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thot4ellie · 3 months

Text

oh sweetheart pt 4

pairing: boxer!ellie x f! jesses sister!reader

word count: 6.6k

rating: 18+ (smut will be coming in later parts)

warnings: boxer!ellie, fighting/boxing, flirting, blood, weed, alcohol, joel is dead in this :(, kissing, sexual interaction (almost im getting there pls!) talk of abusive relationships, cheating mentioned, smoking, talk of death, talk of mourning (lmk if im forgetting anything) ellie likes coffee lol, also i post w no specific character descriptions besides being female :)

summary: you and ellie spend the day together, your luck turns and you both realize you’re not alone anymore.

author notes: hi guys sorry this is later than expected! got a promotion at work and it’s kept me a bit busy, but reader talking ab her ex gf???? there’s no name yet for a reason (hint hint) and with that i just want to say that personas of a character im writing do not reflect back on the actual character and it’s just a plot twist i thought id throw in for later down the line! anyways pls forgive me for being late i pulled an all nighter and i finished this so i will go back and edit soon! thank you for reading! pls comment like reblog and follow!

part 1 | part 2 | part 2.5 | part 3

series masterlist | main masterlist

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

the sun beamed from the window in your bedroom, creating a pattern of light shining across your comforter. your eyes flutter open as you were took in the brightness covering your room. you cursed yourself in your head for not closing the curtains. you looked at the clock that was reading 8:48am,.

you realized you definitely drank too much last night and now you’re suffering the consequences. you take a little while to gather yourself before you went to get up from your bed, throwing the blankets over the top of you to sit up. all you wanted to do was think about last night as you were interrupted by the sight of her tattooed arm, resting over your waist holding you against her, you being unable to move as thoughts of last night played in your head as you try to ignoring the pounding.

ellie.

you guys outside smoking last night enjoying each others company. the way she got so close to your lips that you could feel her breath. ellie and you hanging out at the bar with dina and jesse. ellie walking you home and giving you her jacket. her agreeing to come up to your apartment, the tension that floated in the air every second you were each other. the way sweetheart rolled off her tongue when she talked you. getting high on your couch and kissing her as she pulled you on top of her. the way the she moved your hair out of your face before falling asleep. admitting to her that you liked her and that she felt the same way about you.

she liked you.

ellie stirred, arm around you as you were caught up in your thoughts. you heard her take breathe deep in her sleep as she pulled you even closer, your back pressing against her chest. you couldn’t believe this was happening. you and ellie fell asleep in your bed last night. kissing her and being with her has clouded your thoughts since you met her and now…. she has her arm around your waist fast asleep breathing you in.

the way your lips would connect with hers, if they would move perfectly in sync with each, fitting like two puzzle pieces together. how her heavy hands traced inches of your body, sliding her hands up and down your hips and thighs…

your eyes felt droopy as you got comfortable against ellie, drowning in the scent of her that took over your sheets and pillows. you cuddled into ellie’s strong chest that she held you against her. you moved your own arm to lay across hers as you fell back to sleep, now remembering everything that happened last night and what led to this moment of you waking up next to each other.

a couple hours, you stir around and wake yourself, only to find the bed empty. your heart drops realizing ellie was gone and didn’t say goodbye. did she not mean what she said last night? you told her you liked her and she left. overthinking was your specialty.

as you pulled the blankets over your head ready to sulk the entire day in end over what happened, you decided you were going to shower the night off before you spent the hours upset. you got up and headed into your bathroom, turned on the shower and got undressed. you took about thirty minutes washing your hair and body, despite not wanting to wash off the scent of ellie that you were wrapped in. you turned off the shower, got out and dried off as wrapped yourself in a huge fuzzy pink towel and as opened the door to your bedroom, you saw her.

ellie was there sitting on your bed facing the bathroom door, with two coffee mugs in her hand.

“good morning sweetheart,” she spoke softly.

“hi els,” you blushed, “i thought you left..” you told her shyly.

“i wouldn’t just leave after last night,” she responded, “i told you we’d talk sweetheart.”

“yes you did,” you utter, looking at her as you smiled sweetly and adjusted the towel around you.

“do you want to go to breakfast?” she asked, “theres this nice diner by my apartment if you wanted to walk.”

“yes that sounds perfect el!” you said, excited at the sound of food in your stomach.

you told ellie you’d get dressed and meet her in the living room. she left the room and you walked over to your dresser. your thoughts piled as your picked out your outfit.

she stayed. ellie stayed. your mood changed at the sight of her and you were so glad that last night meant something and you weren’t just drunk. flashes of ellie laying in your bed as she faced you and the way she touched you, the way her skin felt on yours. it was intoxicating.

you changed and left your bedroom to find ellie sitting on your couch. she was focused on avatar the last air-bender streaming over your large tv screen. (the animated series ofc!) she reached to get the coffee she made and handed it to you as you took a seat next to her.

“i love this show.” you spoke as you wrapped your hands around the cup and sipped on your still warm coffee.

“yeah toph is so badass- the best part of the show,” ellie laughed.

you guys finished the episode in comfortable silence until you spoke up and asked ellie if she still wanted to get breakfast. she said yes as she took her last sip, held her hand out motioning for your mug. you handed it to her as both got up. her putting them both in your kitchen sink and you grabbed your tote bag from your bedroom. ellie grabbed her bookbag from your living floor and threw it over her shoulder as she met you by your entry area. you both exited your apartment and you started the walk to the cafe, ellie leading you since she knew the way.

as you walked, ellie talked about jurassic park which she just watched the other day and how she loved the movie series which lead to her telling you about the time she went to a history museum for her birthday when she was 15, how exciting it was seeing the dinosaurs up close and she managed to spill at least 20 dinosaur facts in half the walk.

she told you about the space section they had and how fucking cool it was to sit in the space shuttle they had there. you laugh as she tells you that she’s gonna be the next person who goes to space. she points out the spaceship pin she has on her backpack, telling you its one of her favorite things she’s ever been gifted.

you loved hearing ellie talk about the things that she loves. she told you she collects superhero cards and reads comics, “like a nerd” she said. she tells you about her favorite songs to play on guitar. she told you she can’t wait to play for you sometime. ellie asked you about your favorite songs, mentally taking note of them because she will be teaching herself how to play one to impress you.

as you continue walking, you take in the scenery surrounding you on the street you walked. your eyes spotted the wire benches that were spaced out throughout the street, the flower stand on a far corner ahead, and the small gas station and convenience store up ahead. as you made it a bit further, you saw a bookstore coming up on the corner as you and ellie walked side by side. “oh my god ellie! do you mind if we go in?” you asked.

“yeah i love this place,” she responded as she opened the door for you to walk in. the bell chimed and you were amazed at the sight of the long book shelves that covered the walls and littered in columns down the center. there was a section of comfy chairs towards the back you could see peeking out behind a cart of books waiting to be unloaded. you see plants hanging from the ceiling in front of the tall windows towards the side of the bookshop.

“ellie! oh my gosh! how nice to see you!” you heard as you followed the sound of the voice. it was a short older lady probably around her 60s, with long grey hair and she walked with a cane. she made her way over and engulfed ellie in a hug. “oh my! how have you been?” the lady said as she pulled away, “and who’s this lovely lady?” as she grabbed your hand to shake.

ellie laughed as she said, “miss ashley, this is y/n.”

“oh you’re lovely!” the sweet old lady said towards you, “ellie doesn’t bring people around so its nice to see she has some friends, especially such pretty ones!” miss ashley laughed and gave you a warm smile.

ellie blushed, “ash please… don’t embarrass me,” she said jokingly putting face into her hands.

“oh nonsense! im just making conversation!” she exclaimed as she let go of your hands, “its so nice to meet you!”

“its nice to meet you too miss ashley!” you responded.

“oh please that makes me feel old, just call me ash! i insist please,” she laughed.

“okay ash,” you smiled, “i love this place, this is what i imagine heaven feels like.” you laughed.

“well you wouldn’t be happening to be looking for a job, would you?” she joked but your attention was caught as soon as she said those words.

“you’re hiring?” you said almost shocked. you didn’t want to get your hopes up but you’ve been looking for a job since you moved here and you’ve been having no luck. but this place… it was unbelievably beautiful and you could only imagine the peace you would feel working in a place like this.

“yes!” ash said to you, “since my husband passed, its getting hard to keep up with everything, i’ve been looking for the right person to help, ellie helps in her free time, but i cant make her do everything and theres no much i can without some help most days.” she said sounding a little defeated at the mention of her husband.

“well i’d love to come help! this would be great for both of us,” you said towards ash but your eyes met ellie as you spoke, hoping you didn’t cross a boundary with ellie.

“well think about it and get back to me!,” she said and then continued, “now go look around girls! i’ve got something something to do back in the office, but don’t leave without saying goodbye!” she said as she disappeared to a side room behind the cashier counter.

ellie looked at you and tried to apologize, for what miss ashley said and that she hoped she wasn’t too forward, but you just laughed and said that it was funny, and that you didn’t mind the sweet old lady who clearly loved her and meant no harm. curiosity got the best of you as you asked ellie how she knows the lady who might be the nicest person you’ve ever met.

“i actually live in the building next door,” she started as you guys made your way down an isle of fiction books but you stopped in your tracks and interrupted her, “you practically live above a bookstore that’s so cool el!”

“yeah i guess it is, i’ve known her since we moved, my dad was friends with her husband, so we used to come here all the time, it’s one of my favorite places.” ellie told you, “it would be cool for you to work here, i know you’re looking and i wish i could do more to help her but she seems to love you already.” she finished.

“are you sure that’s okay? you’ve just known her for so long and you live righ-“

she cut off your rambling off, “sweetheart it’s actually a great idea and i think you should take it.” she smiled at you as you both continued down the isles, you found a book you’ve had on your list and you picked it up to purchase. ellie and you came across the comic book section and she practically squealed in excitement as she held up a comic that read savage starlight. it was crazy seeing this badass boxer geeking out over comic books, space snd dinosaurs. you never would have thought it but it just makes you like her more.

“oh fuck yeah! i don’t have this one! this is my favorite series ever.” ellie told you smiling.

you guys made your way up to the counter and placed down the book and comic. ellie reached to hit the little bell since ash was in the back still. she made her way out of the back and her face lit up again when she saw you guys.

“hi ladies! is this all?” she spoke as she picked up the merchandise and clicked the price in her outdated sale system.

you opened your bag and grabbed your wallet. ellie tried to beat you to pulling out hers but you put her hand over hers and pushed it down, giving her a smile.

then you pulled out a 20 and handed it over. ash smiled as she finished the transaction, gave you the change and told you thank you.

“id actually like to take you up on the job offer, this place seems so cool!” you responded.

“oh yes! it would be a great help! you can come back on wednesday around 11 for your first shift! we’ll sort paperwork and stuff out then! thank you so much again!” the little lady said across the counter as she handed you your paper bag with ellies comic and your book.

“sounds perfect! i will see you then!” you said.

ellie said goodbye to her and she came around the counter to give you both a hug before you headed out of the store and continued the walk to the cafe.

“well it looks like im employed now, this is exciting” you said as you grabbed ellies hands in yours.

“it looks as so sweetheart, im excited for you!” she said as she squeezed her hand in yours, “now lets eat? and this time i’m paying, to celebrate!”

she then turned you around with a spin to see the cafe to the side of you. it was a cute retro diner that looked like it was straight out of the 90s. how does ellie know the best places? she’s unbelievable, you thought in your head, not being able to stop the smile growing on your face as you looked at her with your mouth dropped open in disbelief.

ellie laughed as she held the door for you as you both walked in and saw a seat yourself sign. you leaded the way across the checker print floor to the last booth in the corner of the right side of the diner, right next to the window.

ellie followed behind you and watched as you picked that booth. the red booth her and joel used to sit at every single they came here. the booth she spent years sitting at with the man who was gone forever. ellie felt her chest tighten as you took the side she always sat in, leaving ellie the spot that held so many images of her late father. she couldn’t blame you, its not like you were aware of the memories this particular booth held. but ellie couldn’t help that it hurt.

you noticed a sudden change in ellie when she didn’t respond to you as you asked if she had any idea what she wanted as you guys slid into the booth across each other.

“hey el?” you tried to get her attention but she was off in her own head.

you reached over and held her hand which is stopped her fidgeting with the other and she finally looked up at you.

“ellie are you okay?”

“yeah sweetheart… this is just- this booth holds a lot of memories.” she spoke to you with a hint of sadness behind what she said, “haven’t sat here since my dad died.”

