#CONNIE SERIES WHEN???? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luminiamore · 3 days

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plug connie springer x black stripper reader

warnings: boy is down bad, a little bit of mikasa x reader??, mikasa is famous heree, connie is a tease, he’s also hispanic asf, ya’ll didn’t even make it to the club, hints of yandere, mirror action, he fucks u while he’s crossfaded, wall sex, he talks a lot, dude is rambling, good ole cream pie, gotta love breeding

a/n: i got carried away (⌒_⌒;)

can you guys tell i like my men desperate lol, this is so long i might make this a series (4.9k words)

one down, like five more to goooo

The lifestyle of stripping was something you truly couldn’t get enough of. The late nights. The smooth poles. Dancing on those smooth poles. And most importantly, the money. Oh fuck, how you loved the money. Living the fast life gave you such a rush that you adored it just as much as you hated it.

It’s not your first choice, not by a long shot. You were raised in Jamaica, New York. And your parents., you loved them. Honestly, you did, but you would probably be the most miserable person in the world if you kept heeding their strict Christian views.

You tried everything to reach up to their impossibly high standards. They wanted you to get an A in every assignment? Try A+. They wanted you to wear less revealing clothes because ‘No man will ever want you’? You’re showing up to your classes in turtlenecks just to keep their mouths shut.

You even made it a routine to clean the entire house top to bottom on Sundays since they started complaining that ‘You never do anything around this house.’ It was beyond annoying. You were fucking tired.

Growing up in Notre Dame School of Manhattan was nothing short of horrible. Proclaimed ‘good girls’ snorting more than half a line of coke in the school bathrooms. Drugs you aren’t even sure how they got access to, but then again, they are rich white kids. Teachers and hypocritical professors pretend to be oblivious to the bullshit drama their students are in. Your parents’ oblivion for keeping you here is even greater. Even after sharing stories with them, they would advise you to be more like the students at your school.

It was a miracle you didn’t turn out that far gone, despite what your profession is currently. You’ve smoked a little weed here and there. Experience some sort of awakening tripping off shrooms the weekend your parents took a trip to Barbados.

Without you, of course. Despite this, you were always taken care of. Your differences in opinion would never justify their abandonment of you. You knew they loved you when they got you a ticket to see The Weeknd live after you got a perfect score on your final, not after telling you their opinions on the matter, of course.

‘I don’t know why you listen to such devil music.’

‘I should’ve never gotten you this trash.’

The guilt you felt for wanting to have fun kept you from almost going. You went anyway, choosing to avoid allowing their misery to affect you.

Everything was fine; you played along with this draining game, and everything was fine. Until they decided to kick you out for finding a small baggie of blow (that wasn’t even yours) peeking out from the top of your purse. You don’t even know how it got there.

Honestly, you didn’t. You tried to communicate that while they were packing all the clothes they could find in your closet into two medium-sized luggage bags. But they wouldn’t listen, opting for screaming so loud you could see the neighbors peeking through the window. At the very least, they were kind enough not to throw them onto the concrete ground. Their stubbornness was unyielding. You just couldn’t get through to them.

You were able to rent an apartment you had put a deposit on a month before this happened because of the money in your savings account. Unfortunately, your funds were only sufficient for rent for two months due to groceries and other necessities.

When graduation came, your parents were nowhere to be found, so you realized that you had to find a means of earning money before you ended up sleeping on the streets.

You tried looking for a ’regular’ job -- a barista, a waitress, even applied to be a fucking bartender. It’s not as easy as it seems when those who already have one talk about finding a job. Why do they claim that they need to hire immediately and yet still reject you? Considering that your lack of work experience prevents you from being hired, you feign a little on your resume. Turns out, you’re not a very good liar.

Where was pretty privilege when you needed it?!

Despite applying to 500 companies, none could offer you a job within the next two weeks, which happened to be when your rent was due.

You really had no other option. You took your pretty ass and marched to the nearest club. Which happened to be the... Hustlers club? Why did that sound familiar?

Upon entering, you outright demanded to speak with the person in charge, and when you saw him, he demanded that he offer you a job. Lucky for you, the owner happened to be there that day. He observed the little moment you had when you stormed in..well, he observed the way your tits bounced in your low-cut tee and immediately pulled you into his office.

He had the thought that you would make him a lot of money if you worked for him, and he’s sure his business partner would agree if she saw you. He just had to make sure.

A figure appeared in the corner, striking up from the edge of his desk and making a slight sniffling noise. A girl, a beautiful one with distinct Asian features. Her leather skirt was short, only barely covering past 2 inches of her thigh. Her tits were pushed up to a necklace in a black corset-like top. An ornamental gold necklace.. with the letter M.

Wait. Is that-

That’s where it dawned on you why the name of this club sounded so familiar. On a random Tuesday afternoon, you find yourself standing in front of a celebrity. You were standing in front of Mikasa Ackerman. The Mikasa Ackerman. As in, owner of Mirror Palais, the highest-paid model in Japan, co-owner of one of the best clubs in New York, Mikasa Ackerman. Oh shit.

You remember seeing her on an Instagram reel in front of this very club, along with the other owner. The other owner, his name was.. what was it again? He swivels you around to face him, almost as if he hears your thoughts,

“Eren Yeager, sweetheart.”

A soft handshake accompanied by a gentle tone. He was quick to introduce you to the beautiful eyes that stayed fixed on your face since you walked into the dimly lit room. Eren guides you towards the brown leather couch where his friend is sitting,

“And, this is the lovely Mikasa. I’m sure you sure you know who she is.”

Feeling intimidated by her intense gaze, you nodded quickly and stumbled a bit when introducing yourself. Her following words didn’t calm your nerves anyhow,

“A real pleasure meeting you, beautiful.”

Eren could tell that Mikasa already liked you; the girl was practically fucking you with her eyes. But he wasn’t here for that; he cleared his throat to draw attention to him in the room. He had a goal in mind: to get you signed up. Eren wanted you dancing in his club today.

He sits you down and swiftly gets into business mode.

‘What kind of position are you looking for?’

‘What’s the minimum salary you want to earn here?’

He tries to get a sense of what you’re looking for before proposing to work as a stripper. Although he wants you to, he can compromise. Server position and the minimum salary you asked for was $65,000.

“And I’m not leaving til I get that or something better.”

Well, you wanted better, right? Eren explains to you that his club didn’t have any more waitress positions and Mikasa...

Well, that day, you found out that she was really good with words. She did a great job at convincing you that you’d make double the amount you asked for moving your perfect body on the pole. I mean...

“Look at that body of yours. You’d be pretty famous here, sweetheart.”

And shit, she was right. You really couldn’t blame the girls who never wanted to leave, simply too addicted to the drugs, to the fast life, especially to the money. The amount of money you made every night was simply insurmountable. And you found it funny because it wasn’t just the money. Really, it wasn’t.

The sensation that occurs when your lower body rotates on the pole. The art of dancing like this ignited such a passion from you. The attention, from the men and the women. One of the most popular clubs in the city had you as a crowd favorite. You knew it shouldn’t be something you liked; you never wanted to get too wrapped up in a life like this. But shit, it was sensational.

You didn’t let it slip, even though you shined on the stage. There are people who would take advantage of you even more if they knew you actually enjoyed what you do; you know this. When it was time to go, you left with no hesitation. You had to remind yourself of what you were here for, to provide and care for yourself until you find a better job.

And you stuck to that goal for a solid five months; nothing deterred you. Of course, that’s what you’re thinking. In reality, from the very first moment Eren had you on that pole, you found yourself coming back for one reason. Even if you weren’t subconsciously aware of it, him.

Connie, you heard the owner greet one day. He was definitely attractive. There was something about him, something about how he threw money at you and only you. Your body shivered without fail due to the gray eyes that watched your every move. The way he man spreads and tilts his head back when taking a hit, revealing neck tattoos that you know cover his stomach under that black Nike Tech hoodie. He was so fucking fine.

Only a few men can pull off a buzz cut. How does he do it so effortlessly? Maybe it was the color? How would he change it like it was nothing every two weeks?

You noticed he had a thin mustache, and when you got closer to his face.. Fuck. Was that a diamond nose ring?

He was a drug dealer. You caught that three months ago. Around that point, he began asking for you to exclusively serve his section. Eren had no problem with that; after all, this was his friend. But Connie started getting.. greedy. He wanted more than that. He started getting bold. He wanted your body on that twirling solely for him.

“Hell no.”

Eren filled the quiet section. Your body was followed by both green and gray eyes as you moved on the stage, with Connie’s eyes being more intense and focused compared to the other. The thriving club was filled with both of them enjoying a glass of Richard Hennessy Cognac in the VIP area.

Connie never had a good relationship with mixing Henny and weed. He was aware of that. He has a tendency to indulge in sinful thoughts. He didn’t let that stop him from rolling the blunt anyway.

His mind would get drawn towards dangerous places, mainly when he saw you. The way your thong disappeared between your cheeks under your lacey two-piece made him ready to fuck you right there. To show those perverted and prickly eyes that stuck like glue onto you that they could never have you. That you were his. Or, you will be.

Connie hasn’t even fucked you yet. Hasn’t gone anywhere near the sticky wetness he knows you have in between your legs.

You two indulge in what you could only describe as subtle grinding in the back rooms. All the dancing that you’re supposed to be doing on the pole, you’re doing on his lap instead. It was against the rules; you especially knew this. That didn’t stop either of you. Well, more so Connie than you.

At first, his best friend was against it. The customers you brought in were earning him at least $100k a night. While his other show girls were beautiful, you radiated a different type of aura onto the stage. You were something different. It was genuinely insane how you could move, you didn’t even have prior training. You found that every night, you got better than the previous; it was a natural talent.

Connie, being Connie, offered Eren twice that amount for every night he gets to spend with you alone. That was every night you were on the clock, besides, he had no problem making that back by the next day. When it came to his girl, there was never a problem for him.

And Connie never regretted the amount he spent on you. Being alone with you was something he had grown to crave incessantly. To him? It was worth it. He’d get so excited to just walk into the back room and find you waiting for him. All pretty, just tempting him to ruin you. Then, when you start performing in front of him, your body moves in a way that would hypnotize the stoic man.

And it wasn’t just your body to Connie. There was a certain allure to you. He was observant of the way you moved, spoke, and behaved. He understood that someone like you doesn’t come by every day. He just had to have you, own you. Your body, your fucking soul, everything you possessed, he wanted it for himself. He didn’t care if it sounded selfish; he’s okay with being that when it comes to you.

It’s reasonable to assume that he would have the final say on what you wear for him since he was the only person you would dance for, right? That was the route he took to get your number. That’s the reason you got a text from him while you were getting ready to shower for your night shift.

One of his friends- Was he talking about Mikasa?

You could have given it more thought, but your shift was only an hour away, and Connie was on his way. Using a small gray towel, you drape it onto the fat of your wet boobs. Your hands lather your Shea Butter oil on the top of your left thigh quickly, but you stop when your doorbell rings.

“Coming!”

You yelp, quickly slip on your slippers, and move toward the door. The man had always taken you home, and on the other side of the coin, he always took you to work. You didn’t bother asking how he knew your address the first time, afraid that it would spark an answer you’re not ready to hear. Occasionally, if you were too intoxicated to carry yourself to your apartment, he would act as your knight in shining armor and hold you in bridal fashion to your door without saying a word.

It should have been simple enough: he goes in and gets out. And it would have been that simple if he hadn’t seen your pink lacy thong loosely hanging off your door knob. He was simply a man, one who desired to feel every part of you. The tip of that thong was hanging out of his pockets when Connie left your apartment that night.

Swinging your door open makes you almost breathless. Connie was a tall person. Everything about him just screamed: big. He was easily over 6 feet 2 inches tall, and he came to your door carrying a medium-sized shopping bag. You step back, observing as he comes in right after taking his slides off by your door.

“You’re here early, Con. I’m not ready yet.” You whisper, still a little perplexed he’s already here. Despite the amount of money you know he has, you rarely ever see him in anything other than a white tee and black sweats. Today was no different. Minor differences in each pair made it clear that they were different every time. You suppose it had something to do with his dangerous line of work.

He hands you the cream-colored bag, and his eyes never leave your lips all the while. You suddenly became very conscious that you were breathing the same air as Connie, who appeared right in front of you. He leans in, the ghost of his lips felt against your collarbone,

“You smell good,” His tatted hands sneakily climbed their way onto your wide hips. Before muttering a curse under his breath, he squeezes once. For the first time since meeting you, Connie isn’t being truthful. He didn’t come to your apartment to take you to your job. Tonight, he had different intentions.

He came tonight to put a full stop to the cat-and-mouse game that you guys have been playing for the past five months. Two fully packed blunts and three shots of Don Julio convinced him that his attraction towards you was not going away.

He should’ve realized it when he started making a habit of watching over you outside of the strip club. She needs someone to protect her, he thinks. You don’t pay attention to your surroundings. You have no idea, don’t you? Your beauty could easily lead to someone from the club becoming obsessed and following you. Anyone who wasn’t him.

He also should’ve realized it when he started beating his dick into overstimulation to your pictures on Instagram. And after your shift. Of course, before your shift. Eren witnessed him having to excuse himself during your shift because his dick was painfully throbbing against his boxers.

Connie really liked you. And somewhere in that twisted mind of his, he believed that you two were truly meant for each other. He should’ve never waited this long, “Put this on, ma.”

He pushes the bag towards your chest and moves your hips in the direction of your room. Your thighs twitch as you hum and make a little run to the end of your hall. He follows after you slowly, eyes shifting to the way your ass peaks out from under the towel.

This scene feels oddly familiar. A predator stalking its prey, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You didn’t know what Connie came here to do; in your mind, you were just getting ready for work. He almost felt sorry for you, almost felt sorry for how he was going to ruin you, almost.

He made sure to take his time approaching your door so that you could be ready and prepared for him when he arrived. And you didn’t disappoint. In front of your vanity makeup mirror, you were sat on the cushion chair. Applying what looked like oil from a flower bottle onto your neck.

You look better in the dress than he expected. Your fat tits sitting so perfectly, and the lace meshing with your skin. You pretended to ignore him behind your seat, starting to feel the weight of his presence around you. This was probably the thinnest item you had ever owned, yet his hands pressing on your shoulders made your skin feel like it was on hot volcanic soil.

You catch his eye in the mirror, and despite your flustered state, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of looking away. Not even while his hands lower down to your rib cage, right under your plush boobs. Especially not even while his giant palms wrap around the fabric covering your nipple in a tight grip.

You gasp, a moan bottling in your throat, “C-Con!”

It could have been the way you uttered his name or the way your head pressed against his chest. Regardless, Connie lost control and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, beginning to sprinkle small, wet kisses. He grips harder, and you... you get louder.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Your flesh is now exposed to his hands as they slip into the dress. “Skin so soft,” He kneads his hands into your chest, squeezing as if he’s hoping milk will pour out of them. He groans, “God, you’re so perfect mama.” The thought of that makes a shiver run down his body.

Poor Mikasa, she spent all night working on that dress once she heard it was for you. Connie didn’t even let it last for a good ten minutes before you heard a faint rip sound in the midst of your whimpers.

Your brain is struggling to keep up with the speed of everything happening. You attempt to tilt your head back, but he shuts it down right away. “Eyes on the mirror.” He moves one hand to your throat, keeping you still. You feel your body shake under his hold, twitching slightly from his small attack. You didn’t have the courage to look away, not even as far as you could.

“I’ve been so patient.” Squeezing your left nipple, he drops his fingers down the ripped material until they reach the top of your pussy lips. “Cumming to the thought of your pretty face like a fucking teenager,” His words bring a mewl to your lips. Your body starts sweating, nervous at the way his fingers are just rubbing circles around your skin.

Would he pull away if your hips jerked against his hand? You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t. You’ve never allowed yourself to feel this desperate for anyone, but being around Connie left you like this. You were at a loss for what to do. Your thoughts were racing to find something, anything, that would bring him closer to you.

It’s unclear what motivated him to answer your prayers. But in the next moment, he pushed his middle finger into the center of where your slick was overflowing onto the cushion. He creates slight tap sounds with the puddle between your fat lips, playing with you.

Your eyes close for just a second and burst wide open when you feel a sudden intrusion in your sticky hole. “A-Ah!” A sob leaves your lips, your eyes falling back to your face in the mirror when you register his next words,

“Eyes on the mirror, mama. I haven’t done anything to you yet,” As Connie slowly moves his fingers into and out of your dripping core, his eyes struggle to keep track of your face in the mirror or the stain you’re beginning to make on his digits.

He settles with the stain you’re creating. He’s massaging your walls in a way that you can’t help but cover them in a creamy white. It’s impossible not to moan with shaky breaths, whispering his name. He figures the wait was worth it. His dreams couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing. It was more noisy, was more sticky, and it was.. real.

What do you taste like?

Your hips shake as he suddenly removes his fingers from you. You whimper, annoyed by the absence of the touch of fingers on your wet walls, but you stop yourself when you see his movements in the mirror. His mouth wraps around his middle and ring finger, sucking your juices to the fullest. Your breathing stops when he moans, “You taste so fucking good.”

Connie silently pulls you up from your seat and presses you against the nearest wall, causing the ripped dress to fall to the floor. Instantly, your back arched into the prominent bulge that was pressing on your bare ass. Your thoughts wander back to your last session with Connie in the backroom. All that desperate grinding.

“You were squeezing so tight around my fingers,” He pushes his sweat down to remove his throbbing hard dick with a little effort. “Y’gonna squeeze my dick like that next?”

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

You jump every time the base of his cock slaps down on your ass. Both of his hands grip your sides, his eyes rolling back as he slides his dick back and forth in between your leaking pussy lips.

“Oh f-fuck! Connie,”

Your voice cracks when you call out for him, and he smiles. He cannot deny that this is the perfect thing; it was always meant to be like this. He spreads your cheeks as wide as he can, lining his tip up to your hole that’s clenching around nothing.

“Yeah, b-baby?” Fuck, you were so wet. “Want me to fuck you? Want- Oh fuck. Want Connie to make you scream?”

Your lips tremble, and you try to slide his dick inside you by pushing your hips back. He lets you, too weak himself, to stop you from taking what you wanted. All you can think right now is Connie, Connie, fucking Connie.

“Shittt. Want y-y’to to make me cum! P-please!”

Pushing him even further inside without his help proves to him that you truly want him to make you scream. You’re barely making it halfway with his thick and long build. Connie is incredibly proud of you right now, taking his dick like a desperate bitch and moaning to fuck the rest of his inches in.

He pulls a little of himself out of you, only to flush his hips abruptly against yours with one single push. Groaning at the same time you gasp out, he whispers in your ear, “Scream for daddy, mama.”

You were so full. His cock tip was touching places that you’ve never been to on your own before, causing your mind to go haywire. His pressure against your cervix was so intense it would have been painful if you weren’t so wet. You oblige almost embarrassingly quickly the moment you feel his dick drag at a steady pace inside of you.

Connie regrets not having done this sooner, as the drugs he took earlier are still mixing in his system, alternating and speeding up his thoughts. His body was ablaze. You’re covering the entire length of his dick with your juices, causing him to become frantic and desperate to get more out of you. His thrusts match his crave. You were warm, and your cries were heaven to his ears, “Big! Y’re so b-big, daddy!”

You’re not complaining, far from it, as he tears your pussy to shreds. In fact, you’re taking him so well, and he praises you for it. Like he said, you were made for this moment, for him. You’re such a,

“Good girl. Fuck! My g-good girl takes me so well,”

He can hear your slick drip on the floor below you despite the smacking sound in your room. You’re so needy for him, as he is for you. The walls echoed with your wailing sounds as you fucked him back, making Connie shudder.

He’s gonna cum. He can feel his balls churning as they slap repeatedly against your twitching clit. Fuck. He’s gonna cum so deep inside you he prays it reaches your womb. Although it’s his first time exploring the depths of your perfect cunt, he recognizes that you’re also going to cum.

He can tell by the way your legs are shaking rapidly, by the way, your moans get higher in pitch, by the way, you’re whispering his name out like a prayer. And he’s determined to make you cum before him. Do you squirt? Do you cream? He thinks he’ll die and go to heaven if it’s both. Your next plea erupts another groan to tumble out his mouth,

“M’gonna- M’gonna cum! O-oh fuck- M’gonna cum so h-hard.”

Holding your arms behind your back with his tatted hand, he moves his hips inside you at a faster pace than ever before. “Shit. Me t-too, mama.” He angles his waist to keep pressing into that spongy spot that makes you tremble. “Just like that. Cum, baby. C-cum all over this fat dick.”

Small tears start to fall down your brown cheeks, and your back arches sharply on Connie, causing your stomach to clench at once. The man above you receives both your cream and squirt splashing from your sweet core, and you weep. Your muffled moans fill the air as he cranes your neck towards him for a nasty, drooling kiss.

As he gets closer to his orgasm, his rapid thrusts become sloppy and crazed, and his heart beats twice as fast as he sees the beauty fucked out underneath him. The more Connie moved inside of you, the more he swayed. Your essence was covering his lower half so much that he couldn’t wait another minute before dumping his kids against your cervix, a shaky moan accompanying his release.

His thrusts slow down, causing tiny drops to spill onto the floor, but his lips never leave yours, and he has to remind himself to let you breathe when you start to whine against his mouth. He lets you go and instead presses tiny kisses against your panting mouth.

Both of you, Connie in particular, were on cloud nine. Your clenching onto him brings Connie’s mind back to Earth, but he is not satisfied. He wanted to go again. He needed it, so it was only natural he started moving at a steadfast pace inside you again.

“Again. Let’s go a-again, mama. Shitt. Your pussy is so-”

Before that night, you’ve never experienced pleasure on this level. Connie took you, on every corner of the house. Both of you left unaware of Eren’s multiple missed calls as he fucked his cum into you like a dog in heat. It’s safe to say that you didn’t show up for work that night or the night after. Connie made sure you never danced at a strip club again.

@hatake05 @thickbihhwitdagapp 🫶🏾

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 9 months

Note

Conrad and reader are seeing each other in secret but everyone knows because they’re shit at hiding it

Requests: for conrad x reader, they're in a secret relationship (maybe reader stays in the summer house with everyone) and they get caught?

Could you do a sex with conrad fisher fic?

Warnings: smut, p + v,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You and Conrad were not as slick sneaking around as you thought you were. Three weeks into summer and everyone already knew you were hooking up. The smell of your perfume lingered in Conrad's jeep in the morning and Jeremiah swore he saw a bra in his brother's bedroom when Susannah asked to get his laundry basket for the cleaning lady.

