know if I allow myself to have feelings for you, you'll be the one I spend the rest of my life with," Eddie confessed, and that scared him the most.

"Would that be so bad? I know it's scary, but don't you think we should try?" She asked, she slowly moved closer to him. Her hand softly cradled his face.

Her touch turned him into ice. It was all too much and he needed her gone. He needed her out of his mind, his sight, and his life.

"Yes because I'll have to live with the regret of choosing you."

Y/N yanked her hand off of his face like he burned her. She felt like the air was kicked out of her lungs.

"Fuck you," she spat as hot tears rolled down her face. She turned around to grab her jacket off the couch. She didn't bother putting it on, she slammed the door behind her as she left.

The loud bang echoed through the trailer as the walls moved back to their normal distance. Eddie could feel the air returning to his lungs as he dropped to the floor.

He escaped

But he wasn't sure how long the escaping would feel like freedom.

~~~

Eddie figured if she was out of sight, she'd be out of his mind

But he was wrong

She never left his head. Images of her smiling and laughing. But also the image of her crying and leaving. It's been a few days and they haven't talked. He knew they wouldn't, but he didn't think he'd miss her.

He escaped but this time it felt different. It made him feel worse. There wasn't any relief on his shoulders anymore; bricks piled on until it was too heavy to even stand up.

He missed having a friend. He knew he handled the situation horribly, and he wanted to apologize for it.

~~~

Y/N tried to ignore how awful she felt. She was embarrassed and regretted ever telling Eddie she liked him. But at least he showed his true colors and she could begin moving on.

Y/N hadn't seen Eddie since the big blowout, and Monday approached faster than she wanted. She wasn't sure how seeing him would go, but she knew she would ignore him.

~

Eddie had never felt so nervous to pull up to school, a endless pit settled in his stomach as he walked through the parking lot. He kept his eye out for Y/N's car, he wasn't sure if he wanted to find it or not.

Without catching a glimpse of her, Eddie walked into the school. He planned to wait at her locker until she showed up.

~

Y/N rolled her eyes as Eddie stood at her locker.

"Move," She mumbled with a blank stare.

"Can we talk?" Eddie asked, his voice shaky.

"We are already talking more than I wanted, now move and leave me alone." The seriousness in her voice broke Eddie down a bit, but he knew he deserved it.

He nodded and walked off.

But he wasn't going to give up.

~

Y/N sat at their usual table, Eddie wasn't sure if he was welcome to sit or not. He took a deep breath and dropped his tray on the table. She looked up from her lunch and looked right back down.

Eddie coughed and picked at his tray. His eyes kept peeking up to look at her but her head was always down.

"I'm sorry for what I said," Eddie said but she didn't flinch. "It was wrong and you didn't deserve that."

Y/N let out a heavy sigh and stood up.

She looked Eddie straight in the eyes, he took a deep breath as he waited for her to speak.

But she didn't

She gathered her lunch and walked off.

~

Eddie tried to apologize every single day, he switched his words and tried to say what she needed to hear. A week of silence and he couldn't let it go further.

He knew what happened was because of his past trauma and he felt he needed to understand first. Maybe then he could give her an explanation. So, he began therapy.