“els, fuck, im sorry should we move over there-“

she has a habit of cutting off your rambling with a squeeze of your hand and saying to you, “hey no it’s okay, it’s nice to sit here again, it’s been so long but i’m glad you’re here with.”

you made sure ellie was okay with staying before you guys took a look at the menu when the waitress came around and introduced herself, telling you her name and she started you and ellie off with a round of hot coffee while you guys looked over the breakfast section.

“okay ellie… i have a serious question.” she looked up from the menu and made direct eye contact with you before you proceeded talking with the most serious look on your face, “waffles or pancakes?”

“not the biggest fan of pancakes, definitely fuck with waffles more,” ellie laughed but the sadness couldn’t help but show up again as she thought about joel again. he didn’t really like pancakes either. ellie thought about the last time her and joel were here, a couple days before he passed. she wished she remembered more of him.

interrupting her thoughts, the waitress came back for your order which for you was waffles with scambled eggs and bacon and ellie got the same thing as you too.

you talked about how nice it was to see parts of the town you didn’t even know existed and that you and ellie got to explore it together, you told her “thank you for bringing you to places that were special to her.”

ellie beamed, “im glad i got to show you sweetheart.”

about 10 minutes later, the waitress brought over your plates and you guys started to dig in to the so needed breakfast. you watched as ellie drowned her food enough that syrup was over her entire plate, laughing as you told her “theres not even any food left at this point, its allllll syrup.”

“hey leave me alone! this is the best part!” she said as she cut a bit and brought it to her mouth as the syrup dripping down her chip. you watched as she licked her lips as she swallowed looking you dead in the eye. all you could think about was kissing her again. the way her lips felt on yours, how her hands covered your body and the goosebumps she left. ellie noticed your eyes change as you thought about it and didn’t speak.

“whatcha thinking ‘bout sweetheart?” ellie finally asked with an innocent smile on her face but she was feeling the same way you did, she couldn’t help the thoughts of last night, staying wrapped around your warm body, the way your lips connected with hers and how you begged for her to kiss you again. she only wonders what would have happened if you guys didn’t stop.

“how good this fo- food tastes el duh,” you stuttered. ellie laughed and mumbled a “sureeee.”

you guys finished your food up and continued drinking the coffee that was refilled a couple minutes ago before you asked for the check. the waitress sat down the receipt and ellie slammed her hand down on to of it before you could snatch it up and treat her again.

“what did i tell you? tsk tsk tsk” she made the noise with her mouth, “i’m getting breakfast,” she said as she pulled her wallet from her back pocket and sat cash on the table. “done with the coffee sweetheart?” as soon as she asked you took your final sip before adding it to the table of empty dishes you piled up for the waitress to make it a little easier for her.

“now i am.” you gave her a smile. she returned it and stood up throwing her backpack over her shoulder, before holding out her hand for you to hold. you gripped her hand as she gently pulled you out of the booth and let you walk first. you walked the diner to the front door before you opened it before the both of you.

as you stepped out of the diner, you wondered if this was a date? you knew it wasn’t said but this would be a great first date if it was. bookshop and a diner with ellie. you’ve never just been out before like this.

in your last relationship, the one that sent you running from new york, you never left the house, she wouldn’t let you. you couldn’t go out with your friends, leading them to stop talking to you because “it was pointless” in being your friend anymore. it hurt but you couldn’t escape it, you knew it was bad being shut in like that but you didn’t want to face your ex girlfriend.

you spent 2 years in that abusive relationship and couldn’t be more happy to get away but the thought of her finding you was always a thought that never left the back of your head. when you threatened to leave before, she told you she’d always find you and that you would never be able to get away from her. you wonder if you ran far enough away from her. hopefully half a country away was enough.

as you both stood out on the sidewalk trying to figure out what your next plans were since it was only about 3pm, ellie asked if you wanted to head to her apartment. you told her yes and you started the walk back down the street you came. hand in hand, the bookstore came in view on the corner and you knew you were close. she brought you down the connecting street to the building next door to a green door with chipped paint. she pulled her keys from her front pocket and unlocked the door.

inside was a stairway to the second floor and a door at the other opposite side of the front door. it was nice entrance with a door mat and a nice table against the wall with some fake flowers and some little decorations.

“ash lives downstairs actually, this is all hers.” ellie told you as she saw you looking the trinkets.

“aw that’s so nice,” you said as she lead you up the stairs to a another green door. ellie unlocked her front door and she held it for you to walk inside. she flicked on the light as she pulled the door shut and locked it. you were taken back at how nice her apartment was. you stepped more into her apartment and took a deep look around.

she had a wall of vinyls next to a record player and stereo system and 2 guitars, one electric and another dark wood acoustic with a moth on the neck. she had a couple plants in her window and a few on the fireplace in the middle of the open living room, connected to her a bit outdated kitchen (but it added to the ambiance) she had a playstation connected to her large tv screen across from a long grey couch. the door to the bathroom was open so you can only assume the one that’s shut across the room is her bedroom. band posters littered her walls and picture frames sat around her living room. a bookshelf full of comic books and action figures along with a series of books on space.

she walked over to the couch and dropped her bag as you followed her and took a seat on the couch. it was so comfy, it was unbelievable. she grabbed the remote and handed it to you telling you to turn on whatever. you did as you watched from the side as ellie emptied the contents of her book bag which consisted of her jar of weed, her rainbow grinder and a pack of papers.

“hm sweetheart?”, ellie said getting your attention, “m gonna take a shower, mind rolling one for when im done?” she smiled at you.

“yeah sure els!” you said as you picked up the pack of papers. she smiled and walked into her bedroom. you heard the shower turn on you finished prepping a couple papers. you packed the grinder, then started stuffing each one them, licking them shut and placing them back on the table. once you finished, you were watching community as yours eyes darted around ellie’s living room and landed on a picture of her with dina and your brother.

you got up from the couch and walked over and picked it up, examining it. they almost look young in the photograph, you wonder what it would have been like if you were here with them at that time instead of now. how life would have been if you weren’t stuck in new york with her. you placed it back down on the table when another frame caught your eye. you made your way over to the bar area it sat on and held it in your hand.

this must be ellie and her dad.

it was a picture of them in a stable feeding a horse, she had to have been like only fifteen in the photo. “she was so cute,” you thought. you stared at the man who you assume was her dad. he had darker but greying hair, he seemed so young in the picture but it was only taken a couple years ago.

you jumped as you heard ellie speak behind you. you didn’t even hear the water turn off. “joel, that was his name.” she said, you turned around to see her standing right behind you, “our relationship was complicated but he was a good man, taught me most of what i know,” she took the frame from your hands and held it in her own, looking down at it, “but i miss him… you know i planned to ask him to watch a movie that night on the day he passed… but it never happened.” ellie said as her thumb brushed over him in the photo.

you held one of ellies hand over the photo and you gave her a small smile, “i wish i would have met him, he seems like he was a great dad els, i know he’d be proud of you.” she looked to meet your eyes, “thank you sweetheart… really thank you.” she smiles as she puts the picture back down. as soon as it was out of her hands, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around her and squeeze. she returned your hug instantly and rested her chin on your shoulder and her hands made their way to your hips.

“aw sweetheart what was that for?” ellie joked as she pulled her face away but kept her hands on your waist. you swear you skin burned every time she touched you.

“els cmon,” you rolled your eyes jokingly at her, “you know why, now are you ready to smoke?” you wiggled your eyebrows at her and she moved you guys towards the couch.

you both got comfy as ellie lit up a joint and you switched on the movie stepbrothers. you got comfy when ellie grabbed a big blanket from a basket next to her couch and she put it over both of you, you scooted closer to her, putting her arm over the back of the couch behind your neck and you cuddled close to her chest, breathing in the wonderful scent of her. as you started the movie, ellie leaned forward grabbing a joint off the table, putting in her mouth and lit it with her free hand.

she took a big hit and blew the smoke out. you watched her as she took her next hit. ellie realized you were watching her and couldn’t help but smile. “you know its rude to stare sweetheart?” she spoke as she took her last hit and held it out to pass to you.

“oops!,” you shook your head and grinned towards her, grabbing the joint as you looked at ellie’s tattooed arm, then back up at her face. the freckles that painted her cheeks and could help yourself as the words left your mouth, “you’re so beautiful els sorry can’t help it.”

you saw the blush creep up on her cheeks as she told you, “so are you sweetheart.”

eventually you guys finished the movie and ellie picked the next one, superbad, one of her favorites she told you, but you guys paused before you started it. ellie stood up and went to the kitchen on the other side of the living room. she looked through the cabinets until she pulled out a bag of doritos and some sprite in a can back to the coffee table for you to snack on during the movie.

when she sat, ellie lit up another a joint and you and her got comfy on the couch as you hit play on your next movie. smoking and laughing over the film, you and ellie got caught up in talking. it felt like you’d known each other for years, the way the conversation flowed and the way you guys connected. you could talk about anything for hours and you know you’d never get bored.

cue to the movie credits and the bag of chips is empty and the soda is drank up, you were laying on ellie’s couch, your legs spread over the top of her lap as she sat up, her hand rubbed up and down your leg under the blanket you were sharing. it was calming but still sent butterflies through your whole body everytime her long fingers made another pass up and down.

your eyes fixated on ellie as she picked up the remote and started looking for something else to watch. she scrolled through a bit before she turned to ask what you were thinking you guys should watch, catching you staring at her yet again. you were nervous to speak but what you wanted to ask her had to be said.

“when i’m with you i don’t feel so… alone.” you admitted to her, “i really like you els, i’ve never felt this way about anyone, i mean there was just one time i thought i did, but it wasn’t like this… this is different.” you paused, looking at her, her face was soft as she listened to you admit this and you can see the grin growing on her face as you finished speaking, “and i know we haven’t known each other long but the last thing i expected when i moved here was to met someone as great as you. i want this els… if you do to of course.” as soon as she knew you were done speaking, it happened so fast.

ellie’s lips connected with yours. she leaned over you as her free hand reached up to your left side of face to pull you closer to her, her other hand had moved from your leg to your thigh now. chills ran down your body as your lips moved with hers slowly but filled with urgency. your hand moved to the back of ellie’s neck, your fingers tangled in her hair and she couldn’t help the moan that escape from her mouth. you took that to to your advantage and introduced your tongue into the already deep kiss. “oh sweetheart,” she mumbled against your lips before copying your actions before she moved on top of you faster than you could blink.

ellie could feel your heart start beating faster as one of her legs slid between both of yours. your lips were warm against hers, the way your fingers stayed gripped in her hair as you pulled on it when the kiss grew sloppy but it was still passionate as ever. ellie needed you, in every possible. she wanted to feel your lips all over her, she loved the way your body molded to hers as she was on top of you, how you fit perfectly under her. how you moaned so low and that it made her body ache for more of you.

ellie couldn’t help but break apart the kiss as she got overwhelmed by her thoughts and had to catch her breath. as much as she wanted to keep kissing you like the world was ending, she didn’t want to rush this yet, yes she can’t wait for it to happen but it was worth the wait, she knew it would be worth it. foreams holding her up, ellie’s forehead rested against yours as she opened her eyes to see you, underneath her, practically panting with your eyes still shut as you caught your breath too.

ellie couldn’t help but lift her head off yours and stare at you while you laid under her like this. your hair was sprawled out messily against the pillow your head was resting on, your shirt was twisted around your body, and your lips were slightly pink and swollen. she could get used to this, ellie thought in her head, seeing you look this gorgeous in a position like this.

you opened your eyes to see ellie staring at you and smiled towards you as she started speaking, “i want you sweetheart.” she said, “i want this to happen, so badly.” she stopped as she pulled her hands up to your face again, hands on either cheek as she brought her head down to kiss you softly, “‘m gonna take you out on a real date sweetheart, ‘m gonna show you how much i want all this, all of you.” she said giving you another kiss, this one lasted a few seconds longer.

“els, i want you too.” you spoke as you placed a kiss on the lips of the the girl who’s on top of you right now. when you pulled back, ellie couldn’t help but place another peck on your lips before she sat up, moving from laying between your legs, but she did move them right back on her lap, sitting closer to you now. you smiled at her as she grabbed your hands with hers, rubbing them with her thumb over the backside as she started talking.

“i feel less alone when i’m with you too,” she took a deep breath before continuing, “‘m gonna get serious for a second if that’s okay?” she questioned looking up at you, you gave her a nod with a smile on your face, before she looked back down at your hands in hers, “joel… when he passed, we were finally starting to build a relationship again. we weren’t very close before he died, dumb shit happened and i just couldn’t forgive him… and as soon as i did, he was gone … it wrecked me- fuck ‘m sorry- its still wrecking me- he taught me so much, he showed me so much… the only time i’m not thinking about him is when i’m with you sweetheart. i hate talking about him, i feel like once i start im not gonna be able to stop but- i just- i need you to know that i’m trying… because you make me want to enjoy my life again.” you hung on everything she spoke, watching the words fall from her lips as she played with your fingers in her hand, a habit you notice she does to her own hands when she’s nervous.