What confirmed that Conrad was seeing someone was that Steven’s bedroom was right next to Conrad’s and he could hear the headboard hit the wall on some nights. He even heard some girl moans, which he quickly downed by putting his headphones on. Conrad was his friend, but he didn’t want to hear him pleasure a girl. That was just too much.

You were fisting the bedsheets with your hands, biting down your bottom lip to try to stifle your moans at every snap of Conrad’s hips. It was past 11pm and everyone was asleep so you had to be quiet. Susannah was cool, but she wouldn't like her son sneaking a girl in at night to have sex. Even if he was eighteen.

Your back arched up off the bed for him, buried so deep inside you. Sweat was sticking to his chest and his hands had found purchase on your thighs, keeping them open while he pounded into you.

‘’Ahh, don’t stop, Connie. I’m close,’’ you whispered in the dim-lit room, feeling your orgasm hurtling toward you. It was so hard to keep quiet and control yourself when all you wanted to do was scream Conrad’s name.

He nodded, one hand leaving your thigh and crawling where your bodies met to start rubbing against your clit while looking at you like you’re the only important thing in the world. Conrad might be portrayed as cold hearted, but with you, he was always warm and sweet — unless you didn’t want him to.

When it all became too much, you clenched around him one last time, your toes curling and legs shaking as you came all over his cock, a series of quietest moans slipping from your mouth. Conrad climaxed shortly after you, spilling into the condom with a swallowed groan. He ran a hand through his messy hair, then pulled out and threw the used condom in the trash before coming back at your side.

He seemed lost in his world for a few seconds, his face resting over your breasts as you scratched his back, waiting for him to come down from his high and catch your breaths. Conrad's post-sex affectionate nature was truly endearing; it was unexpected, yet incredibly sweet and vulnerable.

As much as you cherished the moment, the reality of the outside world nudged you back to your senses, forcing you to detach yourself from Conrad. ‘’Sorry, but I really need to pee.’’

He groaned in protest, disappointedly letting you go.

You put your panties back on and Conrad lifted his head from the bed, looking at you with a mix of longing and tiredness. ‘’You’re coming back, right?’’ he asked, seeking reassurance.

You nodded, offering a reassuring smile, as you slipped one of his shirts on before quietly leaving the room.

As you emerged from the bathroom, you hadn't expected anyone else to be awake at this hour, but to your surprise, you almost walked right into a sleepy-faced Jeremiah in plaid pajama pants.

‘’Jeremiah. Hi,’’ you greeted him, trying not to look flustered.

A smirk drew on his mouth, confirming his assumption. ‘’Hi,’’ he responded, seemingly amused by the situation. His smirk widened as he leaned against the hallway wall, his eyes playfully glancing over your disheveled appearance. ‘’So, I guess Conrad's having a good time?’’ Jeremiah teased, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

You tried to maintain your composure, but the embarrassment was evident on your cheeks. ‘’Eh…I should probably get back to…’’ you trailed, glancing towards Conrad's room.

Jeremiah nodded again, his smile softening. ‘’Mmh. Good night, Y/N.’’

‘’Good night, Jere.’’

When you returned to Conrad’s room, he was still on his bed, except he had moved under his comforter and blanket, nestled like a child. The sight made you want to crawl under and fall asleep beside him.

You shut the door and Conrad looked up when seeing you. You shifted on your feet, a little nervous, about to tell him something you didn’t know how he would react to. ‘’I just saw your brother. He knows.’’

—

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#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine

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picturejasper20 · 6 months

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Steven Universe as a character is someone who has been mischaracterized and flanderized over the years, to the point people who aren't into the fandom or haven't watched the show believe that mischaracterization to be a fact rather that a product that comes from memes and jokes

The truth is that Steven often fights in the series when it is needed, usually by fusing with someone else like Connie or Amethyst since he is still developing his powers in the original series. He doesn't cry when he has to fight back or defend himself, with exception if the person attacking is someone he considers a friend. Because, yes, for a 14-15 old teenager it isn't fun having to do something like that and it can be traumatic.

He also doesn't start to cry the moment someone refuses to change their mind or is being mean. He often isn't afraid to be sarcastic or call that person out. He didn't cry when Aquamarine mocked him in ¨Stuck Together¨ nor when Jasper didn't apologize for poofing Amethyst in ¨Crack the Whip¨

However, what we see is sometimes him blaming himself for not being able to help people that, more often than not, have been hurt by Rose Quartz, his mother, in some way. After Season 3, Steven fears a lot that he is going to become like Rose and he is going to hurt people the way like she did.

In general Steven deals with an Atlas complex in the show. He feels like he has to fix his mother mistakes and deal with ¨what she left behind¨ even when Rose wanted for him to be his own person as seen in the tape she left for him as it was revealed in the episode ¨Lion 4: The Alternate Ending¨.

Steven also defines his identity a lot for being to help other people and fix their problems. He believes that he has to be ¨useful¨ for others. So when he believes that he failed to help someone, that may lead him to think that he isn't living up to his ¨purpose¨ or that he is a failure as a person.

In reality, he isn't that much different from other hero protagonists from other animated shows. Those who are kind and emphatic and willing to listen to other people and give them a second chance if the person changes their ways. You probably like an animated show that has a protagonist like this. (Who was probably taken inspiration from Steven if the series came out after SU).

The main difference, i think, is that Steven goes a bit more than those protagonists do when it comes to listening to other people, understand their motivations and give them another chance if they regret their actions. A lot has to do with how he is aware that his enemies (usually gems) act the way the do because of the system they were born into rather ¨they are evil just because¨. He gets that their motivations come from the system that hurt them or lead them to believe that their actions are justified.

Another common mischaracterization is that Steven becomes super buddies with every person he helps...when this isn't always the case. There are some occasions that Steven shows discomfort around people who he has given a second chance. Just because he gives them a second chance doesn't mean that he immediately considers them close friends, maybe allies at best.

A good example of this is the gif above of Steven's interactions with White Diamond in ¨Homeworld Bound¨. White Diamond touches Steven very close to where his gem is- which makes Steven distressed since in his battle again White, she ripped his gem out to prove that Pink was still ¨alive¨. In most of the episode Steven shows to be very uncomfortable around the Diamonds and Spinel, to some extent. They bring him bad memories, which is the main reason he has been doing everything to avoid going to them to ask for their help until this point in Steven Universe Future. He even almost accidentally hurts White's gem by smashing her head against a pillar when she lets him control her to talk to himself. This being result of a intrusive ¨vengeful¨ thought.

I wouldn't say that Steven hates the Diamonds,but- he doesn't want to be their friend neither and wants to avoid in general because he feels nervous and bad around them. It's something like ¨I'm glad that you are changing but i don't want to be associated with you. Please, i would appreciate if you kept your distance from me.¨ dynamic.

On last point, Steven is someone who usually pushes his feelings down in certain situations and buries them down, which has led him to have strong emotional outbursts in bad moments. He usually prefers to ignore his own problems and take priority on others. Again, this comes a lot from his desire to be useful and be needed, making him trying to ignore how he feels about certain people and pretend that he is doing fine.

This explains why we don't see him lash out that much to others in the original series, and, why he feels so frustrated and angry in Future, since all that anger and negative feelings can't no longer be ignored as they used to and they are having a negative impact in Steven's mental health. This, of course, isn't meant to be seen is a healthy coping mechanism. It is in fact potrayed as something pretty self-destructive for Steven, as a huge flaw of his, that over time he comes to learn that it isn't the best way for him to deal with his problems.

These are some of the most common misconceptions i have seen about Steven's character online. I could go in more depth with some of them but i think the points should be clear enough. This could be considered a general analysis of how Steven is as a character and how he operates, leaving aside more specific things that can be covered in other posts.

#steven universe #steven quartz universe #steven universe future #rose quartz #su analysis

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cottonconnielvr · 10 months

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omg can you do connie or ony with a loser/geeky girlfriend? like she spends most of her time in her room reading, hyperfixating on weird things, and she barely has any friends.😭😭 you can add nsfw if u want <333

i actually love this and ony would most def have a gf like this

✩

you’re his lil “antisocial pookie bear” (he called you that)

he loves how whenever he’s telling you about his friends or something connie did he always has to remind who he’s talking about

like he’s gonna gatekeep you all the way

when his friends find ur socials he lowk salty

he doesn’t mind keeping you a lil secret

he still rejects every girl that comes up to him and makes it very known that he has a gf but when people ask where she at “Not yo business lil bro”

He prefers to keep you out of all his problems.

You like your drama free life and the moment you pop out with him he just knows every nigga gonna want you all of a sudden and girls are gonna start drama 🧍🏽‍♀️

You’re fine as hell so he expects it

He’ll post pics on social media tho with both of your faces covered (who doesn’t love a secret relationship)

You stay at home most of the time so Ony’s always coming over to keep you company

He’s really your bestfriend tho

You have a couple online friends but that’s it

He’ll binge watch any new anime or movie series you’re obsessing over

There was a time where you were hyperfixating over food plushies and anytime Ony was out at the store he’d always get you one

Ofc his friends always ask him why he’s buying weird looking mugs or plushies “Stay out my business”

( that’s just ony. stay out his business.)

He’d also go to Barnes & Nobles with you, buying you all the new books you want

His favorite thing to do with you is lay down and cuddle while you read to him (healing his inner child fr)

Now, he likes to be a sub to you. Or atleast a switch

You just drive him so crazy like he wants to eat you alive you’re so cute and quiet and-

He’s lowkey shocked to find out you a lil horny freak fuck (you be reading too much smut. yeah i know you do)

You gave him kinks he never knew he had

“F-fuck baby” Ony groaned out as you glided your tongue on the underside of his dick. Your previous orgasms coating him all over. You can hear the metal of his handcuffs clinking. “Stay still” You taunt him, taking him fully in your mouth. You can hear him wince and his thighs shake. “M’cumming” He mutters out. Your eyes widen in shock as you feel his cum shoot down your throat, fuck already?

#onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon aot #onyankopon smut #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon snk #onyankopon x black!reader #onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon #aot x black reader #aot smut #connie springer #aot headcanons #aot x you #aot x reader #connie springer x y/n #attack on titan eren #connie springer x black reader #eren aot

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merakidoll · 10 months

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is this slowly becoming a series? …. oops my bad 🤭

store owner onyankopon was so down bad for you. he hated admitting just how much you had him wrapped around your finger- but damn did you have it wrapped tightly. the doors to the store were locked, you writing a cute little sign about how he was on lunch - which he knew wouldn’t be believable because he ate at the counter while working but he went along with it.

“t-there papaaaa ooo spit on her” you - his lunch, now sat on the counter your legs over his shoulders while he kissed, sucked, and feasted on your pussy. what made this situation even happen was the gold grills he decided to be a whore and wear, and well - you just need him to suck on your clit with him on.

spitting on your pussy he took at long lick from your hole to your clit swirling his tongue and around the bud and moaning. “shit” he mumbled fucking his fingers into you hard, your body trembling with his long fingers hitting at a spot - making you see starts

“wish somebody would come in and see your slut ass” he smiled his glossy face making pre cum squirt out getting on his black fitted shirt. “shit ma’ma, make a mess for papa” giving your clit a gentle kiss, he licked his way down to where you leaked on his fingers, removing them in replace of his tongue.

just when his tongue was about to enter you sending you into a orgasm the barricaded door got unlocked connie walking in too busy on his phone to see - only until he looked up.

“ony man why the fuck was th- oh shit”

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ist4rgirlo · 9 months

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i want a conrad x famous reader imagine so bad rn!! the fisher-conklins meeting her (susannah is alive cause connie needs to be happy) and thinking she’s so cool but belly just thinking “she’s not all that” cause she’s jealous! idk they in love and met at brown cause she was filming a movie there and they fell in love

ughh it just warms my heart and her fans love him cause our conrad needs some lovin

────── 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

HEADCANONS !

summary : conrad fisher bringing famous!reader home.

warnings: FLUFF, belly being a jealous b*tch, shit talking, physical touch

You guys first met at Brown, you were filming something there for your series when you saw Conrad pass by. You thought he was cute so you literally did everything to get his number, it might be creepy but you told your assitants and your makeup artists to go up to him and ask him for his number, at first he was sketchy about it but soon gave it when he knew that it was you.

You have always been one of his favorite actors and he always had a little crush on you and would watch series that you are in. You guys got close but there was still something happening to him and Belly which you respected so you guys stayed as friends for a long time.

You would hang out with him and sometimes post about it, but stopped because he told you that Belly kind of got jealous about the comments because your fans were just shipping you with him.

Him and Belly decided to take a break to focus in their own things. He did want to get back with her because they didn’t have even end things you know? but he decided not to because he saw his brother and Belly kiss so that just broke his heart in so many pieces that he thought he could never trust anyone ever again.

But you were the only exception, you never took advantage of his feelings. You never broke his trust so he kept on coming to you.

You basically helped him put his heart back into one piece. That soon developed, with you doing that, he started to fall inlove with. You’ve always had a thing for him, you always liked him, it never stopped.

There was just an event that you got invited to and you decided to have him as plus one and that just escalated things quickly, rumors happened. You guys were so sweet during the event, there were pictures where Conrad was touching you, you guys were just so touchy that night. You couldn’t take your hands off of each other.

Both of you basically realized that you have feeling for each other so you started going out and going on dates more. Your fans absolutely loved it. You guys were just inseparable, he was so happy, you were so happy. You were meant for each other, you guys got together.

After a month or three of dating, he decided to finally bring you back home to meet the Conklins and the Fishers. Susannah ABSOLUTELY loved you and thought that you were so cool to the point where she would always invite you to dinners or lunch with the family or just you two.

───────────────────────────

During the dinner

“Omg I absolutely loved you in that series!” Susannah said excitedly. You giggled, amused about the stories the Susannah is telling about her watching the series with you in it. She said that you were her favorite character and she thought that you were so cool.

Laurel agreed, “Yes! I used to watch that with Belly, right? You loved that series!” she said, nudging Belly with her elbow. Belly shrugged, “Yeah sure, she’s not really all that. She’s fine” she said, scoffing. Making your brows furrow, you just nodded, “Yeah, I kind of messed up a lot of times there” you said said, agreeing. You felt Conrad’s hand reach for your hand, he looked at you shaking his head, “No no, you we’re absolutely amazing, baby. I loved that series, you we’re so good, I could watch it all day” Conrad said, smiling at you before placing a kiss on your forehead. You heard Belly scoff but you chose to ignore it, just listening to your boyfriend compliment you, placing a kiss on his cheek.

───────────────────────────

Conrad was the most supportive boyfriend you could ever have. Whenever you are filming something, he would always go there when he have the free time. He would bring you food, sweets and just anything tht you want. He would he there, happily watching you.

You would take him to events and red carpets. You wouldn’t always tell him to go since he wasn’t really the type to like the famous life, you would always ask him first and respect what he wants. He would always say yes and is happy to go with you, support you there and be your hype man.

When your fans knew that you guys are together GOD they absolutely loved Conrad. They would always ask where he is whenever they would see you in the streets when you are not with him, they would ask you to make him join your live if you go live on ig or tiktok or wherever.

They knew how sweet of a boyfriend Conrad was. He was literally the STANDARD LIKE LITERALLY. He would get a lot of praises and a lot of love, it did overwhelm him a little bit BUT THATS WHAT CONNIE DESERVES, you always told him that it was he deseves, he knows it he just does.

Well ofcours your love for him still had a different effect on him. OMG the love you give this man is absolutely out of this world. A LOT OF SHIT HAPPENED TO HIM AND HE JUST DESERVES A LOT OF LOVE YOU KNOW? so you give him a lot of love. You just basically melt him with all of your love.

You are head over heels with him and he is to you too. You just love each other so deeply.

another cutesy headcanon for connie baby. i absolutely love giving him love in my fics BECAUSE IT IS WHAT HE DESERVES SO KEEP EM COMING EVERYONE <3

#tsitp #tsitp conrad #tsitp conrad fisher #conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fic #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher headcanons #tsitp imagine #tsitp headcanons #tsitp fic #tsitp fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #abtconrad fics

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wheresarizona · 4 months

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Learning to Live Part 27

summary: Javier was warned by you that the place he chose to propose needed to be somewhere secluded because you’d be super horny afterward. What happens when you’re both super horny after he puts that ring on your finger? Let’s just say there’s no way in hell you’re making it back to your guest room at the Murphy’s, and you’re taking advantage of any time you have alone, even if it’s risky.

rating: E (18+!! This is basically porn with plot. It is horny. No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (about ten years), public sex, vaginal fingering, getting caught, oral sex (m & f receiving), road head, deepthroating, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie(s), woman on top, anal play, dirty talk, (MASSIVE) breeding kink, spit mention, come eating, birth control discussion, wedding planning, feelings, Angry Javier Peña, Javier Peña in love, Javier saying romantic things, Chucho being the best supportive father, Chucho jonesing to have grandchildren)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 17.7k+

a/n: I have had a rough last couple of weeks, and the only thing that kept me from having a complete and total breakdown was writing about these two horny dummies. This chapter is unbeta’d, and any mistakes are my own. Shout out to @juletheghoul for ensuring the Spanish made sense and @theorganasolo for giving it a read.

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

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The waves were roaring as they rolled and crashed toward the shore; some bird he couldn’t identify was squawking in the distance, the warm, humid air smelling like salt and brine. All of that was surrounding him, and the only thing Javier cared about was the woman moaning beneath him.

His fiancée.

She tasted like coffee and the sweetness of the berries and pineapple she had eaten earlier, tangling his tongue with hers. He held himself up with an arm beside her head on the blanket over the sand, giving himself enough space to work his other hand between their bodies and into her stretchy black leggings and panties. Two of his thick fingers were fucking in and out of her hot, wet cunt, his thumb on her swollen little clit, Javier swallowing her noises, knowing she was close with how tightly she was squeezing his digits.

Happy was an understatement for how he felt; he was on cloud nine, over the goddamn moon, on top of the fucking world—Javier had to be the happiest man on the entire planet because she said yes.

Yes!

She was wearing the ring, her fingers currently in his hair, and he was dying to be inside her.

There wasn’t any reason for him to be surprised by her answer, yet up until she said that three-letter word, there’d been fear in the back of his mind she’d say no. Which was ridiculous for him to even think, and he deserved it when she laid into him that she did say yes, and she was going to marry him.

He’d brought her to a little stretch of beach away from the high-traffic, touristy areas Steve and Connie had shown him years ago, so they’d have some privacy hidden away in their alcove, and since the lifeguards didn’t start patrolling until eight, there wasn’t much risk of anyone coming across them.

They didn’t get this far the first time they made out due to the interruption of her stomach growling and Javier stopping the heated kiss to insist that they eat breakfast, which they did as they watched the sun rise. Now, his cock was hard and straining in his jeans, arousal hot in his belly, working his fingers faster and making it a point to press into that spot that made her toes curl. Her muffled sounds got louder until her body was tensing, clamping down on his digits hard enough that he slowed his movements, working her through her climax with his thumb gently rolling over her sensitive bundle of nerves.

He nipped at her chin while she panted. “Good girl,” he purred, kissing a wet streak under her jaw. “Quiero hacerte el amor bajo el sol (I want to make love to you under the sun).” His words were said into her skin. “Quiero dártelo despacito mientras escuchamos las olas (I want to give it to you slowly while we listen to the waves). ¿Quieres eso (You want that)?” He sucked on her pulse point, and she moaned out yes, which might be his new favorite word.

All he needed to do was pull down her pants and underwear with how she was soaked and ready for him, and he’d be able to slide his dick inside the wet, snug heat of her pussy; Javier removed his hand from down her leggings, groaning as he sat up on his knees, his fingers going into her elastic waistband, starting to tug—

“Good morning, folks,” an unfamiliar masculine voice greeted.

Javier’s stomach plummeted, his heart pounding in his chest, and he immediately went on the defensive. His hands left her as his upper body twisted, and his head turned to glare at the interloper.

Fuck.

A small white truck was a little way away from them with Ocean Rescue in big blue letters on the side of it, a rack on the back with a long white paddleboard atop it, and a red lifeguard rescue tube hanging from it. A guy in his late twenties was in the driver's seat, his arm hanging out of the window, dark sunglasses covering his eyes, with floppy black hair and a clean-shaven face.

Javier cleared his throat, frowning.

“Good morning, sir...” he said.

Thank Christ, with how they were positioned, the younger man wouldn’t have seen anything; Steve would give him so much shit if he got arrested because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

“It’s usually only surfers out this early.” The lifeguard smiled. “I just wanted to make sure everything is okay over here.”

“Yeah, we’re fine.”

“Ma’am,” the man said a little louder, “is everything okay over here?”

“Everything’s great!” Javier glanced over to see she was holding her thumb up.

“Awesome.” The guy in the truck focused back on Javier. “I hate being a buzzkill, man, and getting in the way of your fun, but it’s my job to remind you this is a public beach.”

“Right, yeah.” Javier scratched at the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

He waved away his apology. “Don’t sweat it. Just enjoy the rest of your day!”

“Yeah, you, too. Thank you.”

The other man nodded once, his attention going in front of him as he started driving, slowly making his way down the beach and away from them.

“Oh my god, Javier,” Cielito groaned. “That was too close.”

He faced her, seeing her hands covering her eyes.

“I’m sorry, mi amor (my love),” he said, checking his watch. “Fuck, I didn’t realize it was after eight.”

She looked at him with shock on her face. “How did we lose track of time? How long were we fooling around for?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed, pressing clean fingers to his forehead. “I got so fucking caught up in everything I forgot to pay attention to the time.”

There was rustling as she sat up, her hands rubbing along his biceps. “We both got caught up and forgot we had a time limit. On the bright side, he stopped us before you pulled your dick out or got my pants off, so he saved us from being arrested for indecent exposure.”

“Still coulda gotten us with a lesser charge for fucking around in public.”

She pulled his hand away from his face to make him look at her and the soft smile on her kiss-swollen lips.

“But he didn’t. So, why don’t we pack up and take this party back to the house where we can attempt a quickie without anyone knowing?” She wagged her eyebrows.

His cock twitched, gulping at the thought. “Or I could just fuck you in the back of the car?” That was a better option.

“You know how much I love car sex, and the SUV does have a lot of space in the backseat and those dark, tinted windows, but I think our public sex luck has run out for today. I can picture perfectly how giddy Steve would be if he had to bail us out of jail because we were caught having sex in public.”

The image of his best friend’s grinning face came to mind, and just the thought made his jaw clench and mouth turn down in a frown.

He sighed. “You’re right. Steve would never let me live it down. The house is a better idea.”

“I’m always right,” she said with a smile, lightly patting his cheek.

Javier snorted, leaning forward to kiss her. “You are always right,” he murmured against her lips.