Within a few appointments, he understood he pushed her away because he was in love with her.

~~~

Y/N finished writing in her journal when she heard a knock at her window. Her curtains were shut, so whoever knocked was a mystery. She slowly stood up and crept towards her window, she was a tad scared but figured a robber wouldn't be asking for entry.

She peeked through the tiny crack of her curtain and saw Eddie's familiar curls. He stood on the small balcony. She sighed and walked back to bed.

Eddie could see her shadow moving and frowned when her lap shut off. Her room was dark and he lost sight of her. But he would stay here all night if he needed to.

He knocked again and called her name, but no response.

Y/N groaned annoyed at the constant knocks, but still remained in bed.

"I'm sorry. I know I fucked up and I might not ever make this up to you. But I figured out why I reacted that way."

His words made Y/N's ears perk, and she sat up in bed.

"I pushed you away because people always left. The people that I cared for, the people I loved. When you kissed me, I loved it. I felt complete like that emptiness those people left was filled by you. So I panicked, I wanted to leave before you left me. Which was wrong. Because I shouldn't have turned on someone that I love."

Y/N gasped as the final words left his lips. She had to pick between her pride and her heart. And she wasn't positive which one led her in the right direction.

"Can I just see you?" his knock was lighter than the rest, and his voice sounded like he was on the cliff of giving up.

She got out of bed and walked to her window. She pulled back the curtain and opened her window. Eddie smiled as he saw her face.

"Hi," he whispered, afraid to speak louder and frighten her.

"Are you saying you are in love with me?"

"I'm trying to, yes. And I don't expect that to fi-"

Eddie was cut off as Y/N captured his lips in a kiss. Eddie didn't hesitate and kissed her back.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he leaned further in the window. Half his body leaned into her room as he chased her lips as she pulled away.

"It doesn't fix everything but I'm ready to forgive you and we'll fix it together." She said against his lips.

"Thank you," he whispered before he connected their lips again.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

[barcaatthemoon]

silence || lia walti x reader ||

lia doesn't think you'll come to her game while the two of you are fighting.

you hated the quiet, but you were stubborn. lia was mad at you for something, an old fight that was rehashed a few days ago. you didn't seem to get the message, so lia had left last night. there was no note, no call or text. lia packed up an overnight bag and made her way to leah's to get ready for the game. you didn't even know if lia wanted you to come, but you were going to anyway.

this game was big, and even if you weren't there for just lia, you'd go to support the friends you had made on the arsenal team. as a kid, you had played on the youth team, but eventually gave it up for a coaching career. you had spent years learning in america coaching a college team before you came back to london to take a position at a team a league down from arsenal.

you loved your job, occasionally too much. you put in way more time and effort than what was required of you to do so. lia wanted you to take a step back and relax a little, but you couldn't. that was probably the root of the fight, and regrettable things were said on both ends. neither you nor lia were innocent in this fight. you knew that you had to apologize, but you weren't sure if lia would feel the same way and that was where your apprehension came in.

it was easy enough to find your seat in the friends and family section. you always sat in the same place, generally next to the same people. since today was a big day, you found yourself sandwiched between katie's and alessia's mothers. you liked the two women, who definitely doted on you a little whenever they saw you.

sometimes, you'd sit with lia's family when they came down, but you doubted that they'd want to see you. lia had to have told someone what was going on, so you stayed in your seat. you tried to keep to your best behavior in order to not attract attention. you knew how lia could be after big fights, and the last thing you wanted to do was distract her with such a big game hanging over her head. to a lot of people, it was just another game, but you knew that a loss here would knock them out of any major tournament play chances.

"(y/n), lia said you weren't coming today." you hated how surprised alessia looked as she saw you. you rubbed the back of your neck as you awkwardly shifted your weight between your feet. "i thought you were out of town."

"is that what she told you?" you asked. alessia shook her head, but you didnt miss the guilty look on her face. "i should probably go. good job today less, that was a great goal."

you quickly shoved all of your things in your bag and tried to make a quick exit when you walked right into lia. she had her back to you, so she didn't notice who it was until you were speeding past her. the conversation with her parents was immediately cut short to chase after you, genuinely not having believed that you'd try to come see her play after the week of silence between the two of you.

lia knew that you hated not talking to her, but you wouldn't open up communication until she did. whether it was you being stubborn or just not knowing how, lia wasn't completely sure. she knew that you had a hard time opening up to anybody, and that sometimes it was easiest to give you space to work things out on your own. lia also knew that she had really hurt your feelings during your last argument, and that it was best if she didn't accidentally say something to make it worse.

"i'm really happy that you showed up," lia said as she grabbed onto your wrist. you stopped moving the moment that she touched you. "i missed you last night and this morning. are we okay?"

"yeah, i think so," you told her. lia let out a sigh of relief as she pulled you into a hug. you melted against her body, leaning heavily into her embrace. "will you come home tonight?"

"only if you're sure that you want me back. i am really sorry for what i said and for ignoring you. you'd never expect me to put my job on the backburner for you, and i can't expect you to do the same for me," lia apologized. after the week that you had, you easily would have done anything that lia wanted you to. luckily, she realized that you were living your dream the same way that she was.

"i'm sorry that i've been distant. i'll be better," you promised. lia smiled as she cupped your cheeks and leaned in to kiss you. you kissed her back eagerly, hoping to make up for all of the kisses that you had missed out on because of the fighting. "go back and celebrate with your team, i'll pick up something for dinner."

"no, come celebrate with us. i don't want to celebrate without you there too."

[httpwintersoldier]

『 bon appétit, baby. || sanji x reader 』

[PART 4 OF 4 - ONE PIECE'S KINKTOBER] - SANJI VER.

[SHANKS VER.] [BUGGY VER.] [MIHAWK VER.]

pairing: sub!sanji x f!reader words: medium-rare summary: to his relief, Sanji comes out on top in a tussle for your attention against Zoro. angst; smut; fluff.

It didn't take long after joining the Straw Hats to notice the animosity between the cook and the green-haired swordsman. Actually, it took no time - they fought throughout the whole duration of the rescue of your people from Alvida's pirates.

What you didn't notice, however, was how the fighting substancially increased after you joined.

"Yeah? Well, mouths were made for eating and speaking, mosshead, not to hold a third sword because you can't do the job with two - or gods forbid, one!" Sanji yelled, waving his knife in the air dramatically.

Zoro looked up and raised a brow, scoffing at the chef.

"At least I'm not afraid to use my hands in a fight. Scared to ruin the manicure, cook?" The swordsman replied in a teasing tone.

At this point, you were covering your ears with your hands, trying desperately to block the sound and focus on the book you were reading, but to no avail.

"Guys! Please! Can you fight somewhere else that is not a common area?"

Per your request, both men shut up, but not before mumbling some insults under their breath. Sanji resumed the dinner preparations and Zoro just left the kitchen (to sleep, you assumed).

You sighed, picked up the book and hit the opened pages against your face in frustration.

"Why are they constantly fighting? Don't they get tired? Don't you?" You asked, sliding the book back on the table and turning your head to face Nami with a desperate look, speaking in a hushed tone so Sanji wouldn't hear.

She chuckled, barely cracking a smile, and peeled her eyes off of the map she was studying.

"You know half of it is because of you, right?"

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and scoffed.

"Me? What, they didn't want me here on the crew?..." You asked, slightly sad and completely misunderstanding what the crewmate meant.

Nami rolled her eyes, as if the answer was right in front of you and you refused to see it.

"Oh Y/N, they want you alright... The issue is that the both of them want you in their room with them. And not many clothes in between, if you catch me." She explained further, raising her eyebrows as she spoke in a suggestive tone.

Your face became hot and you let out a nervous chuckle.

"What?... You're seeing things, Nami. Sanji flirts with everyone and Zoro flirts with no one. How would you even notice?"

"Oh trust me, it's noticeable. Zoro actually talks to you like a normal person and he always keeps an eye on you when we're fighting. And Sanji... the way he looks at you is completely different than anything I've seen before, I don't even know how to describe it."

"If you say so..." You say in disbelief, turning back to your book as Nami sighed.

You couldn't focus on your reading, however. Your head was full of thoughts, scenarios and 'what ifs?'. Wondering how Sanji looked at you really, how would it be to date Zoro, and, if it actually came down to it, who would you choose and how would you even do it...

On one hand, Sanji was a big sweetheart, he was dedicated and you were sure the man would do anything in his power to make you happy, but he was quite clingy and desperate. On the other hand, Zoro would go above and beyond to keep you out of harms way and to keep you by his side, but he could be quite cold and monotone...

Dinner time came and went and you were particularly mindful of the two men and how they interacted with you. And, to your surprise, you actually caught on to some things you had missed before... The both of them would sometimes steal shy glances at you, they'd make sure to brush their hand against yours when passing something around the table, they'd always jump in and ask for your opinion on a matter being discussed... You wondered if Nami was actually right... And if so, how had you missed it for so long? How were you so oblivious?...

When lights went out in the ship and you could hear Luffy's snores, you were still awake - shifting, tossing and turning in bed. Suddenly the pillow was too hot, the sheets were too stuffy and the matress was too tough.

What now? What were you supposed to do with the information? Make a move? A decision?

The day had been spent with questions roaming around in your head and even when you tried to sleep, the interrogations allowed you no rest - in the back of your mind you wished Nami hadn't told you anything...

"Fuck!" You groaned, tugging at your own hair.

You stood up, the wooden floor creaking under your feet, and decided that a cup of whatever Zoro kept in the kitchen would do the trick and lay you to sleep. You had undressed completely, hoping to release yourself from the suffocating feeling of the sheets, but you decided against going naked to the kitchen and picked up the night gown you had thrown on the ground not long ago.

The pink nightgown was made of silk, with baby pink lace appliques on the bottom and on the neckline. Honestly, it left very little to the imagination - it sat just below your asscheeks, letting them peek out when you walked, and the silk perfectly outlined your hardened nipples - but it was better than being naked, and you were too tired to care.

To your surprise, the kitchen light was on. You opened the door slightly to find Sanji playing around with some ingredients. The cook was often flirty or goofy, but his serious and concentrated face was... mesmerizing. That was the only possible word to describe it. His already big, blue eyes seemed to get bigger and shine brighter. The man's jaw was clenched in pure focus and the way he'd flip his fringe out of his face from time to time was absolutely adorable. You had never seen this façade of his, and it was interesting, hot, even.

You leaned against the doorframe as you watched him intently, completely forgetting about your thirst and need for alcohol.

When you saw him carefully place one last element with the tweezers and stand back with a proud smile on his face staring at his creation, you giggled.

The sound made the cook jump, placing a hand over his heart. His visible eye was widened as he stared at you. When Sanji realized who it was, he sighed and calmed down.

"Are you trying to kill me, pretty?" The man asked with a smile, steadying himself by placing his hands on the counter in front of him.

You step inside, closer to him, and as you do he isn't able to peel his eyes off of your exposed thighs, the way your tits bounce under the thin fabric, or the way your nipples are hard and visible.

"Sorry chef, didn't want to disturb you..." You apologised with a smile.

Sanji observed as you walked over to the fridge, each step giving him a teasing peek of your ass.

"It's alright darling, you never do disturb me." The cook managed to blurt out between thoughts of bending you over every surface and fucking you.

You take out a nameless bottle that belonged to Zoro and pour yourself a cup.

Sanji furrowed his brows, looking at the cup.

"Something's wrong, beautiful? It's usually not a good sign when people drink alone at..." the man pauses, looking at the clock "4am."

You were more than used to Sanji's nicknames, but today they seemed to mean something else. The little pet names along with his deep voice and accent made something inside your stomach twist and turn.

"I'm okay just... can't sleep. Figured some of this would do the trick since Zoro is always sleeping." You said with a chuckle.

Sanji tried to hide it, but you noticed how his smile faltered a little and how his jaw tightened ever so slightly at the mention of his apparent foe.

"Mosshead does sleep a lot." The cook agreed in a mumble.

"Why do you bicker so much?" You asked as you brought the cup up to your lips.

You leaned your side against the counter and Sanji's eyes followed the curve of your hip.

"Let's just say we have common interests." The man cheekily replied, thinking he was being enigmatic and wasn't giving away too much.

And usually you wouldn't have understood what he meant, had Nami not given you that beautiful, important piece of information that afternoon.

You chuckled and set the cup down on the counter next to you. You licked your lips as you stepped closer to the man. His body tensed slightly, but he didn't move away.

"So it's true..." You mumbled, looking at him,

"What's true, gorgeous?" He asked, hoping his blush would go unnoticed (it did not).

Your caressed his cheek with your hand and the cook couldn't help but lean into your touch.

"Nami told me something today..." Sanji placed his hand on top of yours, caressing it with his thumb, as you stepped even closer, your chests almost touching "She said that you and Zoro fight so much because you both wanted me... is this true?"

Sanji's heart was beating out of his chest and his face was on fire. The man cleared his throat, in the best attempt of not giving away his nervousness (and the overwhelming sense of lust your simple touch gave him).

"There might be a little truth to that, princess..." He said lowly, his eyes shifting between your lips and your eyes.

"I guess I should make a choice now, shouldn't I..." You said, not really asking a question, but debating with yourself.

You spent some time in a tense silence - not a word was exchanged, and not a breath was heard.

He then watched as your tits and thighs jiggled when you jumped to sit on the counter. Your slightly separated legs gave him a beautiful view of your inner thighs and he swore he could see your panties. Sanji was salivating like a dog at the sight of your body and he wanted nothing more than for you to suffocate him and ride his face, yet he awaited your response.

"What's the choice gonna be, sweetheart?" Sanji asked, as he took your stance as an invitation for him to get closer and place his hands on your thighs.

The cook tilted his head to the side every so slightly, your breaths mixing in front of you.

You gripped his shirt and pulled him closer to you, catching his lips in a passionate, animalistic kiss. You could feel his need and desperation in the exchange, which was to be expected from someone who had apparently waited so long to do this to you. What you didn't expect was the equal need you felt within yourself - you too were desperate to feel him, desperate for his touch.

Sanji definitely wasn't the quiet type - the cook wanted you to know how good you made him feel, especially when you rolled your hips against his and he felt your pussy against his hardened cock.

The man shamelessly moaned and groaned into the kiss, gripping your thighs harshly, pulling your crotch as close as possible to his.

When you pulled away from him, breathless, your lips were red and swollen.

Sanji's eyes sparkled when looking at you, and that's when you understood that you had him wrapped around your finger.

Your hand reached behind his head and, at first, you caressed his hair. But after a second you gripped his hair in your fist and gave it an experimental tug. Sanji's brows furrowed slightly and a small moan escaped past his lips.

"You like that kind of stuff?" You asked with a lustful expression.

Sanji looked away, shy and embarrassed, but gave you a small nod.

Seeing the man that oozed with confidence in each step he took crumble in front of you and become shy awoke something inside of you - you wanted to ruin him and his pretty face.

"I wanna ride your face."

Your eyes widened as well as the cook's, as you thought of that, but didn't mean to say it out loud. Before you could apologise for being too forward with your words, Sanji kissed you, a deep yet short kiss.

"I-I want that." His eyes were half lidded from lust and embarrassment, as he confessed that.

You climbed down from the counter and grabbed his hand. As you opened the door, you bent over slightly to take a peek at the hallway making sure you were alone. As you did so, your nightgown rode up your body, revealing more of your ass. Sanji couldn't help but to run his fingertips from your thighs up to your asscheeks.

"I really wanna fuck this pretty ass of yours, Y/N..." The man admitted, slapping each of your cheeks.

You turned around and gripped his collar with one hand, bringing his face closer to yours.

"I call the shots here, pretty boy, okay?" You asked soflty and pecked his lips when he agreed to follow your lead.

You grabbed his hand once more and sneakily brought him to your room, locking the door behind you. Sanji's ears perked at the sound of the lock - it made him excited, as if what you were doing was a forbidden little secret not to be found.

Sanji sat on the bed, like an animal awaiting for his owner's instructions. The cook groaned and threw his head back as he saw you dispose of your panties, giving the quickest yet sweetest view of your pussy.

You walked over to him and straddled his lap, placing your wet pussy right on top of his painfully hard cock, as you captured his lips in yet another violent kiss.

As your tongues fought and teeth clashed, your hands sneaked onto his chest and pushed him down onto the matress, never breaking the kiss, so he'd be laying down and you'd be on top of him.

Sanjis hands roamed freely on your body, mostly sticking to grabbing your ass and thighs, sneakily feeling how wet you were with the tips of your fingers.

When you pulled his hands off of his body and began lifting yourself up, Sanji felt a shiver run down his spine out of excitement, and he watched as you straddled his head, each thigh on each side, giving him a perfect view of your pussy. His eyebrows furrowed and he moaned at the sight - the man was sure he was going to cum from looking at it alone.

You hovered over his face, making sure he could reach your pussy.

"Oh no princess, no hovering."

Before you complain, Sanji's hands gripped your ass and forced your pussy down onto his face. You instantly let out a mewl and gripped his hair as your hips moved to an almost rhytmic pace.

Sanji moaned from your sweet taste and from the not-so-subtle hair tugs. His mouth ate you out like he was a professional and a starving man.

"S-shit Sanji- keep this up and I won't last much longer..." You said, breathlessly, earning only a moan in return.

The vibrations and the small sucking and biting Sanji sneaked in while eating you out drove you insane, and he knew to keep doing it from the way you moaned louder and gripped his hair tighter.

Your hips' rhytm sped up and you could feel your orgasm coming- it was too good for you to be able to last longer. Just as it was about to hit you, however, you wondered how good his cock would fuck you compared to the efficiency of his tongue and pulled yourself off of him. Your thighs were weak after almost cumming, but you managed to pull yourself off.

Sanji's face was glistening, no doubt a mix of your juices and his spit, and he watched through lustful eyes as you sat on his clothed cock once more and wrapped your hand arounnd his neck, bringing his face closer to yours.

You kissed him, tasting yourself on his tongue, while your hands unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off of him. You then kissed Sanji's neck and down his torso, feeling his muscles tense under the hand that trailed down his body.

You kneeled between his legs and slowly removed his pants and underwear. The cook's cock slapped against his abdomen, his tip red and swollen, leaking with precum. You could swear you were salivating at the sight of his cock.

Just as your hand gripped the base of his dick and your mouth opened, Sanji's hand grabbed your chin, makikng you look up at him.

"Please... Please don't." The man pleaded breathlessly "I'm- I'm gonna cum in your mouth the second you suck me off princess..."

You chuckled and bit your lip, rising up to your feet as you removed the skimpy nightgown.

"Fuck..." Sanji groaned at the sight of your body.

You allowed him to caress your hips while you sat back on his lap, straddling the man as his cock pressed against your folds.

You pressed your lips against his, slowly rising up and grabbing his cock. You placed it on your entrance and sank down on his dick gently. Sanji's mouth fell agape mid-kiss, and his eyes didn't open but his brows furrowed and a desperate moan left his lips.

The way his hands gripped your ass reminded you that he was still touching you, and that couldn't be - you liked to see him desperate and begging.

"From now on," You said, removing his hands from your body and gripping his shoulders for stability "no touching me. I want to fuck myself on you, I want to use you."

Sanji didn't care who heard, he only wanted you to know how good you made him feel. As he heard that sentence, the man groaned loudly and gripped the sheets - a mix of frustration from not being able to touch you, and pleasure, from the way his cock disappeared inside of you.

"You feel so fucking good." Sanji admitted, mouth agape and eyes fixated on the way your tits bounced in front of his face.

"S-shit- You fill me up so well Sanji."

The way you moaned his name was music to his ears. Sanji's moans and groans grew louder and more lewd, as his knuckles turned white from the force with which he gripped the sheets.

"Y/N I- I can't hold on much longer-"

Luckily for him, you had previously edged yourself on his mouth, so you were on the same page on that front.

"Yeah baby? Like it when I fuck myself on you? When I use you?" You whispered in his ear.

"I love it when you use me- shit! Please, please let me touch you, please!" He begged in the hottest whine you'd ever heard.

"T-touch me, baby-"

Sanji's hands immediately flew to your ass, grabbing and slapping it as his lips bit and sucked on your neck. Your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders as you felt your climax approach once more.

When you felt his cock twitch inside of you, you grabbed his face and smashed your lips together, effectively shutting up your cries and moans as he filled you up and you came on his cock.

You rode out your orgasm, feeling his dick soften inside of you. You pulled away from his lips as the cook helped you lift yourself up and off his cock. You both watched in awe as his cum dripped from your cunt.

You sighed and buried your face on the crook of his neck.

"You don't get to act shy now, gorgeous." Sanji joked, one hand caressing the small of your back and the other caressing your hair.

"I'm not shy! Just... tired..." You lied, not knowing that you even had it in you to do what you had done to Sanji just then.

Sanji picked you up and laid you on the bed slowly, as if you'd break if he was too rough with you, and spooned you from behind.

"Let's rest then, beautiful..."

You turned around to face him.

"Hey... Sanji?"

The man peeled his eyes open, and a small 'hm?' left his lips.

"Do you think they heard us?" You asked in a whisper, as if telling him a secret, earning a tired smile from him.

"They definitely did, princess."

[yeeterthek33per]

Meet you maybe never (Pernille Harder x Magdalena Eriksson x Reader)

A/n Sort of requested. This one's been in the to be done pile for a while, and I wasn't entirely sure about it, but I knew I wanted to write it. Hardersson need more love, and I will go to the grave saying this.

Content/Warning(s): Fluff, mild angst (really have to squint bc honestly), Artist R.

Part one in a new series of mine. Let me know how I went, guys.

Pernille's sigh of exhaustion holds a familiar weight in Magdalena's mind.

One that she shares greatly, considering she also shares the exact reason for it.

Moving is a pain in the ass.

However many boxes they'd carried up the stairs to their new shared Munich apartment remains to be seen, given that she didn't remember packing this many boxes.

The place has certainly been well maintained, and everything feels brand new too, so they were both very happy with the turnout.

In saying that, unpacking is going to be a nightmare.

Sure, it was a spacious place, and they have several other rooms to work with, but now with boxes in place, their concerns lie with furniture, only being left with a bare mattress and two camp chairs until they could get around to going furniture shopping.

Looking over from her position leant back against the wall, having set down the final box in the living room, she spots her girlfriend lying flat on her back on the cool floorboards, arm draped over her face dramatically.

An amused smile crosses her lips, and she chuckles, moving to sit cross-legged next to the blonde on the floor, hand patting her stomach.

"All good, Love?"

Pernille hums softly, although given the grimace on her face, it's more like a groan than anything.

"Perfect. Just perfect."

Magda holds back a laugh, letting her hand fall to rest on her girlfriend's arm, caressing the skin above where it had fallen to rest over her eyes.

"We'll get there, Love. It's not like you haven't done it before."

"And every single time, I'm reminded how painfully exhausting it is."

The defender simply chuckles, nodding her head as her hand migrates to the woman's hair, gently carding her fingers through the light blonde tresses.

Humming softly, she shifts to lay her head in the younger woman's lap, looking up at her with a small affectionate smile that's returned with a loving look in the swede's eyes.

"Hi."

She playfully taps the defender on the nose.

"Hi."

There's a soft giggle from the light blonde.

"Love you."

Magda's small smile turns into a bigger one as she moves her hand to cradle her face.

"Love you, too."

Maybe moving to Munich isn't all that bad.

--------------------------

"Magda, come look at this."

"One second love, this dining set would go pretty well with-"

She looks around her when she notices isn't beside her.

"Babe?"

She calls out.

"Come look."

She wanders over to where Pernille is pointing, a wall across the street visible through the furniture store's windows.

It's painted in varying stages of forest greens, baby blues, and over the top is a beautiful landscape of what they assume to be the German countryside.

A little cottage on a hill, in front of a rising morning sun, brilliant oranges, and reds contrasting the background greens and blues.

"That's gorgeous, we should go have a look later."

"Let's go look now."

"But we have to-"

Pernille's already out the door before Magda can stop her, leaving the swede to sigh softly and walk back out the door after her excited girlfriend.

The painting up close is intricate with little design details that you wouldn't find unless you looked up super close.

Little details, like the bricks on the little cottage, aren't actually solid bricks but aligned words like quiet, peace and home.

The sun is made up of faintly written words of bright, future, and Pernille tells Magda, the German word for Happiness.

It's feels so planned out and thought out, they spend a long time looking over each detail, feeling every line and ridge of paint on the wall.

A local actually stops to tell them about it when they ask.

It'd been there for a couple years, having no idea who'd painted it. It just appeared one day.

They decide they love the piece, snapping a photo of it to show to family and friends for later.

--------------------------

"Shit."

You barely feel the wall against your back in the cold.

Winter in Germany is not a fun time to be outside, and yet your stupid bored brain decided it needed to scratch an itch right now.

Waiting to be pick the perfect blank canvas, you had to duck behind a bricked off area while wearing your mask.

It covers most of your face bar a small gap for your eyes.

You hadn't exactly been subtle before and you'd already been photographed wearing it.

The last thing you needed right now was the press up your ass, or worse, the police.

Unfortunately, no matter where you are in the world, paparazzi are terrifyingly aggressive.

Quickly slipping away over another wall, you hop over a bin and find a blank, almost white wall, perfect height and size.

Assessing it for a second and checking for anu nearby vantage points that people could see you in and finding none in the low rise area.

You quickly drop your backpack, rifling through the old thing for your spray caps, and move to get to work.

It had come to you earlier and had been what had initially started the itch, said itch having been in the middle of a work meeting that you could not wait to get out of.

There would always be satisfaction in the way the lines matched up and swirled around others.

This time, though, it wasn't just a colourful background to look at.

You wanted to leave something on top of it, and you knew this one would take time.

Thankfully, you knew this area of buildings was mostly abandoned due to high levels of restructuring, so getting caught by locals wasn't an issue.

It was the occasional roaming tourist that gave you worry.

Pulling out a piece of charcoal, you use it to sketch out the baselines, not wanting to get ahead of yourself again, like you had last time when you spent far too long changing little mistakes made by using black paint first, leading to your biggest issue in the first place.

A public image to the mysterious artist of Munich.

Not something you need right now.

Sighing, you roll your head side to side, eyeing up the now line drawing in front of you

It looks pretty good.

It seems frustration helps you work better.

Unlike quite a few of the lackeys you know at work.

You roll your eyes at that.

Popping your achingly cold knuckles, you admire the lines for a moment longer.

This is one you want people to see, like many of your others, only more important.

It was a big thing for you, and you knew it would finally do something for the right people.

Now, just to fill it in and get the hell out of there.

--------------------------

Magdalena and Pernille get a welcoming party with the team.

The captain, Glódís, introduces herself to the pair.

They immediately find the woman incredibly welcoming from the get-go, a warm smile to pair with the kind words and introductions to the staff at the party.

"And finally, you've met him already, but, our beloved man in charge, Alex Straus."

Alex shakes both of their hands.

"Lovely seeing you ladies again, even if it's only been a couple of hours."