“ellie, you’re not alone in this, i’m sorry you never fully got the closure you needed, you do not ever say you’re sorry for opening up about how you’re feeling, i’m listening if you ever do want to talk about it.. no pressure els but i think it helps to open up to someone and get some things off your chest. im always here for you ellie. i’m still wrecked about some things myself so just know there’s never any jugdgement from me,” you squeezed her hands in yours, showing her you were serious about what you were saying. she lifted her head to look at you, “you make me happy els, i didn’t think i’d get to experience this again…” you paused nervously before she gave your hands a gentle squeeze, showing you that she’s listening and giving you the courage to tell her what happened.

“back in new york, i was in a relationship with this girl. i lived there for about 4 years and we met during my second year of college through a mutual friend… it was great at first, ya know? we connected so fast that within a couple months of being together she ended up moving in with me, that was the first mistake,” you laughed to yourself before continuing, “once we lived in the same place, it made it so much easier for her to control me… she wouldn’t let me leave the house unless it was for work, i couldn’t see my friends, she came home drunk and angry all the time and always accused me of things i would never do, she’s the reason i had to drop out of college while she stayed enrolled and became a lawyer… ” you took a deep breath trying to contain your emotions, you didn’t like talking about this, you didn’t want ellie to see you as a victim. you were so much stronger than even you thought and you hoped she saw that side of you before the other one.

“she made me feel horrible and insecure, …she was extremely manipulative, also i knew she was sleeping with someone else too, i saw messages from her coworker and they were more than slightly suggestive,” you chuckled, almost losing your train of thought as you caught and held your focus to ellie’s hand touching yours comfortingly. “the first time she hit me… it could have been worse, that sounds bad but i don’t know. by the last time she hit me, i dreamed it was the first time again so that it wouldn’t hurt that much.” you could feel the tears well in your eyes.

“the day after when she left for work, i packed as much of my stuff as i could into my car and just left. i didn’t leave a note, i changed my phone number and deleted my social media. it was the best decision i ever made. i don’t know if this was too much to share but i wanted you to know that you aren’t alone in not being okay els, we got this.” you gave her hand a final squeeze as you waited for her to respond.

it took her a minute to process everything you said again before she spoke up, “oh sweetheart… ‘m so sorry that happened to you.” she said disconnecting her hands from yours to move them to hold both sides of your face, looking straight into your eyes, “you’re the most beautiful girl i have ever seen, i’m sorry that she made you feel like that, you don’t deserve any bit of that, wish i knew you back then so all of that never would have happened to you but i promise sweetheart, you will be safe with me. you will always be safe.”

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist :) thank u sm for the support!!!!

@lookforthelight1 @ucannotcompare @diddiqueen @mikellie @vvitchesh3x @benthoee @bready101 @all-things-0dd @bunlikean-angel @mulan-but-gay @lovejuliettq

#the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #tlou series #tlou game #ellie tlou #tlou2 #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us

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getyourdirtyhandsoffme · 5 months

Text

D-RIDING?! PART ONE

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

GENDER: FTM READER

SUMMARY: You are quite a popular YouTuber who makes random content for your fans to enjoy until one day you got drunk and "accidentally" posted a tweet in your official account making it go viral for not only the world to see, but even a certain idol you had a crush since 2019.

GENRE(S): Comedy, Fluff, A bit explicit (in part one), hurt/comfort a bit

WARNING(S): Didn't really proof read it or use a Grammer site to fix anything. If I got anything wrong well..ill fix it when I'm not tired (or not). If you haven't seen any BuzzFeed's thirst tweets, you have been warned. The reader is going through every stage of grief. Mentions of drinking, you being drunk, mentions of "Dick Riding", a few of thirsty comments. You're getting called "Pretty Boy." Explicit comments but nothing action, yet. You are a bottom (sorry y'all!) Kinda cringe. You fanboying non-stop.

CAREER: Idol-Bang Chan (26) + Youtuber-Y/N (25)

OTHER(S): all edited by me. Chan has a private channel but he did reveal his YouTube account in this story. Ethan, Antione and SanaVana are your best friends.

Some mistakes on the edits as well but wtv

Please reblog, like or/and comment!

(We are going to pretend this is around SKZ LALALA Era, thank you very much! Not restarting the edits!)

You couldn't believe your eyes when you opened Twitter (Or X...) As you see thousands of notifications of a certain post you made when you were drunk with your friends at a birthday party.

You felt yourself wanting to scream but all you could do is stare in shock, having your mouth hanging a bit while reading the comments stating that your idol, Bang Chan from StrayKids, read your tweet.

Not in private, but apparently he finally accepted an interview with BuzzFeed to read Thirst Tweets.

Since when did he have the balls to do that?

You groaned as you even saw the hashtags that were trending: #YnnityD-RIDE #BangChanThirstTweets #BuzzFeedBangChan #YnnityMoment

You honestly wanted to cry because you didn't know how to face your fans when you make a live stream later. You promised the fans that you were going to play that one horror game that your fans have been requesting.

At this point, you thought about just cancelling it while disappearing. Dramatic but you couldn't help it.

The Bang Chan read your tweet.

Well, you never saw the video and honestly you didn't want to. You found out that your tweet was not only read but even edited into the thumbnail with Bang Chan fine ass self beside it from a friend's screenshot.

You were mentally regretting this while weeping but you didn't want to disappoint your fans from a promise you made so you calmed yourself as you got ready to Go Live.

You place your mouse pad down and then connect a few wires into your computer. You went to your channel as you Go Live, with a title going by "Gaming and reacting to a certain video."

Just by that title, everyone immediately clicked the live.

You sat there, nervously biting your lip out of habit while fixing yourself in front of the camera.

You even waved to everyone while trying not to seem like you about to trust fall on top of a building.

"As you may see from this title, you probably know what certain video I'm going to watch, yes?"

Everyone commented "yes" while a few sent question marks but other than that they are curious of what the video is and my reaction.

"I didn't see the video yet but I immediately clicked on the app, saw my notifications, saw what's trending and even a screenshot from my friend. I am crazy embarrassed. I was drunk and the fact that she saw me tweeted this is the most crazy part. I knew she was my enemy since DAY ONE!" You shouted a bit at the end, joking but honestly not really as you make a dramatic 'number one' finger in front of the camera.

"Anyways, I already got it set up, just let me know if you guys can hear it or not..."

You mentally screamed as you tried to click on the video but you were so hesitant that the fans called you out on it.

"Y'all, we got it! Hold up, I'm just scared of how he is going to react! Ahhh!" You grabbed your forehead as you finally clicked on it.

You watched as Chan nervously laughed at the camera while introducing himself with his hot Australian accent. You felt yourself smiling as you tried not to fanboy just by his introduction.

"Ah, Hello everyone and my lovely stays! My name is Bang Chan, the leader of StrayKids, you can even call me Chris, and today...I'm finally reading your crazy thirst tweets. I don't know how I mentally agreed to this but I am curious so let's get started shall we, BuzzFeed?"

Chan chuckles nervously as he holds a plastic container full of thirst tweets.

You commented how cute he was while admiring him, ignoring slightly at your fans chat box, even not noticing a certain someone has joined your live stream and even commenting as well making the chat go crazy as they try to grab for your attention.

You continue on watching, make a few comments on the thirst tweets, stating that you agreed with half of the tweets he was reading while cooed on his blushing face:

"I want to ride his big nose"

"I wonder what else is big besides his nose, feet and butt if you know what I'm saying"

"I want that man to manhandle me so bad, it's not funny anymore."

"I want him to fuck me so bad! Uhhh PLEASE DADDY!"

You couldn't help help but laugh at a few, almost forgetting that your tweet was in this video until finally, almost at the end of the video, he pulls the last strip of paper and reads:

"Dick Riding? Yes I am. I'm jumping, hopping, creaming, screaming and latching...onto this man dick until we can't anymore. And in parentheses. We not stopping."

Chan covers his face while laughing as he re-reads the tweet again.

"Jeez, this person really must have that much energy to be going in several rounds. Not only that, this person is verified...how confident you are to send this in your official account. Not gonna lie, I feel like I know who this is..."

He squints as he tries to remember.

"I'll probably figure it out later but thank you! I don't think I have enough energy for that but we can try, yeah? Haha!"

Your eyes wide as you literally scream, jumping around and running around the room then stop running as you walk back, rewatching that clip again.

"Wait, he knows me? HE RECOGNIZES MY ACCOUNT- WAIT WHOA!" That's when you sat down on your gaming chair, literally looking like you were about to sink into the floor as you make your eyes focus on the chat that seems to be spamming non-stop.

You lean in, reading the chat as you questioned them what's wrong until you notice a channel you recognized. Of course who wouldn't recognize it, you literally have a crush on him.

The one and only Bang Chan was watching your live.

At this point, you just accepted your fate as you face palmed yourself as more comments started laughing at you.

"Om my goodness, this cannot be real. Ain't no way you are watching this stream..." You nervously said as you see him commented how cute you were.

You smiled as you started to fanboy again.

"This is so embarrassing you guys!"

Time went by as you ended your live stream. You immediately grabbed your phone and laid down on your bed as you opened Twitter (X) to see Bangchan following you.

You followed him back immediately which I guess it got his attention as he immediately texted you.

CB97: Hey, Y/N! It's nice to finally meet you, well through text that is, haha!

Ynnity: I can't believe you not only read my tweet and joined my live, you even FOLLOWED ME IN HERE!? You must be crazy!

CB97: Of course, I even have you subscribed and followed your Instagram on a private account!

CB97: And crazy? Aren't you the crazy one who sent a tweet on your official account stating you wanted to, and I quote, "Jump, hop, cream, scream, and latch onto my dick non-stop" pretty boy?

Ynnity: HELLO?

CB97: Haha, I'm just saying. Plus, you're funny so why not become friends. I'm quite a big fan of you!

You stared at his text, mostly the part when he called you a "Pretty boy" made you roll around the bed, giggling like a damn school girl. Even surprised that he was a big fan, making even more embarrassed since you always mentioned him in certain videos.

Ynnity: Sure!

Ynnity: hope you don't mind how awkward I'm going to be for a bit..I'm still embarrassed.

CB97: That's fine! I don't mind and there isn't anything to be embarrassed about baby, it's cute how you reacted

CB97: You really do love me, huh? Hahaha

You rolled your eyes as you typed your response.

Ynnity: yeah yeah whatever

CB97: Acting like that even though I literally watched your live stream and saw you admiring and commenting my every move

CB97: Anyways, I read a few of your tweets and one caught my eye

CB97: well, besides that thirst tweet, that's my fav-

CB97: That you are going to see our concert, yeah?

All you did was send a 'thumbs up' emoji, indicating that it was true that you saved up money to be in front row seats to see SKZ performance on the 3rd day.

CB97: Cool! Can't wait to see you in person! However, I need to get back to work, I'll talk to you...well you text me when you are up! Bye bye, pretty boy!

YNNITY: don't overwork yourself old man and yes bye bye to you as well!

You laughed when Chan sent a 'thumbs down' emoji as you turned off your phone, smiling again at the ceiling. You couldn't believe it, you can't wait to go to their concert in three days.

Two days have already passed as you already got dressed up for this concert.

Today is the 3rd and last day of their performance.

You are wearing a black waist coat where your belly and other skin is showing along with a leather black jacket, baggy black pants with a nice star belt around It, a spikey silver necklace and black shoes.

You brought a coat just in case it gets cold as you took pics and uploaded it onto Twitter (X), feeling cute.

You rolled your eyes at your friend's immediate response to your tweet as you walked out of your house, stepped into your car as you get ready to pick up the three dorks.

While driving to their destination, you couldn't help but think about what Chan texted you yesterday.

He is excited to see YOU.

You were biting your lip as you tried to not show a smile when you picked up Antione and apparently Ethan who were standing outside of Antione house, waiting.

They both ran inside, Antione taking the front row while Ethan sit in the back.

You then drove off again to pick up Savannah while the two teased you non-stop about getting noticed by your so called 'Future Husband' which they did stop after you threatened them that you will crash this car if they don't shut up.

You finally picked up Savannah who was excited to see StrayKids, mostly seeing all the pretty lady fans as she comments about wanting to see this one girl that she has been texting the last 5 months.