He felt her smile. “You’re gonna be the best husband.” The fingers of both her hands slid into the hair above his ears, and, along with her words, he had a shiver moving down his spine, feeling himself melt under her touch.

“And you’re gonna be the best wife,” he said as they broke apart, and he took her left hand into his, seeing the ring on her finger, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it.

“Ugh, we need to leave right this second because it is essential I make you come.”

He smiled, meeting her eyes.

“Essential? What if we can’t sneak away from the Murphys? I’m sorry, baby, but you might have to wait until tonight to get me off.”

The wheels were turning in her head. She was thinking hard until she nodded to herself at figuring something out. “I’m gonna make you come.” It was stated as a fact. “Before tonight.”

His eyebrow rose. “Uh-huh, right, and how are you going to do that?”

The toothy smile on her face was reminiscent of the Cheshire cat. “Oh, it’s a surprise.”

“It’s a surprise?”

“Yep.”

“No hints?”

“Nope.” She shook her head.

The most logical way for her to achieve her goal was to corner him in the bathroom back at Steve and Connie’s, but he didn’t think she’d be this excited about that. She had something else in mind, and he was curious what it was, finding her eagerness to get him off a major turn-on, as evidenced by the hard-on in his pants.

“I do like surprises,” he mused.

“You especially love sexy surprises, and I think you’re really going to like this one.”

“I know I will.” He caressed her cheek, memorizing how her face looked in the soft glow of the morning sun—breathtaking. “I love you.”

She smiled. “I love you, too.”

It didn’t take them long to pack up the stuff he’d brought into the tote bag that included empty berry containers, a mostly drunk thermos of coffee, and two dirtied coffee mugs, folding the big blanket, too, and putting it all in the trunk of the rental.

Javier thought the smile on his face might be permanent, with how it wouldn’t go away. He opened the passenger door for her. “Your ride awaits, Mrs. Peña.” She took the hand he held out to help her up into the vehicle as she giggled.

“Future, Mrs. Peña,” she corrected as she sat down in her seat.

He took the step to have him next to her and bent to be at her eye level, gently turning her head with his fingers on her chin. “You said yes, and you’re wearing the ring—all that’s keeping you from legally being my wife is a ceremony and a piece of paper, but to me? I’ve already got it in my head that you’re Mrs. Peña, my wife, and people will know you’re taken just by looking at your hand.” He nodded toward her hands in her lap on top of his leather jacket.

“You love that.” Her smile was beaming.

“Love what?”

She held up her left hand. “That you put a ring on my finger so it’s clear I’m off the market and unavailable—you like that you’ve staked your claim.”

Now, that made him frown—he did love that the engagement ring broadcasted she was in a serious relationship, but he did not like the idea that it was him putting a claim on her like she was a piece of property.

An exasperated breath left her. “Let me rephrase,” she said, “because I can see it on your face—” She gestured at it. “—that you’re hating me objectifying myself. You like that I’m wearing something that shows I’m yours and have chosen to spend my life with you, and when we’re together, others will see it and know, too.”

He was smiling again, taking her left hand into his, the pad of his thumb feeling the smoothness of the gold band, then the ridges of one small diamond, two, the largest, and down to the smaller ones before it was smooth gold again, and rubbing back over it, over and over again, as he spoke. “Yes,” he said. “I love that you’re wearing this ring so I can see the proof every fucking day that you chose to marry me—” He pressed his free hand to his chest. “Me. You’re marrying me, and just like how I can see the proof, everyone else can, too—they’ll know you’re mine, and I’m yours, and you’ve chosen me, and I can’t wait to wear my own ring to broadcast to the entire fucking world that I’m a married man and your husband.”

“God, you’re so fucking sweet—gold or silver?”

His eyebrows scrunched together. “Huh?”

“Your wedding ring. Gold or silver? Do you want diamonds on it? Or a different kind of gem? What are you imagining?”

“A gold band—nothing on it,” he answered immediately. “Gold that matches yours.”

Her eyes softened. “That makes perfect sense—something simple and classic.”

“Yeah, that’s all I need.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Now, let’s go, babe.” Her right hand brushed his bangs off his forehead. “You know how horny it makes me when you’re stupidly romantic, and I hate that you were cockblocked.”

He huffed out an amused breath. “I’m fine, mi amor (my love).” He gave her a quick peck on the lips.

Her hand moved from his face to the front of his jeans, Javier’s mouth falling open as she rubbed over his half-hard dick. “Sure, you’re fine,” she said. “Sure, you don’t care about not coming.”

There was a dull ache low in his gut from not getting off, and he swallowed hard at remembering her promise to make him come before that evening.

“Fuck, let’s go.” He kissed her quickly, grabbing her seatbelt and getting it around her body to buckle it in, kissing her one more time before he moved to shut the door, the dark window obscuring the view of her.

Cars were crowding the roads when they started heading back to the Murphys, the rush hour traffic making their commute much longer than the forty-five minutes it’d taken earlier that morning.

Javier fucking hated traffic, and it was one of the things he didn’t miss about Miami.

His jaw was clenched tight as they moved at a crawl down the highway with one hand on the steering wheel and his other in Cielito’s lap with their fingers intertwined, trying his best not to let his irritation of the other drivers sour their joyous day.

A candy apple red Mazda Miata with its top down almost hit their front bumper as it cut into their lane, causing Javier to slam on the brakes and lay on the horn. “Fuck!”

The guy in the car flipped him off, and his nostrils flared, his heart hammering, it taking everything in him to resist the urge to jump out of their Ford and kick the other man’s ass.

“Give me your cell phone,” his wife-to-be said.

He was seething, glancing at her. “What?” The word slipped through his teeth.

She let go of his hand to hold out her palm, looking at him expectantly. “Give me your cell phone, please.”

There was a deep frown on his face, his eyebrows dipped low, not wasting another second as he adjusted in his seat to easily pull the cell phone off his belt, passing it to her.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked, looking over at her.

“Home,” she answered, her attention on the phone’s numbers under the protective case’s front plastic.

“Why didn’t you bring it?”

“Why would I need it? We’re gonna be together the whole time we’re here, and I kinda didn’t want anyone to be able to reach me unless it was an emergency, which, if that were the case, they’d know to call you.”

Her answer made him smile, liking that she didn’t want their time together to be interrupted. He watched as she pressed a number, then the call button to speed dial someone, the device going up to her ear.

Seconds later, she was laughing. “Sí, Pop (Yes, Pop),” she said, “me propuso matrimonio y yo dije que sí (he proposed to me and I said yes).” She giggled, and he was looking at the road again as he listened, not caring about the traffic anymore. “Creo que soy yo la afortunada y seria estúpida si hubiera dicho que no (I think I’m the lucky one and I would have been stupid if I’d said no). Javi es increíble y me hace la mujer más feliz del mundo entero (Javi is amazing and he makes me the happiest woman in the world). No sabes lo feliz que estoy de que me haya pedido que fuera su esposa (You don’t know how happy I am that he asked me to be his wife)... Eso es cierto, estabas asi de feliz cuando Antonia dijo que sí (That’s true, you were this happy when Antonia said yes). ¿No es la mejor sensación (Isn’t it the best feeling)? Apuesto a que Javi también lo está sintiendo (I bet Javi’s feeling it, too).”

“I am,” he said, his head turning toward her with a smile, warmth spreading through his veins. “Sí, lo soy (Yes, I am). Se siente increíble (It feels amazing).”

She grinned. “Sí, él también está muy feliz (Yes, he’s very happy, too),” she told his dad. Something she heard made her laugh, and Javier wished he knew what his father was saying.

“What did he say?” Javier whispered, focusing back on what was in front of him.

It had her switching to English, sounding amused. “We haven’t even been engaged a day, and you’re already asking about grandchildren.”

Of course, that was what his dad wanted to talk about. It made his heart speed up that this was the conversation that would determine if Cielito and he would start their family—she wanted to discuss living on the ranch with Chucho while their house was being built, something his father had already agreed to with him but hadn’t talked to her about yet.

A big smile was on her face as she spoke. “Yes, we will definitely be married before a baby is born… We haven’t had a chance to hash out the details of our wedding yet… Oh, of course, we have to do something at the ranch with Daphne and Velma—” Those were their two calves they lovingly called their bovine children. “—and we’d have to make sure Steve, Connie, and their family can be there…” Her tone shifted to something somber, and he quickly looked over to see she was frowning, and he matched her look. “It’s fine that you asked,” she said, “but, no, I wouldn’t want anyone from my family there; I don’t think they’d come if we invited them, and I’d worry they’d cause a scene if they did show up… You and the rest of the Peña’s are all the family I need…”

Javier’s heart squeezed, reaching over to rub her thigh. “I love you, too…” She grabbed his hand and held it, his dad making her laugh again. “Yes, yes, your nietos (grandchildren),” she replied in exasperation. “Javi said he talked to you… I know you’re excited, Pop…” She was smiling again. “You really won’t mind a crying baby?” Javier held his breath. “You’re sure?” Whatever his answer was, it had her giggling. “I’m going to remember you said that! Today, December 11th, at—” Her attention went to the clock radio. “—8:39 am Jesús Eduardo Peña Torres swore he wouldn’t mind his grandchild crying at all hours of the night and stated he would even assist in caring for the child to give his son and daughter-in-law breaks…” His father said something that cracked her up, saying through her laughter, “You’re going to put it in writing for us?!” Javier chuckled, thinking when they saw his dad next, he most likely would have something written up for them because he was that serious.

As much as he was loving the banter between his fiancée and father, he was dying to know if this had quelled her worries.

The bumper-to-bumper traffic was an afterthought as he glanced over at her. “How are you, uh, feeling?” he quietly asked.

Her bright, shining eyes met his with a grin on her beautiful lips, moving the phone away from her mouth to cover the speaker. She whispered, “Oh, it’s go time, babe. Like, I am going to be keeping you busy."

The smile on his face made his cheeks hurt, her answer causing arousal to burn low in his gut and blood to rush to his groin.

She was going to keep him busy trying to get her pregnant, and he was more than up for the challenge—his dick hardening at the thought.

Cielito uncovered the cell phone, saying to his father, "Yes, I'm still here; sorry, Javi had a question... Oh, of course." She was smiling. "I love you, too. Here he is." With that, she held the phone out toward him, and he took it.

"¿Bueno (Hello)?" he answered with the device at his ear.

"¿Le propusiste matrimonio durante el amanecer como hablamos (Did you propose during the sunrise like we talked about)?"

While his wif-fiancée was out with her best friend the previous weekend, he’d gone to the ranch to discuss his proposal idea with his dad since the elder Peña was a romantic like him and understood what he wanted to do.

"Sí (Yes)."

“¿Dijiste el gran discurso romántico que habías planeado pero que te negaste a practicar conmigo (Did you say that big romantic speech you had planned but refused to rehearse with me)?”

Javier sighed, remembering how his dad had needled him to say it—the only reason he didn’t was because of how intimate and personal it was, and he only wanted his intended to hear it.

“Más o menos (More or less),” he answered. “Acabo de decir lo que se sentía bien y vino del corazón (I just said what felt right and came from the heart).”

“¿Y a ella le gustó mucho (And did she like it a lot)?

“Ella dijo que sí, así que supongo que si (She said yes, so I guess she did).”

“¡Esi es, mijo (That’s it, son)! Sabes, recibes tus genes románticos de mí (You know, you get your romantic genes from me).” Pride was in his tone. “No tengo duda de que lo que dijiste fue hermoso (I have no doubt that what you said was beautiful). ¿Le gustó el anillo (Did she like the ring)?”

His head turned and looked at it on her finger.

“Le encanta el anillo, especialmente porque era de mi mamá (She loves the ring, especially because it was my mom’s). Ella estaba conmovida que le dejaste tenerlo (She was touched you let her have it). Eh—” Their SUV was moving at a slow roll, and his head moved away from her, switching ears as he said, hopefully quietly enough that she wouldn't hear, "¿Es normal que haya mucho llanto (Is it normal for there to be a lot of crying)..?"

Chucho laughed. "Sí, Mijo (Yes, Mijo). Eso es bueno (That’s good). Tu madre también lloró cuando le propuse matrimonio (Your mom also cried when I proposed)—Incluso yo también lloré (I even cried).”

“Yo también (I did, too)."

"No hay nada de malo en eso (There is nothing wrong with that). Estoy muy feliz por ti, Javi, y orgulloso de ti (I am so happy for you, Javi, and proud of you). Vas a ser un esposo increíble (You’re going to be an amazing husband)."

The praise had a lump forming in his throat.

"Gracias, Pop (Thank you, Pop)."

"No, gracias, Mijo (No, thank you, Mijo). Has traído a una mujer maravillosa a nuestra familia y me encanta tener una hija (You've brought a wonderful woman into our family and I love having a daughter). Sería aún mejor si también tuviera algunos nietos (It would be even better if I also had some grandchildren)."

Javier sighed. "Lo sé, lo sé (I know, I know). Quieres a tus nietos (You want your grandchildren). Bueno, tendrás que esperar porque no es algo que sucede asi tan rapido (Well, you're going to have to wait because it's not something that happens overnight)."

"Lo siento por ser tan agresivo (I’m sorry for being pushy). Es que estoy emocionado (I’m just excited). ¿Ayudó mi conversación con ella (Did my talk with her help)?"

"Sí (Yes). Gracias por quedarte en casa hoy (Thank you for staying home today)."

"No quería perderme tu llamada (I didn't want to miss your call)."

"Lo aprecio mucho, Pop (I appreciate it a lot, Pop)."

"De nada, Javi (You're welcome, Javi). Sabes que haré cualquier cosa por ustedes dos y sus futuros hijos (You know I'll do anything for the two of you and your future kids). Ustedes significan todo para mí (You all mean everything to me)."

Javier knew his dad was telling the truth, and it made his eyes burn with unshed tears.

"Te amamos (We love you)."

"Yo también te amo (I love you, too)."

He didn't want his emotions to get the better of him when they should be celebrating.

“We'll see you Sunday,” he said in English.

"Yes, you will. I can't wait to get a picture of you and her with the engagement ring for my photo album. We're going to have a great dinner."

"Yeah, we will. I'm gonna get going. I'll let you know when we get home from our trip."

"Thank you. Congratulations, Mijo. I'm going to take some flowers to your mom and tell her the news. I love you—I love both of you, and your mother does, too."

The mention of his mom had foggy memories of his dream from the night before coming back to him, only recalling bits and pieces of it, but he knew his father was right—she did love them.

"Thanks, Pop. I love you, too. Bye."

"Bye, Mijo."

He pushed the end call button, moving it to his other hand. Beneath the car's stereo and temperature controls was a slot where he put the cell phone.

"Well," Javier started, reaching over to grab her hand, "I wouldn't be surprised if he had our wedding planned by dinner Sunday." He brought her hand up while he looked over at her and kissed the center diamond.

She giggled. "I'm pretty sure he started planning our wedding when we first got together, which, oh my god, how long has he known you were going to propose on this trip?"

"The first week of November. Why?"

His eyes were back on the road, keeping her hand in his palm, his thumb rubbing over the ring.

"Because over the last month, when it'd just be your dad and I talking, he was fishing for info on my dream wedding—I didn't think anything of it 'cause it's been set in stone for a long time that we're going to get married and I figured he was just being proactive."

Javier was frowning, feeling a twinge of annoyance that his dad could've ruined his plans.

"I'm glad it didn't tip you off..." he grumbled.

"Hey, don't be upset with him! He's our biggest supporter. He's invested in our relationship like we're Buffy and Angel or a couple in one of your tías telenovelas!"

His eyes narrowed. "He finds our relationship... entertaining?"

There was a lot of drama between couples in telenovelas, and he guessed they'd been through some shit in their relationship. She'd explained that vampire slayer show to him and made him watch some episodes, and knew Buffy and Angel didn't have an easy time being together.

"No, he doesn't find our relationship entertaining," she replied. "We're his favorite couple. He thinks we're meant to be together and wants our relationship to succeed more than anything."

"Oh."

"Yeah." There wasn't too much space between them, a small console keeping their seats separated, and she leaned over, her free hand reaching across her body to rub over his pec. "It's very sweet. There's something else I want to talk to you about."

"Yeah?" He turned on his blinker and looked over his shoulder to check his blind spot before merging into the next lane, where cars were moving a bit faster.

"Yes, babymaking."

Air hissed out of him at the sharp spike of arousal that cut through him.

He licked his lips. "What, uh, about it?"

"Our sex life is fucking amazing, and I don't want us to lose our spark and for it to become a chore; yes, we basically only have one shot a month, and we'll have to really go to town, but I want us to enjoy ourselves and fuck for pleasure, not for the sole purpose of reproducing."

Looking over at her with a smile, he said, "Yeah, that sounds good. I wouldn't want it becoming a chore, either."

She smiled. "I'm glad that's agreed upon. There's something else I need to tell you."

"Okay?"

"You know how we got up insanely early yesterday, too?"

That was when they traveled to Miami, and they'd woken up at 4 am to make their 6 am flight from Laredo to Dallas/Fort Worth.

"Yes?" He was paying attention to driving again.

"Well, apparently, in the hecticness that was making sure we had everything before we left the apartment, checking us in when we got to the airport, boarding the airplane, traveling, boarding another plane, and getting to Miami, it kinda, sorta, slipped my mind to take my birth control..."

His eyes went big, his head snapping toward her.

"What?"

"I know. I can't believe I forgot and just about had a heart attack this morning when I saw the pill in my pack—I had to make a choice."

"What choice?" he asked.

"It was either I take yesterday's and today's pills, or I take neither."

"What did you choose?" he breathed out the question. He thought his heart might thump right out of his chest, looking forward once more.

"Well, based on the fact that I showered after each time we fucked yesterday, and there's still come inside me, and we've agreed to a baby, I just said fuck it and threw away the entire pack."

His brain short-circuited, it taking him a little longer than usual to process what she said, and needing to make sure he understood her correctly.

"You're no longer on birth control..?"

"Nope," she said with a pop of the 'p.'

"I could get you pregnant?"

"Yep." The word popped from her mouth.

"Fuck." Blood was rushing to his dick, remembering how he had come inside her twice the day before. What if he’d already knocked her up?

She removed her hand from his, her upper body turned toward him and close while she rubbed along his inner thigh, making him gulp.

"Do you like that?" she purred.

Both of his hands were on the steering wheel now, squeezing so tight the leather creaked.

He cleared his throat. "You know I do."

She palmed his swelling cock, and his mouth fell open.

"Yes, you do. It's too bad we're gonna get back to the house and won't be able to lock ourselves away in the guest room and fuck for hours. Just imagine fucking me over and over again to keep me all nice and full."

Now, it was all he could think about. He was fully hard, and he hated that they wouldn't be able to do just that. How was he supposed to enjoy the rest of their trip when he was so fucking horny?

"How long until we get back to the Murphys?" she asked.

It took him a second to register her question; his brain was stuck on imagining fucking her in a myriad of positions and finishing inside her each time.

He glanced at the clock, then the cars in front of them, and the sign on the side of the highway for where they were. "Uh, maybe forty/forty-five minutes." And then they wouldn't be alone until later that night, which made his mouth turn down, annoyed. "Why would you put that shit in my head?" he groused.

Sure, they could try to slip away to be alone; however, he had his doubts that they’d have enough time to fuck. They didn't have an excuse like they did yesterday of needing a nap and shower after traveling. The kids would want their attention—Steve and Connie sure as fuck would notice if they disappeared for an extended amount of time in their home, and his best friend would happily interrupt if he had a chance, like when he banged on the wall the night before when they were trying to have sex in that goddamn squeaky bed.

"Because," she answered, "I want you to be so horny you'll let me suck your dick right this second."

His cock jerked hard in his jeans as he groaned.

"I thought you said our public sex luck had run out?"

"Our stationary public sex luck has run out, but now we're moving in a dark windowed vehicle. So, if you want and think you can handle it, I'll suck you off to take an edge off of how unbelievably horny you are—which you're at the grumpy stage of being unbelievably horny, and I'd prefer getting you in a better mood, so you're not too mean to Steve."

She was right. He was unbelievably horny.

"Okay, yes, please."

The sight before him was miles upon miles of cars and a sea of glowing red rearview lights, the tall buildings in downtown Miami jutting high in the sky off in the distance to the left. They were moving slowly and steadily down the road.

Her seatbelt clicked as she unbuckled herself, shuffling to get her knees on her seat, leaning over the small, low center console, his hand closest to her moving to rest on her shirt-covered back to give her room to work open his belt and jeans.

The metal of his belt buckle rattled, and she quickly popped open the button on his pants, lifting his hips instinctively for her fingers in the denim waistband to tug them down far enough to free his throbbing dick and heavy sack; his jeans pulled taut as they stretched across his spread thighs.

He looked down to watch her spit in her palm, the ruddy tip of him shining with precum. She took him in hand, and he gasped, her head tilting up to meet his gaze. Reaching, he squeezed a handful of her ass.

"I know you love watching, but I need you to be a good boy and keep your eyes on the road." He swallowed hard. "Just know I've wanted to do this since the beach, and I'm happy you're finally letting me—my panties are drenched."

"Jesus Christ," he said on an exhale, looking forward at the sports car they were slowly following. "I love you so fucking much." Both of his hands went to the steering wheel, keeping them at ten and two.

"I love you, too, and if it becomes too much, you're allowed to tap out."

"I know."

She licked a broad stripe from base to tip, swirling her tongue around the head, making Javier groan as she pressed into those sensitive spots that made sparks dance along his spine. Pleasure had ignited in his belly, her lips wrapping around him and taking him into the hot, wet heat of her mouth, his jaw dropping and hands making the leather screech with how tightly he was squeezing the steering wheel.

The vibrations of her moans had the fire rapidly building in his gut, loving how he could hear how much she was enjoying herself.

She spit on the head of his cock, following it with her mouth, bobbing up and down, taking more and more of him until he was hitting the back of her throat, and it had him panting when she swallowed around him to take him down into the tight space.

"Oh, fuck, baby," he moaned, his toes curled in his boots. "That's so fucking good."

It did feel good, but what would be even better was if he could fuck her—he was greedy. She was giving him a fantastic blow job, and all he could think about was how he wished he was inside her—that it was the wet heat of her pussy enveloping him right now.

Yeah, she was on her way to getting him off—she was now wetly stroking him while her head dipped down so she could lick at the thin skin of his balls—but no matter how much pleasure she was bringing him, there was still an undercurrent of irritation from being interrupted that morning when he was trying to get into her pants.

This might not have been the best idea when the car behind them honked because he was going too slow; Javier immediately sped up.

She was right.

She could take the edge off of how horny he was by making him come with her mouth; he just hated he couldn't fuck her until later that night.