He pauses to chuckle softly and then gestures around him.

"I can only hope you're settling in well. The girls are eager to get started on the season with you both."

The nod from the Icelander confirms that with a small chuckle, herself, the lot of them pestering her about the team's newest signings, having to remain tight-lipped until they could meet them in person tonight.

She gestures over to the not-so-subtly excitedly waiting group of women in the room.

"Better go introduce yourselves. Otherwise, I fear they might have my head for hogging you both."

The couple giggle softly at that.

Pernille's the first to settle with the girls.

Having spent four years with Wolfsburg made it so she had to learn German if she wanted to keep up with the banter, so she's into the mix of things quite quickly.

Particularly with the international players who all find immediate common ground with someone who they've played against many times over the years, especially after the most recent World Cup.

Georgia tucks the Dane under her arm, officially claiming her already, and latches onto Magda not soon after, both of them attaching to the Englishwoman right away.

"Finally, after who knows how long of losing to these two at City, I get my transfer here and the find the next season, the ol' captain and striker who gave me so much strife playing against Chelsea, followed me here."

There's so good-natured ribbing, and Georgia pokes Magda in the ribs in particular.

"What, can't take a little Chelsea blue, Gee?"

Magda pushes back of course, competitive as she is.

"Pft, you and I both know Manchester Blue is the best blue."

The swede scoffs.

"You wish, Stanway."

"Nah, it's just facts, Eriksson."

The rest of the group giggles, knowing this fast friendship was going to be an entertaining one.

--------------------------

It seems it doesn't take long.

News of the artwork in Munich spreads like wildfire, catching the attention of your bosses almost immediately.

There was no way they would allow the media team to share this, considering the illegal nature of the piece, but they weren't displeased with it's sudden appearance, nor the traction it's gaining either.

It's a big thing for them.

It means more attention on the club, and it means more support from people because of how much they love the artwork.

That was an ego boost and a half.

Now, as you stare at the image on the projector board, you start doing what you always do and pick apart the piece.

Somethings not quite right with it, you think.

"Ms L/n, what do you think of this new development?"

Trying to appear as though you were paying attention, you look around at the other board members around you.

"I think it's the perfect opportunity for our latest news to gain attention. It certainly won't hurt that those players will gain attention, too."

Pausing to think for a moment before adding.

"Of course, there is always the risk of bad attention, especially from the press, but we can deal with that like we always do."

Another pause for a moment.

You glance over to the projector with the photo of the mural, rubbing your jawline softly, noting that something just felt off about the piece all of a sudden.

The eyes aren't right, there's not enough curve to the jaw.

You can't figure it out yet.

The itch returns for a moment before you continue, avoiding starting up too much on the itch.

"And with the good press, the club will gain more support from fans who will follow the players here, too. We should try and boost the promotion while we're at it. I'm aware the media team is doing the usual, but let's get in on the waves these two seem to be making while we're at it. Does anyone have any ideas?"

A woman further down the table pipes up.

"We can set up for some get to the know the players videos, have some meet and greets, send some of the veteran players with them over to a couple different plazas?"

A soft nod from you in agreement.

"Sounds good. We can let the media team handle the rest. Please. Stephen. Continue."

He nods before flipping to the next item on the agenda.

"Thank you, Director."

Nodding at the man, you turn back to your papers, scribbling small notations every so often, once again.

It seems the board aren't against it.

Good.

For now, you'd just have to encourage the publicity of the piece.

Not yourself.

--------------------------

With training beginning within a couple of days of moving to Germany, it doesn't take long for whispers of the piece to make it to the gossip in the changing room.

Magda and Pernille don't realise what it's about until they ask what all the fuss is.

Some of the younger girls had been fawning over a photo taken from a distance, the piece lit up perfectly under the early setting winter sun.

Catching the sight of it over the shoulder of one of them, they ask about the name attached to it.

Scrawled in the caption, something catches Pernille's eye, having some knowledge of written German.

'Straßengänger'

Streetwalker.

"Who's that?"

She directs the question towards the younger Dutch girl on the team, Jill Baijings.

"Eh, a popular street artist, though they aren't really known aside from the name. Their stuff is really good, though."

She holds the phone closer to the women.

"Have you seen this yet?"

Pernille looks closer at the image, brows raising in surprise, with a soft muttered 'oh'.

The red, blue and baby blue, apparently FC Bayern themed background, made the highly realistic greyscale portraits pop nicely.

It was a promotional image for them.

As in Magdalena and Pernille.

Words scribbled under the image read,

"Welcome to Munich, Magda and Pernille!"

The image itself is beautiful.

It's an image of their faces in what is most likely both stages of goal celebration, screaming with victory, eyes crinkled and wide smiles, paired together over the gorgeous pattern, highlighting it perfectly.

It almost doesn't look real in the photo. But it's still very awe-inspiring to see.

Fans always have the most talent when it came to art like that, and it never ceases to amaze them.

Magda peers over her shoulder beside her, letting her appreciation for the art be known with a low whistle.

"Honestly, you guys will have to see it in person, though. it's so much better when you can get up close to it. All of their artworks always are."

"What did you say the name was, again?"

"Straßengänger."

"What does that mean?"

It comes from Magda.

"Streetwalker. We don't actually know where the name came from, whether it was the artist themself or the locals but either way."

They both nod, humming thoughtfully.

Maybe they would have to check it out.

--------------------------

You know coming back is a bad idea, but you love the piece too much to not come back to it, knowing it would irk you to not get a better stance on anything that might need fixing, despite your best efforts to ignore the itch.

Of course, this time, without the mask on because that be even stupider.

Going back to the scene of the crime wearing exactly the attire that would incriminate you.

Standing back from a distance, you snap a photo under the settling sun in the cooling weather.

Something catches your attention off to the left, a pair walking down the sidewalk, well, more strolling slowly then anything.

Linked arm in arm and bundled far less than a lot of people would be for winter weather, they're wearing coats but braving the cold with thin material pants and shoes.

It's not that that catches your attention, though.

It's more your unabashedly gay side that notices them.

It seems you've caught the attention of your art's subjects.

Because here they are, noticing it finally, standing back admiring your work of them.

You quietly step away, but still close enough to hear the soft murmuring of them, being the only people on the street at this dying hour, you can hear them amongst the small breeze passing over the road.

They're definitely speaking Swedish because you can't make out what they're saying, only understanding the familiar lilt and tone of surprise in their words.

"Det är vackert."

"Varför oss?"

"Jag vet inte men det är fantastiskt."

You're about to walk away when Pernille walks closer to it, running her hand over the dried paint, her eyes moving over the piece slowly.

You notice she's tracing the underlying wording, realising she must have seen your art before to notice it that quickly.

As you keep a subtle eye on her, she's standing in the fading rays of sunlight, giving her a soft golden glow.

Her girlfriend moves to wrap her arms around her and it's then you see both of them a little differently to before you'd seen them in person.

They're absolutely beautiful, together and individually, and you realise you haven't captured that properly with your latest work.

It gives you another itch.

--------------------------

"You know, we have to meet this person."

Magdalena hums softly in agreement, hands running over Pernille's shoulders, staring up at the wall, eyes tracing the lines, the shading and the shape work, particular over the little footballs making up the swirls on the O in Welcome.

Her hand moves to her pupils in the portrait, paying attention to the way they're made up of shining stars.

The same with Magda's portrait.

There's a soft shuffle from behind them, and Magda's head swivels to look up at the source for a moment.

You're standing there, looking down at your phone, a soft smile on your face as you tap away at it.

She'd seen you standing there earlier already, taking photos, so she doesn't pay you much mind in the end, and you turn and walk away, putting the phone to your ear.

Although, there is mild niggle of curiosity, she brushes it off.

You're probably just another tourist looking at the piece.

"Come on, we have to head back soon or we'll start freezing out here."

"Few more minutes, Magda... Where's all those Swedish genes gone huh?"

Pernille teases the taller woman, poking her in the cheek.

Magda rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

"Yeah, yeah, real funny, babe."

Pernille chuckles, leaning back into the Swede.

She was right, though.

She had to find whoever did this.

The curiosity was getting to Magda, too.

Why them?

Of any of the influential people in Munich.

Or just any of the women's players.

Why them?

She has so many questions.

--------------------------

"And last but certainly not least, welcome to our newest signings, Magdalena and Pernille. Thank you for joining us and we hope you enjoy your stay here at FC Bayern."

The FC Bayern committee room erupts with a small applause from the players and board members before them who were all called in for a club wide meeting, even receiving a small whoop from Georgia in the back that makes the players around her either chuckle or roll their eyes at her.

"Now, handing off to our creative director."

"Danke, Herbert."

Stepping up onto the podium, the person immediately catches Magda's attention.

It's you.

The woman from the other day in town, at the wall.

There you are, climbing the steps up to the podium, black blazer jacket and blue jeans, half tucked with a white button up and a FC Bayern logo embroidered on the jacket pocket.

Pernille notices it, too.

"Now, I know this probably going to be the boring part but I'll try and keep it simple and just go over what our plan is for the next few months."

Looking out over the group, you keep your best public smile on.

"Don't worry, you don't have to remember any of this, as you'll be reminded as each one comes up so we don't miss anybody."

As you start to list off each of the latest marketing events and programs, your eyes shift over the players in their seats, despite the usually tired response at your while lilted, droning about the business side of things, you make eye contact with a very vigilant looking certain pair.

Your eyes crinkle mildly as you fight off too much of wide smile.

"There's a few meet and greets we want to go ahead with before the start of the season, including our newest signings, men and women, we'll send the details to those involved later."

You pause for a moment, eyeing up the latest of the new men and women in the crowd, placing back on the Scandi couple for a second before drifting and continuing.

"And, finally, we have an unfortunately mandatory promotional event on the third of October. It is also a black-tie event, so even me, who as many of you know already, shows up to everything wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, will have to dress up, please do the same. Thank you for listening everyone."

"Thank you, Director."

Taking a seat back with the crowd, it's almost like you can feel a pair of eyes on the back of your head.

You don't turn to face them, though, already knowing exactly who it is.

After the meeting is adjourned, you stand and ready to leave back to your office when a body stands in front of you.

A familiar tall Swede.

"Hey, I don't believe we've met properly."

"I'm Y/n L/n, creative director here at FC Bayern München."

"Magdalena Eriksson, although you already know that, it seems."

You smile, nodding and extending a hand out to her.

She shakes with a warm but firm grip, leaving the skin tingling a little.

She really is much more beautiful in person.

"It's lovely meeting you, Magdalena-"

"Call me Magda, feels a bit much for a full name, now."

"Lovely meeting you, Magda."

Letting go of her hand, you bid her as polite a goodbye as you can give, knowing any longer and you'd gay panic yourself into a problem, you make your way towards the door.

As you shift through the small crowd of players, nodding and smiling in acknowledgement to those who do know you or have met you, you exit the room swiftly, heart mildly racing.

You'd seen the look of recognition in her eyes, not from knowing who you are at Bayern, but perhaps somewhere else.

You aren't risking it.

--------------------------

First and second training with the team went as smoothly as it could for any new team members.

However, their third is a little less cathartic.

Having to do extra medical assessments and fitness testing before being able to join the team, everything had been hurting that day.

They arrive home to their shared apartment almost completely worn down from the session.

At home, in their new apartment, finally furnished, for the most part, they both agree to get an early night's rest.

Annoyingly though, they can't seem to find it in them to sit still and toss and turn for the next hour or so, both of them in agreement they weren't sleeping right now.

They head out for another stroll through the quieter parts of the city, instead, taking a bus out there for the first ten minutes or so.

Hand in hand, they stroll down the quiet village-esque side of Munich, just breathing in the cool air, occasionally stopping to admire the rustic, olden style.

It's in the really silent part of town that they notice something.

The distinct sound of... a rattling can?

A spray can to be exact.

Pernille nods in the direction of a small alley, Magda initially shaking her head no, not sure if they should really confront someone who could be possibly dangerous or someone associated with the law.

Of course, the Dane sneaks over anyway to peek into the alley.

There, a figure stands with their back to them, hand wrapped around a baby blue can of spray paint.

The painting looks halfway done.

It's a portrait.

Of Pernille.

The woman's eyebrows just about fall off her face at the surprise and she turns back to her girlfriend who's waiting anxiously, looking about three seconds from dragging Pernille to the next taxi back to their apartment.

She gestures quietly to whisper to her over the cold wind howling through the gaps in the buildings.

"It's that artist."

"I figured, but we really shouldn't be associating with them. C'mon, we have to leave."

"Magda, c'mon, this is our chance to meet the person behind that mural."

A bit of back and forth before Pernille peeks her head around the corner to look, again.

This time, though, the person is bent down, rifling through their backpack, and a spray cap.

When Pernille turns back to a now very concerned Magda, she whispers in her ear.

"Just another minute. Just have a look at least."

The Swede very reluctantly agrees, looking for herself.

Concern is the first thing to pop into her mind.

This one is just of Pernille, accentuating the woman's eye colour and bright smile.

Is the artist, infatuated?

A million thoughts an hour as she watches the smooth, almost mesmerising way their hands trace lines and fill gaps.

When you pull out a paint marker to start with smaller details, she turns back to her girlfriend.

"Are they obsessed with us or something? This feels a little weird at this point."

Pernille frowns, almost shaking her head to disagree.

As the woman's about to answer, there's suddenly some shuffling, almost unnoticeable jingling of zippers and a body sat up on a short wall on the other side of the walkway, bag back on their shoulders once more.

"Actually, I'd say it's more an appreciation for a pair of legends in Munich."

They both startle heavily, Magda going into protective mode, arm around Pernille, pulling herself in front of the woman fully.

--------------------------

The pair of them peeking on you were about as subtle as a whistle among bells.

Figuring you'd have to finish it later, you pack up swiftly, ensuring your mask sits on your face correctly before sneaking out of the alleyway to sit up on a wall above them.

After a not-so-much needed scare, you raise your hands in a surrender gesture.

"I won't hurt you. I just figured I should say hello personally since you're both here and all."

Magda looks nervous, and you can see the curiosity in Pernille's eyes from where you're casually seated.

"Although, I do suggest not sticking around. It's going to be a PR nightmare for the three of us if you're seen with the Straßengänger."

You punctuate the nickname with air quotes.

As you're about to jump up to climb onto the rook and make a swift disappearance of yourself, you hear one of them yell out to you.

Hesitating, you turn back to the pair.

"Why us?"

Pernille's brilliant grey-blue eyes look up at you, a radiance of dying curiosity in them as she holds her girlfriend's hand to calm the woman.

You stop for a moment before shrugging.

"A pair of beautiful women in the biggest sport and uprising for women. Why not you?"

It's there Magda gets a unrecognisable look on her face and you decide to leave it there.

With that, you scramble up onto the building, annoyed with yourself for having dragged ALL of your gear with you and also for leaving a half finished work behind.

A day or so later.

Luckily for you, no one else seems to stumble upon your work just yet, and with much scouting and caution, you find yourself back in that alley finishing what you started.

Making sure to adjust the shine in the subject's eyes to fit exactly how they shone up at you the day previously.

This time, the representation of the Danish captain seemed far closer to the spectacle she is in real life.

You're pleased with yourself for this one.

And it's scratched half the itch you'd had days prior.

Now for the other half.

--------------------------

After their sudden meeting with the Straßengänger, Magda and Pernille are left with more questions than answers.

They both agree to just return home for the night, knowing it's a question for another day when they aren't in the middle of an already chaotic media storm.

After that, they get swept up in everything Bayern and put everything about the artist to the back of their minds.

Their first match is approaching fast and Alex already has Pernille in the starting lineup, so she gets distracted in preparation for that, finding herself busy studying the formation and technique of an entirely new team.

So much so, that she almost... almost forgets about the mural maker.

Although...

There's just one question that bugs Pernille constantly, despite her best efforts to focus fully on their new path in Germany.

Magdalena feels much the same.

"Who are you, really, Straßengänger?"

--------------------------

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Beef

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Requested : "Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?" EDIT: I saw this same request being written by another writer and I want to say, don't send multiple writers the same exact request. I find this super disrespectful.

This one took some turns of its own while writing, I hope it's to your liking!!

When his group first came to the community you were excited. Finally you'd have a real huntsman around to share experiences with, you had missed it so bad.

Before the fall your family owned a shop, your father a butcher and your mother a taxidermist. You and your siblings learned every skill from hunting to skinning, prepping and using each part of the animal so none would go to waste. You hadn't hunted in so long, you weren't sure if you still could hunt succesfully. Even now you'd donate large, strong antlers and bones to the blacksmith in Hilltop to use in weaponmaking. You donated the furs you didn't fashion into items yourself to the seamstresses and prepped each type of meat for meals.

But somehow the new hunter didn't take the shared interests as something positive.

He brought you animals, yes. But never without throwing a judgy look around your workplace. Even when he came in with someone else who'd compliment your clean work he'd only scoff, dump his kills and head back out.

"Sheesh, what crawled up his ass?" The large moustached man laughed. You only shrugged as you lugged the deer behind your counter. "Hell if I know. Ain't digging it out tho. He seems to be doing okay with everyone except for me.." You returned the laugh while the man who's name slipped your mind helped you put the deer on your workbench, only to quickly drop the fake smile and leaning against your workbench.

You thanked him with a sigh and he gave you that look that told you to spill your thoughts.

"Fine. It sucks he's so weird. It'd be awesome to have a partner to do all of this with and to go hunt with." You busied yourself sharpening yuour knives, clearly still annoyed by the whole ordeal. "And..?" The long winded drawl made you roll your eyes at the man's persistance.

"And he's drop dead gorgeous, okay? There. I said it. I have a crush on the man. Happy no-- Ah fuck!" Your knife hit the floor with a clatter as you grabbed at your bleeding hand.

"Alright, up and out withya. To the doc we go." You were led to the infirmary and passed the source of your annoyance on the way.

Not that you were listening, but you still caught his voice in passing. "Damn folk 'ere don't know how ta do shit." You caught his glance in your direction and if you weren't busy keeping yourself from bleeding out you'd confront him.

It was a clear message that you weren't allowed to use the injured hand for your work and risk pulling the stitches, and honestly it just hurt too much to do anything with it. It sucked even more than having to leave your old home behind. There were people counting on your work so they'd have food.

It didn't stop you from going to work and doing as much as you could one-handed. You got there extra early to make up for the extra rime everything would take now, and by the time you'd normally open you found Deanna on your steps, greeting you with her usual smile. "I knew you'd be here stil working, but I brought someone to help until your hand is better. You shouldn't be overworking yourself."

As quick as she had entered she had left again as well, leaving you with your new work companion.

The hunter.

"Good morning." You gave him the kindest smile you could, but were only given a grunt in return as he tossed a bundle of tied up small game on your desk, rounded the corner and fished for a knife to start taking them apart.

Besides you explaining where to put all the different parts of the animal you two barely spoke, until the snap of bone pulled you away from your focused work of skinning yesterday's deer. "The hell?" You turned around to go see what he was up to.

"What are you breaking bones for?" His station was a mess, he pointed at the difficult point he was cuting along. "Easier ta reach without the bone in the way." Without even looking he continued. "Ya should know tha'. Damn city girl doin' mah work."

Again with his snarky comments. You shrugged it off and went back to your own station. Yiur bkood bloiled but you weren't gonna let him get to you, you had work to get done. "Try not to do that, we can still use the bones if you keep them whole."

You tried so hard to focus on your work, skinning the deer with only one functional hand was so difficult and even though you were having extremely conflicted feelings about it you still had to ask him for help.

"Can I borrow your hands for a minute? Can't do this on my own."

You held the large deer up and moved it as Daryl cut away the skin in the most choppy manner, creating a clear line where you stopped and he started. "Can you please work a bit mote delicate? That's gonna take me ages to clean up." You huffed from keeping the deer in place, but also annoyance. Why didn't he work like a hunter? He must know the code, right?

"Why're ya so on mah ass 'bout how I work? Gon' toss it out anyways. Just need the meat, tha's it." He got snappy at the end and you just stared at him, anger clear in your eyes. "Seriously?"

You let go of the deer and stepped away from the counter. "You're sent to MY shop. To help me because I happen to fuck up my hand for the first time ever since I got here years ago and all you can do is talk shit about me?" The knife that laid on the desk before now in your good hand and pointed at his chest. "God I can't believe I even fell for your hunting woodsman charms. You're just an asshole who doesn't give a shit about these animals or the hunter's code." With a clatter the knife hit the floor as you tossed it to the side with shaking hands.

"Get the fuck out of my shop and go find me someone who cares." With angry steps you turned around and headed out of the room, needing a break to gather yourself first if you wanted to get anything else done.

Now alone in the workstation, Daryl snatched up his catch from this morning and headed out.

~~

"You did what? Pookie you gotta listen to the girl." Carol sat down next to him and snatched the cigarette from his fingers. "You know you disrespected her life's work by now following her rules in her own shop, right?"

"I'on get why tha's even important anymore. We gotta eat, tha's all." Daryl's annoyed grumbles did nothing good it seemed as Carol continued to scold him like he was a child. "Did you for one second maybe think this work is all she has left to hold onto her old world self?"

"Cept this ain't the old world no more. She's waistin' time doin' all tha extra shit."

Carol was up and at the front door by now, putting out the cigarette in one of many ashtrays there. "Alright, up with you. You're apologizing with me right now."

The two took off to your shop but found no one there. Daryl's half finished rabbit still out in the open on the table while the deer was gone. "Ain't here. I'll head back tomorro--"

"No we're not. I know where she lives, come on." Carol practically pulled him along on the way to your place despite Daryl's protests.

You were working in your basement area when you heard a knock on the front door. "Come in!" Everyone who came to your place knew the door was unlocked and was free to come and find you, seeing you were either cooking, working on lounging when you kept the front door open.

"Hey, it's Carol! Heard about your hand, need some help around the house?" She needed an excuse to get an answer and find out where you were, so when you called back she knew to head downstairs.

Meanwhile Daryl just stared around to keep his mind busy. He found rabbit skins from prey he brought in wrapped around a pair of boots. He recognized the fur seeing it was a rare color. Further into your livingroom there was a deer pelt draped over the back of your couch. Also caught by him. The white spots over the back had one small flaw from where his bolt had struck right on a white dot. He remembered being proud of his aim for a minute that day.

"Daryl, come on." Carol's whisper-yell had him roll his eyes and as he passed your coatrack he noticed the hooks were all antler parts and the knives laying in the basket on the hallway table had bone handles.

So that's why you were so angry when he snapped the rabbit's leg and skinned the deer so carelessly. You did really use everything.

The two walked down the stairs to your workshop, Carol up front with Daryl following.

"Oh wow," Carol's exclaimation had you laugh. "Yeah, I get that a lot." You stood with your back turned, struggling to hang a piece of skin.

"Here, lemme help ya." Daryl's gruff voice was suddenly right behind you and you spooked, letting go of the pelt but Daryl caught it just in time, draping it over the wire. "Like tha?" His hands stayed up there and adjusted it to your liking, having stepped back to watch him and give Carol a questioning look. She just shrugged and gestured at the man who was again staring around the room. "What brings you here?"

Daryl looked at everything except you, he knew he'd lose all ability to speak if he did. Hell, he already had a difficulty getting his words out now seeing how wrong he was for not listening to you. "Came ta say sorry." He stared at the basket of furs labeled 'Donate'. "Shoulda known better than ta get angry. 'N I get why ya work thr way ya do now." Next to the basket sat a crate filled with thick, sturdy bones labeled 'blacksmith'.

You nodded and gave him an option. "Come back to the shop tomorrow. I'll have tou clean up that deer skin you almost ruined and you're following my teachings. I'll forgive you for wasting the rabbit."

Daryl chewed at his thumb, the other hand stuffed in his pocket and fidgeting with the fabric inside. "Yeah, alright." He nodded and looked over at Carol who had the brightest smile on her face. One that screamed victory.

"We'll get out of your hair, I'll bring by some lunch tomorrow at your shop." Carol waved on her way up, and just as Daryl was about to follow her you quickly spun around to grab something. "Oh, here." You held out a thin knife wrapped in leather, a small engraving of Hilltop's blacksmith on the handle. "I saw you took the rabbits, so if you haven't prepped them yet you can try this one. They're great for smaller animals."

He stumbled over his thanks as he accepted the knife and quickly headed out after Carol.

~~

You were back at work early the next morning, painkillers and a small breakfast in your system already and hoping to finish that damn deer. It still proved a challenge to get it from the cooler onto the workbench but you managed eventually, just before Daryl came in.

"Mornin'." Hid gruff voice sounded through the workplace as he rounded the corner and placed the knife from yesterday on the table. "Thanks fer lettin' me borrow it. Worked like a charm."

You picked up the knife and held it out to him again, only to recieve a questioning grunt in return. "It was a gift. To keep."

Daryl never got gifts. Everything he had was scavenged and well taken care of for longer use these days. It felt weird to keep it but he thanked you again and pocketed it.

Meanwhile you had grabbed the deer skin and laid it out where he'd be working. "Look here, I'll show you how to clean this up and you'll go fix the rest, okay? It'll take a while but it'll be worth it." Daryl stepped up to you and observed the way you took the knife to the uneven spots of skin and carefully smoothed it all out. The precision in your work was impressive to say the least. "How long've ya been doin' this?"

You dropped a cut off piece of meat into a plastic container and thought back to the old world. "I guess ever since my parents thought I was old enough to handle knives." You held the tool out to the hunter and watched him take it from you. "Your turn. I'll be hopefully finishing that deer so just ask whatever, whenever."

You were lucky a lot of the cutting could be done onehanded, and holding back pieces was okay enough to do with your wrist or hold something down with your elbow. But now that you had all the easy access meats off and seperated you ran into a problem.

"Fuck.." You needed help. The same kind of help that had you kick him out yesterday.

"Sup? Need hands?" He was at your side in a second, waiting for your instructions.

"I need to take off the ribs but I can't." You leaned aside to point around the carcass. "If you can press down here, and there." Daryl followed your instructions and put pressure on the spots you pointed out. "Then I can take this here apart." Your movements were followed and suddenly it was way too hot in your always cold workplace. Yesterday you'd be happy if he decided thr Kingdom was a better home for him but now that he apologized and proved to better himself after your misunderstanding you were back to being the lovesick puppy Abraham had made you out to be when he brought you home after the infirmary visit.

With how Daryl held the spot clear and open you had to get close to chop through the bone and separate it all in workable bits.