You laughed with your friends, easing your anxiety down. You all couldn't wait to go while singing, well trying to sing, the songs on the radio.

You all made it into the concert, immediately at the front seat, waiting for the concert to start. Antione had his banner ready, holding a sign that says "Changbin, date me!"

Ethan holds up a LeeBit Plushie, shaking it around while holding a picture of Lee Know next to it.

Savannah holds a sign that just says "The Lesbians (Me) loves you!"

You did think about bringing a sign but all you brought was yourself and friends along with a small Wolfchan keychain hanging around your belt area.

A bunch of fans have showed up—some recognized you as they asked to take pictures, which of course you said yes, taking a few while waving them goodbye. Even Savannah gets to meet the woman that she was talking about, laughing and flirting a bit.

As all of you continue on chattering while the whole stadium gets filled with a bunch of fans, the screens turn on showing a special StrayKids clip, showing all the members walking and posing.

Everyone screams along with you and your friends as well as you see them rising up from below the stage, into positions, ready to perform Megaverse.

You smiled, jumping a bit as the loud music started playing along with fans chanting.

You took out your phone as you started to record while singing some of the lines.

Throughout the whole concert, you and Chan were flirting around when he found you while performing Blind Spot.

He couldn't help but smile in your direction while giving you small hearts. He even goes up to you sometimes, singing a few lines—teasing you—as he walks off.

Even your friends teased you about it, again.

The concert was about to end, your whole body was practically tired from all the screaming and standing up for too long but it was worth it.

All the members lined up as they all said their thankful speech, waving all of them goodbye and couldn't wait to see their fans again next time.

You and your friends left as you forced Ethan to drive since you were so tired.

You were sitting in the front row while Antione and Savannah talked amongst themselves, sometimes Ethan joining in. While that was happening, you open Twitter to see a bunch of notifications again.

Some @ you, showing pictures with your fans along with pictures or videos of you having a moment with Chan.

You smiled as you liked all of them until you got a text from Chan, you clicked the message notification and read what he has sent you.

CB97: Hey, did you enjoy the concert?

CB97: Also you look very handsome with that outfit, very alluring.

You giggled quietly as you quickly replied to him.

Ynnity: of course I enjoyed the concert and thank you! I did say I was trying to attract people in my tweets~

CB97: You did.

CB97: You even got me as well, that one comment from your friend made me laugh that you wanted to be in my Dingie Doom Dum haha!

Ynnity: Well, what if I do? What you going to do about it hm?

Not sure where all that bravery came from but you did it. You waited for him to respond as you did see him trying to type something.

CB97: Well aren't you a brave one.

CB97: why don't you find out. I'll come to you unless you are just trying to flirt. I don't mind as long as you don't mind, love

CB97: I can make that thirst tweet into reality~

You froze as Ethan made it to his house. Seems like you were the only one left as you both stepped out, hugged each other and left.

You stepped back into your car, turning it on and drove off. You wanted to respond, but you didn't want to drive while text so you kinda drove home as fast as you can, feeling yourself getting too excited.

When you made it home, you quickly parked as you stepped out of the car and ran to the front door of your house, unlocking it.

You took out your phone again and responded to him.

Ynnity: Sorry, I was driving

You hesitated for a bit even though you were the one who started it until you finally typed out what you wanted to say.

Ynnity: I don't mind, but how are you supposed to get here? You rented a car?

You took off your shoes, placing them on a shoe rack as you take off your clothes while walking to your bedroom.

You dumped your clothes in a laundry bag, opening the closet to grab your pajamas then walked to the bathroom to take a shower.

Your phone buzzed. You grab and see what he has said.

CB97: I did actually.

CB97: Send me your location, I will be there after I take a shower

You bit your lip as you sent your location, turning your phone off after that.

You step inside the shower, feeling the nice warmth of water hitting your skin as you fantasize about Chan kissing you and touching you.

You wanted this and the fact it's with your idol crush turns you on. You couldn't wait as you continued on taking a shower.

TO BE CONTINUED...

PART ONE -> PART TWO (COMING SOON)

I never wrote smut before 🐺 this sht gonna be crazy. I'm about to fight for my life.

515 notes · View notes

skz317cb97 · 1 year

Note

Okay I read something like this for another fandom and it was actually soo good.

I was wondering if you'd write something with Bang Chan/Chris in mind if you're taking any fic requests :)

In a world where upon their first touch, soulmates (Bang Chan/Chris x female reader) are overcome with a sudden and overwhelming need to fuck each other

Please and thanks if you can

Office Space

Bang Chan × Female reader

Word count: 1.8K

Synopsis: You live in a world where one touch of your soulmate will ignite a pathological urge to consummate your bond. What happens when you bump into the cute guy from the office and it appears as though you've found your match?

A/N: 18+ ONLY! I hope this is to your liking! I had fun writing it! Such a great idea! Than you so much for sending it in! If you all like this one give it a reblog, like, comment, hit up my ask box, whatever! As always warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, semi public sex in a locked office no one knows), unprotected sex (please use condoms), cream pie. I think that's it not anything too crazy but if I missed something please let me know and I'll add it asap!

The same thing happened to everyone. Once you turned twenty-one, if you came into physical contact with your soulmate your body had an overwhelming primal desire to claim each other physically. Fuck. It was a big talking point when you start going through sex ed in junior high. You heard the same thing you always did with anything else that had to do with sexual education. ‘It’s perfectly normal’ or ‘It happens to everyone’.

No matter how true that was, it didn’t make the topic any less uncomfortable to talk about for some people, you being one of those people. You avoided anything that had to do with soulmates but when you turned twenty-one you went to a psychic with some friends and the lady who read your fortune said that your soulmate’s name would be Chris and his last name had something to do with a gun or fireworks, an explosion maybe, she wasn’t sure and you weren’t buying any of it.

By the time you were twenty-five a few of your friends had already found their soulmates. You didn’t have time for that nonsense. Your career was your soulmate. You were the lead of your department’s team and it was no easy feat getting to that position. There were eight other teams all the leads for those departments were men.

Most but not all of them you had met in passing regularly. There was one that you had never even been introduced to but you heard people calling him Chan. You couldn’t lie to yourself, he was gorgeous. Strong nose, kind eyes, pouty lips, shoulders for days, and well, he definitely had a good tailor because his ass... You had to stop thinking like that, you didn’t know the man. You didn’t know his last name, you had never even heard his voice.

Well, that was about to change really soon. Today when you got to work the head of your branch was pulling all team leads in for a meeting so you and the eight other men, including Chan, had to meet in meeting room three immediately after lunch. Around one thirty all nine of you promptly met your boss.

There were eight other people there and you were trying not to be distracted by one person in general. It was difficult, you didn’t know why. You were able to keep up with the meeting but about halfway into your boss's third bullet point you were getting warm and took off your sweater. The dress you wore was sleeveless, you were hoping you could cool off. You were trying not to look at him but your eyes found him anyway as you shrugged your cardigan off. When you did you found his eyes already on you, something in them.

“Chan?” Your boss had called him twice now and he snapped out of it and realized you noticed him staring, he quickly looked away. You could see his ears turning red.

“Yes sir?” Your boss asked Chan to present what his team had been working on this quarter, asked a few questions about Chan’s team, and where he’d like to see things go in the next quarter. Chan had an answer for everything and it came out as smooth as butter with his thick Australian accent, which you had not been expecting.

When Chan was done the boss called on you to do the same thing. You stood and started walking forward as Chan was headed back to his seat. The walkway was narrow, you went to step around each other but stepped in the same direction, you both kind of nervously laughed and then stepped in the same direction again.

“Sorry,” His slender fingers gently gripped your shoulder and he stepped behind you. His cologne was intoxicating and it was like one touch set your whole body on fire. When he passed you and headed to his seat you looked behind you for a second but he was already pulling out his chair. You tried to ignore the feeling in the pit of your stomach and focused on your presentation.

One by one all of the guys had to go up and do the same thing. It drug on forever if felt like. The throbbing between your legs was unbearable, you didn’t think you could press your thighs together any harder. Chan just seemed to be intently listening to whichever one of the guys was presenting, seemingly unbothered. Finally your boss dismissed you all you were thanking the stars you could finally get out of there and away from Chan before you made a fool of yourself. Just before you could make your haste, exit Chan called your name.

“Oh excuse me, y/n? Would you mind coming to my office and running over a couple things about your team that I think I’d like to implement with mine?” You almost choked.

“Y-your office?” He nodded; he was acting perfectly normal. You’d thought, well... you’d thought maybe he was your soulmate with the way you were feeling but apparently, you're just a horny perv that thinks about fucking their co-workers.

“If you’re busy...” You didn’t want to seem impolite or like you weren’t a team player, he was really giving you a huge compliment by asking for such a thing. You just needed to get a hold of yourself.

“No! Uhehm, no I’m not busy... I’d be happy to go over whatever you’d like.” That sounded like more than it should have you felt like but he still seemed totally nonchalant. He bowed and then led the way, you following the trail of whatever cologne he was wearing. Chan opened the door and let you in first.

You walked into his office nervous, hoping you could keep control of yourself because you had never felt so out of control in your life. As soon as you were in his office Chan came in too, then shut and locked the door. You turned to him and he walked up on you quickly. Your heart started racing, his hands gently cradled your face, his now a breath away from yours.

“God please tell me you feel this too.” You were so relieved, you pulled him into a kiss as your answer. You had to taste his lips, they looked so juicy, a little red from worrying at them. You pulled away for a breath and backed towards his desk pulling him by his tie gently. He had a wicked smile on his face and followed. You sat on the desk legs spread, skirt riding up a bit and Chan nestled himself between your thighs, gripping your hips before kissing you again. You wrapped your arms around his wide shoulders and scooched forward.

“I’ve had the biggest crush on you since I started here.” He admitted suddenly, lips hovering over yours. You couldn’t help how big your smile got.

“Really?” He nodded biting at his lips and then kissing you again, his tongue sliding into your mouth, tasting you until oxygen was needed.

“I’ve always noticed you too, it’s always kind of scared me.” You panted out. One of Chan’s hands was on your waist the other tracing your jaw.

“You don’t have to be scared baby girl.” You felt warm all over hearing him say that.

“I know.” You lifted your skirt more then hooked your fingers into the side of your panties and pulled them over, exposing your dripping sex to him. He looked down and his mouth watered but then he forced himself to look back up at you.

“Are you sure?” You nodded and pulled at him desperately.

“Mhmm.” You needed him. Chan started to unbuckle his pants, pulling them down and just as he was about to pull down his briefs, exposing the large outline in them, he realized something.

“Oh... uh... I don’t have a condom.” You looked at him sweetly, a little shy, you always were when it came to this stuff.

“Well... it’s just... together forever, right? I mean, that’s what this means... doesn’t it?” Chan cupped your face and nodded his eyes sparkling.

“Together forever.” He kissed you softly.

“I’m on the pill, so... it’s okay.” He shook his head, then dropped his underwear and you got a full view of what had been straining against the stretchy fabric of his briefs. You gnawed at your lips and he didn’t waste time. Chan wrapped your legs around him and lined up with your wet hole. When he sank into you it finally made sense.

“Yes... fuck... f-feels so good baby girl. Please wanna hear you say my name, tell me how you want it beautiful.”

“Chan yes fuck... harder, fuck me harder...” Chan fucked you harder, panting and moaning just as much as you. You loved how he wasn’t scared to make a little bit of noise for you. Not enough for anyone outside the office to hear but enough to make you drip for him. Chan shook his head no.

“C-call me Chris...”

“What?” You stopped him and looked into his eyes, your soulmate’s eyes.

“C-Chris, my real first name is Chris...” I’ll be goddamned, you thought to yourself.

“What’s your last name?” He smirked at you with a funny look on his face, laughing a little.

“Seems like an unusual time to ask. Wanna know what yours is gonna be in the future?” You flushed and smiled.

“It’s Bang.” He kissed you. The fucking psychic was right.

“Why does everyone call you Chan?” He pushed a stray hair away and you couldn’t help but lean into his warmth.

“It’s my middle name and there is a lot of Chris’ on our team. So I go by Chan in the office, but everywhere else, I’m Chris and I’d very much prefer to be Chris when I’m inside you. He rolled his hips and your eyes rolled back.

“Mmmm Chris...” He started fucking you harder egged on by you using his actual first name.

“huhuhu Chrisss...” Harder harder harder he kept pounding into you. He loved it he wanted more.

“C-C-Chr-risss... g-gonna... gonna cum.” A light sweat was starting to break out on Chan’s forehead as he pushed you harder towards your climax. Your arms wrapped around him hand fulls of his beautiful curls.