Add in the fact she accepted his proposal and told him she wasn't on birth control anymore, and it was killing him he had to wait to have sex with her. She put it in his head about fucking her for hours, and he was annoyed it wasn't something he actually had the means to do with them being on a trip.

If it was his choice and he knew they could get away with it, he’d lock them away in the guest room when they returned to Steve and Connie’s and spend as much time as he could between his future wife’s legs.

She had him back down her throat, humming around him, and he felt his eyes beginning to roll back in his head—a horn blared behind them again, this time the car speeding to pass around them, the traffic finally letting up, and the vehicles moving at regular speeds. It pissed him off, turning on his blinker and looking over his shoulder as he moved over into the far right lane for slower traffic, hoping people would leave them the fuck alone.

He was close, his heart beating rapidly, and dick swallowed down deep in her throat while her hand fondled his sack, it adding fuel to the burning fire in his gut, the muscles starting to tighten—at the thought of finishing in her mouth, he frowned.

A sign on the side of the road caught his attention, showing some places off the next exit that gave him an idea. Glancing at the clock on the stereo, he made a decision.

Or, more accurately, his dick made a decision.

"Don't make me come."

His sentence came out strained, his big hand on the back of your head and his hard cock nestled in the tight confines of your throat. Tears were streaming from the corners of your eyes at suppressing your gag reflex, saliva dripping down your chin.

What he said made your eyebrows furrow, humming, 'What?' around him.

You could hear the blinker clicking, his long arm reaching to grab some of your ass.

"Don't make me come," he said again.

With how he was panting and his tense thighs, you knew it wasn't going to take much more to finish him, and you didn't understand why he wanted you to stop, coming off of him with a gasp, a string of spit keeping you connected.

Your breaths were labored, sitting up to look at him.

"Are you okay?" you asked.

He looked at you with a smirk, his face flushed.

"I'm fucking amazing," he answered.

His dick was slick as your hand languidly jerked him, easily moving up and down the velvety skin.

"...and you don't want to come..?" It made no sense. You knew how horny he was.

"I want to come." His eyes went to the road. "I just don't wanna come in your mouth." He seemed to be looking for something outside, his head moving forward with squinted eyes, and your face turned to see where you were, finding that he was taking you down a busy city street lined with stores, restaurants, and motels.

"Um, what's your game plan here, babe?" You were beyond confused. "We're not back in Laredo, where you have your secret sex spots around town." There were different secluded places Javi had found in his younger years to park his truck and fool around with girls. "This seems too risky."

The buildings were getting nicer and newer the closer you got to the towering buildings of downtown.

"We're not doing anything risky, mi amor (my love). Especially not after this morning. Trust me."

The blinker ticked as he pulled into the parking lot of a hotel that was by far the fanciest you've driven past so far, but definitely not a five-star establishment—maybe three if you had to guess while the others had been ones and twos.

"You're joking," you said. "We're not getting a hotel room and abandoning your friends."

He parked in a spot facing the road and turned off the engine, wiggling in his seat as he got his jeans up.

"We're not staying here for the night," he said, watching as he tucked his still-hard cock into the waistband of his pants he buttoned and buckled, covering it with the bottom of his white button-up shirt.

"This isn't the kind of place that rents by the hour, Javi. We passed those, and I don't get why we didn't stop at one if we're planning to fuck for an hour or two."

His eyes met yours as he frowned. "I'm not taking the woman I love, my fiancée, to a seedy motel. You deserve better, so I don't give a fuck if this place doesn't rent by the hour, I'm getting us a room no matter how much it costs, and I'm going to fuck you for a couple of hours because I swear I'm going to go fucking crazy if I don't come inside your pussy in the next twenty minutes."

What he said had you clenching hard around nothing, completely down for his plan. There wasn’t anything for you to wipe your face off with, so you settled on using your shirt to get the spit and tears off your skin, not caring about the dark splotches on the coral-colored fabric when you were done.

"Let's go," you said, grabbing your purse from the floor and getting out of the SUV.

Javi met you at the back of the vehicle and grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him as he briskly walked toward the entrance.

“I love that you’re comfortable enough in your masculinity to admit you’re not gonna last and didn’t lie to me about how you were gonna rock my world or some shit.”

He looked over his shoulder at you with an eyebrow raised. "Who said I'm not gonna rock your world? Yeah, the first round might be quick, but it's still gonna be good for you, baby." He ended the sentence with a wink, which had your skin heating. Javi focused on what was in front of him as you walked through the doors that automatically slid open upon your approach.

He wasn't joking when he said he didn't care about the cost—it was a Friday during the busiest travel season of the year, and you hadn't booked ahead; you were lucky they even had a room available. There was no hesitation when they told him the obscene price for one night, and he handed over his American Express credit card. His black leather wallet was in one hand, the fingers of the other tapping impatiently on the marble countertop while he waited for the worker to finish the transaction.

He didn't read over any of the paperwork he scribbled his signature on, and once they told him the room number and handed over the keycard, his hand was taking yours to quickly lead you to the elevator the hotel employee had pointed out.

The room was a queen suite with the typical bedroom furniture—a bed, nightstands, dresser, TV, as well as a sitting area that consisted of a couch and coffee table, a desk on the opposite wall, beside a mini fridge with a microwave atop it.

There wasn't much time to take in the details because the moment Javi got the door open, he was dragging you in and kicking it closed as his mouth collided with yours in a hard and searing kiss, palming your ass with one hand, an arm around your back guiding you further into the room.

The keycard got tossed onto the desk, along with your purse, his tongue eagerly pressing between your lips. Arousal was burning in your belly, your fingers working open the buttons of his shirt while he walked you toward the bed that was in the far corner and felt like it was miles away.

The tension that had built up since your morning liaison had been interrupted was so thick it was palpable enough to be cut with a knife. There was desperation in your kisses, feeling his need with every hungry press of his lips to yours; relief as you removed each other's clothes, that you were finally somewhere you didn't need to worry about how loud you were or anyone bothering you; overwhelming happiness over the day's events and eagerness to make use of the perfect, not-absurdly squeaky, queen-size bed.

The two of you were naked in record time, and after Javier pulled off the ugly red and green floral printed bedspread to fall into a pile on the floor, he was facing you, his hard dick bobbing between his legs, with a look on his face that promised trouble.

"No," you said.

That just made him grin and move quicker as he replied, "Yes," his arms getting around you as you laughed. He used that impressive strength he developed from doing manual labor on his father's ranch to toss you onto the mattress, where you bounced a few times, the springs complaining under your weight—Javi quickly followed, finding yourself with a sizable man on top of you, his hips nestling in their home between your thighs while his lips found yours once more.

His hair was soft between your fingers, feeling the hard line of his cock pressing into your belly.

You spoke between kisses. "You just love… throwing me like… a sack of potatoes."

You felt his mouth curve into a smile. "Yes."

"One of these days… you're gonna… throw out… your back."

He nipped at your lip, pulling back to look at you with a grumpy expression. "I'm not gonna throw out my fucking back—I'm used to hauling around calves and bails of hay. Tossing you around is nothing."

"Okay, Hercules. Now, how do you want me?” You held his cheeks. “Missionary? Doggy? Cowgirl? Reverse cowgirl? From the side? In your lap? What are you feeling? 'Cause you weren't the only one cockblocked this morning, and I would really like to get fucked."

"Do you wanna come on my fingers again? Or my mouth?"

"Nope.” You smiled. “Dick, please."

He crookedly smiled. "I love you so fucking much."

"A girl tells you she wants your dick, and you proclaim your love—how romantic."

"My wif-fiancée," he quickly corrected, "tells me she wants my dick when I'm dying to be inside her—I'm gonna proclaim my love for her. Hell, I wanna propose to you again."

You giggled. "The power of my pussy,” you said, pulling him down for a brief kiss, your eyes on his when you separated. "And I love you, too. Position?"

He gave you a quick peck. “You’ll see,” he said and started getting up, a pained groan leaving him.

Sitting up on your elbows, you watched as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed by you with his feet easily planted on the floor. With where he was on the mattress, you had a view of his profile, taking in the curve of his nose and his plush, pillowy lips, watching him spit on his fingers that he curled around his shaft, hearing the wet strokes as he slicked himself up.

His head turned to you. “Move your legs.”

He wanted to lie back, and it made you smile as you moved them out of his way and got up on your knees. “I’m riding you,” you said.

Javi was lying on his back with his long legs bent at the knees along the edge of the bed while his feet touched the ground, and his ass settled a little over halfway to the middle of the mattress.

He was looking at you with a smile. “Yeah—get on, mi amor (my love).”

“My ride awaits?” you asked, tossing him a few pillows, Javi putting one under his head as you shuffled toward him.

“My dick awaits.” And it was, his cock resting against his stomach in the hair below his belly button, shining from his saliva in the dim light coming from over by the door.

“Yes, it is.” When you went to straddle him, his hand on your thigh stopped you.

“Other way,” he said.

A toothy smile appeared on your face. “Reverse cowgirl.” You turned around with your back to him, getting your leg over his hips. “I’m surprised you’re putting me in charge,” you said, keeping a hand on his thigh for balance while the other went between your legs to grab his hard length. “I’d think with how horny you are, you’d wanna just fuck my brains out.” Slotting him at your entrance, you didn’t draw things out and sunk down, matching moans coming from you both as he stretched your tight walls, and you took him all the way down to the hilt.

His hands were on your hips, holding you flush against him.

"Don't move," he said through his teeth, his cock twitching inside you.

You were leaning forward with your palms on his thighs for leverage.

"I won’t—god, you feel so good inside me, Javi. I love you.”

"You feel so good around me." He already sounded wrecked.

It took a minute before his fingers loosened their grip.

"Monta me (Ride me)." He smacked the side of your ass. "Monta me, mi Cielito (Ride me, my Cielito). Mi amor, mi vida, mi prometida (My love, my life, my fiancée). Haznos venir (Make us come)."

At the order, you started moving, rising on your knees until only the tip of him remained inside and falling back down, over and over again, at a steady pace.

"I fucking love you," he groaned. "Fuck, you look so good." His hands squeezed your asscheeks, spreading them and helping you bounce. "This ass—fucking love this ass bouncing on my dick." He gave it a spank; his voice was tight like it was taking everything in him to keep himself from coming. "Love this pussy; this perfect pussy—I was made for this pussy.” His breaths were loud, and you knew if you looked at his face, it’d be screwed up like he was in pain with his eyebrows pulled together and teeth bared.

“Javi,” you moaned when his thumb slid through your wetness up his cock to press to your asshole, circling the tight ring of muscle, something blissful curling inside you.

“I'm gonna marry you,” he continued. “I wanna give you my last name. Shit," he hissed and audibly gulped. "You’re off your birth control. You're gonna make me come, and I could get you pregnant."

Obviously, he was loving the visual of seeing your ass move up and down as you worked yourself on him—and you were loving the things he was saying, so much so it had a wave of arousal dripping down his cock and making it slicker where you were joined.

Heat had started forming at the base of your spine, your slick walls hugging his dick, spearing into you and fitting so perfectly, each stroke felt like nirvana.

"I'm gonna keep you full of my come today," he gritted out. "Gonna fuck you as many times as you'll let me to keep you stuffed."

A shock of pleasure in your tummy made you clench hard around him and stuttered your rhythm.

"You think you'll knock me up?" you panted.

"I know I'll knock you up—if not today, maybe tomorrow or the next day. I'll fuck a baby into you, eventually."

It was a promise, and it thrilled you.

Your breaths started coming out heavier, feeling the threads of your orgasm beginning to wind. Your brows were furrowed as you concentrated on your movements, breathily moaning.

As incredible as this felt, just the penetration wouldn't get you off; you needed more—it was loud between your legs, hearing his cock wetly working in and out of your pussy, the bed’s springs softly squeaking beneath you, rough sounds coming from Javi’s throat, and softer ones slipping past your lips, the air conditioner, below the window, loudly thrumming in the background.

"Fuck, lay back," he said. "I'm too fucking close."

It took a little maneuvering to get your legs out in front of you while keeping his dick in place and lying back so your spine was to his chest. You ended up leaning a little to the left, so your head rested beside his on two stacked pillows. His fingers dug into your waist, and he started thrusting up from beneath you, the new angle making his cock press into spots that had stars bursting behind your closed eyelids and his name leaving your lips in a hedonistic chant that seemed to only get louder as the seconds passed.

This was on par with how you expected he'd fuck you when you got into this room, his feet planted and giving him the traction he needed to push up his hips and fuck into you hard and fast, his dick never more than halfway out of you.

He was grunting in your ear, the pleasure in you building, hearing the slick slide of him fucking in and out of you. Your hands had grabbed onto his forearms for something to hold onto, your fingernails, no doubt leaving behind crescent moon indents in his skin.

And since Javi knew your body like the back of his hand and how to play you like a goddamn fiddle, he licked two of his fingers and pressed the pads to your perky little clit, circling it just the way you liked while his other hand massaged your breast before his digits were tweaking your stiff nipple.

"Need you to come for me," he grunted. "I wanna feel my fiancée come around my dick. I need you to squeeze me, so I can fuck you full of me—need to fill you up."

The muscles in your abdomen began to wind up tight; the onslaught of his cock pistoning into you, his fingers swirling around your sensitive bundle of nerves, and your nipple being pinched and rolled had you soaring toward your end.

"Oh god," you whined through hard breaths, "I'm gonna come—you're gonna make me come."

"Let go, mi amor (my love)," he said. "Come for me, baby."

The tension built inside you until you were cresting, coming with a shout, your body tensing up and pussy clamping down on him so hard it sent him with you. Javi pushed up into you as deep as possible, a low, dirty moan leaving him as his dick jerked hard, and you felt the pulse of spurts and spurts of his come painting your walls.

Pleasure had overtaken every molecule in your body, your breaths panting from your lungs, and your heart thudding a mile a minute, not bothering to fight it when you went completely lax and became a dead weight atop your future husband. You welcomed the sweaty arms that wrapped around your middle, and turned you onto your sides without dislodging himself inside you, your hand going back to push into his damp hair, his face nuzzling at the back of your neck.

There was a stillness to the room as your hearts slowed together and breaths evened out, the hum of the air conditioner’s motor the loudest sound. Calm had washed over you both; peace, relief—for the first time since you were back home, you could actually relax. There was no fear that someone heard you or you were too loud. Instead, you were able to bask in the post-coital glow when the two of you never felt closer and more connected.

Minutes pass, and in the distance, you hear the occasional door slamming and voices passing by your rented room, fading away as quickly as they came.

"What's your dream wedding like?" Javi asked, ending the long, comfortable silence.

“You know how women say they’ve been dreaming about their wedding since they were little girls?”

"Yeah?"

"I don't know what kind of childhoods they had, but weddings never crossed my mind as a kid aside from when we had to go to one, and they were really fucking boring to me.” Javi snorted. “There was maybe one time I thought about my own nuptials, and it was in my early teens at my cousin's wedding that was insane. There were over two hundred people in attendance at some swanky venue, with expensive food and booze—think steak and lobster, a raw oyster bar, and Dom Pérignon; they went all out, and my mother made this comment about how so many of the guests would come to my future wedding—and she didn’t mean our family members; she was talking about the wealthy friends of our family I barely knew and the rich acquaintances my parents just wanted to rub elbows with.”

“You hated that,” he said, kissing your bare shoulder.

“I fucking hated it and was not okay with the idea that one of what was supposed to be the happiest days of my life would be hijacked to keep up appearances.”

“Sounds fucking miserable.”

“Right? I don’t want a big wedding. I don’t like being the center of attention, and I know I seem pretty confident, but I actually get awful stage fright. So, I don’t think I want a small wedding either. My dream wedding is you and me going to the courthouse with your dad and Robyn as witnesses and eloping, then afterward, we throw a big party to celebrate with our friends and family—that just sounds nice to me.”

His lips pressed to your neck.

"What about you?" you asked. "How do you imagine your dream wedding?"

His arms around your belly squeezed a little tighter.

"My dream wedding is whatever you want it to be."

"As sweet as that is, it's your special day, too. And you're a big 'ol sap, so I know you've got something in mind.” Your fingers scratched lovingly at his scalp.

"I don't want a big wedding, either.”

“I am well aware.”

Years and years ago, his wedding with Lorraine was going to be the biggest in Laredo that year since her dad was the mayor and her family was well-known and the wealthiest in town—which was a huge reason why it was well over seventeen years later, and people still talked about Javier leaving her at the altar.

“Yeah, I guess you are—I love you.” He held you closer.

“I love you, too, baby,” you said.

“You wanna know how I picture our wedding?” he asked. “You know the tree on the hill out on Pop's land, I take you to watch the sunset?" It was the place where you told him you knew he loved you before he ever said the words and somewhere you’d returned many times after.

"I'm very aware of the spot. We ride out there all the time." Him on his horse, Sombra, and you on his cousin's, Dulce. Javi was more than happy having you on his horse with him, but you had asked him to teach you how to ride by yourself, and he did. You quite enjoyed being able to do it on your own.

His finger started skating along the skin of your belly, drawing random shapes.

“I like to imagine us at the tree as the sun sets with my dad officiating—he’s holding his bible, and I know we’re not into that shit, but it’s Pop, and he’d give it his all, including a scripture or two, and a photo of mi mamá (my mom) he’d hold under his fingers to the cover of the book so she’s there with us, too, and Seb and Robyn would come as our only two witnesses.” His cousin, and your best friend/co-worker, who were dating.

You could picture it perfectly, standing there beneath the old oak tree’s tall, twisting limbs and canopy of green leaves with Javi’s big hands holding yours as you said your vows and intertwined your lives with an exchange of rings, the sky exploding in color from the setting sun.

"Your dream wedding is just a stupidly romantic version of my dream wedding,” you said. “How dare you out-dream wedding me!"

He chuckled, sitting up a little and using his hand to turn your head by the chin so he could lean over and kiss your cheek. "I told you my dream wedding is whatever you want it to be.” He nuzzled against your face. “I don’t think I’ve told you this,” he said. “Sunrise and sunset used to be nothing more than the beginning and end of my day when I worked on the ranch, and then I met you—the sun would rise, and it meant another day with you in my life, and the beauty of it took my breath away. And sunsets? They’ve never been prettier—they’re gorgeous, and I want to share every sunrise and sunset with you for the rest of my life.”

You flipped over, and it had him slipping out from between your legs, a low hiss coming from his mouth.

"Sorry," you said, pushing him to lie on his back as you straddled his hips, and laid chest to chest with him. Your face hovered over his with your arms holding yourself up beside his head, ignoring his come oozing out of you. His eyes were squeezed shut as you stared at him. "I’m gonna marry you so hard, you sweet, adorable, romantic man—you said your dream wedding is whatever I want it to be, and now it’s your stupidly romantic wedding at our tree during sunset."

His eyelids blinked open, and he smiled crookedly.

"Yeah?"

"Yes." You nodded. "Is your dad even ordained?"

He had a thoughtful expression. "I don't think so? But I read you can get ordained online, and it's not difficult to do. We can ask him if he'd want to."

Your face softened. "You know he'd love to."

He was smiling. "Yeah, he would."

The look on your face shifted to something mischievous. "And if he says no, we can just ask Steve to do it."

His features scrunched into something annoyed, and a hand slapped your ass hard, making you laugh.

"Over my dead body," he said. "He's not doing our fucking wedding ‘cause he’d say embarrassing shit and ruin everything. If Pop won't do it, then we're going to the courthouse."

"That's it? We're either having a sunset tree wedding or going to the courthouse? There's nothing else you'd want?"

He thought it over for a second.

"I like your idea about a party afterward with our friends and family," he answered. "I'm with you on not wanting to get married in front of everyone, but I do wanna celebrate with them."

You smiled. "So, private ceremony and a poppin' party afterward? Did we just plan our wedding?"

He matched your look, his hand coming up to hold your cheek. "Yeah, I think we did." He pulled you down, kissing you tenderly. When he looked at you after, his gaze was soft. "Any day, any time, you tell me when, and I'll be there no matter what," he said. "Nothing will keep me from marrying you.” He suddenly looked unsure. “You know that, right?"

It made your heart ache. He was worried you thought he might not show up to your wedding as he'd done at his first.

"Javi, baby." You put all your weight onto one arm to push his hair out of his face with your other hand and soothingly stroke your fingers through the soft strands. "Is the sky blue?"

His eyebrows creased. "Yes?"

"Is grass green?"

"Yes?"

"Are you the sexiest man alive?"

He frowned. "Fucking Harrison Ford is this year’s sexiest man alive, and you know that." He was pouting, and it made you snort.

When he saw the People Magazine while the two of you were at the grocery store proclaiming Harrison Ford as this year's sexiest man alive the previous month, Javi had grumbled, 'You gotta be fucking kidding me,' because he knew you thought the actor was attractive and had seen the majority of his filmography. Javi had a love/hate relationship with the guy since he did quite enjoy his movies but couldn't stand the fact that the other man was your celebrity crush.

"Well, whoever decides the sexiest man alive at People Magazine is wrong since the correct answer to that question was yes—you, Javier Peña, are the sexiest man alive."

"Fucking Harrison Ford," he muttered.

You huffed in exasperation, rolling your eyes.

"Let's get back on topic. Does two plus two equal four?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Is Empire Strikes Back the best Star Wars movie?"

"Yes—why are you asking these questions?"

"Because they’re all facts," you said. "Like how I know for a fact you'll be there on our wedding day to say 'I do' and put a ring on my finger so I'll officially become Mrs. Javier Peña."

His dimple was showing he was smiling so big. "Yes, I fucking will."

His arms were around you, and a surprised sound left you as he rolled you onto your back, your thighs cradling his hips and feeling his cock beginning to harden between your bodies.

He lightly bit at your chin, his lips making a wet trail of kisses under your jaw that had tingles skittering down your spine, moaning when he got to the sensitive skin of your throat, your fingers tangling into his hair.

"I'm gonna marry you.” His voice was muffled while he kissed and bit along the column of taut skin. "And there's a chance you could be pregnant with our baby when I do."

He was making it hard to think while he sucked at your pulse.

"When?" you gasped.

"Hmmm?" he hummed.

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart beating in your cunt.

"When do you want to get married?"

His head came up to look you in the eyes, low light from the fixture above the room’s door across the bedroom glowing behind the mess of brown hair on his head, giving some strands sticking out at odd angles a honeyed hue. His lips were red, cheeks pinked up, his gaze dark and hungry.

"Whenever you want," he answered. "Next weekend, next month—if you're planning on inviting people out of state, I'm fine with waiting a few months to give them time to figure out their travel shit. It's all up to you." He pecked your lips. "Most of my family are back home, and then I'd want Steve's family there—that's it for me."