"Can I take one a'those later? Michonne asked ta cook fer her kids cuz she's out 'n Carol's off ta Kingdom--" "Throw the kids an old world barbeque! I'll come help. I'm sure you're skilled in roasting over an open fire with how much you traveled." The excitement was clear in your voice, and the sudden compliments and offers of gifts and assistance had him nervously fidgeting. But thinking about having a fun experience with the kids instead of just cooking and having dinner sounded way better than his original plan, so he agreed.

"Ya got supplies ta fix tha' in half a day?"

~~

The two of you cleaned up after finishing thr needed work and while you carried the prepped meats, Daryl had the bowl firepit on a kart together with the metal rack to hang over it. Yeah, he lived in a community now but he never guessed he'd be carrying around a whole barbeque setup like he was getting ready to throw a party in the old world. "Gotta drop by tha' house fer a sec, get Jude 'n RJ."

After he got the kids and you had everything set up Daryl got the fire started while you made a quick pantry run and dug through Daryl's kitchen for anything to add to the meals.

You brought whatever you found and set it on the side of the porch steps, keeping a path to the house cleared and sat yourself down in the front lawn as you watched uncle Daryl in action, letting the kids toss wood onto the fire and poke at it with a stick but making sure they kept their distance and wouldn't touch the hot metal.

It was heartwarming to see him laugh and have fun with them and watched him speak quetly to the kids with a finger pointed your way before the two came running towards you.

"Daryl says the fire's good for food! Can we put some on the thing?" Two pairs of big, begging eyes stared at you and saying no would be the worst so of course you allowed them, under surveillance and with an assisting hand. "Alright, pick something you wanna eat first and put it on a plate, Daryl will take it to the fire and I'l helf you put it on the rack, okay?"

A chime of "Okay!" baely left them before they were at the collection of prepared meats where you and Daryl joined them in picking.

While Daryl roasted the food over the fire you were tasked go keep the kids busy, but wirh hoe much they loved chatting about everything and anything it was an easy task.

The whole evening was fun and food and family and it reminded you of everything you missed in this new world.

Everything was good in this moment, especially when you heard a little exchange between uncle and niece.

"Uncle Daryl? Can we have more dinners with her? But also mom and aunt Carol next time." You watched Daryl look towards you for a moment before turning back to Judith. "'Course, she's teachin' me ta prepare food so we can do this with e'ryone if ya want. But!" He raised his hand and pointed at RJ, who came over to him too now. "Yer gonna be the ones askin' folk ta bring food too, so e'ryone has somethin' ta eat, 'kay?"

The two happily nodding kids proved that your time in the community just got a lot more fun.

Now, after the kids were long brought to bed you and Daryl stayed around the fire. Having taken the meat rack off and set asidr you were just relaxing and picking away at the leftovers.

"So," you started, watching the flames in front of you. "That community barbeque plan of yours, it sounded amazing especially how you brought it over to the kids. But, aren't you afraid it'll drain recources too quick?"

Daryl shrugged it off. "Maybe. But those kids'll make folks keep stuff aside fer it." The idea of those two running around the place collecting people brought a smile to his face. "'Sides, I ain't wastin' meat no more with yer lessons tha' I hope ya will keep givin' me."

Oh. He wanted to stay? At the shop? With you? You were pleasantly shocked with that news. "What? Ofcourse I'll teach you. But only of you promise to take me out hunting when my hand's okay again."

He let out a breathy laugh and nodded. "Yeah, I'd love ta have ya around."

You stretched and laid down in the grass, looking up at the night sky.

"S'gonna be fun."

[the-monstermash]

UNBROKEN BETROTHALS pt. 3

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Synopsis: After running away from an unwanted proposal, you find yourself working in a brothel as a cook. When a certain guest takes an odd liking to you, secrets are revealed and betrothals unbroken

Warnings: Angst, Brothels, Mature, 18+, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language

Word Count: 2, 031

> A/N: Catch the corny tie-in at the end of the chapter. I think maybe one more chapter will wrap up this story.

You were in a bout of disbelief. You'd not left your room in days, taking your meals and guests in the rooms. Sylvi was obviously angry with you, because she’d said nothing about you not cooking. She likely had already hired a new cook to replace you, no doubt planning to kick you out the moment you stepped outside again. Where would you go? Back to the Riverlands was always an option, but you were afraid of what you might find if you returned.

How could you not be? Your entire life you had thought of your parents as betrayers. You'd thought they'd wished to sell you off to some disgusting man, to rid themselves of the burden of you. In reality, what choice had they truly had? To reject the king would be dishonorable, not to mention impossible. They would’ve had to respond immediately, to agree in your stead.

How could you ever think so lowly of them? They'd given you so much love in your youth, how would they ever do something so cruel if they'd had the choice not to? Were they heartbroken at the loss of a daughter? Did they think you dead? Or did they accept that you just didn't want to be with them anymore, and you'd left for a better life. Were they still looking for you? You didn't know which was worse.

And then there was Aemond.

Why had he cared so much? You were of no great house, and your marriage would be of no benefit to him. Your running away should've been to his relief, not his anger. Then, for him to track you down, and push his intentions on you. What was the purpose?

The knock on the door did not make you rise from the bed as it would've a week ago, and you did not call to the visitor like you would've a week ago. Instead, you waited for whoever it was to either let themselves in, or go away. You'd be happy with either one.

The creak of the solid door told you they'd chosen the former.

"Are you awake?" Lauryn's voice pulled a sigh from you. 

She'd come with more questions, or to gossip about what was happening outside of your room.

"If I was not before, your presence has brought me a sense of invigoration." You smiled sadly, patting the bed for her to enter.

She stepped inside the room, but did not cross the distance. Her absence in the door frame was filled with another. A much taller, blonder, guest, that put much more dread in you than she had.

"Lauryn, what is this?" You sat up, crossing your arms and pulling the blankets up to cover your nightclothes. He stepped into the center of the room, hands behind his back, looking around to take in the sight.

"He's demanded to see you." We can not deny him, is what she said with her eyes. You nodded at her and she quickly fled the room, closing the door behind her.

The silence was not comfortable, nor was it unwelcome. You knew if he spoke, it would be about the betrothal, and that would make you think of your family, and you would be back to worrying for your dear family and how they were fairing. You felt so vulnerable, wrapped up in your blankets and nightclothes before him, all alone.

"My prince, you wanted to see me?" You propped your knees to your chest, sure you looked like a big pile of sheets with a head on top to him.

"I wanted to see you were well." He finally took his eyes off your meager decorations, and looked at you. "Have you had any more spells?" You shook your head.

"I'm quite well."

"And have you thought any more of my words?" You sighed, exasperated, but relenting to the fact that he simply would not let this go.

"Of course I have. It's all I've thought about, holed up in this room. That, and where I'll go once Sylvi casts me from my home. Because of you." You wanted to yell, but you just did not have the energy.

"Me?"

"If you'd just accepted my answer, she would have gotten past it. But you pursued, and chased, and you would not relent."

"I'd relented the first time you rejected me, how many rejections did you expect I would take?"

"Relenting would've been leaving me be, not seeking me out here when you knew I was content."

"I did not come here for you, you happened to be here." You rolled your eyes.

"I *happened* to be in a kitchen, hidden away from everyone where *you* found me in search of 'wine’? There was wine everywhere up front, it is a whore house! You knew I was here, and you found me, because you could not accept the rejection. You sought me out, you said so yourself." He blanched at you repeating his words to him. Perhaps he thought you did not remember your last conversation.

"So I sought you out. What is the crime in it? You were my betrothed, and I would not have you running about the world any longer. I demand to know why you rejected me so long ago, and why you reject me now. I am more than suitable for you, and you should have been proud to serv-"

"I did not know it was you!" You silenced him with your yell. "I did not run away from marrying you, I ran away...because I thought my parents were to send me off to some gray man I did not know, and force me to wed him, and I would spend my whole life with some old Lord who did not love me, and I would never live! I was a child, and I was afraid, Aemond."

He was silent for a moment, before sighing and coming to sit at the edge of your bed.

"And why do you refuse me now?"

"I guess I thought if I married you, then I might as well have married the first man. It would've saved me a lot of trouble, and made my family proud, at the very least." He nodded at that and looked away. "Why do you want me so badly?"

He tilted his head, thinking for a second before shrugging his shoulders. You scoffed at that and stretched your legs to leave room for your crossed arms, not believing that he was just pointlessly pursuing you.

"I've had enough rejection for one lifetime. I'll not have any more." It was a simple answer, and given the past you knew of him, you supposed it made sense. He'd been refused a dragon, friends, a father, a crown. You could see how when you, a simple girl from nowhere, rejected him, it might have confounded him, and tipped him over the edge. He seemed deep in thought, or perhaps deep in memory, and before your eyes you saw him regress into the young boy he'd been, when all he knew was hurt and rejection.

In a way, you pitied Aemond. He had led a sad life, but he'd also led a privileged life. and that privileged life often made people overlook the hurt he'd faced as a child. He was a prince, and that made him revered and respected in many aspects, but he was also a scared, hurt little boy, with no respect from his peers and no one to truly turn to.

"I suppose I can understand that." He turned to you, his lips turning up in acknowledgement before he gently laid his head in your lap.

It surprised you, though it shouldn't have. He was desperate for appreciation and affection. That was why he was here, after all, begging you to reconsider marriage to him.

You had reconsidered it over these past few days. You'd thought it over in a hundred different ways, and truthfully, without the added angst of your parental situation, you really had no reason to say no to his proposal. He was a perfectly respectable husband, and with his doting nature, you'd thought he'd treat you quite well. You could see yourself content with him, if not happy.

"I suppose marriage wouldn't be so bad if my husband were agreeable." You gently found yourself petting his hair, making him close his eye.

"Hm." Was his simple answer, a hum of content, yet it prompted you to elaborate.

"He would have to be kind, of course. And perhaps handsome, though not superficial. I would like him to be strong, and brave. Though, not to the point of recklessness. Perhaps a Stark." You looked down at him with a playful smile, and he responded with a chortle. "You're right, I do hate the cold." You scratched at his scalp.

"You'll make an exceptional wife, and I'll make you happy." He turned onto his back so he was looking up at you, his soft eyes gazing up at you.

He truly was beautiful. His features were in total opposition, his long, soft hair, sharp jaw, and sweet eyes all combined to make a statuesque deity laid before you. His hair was almost pearlescent in the way the fire flickered across him, changing the hues in a second, and blending in oranges and reds and magnificent  yellows.

You could not think of a way to tell him you were conceding, and he'd finally won. You just smiled down at him and nodded.

"I need to see my parents." Your voice broke at the mere idea, and he nodded immediately, sitting up and turning to hold your face.

"I'll see it's done. We'll call them to King's Landing."

"Thank you, Aemond.”

He tilted himself just slightly, enough for you to understand what he was asking for. You leaned in enough to meet your lips to his in a soft and gentle kiss. You rest your hand on his jaw, and the other on his chest. He pushed himself against you more to deepen the kiss, pushing you back onto your hands.

His kiss was desperate, and held an air of pure satisfaction. It was not overly rushed, but deep and passionate. You could feel him pour his soul into it, like a beautiful piece of poetry. Every suckle was a sonnet, every sigh a sestina. He pulled your body to his, and it was a haiku, consisting of syllables only spoken in physical language. And you hung onto every single word.

You pulled away for air, but he didn't let you get far, holding his hand to the back of your head, your forehead pressed against his. Your bodies still moved in sync, rising and falling with breath, slowly calming yourselves back down.

"We'll marry as soon as your parents arrive. The very same day."

"Shouldn't you ask the king? I’m sure your family won’t relish  the thought of a prince marrying a common cook. You could marry at a much higher advantage for the war."

"There is nothing common about you. And besides, my father already approved the marriage all those years ago. My brother won't deny me." You nodded.

"I'll see you again? Before the wedding? Promise you'll come see me." He raised his eyebrow at that, clearly confused about something you'd said.

"You're coming to the castle with me, are you not, my Lady?" The title made you chew your lip, you had not heard it in a very long time. “I’ll not have my wife sleep in a brothel any longer, I’ve suffered it long enough.”

“This brothel is my home, and you’ve had no trouble turning in a night or two if I remember correctly. Besides, I wouldn’t want to offend your family by assuming I was welcome. You should confirm the betrothal first with the king.” He sighed and turned away, but came up with no argument.

“I’ll be back for you, in a week’s time-at most. Say your goodbyes, pack your things. Prepare to be a princess of the seven kingdoms.” He stood and leaned for one last kiss.

“I’ll be waiting, my prince.”

And with one more lasting stroke of your cheek, he left to unbreak the betrothal you’d abandoned so long ago.

@mamawiggers1980 @dahlias-and-marigolds @starrflowerr @aemondwhoresworld

[theblue6ook]

A Quiet Day

Summary: Bruce does not like celebrating his birthday. All of the pomp and circumstance was very “Bruce Wayne Bachelor,” but it wasn’t him. He wants quiet, he wants easy, he wants focus. So Y/N gives him that.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: I tried to add everyone who wanted to be on the tag list, but let me know if I missed you! [B (24) & Y/N (22)]

“Happy Birthday, Master Bruce,” he heard Alfred over the speaker system. 

Bruce couldn’t help but gaze at the digital clock built into his car console. Well, maybe a tank console? Lucious Fox said it was called the Tumbler, but the name just didn’t feel right to him. It was a birthday present he had told Bruce, and Bruce would call it what he liked... when he thought of a name. He was patrolling, as he does, except this time, he would take his new Waynetech Tank out for a spin. Nope, that name feels wrong too.

“Thank you, Alfred.” 

“Anything special planned this year, sir.”

“You know there’s not,” he chuckled.

“I wasn’t sure if you were getting bold with birthdays,” he could feel Alfred's grin, “considering what an extravagant time Ms. Y/N had.” 

“Just doing something nice for a friend, Alfred.”

Friend. That was nice to say. It’s easy to make friends when you’re a twenty-three - well, now a twenty-four-year-old billionaire. Bruce had never been low on friendships, but he had been low on real friendships. Of course, he had good friends. Rachel, Alfred, Lucius, and Jack Drake, to name a few, but that was all before The Bat. After he had left Gotham, he’d been through a lot. He’d been alone a lot. None of them would ever understand what he went through, who he was now. When he had trained, you’d be "assigned" friends. People you had to work with, save. He had met people who would and had died for him. How can you come back to trivial friendships after that?

And when you don’t water something, it dies. So, friendships slowly crumbled. Shriveled away. It wasn’t in a huge, dramatic way, but in a lost touch way. People didn’t want to deal with the Bruce Wayne he really was, a workaholic, stressed, easily annoyed, quick, and yet she didn’t care.

Y/N had come along, and he was used to the petty fights, people making up their minds, even leaving. They'd slowly given up on him. But she didn’t. They could fight all day long, and by the end, he’d be frustrated, grabbing his coat and announcing it was the end of the day for him. She’d look up at him and say, "See you tomorrow."

Once, he had questioned her about it, half joking and half not, “You’re not going to walk out and never come back?” 

She had looked at him strangely and scoffed, “Bruce, it’s fine if we argue and argue and move on. That’s friendship. That’s life.”

“That’s life?” he had asked sarcastically.

“Yeah. Now get over it and get out,” she had smirked at him.

So, they fight, and they move on, and they fight, and they move on, and Bruce doesn’t mind at all. At the end of the day, he knows he’ll see her the next, and then he does. It’s consistent, and god knows he could use some consistency. 

“A good friend gives back,” Alfred stated. “Maybe she’ll plan you a party.”

God, he hopes not.

-

Y/N had been conspiring. Bruce had made her birthday like nothing she had ever imagined, and even if her ex-finance had soiled the evening, she was grateful. So she wanted to do something special for him, except… he didn’t really seem like he wanted to do anything. Everyone in the office was talking about The Bruce Wayne’s birthday except for Bruce Wayne himself. 

Y/N knew she never typically saw his party side, aside from him hopping into the fountain at The Ocelot. The Bruce she knew was more reserved, quiet, and calculated. Plus, when it came to the topic of his birthday, it’s like he shut the complete conversation down. So, how do you plan something for the one person who wants nothing?

You don’t.

At least you don’t plan a party; you make the day itself special. Bruce hated meetings, so she moved them. He loved the bagel place she showed him down by Dorthie’s Flowers, so she scheduled a nice lunch. The last time she was in Dorthie’s, John had told her that violets were Bruce’s birth flower, so she put some in the office. Finally, for the last hour of their workday, she had a cake, nothing special, she had made it with Carrie last night, and a few birthday cards. 

She was nervous as hell. Giving something to the man who can afford everything is more nerve-wracking than she thought it would be. 

Bruce had arrived at his typical noon timeline. He stepped into the office with caution, just praying what had happened in the past years wouldn’t happen today. When he did occasionally come into the office years ago, past assistants and coworkers would plan some Bruce Wayne Birthday Happy Hour where everyone would get plastered, and he would sneak off annoyed. He knew Y/N knew him better than that. Or at least he hoped she did.

When he stepped into the office, there were no decorations, no music, and no surprises so far. He let out a breath. There was Y/N battling it out on the phone like she usually is. She waved at him and mouthed to him I can’t do phone calls anymore, rolling her eyes. He chuckled, stepping into his office.

Violets.

It wasn’t abnormal for Y/N to grab flowers for the office. She was dear friends with his florist, but violets made him think of his mother. Every birthday, his mother would go through the grueling tale of his birth just to tease him. 

“Thomas, you don’t get to laugh. You were no help!” she squealed. “Anyways, my dear Brucie. I was in the worst pain of my life bringing you into this world. All I wanted was my ice chips when our doctor started going on about birth flowers to distract me.”

“It annoyed her to no end-”

“Stop interrupting me, Thomas,” she had giggled, and Bruce had done the same. “Anyways, I was trying to bring you into this world, and he tells me, ‘ma’am it sounds like your son’s birth flower will be a violet. I never cared for violets.’ And I thought, what a terrible thing to say to a mother. So I kicked him out, and the nurse and I worked hard for you.” 

“She’s not joking, son.”

“But now, every birthday I just have to douse the house in violets for my sweet Brucie.”

 Bruce stepped closer, touching the edge of the petals with his fingertips. It had been a while since he’d been given any flowers... but violets, he was sure he had only gotten them from Mama.

There was a light cough behind him, and he turned to see a bashful Y/N. “So, no meetings today, but we have some paperwork to go through.”

“No meetings?” he questioned. That would be a first.

“Yeah, this donator work really should take priority,” she tried to act casually. “Oh, and I was going to run to Upper East Bagel later if you want to come.”

“We’re not getting delivery?”

“Well, it’s nice outside,” she started innocently. Bad lie, she thought. It’s February. It’s never nice. “I figured I’d walk, but if you want me to go by myself I can grab something for you.”

Bruce scoffed, “You’re not walking by yourself in Gotham.”

She grinned. Bait taken. 

For the few hours before lunch, they worked on paperwork. The donator paperwork did take up a chunk of time. There were so many details like which benefits he needed to attend, which non-profits were approved for the Wayne Charity donation program, etc. He was whipped, and even worse, he was hungry. Stepping toward the door, he leaned on the frame. Y/N was digging through one of her bags, and he cleared his throat.

“Bageles?”

She grinned, “I’m literally starving.”

Y/N was excited, not just for the bagel, but because as soon as they walked down to get their lunch, Alfred was going to come and help her set up Bruce’s office. Again, nothing crazy, a cake, cards, and maybe a balloon. It was nothing that should take long. She even had everything in a tote bag under her desk. 

The bagel line wasn’t long, and they didn’t have any issues other than a few people recognizing Bruce and wishing him a happy birthday. When they did, he’d look at her curiously. While Y/N had no reaction, Bruce was suspicious. So, she knows it’s my birthday, and she hasn’t said anything. Not that Bruce cared about things like that, but Y/N wasn’t the type to forget or be silent on the subject. She had only glanced at him innocently, batting her lashes, “Should we eat lunch in the park?

Bruce humored her, so they sat in Gotham Park and ate their lunch. While the bagel was great, it was fucking freezing outside. Y/N looked over at Bruce, pleasantly eating his bagel. It didn't look like the cold had bothered him at all. Despite not being cold, the whole ordeal had Bruce's mind moving. God, please no office parties when we get back. 

He was on edge stepping back into the office, waiting for some insane ordeal… but nothing. They took the elevator straight up to his office, and walked in by Y/N’s desk and… nothing. He breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she forgot and didn’t want to say anything. Y/N walked casually over to her desk and set her purse down while Bruce put the code into his office door and stepped inside. There was a balloon attached to his desk chair, a cake that was clearly not from a bakery, and cards. 

He chuckled, looking through them. One from Rachel and Harvey Dent, one from Alfred, one from Lucious, one from Jack Drake (who he hadn’t spoken to in so long), and one from Y/N. Except it wasn’t just from Y/N; her brothers had signed it with little notes and doodles, and Carrie had signed a nice message as well. 

It was so simple, so homely, and wonderful.

“Happy Birthday,” Y/N appeared behind him with a couple of paper dessert plates.

He looked at her but said nothing. In the best way, he didn’t know what to say, and suddenly she became nervous.

“I know it’s not much, and you probably have friends planning something crazy, but,” she paused, unsure of herself, “it’s just… you didn’t really seem like you wanted a party.” 

Bruce chuckled quietly. “I don’t,” he said honestly. “I’ve had friends plan a few insane things over the years, and I’m grateful, but I never really felt like celebrating my birthday without-” He stopped, a little embarrassed. “I sound like a child.”

“You don’t,” she stepped over to him, bumping his shoulder with her own.

“Yeah, I do,” he mumbled.

“After my mother left, I tried to make birthdays special for my brothers, but my dad didn’t really celebrate, and neither did I,” she wasn’t sure why she was whispering. Maybe it was the close proximity between them, or maybe it was because she had never admitted what she was about to say aloud. “John, Carrie, even Russ, they all tried to make things special for me, but… I didn’t want to celebrate. I’d always leave early or fake a headache.”

“I didn’t know your mom left,” he replied back.

“I don’t really talk about it. It’s not like it’s a secret, but I don’t know. It feels so awkward to mention.”

“It’s awkward to mention your dead parents too,” he looked over at her, grinning. 

“At least you know they loved you,” she cringed like she regretted what she said. “Sorry, that was a lot.”

“I get it,” he said honestly.

“So, cake,” she quickly diverted the topic.

Bruce smiled. A real true smile, “Cake.”

@pank0w @moejoeflow @padsfirewhisky @maxinehufflepuffprincess @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @mariadvorak @100520s @st0rmyt

[visionsofcarnality]

Ptolemaea:

Aemond Targaryen x Daemyra’s Daughter!fc

Ptolemaea: To betray a guest that has been invited into your home.

a/n: The original concept for this came from @ellijg who dmed me this concept and i added my own little details to it. The original concept was Daemon and Rhaenyra’s daughter was best friends with Aemond during childhood and the daughter was at Rook’s Rest which triggered Aemond to think about when he killed her brother Lucerys. Obviously spoilers for both Fire and Blood and HOTD 204 are below. This short story deals with violence, grief, betrayal, and more than one stabbing.

Other notes: Ptolemaea is also a good song to listen to during this.

"Do you think Aegon and Helaena will be happy?" She asked him? turning her violet eyes to try and find his. "Married?"

"I hope so..." Aemond murmured softly, running his fingers over the softly carved wings of a wooden dragon toy they'd stolen from the King's chambers. "But I think not."

Alysanne frowned softly, turning her head back to the sky where they could just spot Sunfyre and Dreamfyre circling the city. Not quite touching, just observing each other. Each a spectator to the other's solitude. Even in her young mind she wondered if the beautiful beasts were mimicking their riders. Caution reigning over curiosity.

"Pray to the Seven..." She settled deeper into the grass, trying to push the thoughts of unhappy partnerships behind. "I hope I will never marry."

"I will marry you." He countered, causing her head to snap back in his direction, mouth open to protest before he continued. "You can live on Dragonstone, I'll stay in the keep. No one will ever be able to make you do anything."

"Except you." She hedged, clearly looking for the catch in this vow.

"I could never command you." He scoffed, a faint smile leaving his lips. "Zaldrīzes dohaeriros iksos daor."

(A dragon is not a slave)

She matched his smile with her own, laughing softly. "We could be free."

"We could be free." He conceded, watching his niece instead of the clouds when she told him one looked almost like the dragon she'd claimed. The she dragon once ridden by the Queen she was named after; Silverwing.

Alysanne screamed in pure horror when Vhagar's teeth closed around Meleys' neck, crunching disturbingly. She felt a sob tear from her throat as the dragon stopped fighting and finally fell limp, hurtling towards the earth at the speed only a creature the size of a dragon could achieve. Even from her distance she could just see the arms of her beloved Cousin Rhaenys, lifted by the rush of the fall like she was surrendering to her fate.

The explosion from the impact of Meleys' body on the ground shook the castle she was circling and a pained wail left her. One that Silverwing matched, trilling a sound that onlookers would describe in the history books as despair.

There was no time for grief, not as Alysanne, still with tears in her eyes, saw Vhagar circle back around and turn towards the castle of Rook's Rest. She pushed aside the image of Rhaenys falling through the blue sky and focused on what was in front of her. Meleys had blown a passage through the wall of the Keep, one the footsoldiers were now running through. If her faction were to stand even a small chance, she had to distract Vhagar to let Rhaenyra's soldiers close in behind them.

"Dohaeragon, Silverwing." She sobbed into the Dragon's large neck. "Īlon līs jikagon va." She encouraged her, fastening the straps holding her to her saddle even tighter until the skin around her armored hips felt pinched. "Nābēmagon, Gēlenka Tīkun."

(Dohaeragon: Serve/Serve me. Īlon līs jikagon va: We must go on. Nābēmagon Gēlenka Tikun: Attack, Silver Wing.)

Silverwing chirped a high, almost musical, roar and obeyed. The she dragon violently whipped her light wings against the air current below them, launching her and her rider higher. They were now almost level with Vhagar and Aemond.

Aemond twisted in his saddle at the sound of Silverwing's call, eye widening in dread. "No," He shook his head, willing Alysanne to turn her mount away from the battle. "Stubborn girl..." The words were followed by a soft curse as Vhagar inevitably circled to face Silverwing. "No! Vhagar, no!" He cried, yanking uselessly on the reigns.

"Vhagar, no!" The sound of bone crunching could be heard even above the thick rain as Vhagar's mouth closed around Arrax's body... Around Lucerys.

"Vhagar, stop! Not her!" He screamed. "Not her! Dohaeragon, Vhagar. Rybagon issa!" Vhagar paid him no mind, raising her mighty neck to deliver a killing blow to the smaller dragon.

(Rybagon issa: hear me.)

On Silverwing, Alysanne watched the great beast move like a fanged glacier, the slow speed somehow making her movement all the more intimidating. She swallowed her fear, closing her eyes for half a moment and letting herself remember Rhaenys. Her death could not be in vain. She would not lose this battle.

"Come on, girl." She called harshly, gripping the reins tight. "We can take them." Silverwing answered lightly and beat her wings harder, launching them higher.

"No..." The sight of Arrax's wing tumbling to the dark water like a maple tree seed. Spinning and circling as it still spewed the steaming blood of the young dragon. He wondered absently how much of the blood on Arrax's scales was his... and how much was Lucerys'.

The ride back to King's Landing was numb. Even the cold rain and the pain in his hands from his grip on Vhagar's leads couldn't shake him from his stupor.

Vhagar roared with a sound that was more felt than heard, but there was no mistaking the answering melodic call of Silverwing as she met the larger beast without fear. Aemond pulled Vhagar back with all his might, crying out with the effort of trying to turn such a massive beast away from the woman he may have once called his wife.

It was barely enough, Vhagar finally banked with a roar of outrage, but not before Silverwing made impact with the larger she dragon's hind leg, slicing savagely through to the bone. Vhagar moaned in anger and writhed in the air, shaking the reflective dragon off. Alysanne and Silverwing hung on, bravely tearing chunks from Vhagar's flesh until the jade queen twisted in a slow death roll and brought her tail up towards her leg, smacking savagely into the side of Silverwing and sending her flying.