“God fuck I’m gonna cum too... fuck! Cum with me baby girl... cum with me.” He snapped his hips into yours again, brushing your g spot and you went nose diving into your orgasm clutching onto his muscular frame tightly, gasping for air. As soon as your cunt started clenching around Chan he started coming too, pushing deep inside as he filled you.

You both held each other, your legs wrapped around him, foreheads pressed together, trying to catch your breath. Once both your heartbeats returned to normal Chan helped you off his desk and pulled your skirt down for you. You adjusted his tie and he leaned in kissing you again.

“Uh do you maybe wanna grab some dinner tonight?” You smiled and tried to help tame his curls a bit after mussing them when you came.

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @jisuperboard @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy @svintsandghosts @the-sweetest-rose @alice05280 @3rachasninja @m0ri-apeuda @eastleighsblog @linoification @mlink64 @smally97 @fun-fanfics

“I’d love to Chris.”

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #chris bang smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤#cal's requests🖤#minnysproutgriffinteddy

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withleeknow · 6 months

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wishful thinking. (01)

chapter one: flutter

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genre: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut warnings: implied smut, aftercare, mentions of alcohol consumption, hints of oc being a little emotionally constipated lol, barely edited but we should all be used to seeing that from me atp word count: 2.3k note: eeeek my first lino series is here 🥺 there's not much substance in the first part bc we're mostly just setting things up. thank you to my wifeus in the obs server (you know who you are ofc) for being the best cheerleaders, bc i don't think i would've gone through with writing this fic if it wasn't for you. fwb lino probably would've had to gather dust in the attic if you hadn't encouraged me to write him. thank you and love you <3

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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Tomorrow when it's over and we're sober I just want to believe that you'll miss me But I shouldn't 'cause we're just friends Now we're day drunk in the back seat of a taxi And you're telling me you wanna kiss me But we shouldn't 'cause we're just friends

Just Friends - Virginia to Vegas

“Minho.”

“Hmm?”

“Get off of me.”

He doesn’t, of course. Because Minho is stubborn and Minho does whatever he wants sometimes. “No,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing a soft kiss there that makes the stupid thing in your chest flutter against your will. You don’t let yourself indulge in the feeling for too long though, only a second. “You’re too warm.”

“Min,” you scold lightly, but you can’t say that you don’t enjoy having his body on yours like this. It’s different than when you’re having sex, because this is more intimate somehow, just him holding you - or rather, resting the entirety of him on top of you like the human version of a weighted blanket. Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am! but with a Minho-esque flare that he doesn’t have to appease you with, but chooses to anyway.

One of the reasons why you don’t let yourself relish in the moment is because intimacy isn’t what you signed up for. In fact, it’s the complete opposite of what you both agreed on. No strings attached - it was the only instruction, plain and simple.

And so you nudge his shoulder again, making him sigh and begrudgingly sit up, in all of his post-sex glory. Disheveled fluffy hair, a couple of fading marks on his neck courtesy of you, kiss-swollen lips and a kind of glow that you’re fairly certain matches your own.

“Hang on,” Minho says, I’ll get you a towel.”

He quickly throws on his boxers - previously discarded on the floor - and heads to your bathroom. He returns to your side just a couple minutes later with said item in hand, dabbing the soft cloth at your core tenderly.

“You okay?” he asks. “I wasn’t too rough on you tonight?”

You like the aftercare, and how tender he always is with you. You’re not sure if that’s the extra effort that he puts in with everyone he’s ever hooked up with, or if you two are just naturally comfortable around each other, but it’s reassuring. It’s nice to know that this agreement between the two of you hasn’t tarnished your friendship.

Yet?

Yet.

“You were perfect,” you tell him with a coy smile. “I was the one who asked for it anyway.”

Minho chuckles, then pats your bare thigh for good measure as he takes one final swipe at your core before chucking the towel into the laundry basket in the corner of your room.

He plops onto your bed again, propping himself on an elbow so he could look down at your face, highlighted only by the dim light of the small lamp on your bedside table. The way that his bicep flexes still puts you in a bit of a trance, even though you’ve seen it probably hundreds of times already.

“You know, I was pretty surprised when you asked me to try that with you,” he says, eyeing your mouth again. “Didn’t think you’d be down for experimenting new things with me.”

“Well, who else am I supposed to try things out with?”

You’re not even sure what you meant - the words just rolled off your tongue - but you don’t miss the instantaneous look of pride on his face. To hear something like that from you is clearly an ego boost for him.

You don’t miss the subtle blush that tints both of his cheeks and the top of his ears either, but you don’t dwell on it for very long.

Come to think of it, you don’t let yourself indulge in a lot of things when you’re around him.

His free hand comes up to draw imaginary patterns along your arm, starting from your shoulder, down to your elbow, then across your forearm until you could feel his fingers on the back of your hand. “I forgot to mention earlier,” he says, tracing what you think is an invisible outline of a heart on your skin. “Hyunjin knows.”

“Knows what?” you ask.

“He knows that we’re hooking up,” Minho tells you, then clarifies when he sees your eyes widening. “Well, he doesn’t know that it’s you. He knows that I’m hooking up with someone.”

You mimic his position, propping yourself up on one elbow so your face is more leveled with his, evidently alarmed at the mention of your friend finding out about a secret that you've been trying to hide for months now.

No, a secret would imply that you have more things you have to conceal. It’s probably more accurate to refer to it as the secret.

Sometimes, even you yourself wonder why this is something you need to hide from everyone.

It’s not like you’re living in the Victorian era where people are scandalized by the appearance of a bare knee. It’s not like your friends are prudes either; most of them have had their fair share of friends with benefits. It’s all casual, all in good fun.

But maybe it’s because it’s Minho that you’re currently… preoccupied with, that makes you feel less inclined to share with the rest of the group.

If any of them catches wind of this, you know they’ll have loads to say about it, starting with a thorough but well-intentioned lecture from Chan.

You were good friends before your thing started.

You had a friendship. You had something to lose.

You don’t know why you would even risk it in the first place.

It just happened.

One particularly lonely night. You had some alcohol in your system, and that always made you more sentimental than usual. There was something romantic in the air, or maybe that’s just what you thought looking at everything through the lenses of three glasses of wine. Not drunk, just buzzed enough to be reminded that Minho was one of the most beautiful people you’d ever laid your eyes upon.

But the accumulation of all those factors didn’t matter - couldn’t have mattered - more than the fact that he was there for you.

He listened to you brood over how suffocated you felt, how stagnant your life was, how nothing seemed to be going the way you wanted no matter how hard you tried. He didn’t offer you unsolicited advice, didn’t make you feel silly for moping. He was a soothing presence and that was enough for you.

Sometimes, your friends liked to say that you two would make a good couple because of how compatible you were. Chan once commented that you and Minho were a perfect fit, and that was what kept plaguing your mind moments before you kissed Minho for the first time.

Maybe you’re the missing piece of my puzzle, you had thought back then. My perfect fit.

You had pulled away after a couple of seconds, mortified, but his reaction was immediate. He’d chased after your lips again, no questions asked.

You knew it was a rash decision, spurred on by the heat of the moment and cheap convenience store rosé. Minho was so… goddamn addictive after just one taste that you couldn’t resist anymore. Having him felt like you finally had a taste of water after spending years deprived.

Needless to say, he ended up in your bed that night. The rest is… well, it doesn’t take a genius to deduce the subsequent series of events that led you here.

“Elaborate,” you say with an arch of your eyebrow.

“You texted when he was hanging out at my place and I was in the bathroom.” Minho shrugs. “That nosy little thing. He scrolled through quite a bit of our texts too.”

You frown. “He read our texts but he doesn’t know it’s me?”

“I don’t have you saved as your name.”

“Then what do you have me saved as?”

Up until now, you never even thought about this, and you’ve always just assumed that you’re in his contacts under your name, like he is in your list. Well, technically you have him saved as ‘Min’, but anyone who comes across it could still easily identify who you’re referring to.

Minho purses his lips, contemplating for a minute before he ultimately decides to withhold this information from you. He gives you a teasing smile, another shrug, before saying, “That’s for me to know and for you to find out when the time comes.”

“I don’t get to know what my own name is in your phone? Even Hyunjin knows, apparently.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know it’s you, so what does he really even know?”

“But I have a right-”

“Shhh.” Then he’s leaning forward to shush you with a quick kiss to your lips. It does the job, because you shut right the hell up. It surprises you every time he kisses you when you’re not in the middle of sex. Moments like these are rare, but you’re always rendered speechless by how casually he does it, how familiar the simple action is even when it shouldn’t be, and most of all, you’re dumbstruck by just how right it feels.

“Am I gonna see you before Yeonjun’s party on Saturday?” he asks, like nothing even happened. Your lips are tingling from a simple peck. It’s so silly, considering how just half an hour ago, he was literally inside of you, pounding you into oblivion until you had tears streaming down your face. Until you were crying out his name like it was the only word you’d ever known.

You quickly regain your composure. “I don’t know, maybe. I have a final paper to finish so I’ll probably be holed up here or at the library,” you tell him. “Maybe we’ll catch each other on campus. But if not, then, yeah, I’ll see you at the party.”

Minho seems disappointed, evident from his immediate and adorable pout.

“It’s just a few days.” You roll your eyes harmlessly, lying back down again to snuggle into your pillow. “You’ll live.”

“Will I?” he grumbles. “What am I supposed to do for four whole days?”

“Don’t you have your finals too?”

“All presentations and papers. Finished the last one today.”

“Oh,” you say, mildly impressed by the fact. You always forget how studious he actually is. “Internships?”

“Already sent in my applications.”

“Changbin says you’ve been talking to that girl Hana in your class.”

You don’t know why you brought it up. You don’t even like hearing the words coming out of your own mouth.

Minho makes a face, almost like he’s taken aback that Changbin would even tell you that. “Because we’re in the same group for our final presentation,” he informs you.

“She seems nice, from what I’ve heard about her. Seems like she has a big fat crush on you too.”

“Not to sound mean, but I don’t really care about that.”

A feeling blooms in the pit of your stomach, a feeling that you cannot and will not give a name to. There’s just something about the way he said it, steadfast, without any hesitation.

“It does make you sound a bit mean,” you tell him.

“I’m just not interested in her.”

“I don’t want to hold up the Minho train if there are other options out there that you want to explore.”

Do you mean it? Yes and no. Part of you wants to be nosy and prod until he fesses up about a potential love interest in his life - if there even is one - so that you could be a good friend that tell him to just go for it, but your curiosity is eclipsed by your selfishness, because you realize that you don’t really want to know if it means the end of this.

Are you being a hypocrite?

Yeah, probably.

He bites his bottom lip as if in thought, just briefly, before he rolls over to lie on his back, staring up at your boring ceiling. “I told you, I don’t care. I’m not interested in any other girl,” he says.

Realistically, you know there will be a finale. It’s only inevitable. One day, he’ll get a girlfriend, or you’ll get a boyfriend - the former seems more likely than the latter - and this arrangement between the two of you will have run its course. Null and void.

It’s part of the reason why you never let yourself relish in him, because you will only be thoroughly disappointed when he gets taken away from you.

As if he’s ever been yours to begin with.

You’ve never belonged to him either.

Neither of you owes the other anything at all.

You blink away the dazed look in your eyes, humming a noncommittal noise in irresolute agreement, before reaching for your phone to check the time. It’s not that late, half an hour shy of midnight, and his place isn’t that long a walk from yours. You know full well that it isn’t much of an excuse, and yet…

“It’s late.”

“Can’t I stay over?” He turns his head to look at you. “I’ll be good. I’ll just sleep next to you.”

“No can do,” you say. “I have a class at 10AM.”

“Me too. I can walk you to campus,” he insists.

There’s something unspoken in his gaze that you can sense but can’t translate. It’s been happening more often lately - you not being able to read him as easily as you could before. You have to admit that it makes you a little unsettled. The unknown that swims in the dark sepia of his eyes.

But maybe you’re overthinking this. Maybe you’re making something out of absolutely nothing.

“Go home, Minho,” you decide, leaving him no room to protest. The instant kicked puppy look on his face makes you feel a little bad, thus prompting you to continue, “I’ll try to see you on campus, okay?”

He looks at you for another moment before he sits up unwillingly. It seems like he has something else to say - something other than a butthurt comment about being bored out of his mind over the next few days - but in the end, he gives up. You notice the way his shoulders slightly slump as he exhales, “Okay.”