He kissed you then and really kissed you. The kind of kiss that told you the conversation was over, and he wanted to shift his focus to the fact you were both naked in a bed, in a place where you could fuck with abandon and no interruptions.

Javi moved you further up the mattress and sheathed his hard dick back inside your sopping pussy, the slickness of his come allowing him to slip right in—his mouth was fused to yours while he slowly rocked, letting you feel every ridge and vein along his shaft pressing against your inner walls.

He had you feeling incredibly full with how he was keeping most of himself buried inside your cunt, pushing in so deep you thought he had to be up in your guts. Your legs wrapped around his waist and locked at the ankles, his large palm grabbing your left hand from his hair to lace your fingers together, his lips leaving yours to kiss the diamond before pressing your hands into the bed beside your head, his mouth back on yours.

It started soft and slow, neither of you rushing to come and simply enjoying being with the other. At some point, there was a shift, and the kisses became more heated until he was breaking away to get up on his knees, untangling your legs from him and moving them to one side, causing your hips to twist onto your side with his cock still inside you. He had one hand gripping your thigh, the other on the side of your ass, and he started moving at a hard, fast pace that had skin slapping against skin as his hips connected with your backside and the backs of your thighs.

He made you come by getting his fingers into the tight space between your closed legs to play with your clit while he pounded into you, and before you even recovered, he had you up on your spread knees, your chest to the mattress as you caught your breath. Your fingers were clawing at the snow-white sheets and moaning loudly when his tongue licked against your overly sensitive bundle of nerves.

Javier said he was going to fuck you for a couple of hours in this hotel room, and he did.

In the first hour, he had you on top of him, on your knees, your back, your stomach, your side, bent over the bed and on the edge of it. You lost track of how many times you came, and it was a mess between your legs with the two times Javi had finished inside you.

There was, of course, a break for Javi to recover after he'd come, and so you both could drink some water from the plastic cups on a tray with the empty ice bucket.

His cell phone started ringing about an hour and a half after you arrived.

There was a thin sheen of sweat coating both of your naked bodies, and you were lying back with your head on a pillow—Javi's lips were wrapped around the swollen berry of your clit while two of his thick fingers were deep in your come-filled cunt, pressing into that spot that had your vision blurring, so close to climaxing you were right on the precipice.

Your hands were in his hair, moaning loudly, and the sudden ringing had you jumping in your skin.

"Ignore it," he said into your pussy.

He was back to sucking on your bundle of nerves, and you focused on the pleasure building in your tummy, winding tighter and tighter. The call went to voicemail, and the ringing stopped. Finally, you fell over the edge, coming with a gasp, your muscles clenching up tight, euphoria erupting out from your center.

"Good girl," his muffled voice said, working you through your high.

You were feeling amazing, your body completely relaxing, limbs trembling, practically melting into the bed, and having to fight off the exhaustion from so many orgasms that was threatening to make you fall asleep.

Ringing started again, and it startled you.

Javi sighed against your cunt, his mouth and fingers leaving you and the mattress jostling as he got up.

"Who the fuck is calling?" His voice was a little hoarse.

"My money is on either your dad or Steve," you slurred, sounding drunk.

Your eyes were closed, but you could hear the rustle of him grabbing his jeans off the ground to get the cell phone off of his belt.

"Goddammit," he muttered, and you heard the beep of him pressing a button. "What?" he answered. "Yeah, we're fine... She said yes... Thanks..." He was talking to Steve. You were sure of it with his annoyed, clipped answers. "We had time, so I brought her downtown... Yeah, we'll be back before then..." He loudly sighed. "With all the great shit that happened this morning, I was too busy enjoying time with my new fiancée to even think about calling anyone. Sorry... Okay, I gotta go... Bye." Another beep of him pressing the end call button and the phone dropping down to his jeans on the floor.

"Was he worried we hadn't gotten back?" you asked.

"Yeah."

"That's sweet."

"It's annoying."

The bed’s springs softly squeaked as he got onto it.

You smiled. "I think it's cute that Steve gets on your nerves as if he was your sibling—you love him, you'd take a bullet for him, but just the sound of him breathing aggravates you; Steve's your adopted brother."

His hand grabbed your ankle, rubbing his thumb over your skin.

"Maybe he is."

"He is. His kids call you tío (uncle), and you love them like they are your flesh and blood."

"I do."

"Yes, you do." Your eyes blinked open, moving to sit up on your elbows to see him sitting on the bed by your legs, his gaze meeting yours. "There are a lot of people who love you, Javi, and I'm happy our kids will have so much family."

He frowned, and you knew he was about to ask about your own, who'll be up in arms when they discover you’re engaged to him.

"I don't want to talk about it," you said before he could open his mouth. "This is a happy, horny time, and we're not gonna ruin the mood with my baggage—I gotta go to the bathroom." You started getting up, and he stopped you with his hand on your leg, your eyes meeting his.

"Mi familia es tu familia y te aman sin condiciones (My family is your family and they love you no matter what)—te amamos sin condiciones (we love you no matter what). Tu familia biológica no saben lo que se están perdiendo (Your biological family have no idea what they’re missing). Eres inteligente, hermosa, compasiva, y cómica (You’re smart, beautiful, compassionate, and funny)—eres increíble y si ellos no pueden ver eso, no los necesitas (you are incredible and if they can’t see that, you don’t need them).”

Emotion had your eyes burning. "Thank you," you said, leaning forward to touch his forearm. "I know you all love me, and I love you—it'll be nice when I can change my last name."

A little smile pulled up on his lips. "I can't wait to give you my last name—now, go pee.” He patted your leg. “We only have half an hour left, and I don't wanna waste a single minute."

"You know, you get really bossy when you're horny." You got off the bed on shaky legs, something you were used to, padding across the floor.

"Would you rather me be grumpy?" he called after you, making you laugh.

Stopping at the bathroom doorway near the room's door, your hand on the mahogany-colored wood, you looked over at him. "Grumpy-horny Javi is very hot, and I can expect to be railed senseless—like last night when you were mad about the squeaky bed and worked out your frustration by putting me face down, ass up, and fucking me hard. With bossy-horny Javi, I'm in for an insane amount of orgasms because you get all pleasure dommy and make it your life's purpose to make me come so many times, I look like a newborn giraffe when I try to walk afterward."

A short huff of air left his nose, and he looked amused.

"Is there a regular-horny Javi?" he asked.

"Yes.” You nodded. “Regular-horny Javi is usually stuck to me like glue and handsy before we get naked. The sex is very intimate and involves a lot of kissing, and we're so comfortable we sometimes chat and laugh in the middle of it."

He was giving you a fond smile. "That one's your favorite," he said.

You grinned. "Of course, and it's the horny Javi I get the majority of the time, so I am living the fucking dream."

"It's my favorite, too."

"Like, don't get me wrong, the last hour or so has been spectacular and some of your best work, but all the position changes had me feeling like we were filming a porno."

Something happened because he was suddenly giving you a blank stare, and it had your eyebrows cinching together. After a few seconds of silence, you spoke. "Javi?"

Saying his name had him coming back to himself with a slight shake of his head.

He said something so quietly you couldn't hear it from how far away you were.

"What?" you asked.

His eyes were on yours, and they'd gone darker.

"I'm buying a camcorder."

"Oh my god, Javier," you said in exasperation. "You're not buying a camcorder for the sole purpose of us making a dirty movie."

He was frowning. "I'd use it for other stuff—like our wedding and the birth of our kid."

"You're absolutely not recording me giving birth."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "No birthing video, got it. I still wanna record our wedding and some of the party. I'm sure there's a lot of other shit we'd wanna film."

"Uh-huh." You crossed your arms. "We've been together awhile, and you're just now deciding you should get a camcorder?"

"Yeah, seems like a great investment." He shrugged.

"Seems like a horny investment—you're ridiculous. Buy your camcorder, Mr. Amateur Porn Star." You walked into the bathroom and flicked on the light.

"Our homemade porno would be better than anything professionally made!" he shouted from the other room.

Javier was getting old, and he fucking hated it.

When the idea came to him to stop at the hotel, he thought two hours was more than enough time—he could fuck her over and over and over again to work it out of his system so he wouldn't be on edge the rest of the trip.

What he didn't account for, in his grand horny scheme, was his goddamn refractory period. It pissed him off that he wasn't ready to go again after five, ten minutes like it'd been in his twenties. No, on a good day, he was looking at fifteen, and most of the time, it was at least twenty. So, forty minutes out of their two stolen hours they had alone together, his dick didn't work.

It made him so fucking mad.

The time wasn't wasted—the first twenty minutes, he got to enjoy some post-sex cuddling, and they planned their wedding. The second time, the moment he could function, he was using his mouth and fingers to make her feel really fucking good.

This has never been an issue since they haven’t had a time constraint like this before. The few Saturdays where they spent the majority of the day tangled in their bed's sheets, it wasn't a big deal for them to take a fifteen to twenty-minute breather between rounds.

But in these two uninterrupted hours after the love of his life agreed to marry him and told him she was ready for them to start their family, revealing she was already off of her birth control, every minute counted; there was something in the back of his mind, an urge, that he needed to bury himself inside her and fuck his come as deep as possible—it was insatiable. He'd already finished twice, and it wasn't enough, and because he had to wait twenty fucking minutes to get hard again, there was only enough time for him to come once more.

Which was where they were now, with Javier kneeling on the bed while she straddled his hips, her arm around his neck, the other on the bed behind her for balance, his hands gripping her ass and helping her work herself up and down his cock.

His forehead was wet with sweat, feeling a drop slide down the side of his face, the rest of his body glistening. Exertion had grunts pushing from his throat, his mouth on hers smothering her moans.

He had already got one last orgasm out of her and was heading toward his own end. Her pussy was drooling all over his dick with the mixture of their come and her arousal, dripping down to coat his balls and fall onto the sheets—they were making a mess, and he planned to leave the housekeepers a big tip for all the trouble.

The familiar pressure was coiling deep in his gut, electricity igniting in his core, a telltale sign he was close. He broke the kiss and got both of her arms around his neck, making her squeak in surprise when he practically tackled her back onto the mattress, their bodies bouncing a little for a few seconds.

His hips were moving fast, hearing the wet smack of his body colliding with hers and his cock working in and out of her drenched cunt.

His teeth found her chin with a small amount of pressure while his eyes were closed, holding himself up with his arms bracketing her ears.

"Come for me, Javi," she breathlessly said, grabbing onto his ass, her fingers digging into the flexed muscles. "Come for me, baby." His face went into the crook of her neck, panting hot breaths against her skin. "You've fucked me so good today, Javi. I need you to come—fuck a baby into me."

Pleasure sliced through him like a burning knife, and he whined, his strokes speeding up.

"Anything," he panted. "I'll give you anything you want—you can have anything. I'm yours—" he was fuck drunk and rambling. "—I'm all yours, and I'll give you a baby—I'll get you pregnant. We'll have our baby. Fuck," he groaned.

All his nerves lit up, energy thrumming under his skin and sparking through his body. The knot in his belly was tightening, his rhythm becoming uneven until he was at the point of no return—he was coming, and nothing could stop him.

He pushed forward hard, sinking his dick inside her to the root as it jerked, and pleasure overtook him, raggedly moaning that dulled when he bit into her shoulder—his come gushed into her depths, his hips rolling to fuck it deeper before the oversensitivity made him hiss.

Something in the recesses of his brain was purring happily—satiated.

His body was blissfully relaxed, and he slumped onto the woman under him, feeling completely wrung out and thinking he might pass out.

"'m sorry," he mumbled into her neck. "Is this okay?"

Her fingers slid into his hair, and tingles shivered down his spine.

"It's fine, baby," she whispered. "But don't pass out—we have to leave."

The sound he made was a mix of a groan and whine. He was so comfortable he didn't want to move.

How mad would Steve and Connie be if they didn't go on the beach trip and stayed here for a few more hours?

"No," she said. "We're not ditching your friends." Of course, she knew what he was thinking.

"I don't wanna move." He actually whined this time.

"You knew we had two hours here, and that's it. We need to take a quick shower so it's not obvious we've been fucking, and then we gotta get back to Steve and Connie's because the kids are excited to go to the beach with you."

He nuzzled closer into her throat.

"'m comfy."

She pinched his asscheek hard, and he twitched.

"We're not disappointing the children, Javier. Now, get up." She smacked his ass.

"You're mean,” he grumbled.

"I'm not mean. I'm polite to our hosts. You're being a big whiny baby."

"Que mala que eres conmigo (You're so mean to me)."

"Yo tampoco soy mala en español (I'm not mean in Spanish either)."

He sighed. "Cinco minutos, por favor, mi amor (Five minutes, please, my love)."

"Bueno, cinco minutos por que eres lindo (Okay, you can have five minutes because you're cute)." The fingers on one of her hands scratched at his scalp, and her other hand rubbed over his back, a content sigh leaving him as he smiled.

She was so soft and warm beneath him, her scent filling his nose and soothing him.

Up until he met her, home was the ranch he grew up on—no matter where in the world he lived, it was always that house where his parents were, and he was welcome and loved.

Home was no longer a place.

Home was the woman he loved's arms wrapped around him; It was her grinning at him with that gorgeous smile; It was her perfect lips pressed to his; It was her delicate hand held in his larger palm; It was her beautiful eyes staring at him with all the love in the world.

Home was his Cielito, his little heaven.

And as long as he was with her, he was home.

His mind had drifted, and quickly, his consciousness went with it, too.

A loud snore erupted against your neck, the sudden noise causing you to jolt.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you whispered.

You explicitly told him not to pass out, you had even asked him after going to the bathroom if he should really go again because you had a feeling it’d put him to sleep, and he reassured you he’d be perfectly fine—the dirty fucking liar.

“Javi?” you said softly, lightly patting his back. “Wake up, babe. We have to get going, honey.”

His body tensed, and he sucked in a breath as he awoke immediately, his head raising to look at you with bleary eyes.

“Fuck.” His voice was hoarse. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Sure did, Sleeping Beauty.” You rubbed along his spine. “We gotta get up and leave. You can take a nap at the beach.”

His pouty lips were dipped low in a frown.

“With you…?”

You smiled, pushing some hair away from his face. "Is this one of those days where you can't go more than a few seconds without touching me?"

Those big brown eyes of his got bigger as he nodded.

In general, Javi was constantly touching you, but there were some days when he was practically stuck to you like a handsy octopus and went with you everywhere—except the bathroom, the one place you firmly told him, no, he couldn't come with you and hang out while you did your business.

"My cute, needy fiancé." You cupped his cheek. "I'll stay close if you need me to."

His head turned to kiss your palm. "I need you to."

"Okay, now let's get up."

A long, sad sigh exhaled from his lungs. "Fine," he said, leaning forward to peck you on the lips.

He moved then, his eyes closing for a moment as he pulled his soft length out of you, his hands sinking into the mattress when he pushed himself back and up with a grunt to kneel between your legs.

His gaze was stuck at the apex of your thighs, the lips of your sex puffy, and your hole starting to drip his come—two of his fingers scooped up what had dribbled out and pushed it back in, your mouth falling open.

His dark eyes locked on yours, his voice a deep, rough rasp when he spoke. "We don't want to waste any." He laid his other hand onto your lower abdomen, his digits spread wide to take up ample real estate over your womb. "We need to keep you full. Can you be my good girl and keep me inside?"

Pleasure zipped along your spine, your bottom lip pulling between your teeth as you nodded.

"Yes," you answered, putting a hand over his on your skin.

He picked up your smaller palm, his gaze dropping to the ring that made him smile, the pad of his thumb mapping the mountain range of diamonds before he lifted it to his lips in a kiss.

"Good," he said, setting your hand down and removing the fingers of his other from inside your pussy. You watched as he sucked the come-soaked digits into his mouth with a dirty groan at the taste. They came out licked clean from between his lips. "We taste so fucking good together," he told you, with his attention on you. "Let's shower, mi amor (my love). Then we can go and figure out what the fuck we're gonna tell Steve and Connie on the way."

"Are you saying they wouldn't appreciate us spending a dumb amount of money to fuck for a couple of hours instead of secretly getting busy under their roof?"

"They'll be happy we did it outside of their house, but it'd piss Steve off that we made them worry and didn't call to tell them we had other plans because we were too busy fucking."

You blew air out of the side of your mouth. "We just can't win with that guy."

"I told you he's fucking annoying."

"Eh—" You shrugged. "—he's just your brother from another mother, and you both find dumb shit to get annoyed about with each other. I wish I only got annoyed about dumb shit with my little brother, but he's actually an entitled dick because my parents gave him anything and everything he's ever wanted and kiss the ground he walks upon."

He was frowning now.

"Are you going to tell them?" he asked softly.

"About the engagement? Yeah, the next time my mom calls to make sure I'm not bringing any more shame on our family name—she's gonna be pissed, and I can feel it in my bones that it will cause me to go no contact with her and the rest of them."

His hand rubbed over your thigh. "I'm sorry." The remorse was heavy in his tone.

"Meh." You waved away his apology. "Nothing to be sorry about. I chose you, and I'd choose you again without hesitation. I couldn't care less if us getting married upsets them. We're happy, and that's all that matters."

"We are happy. I just feel like shit, I'm the reason your relationship with your family is so fucking strained."

"Javi, babe, the relationship has been strained long before we got together. You just gave me a reason to stick up for myself and not put up with their shit. Don't feel bad. You told me today your family is my family, and all of you is all I need."

"Promise?" he whispered.

You held out your pinky. "I pinky promise."

That made him smile, looping his around yours to make the sacred vow that he and his family were really all you needed—Javi leaning down, holding himself up with a hand on the bed beside you as he gave you a tender kiss.

Javier felt fucking amazing and exhausted.

Did he overdo it? Probably. His back was already a little achier than usual, and he imagined it'd feel even worse the next day. The fantastic sex was worth the backache and pain in his knees, especially with how his future wife had the post-good sex glow about her that made his chest puff out a little.

She had a point that a shower was needed before they left the hotel room so they didn't reek of sex, which they quickly took after getting up.

One twenty-dollar bill was put on top of the hotel notepad sitting on the desk that Javier had scribbled, 'Thank you,' as they left. The bedding had been stripped from the bed and put in one pile, while their used towels were in another.

The same person who checked them in, checked them out, and, from the look on her face, didn’t buy their lie that they were leaving so early due to a family emergency—it was probably Cielito trying to sell it by saying they had to rush to the hospital because his nephew had been viciously attacked by a… duck.

They were driving on the freeway, her hand in his, resting on her legging-covered thigh.

"A duck?" he asked. They'd been silent up until now, but he needed to know where that came from. "We're in Florida where there are actual dangerous wild animals like fucking alligators and sharks—hell, a dog woulda made sense, and you said my fake nephew was attacked by a duck?"

"Oh my god, Javier," she groaned, covering her eyes with her spare hand. "I know it was stupid, but I was super uncomfortable with the looks the employees were giving me."

He frowned. "What looks?" He glanced over at her, and her hand lowered to meet his eyes.

"The extremely judgey, disgusted looks because they thought I was a working girl—the mistaken identity was fine; that didn't bother me. It was how they looked at me like I was less of a person than them." She was frowning. "It just made me feel so bad for actual working girls who have to deal with that bullshit on the daily."

"Fuck." He focused back on the road. "I'm sorry you went through that, and I shouldn't have put you in that spot." He sighed, untangling their hands to push his shower-damp hair back with his hand. "I've been so caught up in you wearing the ring and assuming other people would notice it, too, that it didn't even cross my mind how us only spending a couple of hours at a hotel would look."

She sounded amused when she spoke. "It's adorable that you assume everyone knows we're engaged and figured the hotel employees thought we were just an incredibly horny couple instead of a lady of the night with her John."

If people weren't tipped off she was his fiancée with the ring on her finger, then he was going to start telling every person they came in contact with, so there wasn’t any more confusion in the future—giddiness bubbled up inside him over the thought of eventually getting to introduce her as his wife.

If he’d been wearing a ring, she wouldn’t have been put in that situation; it would’ve been clear as day they were married…

“Marry me,” he said, quickly looking over at her.

She giggled. “I’ve already agreed to marry you.”

“No—“ He shook his head. “—I know I said I was fine waiting a few months for our wedding, but I fucking can’t—I wanna marry you as soon as possible." His attention went forward once more, nerves fluttering in his gut.

She reached to grab his hand and held it in both of hers.

"You know there are a lot of men who dread their wedding day. They're the guys who call their wives 'balls and chains,' like being married is comparable to being in jail and an all-around nuisance even though they're the ones who proposed in the first place. The fact you're impatient to marry me makes me very happy—you're excited about our wedding day and don't see marriage as you losing your freedom; you see it as a guarantee you'll spend the rest of your life with the person you love."

He smiled. "Yeah," he said. "That's right."

"Regarding marrying me as soon as possible—my heart's set on the wedding at the tree we discussed. We can talk to your dad when we get home and see if he wants to get ordained. If he doesn't, then we'll go to the courthouse, make it official, and we can throw a party later. If your dad wants to officiate, I say we give it a month to get everything worked out with him and at the ranch."

A month at most. He could wait a month, right?

"Okay," he said, glancing toward her. "I'm fine with that."

She grinned. "Great. So, what's our story about where we've been since this morning?"

He looked at the road. "It won't be that we were viciously attacked by a duck..."

“Oh my god!”

It took them a bit to come up with something pretty believable—after spending a considerable amount of time at the beach, Javier gave her a tour of the area and took her exploring by foot around downtown. It was plausible.

They'd made sure they looked put together before leaving the hotel so it didn't raise any suspicions when they returned to their friends.

Arriving at the Murphy's, happy squeals could be heard as Javier unlocked the front door, and for a split second, he imagined a future where it wasn't his niece and nephews who were excited he was home, but his own children; the thought of his kids being unable to control their volume because they were just so happy to see him had warmth spreading through his body to the tips of his fingers to his toes.

The moment he stepped foot into the house, a three-year-old was screaming excitedly, "Tío!" and little arms hugged his legs as best they could.

Javier smiled, bending with a groan, saying, "Mi principito (My little prince)." He picked up the child, holding him in his arm while he toed off his black leather Chelsea boots in front of a shoe rack filled to the brim with children’s and adult shoes, Cielito following him inside and shutting the door.

"Are we going to the beach, tío?" Stevie asked, looking up at him.

"Yeah, bud—” He tickled the child’s belly, making him laugh and squirm. “—in a little bit."

He heard the pattering of feet before he saw the oldest of the kids running into the room they were in.

"You're back!" Olivia said with a big smile. "We can finally go to the beach!"

Steve had walked in.

"Sorry, we got back so late, mi tesorito (my little treasure)." Javier apologized to the young girl.

"And where were you?" Steve asked.