Aemond watched in horror as his nightmares became reality. The flashing of Silverwing's light scales as she spun out of control looked all too similar to the way Arrax had spiraled as bits of him fell to the ocean. He could just barely see Alysanne, clutching her dragon's neck like she was attempting to comfort her even in the free fall. Even though she would surely die should the impact come for them both.

Silverwing crashed into the trees below them, knocking more than a few of them down with her momentum, a shrill, ululating whistle of pain rising above the screams and clanging of steel.

"Down, Vhagar, land." He instructed without emotion, letting Vhagar carry them both to the ground near where Silverwing had made impact.

Alysanne nearly screamed in effort, trying to pull the clasp of her strap from the saddle as it had become crushed during the fall, the metal loop closing entirely on the latch of her riding lead. When it was made clear the metal wouldn't budge she huffed and drew her dagger, slicing clean through the crafted leather. No sooner was she free than she was sliding down Simverwing's back to rush towards her head, checking the dragon over for injuries.

"Oh, my girl." She crooned, pressing her forehead to Silverwing's nose with a soft sob. "I thought we were lost." Silverwing purred against her rider, the sound carrying a soft whistle with it.

"Alysanne!" The harsh shout of her name had the hairs on the back of her neck rising, followed by the crunching of leaves and twigs under hurried feet.

"Ssh..." She soothed her mount with a soft kiss to her face. "It's okay." Silverwing rustled nervously but obeyed with a soft chuff that blew smoke up through Alysanne's silver-gold hair, joining the smoke and soot that already covered her rider.

"Alys!" Aemond called the nickname he'd used for her when they were children, clearing the last of the branches to reveal Silverwing on her side, laying calmly among the destruction caused by her fall. Weary, but alive. There was no sign of Alysanne.

Or so he thought. A primal yell came from his flank and he turned just in time to catch Alysanne's sword arm as she swung a dagger over his head. His hand just stopped the impact of the blade a finger's length from his good eye, and they locked in a stare. Alysanne was covered in soot and smoke, smeared by the tears running down her face and looking in her eyes. Though the tears were not betrayed by her expression, her mouth and brow twisted in fervent wrath.

"Alys-" He started, trying to wrestle her arm down and away from him. Before he could finish she suddenly dropped the dagger and caught it with her other hand, driving it towards his side. He had just enough time to sidestep her so that the blade met him in the thigh instead of the gut where she had intended.

"You!" She wailed, the sound almost animalistic. "Kinslayer! Traitorous, two-faced villain!" Her words cut him deep and he felt his face fall as he beheld the ferocity and rage she threw at his feet.

"Alys, stop!" He shouted, grabbing both her flailing arms and twisting her wrist until she cried out and dropped the dagger. "Listen to me!" She did no such thing, kicking out with both legs to try and force him off her. The impact cleared the air from his lungs but only served to topple them both to the scorched forest floor, his body on top of hers. She writhed in his grip, growling like a harpy, but he was stronger and larger than she was , nailing her arms to the ground with both hands and sitting down harshly on her hips to keep her from squirming too much.

"Stop fighting me!" He roared into her face, and she only fought harder, drawing her own blood as she clenched her hands into fists, digging the nails into the meat of her palms with her effort.

"No!" She screamed in response, trying to bring her legs up to knee him in the back. "I will never stop fighting you! I will kick and scream and fight you until you either kill me or I kill you!" She sobbed, her fight losing some of its momentum as she cried.

"Alys-"

"You killed them!" She wailed, choked sounds of grief leaving her as she continued to fight him. "You killed them both! Your kin!"

"It was an accident!" He matched her cries, feeling his own tears start to well. "What happened with Lucerys... I never meant for Vhagar to harm him!"

"He was three and ten!" She wept miserably, her arms and legs starting to slacken in his hold as he grief overcame her sadness. "He was a child, Aemond! A babe! Him and Arrax both!"

"And what of our children?" Some of his tears dropped to her face and she shook them off agitatedly. "Jaehaerys? Maelor, who will never forget how his mother wished him dead? Jaehaera, who lost her twin?"

"Rhaenyra had nothing to do with that!" She hissed through her tears. "It was Daemon who ordered your head be brought to him. He did not plan on your chambers being empty. You were too busy whoring to protect your own nephew!" Her voice rose through the sentence until she was screeching in his face again.

"Enough, woman!" He snapped, lifting her briefly to slam her back into the ground in an attempt to stop her from spewing more of his darkest regrets. "You think I wanted this? You think that I wanted my nephews dead?"

"Mayhaps not." She panted coldly, eyes icing over as she looked between the patch and his single purple eye. "But you wanted your brother dead." Aemond's blood ran cold. "I saw you. I saw you order Vhagar. You fired upon your own brother with no regard for his life. Your King! You were too blinded by your own hatred and ambition to stay loyal to your brother!"

He leaned into her space, so close their noses almost touched and he could smell the salt in the tears cutting through the soot on her cheeks. “That fire was for Meleys. Aegon was the idiot who held on and didn’t order Sunfyre away.”

At that, she did the unthinkable. She laughed at him.A disturbing, humorless laugh that made a chill run down his spine. “Your convolutions may be enough for your mother and your small council, but you cannot fool me Aemond.” She sneered, venom dripping from every word. “You never could.”

“Have you no memory of us as children?” He was grasping now, trying to find a way to pull her close as she only tried to get farther away. “What has become of those children?”

“You did this to us!” She cried, rage awakening anew. “It was your actions, not mine! Your ambition! Your anger! Your ceaseless vengeance and need for retribution!” Silverwing shifted uncomfortably at the sounds of her rider’s distress, but did not rise. “Your constant need to be feared and loved! You claim loneliness, did I not love you enough?” She was sobbing again. “Have I not given everything I could to you and your complexes? Was I not enough for you, Aemond? Or did you think that I could love you and fear you at once?” She finally stopped fighting him, laying lax against the soot-covered ground as he processed her deepest questions. “If I had loved you better would you have spared my brother?” She mewled through her tears. “If I had feared you the way you wanted Luke to fear Vhagar?”

Aemond did not answer, and another tear rolled down his face and he watched it land on her wobbling bottom lip. She looked away from him, arms shifting restlessly. “Even now…” She mused, sounding truly broken. “You cannot answer me.” She scoffed. “Nothing will ever be enough for you, Aemond. You ride the largest dragon, you claimed your vengeance on my little brother, you’ve now deposed your brother as King…” The expression she turned on him was nothing short of disgust edged with pity. “You will never be happy.” She sighed, “Never satisfied.”

“Alys-“ He was cut off from finishing her name when he felt a sharp pain in his side, just below the crest of his hipbone. The only place on his body she could reach with her arms restrained against him. When he looked down he saw the hilt of Aegon’s dagger protruding from his doublet. She’d taken the dagger he plucked from the crater of Sunfyre and Aegon…

Aemond loosed his grip on her in shock, feeling blood pool under his clothes and soak his riding clothes. Alysanne scrambled from beneath him as he hitched to the side, catching himself on one hand and breathing heavily.

“Alysanne!” He called out, watching her hair fly behind her as she sprinted to Silverwing and deftly climbed onto her back, strapping herself into the saddle with quick, shaking hands. “Alysanne!” He repeated, louder now, desperation tinting his voice as he simultaneously tried to stem the bleeding from his side as well as from the dagger still lodged in his thigh.

She paid him no mind as she ordered Silverwing into the sky and the downwind from her mighty wings hit Aemond full force, knocking his weakening body to the ground on his back, helpless as he watched her fly away.

He watched her until Silverwing was just a reflective dot on the sky, and the last thing he heard was a knight shouting his title before he succumbed to sleep from the blood still flowing under him.

[georgeclarkesgf]

forgetful | george clarke

the minute george stepped into the flat, he knew something was off.

"y/n? you here?" walking further into the flat, he found y/n in the kitchen making herself a cup of tea, "hey, sorry i'm back so late. we missed t-"

"don't. i can't believe you. all i asked was that you not plan to film today and i wake up to a message telling me you've gone to film a video for arthur. do you even know why i asked you to stay home today?"

he was trying to remember, really he was. but his mind was blank and the guilt began to seep in, only just noticing the tears that left stains on her cheeks.

"no. of course you don't. my parents are in town george. i planned a nice lunch, maybe go on a walk, come back to the flat for a few drinks, but all that went to shit because you left to film a stupid video and then ignored my messages all day. you know how important it is to me that you get along with my parents so having to cancel on them last minute because you weren't even here was not something i wanted to have to do." the tears in her eyes were threatening to fall again, hating how needy and pathetic she sounded.

"we can sti-" george tried, again quickly being shut down.

"no george, i'm mad at you. you don't get to say it'll be alright and that we can still do something. we're not playing happy families. you've hurt me. when we sort this out, then we organise something else."

now the guilt was in full swing and he immediately started to think of ways he could make it up to her, knowing it would take a lot of grovelling to get back onto her good side.

"i'm going to bed, i love you." a soft kiss being placed on his lips.

"i love you too." slight relief evident on his face, knowing she'll never not say 'i love you', even during an argument.

she rounded the kitchen island, starting to make her way to his room and get ready for bed. george watched as she closed the door, still stood in the kitchen, contemplating whether to follow her or give her some space.

he decided on the latter.

--------

it was nearing midnight when george decided he needed some sleep, and the dip in the bed as he got comfortable was enough to wake y/n, a groan leaving her lips.

"sorry. i didn't mean to wake you," she let out an agitated hum of acknowledgement and rolled over, curling into george's side, unable to resist the heat his body always provided, "still mad at me?"

"yep." she responded, accentuating the 'p'.

"okay. can we talk about it?"

"i've said my peace. you go."

"i really am sorry sweetheart, i feel awful," her nails were running along the lines and dips of his stomach, a habit he'd grown accustomed to over the several months they'd been together, "the video was planned ages ago and i didn't even realise the dates clashed. when you reminded me of 'that thing' that was happening today i thought you meant filming. i promise to make it up to you. and your parents. please say they don't hate me."

george hoped it was enough, not that he wouldn't do anything she asked to get her to forgive him, but he couldn't stand the thought of her staying mad at him.

in y/n's head, he was forgiven. during her time alone, she realised she didn't even give him a chance to explain before locking herself in his room for the rest of the night.

"i'm sorry too," george was slightly taken aback by this, unsure what she was apologising for, "i shouldn't have stormed off like that. not even letting you speak before i disappeared all night. and my parents don't hate you. we can do dinner tomorrow if that's okay with you?"

"that's more than okay. i have my whole day free to spend with you and them. we can do whatever you guys want. i love you."

"i love you. so much. even if you are forgetful."

and george stuck to his promise. safe to say y/n's parents like george more than her.

a/n have this as an 'i'm sorry i haven't posted in a while present' <3

[iifoundjoy]

BEAR WITH ME.

warning: spoilers for ep 75

i was just scrolling through tiktok and then the thought occurred to me that everyone grew up together (minus ben and aiden) and basically never interacted until the group project. yeah, duh, that's the whole premise of their strange group at first, but it just strikes a cord to think that these kids who have become so inseparable were so close to each other this whole time without even knowing it, without even knowing that they needed each other.

because why now, after all these years, would they? after all, they were just strangers who occasionally saw each other in the hall or during class, strangers that they could never understand, right? they were just too different.

i mean, just think about how taylor says she's always noticed ashlyn since they were kids and how she was always on her own. she didnt understand how ash could be content with that, isn't it lonely?

tyler is most likely, lets face it, pretty popular. when we're introduced to him and taylor they're in this huge group of typical jocks due to tyler being on the baseball team. ashlyn and logan must've known him before due to that, seen them parading through the halls. and seeing as how neither logan nor ash like loud noises or crowds very much they probably wrote him off as a loud jock and went about their day. maybe saw how cold and angry he was with everyone but his sister and thought he must be unpleasant to be around.

as for logan, he, like ash, is pretty obviously very much a background character in everyone else's lives. most likely a loner just like ashlyn, very shy. if the rest of the gang ever noticed him it was probably nothing more than a glance. because logan at the time was nothing more than barrons stereotypical nerd that does his homework because he's scared of what will happen if he doesn't.

it just makes me ILL that these people who would grow to care so much about each other were all so close without knowing it, hell, they probably passed each other in their towns grocery store multiple times before. maybe seen tyler play in one of his games with taylor yelling above everyone else because that's her brother, saw ashlyn perform and dance, saw logan reading in the astronomy section in the library.

and yet they didn't know they'd ever learn to trust these strangers with their lives every night. that they would learn that tyler is more than just a loud, angry jock. he loves and cares about his sister, took up being basically a parent from a very young age, and doesn't truly have any friends because they are just a distraction.

that taylor is every bit as friendly as she let's others believe, but if you mess with her brother or her friends that sun can cloud over so quick.

that ashlyn likes to be alone but given the time and patience, she would love to be alone with you. that she doesn't want to, but if she's needed, she will step up and be the leader you need. sure, she isn't good at "friends" and she'll make mistakes, but she owns up to them because she tries and she cares.

and finally, logan, who at first is so shy and unsure, yet is quick-witted and brave enough to make hard choices and learn where he fits in with a group. to stand up against someone who bullied him and threatened him daily and help someone else from going down the same path he did.

AND PLEASE don't even get me started on ben and aiden.

those two have been practically alone their whole lives until they met each other. all aiden had was the dark room that reeked of molding food and people he hung around just to pass the time because he knew they weren't permanent, nothing ever was with his parents.

and ben's only friend before aiden being the music he could create before it was taken away from him, and all he had left was the broken melodies that he tried to find in every punch he threw.

they were both so, so alone and seeking something that would stay, something that would last because everything else that made them happy seemed to fall just out of reach now.

but just one move away, one final move to a small town in georgia held everything that could hurt and heal them all in one. they were all what everyone needed, even if they didn't know it and it drives me insane that if these kids hadn't been put through hell, they never would have found each other.

and they're more than willing to claw their way out together, not because they have to to survive, but because they want to so that they can live.

red what have you dooone 😭/pos

[vivwritesfics]

Fire Is The Devil's Only Friend

Chapter One

There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him

Warnings: smut, marking up, breeding kink carlos

1.3K

Thank to so freaking much to @darleneslane for the idea for this one! Im so obsessed

Series Masterlist

What is it with interviewers and always asking personal questions? The interview was supposed to be about her new book, and all she was being asked about was potential boyfriends.

She laughed and brushed on the question several times. She couldn't refuse to answer the question; that would just send more curiosity her way. And if she said she was single? Her inbox would be full of flirtatious messages.

Yes, she already had a boyfriend. They'd been together before she had made it big, when she was desperately trying to get somebody to read at least a single page of her writings.

She didn't know who he was when they first met. He was twenty five, gorgeous and oh so charming. It was so easy to fall for him. She fell in love with everything about him, and he with her. Nobody had ever asked her about herself and her writing at the level he did.

On every date he insisted on paying. She wasn't entirely comfortable about it, but she was a struggling author and she had very little money.

She realised who he was when he invited her to a Grand Prix. Initially she had declined. If he had enough money to take the both of them to a Grand Prix, she'd never be able to repay him.

Carlos asked again. It was late, they'd spent the day together and he'd made her dinner. They sat together on the couch, her body against his and his arms around her. "Come with me to a Grand Prix," he asked again and kissed the top of her head.

"Carlos, I can't," she said and turned towards him, her head on his chest.

Carlos kissed the top of her head. "Please," he tried again. "I could really use your support out there."

Suddenly she was sitting up. "You're a driver?" She asked, brows furrowed.

"Mi querida, you didn't know?"

She shook her head. "I thought you were just a really big Ferrari fan or something," she admitted.

Carlos couldn't stop the laugh that left his lips. He opened his arms wide once again and she fell against him. "So, are you coming to the Grand Prix with me?" He asked and she nodded her head.

But it wasn't as simple as that. She realised that the day after she agreed to go. She realised that the moment she got that all important email from a publishing house. The email that would change the trajectory of her life.

As upset that Carlos was that she changed her mind on the Grand Prix with him, he understood. As much as he wanted there, he accepted that she'd be supporting him from her apartment.

Nobody knew about her relationship with the Spanish Formula One driver. Her friends were constantly trying to set her up, but none of the men they introduced her to could hold a candle to Carlos. Not that she went on a date with any of these men. Not when she had Carlos.

The day her book was published, a year after she got that first email, she received an invite to the Ferrari garage. She looked at Carlos across the room and he just smirked.

He strode across the room and stood behind the couch, where she sat with notebooks spread around her. "Please, mi corazón," he said, his hand resting on her shoulders as he leaned over her.

She tipped her head back to look up at him. "Okay," she whispered and Carlos leaned down to kiss her.

But then he jumped over the sofa and pulled her to her feet. He pulled her into his arms and spun her around. "You have no idea how happy that makes me," he said and kissed her again.

She set rules. With her book coming out she didn't want to be seen with him, holding his hand or kissing him. She wanted sales off of her own merit, not because Carlos's fans wanted to support her, as sweet as it was.

"One day," he said, his forehead pressed against hers.

"One day," she agreed and kissed him.

She wanted to be there for the entire weekend, but she had meetings with her publisher and her own public relations team. The release of her book was the Wednesday after the Grand Prix and the publishers media team was working hard to push it.

The Grand Prix was a weekend to relax for her. At least, when it came to publishing her book. For the entire Grand Prix she'd have her nails between her teeth, anxiously chewing them.

She was in the Ferrari garage for the race. Nobody quite knew who she was. When the cameras zoomed in on her, the title card beneath her name just said 'indie author', which wasn't strictly true.

It was her first Grand Prix. Carlos was so close to a podium, just missing out. Still, she'd kiss him and celebrate later as though he'd won a world championship.

Carlos watched as Max held Kelly close, as Sergio held his wife and Charles held Alexandra. He wanted that, more than anything he wanted to hold his girl.

Soon, he'd be holding her soon.

That night, hidden away in their hotel room, Carlos wrapped his strong arms around her. His hips moved against her as she moaned and writhed beneath him. He kissed her neck, bit and nibbled, sucking at the skin there.

The bed squeaked as he moved, thrusting into her. "I'm gonna put my baby in you," he grunted, eyes shut as she clenched around him. Her legs shook as she came around him and Carlos let out breathy grunts.

He came, his thrusts sloppy as his seed painted her walls. His forehead was against hers as he pulled out and laid down beside her, wrapping his arms around her.

"I love you," she whispered and kissed his nose.

Carlos pulled her into his warm body. "I love you," he whispered back. They fell asleep like that, a tangle of limbs, wrapped in each others loving embrace. For the first time in a year, Carlos was happy to be falling asleep beside the girl he loved after a race.

As they fell asleep, in the early hours of the morning, something very different was happening with the staff of the Ferrari F1 team. Well, for one particular member of the Ferrari F1 team, things were very different.

Maybe the employee was disgruntled, unhappy with their job. They had information that nobody else had, which is why they released it to the world. That was the one piece of power they had as a social media admin.

The post was only online for seconds before another admin took it down. But that was long enough for fifty thousand people to have screenshots. All of the dirty secrets Ferrari had been hiding from the fans. Details of sordid affairs and more. Scuderia Ferrari had been laid bare for the world to see.

The PR team worked through the night. They had to do something, something that would distract the world. "Who is the girl that's been coming to the garage?" Asked a member of the team.

"Who, the author?"

The team member shook her head. "The model. Rebecca something."

"Rebecca Donaldson?"

The team member pointed her pen towards her colleague. "Bingo. We set her up with Carlos and it should take the heat off of us for a while."

It was decided. Carlos Sainz, who the world thought was single, was going to be set up with Rebecca Donaldson to distract the world from the Ferrari blunder.

The ring buried away in his bag would certainly have something to say about it.

Permanent Taglist: @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minkyungseokie @formulaal @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03

[gejo333]

Art credit goes to @kit-and-wolfe ! Thank you for fulfilling my wish to see Miguel in a wedding suit!🥹🥰💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

An Unexpected Match XIII

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

18+ Warning

Pt.1

Summary: The months of preparation for the big day!💐💍🔔

Only three chapters left of “ An Unexpected Match!” (Not including this chapter)

Enjoy🥰

Wc: 15.6k

————————————————————————

When you and Miguel arrived from Miami, your family, friends, and future in-laws met you in the backyard for a surprise engagement party.

You were both happy and shocked that Stephanie and Gabriel could quickly pull something spectacular. Yet again, it was Stephanie and Gabriel. If they wanted something done, they'd get it done. Of course, you weren't surprised that your parents weren't attending. Probably because you didn't tell them that Miguel had proposed to you. Despite all the drama, you still wanted to share the news of your happiness. But you were smart to know they wouldn't be happy. 

Jack had told you that they found out about your news from your Instagram and were not pleased, saying, like a broken record player, that you were too young and that Miguel was too old for you. Of course, you smiled when Stephanie added that Jack defended your relationship with Miguel and said that he cared for your happiness and thought Miguel was a good man for you. 

You chuckled from the memory when Liam approached the four of you, 'Now that you're going to be my future brother-in-law, can I test drive your Aston Martin?' As soon as the words came out of his mouth, you and Jack scolded your childish younger brother. God, you were glad you weren't a sophomore in college anymore. Of course, Miguel, being the gentleman he is, agreed as long as you or he were in the car. And, of course, you didn't help but brag to Liam that you had driven it before, to which his reaction was priceless. 

You sat at a cafe basking in the warmth of the almost-summer sun, scrolling through wedding catalogs.

"Damn, I knew wedding planning was a lot, but I didn't think it was this detailed! Like why is everything individually priced! And way overpriced! I saw this same napkin set for $5 at Target, and this is $30 for two?!" Stephanie stressed as she quickly flipped the pages of her catalog. "God, I wish I snagged a billionaire. But my heart is for your brother." Stephanie dramatically places the back of her hand on her forehead before moving it over her heart. You only rolled your eyes and chuckled at your best friend's childish antics. 

"I still don't 100% understand when you're so amazing, and he's just, well... Jack. But I am happy for both of you. I can't wait till he proposes so we can legally be sisters." You waved the waitress's attention to the check, which they saw and nodded.

"Honestly, I don't think I want to get married now that I have realized how much debt my dream wedding will make me." Stephanie gasped as she saw another overly-priced item. "Do you know your budget?"

"Funny thing is, there is no budget. Miguel won't let me pay for any of it, and there is no limit.  I want to help pay for it too, but he refuses to let me, which is frustrating, to say the least." You sigh as you place your card down on the bill. 

" I love that the only issue you have with your fiancé is that he wants to pay for everything." Stephanie chuckled as she finished her coffee, to which you sent her a light glare. 

" Steph, you know how I am. I don't want to be some dependent trophy wife. I want to contribute to the expenses. But enough about that. I invited you for coffee because I want you to be my maid of honor." You hold her hands as you smile brightly at her.

"I'd be honored to be your main wingwoman at the wedding. You can count on me!" Stephanie squeezed your hands as she returned your smile. "I will also take on the role of wedding planner! Only I know what your dream wedding is, not some overly-priced, stuck-up designer." 

"If you're up for the task, Miguel and I would love the help." After saying your goodbyes, you plan to see each other to start brainstorming themes for the wedding. You head back home, welcomed by your happy six-year-old daughter. 

"Mama, you're back!" Gabi ran up and gave you a bear hug. You smiled lovingly at her as you leaned down to return the hug. The smile on your face disappeared when you noticed a cut on her arm. 

"Baby bug, what happened here? Are you okay?" You check her arm to get a better look at it. It already had a scab, which meant it happened hours ago, most likely at school. 

"I fell during P.E. and scraped my arm when it happened. But I was a big girl, and I didn't cry." Gabi smiled, proud of her statement. You comb some of her fly-away curls behind her ear as you give her another hug, kissing the top of her forehead. "Oh, sweetie, that sounds horrible. It's okay to cry when you get hurt. There is nothing wrong in that."

"I know, but I didn't want to cry in front of the boys because they would make fun of me." Gabi's lips quivered slightly, pouting. 

"Well, if they ever make fun of you for crying, tell them you don't care what they think. And you shouldn't care what others think about you, Gabi. Just be your amazing, sweet self. But hey, if they still are giving you trouble, we'll have Papa scare them off. Cause no one upsets our baby bug." Placing one last kiss on her head, you let her go as she smiles brightly at you before running back to her playroom.

You smile before heading towards the office where your fiancé spends most of his time when he's not with you or Gabi. You notice the door slightly cracked open, signaling he wasn't too busy. As the new CEO of a mega-corporation, you were surprised by how much time he still gets to be with you and Gabi. 

You gently knock on the door to alert your presence before walking in. 

"Cariño? How was coffee with Stephanie?" Miguel called out, still focused on his various computer screens. You walk up behind him as you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind, resting your head on his shoulder. With one hand, Miguel entangles his fingers with yours and kisses your knuckles near your engagement ring. Half-focused on work. Half-focused on you.

"It was nice. I asked her to be my maid of honor, which she was happy to accept. She is also going to help plan the wedding. Her sense of taste is way better than any wedding planner that I looked at."

"She did do a really good job with the engagement party," Miguel added. 

"She did. I have always trusted her taste in design and decor. Have you talked to Gabe about being your best man?" You chuckled at his slight pout from your last words.

"I just haven't had the patience for his energy lately. And he won't leave me alone when I ask him." Miguel sighed as he leaned his head against yours, and you kissed his cheek sweetly. 

"Well, it's better to rip off the bandaid than leave it. Plus, you know he's been waiting for you to ask. On a different note, can we discuss something more seriously?" 

Your change in tone brought his full attention as he guided you to the front of his chair, both serious and curious brown eyes looking up at you. You smile as you straddle his lap and comb a few stray-away curls from his face. You always loved it when he had his glasses on. 

"Don't worry, honey. It's nothing bad. I just wanted to talk about expenses."

"What about them?" Miguel's hands rested on your hips, gently brushing his fingers against your clothing. 

"I want to be more a part of it. I want to help chip in. Like for our wedding, the house, and Gabi." 

"Like I've said before, Hermosa, save your money. You know I can easily take care of everything."

"I know you can, Miguel, but I want to contribute. Please let me help pay for things. I don't want to be financially dependent on you. I love you and can't wait to be your wife in a few months, but I will not be a trophy wife. So please, for my sake, let me help pitch in." You tried your best to give him a serious gaze without wanting to melt into his strong and warm embrace. 

A small sigh escaped his lips before he smiled. "It's hard to say no to you. Alright. You can help pay for Gabi's soccer things and groceries."

"And half the wedding."

"No."

"A quarter?"

"How about just the cake."

"Cake and flowers?"

"Fine. You have a deal, mi amor, if I can have a kiss." Miguel smirked, pinching your hip.

"Well, you can have a kiss anytime you want and as many times as you want." You smile, leaning in as your lips meet his in a soft and sweet kiss. "Here's another one," you say before placing another kiss on his lips, "and another because I love you." 