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604to647 · 5 months

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Fics that Live in My Mind, Rent Free (Pedro's Version) - Part 2

Welp! It seems there are link and tag limits? Who knew? Not this newb 😂😂 When I said that I've read so many good fanfics, I really meant it. Again, below the cut is a continuation of the list of some of my fave Pedro character fanfics that I've read on this site - ones I think about and revisit often. These are all fics I should have/would have reblogged if only I wasn't so weirdly nervous about it; in 2024 we will muster up some courage and reblog (it will be slow, probably, but I promise I will be trying!). This is a good time for me to also say that one of the reasons I am motivated to step out of my comfort zone on this is because of the genuine joy every comment/reblog/like has brought me this year as a new writer - thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the kind reception on anything I have ever posted. 🥹 ilysm 😘

Anyways, we press forward (Part 1 of Rent Free PPCU fics can be found here):

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian, GOAT)

Of Shadows and Roses by @the-scandalorian (Bodyguard!Din x Royalty!Reader)

All Mine by @mellowswriting (Possessive!Din after Reader uses herself as bait)

Narcissus by @bits-and-babs (Armour/mirror sex)

Looking out for you by @beskarandblasters (Jealous!Din after Reader uses herself as bait)

Cherry Liqueur by @decembermidnight (Reader teases Mando in public)

Breaking in the New House by @beskarandblasters (I love Husband!Din and Wife!Reader fics)

Javier Pena (Narcos)

Sweet Dreams by @javiscigarette (Javi can't sleep)

Phone Sex...amiright? by @tightjeansjavi (Reader calls Javi at work)

Sharing is Caring by @ezrasversion (Corrupt DEA Agent!Javi, Mafia AU!Joel Miller, Reader Threesome)

The Saint, the Sinner, and the Devil by @joelsgirl (Corrupt DEA Agent!Javi, DBF Mafia AU!Joel Miller, Reader Threesome)

MIA by @itsharleystuff (Jealous!Javi with Undercover!Reader)

Surprising Javi P with a Lingerie Set by @swiftispunk

Not here...not now by @gracieispunk (Reader visits Javi at work)

Bunny by @whatsnewalycat (Sex Phone Operator!Reader; Part 2 is great too!)

Ease by @javiscigarette (Javi takes care of Reader after a bad day)

Joel Miller (TLOU)

Say It Right, Peeping Neighbour, and Right Place, Right Time by @chaotic-mystery (All the DBF and BFD fics are amazing; these are my fave)

Quickie by @joelscruff (This falls in the middle of the Boyfriend's Dad series, but it's the first one I read and I was hooked!)

That Funny Feeling by @bluebeary-jay (Joel loves pet names 🥹)

I've Got Lust on My Tongue by @itgetsdark-x (Bratty reader a la Maddy Perez)

The Babysitter, Part 1 by @proxima-writes (There's a Part 2 as well!)

Under the Table by @toxicanonymity (A lot of good Joelkemons, but Speakeasy is a classic and maybe my fave?)

Online Friends, Sticking it to the PTA, and Caught Sunbathing by @walkintotheriveranddisappear (All of Emma's Joel fics are really hot [honestly you can't go wrong], but these are my faves)

Late Night Smoke by @bettercallwillow (Dbf smoking. sigh)

Calling Joel Daddy by @inkedells (I honestly love it when authors bold the dirty talk 🤭)

Gimme What I Want and In the Next Room by @atticrissfinch (The masterlist is some of the hottest Joel fic, if I may say so; these are my faves)

An Open Window by @velvetmud (Joel being a peeping tom; I also always hope for a sequel to this one!)

Crave by @toxic-seduction (Part 2; Reader finds Joel in the QZ)

Good Luck Charm by @javiscigarette (Joel watches the football game)

Ravish by @psychedelic-ink (Webcam Model!Reader; Part 2 is also incredible!)

I Know it When I see It by @bageldaddy (Pornstars!Joel and Readers. This series has me and everyone else, I think, in a chokehold. Reading, as well, the writer's thoughts and feelings about the porn industry and the care put into the characters is such a joy and makes the fic that much more rich)

Chaser series by @livingemkayde (Nanny!Reader and a love triangle; not finished but so good I'm happy to wait forever)

Right my Wrongs by @chloeangelic (Father in Law!Joel)

In A Feud with Her Neighbour by @proxima-writes (Read this delicious fic and the bonus scenes will be the icing on top)

Kiss and Tell by @toxic-seduction (Stepdad!Joel and mom goes away for the weekend)

Peaches and Cream by @javiscigarette (Joel buys reader peaches)

Didn't Cha Know by @chloeangelic (The Joel Reader has been pining for is her boyfriend's brother)

Gif to breakup the text block:

Camgirl by @phuckinphia (Another Camgirl but this time she's Sarah's friend 🫣)

The Right Wrong Number by @proxima-writes (Sarah's soccer coach!Reader)

Nightmares by @fruispunk (QZ!Reader has nightmares that Joel hears and mistakens for something else)

Damage Done by @bluebeary-jay (Joel accidentally triggers Reader; mind the tags. Heavy angst, heavy topic that is beautifully written)

Yes, Mr. Miller by pedropascallme (Babysitter!Reader, Part 2 Thank You, Mr. Miller is also excellent)

How Long series by @gracieheartspedro (Link is to Part 1; series is complete and wonderfully hot and emotional. Reader's boyfriend Tommy is a cheat😢)

Francisco "Catfish" Morales (Triple Frontier)

Fictional Death by @psychedelic-ink (Frankie comforts Reader)

Well Fed by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (Frankie is HAPPY 🥹)

Forest Ranger AU by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (I'm not an outdoorsy person but this AU makes me wish I was)

It's Always the Quiet Ones by @thot-of-khonshu (Frankie surprises Reader)

Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)

Kinktober 2022 - Breeding by @moralesispunk (Guard!Pero and Royalty!Reader)

Bodily Exchange by @absurdthirst (Mafia AU!Pero and daughter of mafia boss Reader)

Damnation or Salvation by @absurdthirst (Pero is sent to retrieve Reader)

Dying Wish by @absurdthirst (Pero makes Reader's father a promise; okay at this point, just all of Keri's Pero fics 🤭)

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

Beat Poetry on Amphetamines by @psychedelic-ink (Marcus comes home hurt)

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wheresarizona · 2 months

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Learning to Live Part 32

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hadn't wanted one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Big tantrum?” Benito asked.

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

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

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

The other two men were smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What did he mean by that?

“What about you, Javi?” Ken asked.

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

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

He met the other man’s eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know—are you okay, baby?”

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

Oh, she was drunk and missed him.

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

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

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

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

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

He could tell she held the phone toward them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was already on the road heading toward town.

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

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

“Probably.” He shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Meh, you’re cuter.”

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

“Fine.”

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

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

His mouth turned down in a frown.

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

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

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

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

“Calling Javi,” Cielito answered.

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

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

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

“I need him,” she whined.

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

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

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

“Yes?” she answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, baby, I’m still here.”

“Where are you?”

“Maybe ten minutes away.”

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

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

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

What she said had Javier grinning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To your left.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked so cute and it had him smiling.

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

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

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

“Oh my god, yesss!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He took her to the bathroom, where he sat her up on the countertop and stood between her legs to keep her in place.

“Cielito,” he said, grabbing a wet wipe, “I’m gonna clean off your makeup, okay?”

There was a big smile on her face, her eyelids shut. “Mmmkay, you’re sooo nice.”

He pressed it to her face to begin removing her makeup. When that was done, he used a warm washcloth to dampen the skin he’d cleaned and grabbed her face wash off the counter, which was amongst her other skincare products. He used his fingertips to apply it to her skin, starting with her cheeks, then down her jaw to her chin, and back up to spread it along her nose before doing her forehead last.

He used the wet cloth to wipe away the cleanser when she spoke.

“Did you just wash my face?” she asked.

“Yeah?” He’d finished, and her skin was finally completely clean and looking dewy. Her face wash was put away, and his eyes squinted as he read the labels of the other products until he found what he needed and picked it up. He’d seen her do her skincare routine more times than he could count and had the basics down; the serums and special creams intimidated him, though.

His fingers were massaging the moisturizer into her skin along the same path they’d taken with the cleanser.

“Is that moisturizer?”

“Yes.”

Her breath stuttered, her mouth turning into a frown, and he matched her look.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, leaning toward the sink when he was done to wash his hands. He then dried them with the towel on his other side hanging on the wall.

Her bottom lip was trembling, and it worried him.

“You love me,” she whispered.

“I do,” he said and kissed her forehead. “I love you so fucking much.” His hands rubbed over her bare thighs.

She opened her eyes, and they were welling up, glistening under the lights above.

“You love me,” she repeated.

He held her cheeks. “Yes, sweetheart, I love you—I love you more than anything.”

Her voice was so small. “Why doesn’t my family love me?” With tears rolling down her face, her question shattered his heart into a million pieces.

“Oh, Cielito, baby.” His tone was soft, and he wrapped her up in his arms, hugging her tight, her face going into the crook of his neck. “They’re assholes and they don’t deserve you.”

Her body started shaking with sobs, and it had his chest squeezing tight, his eyes getting watery, wishing with every cell of his being to make her feel better.

She was the strongest and bravest woman he knew, who didn’t like to show any sign of weakness, and ever since her parents’ unexpected and unwanted visit earlier in the week, she had acted like she was fine in an attempt to hide her sadness.

The day after he was offered a large sum of money to leave her, they’d gone over to his father’s to use the fax machine in his office—the office was in its own little building across the driveway from his house—and she faxed Jerry, her parents’ lawyer, a typed letter that conveyed her disappointment in how they acted and also told them to never contact her again which she signed at the bottom. She changed her home and cell phone numbers and discussed with him possibly moving to the ranch earlier than they originally planned.

He’d tried to talk to her about everything, but she’d put on this smile he knew wasn’t genuine by the lack of its usual luster, and she was unable to keep the sorrow from showing in her eyes—it killed him how her usual happy glow had dimmed from her hurt. She’d reassure him she was okay, reminding him that her family made their choice and had to live with the consequences of it, but she also had to live with the consequences of their actions and deal with the emotions of never seeing or speaking to her loved ones again. He was expecting the façade to break at some point, and it took inebriation to cause her carefully crafted walls to finally crumble.

To add salt to their wounds, Javier was served at work the following day after the fax was sent, with a lawsuit for breach of contract from her mom and dad.

What were they trying to sue him for? Going against his word to not tell their daughter about their visit and proposition, thus breaching a verbal contract that was made. He’d laughed as he called Chucho’s attorney because they never fucking agreed with his terms and, instead, had countered with the damn prenup. They didn’t have a fucking case, and it was dropped by the next day.

Javier was so unbelievably pissed off at these people for what they’d done to the woman he loved that he knew there was no way in hell he’d ever be able to have a civil conversation with them again. It was possible it’d turn into a physical altercation, and he’d end up in jail, which he honestly thought would be worth it if he got the chance to punch her dad in his stupid fucking face.

“They’re my family,” she choked out, “they’re supposed to love me—why don’t they love me? Why am I so unlovable?”

“Mi amor, you’re not unlovable—I love you, Pop loves you, my tías (aunts), tíos (uncles), and primos (cousins) love you, Robyn loves you, mi mamá loves you—you’re loved. We love you, baby. Those people you’re related to are shitty and so blinded by their obsession with money and how they’re perceived that they wouldn’t know what unconditional love was if it bit them in the ass. They’re horrible fucking people, and you don’t need them, Cielito. You don’t.”

“But they’re my family!” she cried. Her tears were soaking through his shirt. “It doesn’t feel right that they aren’t going to be at our wedding, and it hurts so fucking much that they don’t support us!”

He kissed her hair, rubbing circles on her back with his palm. “I know, cariño (sweetheart). I know you’re hurt and that it’s fucked they won’t be there.” It was hard for him to swallow around the lump that’d formed, his eyes burning, and he squeezed them shut. “I’m sorry you fell in love with me and that I’m not good enough for them or good enough for you. I’m sorry for causing all this shit and the pain you’re feeling. I’m sorry, baby—it’s all my fault,” his voice cracked on the last word. He had to clear his throat. “But I’d do it all again because you deserve to be loved—you deserve all the fucking love in the world. Your family is supposed to love you because they’re your family, and our kids will love you no matter what because you’re their amazing mom, but me? I’m choosing to love you with every fucking thing I have because you’re incredible and so lovable.” His cheeks were wet from his own tears. “I love you, Cielito—I promise I’ll love you enough to make up for them. I promise I’ll love you so much you’ll get sick of me. I love you, Cielito. You’re my everything, and I hope my love’s enough…”

She sniffled loudly, her head rising, and he opened his eyes to meet her reddened ones, her face streaked with wetness.