His friend’s eyes were narrowed in suspicion when their gazes met. Javier moved Stevie into his other arm so he could pull Cielito into his side, keeping his hand on her hip.

"The beach, then I gave my fiancée a tour of the city, and we walked around everywhere."

Steve's eyes narrowed further. "Bullsh—crap." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Where were you really?"

Javier's jaw clenched. "I just told you, and I'm not gonna repeat myself, so drop it."

"Olivia, baby girl, take your brother to the family room. I need to have an adult ears-only conversation with your tío Javi."

The nine-year-old looked confused but came forward and took the younger child from him.

"Come on, Stevie," she said, heading out of the room. "We'll hang out with tío more later. Let's go watch cartoons."

Their father looked over his shoulder, watching them depart, and once they were out of earshot, he was rounding on Javier.

"You asshole," he harshly whispered. "Walking around downtown, my ass." He stepped forward and tugged on Javier's shirt collar. "These hickies tell me you were doing a hell of a lot more than walking." Shit, Javier batted away his hand, glaring at the blonde man. "What if you'd gotten caught, where? In the back of that rental? You just expected I'd bail you out of jail? Were you even thinking with your brain? Or just with your dick?"

Anger was sizzling in his gut, along with shame, because they had almost gotten caught, and there was a chance Steve would’ve had to bail them out.

"I told you to drop it.” The sentence was gritted through his teeth as he seethed, his wif-fiancée putting a comforting hand on his back and rubbing circles.

"I'm not gonna drop it, 'cause what would I have told the kids if you'd gotten caught?" he asked, crossing his arms back over his chest.

That was a low blow, and it pissed him off even more.

"Well, we didn't get fucking caught, and for your information—" He jabbed his finger into the center of Steve's chest. "—I was thinking with my brain—I've been holed up in a hotel for the last two hours with my fiancée, you fucking prick."

A humorless huff left his friend, his eyes wide in disbelief. "You horny fucker—you're joking."

Javier's hand went to his waist, lifting his eyebrow. "You wanna see the receipt? You’d think we were at the fucking, uh, Ritz or whatever the fuck luxury hotel with how much they charged for one night when this place didn’t even have fucking room service."

The other man chuckled, shaking his head. He met his gaze. "You know what? I forgive you for making us worry." He clapped a hand on Javier's shoulder, giving him a beaming smile. "Congratulations, Javi. I’m happy for you guys and get it. You were excited and wanted to be alone with the woman you’re marrying. I don't blame you for spending hours in a hotel room.” His smile shifted to something smarmy. “I sure as hell don't want you doing that shit here, and it's not like you can with how goddamn squeaky the guest bed is."

Javier wanted to wipe the smug smile off his old partner’s face.

"Hey, Steve?" Cielito cut in.

His friend looked at her. "Yeah?"

"Have you seen the first Jurassic Park movie?"

The blonde man's eyebrows pulled together. "I have." He nodded. "A few times."

She smiled. "Then you know, life finds a way."

God, he loved her, and he loved that she enjoyed messing with his best friend as much as he did—Javier snorted and kissed the side of her head.

Steve looked confused until it dawned on him what she meant.

"No," he whispered in denial.

"Yes," Javier replied, smirking, the other man facing him.

"But the bed..."

It was Javier’s turn to clap a hand onto his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Steve… But the fact you think a bed is the only place to fuck, tells me you’re a really boring and bad lay—need me to give you some pointers?”

“I quite enjoyed what we did on the chair,” Cielito said. “And my god, Javi is always amazing, but he brought his A-game on the floor. You put some blankets and pillows on the stone tiles, and they’re not too bad to be fucked on.”

Steve’s face had slowly gotten redder and redder as they spoke, and Javier was worried the man’s head would explode, especially with how he couldn’t say anything, his blue eyes big and mouth opening and closing like a fish in a bowl.

“What we’re saying, man,” Javier said, patting the blonde man’s shoulder. “Is when you’re horny enough, you’ll find a way.” He looked over at his fiancée, and her expression showed she was just as delighted as he felt. “From the sound of it, the guest bathroom hasn’t seen any action.”

Her eyes were on his. “A travesty—it’s a law that every room in the house has to be christened. Don’t worry, Steve—“ Her attention moved to the man in front of them, reaching to pat his arm. “—we know a bathroom is too exotic of a locale for you, so we’ll take one for the team and break it in; there’s no need to thank us.”

His former partner finally found his voice.

"Connie!" Steve yelled, his upper body turning, along with his head, to look behind him.

"Yeah?!" she answered from the kitchen.

"Everything in the guest room has to go! It all needs to be burned, and the guest bathroom is getting that remodel you wanted!”

She walked out of the kitchen with a small dish towel in her hands.

“You said we couldn’t afford to remodel the guest bath...”

“Well, I’m gonna figure out where we can add it into our budget ‘cause it’s happening, along with all new furniture in that room and linen. We also gotta have the floors sanitized.”

She looked past her husband at the two of them.

“He found out y’all messed around in there?”

“Yes,” they answered in unison.

She nodded in understanding and straightened.

“You’re so right, baby,” she said, agreeing too easily. “We have to remodel that entire back bedroom and bathroom now. It’s the only choice we have.”

“I’m happy you agree,” her husband said seriously. “We’ll toss all the bedding when they leave.”

“Except for the throw pillows. I really like those pillows and can have them professionally cleaned.”

“Of course, honey.”

Cielito leaned into him and whispered in his ear while his friends continued speaking, “Did we just inadvertently help Connie bamboozle Steve into doing a house project she’s been wanting done?”

“I think so,” he said just as quietly. “I’m happy to help after all she’s done for us.”

“Agreed. We’ll have to ask if she needs us to fuck anywhere else in or outside the house.”

“Or her van if she wanted a new one.”

“True. She just found a cheat code to get stuff she wants.”

“Will we be like this when we’re married?”

“Javi, babe, you give me anything I want if I ask—I don’t need a cheat code. It’s the same for you with me. If either of us wants anything, the other will do whatever they can to make it happen. Also, we’re equals in our relationship, whereas Steve thinks he’s the man of the house and in charge of everything, but it’s really Connie who runs the show and knows how to play him, like with this guest bedroom remodel. She’s crafty, and I highly respect her. So, no, we won’t be like this because I wouldn’t have or want to manipulate you to do my bidding.”

“Marry me.”

She giggled.

“I’m already marrying you, you goober.” She playfully slapped his arm, and he grabbed her hand, bringing it up to kiss her knuckles as he stared into her eyes.

“Marry me again.”

“Then yes, I’ll double marry you.”

He smiled. “Good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And with how she was looking at him, he knew she meant every word, and it made him feel so happy there was a chance he’d float away.

This was real love.

This was the kind of love that wraps around you tight and never lets go.

The kind of love that can handle anything life throws at it since they’re stronger together.

The kind of love that lasts forever, even after their souls leave this earth. Their story will be remembered for eternity by the stars up above.

This was real love.

It was true love, and it was their love.

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wntrs0ldier · 4 months

Text

AN OFFER II · 04

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,4k warnings: mafia, language, violence, mature themes, dark themes, smut, punishing, spanking, edging, toxic behavior,

Bucky brought his hand up to your face. “You know I won’t hurt you,” he said. His hand slid a little lower; it gripped your jaw, and his fingers dug almost painfully into your cheeks. “But,” he licked his lips, shrugging, “you lied to me. And you won't get away with it.”

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The situation you got yourself into was strikingly similar to your last date with John Walker — you were sitting in a fancy restaurant, trying not to show how much you needed some man's favor. There were also a few differences; seated in front of you was not John, but Adrian Lancy, it was not about a marriage proposal and your future, but the future of your gallery, and most importantly, Bucky had no idea about any of this. Although, he knew you were going out — he would have noticed your disappearance anyway — but you told him you were having dinner with Connie. You didn't think Bucky would want to make sure that was really the case, but you preferred to be safe than sorry, and asked your friend to lie if necessary. Connie didn't even think about it; she agreed before you finished your sentence.

Earlier, you didn't see Adrian as a threat — he didn't seem like someone who would go too far to get his way. Nevertheless, you were all smiles between the meals. Why? Because facing the fact that you had a husband, rather than just imagining it, caused some unexplained change in him, and from a sensible young man you were pinning your hopes on, he became someone gripped by a obsession; his propositions for meetings sounded a little more aggressive, lost their previous lightness, and you eventually grew afraid. Not about yourself — whenever the ring on your finger entered your field of vision, you forgot about any fear. It seemed to you that no one could hurt you, not when you bore the name of Barnes.

But the gallery was different.

“I'm going to Paris soon,” Adrian began. “On business, of course, not for pleasure,” he added, as if you were to take him for a man who has nothing to do but travel.

“Mhmm.”

“I thought you could come with me,” he continued. Surprised by the processes that must have occurred in his mind, you raised your eyebrows. “You know about art,” he hurried to clarify, “and I'd love to buy some pieces for my new apartment. I will pay you for this service.”

“You know that there are people you can actually hire for this. People you won't spend that much on.” You tilted your head to the side, watching him carefully. “Because I am expensive. Very expensive,” you said, hoping to discourage him.

“I want you.”

“Adrian…” you sighed. “I can't come to Paris with you just like that.”

Not hiding his disappointment, he pressed his lips tightly together. “Well,” he shrugged casually, “if you don't go with me, you won't see any more of my money. And I'll make sure that no one will ever invest in you again. In short, I will destroy you, Y/N. So you'd better think it over and give me an answer by the end of the week.”

Refusing to let any negative expression cast a shadow on your face, you watched him. You couldn't give him the satisfaction, even if, when agreeing to this meeting, you didn't expect it to turn out this way. The change you feared earlier had just taken a full turn — much faster than you thought. “Sure.” You forced a sweet smile. “I’ll think about it.”

A waiter appeared at the table. At first you thought it was just a routine check; that he was making sure you weren't missing anything. Only after you gave him a little more conscious attention did you notice a bottle of wine in his hands. A very expensive bottle. As if Adrian wanted to let you know that he had the resources you needed, and that he was spending his fortune on something as unnecessary as wine, which was only meant to impress.

But Adrian seemed confused, too. “There must be some mistake. I didn’t order any wine.”

“I was told it is from Mr. Barnes.”You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling an unpleasant warmth spilling all over your stomach. You stared at the bottle in a stupor. So he knew — Bucky knew very well where you were, which meant he also knew who you were with.

You weren't sure how long you had been standing in front of the door to your apartment, but eventually realized that such behavior qualified as absurd — the accompanying fear, that you had been convinced you lacked only a few hours earlier, was undoubtedly irrational. Or at least that's what you had to trick yourself into thinking in order to finally grab the door handle.

You hung up your purse on a hanger and slipped the high heels off your feet. You were able to name at least five much scarier situations that had occurred in your entire life, yet you couldn't recall the last time you felt this kind of anxiety. You didn't even understand where it was coming from; after all, Bucky cared about you; he couldn't harm you.

When you turned around, ready to go deeper into the apartment, Bucky was standing at the end of the hall, right by the exit. His damp hair, loose t-shirt and sweatpants, fresh wounds on his knuckles indicated that he must have been after training with Steve. You swallowed hard at the thought that Bucky, having found out where and with whom you were actually spending time, needed to beat something, in this case, fortunately, a punching bag.

“Was it good?” Bucky asked, approaching you slowly. “The wine,” he clarified. Without taking your eyes off him, you nodded cautiously, causing him to squint. “What is it?” His mouth curved into a playful smirk. “You’re not scared, are you?”

“I can’t really tell…”

You gawked at him — at the stern expression on his face, at his darkened eyes and reddened, slightly parted mouth. Whatever he intended, you could feel yourself getting wet.

He grabbed your wrist; it ached from the power of the pressure Bucky wielded, but the feeling only intensified the sensation. He dragged you behind him, and you almost tripped over your own feet — he wasn't walking that fast; it was your limbs that seemed frail and numb.

“Bed,” Bucky commanded as soon as you reached the bedroom. Massaging your sore wrist by instinct, you went in that direction, your steps wobbly. You settled on the middle of the mattress. Bucky came closer. “Turn around.”

Captivated by his massive, heavy frame, under which you hoped you were about to end up, fascinated by the calmness and dominance he radiated, you couldn’t stop looking at him.

“Turn around,” he said again, much slower than before. “I’m not gonna ask you again.”

Your mouth went dry. Finally obeying his order — not in fear of the consequences, but looking forward to further development of the situation — you turned around. Bucky placed his hand between your shoulder blades and with pressure forced you to lean forward; so you landed on your knees, additionally supporting your hands on the mattress.

He lifted your dress above your hips, a quiet snort escaped his mouth. “You fucking kidding me?” Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly, shaking his head, hooking his fingers under the hems of the lace pants you were wearing. He pulled the material lower, completely exposing your ass, sending a wave of heat over your entire body.

You got up one knee first, then the other, making it easier for Bucky to strip you of your underwear. Then, he grabbed a piece of your dress and pulled you to him; as your hands detached from the mattress, he reached for them and tied tightly with your pants. The fabric, digging into your wrists, turned out to give you a surprising amount of pleasure.

Bucky pushed you forward again, this time far harder. Deprived of the possibility to support yourself, the front of your body fell on the bed, while your ass still remained up. All you could do was turn your head to the side — other than that, you were completely helpless, dependent on his mercy.

It seemed, however, that he didn't have any for you. You realized this when you felt a sharp, piercing pain, accompanied by a loud clap — Bucky’s hand landed on your ass cheek, and it landed hard. Shocked by this new and unfamiliar sensation, you shouted, your eyes filled with tears.

Bucky spanked you again. Your body trembled, and only a muffled gasp came out of your mouth this time.

Another slap — you felt your skin burning and stinging in that spot, getting more and more tender; you were painfully aware of this as his hand, once again, smacked your ass rapidly. You moaned, your back arching, your pussy almost dripping, asking to be filled. But that sweet torture was nearly as good.

“More?” he rasped, breathing heavily. You weren't sure how to respond; he was punishing you, so if you asked for more, would he actually give you what you wanted? And if you refused, would he stop?

“Y/N,” Bucky pressed.

“More,” you replied quickly, your voice weak.

“More what?”

At that moment, your mind wasn't in the best place for the logical, coherent sentences he always expected from you. “I want you to spank me more. Please,” you exhaled.

“You don’t wanna talk, so I’ll make you use your words. Make that pretty mouth of yours work.”

Bucky fulfilled your request, and you almost jumped up on the mattress, clamped your eyelids shut and let out a loud whine — that one was definitely stronger than the others, causing goosebumps all over your heated body.

The bed sunk behind you, signaling his arrival. The t-shirt he had thrown off landed silently somewhere on the floor. Your lips parted, releasing a long moan as the tip of his cock brushed hard against your wet, throbbing cunt. He buried into your core painfully slowly and lazily; you felt his hardness spreading inside you, filling all the space you could give him.

Bucky clenched his hands on your hips and began to thrust into you. The pain radiating from your cheeks mixed with the surging pleasure, creating a combination you could quickly become addicted to. Gasping loudly, he pounded into you again and again; immediately he reached to your head, slipped his fingers into your hair and tightened them there. He turned your head to the side so he could see at least part of your face — the changes taking place on it. He wanted to control your pleasure. Because as you, stimulated by spanking and waiting, began to get closer to an orgasm faster than you could expect, Bucky suddenly stopped. He slid out, leaving behind only emptiness and a devastating lack of satisfaction.

“Jamie, please-” you choked out.

“Don’t Jamie me,” Bucky replied sternly. He leaned forward, putting the weight of his body on yours. He pulled your head slightly away from the mattress, his mouth hanging right next to your ear. “You lied to me today, Y/N.”

You nodded immediately, ready to agree to everything he wanted.

“You know that what you did was wrong? Hmm?”

“Yes. Yes, I know. And I'm sorry.”

“I don't want your sorry. I want you to never lie to me again. You are my wife and I won't have it, do you understand?” he said, the words seeping out through his teeth.

“I understand, but please-”

Bucky clenched his fingers harder in your hair. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“You promise what, Y/N?” he inquired impatiently, although at that moment it seemed like he had all the time in the world.

Taking another deep breath, you gathered the strength and all the concentration you had in you to say those few words he cared so much about. “I-I promise to never lie to you again.”

Bucky moved slightly away, left a kiss on the nape of your neck, then straightened up. He entered you again, and again you felt that blissful fullness. At first you got the impression that he was still fucking some discipline into you, but the rising sensations made you think that he was actually rewarding you for understanding your mistake and promising to do better.

In that position — with your hips up — his dick quickly found the right spot and hit exactly where it needed to. Wet, well lubricated with all your juices, it was sliding in and out smoothly, bringing you more rapture than you could beg for. With loud, desperate cries, you were praying to your god, taking his name in vain — the one who was just fucking you senseless. Because Bucky couldn’t be just a human; he was too perfect, too beautiful, too merciful as he forgave your sins.

You clenched around his cock, your eyes rolled back as consciousness left your mind. Apart from the overwhelming release, you also felt Bucky's load spilling into you; he, too — with a few last thrusts — let out a few whimpers, crowned by a throaty growl, and his body slumped against yours. His chest, pressed to your back, rose and fell as he tried to normalize his breathing. He pulled away from you to free your wrists as quickly as possible; your hands dropped lifelessly, too weak and too useless.

“Let’s clean you up, hmm?” Bucky suggested; surprisingly gently for the man he was just a moment ago.

“I want to stay here,” you muttered with half of your face still in the bed sheets. Once again you felt his body pressing against yours as laid a tender kiss behind your ear.

You woke up to an empty bed.

Your sore body covered with a blanket, the curtains closed. The watch on the nightstand said four in the morning.

The urgent need to use the toilet dissuaded you from further sleep. You didn't feel fully awake until you were in the shower — as the warm water washed over your body, you wondered where Bucky had gone at such an early hour. You hoped that three months of hard work in Italy would give him some more space here in New York.

You got out of the shower, removed the remnants of your makeup, brushed your teeth, then returned to the bedroom. Curiosity was stronger than tiredness, besides, you felt rested enough, maybe even too awake for any more sleep. You put on one of Bucky's t-shirts, rummaged from his side of the closet, and left the room. You didn't have to search for long — the warm glow pouring out of the living room immediately caught your attention.

Bucky was sitting on the couch — under the light of the lamp standing over him, he was looking through some papers scattered on the coffee table. Full concentration on his face, marked by a deep wrinkle between his brows.

“What are you doing?” you spoke.

He glanced up at the sound of your voice. “Checking the account statements from Sapphire Dune and Marble Aurora.” Rubbing his eye, Bucky sighed with clear tiredness.

Your forehead creased as the names of your father’s casinos rang in your ears. You haven't thought about them once lately, so you wouldn't expect it from Bucky either. On the other hand, your Family's affairs were now his concern.

With your arms folded across your chest, you walked closer to the couch and peeked at the documents. “Something wrong with them..?”

“No,” he assured, smiling softly. “They’re doing really… decently.”

“So maybe I should stick to them…” you murmured.

Bucky raised his eyebrows, watching you with a surprise. He reached out his hand to you in an inviting gesture. You took it and sat down right next to him; so close that your thighs touched. He didn’t say a word, waiting for you to tell him everything that was bothering you.

“I lied to you earlier too,” you confessed. “I lied that I don’t need money. And it’s not like I have to close the gallery in a week or something, but…” You gasped. “Some funding is always useful. And Adrian seemed like the perfect sponsor until-” you hesitated, shrugging. “But now he is acting weirder than ever and-”

“Did he do something to you?” Bucky asked right away, interrupting you.

“No, he didn’t,” you protested. “A couple hours ago, he offered me a trip to Paris,” you began, and Bucky’s forehead furrowed at those words. “He said no one will ever invest in the gallery again if I turn him down. And I can't afford it, I can't ask for your money, because I want to make money, not take it out of the house-”

“Y/N, you make money,” Bucky claimed, demonstratively lifting one of the papers. “It's all here,” he added, his brows drew together. “Besides, is using my — our — money really worse than selling your time to this fucking creep?”

Feeling more and more resigned, you let out a heavy breath. “Bucky…”

“You don't like him, you don't feel comfortable around him, the business isn't going as you would like it to. Or am I wrong?” He was looking at you expectantly, although he didn't actually need any confirmation — he saw the answer written all over your face. He touched your cheeks, his fingers spread on your skin, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones. “You are my wife, and it is my job to take care of you. You have to let me do exactly that, Y/N.”

Staring relentlessly into his eyes, filled with sincerity and concern, you took his hand off your face and placed a tender kiss inside it, brushing your lips over the scar there; the scar bonding you forever. “Okay,” you whispered.

You pulled your legs up onto the couch and snuggled into his side. Bucky put his arm around you and rested his cheek on the top of your head.

A silence settled in, filled only with your peaceful breathing — it didn't bother you or Bucky, since neither of you felt the need to break it. You thought it would be much more difficult; that you would need far more time to get used to him, especially after his last absence. But having a huge couch with plenty of space to occupy, you decided to deprive yourself of whatever space there was.

“Are you going to elaborate, in any way, on what you did to me earlier..?”

“Elaborate…” Bucky repeated. He exhaled, blowing some of the air out of his lungs, then rested his head on the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I've wanted to do it since that night when I saw you in that little nightgown of yours.” He raised his brow. “And that's about it.”

You sat up straight, your eyes on Bucky’s face. “That night?” you asked in disbelief. “As a punishment for what?”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “Did it really feel like a punishment to you?”

Even if you were able to answer him without hesitation, you looked away to think about it. Or pretend to think about it. You bit your lip.

“Did it feel good..?” Bucky inquired, his tone gentle and careful.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Very good,” you said, not sure if you should really admit it. “We can do it more often,” you suggested, and Bucky’s eyebrows rose instantly. Taken slightly aback, he peered at you with sudden liveliness, his eyes sparked with fascination that struck him like a speeding train. “What?” you laughed softly, but then understood something — you always sensed a gentle restraint in him, keeping him in check; the chains holding him down. Now, you were able to hear them break. Was it you who destroyed them? Your innocent permission?

Bucky smirked, shaking his head, letting you know he wasn’t going to be too harsh on you. But as harsh as you’d allow him to be.

He leaned forward, putting his forearms on his knees, and reached for one of the papers so he could return to analyzing the documents. You clung to his back, placing your chin on his shoulder blade. He immediately located his free hand on your arm, wrapped around his torso.

“Go back to bed,” he said, his eyes still focused on the statements.