The kisses formed into a slightly heated make-out session as sweet kisses were placed on lips, necks, and light squeezes and touches. However, the enjoyable moment paused as you both heard light footsteps descending the hallway. You get off Miguel's lap and ensure you still look presentable. A few seconds later, barged in your daughter wearing a plastic tiara with pink gems and a matching tutu on her soccer uniform. 

"How cute do you look, baby bug. You look like a princess."

"I'm the soccer fairy princess. And I am inviting you and Papa to my royal tea party." Gabi handed you, and Miguel slips of paper with colorful drawings and writing. Of course, knowing your handwriting, you could tell she tried to spell out 'Momma's tea party invitation.'

"We would be honored to attend, Princesa." Miguel smiled as he got up from his chair, stretching to relieve the tension in his muscles from sitting too long. Would you like to be carried to your palace?" 

"Yes, please!" Gabi cheered in excitement before he picked her up with one arm. With his available hand, he entangled his fingers with yours as he led his family to the royal tea party upstairs.

.....

10 months before the wedding

"We're here!" Cheered Gabi from her car seat. You chuckle from her excitement as you exit the driver's side and unbuckle her from the car seat. Of course, as soon as she is out of the car, she runs to the car parked in front with a wild woman standing. 

"Auntie Steph!"

"Hi there, girlie! Are you here to help your Mama out with choosing a dress?" Stephanie smiled as she leaned down to hug Gabi, who happily reciprocated the gesture. 

"Yeah! But I promised her not to tell what the dress looks like even though Papa asked me to." 

"Oh, I see. Is Mr. O'Hara already getting impatient to make you Mrs. O'Hara?" Stephanie chuckled as she grinned at you, to which you replied with a smile and a playful roll of your eyes. 

As you entered, you were met by more of your wedding party, including a few more college friends as your bridesmaids and Conchata, Miguel's mother. You had met her only a few times, the last time at the engagement party. Ever since the beginning of your relationship with Miguel, you knew he wasn't close to his mother. Still, she was a good grandmother to Gabi and really sweet to you. When Miguel introduced you to her, she was overly excited to meet you, saying she was happy her son had found a nice woman. Even though she and Miguel weren't that close, it was nice to know that at least one parent approved of your relationship.  You had invited her to your wedding dress appointment because she always had wanted to be a part of the bridal process but never thought she would be able to since she only has sons. 

"Hola y/n! Que tal mi hija?" Conchata smiled as she hugged you, to which you happily returned. (Hi y/n! How are you, my daughter?)

"Hola Conchata. Bien. Estoy muy emocionado." (Hi Conchata. Good. I am very excited.)

"Me alegro. ¡No puedo esperar a verte probar vestidos! Asegúrate de que ese hijo mío no te deje embarazada antes de la boda. Lo era y odiaba que no pudiera caber en mi vestido."

(I'm glad. I can not wait to see you try dresses! Make sure that a son of mine does not get you pregnant before the wedding. I was, and I hated that I could not fit into my dress.)

"No te preocupes. No habrá noticias de futuros bebés hasta después de que se haya celebrado la boda." (Don't worry. There will be no news of future babies until after the wedding has happened). You chuckle at your future mother-in-law's words. You knew Miguel would say otherwise. 

He would be happy if you had told him you were pregnant today. Thankfully birth control prevented that from happening no matter how many times he tried overpowering the drug by staying inside you for hours after an intense amount of time fucking you. Lately, you have been falling asleep in bed with him deep inside you. 

Of course, your smile faded slightly when you saw your mother sitting next to your bridesmaids. She stood up with an awkward smile as she hugged you. "I'm shocked I was invited, especially since you didn't tell me you were engaged." 

"Well, every daughter wants their mom to be part of their wedding preparations, including dress shopping, despite your behavior." 

"My behavior? I'm telling you that what you are doing is a mistake.

"My son is not a mistake. And neither is this relationship. They are perfect for each other." Argued Conchata.

"Sarah, just be happy for her. Okay?" Steph touched your mother's shoulder, hoping to reason with her. 

"Let's just get on with this," your mother scoffed as she returned to her spot. You took a deep breath to calm your anger. You would try on wedding dresses; this is supposed to be a happy occasion. 

The bridal dress concierge walked towards your group. "Good afternoon, ladies. Now, who might be the bride?" 

"My mama is!" Gabi happily hugged you, and you chuckled as you looked down at her with a loving smile and gently caressed her head. 

"I am." 

"Lovely! Follow me right this way, Ms. L/n." The woman said warmly before walking into the bridal boutique with you, Gabi, and everyone else following behind. 

"Everyone can sit here while I take our lovely bride to the fitting room. The dresses you chose online are already in there for you. Please follow me." 

Before you leave, you turn to face Gabi, "I'll be in the dressing room, baby bug. Come in if you need me. Aunt Steph and Abuela will look after you." You kiss the top of her head before following the woman to the fitting room.

You had goosebumps on your skin, as you couldn't contain your excitement when you saw the dresses hanging up in the dressing room. 

Of course, no one told you how hard it was to get into a wedding dress. You only thought jean shopping was a nightmare. You sighed in contentment after finally getting the first dress on. This was going to be a workout. You look at the dress in the mirror, smiling as if you were happy with how it looked on you. But you knew it wasn't The dress. 

"Are you ready to show everyone?" said the concierge lady, her eyes meeting yours with a smile in the mirror. You nodded happily as you walked out of the fitting room and into the private sitting area. 

Your smile faded for the second time today when you noticed one person missing. Your face said it all as Stephanie answered your question before you even asked.

"She left. We tried to convince her to stay. But she wouldn't listen." Her words made your heart snap in two. You never would have thought you wouldn't be close to your parents anymore. That when your big day arrived, they wouldn't be there every step of the way. Guess you really saw their true selves. You tried your best to keep a smile as you stepped on the small stage to see the dress. 

"I think you look beautiful in this dress." One of your bridesmaid's friends said.

"You'll look gorgeous, mama!"

"Sexy as always, but I can tell this isn't your dress." Added Stephanie with a small smile. You knew she could see right through your barely believable act. 

"Yeah, I agree. I think I'll go try on the next dress." You say before heading back to the dressing room. Once you were back in the dressing room, out of the dress and in the provided robe, you collapsed onto the cushioned seat in tears. 

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry that happened to you. Is there anything we can do?" The sales clerk passed you a box of tissues, and you gladly accepted, not wanting to ruin your makeup. 

"Thank you."

"I'll be right back to get you water." The woman left as you continued to sit there to calm down your tears. 

You didn't realize how long you were in the dressing room until you heard Gabi's voice from the sitting room before hearing familiar large footsteps approaching you. A light knock was heard, followed by one of your many loving nicknames as Miguel walked in, the concern becoming more apparent when he saw your distressed state. 

"Miguel? What are you doing here?" You try to wipe away your tears and hide them, not wanting to have him worry about you.

"My mother called me, saying Sarah walked out, and you were heartbroken." Miguel kneeled before you as he brushed your hair away from your face. When he noticed your tear-stained cheeks, his blood began to boil. How dare that woman make you cry? It broke his heart to see you upset. 

He stood up and sat down beside you before grabbing you and making you straddle his lap. He placed butterfly kisses on your face and neck, something Miguel always knew would make you smile.

When he saw your beautiful smile reappearing, he placed one last kiss on your lips before he stopped to meet your beautiful gaze.

"Need any more of my love to wipe away those tears, cariño?" Miguel lightly chuckled as he used his finger to wipe away your last tears. You smiled as you gently shook your head before leaning in to kiss his lips. 

"Hey, you know the place where you wanted to have the wedding?" Miguel brushed your hair behind your shoulders, trying to hide a large smile on his face.

"Yeah. It would have been so amazing to get married there in Portugal. But I can't wait three years to marry you." You caress his face, trying to memorize all the lovely details.

"Well, I was going to tell you later tonight, but it's better now. I got that venue for our date."

Your breath caught in your throat as new tears appeared. Happy tears threaten to spill. "Oh, Miggy. I thought it was impossible to get it." 

"I might have pulled a few strings." He chuckled at your cute reaction as he wiped away your tears. 

You peppered his face with kisses before placing one on his lips. "Thank you for being so sweet. For loving me. Sometimes, I don't deserve to have someone as amazing as you."

"You have it all wrong, Hermosa. It's me who doesn't deserve a goddess like you. You have changed my world. You made me see all the good things. You made me feel loved for who I am and not what I am. I love you."

"I love you too." 

You stayed in each other's arms for a few more minutes before you heard the rumble of his voice. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm much better. Thank you." Your eyes widen when you realize the time of day. "Miguel, did you come here from work? Oh my god, I'm so sorry that I disturbed your day. You probably have way more important things to deal with than coming across the city to console me." You get off his lap, a blush coming across your cheeks when you realize underneath your robe were only your panties. 

"Mi Amor, I would drop any of my work stuff to be with you. Family is always number one to me. And why did you leave my lap." Miguel pouted as he tried to bring you back. 

"Miguel, I know what you're trying to do. Not happening here. Not in public." You chuckled as you got out of his grasping radius. He stood up from the chair as he walked over towards you. You walked backward until your back hit the wall. He tilted your head as he leaned down to whisper into your ear. 

"It never stopped us before. And you look so good in only a silk robe."  Miguel's hand went inside your robe, lowering towards your sensitive lips.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you felt two of his fingers slide past your underwear and enter your now aching hole. 

But of course, as soon as it began, it ended as you both heard your daughter running out of Stephanie's grasp and towards your dressing room. 

Miguel sighed as he rested his forehead against yours, removing his fingers from you and licking them to remove any trace of you from his fingers before kissing your lips. 

"She's been doing that a lot lately." Miguel huffed.

"It's alright. She's only six and wants to be with us whenever she can. We only get so many years of that." You caress his cheek, placing one last kiss on his lips before leaving your sandwiched spot between the wall and your fiancé, knowing he probably wouldn't be able to control himself if you didn't. 

" I know mi amor. I just love having my alone time with you." Miguel hugged you from behind as he kissed your neck, breathing in your scent. 

"And I love it too. But if we don't separate now, our baby daughter will need therapy." You chuckled as you left his hold, rewrapping your robe to better cover yourself. 

Within seconds, Gabi opens the curtain, followed by Stephanie, who gives you and Miguel an apologetic look. "This girl is fast." 

"¿Qué está pasando, princesa?" (What's going on, Princess?) Miguel chuckled as he picked her up.

"Abuela asked me to check on you and Mama to ensure you weren't playing around. What does she mean?" Gabi smiled as she began to play with her dad's curly hair. You went on Miguel's other side; he instinctively wrapped his free arm around your hips. You gently bumped her nose, making her giggle as you said, "Nothing happened, baby bug."

"But why were you two in here for so long?"

"I was consoling Mama because she was sad. And don't listen to what your Abuela said. She should have thought about her words first before saying that." 

The three of you left the dressing room and into the private showing area, where everyone awaited you. People came up to help console you, the bride, but you smiled, assuring them that you were alright. 

Miguel set Gabi down. Gabi then ran to your legs for a hug, which you happily accepted and returned. Your gaze goes to Miguel and Conchata, who bicker quietly in Spanish.  

You couldn't hear all of it but could make out most of it. 

"Por qué le dirías a Gabi que tú y yo estábamos 'jugando', no le digas que no entiende y que es demasiado joven para saberlo de todos modos'?"(Why would you tell Gabi that y/n and I were 'playing around? Don't tell her that. She  doesn't understand and she is too young to know anyways.)

"Bueno, ¿estaban ustedes dos 'jugando' allí?"(Well, were you two 'playing around' back there?)

"no, y ese no es el punto de esta conversación"

(no, and that is not the point of this conversation.)

"No lo niego del todo, hijo mío. ¿Qué diría Dios?"(I am not fully denying it, my son. What would God say?)

"No hablo de esto contigo. Eso es privado entre mi prometido y yo."(I am not talking about this with you. That's private between me and my fiance.) Miguel's watch buzzed, meaning he was getting a call from work; he looked down and glared at his wrist. "Tengo que tomar este." (I have to take this.)

"Peter, this better be an emergency." He said before he walked outside the store.

Gabi squeezed her tiny hand in yours, jumping up and down in excitement. "Mama, can we look at more dresses. I saw a really pretty one in that room." 

"Of course! Show me where it is." Gabi leads you to one of the rooms filled with various long white gowns. After a few minutes of looking, she points out the dress, to which you happily take it out. Just from the hangar, you think it is beautiful. 

"This one is gorgeous, Gabi. You have great taste. I'll go bring it to the room to try on next."

After looking through more dresses and grabbing some, you were ready to return to the dressing room. Miguel also walked back inside, looking frustrated. Of course, as soon as your eyes met his, his demeanor softened, and he smiled lovingly at you. You walked up to him, caressing his cheek. 

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, just a few annoyances have come up at work. I need to get back to them so they don't do anything stupid. I'll see you this evening." Miguel kissed you, which you happily returned before he hugged Gabi goodbye and walked out the door.

After trying on almost all the dresses, Gabi picked out the last one. Tears prick the corners of your eyes when you see yourself in the mirror as a smile graces your lips.

"This is it. This is the one."

......

8 months before the wedding

"Here are the invitations and the lists for where they go." You slide over the different 'Save the Date' wedding invitations to the postman.

"I love the design of the cards. Very elegant."  The man smiled as he happily took the invitations and address list. 

The bell to the door entrance rang, signifying someone had entered. The person who had entered walked up right next to you, his hand on your lower back. 

"Everything all done here, Hermosa?" 

"Yep. Just finished now. Was Gabi able to make it to soccer practice?" 

"She did. Jumped out herself and ran straight to the field where her friends and coach were." He chuckled.

"Aw, she's growing up too fast. She did that the other day when I took her to her friend's house for her play date. Let's get her favorite takeout for tonight. " 

"That sounds like a good idea." A buzz came from Miguel's watch, and he saw Jess's name pop up. "I'm sorry cariño. I have to take this call." Miguel kissed the top of your head. 

"No worries. See you outside." You gave his hand a love squeeze before he left to answer the call. 

"Everything is all set. One thing I just have to say.  Damn girl, you really snatched up a fine man." The man winked at you as he fanned his hand against his face. 

"He sure is an amazing man. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him." 

You left the post office with a smile on your face. You saw Miguel in the driver's side of his car, still on the phone. You quietly entered the passenger side, trying not to disturb his call. 

A few minutes later, his call ended, and he sighed. 

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just the same everyday stress I have to handle." You place your hand on his knee as you lean towards him and kiss his neck before whispering, "How about when we get back home I can help relieve some of that stress."

Miguel's eyes widened, and a smirk rested on his lips. Instead of driving straight home, Miguel turned the car into an indoor parking garage. It was an underground garage that goes quite deep into the Earth. 

As soon as you reached the lowest levels where no car were in sight, you turned to look at him, confused by the sudden detour. "What are we doing here?" You chuckle as you see him park in the corner. When he turned off the car, he moved the seat back. 

"Come here, cariño." He gently patted his lap. With a smile, you exited the car and went over to his side, where he opened the door for you. You easily get on his lap as you wrap your arms around his neck, capturing your lips with his. One of his hands trailed down from your back to your ass, squeezing your cheek while closing the door. You gasp, letting his tongue slip past your lips. The door is now closed, and his now other free hand goes to your ass. He pushes you closer against him as your tongues explore the familiar parts of each other's mouths. 

Miguel grunts as he feels you rub yourself on his hardened crotch. Too impatient, he moves you slightly back, unbuckles his belt, and unzips his pants before taking out his glorious thick cock.  

"Guess you couldn't wait to get to the bedroom." You giggle when you see him send you a playful glare as his lips mark your neck with kisses and love bites. 

"You were teasing me all day. You're lucky I didn't do anything at the store when we registered for gifts." Miguel's lips kissed up to your ear as he lowered the straps of your tank top, revealing your uncaged breasts. "You know I can't last minutes without being nestled deep inside your walls when you act like that."

You chuckled at his needy words as he brought his lips towards yours into a heated kiss as you unbuttoned his shirt. You slowly dragged your hand down his chiseled tan chest before your hand wrapped around his cock. 

"I swear. Your wish would be to be inside me 24/7." You chuckle against his neck as you kiss his sweet spot. 

Miguel groaned impatiently as he lifted you and not so gently guided himself inside of you; a gasp from your lips as your reaction and a beautiful sound Miguel would never get sick of.

 "Well, that wish will come true for two weeks after we tie the knot." He takes your chin, reddish-brown eyes staring down at you as he begins moving you on his cock. "And you'll officially become Mrs. O'Hara." He begins to quicken his pace, to which you even have to give him the full reins as his right-hand grasps your waist to give you the level of satisfaction you both desire. You never felt self-conscious about your riding skills, never with Miguel. He always knew when to say the right words and touch you in the right places. 

Of course, whenever you did feel a little subconscious about it, Miguel would just whisper in your ear, "A beautiful woman like you shouldn't have to pleasure a man but to have him pleasure you." 

From his sultry words in your ear to the cosmic pleasure ravaging your insides, you felt your knot come and release in an instant. 

Your euphoric high made your walls squeeze tightly around his cock. With the way he's been trying to paw down his boner all day long, he didn't mind releasing himself inside you so quick as long as he knew your needs were satisfied.

Miguel kisses your brow as you gently lean into his touch, both catching your breath. 

"I guess we need to head back to the house," Miguel murmured against your brow.

You look up at him with a suggestive grin as you brush back some strands of hair sticking to his forehead before caressing his cheek. "I think we can spare a bit more time." 

Miguel's grin widened, agreeing, "Be careful what you wish for, cariño." Miguel purred in your ear as he pulled the side handle of this seat, which made the car seat go all the way down.

.....

4 months before the wedding

You woke up at 4:45 am when your eyes finally adjusted to the light of your phone, seeing the time. You groaned out loud, annoyed with yourself for waking up so early. You never were an early morning riser, the opposite of your fiancé, who you know was downstairs in the home gym doing his morning workout routine. 

You were impressed by his strict early morning regimen. No matter how tired he was the day before, he always woke up at 4 am. He worked out until 6, took a shower, and was back in bed by 7 before you woke up at 8. 

However, this morning, you were awake. Maybe it was the nerves and pre-wedding jitters as the clock for your wedding was ticking closer to the date each day. Being too impatient to wait for Miguel to finish his workout, you decided to bother him. Of course, in his words, you never bothered him as he always loved you being in his company, embraced in his arms. 

Before heading to the basement gym, you put on pajama shorts and a tank top. You leaned against the doorway, admiring how your fiancé's muscles flexed as he lifted dumbbells. 

"Like what you see, Hermosa?" Miguel chuckled as he turned around. You bite your lower lip as you gaze over his sweaty physique. Your core grew tighter as you saw his biceps flex from the weights. 

"Mhm, maybe a little bit." You walk towards him, trying to hide your smile, but fail when you see his bright smile. You place your hands on his chest, gently moving them to his shoulders to rest. 

Miguel set his weights on the bench before returning to the same spot. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise when you feel his hands cupping your ass and pulling you closer. 

"Only a little? Will this change your answer?" His lips met yours in a sweet, loving kiss. "Though I'm happy to see you up early this morning, why are you awake now? Is everything okay?"

He cupped your face, concern growing in his eyes. 

"Yeah, you don't have to worry about me. I just woke up feeling nauseous and couldn't fall asleep, so I thought to come down here to keep you company."

"Are you still feeling nauseous?" 

"Yeah, but I probably just need to eat something."

"I'm sorry cariño. I'll go make you something."Miguel began to lead you both upstairs. You stopped, pausing his movements. 

"You don't have to do that. I'll grab something while you finish your workout." You tried to move from him, but before you could comprehend what was happening, all you could see was Miguel's tight ass in his workout shorts as you were now hauled over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

"Miggy. What are you doing?" You laughed as he began to climb the stairs to the first floor. 

When you arrived at the kitchen, he placed you on the counter and gathered the ingredients to make you an omelet. 

"You always come first to me. I can skip a workout to feed my fiancé."

When he stood close to you to chop vegetables, you leaned over to kiss his cheek in appreciation. 

You suddenly need to throw up when you smell the eggs on the pan. 

"I'll be right back." You hid your pale face with a smile as you headed back up to the master bathroom to empty your guts. Not hearing Miguel's footsteps behind you meant he bought your bluff, to your relief. 

When you began to feel better, a thought passed your mind, and you suddenly felt sick again. 

Flushing the toilet and turning on the faucet, you lean your upper body against the sink. You slowly sink your body to the ground in front of the cabinet. Opening the doors, you grab the box for wandering thoughts like the one now currently plaguing your mind. 

As you were anxiously waiting for the haunting test on the sink, you lifted your top to reveal your stomach in the mirror. You took an intake of breath without exhaling as you realized the very subtle baby bump. You quickly went to the test, eyes wide, as you saw the positive mark.

You go back to the kitchen downstairs and see Miguel just plating the food. 

"Your food is ready."

"Thank you for making this for me, honey. But I lost my appetite because...well...this." You show him the pregnancy test. 

Miguel sits down on the stool, staring at the test in shock. He looks back up at you, a smile spreading across his lips. He shoots up from his seat and twirls you around excitedly before kissing you. 

"I know it's a lot sooner than you wanted. But I promise to be there every step of the way." 

"Honestly, after my accident and almost losing my chance to ever have kids. I'm completely fine with having one now."

"I'm assuming you held that information for a reason?" He chuckled.

"Of course I did. The second you found out I wanted to have kids, I don't think we would ever leave our bedroom until I was pregnant." You laughed. 

"You're not wrong on that, mi amor." 

You laugh with your fiancé as you are about to give him a sweet, loving kiss to celebrate your little discovery. However, your body says otherwise as you feel a wave of nausea hit you as you race back to the bathroom, followed by Miguel. 

The nausea only grew worse throughout the day. It wasn't helpful that the final tasting menu and your hair and makeup trial were today. Despite Miguel reassuring you that he could reschedule those events, you refused, as you were hell-bent on your wedding plans not being delayed.

Instead of you adventuring outside, Miguel made a few calls and could move everything to the house simultaneously. 

"So why the sudden location change?" Hummed Stephanie as she leaned on the kitchen counter, sampling one of the dinner choices for the wedding reception. You had called her over this morning asking for her opinion, which she was more than happy to do. However, when she saw your sickly-looking skin tone and your constant need to excuse yourself with Miguel looking anxious every time questions were raised in your best friend's mind. 

"It's supposed to rain all day today."

"Haven't see cloudless rain before. Must be something new." 

"Gabi was sick, so we needed to stay home with her." 

"Mama, I'm not sick." Gabi looks up at you, confused from the kitchen stool she was sitting next to you drawing. 

You look back to Stephanie with a nervous smile as she narrows her eyes at you. 

"Hermosa, I don't think you can hide it much longer," Miguel added.

"Oh, I could tell something was up when I first saw you today." 

You sigh as you look at Miguel, who is trying his best to hide his amusement. You look at your daughter, who is happily coloring. "Baby bug, would you like to tell Auntie Steph the big news?" 

Gabi smiled brightly as she held up the picture she was drawing. It was her, Miguel, and you with a round belly. 

"I'm going to be a big sister!"

Stephanie's eyes widen in surprise before she goes straight to hug you.

"That's amazing! Ahh, I'm going to be an aunt again! Congratulations, you too!"

You happily hug her back. " Of course, you can tell Jack. But is it possible for you and him to keep it a secret? Just until after the wedding. I don't think Miguel and I could handle the extra annoyances from the in-laws if they knew." 

"I totally understand Jack and I's lips are sealed."  Stephanie zipped her lips and tossed the invisible key away. "Now, do we all agree neither dish is perfect for your guys' reception?" Stephanie pushed the plate away.

"I've been waiting for someone else to say it," Miguel added as he dumped the food in the trash.

"From the smell of it, I can agree." Your nausea gets the better of you as you rush back up to the bathroom, followed by a worried and doting Miguel. 

Stephanie chuckled as she watched the couple rush up the stairs. "Your parents are adorable. Aren't they, Gabi?"

"Yeah! Am I adorable, too?"

"You are the most adorable." Stephanie booed Gabi's nose, making her giggle. 

.....

2 months before the wedding

"Everything looks good and healthy." The Doctor smiles as she helps wipe up the gel on your stomach. 

"How far along am I?"  

"You're three months along. Now, make sure to follow all these instructions." The Doctor handed you the paper, which you happily accepted before handing it to Miguel, knowing he would be more responsible for not losing it. 

"Do you have any questions?"

You chuckled when you saw Miguel take out his list of questions, which he had been writing down for the past few weeks since you had scheduled the Doctor's visit. 

Even though you have a daughter, neither of you have gone through the pregnancy process, making him act like a first-time and nervous father.

After letting Miguel ask questions for another 30 minutes, it was time to go. Bless the Doctor's heart for being so patient. Even your bladder couldn't handle it, leaving the room twice. 

You both get in the car as Miguel drives you to the bridal boutique. Ever since you both found out that you were pregnant, Miguel has been a little bit overprotective, if you were putting it nicely. 

Despite being the CEO of Alchemex, he was able to go to work only two times a week. And despite being dotting before, he is at your beck and call, whether that be driving you somewhere since he has been too nervous to let you drive while pregnant despite you telling him you were fine or getting you a glass of water every time you were thirsty. 

Miguel placed his free hand on top of yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. He glanced over at you with a heartfelt smile. 

"Are you still good to head to city hall after your appointment?" 

"Of course. I'm glad to be out of the house a lot today. I feel like I've been cooped up all week." You smiled back at him as you placed your other hand on your small baby bump. 

"Just double-checking Hermosa. I know the morning sickness has improved, but I wanted to ensure you were okay with being at city hall for a bit. Even with the expedited appointment, we might still be waiting." 

"I never thought you had to apply for a marriage permit." Your cheeks tinted pink out of embarrassment. 

Miguel chuckled as he lifted your hand intertwined in his and kissed your knuckles. 

"Don't feel embarrassed, mi amor. You're 22. I doubt you were thinking of getting married anytime soon." Miguel's fingers gently fidgeted with your engagement ring.

You chuckled as you squeezed his hand out of love. "Well, before us, I definitely wouldn't have imagined being a pregnant mother of a six-year-old getting ready to be married in two months to the love of my life." You look over at him as you take in his appearance. "And I wouldn't want it any other way." 

"I love you," he lovingly looked over at you. You leaned towards his seat and kissed his cheek.

"I love you too, Miggy."

After some time in the bridal shop, you say your goodbyes and leave to see your fiancé in the car working. You were relieved that the dress fit with plenty more wiggle room for when your stomach gets bigger. You were thankful for the bridal store's kindness for the sudden change so close to your wedding. You guessed it didn't help that you had told them as soon as you found out about your pregnancy, and maybe because of the extra sum given to have it done. 

Around 20 minutes later, you arrive at City Hall. When you get to the right floor for marriage permits, you internally groan when you see the long line going around the corner and down the hall. You hear Miguel sigh, which makes you smile, knowing he feels the same way. 

Another 20 minutes passed, feeling more like an eternity with your swollen feet, and the line barely moved. You felt Miguel wrap an arm around your waist as he brought you in front of him. He leaned against the wall before moving you to lean against him. 

"Lean on me, cariño," Miguel whispered in your ear. 

You look up at him: "Are you sure? You must tired, too."

He smiled lovingly down at you, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. "I'm perfectly fine. You're carrying our child. You must be tired from standing. Lean on me to relieve the stress in your back." 