Her voice was hoarse. “It’s not your fault,” she said, her hands in the small space between their bodies, clutching his button-up shirt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, and you’re enough—you’ve always been enough. It just hurts how hateful the people who are supposed to want me to be happy are toward what makes me happy.” More tears fell down her cheeks. “You’re what makes me happy, and they don’t accept you.” Her lower lip was wobbling. “I’m mad and sad, and I don’t want them to be a part of our lives, but it feels… it feels like they’ve died,” she said quietly. “It feels weird grieving over people who are still breathing, who are just a phone call or a plane ride away. I’m grieving them like they’re dead—are they dead to me? Why am I grieving what little relationship we had, yet also grieving the relationship we could’ve had? One where they welcomed you with open arms, and even if it wasn’t your favorite thing to do, we visited them once a year—you’d joke around with my brother, we’d fawn over his many children, and my parents would actually be impressed with what you did in Colombia and brag to their friends about their son-in-law who helped take down Pablo fucking Escobar and did take out the Cali cartel. Why am I so fucking sad about living people and a fantasy?”

He stroked his fingers along her cheek to cup it. “I don’t remember much from my mother’s funeral ‘cause my head was pretty fucked up, but there was something the Priest said that stuck with me. ‘Grief is just all the love you had for someone that suddenly has nowhere to go.’ So, it collects inside you, makes your chest ache, and leaks from your eyes—it fills all the places that were left empty by their loss. I’ll always feel my mom here—” He put a hand over his heart. “—but over time, a lot of my grief slowly disappeared, and you’ve made it easier to live with what’s left.” He took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is I don’t think what you’re feeling is weird. They might be alive, but you lost the only family you’ve ever known and are grieving the death of your relationship with them—now there’s all that love you still have for them that has no place to go, so it’s filling the emptiness they left behind, and it’s gonna take some time to heal.” He held her face in both of his hands. “It’s okay that you're sad, Cielito, but you don’t need to hide it from me or pretend that you’re okay because I know you’re not, and I don’t want you going through this alone. I’ll be your shoulder to cry on; I’ll hold you or talk things out with you. I’ll do whatever you need me to do to help ease your pain. Just please don’t shut me out.”

She was frowning, her eyes darting away as she spoke softly, “I knew if you saw I was upset, it’d make you sad, and I didn’t wanna make you sad so close to our wedding—this should be a happy time for us, but all I wanna do is lay in the dark and cry.”

“Baby?” His finger went under her chin to make her look at him, their gazes meeting. “Don’t worry about my feelings, and let me be there for you—I’d rather be sad with you than have you suffer alone in silence. Now, let me get you to bed so I can hold you while you cry.”

Her smile was small, and her eyes were glossy with tears. “I’d like that.” Suddenly, she looked panicked, her hand going to her mouth. “Move,” said her muffled voice. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“Shit.” He immediately helped her off the counter, for her to stumble the handful of steps and drop to her knees in front of the toilet, where she did, in fact, get sick.

It took a lot to gross out Javier—he grew up on a ranch, where he witnessed animal births and deaths regularly. Combine that with the horrible things he’d seen in Colombia, someone throwing up was a welcome change.

“Oh, mi probecita (my poor thing),” he said, spinning around to the wall opposite the bathroom vanity to get a small rag from the linen closet before moving back to the sink to wet it with cold water. “Déjame cuidarte, Cielito (Let me take care of you, Cielito). Sé que no te gusta enfermarte (I know you don’t like getting sick).”

She’d told him that when she had a little too much fun at a party playing drinking games with his primos (cousins) and found herself on his old bathroom floor, hugging porcelain with Javier there for support—they’d ended up being too drunk to drive home and spent the night in his childhood bed.

He wrung out the washcloth and walked over to her, a grunt leaving him and knees popping as he lowered himself to kneel next to her. He pressed the cloth to the back of her neck with one hand while the other rubbed comforting circles over her spine.

His tone was warm and gentle. “Get it all out, baby. I know it’s awful, and you hate it, but it’ll make you feel better.”

It didn’t take long for her stomach to empty and her heaving to stop. Her breaths were coming out ragged, and Javier took care of flushing the toilet. He scooted back and pulled her with him, the tiled floor cool underneath them, until he had room to stretch out his legs in front of him while she sat between them with her spine to his chest, her eyes closed.

He held the wet cloth to her forehead, the fingers of his free hand laced with hers, and kissed her hair.

“How are you feeling?” he whispered.

“I’m never drinking again,” she mumbled.

He huffed amusedly and smiled, placing a kiss behind her ear.

“Liar,” he said. “You said that last time you drank too much.”

“I mean it this time.”

“Uh-huh, right.”

“I do—this is embarrassing.”

“I think it’s good practice.”

He knew the look on her face was one of confusion without seeing it. “Practice for what?”

“If you get morning sickness.” He kissed the side of her neck.

“Oh, god,” she whined. “Why can’t we be seahorses?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Seahorses?”

“Yeah, male seahorses do the whole pregnancy and birth thing—that’s the fucking dream.”

He thought about it for a second, taking into account how badly he wanted kids, and it was really fucking weird to say this out loud, “If I could… I’d, uh, do that for us…”

He could hear her smiling. “You’d have my babies?”

Javier inhaled deeply and slowly let it out. “...yes.”

“I know the scenario is weirding you out, and it’s sweet of you to say you would, but I’m not sure if, given the opportunity, you’d actually do it—which is fine. Pregnancy and childbirth are scary, and it just proves that mothers are more badass than fathers.”

“You’re definitely more badass than me.”

“I appreciate you saying that, man who literally hunted bad guys for a living and had a bounty on his head.”

“You are, and since you’re taking the brunt of everything for us to have a kid, I promise I’ll do whatever possible, so all you’ll have to worry about is growing our baby and working.” She’d made it clear that when she got pregnant, she was still going to work until either the baby was born or the Doctor told her to stop.

“You know, I think we’re gonna crush being married and becoming parents.”

He smiled. “We are because we’re equals, even if you’re more badass than me.”

“We are equals, and thank you for acknowledging my badassery, man who helped eliminate two of the biggest cartels in the world.”

He snorted. “Smartass. How are you feeling?”

“A little drunk, sad, and I’ve got the spins.”

“Do you still feel sick?”

“Not really—just dizzy.”

“Do you want me to help you brush your teeth and then get you comfortable in bed?”

“That actually sounds wonderful because my mouth feels icky, and I’d like to cuddle.”

“Okay, mi amor.”

He started to move, but she stopped him with her hand on his arm as she said, “Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“You’re worth it.”

“Worth what…?”

“The pain and sadness over my family. You bring me so much love and happiness that I know it’ll outshine the hurt in no time, and this low I’m in is only temporary. You’re worth it and more than enough—your love is all I need. I love you.”

His throat was feeling tight, and he spoke softly. “I love you, too.” His arms went around her middle, and he didn’t squeeze as he hugged her to not hurt her stomach. He still wanted to hold her, his chin resting on her shoulder and their heads touching. “I’m happy I’m worth it to you, and just know that I’m yours; I’m here for you—good, bad, it doesn’t fucking matter because I’m not going anywhere, and we’ll get through anything together.” His lips pressed to her hair. “I tell you I love you a lot, but I hope you understand that I love you more than words can accurately describe—I love you, Cielito. I love you, and I promise I’ll be yours forever.”

Her hand came up behind her to press her fingers into his hair. “Yeah, we’re gonna crush being husband and wife.”

She made him smile. “Less than seventy-two hours, Mrs. Peña.”

“And I can’t fucking wait, Mr. Peña.”

The town of Laredo was buzzing with the news Javier Peña was getting married—yes, the same Javier Peña who left his first bride at the altar, had tumbled in the hay with many of the girls he’d gone to school with, and was apparently some kind of lothario in South America.

It really bothered you how fucking interested and judgmental the townspeople were of his sex life.

Your wedding with him was all anyone could talk about, and the bar was even taking bets on whether or not he’d disappear again, which was fucked up, but Chucho gladly put five hundred dollars on his son marrying you because he knew it was easy money. There was so much interest in how things would turn out that people you either barely knew or had never met approached you both like they were old friends of Javi’s to try and get invites—they were politely rejected with the excuse there wasn’t enough room.

According to Robyn, your wedding had the same amount of hype as your fiancé’s first, and though Javi hated that, you really hoped it annoyed the fuck out of his ex.

When you discussed how you wanted to tie the knot, your husband-to-be agreed the ceremony should be attended by a select few, and afterward, there’d be a big party to celebrate with the rest of your friends and family. Once the date was decided, the planning started immediately since there was so little time.

Chucho and his sisters would make a killing as wedding planners. They sat you and Javi down to get an idea of what you wanted the party to be like, a color scheme, and a budget, then told you guys not to worry and that they’d take care of everything. All the two of you had to do was approve things, hand over cash, and get your rings, which wasn’t too much of a hassle since you wanted simple matching gold bands.

Something you loved about the family you were marrying into was how they were all there for each other and so tight-knit—your fiancé's dad and tías managed to get all that was needed in less than a month with the help of his primos, and by calling in favors from their friends.

Javier and you didn't want anything extravagant. The party would occur in Chucho's backyard, under a giant white pole tent. Tables, chairs, and a dance floor had to be rented, and it was highway robbery how much the local place wanted to charge—Lorraine’s family frequently used them for their events, and you wouldn’t put it past her father to be the cause of such an exorbitant price just to spite Javi for wasting the absurd amount of money he spent on Lorraine’s first wedding. Luckily, on such short notice, tía Lupita’s oldest son, Matías, had a friend who knew a guy an hour away in Zapata who ran a party rental store and could get them everything at a reasonable price.

The tías, along with their daughters/daughters in law were handling food; Anna, who was friends with Javi in high school, had a bakery and was taking care of making the cake and Mexican wedding cookies that were tiny, buttery, ball-shaped, melt-in-your-mouth, powdered sugar-covered cookies, dotted with crushed nuts like pecans, walnuts, and almonds, and traditionally served at weddings and Christmas; tío Ángel and tía María’s husband were in charge of getting alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages, and Ángel’s youngest son Diego was going to DJ, as it was his side hustle and he’d been paid to do gigs at other parties in town and in a couple of big city clubs.

An hour and a half before you were to be wed, practically every family member of Javi's who lived locally was at the ranch. Many had been there all day setting up the backyard or in the kitchen making food, and every time you tried to help cook, you were shooed away, but your presence was wanted outside to instruct those putting things together on how to arrange and decorate everything inside and out of the tent, and that ended up being what you did until it was time to start getting ready.

Most of Javier’s family and you were there, yet your groom was nowhere to be found and hadn’t set foot on the property in a good sixteen hours.

In that time, you hadn’t seen or talked to him either, and your last interaction was the previous night when he dropped you off at his dad’s—that’s where you spent the night, and thank goodness, Chucho had already gone to sleep when Javi helped you get settled in his old room, because he had a hard time leaving and it led to him fucking you slow and passionately in his ridiculously squeaky bed one last time.

Why were you staying at the ranch? The two of you, encouraged by Javi’s dad, made the decision not to see each other on the day of your nuptials. Since your almost father-in-law would be driving you to where the ceremony was taking place, it made sense for you to sleepover and get ready at his house—the moment Javi left you there in his room that smelled like him, under his sheets that smelled like him, in one of his white t-shirts that smelled like him, you realized it was going to be really difficult and a test of your strength to be away from him for so long, and you both knew, if you spoke even a single word over the phone, the resolve between you would shatter, and he’d be back at Chucho’s for you in record time.

That led to the lack of communication and him getting ready alone at your shared apartment.

You were sitting in a kitchen chair you’d brought into Javi’s old bathroom, wearing a white satin robe cinched tight over your clean body, fresh from the shower and the special undergarments you'd chosen for the big day. Robyn was in front of you in her matching black robe as she did your makeup, something she offered to do and you happily accepted due to how good she was at it. She'd already smoothed out your complexion and hid any imperfections; currently, she was working on your eye shadow.

"Between you and Javi," she said, her attention focused on what she was doing, "your kids are gonna have some pretty eyes."

You smiled. "I think his eyes are prettier, and just imagine tiny versions of them; they'll give me the sad puppy dog eyes, and I'll have no choice but to give them whatever they want."

She giggled. "Your babies will be spoiled."

"I have already accepted that fact—hopefully, they'll take after their dad and be spoiled, but sweet, caring, and well-behaved, and not some little assholes." You frowned. "My brother was a spoiled asshole."