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No, of course not,” Bucky assured right away, “but aren’t you tired, sunshine?” He turned his head as far as he could to glance at you at least from the corner of his eye. Taking the opportunity, you stretched out further, to reach his face, and planted a few quick but tender pecks on his cheek, making him laugh softly.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leaaa008 @itvy5601 @melsunshine @pattiemac1 @marvel-fandom23 @rabbitrabbit12321 @xsecretsirenx @heyyitsreign @xhollycowx @samfreakingwinchester @thrnlvr @samjuarezzz @loustan90 @kandis-mom @abaker74 @gabshouse @casa-boiardi @globetrotter28 @fand0mskullfa1ry @iateall-yourcookies @swordofawriter @theroyalmanatee @midnightvitality @thebuckybarnesvault @milanaasblog @itsmytimetoodream @talesofadragon @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @bbiaa420 @funkybarnes @sebastians-love @walkingwithoutreason @hereticdance @abitofblues @purple-vegan @queenashen @oqueano @yourdryadwife @lethallyprotected @abbyyourlocalmilf @sapphirebarnes @matchat3a

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seeingivy · 5 months

Text

lovesick

actor!eren x reader

**part of my method acting series

an: come get yall juice

songs mentioned: lovesick by laufey!

previous part linked here

Ten minutes later and you’re all standing outside the house, as the blaring fire truck pulls up to the curb. And you give everyone an awkward sheepish smile, as you all shiver in the cold November night, as the firefighters march into the house.

It seems that in your efforts to be…..symbolic, you accidentally set the fire alarm off.

Which has the group of you outside, freezing in the November cold, as you wait for them to exit the house and safely turn the alarm off.

“Right. So what exactly were you doing, Y/N?” Levi seethes, irritatedly rubbing his biceps in the cold of the night. He’s heroically given up his jacket for Hange, whose currently teasing Sasha and Niccolo about something.

“Why do you think its me?” you respond.

“It came from that room. And I know damn well Colt and Porco aren’t stupid enough to do something like that.” Levi responds.

“Hey. Porco is plenty stupid.”

“I heard that.” Porco grumbles.

You shoot him a smile, as he walks over with Colt and the two of them reach forward to shove you. You shove back, the three of you laughing into the night as Levi grumbles some more about firefighters and the bills and walks away.

“Colt. I’m cold.” you murmur.

“Okay. Why don’t you go ahead and start another fire to generate some warmth?” Colt responds, glaring.

“Or you could just be a good big brother and give me your jacket?” you respond, giving him a big smile.

“Absolutely not, twerp. You literally set my room, that you are not welcome in, on fire.” Colt states.

“Where else am I supposed to sleep? Do you want me to cuddle up with Eren?”

Colt glares, before shoving you and responding.

“Share with Mikasa. Stop being a little baby bitch about the maid of honor thing.”

“I’m not being a baby bitch!” you respond.

“You kind of are, love.” Porco responds.

“You keep your stupid British butt out of this, innit love. I just don’t want to make her uncomfortable. She wants to room with her fiance and I’m going to let her.” you respond, mimicking Porco’s British accent.

“Oh yeah. That’s why the two of you keep giving each other wistful, longing looks whenever you’re around each other. You’d think it was the two of you getting married.” Colt spits back, his breath materializing in the cold air.

Colt aggressively rattles your head one last time before moving to where Gabi and Falco were standing as Porco makes a gesture to take his jacket off. Which has you yanking him by the ear and fervently whispering in his ear.

“Are you fucking stupid?” you whisper.

“Eh?” Porco responds.

“If you are trying to romance Pieck, why are you giving me your jacket?”

“You were just bitching about how you were cold.” Porco deadpans.

“Well, go find out if she’s bitching about being cold. And give her your jacket. Must I do everything for you?” you respond, pinching his ear harder.

Porco, you are quick to find out, has the same romantic capabilities as a valencia orange. Which means that in all the time you’ve spent freeloading in their room, Porco has enlisted your help in romancing Pieck, who has caught his eye.

Porco rolls his eyes as he walks over, and you shoot him a satisfied smile when Pieck wraps his jacket around her cold arms, particularly pink in the cheeks as the two of them talk in the cold.

Eren, Connie, Jean, and Mikasa, however, are not aware of this. Which has the four of them, particularly Eren, groaning from ten feet away at the sight of the two of you together, giving each other warm smiles in the cold.

“Imagine losing the love of your life to a British guy. Twice.” Connie states.

“Shut up.” Eren grumbles, shoving him in the side.

“First he colonizes your country and then your girlfriend?” Jean asks.

“She’s not my girlfriend, need I remind you.” Eren responds, glaring.

“Just when we thought Y/N was done with London Boys…” Connie adds, earning an angry shove from both Eren and Mikasa.

“The British are coming, Eren! The British are coming!” Jean screams, saluting Miksasa and Eren.

“He’s not from London, dumbass.” Mikasa responds.

“Her kid’s first word is going to be bruv…” Connie adds, putting on the thickest accent he can muster.

“They’re not having kids!” Eren groans.

“You guys are so mean! Leave Eren alone, you know how much it must hurt him to see something like that. Especially when he’s been so lonely and-”

“Wow. Thank you, Mikasa. Your defense of me is so moving.” Eren states.

Eren rolls his eyes, as the group of them snicker at his response, and they all immediately wrap their arms around him. A common habit the three of them have, knowing damn well that Eren’s mind is the worst place to be at times, and that sometimes their presence and stupid jokes is enough to put a damper on that internal monologue that plagues Eren constantly.

“Go fight for your girl, Eren. She doesn’t even know what you did for her.” Mikasa states.

“Correction. What I tried to do for her. And you go fight for your best friend. Who should be your maid of honor instead of that rodeo clown, Amy, by the way.”

“Hey.” Mikasa states, glaring at him.

“I swear to god, my feet have bruises from when we practiced walking down the aisle. I’m going to be in a wheelchair by the time we make it to the wedding, Mika.”

“You’re just saying that because you want Y/N to be walking down with you instead of Amy.” Mikasa counters.

“Well, yes. Obviously. But even besides that, do you really want Amy to be at your side during your wedding, Mikasa? Y/N is your best friend. Mind you, this wedding wouldn’t even be happening without me and her. We’re the only reason you guys got to have all those sleepovers back in the day.”

“You’re full of shit, Eren. You’re acting like you didn’t benefit from those sleepovers either.” Jean counters.

“No one had a sleepover with me. Which is just fucking rude in my opinion.” Connie adds, rather unhelpfully.

Eren frowns, as he looks over at you. Your head is angled up, staring at the stars littered across the sky and the tiniest crescent moon shining down on all of you. Eren swallows hard, trying his best to aid you in your efforts to make amends.

“I’m just saying, Mikasa. This is your wedding. You only get married once ….do you really not want her to be a part of it?” Eren asks.

Eren watches Mikasa, at the wistful look on her face, as she watches you stand there alone, crunching the rocks under your feet as you hop in the cold of the night. Eren gives Mikasa one last pointed glare before walking over and standing at your side.

“Hi Margaret.”

“Hi Bruce.” you respond.

“Did you pick up arson as a hobby in your free time?” he asks.

“Of course! Arson is good for the environment. I’m very passionate about climate change.” you respond, earning a laugh from him.

“How so?”

“Fires stimulate new growth. Recycles nutrients in the ground, clears the forest floors of debris, and opens it up to sunlight.” you murmur.

“Oh, yeah. Porco’s carpet is really flourishing right now.” Eren responds.

“Exactly! You get me.” you respond, as the two of you laugh into the night.

Eren’s quick to take his own jacket off, wrapping it around your shoulders, as you give him a glare.

“Just when I think you’ve reached the peaks of your cornniness, you always seem to astound me, Eren Jaeger.”

“What can I say? I’m an overachiever, princess.” Eren responds, pinching the softness of your cheek.

The two of you laugh as you both smile at each other, in the chill of the night. He’s about to speak, but on cue, the firefighters walk out of the house and you both get distracted, running to huddle back into the house. Levi murmurs something about hot chocolate, which has the group of you jumping in excitement, as you all settle into the kitchen and the dining table.

And as always, Falco is scribbling some mess in his notebook, something you’ve found him doing almost everyday this week. You slide into the seat across from him and Niccolo, giving Gabi a polite smile at your side, as you look up at him.

“Hi Coco.”

“Hi Y/N.”

“What are you up to?” you ask.

Like a deer caught in headlights, Falco immediately slams the book shut and gives Gabi and Niccolo painstaking glares before awkwardly laughing.

“Nothing! Drawing!” Falco rambles.

“Are you doing nothing or are you drawing?” you ask.

“Nothing. I’m doing nothing.” he responds.

You give Gabi and Niccolo a pointed glare.

“You would tell me if he was writing my name a hundred times in the Death Note, right?”

Gabi and Niccolo laugh, as Gabi and Falco immediately run off for their hot chocolate and you move to Niccolo’s side. The group of them join you with their steaming cups of hot chocolate and you shoot Connie a grateful smile when he sets one down in front of you.

“He really isn’t plotting my death, is he?” you ask Niccolo.

“No. No. Don’t be silly, Y/N.” he responds.

You sigh, wrapping your fingers around the warm mug.

“I know. I just haven’t…fought with him like this before. It’s weird to have an awkward air to us.” you respond.

“You haven’t fought with Falco, ever. You guys both fight with me.” Colt corrects.

“Well, you’re annoying, Colt.” you respond.

You turn back to Niccolo, gesturing for him to give you an explanation.

“Falco’s trying to impress you, Y/N.” Niccolo states.

“Huh?”

“He’s writing a song. Trying to prove to you that he should be here.” he states.

You deflate. You never meant to make Falco feel like you thought he was untalented. That he didn’t deserve to be here.

“Is the song good? Please tell me he’s a songbird and less of a…falcon.” Connie responds.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are, Connie.” Mikasa deadpans, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, it’s great. I can tell he has a lot of promise, this is the type of stuff we get in demos at the label.” Niccolo responds.

“Label?” you ask.

“I worked with a label for a while back as a producer. I kind of decided it wasn’t my thing a while ago and went into acting.” Niccolo states.

“Would you happen to know anything about like…making deals regarding albums and stuff?” you ask.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

The smallest spark of hope flares in you.

“I have a dilemma. I was wondering if you could shed some light on it for me?” you ask.

“Sure. What’s up?” Niccolo asks.

Eren and Connie give each other a look.

“When I signed on with Danny and Sareen, I promised the label four albums. The thing is, I…kind of fired them before I got to the fourth one and then released that one independently.”

“You fired them?” Gabi asks, eyes wide.

“Yeah. They…they weren’t great. Anyways, they’re kind of claiming that they have ownership under the fourth album and that it’s in violation of my contract with them to have released something before the contract was up. So all of the royalties for streaming the songs goes to them but since I’m not technically an employee of the label anymore they…..they don’t pay me a cent of the money.”

The group of them go silent, eyes wide as they stare back at you. You note that Levi and Hange’s ears perk up from where they’re standing too, five feet away in the kitchen with the mugs.

“Which album is this, Y/N?” Annie asks.

“The Lucky One.”

“What?” Annie states.

The group of them break out into their own chatter, Connie and Eren being noticeably silent in the mix. Annie and Armin are going on about how ridiculous it is, Porco making it a point to note that it’s your most streamed albums, that the money must be somewhere in the millions as you give them all a polite smile.

“Is there anything I can do, Nico?” you ask.

Niccolo sighs.

“I don’t know many people who have been successful with this type of thing. But I’ll see what I can find out for you, okay? We’ll think of something.” Niccolo responds, his mouth upturned as he frowns at you.

“Okay. Thanks Nico, I-I was just wondering. I’m not holding my breath about it or anything.” you respond.

The group of them shuffle back into their own individual conversations, as Mikasa takes the empty seat at your side.

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry you don’t get any of the money for the Lucky One, Y/N. It’s a really great album.”

“Thank you, Mikasa. Really.” you respond, squeezing her hands in yours.

You both lift your mugs, the silence enveloping the two of you as you try to think of the words.

To make amends.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to your engagement party.” you respond.

“Oh- that’s-”

“Can I…can I explain?” you ask.

Mikasa nods.

“I found out that I didn’t own the album anymore the day before the party. And I had every intention of coming actually, I had packed the bags and bought a dress and booked a plane ticket but…”

You sigh.

“My music is the one thing that I owned. If there was any merit to me, if people called me fake and a slut and everything in between, there was….little they could say about the music. It was mine. I wrote it, I put my heart and soul into it just to…” you ramble.

“I can imagine, Y/N.” Mikasa responds, softly.

“It’s….it took so much out of me to make all four of those albums. And it’s not that I’m not proud of them but they were the reason it was so hard. To think that they still make money off of me, after everything they did is…”

“A good reason not to come to an engagement party.” Mikasa finishes.

“I should have been there still. Or at least told you. About everything that happened and I’m really sorry about that but-”

Mikasa sets her mug down at the table and immediately wraps her arms around you, her hands soft in your hairs as you deflate into your shoulder. When you look up, Connie, Jean, and Eren are smiling at the two of you and you make it a point to glare at them. Connie mouths something that looks an awful lot like “maid of honor” which has you rolling your eyes.

When you all shuffle back into your rooms, Mikasa gives you a tight hug before you go to bed. And you relish in what you can get.

“Your head is going to explode if you think any harder.” Levi states, crossing his legs as he sits beside you on the floor.

You sigh, hiking your knees to your chest. You watch Falco and Kaya run around the set, playing with the extra ODM gear lying around the set. He’s laughing hard, excitedly panting as he runs along the perimeter of the room.

“Talk.” Levi states.

“Am I a cavewoman, Levi?” you mutter.

“Evidently.” Levi responds.

You sigh.

“I’m just wondering how we’re going to protect Falco, Gabi, and Kaya from all this stuff.” you murmur.

Levi meets your line of vision, watching the three of them now running around. And you and Levi rise to have the same conversation you had months ago, though relatively calmer this time around.

“I understand why you want to, but you have to let go of that, Y/N.” Levi responds.

“Why? He’s my brother, Levi. And Gabi and Kaya are so sweet, they’re so…full of life. I’d hate to see that ripped from them just because people are horrible.” you murmur.

“Did you listen when I warned you, Y/N? Did Eren?” he asks.

You rest your chin against the tops of your knees, as you hug your knees closer to your chest.

“Levi…”

“There are some lessons you have to learn on your own. You can’t learn their lessons for them. All you can do is be there to catch them if they fall.” Levi responds.

You lean your head against the back wall.

“It’s a touch pill to swallow and I get that. Trust me, I’ve been ten different levels of frustrated with myself when I wasn’t able to stop certain things from happening. But-”

“None of those things were your fault, Levi.” you respond.

“If something does happen to Falco and Gabi, it won’t be your fault either.”

You sigh.

“Everyone goes through things like this. These aren’t just…isolated to us because we’re famous. Granted, they are on public display for people to see, but everyone goes through this kind of thing. These are just the…obstacles that we’ve been given.” Levi responds.

“Okay, Levi. I’ll try to get there.” you respond.

Levi looks over at you, eyebrows raised.

“You feeling okay? You’re listening to me without any pushback?” he states, lightly shoving you.

“Shut up. I’m turning over a new leaf. Trying to do this thing called making amends.” you respond.

Levi smiles in response, a hand coming down on your hair.

“Consider us amended. So what’s your deal with Mikasa then?” he states.

You groan.

“She’s your cousin, Levi. You tell me what her deal is with me.” you respond.

“I believe she picked our resident pain in the ass, Amy, as her maid of honor because she literally had to pick one. The wedding isn’t too far out and she needs the help since Jean can’t help when it comes to type of this thing.” Levi resopnds.

You hum in response.

“Not that Amy is any help either. Not that I hate my own family but…Amy’s always been a bit of a…tough nut to swallow. She’s made a couple of weird comments to Hange, so obviously I hate her. Just doesn’t understand the whole fame thing, that’s all.”

You snort.

“It’s weirdly nice to have her around. I- she asks me all these overbearing questions. Kind of prepares me for when I’ll start having to do press again.” you murmur.

“I won’t send you on the press tour unless you’re ready for it. And you know there will be multiple with the season being split into three, so…don’t rush into it all.” Levi responds.

You nod, giving him a polite smile.

“Thank you, Levi. For always being there to catch me.” you respond.

“Don’t thank me for basic human decency, brat.” Levi spits, standing up to join Hange on the other side of the room.

You smile as you walk up to Connie, who is aggressively scribbling on the whiteboard. There’s two columns and his chicken scratch handwriting on the space.

Father versus Daddy.

“Is anyone going to explain?” you ask, settling into the seat between Mikasa and Sasha.

“They’re ranking everyone’s new Season Four looks. But Connie’s insisting that you cannot compare fathers and daddies. And Jean is forcing us all to do it anyways.” Sasha explains.

You hum in response, as you tune into Connie’s incessant rambling.

“No, listen. Why would you compare Reiner and Eren? That’s not even the same playing field!” Connie shouts.

“Well, if you’re making an objective list, you have to compare them.” Jean states.

“Whose the daddy and the father between Reiner and Eren?” you ask.

“Princess, don’t ask stupid questions.” Connie states, rolling his eyes.

“What? It’s a valid question.” you deflect.

“Eren is obviously the daddy. And Reiner is father. Look at that beard.” Connie states, grabbing Reiner by the cheeks and squishing his skin.

You smile.

“Facial hair really suits you, Reiner. Unlike some people.”

There’s a good amount of laughter, as you look over at Eren who rolls his eyes at you.

“Okay, everyone pick. Are we picking Eren or Reiner for the first spot?” Connie asks.

“I still think it’s rude that I was eliminated at the last round. It’s very hard to pull off a mullet.” Jean states.

“Stop quoting your fiance! You lost out fair and square.” Niccolo shouts.

After Connie counts the votes, Reiner beats out Eren by one vote, to which Reiner’s satisfiedly smiles. Levi calls for Eren to start filming, as you turn on your seats to watch him film.

The ends of Eren’s voice are lost to you as he takes his shirt off and the group of you go silent.

Eren’s raking his fingers through his own hair as he secures it at the back of his neck, just for Connie to start hollering at him and Jean starts wolf whistling. There’s a pink flush climbing up Eren’s neck as he flips the two of them off, before turning back to Levi.

“Can I change my vote?” Pieck asks, earning a fit of laughter from the group.

And you’d love to relish in the discourse, because Eren’s clearly been working out, but you’re entirely distracted by the three, jagged pink scars running along the length of Eren’s back. The makeup team is quick to walk onto the set, quickly masking the scarred tissue as Eren shoots them a polite smile.

“Eren was my celebrity crush when I was little.” Gabi states.

“Me too!” Kaya responds, the two of them giggling into their hands.

Falco is seething behind you at their admissions as Connie joins you at your side, picking up on your blank stare as you watch Eren lean forward on the sink.

“Real cutie, isn’t he?” Connie asks, elbowing you in your side.

You roll your eyes.

“You can’t even say no. You voted for him.” Connie responds.

“Yes. I’m aware, Connie.”

Levi shoots you and Connie a glare, as you both apologize and quiet your voices.

“The marks on Eren’s back, Connie.” you murmur, softly.

Connie nods, almost too understanding of what’s plaguing you.

“That’s Eren’s story to tell you. But it happened on set, a while back.”

You look back at Eren, as him and Hange act out the scene. At the raised skin on his back, in between the tautness of his muscle. You absentmindedly think that if you were to run your hands on his bare back, it would no longer be a smooth surface like the last time you held him. There would be raised skin in the mix, that soft, pink tissue.

“We should just count ourselves lucky that Hange and Levi never endangered our lives when they had us doing stunts.” Connie states.

You nod, the thought sombering your mood all together when you realize what he means.

That Eren was hurt by people being careless with his safety.

“Ask him about it. He’ll tell you.”

“He doesn’t tell me anything. We just kind of awkwardly pretend nothing happened.”

“Do you ask?” Connie states.

“What am I supposed to say? Hey, remember when you said our entire relationship was fake on a really popular podcast? What did you mean by that?”

Connie sighs.

“Start small. There’s a lot for you both to unpack. It takes a second.” Connie murmurs.

“There’s a lot for you to unpack too, Connie. Like the fact that you and Eren are best friends? Because the last time I saw you, you quite literally had just fist fought him a few days prior and said he was the reason you were even addicted in the first place.” you respond.

Connie sighs.

“I was wrong. When you came, mind you, I was already so far gone. And anything I was saying, you…you shouldn’t give merit to it. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Eren. He was the one who took me to rehab. And made sure that I stayed there. All while he was trying to help Lana and-”

Connie stops abruptly.

“Just pressure him. He’s been preparing what he’s going to say to you for so long. And he’s just scared to let it all out after so long.”

You frown, the irritation festering in you, as Eren walks up, a smile plastered on his face. Connie holds his shirt out for him before walking away, as Eren takes the seat next to you.

“Hi Margaret.”

“Hi Bruce.” you grumble, glaring at him.

The two of you sit in silence as you ponder how to approach it, keeping your eyes fixed on the crew changing the set for the next scenes.

“What happened to your back, Eren?”

You notice Eren immediately tense up next to you, his hands tightly clasped together, as he swallows hard.

“Y/N.”

“I want to know what happened to your back. What you meant when you talked to me backstage at the awards show. Why you took me to that beach.”

It’s almost like you’ve broken some wall between you, that tiny porcelain barrier that you and Eren never touch. Because Eren’s eyes go wide, his demeanour entirely different, like a downtrodden animal. And he looks just like he did at the awards show, a person who seems miles away.

“I want to know why the fuck you went on that podcast and acted like you didn’t care about me. I want to know if you fucking care about me, Eren.”

“Of course I care about you!” he murmurs.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Eren. You insinuating you only wanted me for my body gave me a pause for a second there.” you spit.

Eren shuts his eyes, in frustration or pain you can’t quite tell, as he unclasps his hands.

“Why did you let me break up with you because Sareen and Danny asked me to?” you ask.

“Why did you break up with me because Danny and Sareen told you to, Y/N?” Eren counters.

Your throat burns.

“Well, I-”

“Why did you come to see me for my birthday, Y/N? Could you not tell that I didn’t want you there?” Eren asks.

The embarrassment courses through you.

“I came to tell you that I still loved you, Eren. I came there because I wanted to be with you.” you counter.

“And I stopped talking to you, I pulled away because I couldn’t have you be there with me. That is the last place I could have you be, Y/N.” Eren responds, frustrated.

“I get it. You don’t want to be with me. You don’t need to keep fucking rem-”

“Do you have selective hearing? Where did I say that I didn’t want you? I said I couldn’t have you be there with me. Those are two different things.” he seethes.

You glare at him.

“You sound like a dumbass, Eren. Your actions were literally-”

“What part of that trip made it seem like I didn’t fucking want you? If you critically think, for two seconds Y/N, you would realize that the fact that I fucking loved you so much I couldn’t even stay away when you showed up. But I couldn’t have you there. Because if it came down to it, when I had to pick between covering someone else or taking care of you, I’d pick you. And I…I couldn’t. There was too much at stake and-” Eren rambles.