You smile up at him as you get on your toes to give him a quick kiss and thank you before you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him as you lean your head on his chest. You sigh in relief as leaning against him relieves some of your soreness. 

"Thank you, honey." You say against his chest. Your heart flutters when you hear the vibration of his chuckle before you feel him kiss the top of your head. 

"Anything for you, mi amor." 

Another 20 minutes went by, and it was beginning to become mentally painful to see how slow the line was going. 

"There you are, Mr. O'Hara." A man walking by stopped in front of the two of you, making you turn around. 

"Yes?" Miguel spoke.

"I've been searching the halls for you. I'm going to get you and Ms. L/n your marriage permit. I apologize for the delay. When the security checked you in, they should have sent you straight to me. Please follow me this way." The man gestured for you and Miguel to follow him. 

You look up to Miguel as you shrug your shoulders before following the government official. 

You enter an office that would be deemed very nice for a government-paid room. You sit and smile as tears threaten to spill from the relief you feel in your feet and lower back. 

"You know, for someone of my standing, maybe you should have been waiting at the check-in to bring us to your office and not depend on a security guard to do your job. Instead, my pregnant fiancé and I had to wait in line for almost an hour in an unconditioned building. You're lucky she didn't faint from the heat." Miguel's tone became serious, with an obvious tone of anger. 

Your fiancé's death glare alone could send someone into an early grave. Should you be scared? Maybe. But all you felt was how hot he looked doing it. 

"My deepest apologies, Mr. O'Hara. I can waive the fee for the permit." The official swallowed nothing, and his nerves were evident on his face. 

"That's not needed. I'll pay for it. Just do better for the next couple." 

"O-of course, sir." 

Thankfully, after a speedy process through all the paperwork, most likely from Miguel's glare going straight into the official's soul. 

"Bring this to the ceremony, sign it, and mail it in for it to be registered afterward. And that's it for here. Once again, I apologize for the earlier inconvenience. If you need anything from us, please don't hesitate to contact me. Here is my personal phone number." The man hands Miguel a paper with his number. "Have a lovely evening."

You and Miguel stood up from your seats to your dissatisfaction as Miguel led you out of the office. Once you left the building, Miguel sighed in relief. 

You turned around and placed your hands on his chest. 

"You were very impressive in there, Mr. O'Hara."

He placed his hands on your hips as he grinned down at you. "I try my best, Mrs. O'Hara." He leaned down for a kiss, but he stopped by your finger. 

"Not yet, your Mrs." You winked at him with a smile as you walked out of his grasp and towards the car. Miguel chuckled deeply from behind you. 

"I love it when you feisty Hermosa." 

.....

1 month before the wedding 

You mindlessly stared at the white wall as you lay in bed. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop the tears as you felt another wave of pain in your abdomen. 

You heard voices from outside the bedroom door. 

"How was she today?" Miguel spoke in a whisper. 

"Nothing new. She's been in bed beside the few times she needed to use the restroom too well. You know. She still hasn't eaten anything. I'm worried about her. She won't listen to anything I say. Maybe you can get through to her today." Spoke Stephanie.

"Thank you for watching her and Gabi while I dealt with that emergency at work." 

"Of course. You know I would do anything for her. How have you been managing?" 

"It's been a hard two weeks. But I'm more worried for her. It breaks my heart to have her go through this. If I ever see that bitch Sofia... I probably would end up in prison myself for what I would do."

"Fortunately, she has been behind bars for a long time. I'll let you go in there. I'll help finish the seating chart and the remaining small details that still need to be done."

"Thank you for all the extra help you and Jack have been doing for the wedding. It means a lot to both of us."

You heard Stephanie say goodbye before you heard the door to your bedroom open. As the bed dipped, you felt arms wrap around you. 

You closed your eyes to pretend to fall asleep, not wanting to talk. 

Two weeks ago:

You stood in front of a corkboard with circles organized according to importance. You stared at the board for hours, figuring out where to place your parents. 

"Urgh. Should I place them at the main family table? I don't really want to interact with them. If they even decide to come to the wedding." You mumble to yourself out loud. You look down at Gabi lying on the ground, watching her favorite morning cartoons. You smiled at how adorable your daughter was.

"Hey, baby bug. Where should my parents sit at the wedding?"

Gabi stood up and walked right up next to you with her usual happy smile. You passed her your parents' little name tags as she took them and went to the board. On her tiptoes, she put your parents' name tags at the main family table. 

"When I have my wedding, I want you and Papa to sit right next to me." You smile as you see her go on her tiptoes to put the name tags in the right place on the board. Over the course of the time you've lived here, you've seen her grow so much already. You knew she would get some of her father's height from how tall she was now at 7.

"Perfect! Do you want to help with the gift bags?" 

Gabi's eyes sparked with excitement as she jumped up and down towards the dining room table. You chuckled as you followed behind her. After a few minutes of showing her what went into each bag and seeing her do one, you left her on her own while you went to the kitchen to make you and her lunch. 

You felt something unusual in your abdomen. Your hand went to your round belly, a smile coming to your lips when you thought it was the baby kicking for the first time. That happy smile quickly turned as you felt another sensation, but it was a sharp pain. Your hand clenched your stomach as the pain kept on coming. A wet patch forms between your legs, but when you look down, your eyes widen to see blood drip from your thighs to the floor. 

You grunted in pain as it became worse, making you collapse to the ground before you could grab your phone. 

"No, no, no, no." You cried out loud in pain. This couldn't be happening. On that day, Miguel had to go to work. 

"Mama?"  Gabi walked into the kitchen. When she saw you lying on the floor in pain, you saw her face scrunch up as you saw her tears start to fall. She runs up to you as she kneels beside you. 

"Mama! You're bleeding! Are you hurt?" Gabi cried, scared for you. 

You gain enough strength to caress her face to try and soothe her. "I'll be alright, sweetheart. But something is not right with your brother or sister. Can...can..you...can you get my phone?"

Gabi nodded as she stood up and went to the kitchen counter. Getting on her tippy toes, she grabbed the phone. When she had it, she came back to your side and handed it to you. 

You start to feel your vision go in and out.

"Sweetie, you remember how we taught how to dial the phone?"

"Yeah." 

"Mama is having a hard time with her vision. Can you press 911 and then the green button for me?"

"Okay." You heard her sniffling as you tried to console her and let her know everything would be alright. 

You last heard a knock on the door before everything went black. 

You groaned as you awoke from what seemed like a deep slumber. You feel your hand in another's grip tightening slightly when you move your arm a little.

"Mi Amor?" Your fingers gently brushed against your cheek as you smiled, leaning into the warmth. 

"Miguel?" You start to notice your surroundings in a hospital. Once again... you sit up suddenly but are met with a stinging pain in your lower abdomen as you cry out in pain. 

"Y/n, don't strain yourself so soon. You have lost a lot of blood." Miguel sits on the bed next to you as he brings you into his loving embrace. You look at him and notice his tear-stained face and tired red eyes. You place your hands on his face, concerned about why your fiancé was so upset. 

The pain in your stomach and your fiancé's distressed face made tears fall down as you realized what had happened. 

"The baby...they're gone?" Even though you knew the answer, you hoped Miguel would reassure you. Instead, the pained look in his eyes worsened as he brought your head into the crook of his neck. 

"I'm so sorry."

You cried in his arms for the remainder of the Night until you passed out from exhaustion. Not once did Miguel leave your side as he stayed in the bed with you, consoling your broken heart. 

Nurses came in every hour to check your vitals and ask if you needed anything. It wasn't until morning that you woke up to see the Doctor walk in—the same one from the last time you were here.

That morning took a piece of your heart away when the Doctor explained to you and Miguel the cause of the miscarriage. Ever since your car accident and almost losing your uterus, it has become not the most suitable place for a baby to grow, and it would be very hard for you to carry out a full-term pregnancy. Pretty much tells you that you couldn't have kids. At least, that is how you took the news. 

"Y/n, please talk to me. You haven't left the bedroom in two weeks and barely eaten anything. It's breaking my heart to see you like this." Miguel whispered in your ear as he kissed the side of your head. 

You turn yourself to face him as you look up at him. You could see the bags under his eyes and how tired he looked. You knew he was grieving as much as you were, but still being strong to keep everything together, unlike you, who broke apart.

 

"Maybe you should marry someone who can give you and Gabi the family you deserve." You say barely above a whisper.

You feel strong hands on your face as he lifts your chin to look at him. Brown eyes are now serious.

" y/n, don't ever say something like that again. You are the only woman I love and want to marry and have a family with. No one else. And you know that is not true about your inability to have kids. You still can have children. We just have a few extra obstacles, and that's all."

"But what if I can't."

"Even if we never have a baby, we still have that little girl who loves and idolizes you more than her favorite sport. More than the world. Even more than me." He chuckled, which made you crack a small smile. He added: "We still have our little Princess and will always have her. And just having you and Gabi in my life is more than enough. I couldn't see my life without either one of you."

"I couldn't live without you and Gabi either. I think having little family outings and focusing on planning the wedding will help make life normal again." 

Miguel leaned down as he placed a sweet and loving kiss on your lips before smiling, "I couldn't agree more."

.....

The Night before the wedding

After a relaxing day of shopping and lounging at the pool with your bridesmaids, you're glad to be heading back to your room to rest and prepare for your big day tomorrow. 

Instead of heading to the elevators, Stephanie directs you to the bar area. Heading to the bar, she sits down, followed by you right next to her. 

"Two glasses of champagne, please." Stephanie smiled at the bartenders, who nodded with a smile at her request. 

You look at her in surprise that she ordered you a glass. " Steph, I'm not sure I'm ready to drink yet. I haven't had a drop since before finding out I was pregnant."

"I know it's only been a month since you lost the baby, but it's the night before your wedding. The champagne is barely alcohol. Plus you shouldn't have anything else so you can look your best tomorrow. But honestly. You could look like a train wreck, and Miguel would still think you are the most gorgeous woman on Earth."

You smile as you look at the glass handed to you. "You're not wrong there. You know this is the first time I feel completely fine talking about the miscarriage." You smiled. The bartender arrives with the glasses. Stephanie lifted hers towards you. Taking a deep breath, you smile as you pick it up and clink your glass with hers. "To the start of a new chapter." Stephanie smiled before taking a sip. You smiled, " To a new chapter." Before taking a sip. 

You noticed the time as you were chatting away about memories from your childhood or college. 

"Oh shoot, I guess I need to head to bed if I want to get at least a full night's rest."

"Good idea. You definitely won't be getting any during your honeymoon," Stephanie winked as she took another sip of her drink. "Oh, I have something to give you," Stephanie said as she grabbed a medium-sized box from one of her shopping bags. 

"Oh, Stephanie, you didn't have to do that. With everything you've done with planning the wedding. That's been an amazing gift."

"Of course, girlie. Anything for my BFF. Then let this be your post-wedding gift. I'll let you open it in private." Stephanie grinned before gently pushing the box to you on the counter. 

You narrowed your eyes at your best friend, wondering what she was up to before flashing her a smile. 

After saying your goodbyes, you made it to your bedroom. You sighed as you entered a quiet room. There is no sign of a warm, deep voice greeting you or a giggling voice in front of the T.V. in the other room before small footsteps come running towards you for a hug. You and Miguel wanted to be in a suite together as a family. But Conchata insisted you were in separate rooms. Even separate floors. You both agreed only because she stopped breathing down Miguel's back.

You sit on the bed, too big for one, and glance at the box Stephanie gave you. Grabbing it and setting it on your lap, you take the top off the box. Your cheeks go bright red once you lift the tissue paper. A card is placed on the intricate white silk lace lingerie. 

A little something to spice up the wedding night. It's not like the two of you need it, though; - ) 

-Steph😘

Your eyes widen as you lift the piece of clothing.

"How in the hell do you get this on?"

You notice another card fall out. Setting the lingerie back in the box, you leaned down to pick it up. 

Knowing you: Here are instructions on how to put it on.

You roll your eyes as you set the instructions on the bed. 

You were in the bathroom suite, trying to put these strings on your body right. You stopped midway as you looked at yourself and then at the photo, knowing you had already messed up. 

"How the fuck do I put this on?" You growled to yourself. 

You heard a faint knock on your door. Quickly getting out of it, "At least it's easy to take off."

Back in your comfy lounge, you head to the door, where you hear another faint knock, this time a deep voice followed by a young one. 

You smile as you open the door and see Miguel and Gabi looking very tan from being at the beach all day. While your bridesmaids whisked you away, Miguel and Gabi spent the day together. Although you love spending time with Steph and all your old friends, you would have liked to spend all day at the beach sitting beside Miguel while watching Gabi making sand castles or collecting shells nearby. 

"Mama!" Gabi ran in as she hugged you. You happily picked her up and kissed the top of her forehead. 

Miguel followed behind her as he closed the door. 

"Hola, Hermosa." Miguel smiled as he brought you close and gave you a sweet kiss on the lips. 

"Hi, you two. I thought I wouldn't get to see you both until tomorrow. I've missed you all day," you say as you walk to the sofa with Gabi and sit down with her on your lap. Miguel follows as he sits right next to you. 

"We missed you too! Especially Papa. He kept saying how much he missed you and wished you were with us."

"Can I not have any secrets kept from your mother?" He chuckled as he picked her up from your lap and tickled her. 

"Nope!" She squealed in laughter. "Mama, help me!" 

"Did you say tickle you too? Okay." You laugh as you also begin to tickle her. 

"No, mama, I said help me!" Gabi giggled as she tried to get away from the both of you. 

After a few minutes, you finally give your daughter her freedom, and she immediately hops off the couch and away from our reach. 

"Mama! I have a present for you! Papa, where's Mama's present?" Gabi said as she sat in between you and Miguel.

"A present? For me?" Your smile widens as Miguel hands her a rectangular envelope. 

"Here you go." Gabi smiled.

You look at the envelope as you see hearts drawn all over and in Gabi's handwriting:

To: Mama

Love: Gabi♥️

"I hope you like it." She smiled as she kept jumping up and down in her seat, and Miguel lifted her to his lap to stop.

"Aw, I bet I will, baby bug. I like anything you get me."

"But this present is extra special."

"Oh?" You gently open the envelope, careful not to tear it, and take out a folded paper. 

Opening it up, you read the first few lines—it was a government form. Tears began to brim the corner of your eyes as you read the first word at the top of the paper: adoption.

You looked at Gabi as tears began to spill. A wide smile made its way to your lips as you wrapped your arms around Gabi, brought her to your lap, and gave her a big hug. 

"Aw, Gabi. This is the best gift you could ever give me. Thank you." 

"I'm happy you love it, mama." Gabi smiled as she wrapped her arms around your neck. 

Miguel smiled as he brought you both to his side. 

"I guess the gift I have for you might not compare."

You turned to look at him, surprised by his words. 

"You got me something else?" 

" I did. But you can't know what it is until the morning. Are you fine with waking up really early?" Your smile widens from his mysterious words. You lean up to kiss his cheek. 

"I can't wait. Do you know what it is, Gabi?"

Gabi giggled as she covered her mouth and shook her head before she said, "I can't tell you. I pinky promised Papa." 

You brushed her hair behind her ears as you gave her a hug. "Oh, alright. I guess I'll just have to wait until morning then."

You all ended up getting cozy as a family on the bed, all in pajamas. Gabi sat between your legs as she watched the family-friendly movie on the T.V. while you braided her hair. 

"Pass me your other hair tie, sweetie." Gabi took the blue scrunchie with the charm of a soccer ball and handed it to you. "Thank you. Annnnd All done!"

Gabi looked at her two braids with a smile on her face as she turned around and gave you another hug. You lifted her to the covers and said, " Okay, it's time to go to sleep. We all have a big day tomorrow."

"Aww, do we have to? The movie isn't over."

Miguel pulls the covers over her to get her settled. "You can watch it from right here. And yes, we do. All three of us have to be up super early. Good Night, princesa." Miguel kisses the top of her head before turning off the light. 

As soon as the lights were off, your eyes suddenly felt heavy, and you fell asleep surrounded by the love of your life and your baby daughter. 

You awoke to the sound of an alarm. It was 4:30 am, and it was still nighttime outside. You got out of bed and went to freshen up in the bathroom. When you walked in, you saw Miguel holding a familiar piece of paper in his hand. You blushed as you snatched it out of his hands. 

"You aren't meant to see that until later today." Your reddened cheeks said it all as Miguel saw the box on the counter. You move in front of it, knowing what he was thinking. 

Miguel chuckled, "And what is it that I can't see until then?" His voice is still low from just waking up. He walks right up to you, putting his arms on both sides, trapping you between him and the counter. 

"Trust me. You will want to wait on this one." 

"I can't wait."

You smiled as he lifted your chin, leaning down to kiss your lips with a sweet, long kiss. 

"We're getting married today." 

"Maybe a lot sooner than you think. I have something for you in the closet." Miguel lets you free from your intimate trap as you go to the closet. You gasp as you see a beautiful, long white silk sundress with a low back and a few accessories. 

When you were finally dressed, including your hair and makeup, you walked back into the main area of the suite. You smiled as you saw Miguel wearing a nice dress shirt and pants. 

"Mama, look at my dress!"

You saw Gabi in a beautiful light blue dress, matching her father's shirt. 

"You look beautiful, baby bug." You pick her up as you twirl her around. 

"You look really, really pretty, Mama. You too, Papa!" Gabi smiled in your arms. Miguel placed a hand on your lower bare back, sending a spark up your spine. 

"We better get going. The boat is waiting for us." Your fiancé's words piqued your interest, and you looked up at him with a smile and a curious look.

"A boat?"

"You'll see soon enough, cariño." Miguel chuckled as he led you out of the hotel and to a car, the driver waiting for all of you. 

After a 10-minute drive, you were at the beach. You felt a beautiful peace, as the only thing you could hear was the beautiful song of the ocean. 

(Play here if you want😊)

Miguel took your hand in his, giving you a love squeeze. "You're going to love this, Mama!" Gabi smiled as she was skipping slightly ahead of the two of you. A few minutes walk on the beach on a dock before you saw a gorgeous small yacht decorated with hanging lights and music.

"Miguel, this...this is beautiful. What is it for?"

You both followed Gabi as she was already boarding the boat. When you got on the boat, you gasped at how beautiful everything was up close. The front of the boat was decorated with your favorite flowers, and the petals made a path to a small white pergola with a person standing underneath. 

The boat began to move on the water as you marveled at the beauty of The Algarve of Portugal from the water. 

"Now, can I know what the rest of this wonderful surprise is?"

Miguel turned to you with the happiest and most loving smile, his eyes showing just as much. He took both your hands in his.

"I know that the last month has been stressful. And not only the miscarriage but the stress of everyone a part of the wedding. I could see the stress and sadness in your eyes during the rehearsal with your parents and the annoyance of some of your bridesmaids. I know everything we have planned will be beautiful, and I can't wait to see you walk down that aisle later today and pour out all my love to you in front of everyone. But this is just for us. No loud noise. Let's get married right here. Let's have a memory of today that only the three of us will keep close to our hearts. I love you so much, Y/n L/n, that I want to marry you twice. Will you do me the honor?" 

You wrap your arms around his neck as you get on your toes—easier since you are wearing heels—and kiss him sweetly, giving your answer. 

You spent time in each other's arms, watching the moon begin to dip behind the horizon while watching Gabi play around the boat. 

"Hermosa." You can hear the smile in Miguel's voice as he gently calls out to you, waking you from your slight slumber. You were so cozy sitting beside him, keeping warm from the ocean breeze, that you dozed off on his shoulder. 

"It's time." You look ahead to this beautiful natural archway. When you look carefully, you see that it makes a heart shape. 

Miguel leads you to the pergola, where the official is with Gabi ahead, throwing more petals. He leaned towards you, his lips by your ear. 

"Locals say that if you kiss the one you love under this archway just as the sun rises and lights it up, the couple's souls will be connected forever."

Just as the sun begins to peak over the horizon, bringing the bright colors of the world, the official begins. Despite the beauty of nature around you, you can only look into the eyes of the man you love with your whole being. 

After the official says the words that bind you and Miguel forever, sunlight lands on the archway, and Miguel puts his hand behind your head and kisses you with all the love he has for you as you do for him. 

"I love you, Miguel O'Hara."

"I love you too, Y/n O'Hara." 

You spend the rest of the early morning having a celebratory breakfast as a family on the boat before returning to the hotel. Miguel takes you back to your room and places one last kiss on your lips. 

"I'll see you at the altar." He winked at you with a smile before he and Gabi returned to their designated room. 

After resting and bathing again, you heard a knock on your door, and a group of women were exchanging their words on the other side. 

You open the door in a robe. "Good morning, everyone." You smile happily. Miguel was right. This morning, all your stress and worries for today disappeared, as you already got what you wanted from today.

After you and everyone were ready, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes at how beautiful you looked. The dress your amazing baby daughter had picked out. The white gown was covered in a beautiful lace hat that hugged your figure perfectly to the ground, and the middle end of the dress was a bit see-through. The lace formed your shoulders, arms,  and chest just as the neckline dipped to show some of your cleavage. Your favorite part was the beautiful long and wide dress skirt hanging from your hips that covered the sides and back of your dress as it trailed down to the ground, along with a gorgeous soft white veil that went to the floor being held by a beautiful diamond encrusted headband as your hair flowed around your shoulders pulled back a little at the top to reveal more of you face.  

"Hey, no ruining my makeup masterpiece." Stephanie chuckled as she handed you a tissue. "But you look stunning. Miguel is totally going to tear up on that altar." 

You chuckled, as you had only seen your now secretly husband tear up a few times, so you weren't sure if he would in front of a lot of people.

 

Everyone walked out of the room and headed outside to the car. You smiled as you saw your father exit the driver's side of a beautiful silver-white vintage Rolls Royce. 

He walked up to you with a smile on his face. Only a few days ago, when everyone arrived in The Algarve, your father regretted everything that was said and done. He finally realizes how much you and Miguel mean to each other. It was when you had the miscarriage. He was the one who got you to the hospital as he was planning on visiting you that day to apologize. When he called Miguel and met him at the hospital, he saw all his anger for his friend dissolve and saw how much Miguel loved you. 

Of course, after that apology, you told him it would take some time to fully forgive him, but you were happy that the process was starting. Well, at least for one parent. You had asked him to escort you to church and walk you down the aisle, which he was more than happy to do. 

"You look beautiful." He said, which made you smile. 

"She didn't come and see me." You said to him.

"She's at the church. It wasn't smart for you to have seen her.”

"Do you think she'll ever come around?" You looked up to your father, hoping for a reassuring reply. " Let's get you to that church."

As the car takes you to the cliff where the church is, you smile as you see the locals congratulating you from the streets. When the car comes to a stop, your heart feels like it's beating in your chest, and butterflies begin to fly in your stomach. 

Your father gets out before going to the back, where he opens the door and helps you out. Stephanie and your other bridesmaids, who were in the car behind you, came up to you to make sure everything looked right before walking the remaining feet away to the church entrance. 

You saw Conchata and Gabi outside the entrance waiting for you. 

"Mama!" Gabi ran to you as you happily leaned down to hug her. "You look like a beautiful princess!" She added.

"Aw, thank you, baby bug. You also look like a beautiful princess in your flower girl dress." You did love her dress; it was a light pink silk dress, and the skirt puffed out a bit with tulle underneath. She wore her hair in a bun wrapped with a braid with diamonds on a pink headband. Similar to yours. 

"You look beautiful, my daughter." Conchata hugged you.

"Thank you, Conchata."

Conchata left to go inside to take her seat. And that's when the music began to play. The bridesmaids and their partners began to go in, with Jack and Stephanie being the last ones to go. Jack gave you a hug, saying, "You look amazing, y/n."

"Thanks, Jack."

You took a deep breath, clutching your bouquet tighter as you started to feel the nerves growing. 

"Just look at Miguel and no one else when you enter. It helps with the nerves." Your father smiled as he offered you his arm. You happily put your arms through his. "Thanks, Dad."

The main chorus begins to play, hinting that you should enter. You took another deep breath before you and your father entered the church. You marveled at the beauty of the interior, as it was all wood with flowers that matched your bouquet, which was placed perfectly on the ends of the pews and the altar. You saw Stephanie and Jack up there looking at you joyfully. You saw Gabriel standing on the other side with Gabi right before him. 

Your eyes finally land on reddish-brown as your heart grows bigger. Your smile widens as you keep them on him. You finally reach the altar steps as Miguel walks down to receive you. Your father takes your hand and places it in Miguel's. "Take care of her now. Which I know you've been doing. Thank you." Your father says to Miguel with a smile. Miguel looks at you and replies to your father, "I will."

As Miguel leads you up the altar, he leans toward you and whispers, " You look so beautiful. When I saw you walk down that aisle, it felt like I was falling in love with you for the first time."

You give his hand a love squeeze. "I felt the same too." You notice that tears are threatening to spill from his eyes. 

"Oh, Miguel." You gently wipe a tear from his face. 

"I can't help it, mi amor. You're just so beautiful."

The officiator began the ceremony. It felt like time was still going on, as you could only look at Miguel. Before you knew it, the officiator asked for the vows.

"Miguel, I am so happy that you swept me away from that random guy at the bar all those years ago in Miami. I'm so happy the universe reunited us to have that weekend not be the only time spent together. I am so happy and grateful to be a part of your family. I am so grateful to be loved by you and our daughter, and to you for bringing her into my life. The time I have spent with you has been the happiest days of my life, and I can't wait to continue having more happy years as your wife." You wipe away the tears falling down your face. Miguel moves closer to you, helps wipe away the tears, and smiles lovingly at you. 

"Y/n, mi amor. My sun and universe. When our eyes met across the bar, I knew you would be someone special to me. You have made my soul complete since you came back into my life. Every smile and laugh of yours makes my heart glow. I've been so lucky to wake up beside you every morning and be the person you see first thing every morning. I can't wait to do that every morning for the rest of my life." His words brought your tears back, which made both of you chuckle as he helped you again wipe them away. 

You looked up at him again as you put his wedding band on his finger, and he looked at you with so much love and desire putting on yours.

After a few more words were said by the officiator.

The words you've been waiting for...

"You may kiss the bride." Miguel grinned as he took your waist, brought you close, and kissed you. You placed your hand on his face to bring him closer, and tears ran down both your cheeks and his. 

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Cheers erupted from the pews as you and Miguel forced yourself to end the kiss. You walked down the aisle hand in hand out of the church, followed by everyone else.

After taking many photos with the hired photographer and getting dressed in reception attire, which was your gown minus the detachable wide skirt and veil, you kept the headband as a gift from Miguel. You loved how it looked in your hair. 

The reception was going off amazing. Everyone was happy, most likely because it was an open bar. You smiled as you gazed out into the ocean. The reception was on the beach under a gorgeous white and blue tent decorated to the nines with hardwood flooring and beautiful crystal chandeliers. 

You felt a hand placed on your own, turning your attention to your husband. Your brows furrowed when you saw concern in his eyes. 

"Is everything okay?" You smile as you give his hand a love squeeze. 

"Everything is perfect, cariño. I was wondering if you were okay? You haven't touched your food yet. Do you feel ill? Do u want me to have them get you something else?" 

You smile as you lean towards him and kiss his cheek, whispering, "I'm super happy. I'm just reminiscing about this morning." You lean back slightly to see Miguel's eyes fill with love. 

"I'm glad you liked the gift." Miguel caressed your face, took your chin, and kissed you. 

"I loved it. It was beyond perfect. And it made the rest of today so much easier." 

You hear a wine glass chime directing everyone's attention to the live band, where Stephanie and Gabriel now stood. 

"Hi, everyone; we hope you have been having a fantastic time." Stephanie smiled as she lifted her drink, causing the people around her to clap and cheer. 

"As the maid of honor, I must come up here and talk about my bestie, Y/n. And this speech has not been seen by her, so I'm sorry if I embarrass you a little. But it's all out of love." Stephanie blows you an air kiss, which you laugh as you catch it and blow a kiss to her. 

"I have known Y/n since we played little league soccer at 4. We sat on the grassy field, munching on the grass while the other kids ran around with the ball in their hands. And that's when two troublemakers became inseparable. Going on adventures for hours, flirting with older boys, and getting into mischief at the neighborhood barbecues. And god, we were worse when we finally got our driver's license. But that made the adventures even more exciting. Especially that trip to Miami. I found a hookup to get over an ex and you found love. When I saw you and Miguel together for the first time at that breakfast, I knew it was something special. Maybe neither of you knew it at the time. But the way you looked at each other wasn't just lust; it was love. And oh my god. When you came to our room the day of our departure, you left before he woke up. I swear I wanted to strangle you for how ridiculous you were for doing that. When we arrived at that neighborhood barbecue after returning from Europe, we were sleep-deprived and saw Miguel again. I knew you two were fated to be together. And I'm so happy to have gotten to know you, Miguel, and Gabi. I'm thrilled and happy to take the role of the fun Auntie. Congratulations again to Miguel And Y/n O'Hara." Stephanie raised her champagne glass as everyone clapped and cheered. When Stephanie left the stage, you walked over to her and gave her a hug as you wiped away the happy tears.

" Now, the speech my brother has been waiting for." Gabriel chuckled as he winked at Miguel. Miguel face palmed, and he swore in Spanish under his breath. You laughed lightly as you wrapped your arm around his and rested your head on his shoulder. 

"Miguel, you have been the best big brother and man this world could ever have. For as long as I can remember, you have always been there to help and support me and anyone who needed it. I know you always wished for someone to be there for you even though it was hard with your position; you didn't know who to trust. But I'm so happy you found someone who lights up your day. Y/n, thank you so much for filling that missing piece of him. You two will have many happy years together because you were meant for each other. To the happy couple." 

Once again, everyone clapped and cheered, and when Gabriel sat down next to Miguel, he hugged him in thanks. 

"Mama?" You and Miguel looked to see your daughter standing between both your chairs.

"Hi, baby bug. Are you having fun with the other kids?"

"Yeah! I'm happy that you and Papa found each other and that became my mom. You're the best mom in the whole wide world." 

"Aw, Gabi. I'm so happy and grateful to be your mom. You're the best daughter in the world." You have her sit on your lap as you hug her. 

"I love you, mama." Gabi hugs you tighter.

"I love you too, my baby bug."

As the day turned into the night with food, drinks, and dancing with your husband and daughter, plus your favorite part when you and Miguel cut the cake, you both put frosting on Gabi's nose as she had done to the both of you.

It was time for you and Miguel to go to the airport to catch your flight to your honeymoon. However, Miguel kept the destination a secret from you. After saying goodbyes, especially to Gabi, as she was returning to Nueva York with Gabriel as you wouldn't see her for two weeks.

You sat in Miguel's lap as the driver took you two to the jet. You both talked about today's highlights. 

When you arrived inside the jet, you noticed the stark difference between the one you usually take and this one. There were only a few seats and then a wall with a door. Was it storage? You were surprised when the air host walked you both to the back of the plane and opened that door, revealing a large master bedroom with a full-size bed. The air host said to press the call button if you two needed anything before leaving and closing the door behind them.

You were so stunned by seeing a literal bedroom and full-size bathroom on a plane that you were slightly started when you felt Miguel's arms wrap around your middle, bringing you against him as he kissed your neck. 

"A little surprised, mi amor?" Miguel chuckled. You turned around to face him and wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him. 

"Just a little. Never would have thought I would be in a bedroom in the sky." 

"Well, let me make it worth your while." Miguel's lips met yours with passion and desire. He quickly turned you back around to unzip your dress. As it fell to the ground, he looked at what you were wearing underneath. 

"Was this my surprise from earlier today?" Miguel pulled you closer to him by your hips.

"It is. Like it?" You grin up at him.

"Oh, I love it." Miguel lifts you up and gently tosses you on the bed. He quickly takes his clothes off, leaving nothing to the imagination as he climbs on top of you.

He placed a sweet kiss on your lips before making his way down your neck and breasts, giving each nipple its deserved attention with his mouth, down to your stomach before he made it between your legs. You jilted up a soft moan coming out of you when you felt him nip your inner thigh. 

"I love it when your body reacts like that whenever I touch you." He mumbled against your thigh right before his lips met your clit. Your fingers immediately went through his hair as every sensation made you grip his hair and make his mouth work faster. 

You felt the jet's engine as it began moving, further increasing your pleasure. Your core tightened as you felt Miguel's tongue enter inside you. 

Your mind was half in reality, half on a euphoric high. Thighs tighten around his head as you come undone for the second time just from his tongue alone. 

Miguel lifted his body and positioned himself between you. He hovered over you, placing kisses along your neck to your ear and whispering, " I'm so lucky to have such a beautiful woman to call my wife."

Your hands go to his face as you bring his lips to yours, needing to taste him. He licked your lips, wanting to explore your mouth. You gasp as you feel his tongue enter your mouth while he fully thrusts himself into you. 

You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist as he begins his quick and swift pace inside of you.

"Miguel." You cry out as you claw at his back.

"Fuck you feel so good around my cock." Miguel growled as his pace grew faster, making you feel your core tighten again. 

He grabbed your hips and lifted you to his lap, giving him a new angle to fuck you in, making the tip of his cock hit in just the right place repeatedly. You cried out loud as you reached your high again. 

Your hands claw against his back as you have your arms wrapped around his neck as your head falls lazily to the side, letting him mark your neck with love bites. 

Going after your third orgasm, your cunt began to feel overstimulated as he continued to fuck you at the same rough pace. 

"God, it feels so good." You mewled out loud. Miguel leaned forward as he kissed your lips. 

"Only the best for you, Hermosa," He whispered.

Miguel continued to slam into you as his cock twitched, almost at its peak. You moaned out loud as you squeezed around him from your fourth orgasm. The sudden tightness around his cock makes him groan as he spills deep inside you, coating your walls white.

Your upper body lay on his lap in a sweaty state as Miguel continued to thrust inside you, becoming more sloppy as he came down from his sexual high. He kissed your brow, your nose, and then your lips. 

"I love you so much." He mumbled against your lips. He laid you down on the duvet as he laid next to you, brushing your hair away from your face. 

"I love you too, Miggy." You smile lovingly at him as you kiss his chin and lips. "I have another small surprise for you." 

Miguel looked at you with a curious grin, waiting to hear what you had to say. 

"I stopped taking my birth control. I still want to try to have a baby." 

You can tell your words made his day even more amazing. You knew after your miscarriage the thought of having another baby might be a while away. But ever since the miscarriage, the thought of having a baby became stronger with you. 

"You really mean that cariño?" 

You happily nodded with a smile. " I do." 

Miguel placed butterfly kisses all over your face before hovering over you. You look down and an imaginary sweat mark falls down your face as you see him fully erect again. He brought your open legs against him, smiling. 

"Ready for round two?"

———————————————————————-

Hope you enjoyed the chapter🥰

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[sl-ut]

sweet dreams

ended up having a baby dream during my nap and thought it would be a v cute burb concept for my sweet cliches series

set in this universe!

abby noticed that something was wrong with her girlfriend almost immediately after she returned from her morning run. she had, of course, left quite early and had been very careful not to wake her cranky pants gf up, but started questioning what she might have done to piss her off already when they hadn't even truly spoken a word.

y/n was in the kitchen when she got back, mixing herself an iced coffee and barely even responding to abby as she came over to kiss her good morning. abby shrugged it off, thinking she was still too tired, but when she rejected her invite to join her in the shower????? that's when she knew something was up.

she spent fifteen minutes in the shower, taking the extra time under the piping hot water to think it over. she knew it wasn't about her leaving a mess before she left; abby was the neat freak in the relationship, so it was usually her getting annoyed by clutter, not the other way around. they'd been on good terms last night, they had even found time in both of their busy schedules that allowed them some spare time to get it on...was it not good? abby thought she'd seen the telltale signs- the whimpers, the heaving chest, the swelling nail marks on her back... she'd never seen y/n fake it before, so she wasn't sure what she wasn't picking up on. unless... what if she had only ever seen her fake it???

then abby goes into panic mode. she finishes her routine as quick as she can (under ten minutes, our low maintenance queen!) and rushes out to find her girl curled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, not even glancing her at abby as she took up the space next to her.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours? and don't say nothing."

the girl frowned before she stubbornly responded, "nothing."

"did i do something wrong?"

"no."

"then what's the matter? i don't like to see you so down."

"it's stupid."

abby scooted closer, pulling her girl onto her lap, "i could never think that anything to do with you is stupid. please tell me."

"fine, but you have to promise you won't laugh."

abby rolled her pretty blue eyes, "on my own life, i promise i won't laugh."

the girl let out a deep sigh before she mumbled something under her breath.

"gonna need you to speak up for me there, baby."

"i had a dream that i was pregnant and then i had our baby, and we lived in a cute little house with a dog and we were so happy..." she sniffled, "and then i woke up and none of it was real."

abby was silent for a moment before a small smile and chuckle began to crack through her forced serious expression.

"abby!" y/n slapped her arm when she finally broke out in full laughter, "you promised!"

"i'm sorry baby," she held her tighter to her chest to keep her from moving away and began to rock her, "i'm sorry. that was just so cute, if i didn't laugh i was gonna cry."

"i miss our baby."

abby was in her last year of med school, and thanks to her big beautiful brain (and her trust fund), she was remotely debt free. the two had already discussed their plans to start looking for a house in a nice neighbourhood as soon as abby graduated and got a permanent placement somewhere, but the discussion of kids had sort of been sidelined up until now.

the blonde shook her head, "i can't wait to meet our baby. just give me a year, and then we'll start making that dream come true."

y/n beamed with happiness, curling into her girlfriend's beefy arms, "i can't wait to carry your baby."

"trust me," abby chuckled, "i can't wait to put a baby in you. i bet i'll get it to stick first try, but i'm all about consistency. i'm thinking five nights a week minimum."

both girls giggled at abby's joke, snuggling closer together in a peaceful silence before y/n finally spoke up once more.

"abs... you know you can't actually get me pregnant, right? i mean, you're in medical school for god's sake."

[danses-with-dogmeat]

if ur still taking requests, could you do r!companions reacting to when sole introduces them (maybe to like a settler or something) as their husband/wife for the first time :0?

Romanced! FO4 Companions React to Sole Referring to Them as Husband/Wife for the First Time

This is so precious! It makes me wonder what weddings in the wasteland are like 🤔

Anyways, let me know if you wanna see anyone else for this! :)

(also, sorry for being gone for a thousand years, love you guys for sticking around <3)

I hope you love it! 

Cait:

Not much had changed after they'd said their vows.

It was a strange practice in this sort of reality, anyhow. Who in their right mind would be off fiddling with the thought of marriage when most folks were struggling on scraped hands and knees just to get by?

Sole, apparently.

Wouldn't be the first time they'd concerned themselves with something so unimportant and hairbrained in their new reality. Damn pre-war mentality.

But she'd humored them. They didn't do a whole ceremony, didn't have a priest or a cake, or even a dress. No, it was just each other and a few words, a couple of promises that she would never admit had... well, had choked her up, somewhat.

Sole's always been too sentimental for they're own good. And for my own good too, apparently.

Like she'd thought before the 'ceremony,' though, nothin' was all that different after the fact. Traveling together, watching each other's backs, sleepin' at Sole's place on the same shoddy mattress...

She didn't mind that, though. Nothin’ had to change for Cait to know that she was truly happy for the first time that she could remember.

What had shaken her, though, was when they'd met a couple settlers that had recently moved to Sanctuary when they stopped by for a visit. That, too, had been normal. At first.

Preston gave them his usual too-long to-do list, Codsworth told them he'd been keeping the hubflowers in the front yard nice and tidy, Sturges showed off the new paint-job on the power armor Sole had gifted him a while back. When they ran into those new folks, though, when that word 'wife' left her lover's lips, Cait had physically reeled back like she was dodging a blow.

Sole's look after the interaction was full of concern, of uncertainty. It made Cait's chest ache.

"Jus' unused to it, is all." She'd told them as reassuringly as she could manage, her fingers moving over Sole's shoulders to lace together at the base of their neck. "It'll come with time, love."

"Good," They said, their huff of relief only slightly exaggerated. "But if it doesn't, I'm warning you now, I might just have to marry you again."

Cait chuckled at that.

"And next time, I'm not letting you forgo the ceremony."

"No!" Cait groaned playfully.

"Nor the guests, or the dress, and those sappy vows will be read for everyone to hear--"

"Enough, you little shite. Go on, then. Call me wife at the end of ev'ry sentence, jus' don't make me go through all that."

Sole giggled in return, their own hands finding purchase at Cait's hips and pulling her close.

"Though..." The redhead continued, with a mischievous glint in her bright eyes. "I, myself, wouldn't mind a second honeymoon."

Curie:

"Aw, mon cheri! Let me try, let me do it, too!"

Sole's grin was contagious as they motioned for their adorable wife to continue with her… well, unnecessary, (but Sole would never tell her that) introduction.

"Zhis is mon mari/épouse. We are just married, you see?"

The Diamond city bar-goer nodded politely to them, giving Sole an amused look that wasn't caught by the over-excited synth.

"Congratulations, you two look very happy."

Curie squeezed her hand all the tighter around Sole's, and she looked simply fit to burst with joy at the stranger’s words.

"We are. 'Appier zhan I could've dreamed." Her eyes sparkled as she looked fondly to her Sole, “We are so lucky to ‘ave found each other.” 

“It’s true…” Sole echoed, the bargoer all but vanishing from the couple’s attention as they became lost in each other again. 

“Maybe I should just leave you two be, for now. Seems like you’re still in that honeymoon phase, to me.” 

“That's, ah…” Sole’s words dissolved into a chuckle, as Curie turned away with a blush. “That’s also probably true. It was lovely meeting you, though!” 

Their new acquaintance waved a hand as he headed towards the bar once more, shaking his head with a grin as he noticed the way the pair went right back to existing in their own, sweet world. It was refreshing, he thought, to see two people so happy, so in love, in a world like this one. 

Danse:

He’d tried to introduce himself, at the start, to these friends of Sole’s, but… He’d slipped up, as he often does. 

Danse. My name is Danse. Nothing precedes that, I’m… not a Paladin anymore. 

He’d never been without a title before, not since he joined the Brotherhood all those years ago, and his name still felt so naked without it, like it was missing something so integral. As usual, however, Sole had saved him. They’d noticed, even before he did, that he was about to err, and thankfully cut him off beforehand, but then… 

He’d almost forgotten. He didn’t know how he could forget. The day he and Sole vowed to spend the remainder of their lives together had been one of the best of his life, but their past weeks were filled with the rest of the days upon that list… They hadn’t been away from each other’s sides, hadn’t really met anyone new, so it was almost uncanny when he heard the word– the title leave their lips. 

I’ve never been without a title…

Unwittingly, Danse found himself puffing up at the sound of it, much like he had when he was first called ‘Paladin’. He grinned and stood straight and proud, nodding decisively at the sound of the word husband leaving his partner’s lips. His spouse’s lips. 

Danse had never planned for an outcome like this, never thought it would be possible to dedicate the time, energy, emotional attention and knowhow he needed to be involved in a lifelong, committed relationship, but then again, Sole had made many things possible that he’d never known would be in store for him. He couldn’t imagine his life any other way now, even with the severe deviation from his original plan for himself, and though, at first, he felt like the entire situation was drastically more than unideal, he didn’t know how he ever managed to consider himself truly happy without Sole by his side. They filled the immense chasm of hurt that was drilled through him the day he lost his identity, the day he was no longer a part of the cause that he’d dedicated his everything to, but if they were to be taken from him? Gone from his life for one reason or another? He knew not even the Brotherhood could fill the crippling hole they would leave in their wake.

This new title, the new responsibility to be there for his counterpart, through thick and thin, sickness, health, all that the wasteland would throw at them, and everything in between, as far as Danse was concerned, it was the most worthwhile endeavor he’d ever taken on, and he knew he would do everything in his power to never let them down. No matter what it took, he’d strive to be worthy of that title bestowed upon him by the one he loves and respects more than any other.

Deacon:

Deacon didn’t think he’d ever be back here again… Not that he wasn’t absolutely thrilled to be Sole’s partner, their spouse, but… did he really deserve that title? He sure as hell didn’t the first time, and now, though he’s definitely less of a bigot, he still can’t wrap his head around the idea of Sole being happy with him, wanting him. As their husband. 

Shit… 

He’d have to say something at some point, have to respond, have to smile and nod and shake hands and allow himself to be introduced like this...

Yikes. 

It was a familiar feeling, but in a horrible, anxiety-inducing sort of way. He didn’t want anything more than he wanted to be Sole’s husband, he’d been the one to propose after all, but introducing him like this? Was that safe? Was it necessary? 

The spy bit his lip, his body visibly stiffening up at the words leaving Sole’s lips, but the worst part? The worst part was that jump in his gut at the sound of it. At first he thought it was the discomfort, with a healthy sprinkling of fear and just a pinch of panic, but it wasn’t the cold shock that those emotions tended to elicit, no, this was sort of… warm? An excited sort of anxiousness, an enthusiastic leap within himself, not the uncomfortable churn he’d been expecting. 

Maybe I can be used to this again. Like the first time.

Despite himself, despite the momentary thousand-yard stare accompanied by a half-open mouth, Deacon recovered rather rapidly, and even found himself smiling. His eyes crinkled up beneath his iconic shades and he turned to look over to his love, his spouse, and his teeth broke through the threshold of his lips into a broad grin. 

“Whew, could get used to that.” He whispered with a wink and Sole had to bite their lips to keep from smiling too big. 

Goddamn, I don’t deserve them.

“Well, you heard the boss. Sole’s husband. Yeah… Pleased to meet and shake.” 

But shit… I really could get used to this again. That much is true. 

Hancock:

“Fuck, sunshine, say it again for me, will ya?” 

Hancock immediately turned to face them at the sound of it, their hand in his proving not to be nearly enough contact to sate his need for his new spouse. He separated their fingers as that glorious title of his left their lips once more, as their mischievous eyes met his, opting to instead wrap both of his wiry arms around them, pulling his partner close while completely disregarding the traveling merchant in front of them. They’d get back to their purchase in a moment, but first… Hancock leaned forward, pressing his lips to his partner’s with a fervor that rivaled that of their kiss upon the altar. 

How can anyone expect me to hold back when they’re lookin’ at me like that? When they call me their ‘husband.’ 

The ghoul felt himself shudder, a grin spreading from his lips, infecting theirs in turn as he finally managed to pull away. 

“Mmm, yeah, damn straight.” 

Who would’ve ever thought? 

The esteemed bachelor, infamous junkie, proclaimer of every kinda freedom, and the Mayor of the city of sin and mirth… Married. And he couldn’t be more proud of it, more overjoyed at the prospect of spending his life with the one he loves, dedicating himself to one person. Sure, he never thought he’d see the day. But that didn’t change a damn thing. 

“Yeah, Sole’s husband speaking here. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

MacCready:

Maybe he should feel guilty, maybe the sound should make him sad, should douse him in memories of his past, in a future that he’d hoped for, but never came to be. A future with another person, another possibility for his life… But when Sole called him their husband for the first time, in front of all these people at the bar, still dressed in their glorious, dare he say sexy, wedding clothes… God, the ex-merc couldn’t quit grinning. 

It felt… strange, sure, to be called husband again, but damn, it felt good, too. It was a reminder that he still could be happy, it was proof that there are second chances, even in a world as cruel as this one. Even for both of them, who came from broken homes, from pasts filled with loss and hardship, from such different upbringings, there was still hope. 

And so, he smiled. And he let himself smile. 

He’d dealt with the guilt already, since the moment he felt affection for his partner rising to the surface. From that first awkward kiss, their strangely sad first time together, to his first terrifying declaration of his love, he’d felt that guilt simmering under the surface, waiting to boil over and burn him from the inside out, make him hurt all over again, make moving on impossible, but… Even though it had always been there, it’s grown… weaker. Sole’s reciprocation, their affirmation, their shared feelings of wrongfulness that linger behind every touch, every feeling of fondness, of love… The two of them were two sides of the same damn coin, broken pieces that, by some miracle, could fit together to make each other whole. 

That, and he knew what Lucy and Nate/Nora would want. Their late spouses loved them both, and they would want them both to be happy now, not wallow away their days alone in grief and guilt. 

And now, MacCready could smile. And damn, did he do so. It was embarrassingly toothy, it scrunched his eyes and brought tears to them. He’d cried when he saw them at the wedding, and his eyes have hardly been dry since the ceremony earlier that day, and even as the pair collected their drinks from the bar top, he couldn’t keep his eyes off his partner. His spouse. 

It was strange to feel like this again, to be back in this situation, back to this point in life, just with another person, but if it was with Sole, MacCready could truly be happy again, if it was with them… he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Nick:

It was so difficult to look away, to stop the smile from spreading too far across his synthetic lips, to pull his hand away from Sole’s in order to greet this stranger, to act as though it were normal for them to refer to him in that way. It shouldn’t be strange, with how long they’ve been together, how long they’ve been itching to use those titles for one another, but it still sent a shock through him. The warmness spread through his chest in such a way he didn’t know was even possible. Nothing could have ruined the moment that that word left his incredible partner’s lips, not even the way the stranger’s eyes were widened, their mouth drawn to a thin line in surprise and just a hint of revulsion. Nick couldn’t care less. 

Keeping his good hand firmly clasped with Sole’s, he extended his skeletal one out for them to consider, finally forcing himself to look away from Sole’s sweet, glowing expression to meet the other’s judgemental gaze. If he’d cared even in the slightest, he might’ve snorted and made some remark, but this didn’t matter at all. The approval of some schmuck in the wilds of the Commonwealth wasn’t even remotely something Nick desired, and there was no way in hell he’d let something like this ruin even a fraction of his elation at finally becoming Sole’s husband. 

“Good to meet ya.” He said with an insultingly broad grin as their eyes locked to his metal hand, their own making no move to embrace his in the customary greeting.

“Usually it’s polite," Nick began, with just a hint of salt, "When someone extends a hand, to shake it.”

That seemed to pull the stranger from their thoughts, and tentatively, they reached out and gave a small shake before quickly pulling away. 

“There we go, that’s it.” Nick let his skeletal hand fall back to his side and felt Sole give his other a tight squeeze in comfort. “And just in case you didn’t catch it, it’s Nick. Valentine. Detective extraordinaire, and Sole’s husband.” 

A sweet sound met his ears as Sole chuckled beside him, their grin scrunching their eyes as they gave their husband that look, the one that said it all, the one he’d never grow tired of seeing. The amusement at his words, and that genuine affection for him behind it all, god, it’s what Nick lived for.

Piper:

“Aw, Blue! It sounds so good when you say it!” The reporter’s eyes lit up as Sole introduced her to the bartender, and her hand squeezed their arm all the tighter. She’s been waiting, what seems like forever, to hear those words leave her partner’s lips. Now, it was even better than she’d imagined. She gazed lovingly in Sole’s direction, as they patiently waited for her to turn her attention to the man across the counter.

“Right! Hi, yes, yeah. I’m their wife. Nice to meet you.” She grinned at the man as a look of good-humored exasperation passed over his features. At his response’s lack of enthusiasm, Piper leaned forward, nearly separating her arm from Sole’s, and brought her free hand to the side of her mouth, whispering to him nearly loud enough for the entire room to hear.

“We just got married.”

“I couldn’t have guessed.” He said, deadpan, with the slightest indication of a grin crinkling his eyes. 

“Here’s your key, you two. Enjoy.” 

Sole thanked the man as Piper enthusiastically hauled them towards the stairs up to their rented room. They followed along behind the giggling reporter, their grin rivaling her own as the pair stumbled up the wooden steps excitedly. With Piper, it certainly was bound to be an eventful honeymoon. But Sole already knew that when they married her, and who were they kidding? They wouldn't have it any other way.

Preston:

Preston just cannot quit staring. He hardly even hears what the other minutemen are saying to him and his new spouse, still their General and Lieutenant. It was rather uncharacteristic of him to be paying so little attention, but how can he help it? It was their wedding day, and Sole looked more incredible than he’d ever seen them, which was saying a whole hell of a lot for his near-perfect partner; not to mention the way they’d practically ordered him to refrain from thinking of work for the whole day. 

He’d thought it would be harder to do so, his overzealous work ethic being the brunt of many a joke amongst the other minutemen and Sole’s many friends, and yet… Today, Preston finds it much easier than ever before to focus on nothing but them. 

Sole. In all their perfect glory, standing by his side, fingers locked between his, a persistent and glorious grin spread across their lips as they greeted the many guests that attended the ceremony. 

As an unfamiliar couple approached the pair, Preston still remained utterly entranced by his love, their polite voice, the way the soft glow of the slowly setting sun highlighted every perfect feature, the feel of their hand in his, their shoulder pressing comfortingly against his own. 

When their introduction leaves Sole's lips, he’s pulled back to reality. 

‘My husband,’ they’d said. That’s… That’s me. 

Preston blinked as his cheeks swelled from the pressure of his humongous grin. 

I will never get tired of that. He decided in less than an instant. In fact, as the night goes on, into the next few weeks of their early marriage, and all the years after, he tries to refer to them by their own spously title as often as is appropriate, and glows with pride and appreciation each time they do the same.

X6-88:

It wasn't proper, but for once in the courser's life, he couldn't be bothered to care.

Sole was his Director, and if anyone in the Institute took issue with their word, with their choices when it came to their own personal life, they could bring it up to him. He'd love to see how that plays out.

For now though, X6 allowed himself the unusual pleasure of being unbothered by it. Dr. Ayo could look as appalled as he wanted, Dr. Volkert could keep blushing with barely-checked rage up to his ear tips, and the rest of X6’s fellow coursers could continue with their stony glares.

Though he wouldn't admit it, X6 actually withheld a crooked grin at the way some of the synths looked at him with such awe. He felt their glares, heard their whispers, saw the ways their fists clenched, but it was peripheral at best. Sole took center stage of his attentions on this day, and the intensity of a courser's attention was unmatched.

He felt their hand brushing his arm, his shoulder, his waist, he heard their voice say his name, introduce him with that hefty title he never once would've considered for himself if not for them, and he saw their face, their infectious grin. If they were aware of the animosity in the air surrounding them, Sole gave no indication.

And nor should they.

They had nothing to be ashamed of. One day, in the not-too-distant past, he might not have held that same opinion. Today though, he couldn't fathom 'shame,' and 'Sole' existing on the same plane. He was lucky to have them. Being with them was a greater honor and opportunity than the synth could have previously imagined possible for himself. He only hoped, in such an earnest, sentimental way that it felt as though he'd left his own body, that they felt similar sentiments at being with him.

If their expression, their words, their sincere vows were anything to go off of though, X6 would say that his hope was well-founded.