“You aren’t even making sense, Eren. What could possibly be at stake?” you shout.

Eren sighs.

“Everything, Y/N.” Eren responds, softly.

He reaches down, taking one of his hands in yours, as he presses hard on your knuckles. There’s nothing behind his eyes, or rather something simmering deep down, as he avoids your gaze. And the entire…demeanour is enough to push back the wave of anger and let that small soft spot that you have for Eren rise up.

That always coaxed him into talking.

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“I’m asking you that when the time comes, you’ll hear me out. I-I have answers for you. All of them, almost every single one I just need you to wait. For me. Please.” Eren begs.

You know the look in his eyes too well. The desperation. The same desperation that Eren had when he asked you if you still belonged to him, on that beach.

And for a second time, you give in.

“Don’t make me wait forever, Bruce.”

The wall is back up.

“I won’t, Margaret.” Eren responds.

He drops your hands, before walking away with his hands shaking, as you swallow that acidic bile in your throat. And try to rack your mind for the hundredth time, trying to figure out what Eren means.

There’s something about Sasha and Niccolo that makes your heart yearn.

You place your hands flat on Sasha’s shoulders, wrapping your coat around her arms, as she smiles at you in the mirror. You’ve braided the front of her hair, Mikasa’s twisted little flowers into the ends, and Gabi’s brushed all your sparkly makeup over her face to the best of her desires.

Because Sasha and Niccolo are going on their first date.

And there’s something about both of their demeanours, the way they act around each other, that leaves a pit in your chest. And comes with a mix of emotions - going every which way.

First, an overwhelmingly abundant feeling of happiness for Sasha. Because if her words were any inkling to you, it seems like this agonizing want, to be held, to be loved, is something that has plagued Sasha for years. And being here - being around Jean and Mikasa, Levi and Hange, even you and Eren - you’re almost positive that Sasha’s been walking around with this pit, with this yearning in her chest her entire life.

It almost makes it sweeter that she’s getting it now.

Second, there’s some part of it that leaves you with this warm, soft feeling in your stomach. Because the group of you - Sasha, Mikasa, Annie, Pieck, and even Gabi - you’d spent all day together. Picking out Sasha’s outfit, letting her pick out the jewelery, and tell you all the things that Niccolo had planned for her.

That the two of them were going to go on a picnic, by a lake nearby. That Niccolo had spent all this time planning the date with all the guys - that Eren told him about the place, that Jean picked out the food to make with him, that Connie’s been giving one liners to Niccolo to use the entire night.

And third, it makes you long for something you don’t quite have anymore. That at one point, there was someone that filled you with that type of joy. That you know the full extents of her happiness, because you were once in that spot, and even worse, know exactly what could be waiting for her if things go south.

It leaves you with many things. Longing, yearning, fear, and protectiveness. Over Sasha.

Downstairs, Eren is having the same feelings, as the group of them threaten Niccolo at the dining table. Jean, Connie, Armin, and Eren made it a point to make sure that Niccolo, sweet sweet Niccolo, was going to show Sasha the time of her life tonight.

Connie’s having way too much fun with it. Meaning, that he’s got a flood light that he stole from set that he’s shining in Niccolo’s face. Like he’s in an interrogation.

“What are your intentions with Sasha, Niccolo? If that’s even your real name.” Connie seethes.

“Niccolo is my real name. And I just want to take her on a date. M-make her feel special.”

“Likely story, bitch boy.” Jean screams, slamming his fist down on the table.

Eren looks over, giving Armin a weary look, as Jean and Connie continue.

“What food did you make, lover boy?” Connie asks.

“Um, Sasha once mentioned that she wanted to try ratatouille? Like from the movie? So I made that and the sides are mashed potatoes since she likes-”

“How do you know she’s going to like it? What are you going to do if she doesn’t?” Jean asks.

“Take her somewhere else. Make sure that she eats something she likes?” Niccolo asks, a bead of sweat on his forehead.

Armin leans over, whispering in Eren’s ear.

“They’re having way too much fun doing this. I almost feel bad for the guy.” Armin states.

“I know. Sasha’s going to wring their necks out when she finds out they did this.” Eren responds.

“That, I want a front row show for. Sasha always has the funniest insults.”

“God, I know. I’m so lucky she wasn’t there when we were all talking about Hobo Eren for the first time. I’m afraid my self esteem wouldn’t be able to survive that.” Eren mutters back.

Armin laughs, with has Eren’s chest writhing in ten different ways, as Connie starts interrogating Niccolo about where he’s going to place his hands on Sasha tonight.

“Okay, Con. That’s enough.” Eren states, giving Armin a knowing look as they both take a seat across from Niccolo.

“Ah. Right, I hope you know that I-I have the best intentions with Sasha tonight. I really, really like her and I would never do anything to hurt her.” Niccolo states, hands up in defense as he looks at Armin and Eren.

Eren fights the urge to smile.

“You better.” Eren states, face blank as he looks at Niccolo.

“H-huh?” Niccolo asks.

“You heard him. You better.” Armin repeats, mimicking Eren’s expression.

“Right. I-I just said that I did.” Niccolo responds.

“Great. Then we won’t have a problem. Do you want a problem, Niccolo?” Armin states, folding his hands on the table.

“N-no.” he responds.

“Why did you stutter, Niccolo?” Eren asks, pinching his eyes at him.

On cue, Eren and Armin are cut off from their version of Jean and Connie’s interrogation, which they’re sure is more horrifying than theirs, as all the girls run down the stairs and start giggling. Eren’s thrown off by the excited look on your face, at your hands linked with Mikasa.

“Oh! Oh, Nico stand up! You look so cute.” you state, squeezing Mikasa’s hands as you look at him.

His soft blonde curls are tamed against his forehead, the tiniest bouquet of little flowers bunched up in his hands. You can tell that he’s a little nervous - from the way he’s awkwardly smiling at the group of you and the little flush on his cheeks - which has your heart squelching even more.

“Sasha’s a lucky girl.” Mikasa agrees, a wide smile on her face.

“Speaking of Sasha, I think she’s ready.” Annie states.

The group of you all stand to the side, arm linked with Sasha’s, as Sasha stumbles down the stairs. Niccolo and Sasha have matching pink flushes rushing up their necks as they awkwardly smile at each other, Sasha stumbling over her words when Niccolo hands her the flowers and Niccolo nearly losing it over Sasha calling him handsome.

“You two. If I found out you bothered him, I’m going to wring your necks out.” Sasha states, pointing over to the boys with a menacing glare.

“We didn’t do anything!” Jean whines.

“I’m not talking to you, Jean. I’m talking to you two.” Sasha states, accusingly pointing at Eren and Armin.

“We didn’t do anything. Right, Niccolo?” Eren asks, giving him his best peachy smile.

“Of course not!” Niccolo states, linking his hands with Sasha as the two of them give you all waves goodbye and you all clump by the door to watch them settle into the car.

Armin and Eren are directly behind you, giggling about something, as the two of them drive off.

“You guys are so mean. You probably scared the guy to death.” you state.

“It was nothing that wasn’t necessary, Y/N.” Eren responds, crossing his hands over his chest.

“If anything, I would argue it was noble. Wouldn’t you agree, Eren?” Armin states, leaning his elbow on Eren’s shoulder, like he’s deep in thought.

“I think I would, Armin.” Eren responds, the two of them giving admonishing look.

“He’s a sweet guy!” you whine.

“We know that. But this is Sasha. I can’t have him going around thinking he’s in her league or something.” Eren states.

“Sasha is basically a national treasure. We’re have to remind him of his place here.” Armin states.

You roll your eyes, pushing past the both of them, as you roll your eyes. You pad into the kitchen, rummaging around for snacks, as Eren follows behind you. And right when you’re about to pour yourself a bowl of cereal, Eren’s quick to snatch the box from your hands.

“Sorry. We’re eating proper food for dinner tonight.” Eren states, giving you a peachy smile.

“You’re so annoying.” you grumble, trying to reach for the box again.

“Cereal is good. But you have to balance it out. With some protein or add some fruits in it or something.” Eren adds.

“Or I can just eat it right now and you can quit it.”

“Nope. We’re eating pasta.” Eren states, now rummaging through all the cabinets as he sets out to make the food.

You push up on the counter, dangling your feet off the edge, as you get a weird sense of deja vu.

Of your first date with Eren.

“Can I cut the vegetables?”

Eren looks over, just to give you a pointed glare. And you fight the urge to laugh, and ignore that stirring in your chest, that he remembers. Or more appropriately, still doesn’t trust you to cook in the kitchen with him.

“Do you think you’re some kind of comedian, Margaret?”

“No. I’m a really good cook now. You can trust me.”

Eren leans against the counter, a hand on his hip, as you roll your eyes.

“Right. Need I remind you, you almost set the house on fire a few days ago. God knows what you’re going to do if I let you do this.” Eren sneers.

“You’re so-”

“For all we know, you’re going to start a grease fire! And then try to throw water at it to put it out.”

“Do you not put fires out with water?”

Eren laughs.

“Oil and water don’t mix, princess. Were you born yesterday?”

You fight the urge to laugh, at how sassy Eren is being, as you reach for the vegetables lying directly to his side. And when you pull out the cutting board and the knife from the drawer, Eren’s scoffing at you.

“Yeah, right. Use the safety knife.” Eren states.

“Am I five years old, Eren?”

“Litearlly yes. Give me like two minutes, I’ll do it.” Eren responds.

You roll your eyes, as you attend to cutting the little vegetables, dicing the onions and the bell peppers to the best of your ability.

“Do you think Sasha’s having fun?” you ask.

“It’s Niccolo. I’m sure he’s putting on a good time for her. And if he isn’t, Armin and I are going to wring his neck out when he comes back.”

“You and Armin, huh?”

Eren’s shoulders deflate, the smallest makings of a smile on his face.

“It’s not anything like that, Y/N. We just don’t play about Sasha, that’s all.” Eren responds.

“Or, you two are making amends. Baby steps.”

Eren smiles.

“Maybe. I hope so.” he responds.

“I love how you guys are all protective of Sasha. It’s really sweet, actually.” you murmur.

“Well, it’s Sash. She’s basically like our little sister.” Eren responds.

“I know. But it just reminds me of when we were younger and stuff. Sasha, she never really had someone interested in her like that. I think some part of her really internalized that type of stuff, so I’m glad we’re all able to make her feel special now.” you respond.

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I can’t really speak to it personally, but from what Sasha said, some part of her took it really seriously. That it was something about her, that it was her personality or her looks and that’s why people didn’t like her like that.”

Eren frowns.

“Sasha’s beautiful. And she’s funny. We’re so protective of her because she’s so special.” Eren responds.

“I know that. I just mean, when you don’t get that type of attention, you tend to…let it stick with you. It even happens to people who haven’t been in relationships for a while. Like the yearning, the longing for something like that just makes you kind of…down.” you mumble.

Eren looks over at you, green eyes peering into yours.

“Are you down, Y/N?” he asks.

“What?”

“I was just asking if you were down. It’s been a while since you’ve been in a relationship.” Eren responds, the tone of his voice heartfelt.

You sigh.

“Okay, Mr. Long Term Relationship. I don’t want to seem like I’m jealous of Sasha, I’m actually really happy for her-”

“I’m not in a long term relationsip.” Eren responds.

“You’re not?” you ask.

Eren looks over at you and frowns.

“Did you really go into hibernation the two years you were gone? I haven’t been in a relationship for almost a year and a half now.” Eren responds.

“Oh.”

Eren smiles.

“Yeah, oh. But continue with what you were saying.” Eren gestures.

“I don’t know. Sometimes you just want someone to hold you.” you respond.

You reach for the next set of vegetables, the slicing sound distracting you from that palpable tension in the air.

“I get that. I feel that way too sometimes. Especially around Jean and Mikasa.” Eren responds.

“God, don’t get me started. They’re so sweet it makes my stomach hurt.” you respond.

You must have been too distracted by the premise, because you cut down into the softness of your fingers and immediately hiss in pain. Eren’s all too quick to move to your side, his head peering over your shoulder as he immediately starts scolding you.

“You know, this is why I told you not to cut the vegetables, Margaret.”

“Are you really having an “I told you so moment” while I’m bleeding out, Bruce?” you deadpan.

“You aren’t bleeding out, drama queen.”

Eren’s quick to reach over you, pulling out the stack of alcohol wipes and bandaids from the cupboard. He places his hands on your shoulders, twisting you to face him as he holds his hand out. You instinctively high five his hand, which he rolls his eyes at.

“Your other hand, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes as you place your injured hand in his, ignoring his featherlike touch on your fingers as he carefully wraps the Cinderella bandaid around your finger. When Eren’s all set and done, he lightly curls his hand around yours, just to immediately pull it back when he realizes what he’s done.

“Thanks.” you respond.

“No problem. Now move over and let me cut these before I have to put a tourniquet on you.” Eren states, sliding you slightly to the side.

You watch Eren in silence, as he attentively makes the dinner for the two of you. And try to banish the thought from your mind, that if you and Eren were still together, that this is what every night would look like for the two of you. That he would have held you, when you said you wanted to be held.

“Have you written any new music lately?” Eren asks, plating the food onto the dishes before picking up both and gesturing for you to follow.

You shake your head, twisting the forks in your fingers.

“I actually haven’t written anything since the Lucky One. Since happiness.”

The two of you eat in silence, before Eren speaks again.

“It’s a beautiful song, Y/N.”

“Thank you.” you murmur.

The interviews fresh on your mind, particularly the fact that you have confirmation now that Eren’s watched it, which has your words, rather embarrassingly, ringing in your mind.

Eren Jaeger is the love of my life. He’s everything you want in the person you want to spend the rest of your life with and more. He’s kind, he’s sensitive, he’s all too willing to understand you. Too willing to meet you where you are, as you are, and look past all the bad parts of you.

You look over at him.

He’s still your Eren.

“Have you met the new you yet, Y/N?” Eren asks.

You understand what he means.

Have you forgiven him yet?

“I don’t know. There’s still some things I don’t know, Eren. And I’ve been patient but-”

“Everyone’s leaving for the first press tour on Friday.” Eren states.

You tilt your head to the side, in confusion.

“Everyone except you and me.” Eren adds.

“Oh.”

“I’ll have your answers. I just…I can’t have anyone here when we talk about this. All of it and-”

“Well, I wouldn’t want anyone here anyways. I can’t have any accomplices to my homicide.” you state.

Eren laughs, reaching over to lightly shove your shoulder, as he gestures for you to keep eating.

“Just two more days, okay?” Eren whispers.

“Okay, Eren.” you respond, a silent chill running down your spine.

You tap his foot under the table on instinct. And he taps on your foot back.

Falco’s seated at the piano, his entire demeanour a mix of nerves. His hairs a tousled mess, certainly from running his hands through it a hundred times, a sizable bead of sweat on his forehead, and his hands shaking underneath his legs.

You’re all sat around him in a circle, everyone anticipating Gabi’s arrival, as you all watch Falco nervously twitch on the bench. Last night, after Levi had finished his press brief, preparing everyone for answers to common questions (the main one being about whether or not you’re returning for season four), Falco cleared his throat and asked you all for a special request.

For everyone to gather on the set, early morning before everyone leaves for the press tour tomorrow. And after he shuffled out of the room, Niccolo made you all aware that he was planning on playing his new song for you.

Naturally, you all obliged. You’re all stuck in your own conversations, quietly musing and sharing the extra blankets on set, as Eren settles down next to you, crossing his legs over one another as he sits at your side. He’s holding out an extra blanket for you, which you gratefully smile at him for, before wrapping around yourself.

“Good morning, Margaret.”

“Hi Bruce.”

Eren smiles, his entire demeanour shifting. He’s the most calm you’ve seen him, at least in a while. You think it suits him. Meanwhile, you can’t help but feel like an anxious ball of nerves just being here next to him.

“Ready?” Eren asks.

Your heart drops.

“For?”

“Hearing Falco’s song. I heard from Gabi that it’s really great.” Eren states.

Right. He definitely wasn’t asking about the conversation you guys were going to have when everyone left.

“Yeah. I’m excited.” you respond.

“Me too.”

You swallow hard, giving Falco a smile as he glances over at you.

“And I didn’t forget, Y/N.” he adds, voice quiet so you’re the only one who can hear it.

You nod in response, acknowledging his words, as the dryness overtakes your throat. And on cue, Gabi runs into set, her hood pulled over her head, as she all but rambles as she walks in.

“Ah! Falco, guys. Oh my gosh, I’m so so sorry. I woke up late and then couldn’t find my clothes and-”

“It’s okay, Gabi.” Falco responds, giving her a soft smile.

“Oh, Falco. I really am sorry. But I’m here now. And you’ve got this!” she responds, holding her hand out.

Falco smiles big, reaching forward as him and Gabi complete some long winded and complicated handshake. And when they’re done, Gabi settles into the seat right next to Eren, as he reaches forward to pull the hood of her jacket down and she gives him an excited smile.

“Sorry for making you guys do this. I just-”

Falco stops short, absentmindedly pressing on one of the keys.

“Y/N has told me so much about what doing press is like. Before, when I was younger. That sometimes people would ask her questions that were weirdly inappropriate or…or ask her different questions than her male co-stars and…”

Your heart clenches.

“It bothered me so much to think that people said stuff like that to my sister. And now that I know all of you, I hate to think you’ve all been doing press like that too. I figure we’d all leave today on a high note? And I could share something I’ve been doing for a while with you, if that’s okay.” Falco rambles, the smallest flush creeping up his neck.

You all smile, huddling closer into your blanket as Falco starts playing the piano.

Floorboards creaking in my home Deathly silence when alone Oh, I wish that you were here right now So unlike me, somehow I Fell in love in just three nights Those November days still haunting me

Falco’s always been a great singer. He’s always been like this - so full of energy, his voice so full of life. And you’re sure that the tears falling down your cheeks, the smile creeping up on your face, is a byproduct of the hundreds of thoughts running across your mind, but mainly the pride swelling in your chest.

That Falco’s not five anymore and that he doesn’t need your help reaching the high cabinets. And that he may not always hold your hand like he did when he was seven, but he never flinches or denies you when you ask him to. Or that really, Falco’s grown up.

And you’re almost positive that Falco’s in love. With Gabi, whose smiling at him in awe, the clear signs of pride on her face as she watches him press down on the keys, his soft voice filling the air.

When the gold rays fell on your skin And my hair got caught in the wind The choir sang a melancholic hymn (ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah) In the morning, you would gone I'd be mourning, tryin' to hold on To the memory of your lips God, I'm so lovesick What have you done to me?

You look around the room to find Jean pulling Mikasa flesh against his chest, Sasha and Niccolo reaching to hold each other’s hands, Hange absentmindely leaning her head on Levi’s shoulder, just for him to bring his hand up to comb through her hair.

You look over at Eren, the soft smile on his face as he lightly bobs his head to the music. You must have been staring at him full on, because he looks over at you and smiles.

“When did Coco grow up?” he whispers.

“I’m literally getting a stomach ache thinking about how he’s not a baby anymore.” you respond, frowning at Falco as he finishes singing.

At how sweet he is. At how much you love him. And how you’re going to make sure, without a doubt, that no one gets to take this away from him.

Everyone reaches to give Falco big hugs, tousling his hair and excitedly shaking his tiny frame, as he makes his way over to where you and Eren are sitting on the floor. He lands criss cross in front of you, the smile not leaving his face.

“Did you like it, Y/N?” he asks, the look on his face hopeful.

You reach forward, taking his hands in yours.

“I loved it, Coco.”

“Really?”

“Are you crazy? It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” you respond, squeezing his hands hard.

Falco excitedly rushes in to hug you, only to tackle you hard straight into the ground. You both laugh, a tangled mix of limbs, and you hug him as hard as you can, trying to squeeze that big writhing feeling of love in your chest right onto him with your arms.

“I really love you, Y/N.” Falco murmurs.

“I really love you too, Falco. You’re going to be amazing at this. Like, triple threat level.” you respond.

“That’s rich coming from you.” Falco responds, pulling out of your arms as you pinch his cheek.

“Takes one to know one.” you respond.

You cup Falco’s face in your hands.

“You’ve got this. Really.” you murmur.

“I know.”

“Good. And remember, if anyone says anything shitty to Gabi-”

“I’ll defend her.” he responds.

You smile.

“I’ve taught you well. Though, you’ve never really needed my help. You’ve always been great on your own.”

“I’m lucky to learn from the best. And to have you. To protect me from all the bad stuff.” he adds.

You smile.

“I wish someone got to do it for you.” Falco adds.

“That’s okay. You were always there. You did more for me than you know.”

Falco smiles.

“Wanna know a secret?” Falco asks.

You nod.

“I know everyone hated those two years that you were gone. But they were my favorite.” Falco responds.

You smile hard, reaching forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Me too. I finally know how to hit people on Roblox now.”

Falco laughs, turning his head to respond to Gabi and Kaya who are calling him at your sides. Armin’s standing post with his camera, gesturing for him to join the picture.

And little by little, you watch every last one of them pad out of the set, the group of them giving you wistful goodbyes and promises to tell at least one interviewer to go fuck themselves on your behalf, until you and Eren are left sitting alone, on the bench of the piano.

He turns to you, green eyes wide and round, as they peer into yours.

“Ready, Y/N?”

You take a deep breath in.

“Yeah. Where should we start?” you murmur.

“We should start here.” Eren states, handing you a little plastic box.

You take it in your hands, inspecting it in your fingers and flipping it over. It’s a little green CD, with unmistakable handwriting markered onto the top.

Fine Line.

You swallow hard.

“Is that Sukuna’s handwriting?” you ask.

“I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just say that.” Eren responds, rolling his eyes.

“What?”

“You two together has been a sore spot for me since I was sixteen. And I’m not even going to ask you why you’re able to recognize his handwriting straight off the bat.” Eren teases.

You roll your eyes.

“What is this, Eren?” you ask.

“Anything you could possibly want to know is on there.” he responds.

You nod, as the two of you stand up and march back to the townhouse in silence. You twist the little box in your fingers, the CD glimmering in the light outside. When you finally make it back, you push it into the little box and take a deep breath.

Eren reaches for your hand and squeezes. Three times.

And you press play.

next part linked here

an, again: ARE YOU READY FOR IT?? in the efforts of being charitable, here's the song line up for the next chapter: ever since new york by harry styles, clean by taylor swift, all of the girls you've loved before, last kiss by taylor swift, sparks by coldplay, and obviously, fine line by harry styles. make of that what you will.

taglist:

@k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @mrksnctzen @spiidergirlsworld

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

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