She paused what she was doing to meet your eyes. "Hey, now, we agreed not to think or speak about those people today. We aren't lettin' them sour the best day of your life so far."

"I know," you sighed.

It was the right choice to sever your ties with your family, and you had no regrets; that didn't mean it wasn't hard or hurt any less. Especially today, with it being your wedding day—your mom wasn’t there to help you get ready, nor your dad for a father-daughter dance. They should’ve been there supporting you on the happiest day of your life. Instead, they destroyed whatever relationship you had with them, and it hurt a lot. Even suspecting for years that they had no love for you didn't ease much of the pain of discovering it was true. You felt stupid for caring about these people when they cared so little for you, and you weren't sure why you hadn't cut them out sooner. Was it naively thinking they'd change? Or the ingrained notion that even if you didn't like them, you had to suck it up because they were your family?

It didn't matter now because what they'd done and how they treated the man you loved was unforgivable. There was no chance in hell you’d ever trust them again, and you didn’t want the new life you were starting with Javi to be tainted by their toxicity.

Robyn's cell phone was sitting on the bathroom counter next to your open makeup bag, and it started ringing—nobody wanted to bother you while you got ready, so Robyn was made the point of contact to either deal with what was going on or talk it out with you.

She straightened and turned around to pick it up.

"Why's he callin’?" she mumbled, hitting the accept button and putting the phone to her ear. "What's shakin' bacon? Robyn speakin,’" she answered. "...yes," she told them, "I'm doin' her makeup right now... No... No, you can't... Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? No one is supposed to see her before the wedding... You're a fuckin' liar, and Chucho wouldn’t let you in here anyway... You're ridiculous," she said in exasperation. "But if you swear, on your mama's grave, you won't peek, then I'll allow it... Okay, fine. Give us a sec, then quietly knock—I don't want anyone knowin' you’re here... bye."

She set the phone down and the eyeshadow palette, spinning on her heel to face you and grab your hand.

"Was that who I think it was?" you asked.

She was smiling. "If you’re thinkin’ someone annoyin’ who could get me in more trouble than an armadillo on the highway with your father-in-law, yes—come with me."

Robyn tugged you up to stand and led you into the bedroom, where you both came to a stop.

There were two large windows on the opposite wall beside each side of the bed, sitting half a foot above the floor with closed blinds and red curtains over them. A soft knocking sounded on the one in front of you. You followed Robyn and watched her push apart the curtains, pulling on the string to raise the blinds. Her body blocked your view as she unlocked the window and shoved it up.

"How many fingers am I holdin' up?" she asked the person outside.

"I don't know," Javi answered. "I can't see shit with this thing on."

The sound of his voice had your heart beating faster.

"Good," Robyn said, moving out of your way to look at you.

With the window's position, you could only see your fiancé from the thighs up, wearing black tuxedo pants and a white long-sleeved dress shirt tucked into them. Your sleep mask covered his eyes, and there was a loose regular tie and bow tie around his neck that matched the color of his slacks, the ends of each resting over both sides of his chest. Aside from his perfectly trimmed mustache, his face was freshly shaved, and he looked unbelievably handsome as always.

"This annoyin' man—" Robyn pointed at him with her thumb. "—says it's an emergency—he needs you to tell him how you want his hair done and which tie you’d like."

It made you smile because his hair was already how you wanted it—you had given him a haircut a couple of days ago, so the sides looked nice and clean cut down, and he combed the longer top and bangs to swoop over to the other side of his head, holding it all in place with his favorite pomade, that kept his hair soft.

He also knew damn well which tie you’d chosen.

It had you feeling gooey that he couldn't wait any longer to see you.

You walked toward him, and Robyn made herself scarce by disappearing into the bathroom. At the window, you got down on your knees to make it easier to talk to him, Javier still standing above you with his height.

"An emergency, huh?" you asked, and he smiled. Taking his outstretched hand, you guided him closer.

“Are we alone?" he countered

His palms began mapping your body, sliding over your arms and shoulders and along your neck up to your head, where he avoided your face but carefully felt your ears and hair.

"Yep."

“You feel beautiful.”

Air huffed from your nose in amusement. “Well, you look handsome, even without being fully dressed.” You rubbed your hands up his thighs to rest them on his tiny hips. “Your hair looks perfect,” you continued. “Did you really forget which tie I wanted?”

He smirked. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “It was the only way I knew I could get Robyn to betray Pop’s orders and let me see you; well, talk to you.”

Your eyebrows creased. “Orders? What orders?”

“He might’ve made it sound like a suggestion, the whole us not seeing each other today, but Pop is super fucking superstitious like mi mamá was—he doesn’t think he is—believe me, he is, and it made him feel better we agreed to do it. So, he has everyone out here on strict orders to keep us apart, including Robyn. One of my tíos is sitting at the end of the kitchen table right now so he can watch the front and back door; another is on the living room couch to stay close to my room in case he’s gotta intercept me. You’re being guarded like a fucking high-security witness with a hit out on them. I had to park my truck down the road and have Seb hide me in the trunk of his Bronco to get here without anyone seeing.”

“That is insane.”

He sighed. “At least Pop kinda gave us a choice; my mom wouldn’t have. She wouldn’t have let us take any risk of getting bad luck because I saw you.”

“It’s sweet and extremely intense.”

“Yeah, and I can’t see you, so we’re good.”

You smiled. “Gotta love loopholes.”

He was smiling, too. “Yeah. I missed you so much. I just needed to touch you and talk to you.” He grabbed your hands off his waist, stroking his thumbs over the back of them. “I couldn’t sleep last night without you—even when I tried sleeping on your side.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep either, and I missed you, too. I’m happy you’re here so we can talk. I’ve got butterflies in my tummy, and I can’t tell if they’re nerves or excitement.”

“Maybe both?”

“Could be. Don’t know what I have to be nervous about.”

“I’m nervous about having to say my sappy bullshit in front of other people and have it recorded.”

“That’s actually a good point—if we leave now, we can make it to the courthouse before it closes and skip all of that.”

He huffed out a breath. “It’s too late for that, mi amor. Pop’s excited about being a part of the ceremony and getting to walk you to me.”

There wouldn’t be an aisle per se, just a small trail of rose petals leading you to where Javi would be standing in front of the tree. Chucho cried happy tears when you asked him to give you away.

When your soon-to-be father-in-law heard about your parents' impromptu visit, you’d never seen him so angry—his face had gone red, and he went off in Spanish about what terrible people they were. He was so mad he repeatedly tried to get you to give him their phone number so he could tell them himself how lowly he thought of them and that they were awful parents; he wanted them to know that their loss was his gain and you were his daughter now; you would finally be loved and cherished by a proud parent and that it was God’s will you came into his and his son’s lives. He also needed them to be aware that their pride and greed had turned them villainous, and he’d be praying that they someday realized the error of their ways and saw you for the blessing you were.

His anger toward those who wronged you was fueled by a protective father’s love for their child, and it made you incredibly emotional that after so many years without one, you had a parent who loved you unconditionally, wanted nothing more than your happiness, and would selflessly fight battles for you.

Chucho was the best dad you’d ever had, and you were happy that in less than two hours, you’d share a last name with him, too.

“Ugh, you’re right,” you said, “Pop deserves his moment. Hey, babe?”

“Yes, mi amor?”

“When you’re saying your sappy bullshit, focus on me. It'll just be the two of us in that moment, no one else, and believe me when I say all of my tears will be happy.”

His smile was brighter than the sun. He lifted your hand to kiss each of your knuckles, saying when he finished. “All of my tears will be happy, too, and you do the same thing—it’s just us, nobody else. Will you, uh, tie my bow tie?”

His question had you smiling. “I’d love to.”

He pulled off the regular tie and stuffed it into his pocket, bending his knees and crouching with a grunt to put his neck within reach. You took the ends of the bow tie, your attention focused on what you were doing.

"This is why you had me learn how to tie a bow tie, huh?" You started going through the steps—ensuring one end was longer than the other, then crossing it over the shorter end, bringing it up from under the loop and through it.

"Yes."

The bow tie had taken shape, and you were almost done.

"What was your plan if Robyn didn't let you see me?"

"I would've called you and gotten you to sneak away."

You finished tying it, and it wasn't perfect, but it didn't look too bad.

"And I would've with zero hesitation," you said, patting the bow tie. "You look so good." You leaned out to peck him on the cheek.

"Not as good as you."

You huffed out air. "Obviously, you can't see me because only half of my makeup is done—there's literally eyeshadow on only one side. I look like a mess."

Your hands were on his shoulders, and he rubbed his hands back and forth on your arms.

"A beautiful mess."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm in love."

"I'm in love, too—madly, as a matter of fact. Oh, your dad took me out for breakfast this morning in the Mustang. He filled up the tank on our way home, and when we got back before everyone came over, he polished it, so I think it’s safe to assume you’re gonna get to drive it at some point in the next twenty-four hours—you can’t see, but I’m wagging my eyebrows.” You were.

His lips pouted, and his hands remained still. “Who drove to and from the diner?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I just wanna know.”

“But why does it matter?”

“You’re deflecting.”

“No, I’m just curious why you need to know who drove.”

His shoulders slumped. “I think I have my answer—how many times has he let you drive it now? Was that four or five?”

“Six. He let me drive with him in the passenger seat and Robyn in the back when we went wedding dress shopping.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you get weird like you are now that he lets me drive it—I can’t help that he thinks my cooking is Mustang-driving-worthy.”

“But you didn’t make him anything when you went wedding dress shopping…”

“No, but he was so touched I wanted him there to help me pick out a dress, he thought the special occasion warranted me getting to drive.”

“He didn’t let me drive the Mustang when we went to find a tux…” he grumbled.

“I’m sorry to break it to you, babe, but my wedding dress I bought and am going to save in case our future daughter wants to wear it one day is a little more special than your rented tux that has been worn many times before you by strangers. Now, stop being jealous, and get excited that you’re finally going to drive it, and unlike me, you’ll be allowed to drive it wherever the fuck you want, so there, you have one up on me.”

He seemed to be thinking long and hard about that last bit.

“That is better…”

“It sure is. Lean in and kiss me. It’ll make you less grumpy.”

“As much as I’m dying to kiss you right now, I, um, wanna wait, so it’s kinda special…”

“I respect that and understand what you mean. Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“I’m really fucking happy we’re getting married today, and I hope you like my dress.”

He smiled brightly. “I’m really fucking happy we’re getting married, too. I’m gonna love your dress.”

“I hope so.”

“Baby, you could show up in a paper bag, and I’d be blown away.”

“The bar is so low. Do you wanna feel what I’ll be wearing under the dress?”

The pink of his tongue quickly peeked between his lips, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

His timbre deepened. “Yes.”

You poked your head out the window to ensure no one was around, then loosened the belt, holding your robe shut. Taking his hand, you started at your shoulder beneath the silk, letting his fingertips graze over the bare skin, trailing them down to the lacy cup of your strapless bra. He couldn’t help himself and palmed your covered breast before you moved his hand once more to continue the journey downward, where he got to feel the smooth, stretchy material hugging your middle; you let his fingers find that the spandex covering the warmth between your thighs, too.

“Not very sexy,” you said. “Well, the bra is cute. The rest is so I don’t look lumpy in the dress or have panty lines.”

He was about to say something, but you spoke before he had a chance. “Yes, Javier, I know you love my natural body, including the bits I don’t, but I wanna look my very best, and that means Spanx.”

He was frowning. “Are they uncomfortable?”

It warmed your heart that he was concerned for your comfort.

"Not really," you answered truthfully. "They're like my bicycle shorts, so stretchy and breathable. Will it make you feel better to know I have sexier bottoms I'm gonna wear when I change into my comfier dress after food and our first dance?"

He didn't know what your wedding dress looked like, but he had seen the one you were changing into after it.

His free hand went to the window frame, feeling along it until he found where the opened window stopped and ducked his head under it. His face was close to yours, one of his palms still between your legs, the other carefully sliding up the edge of your open robe.

"I'd prefer you wear no panties," he rasped, pulling the silk off your shoulder. His mouth pressed to the newly revealed skin, the soft kiss of his lips and tickle of his mustache, paired with his hand on your pussy beginning to rub, had sparks dancing down your spine. "It's gonna make me hard," his words were muffled between kisses as he moved across your shoulder toward your neck, "seeing you in your wedding dress.” Your fingers went into the hair at the back of his head, his spare hand palming your breast. “I'm gonna lose my fucking mind hearing you say 'I do.'" He was kissing and nibbling at your throat now, the added friction of his palm at the crux of your thighs making it hard to think. "It's gonna drive me fucking crazy that you're my wife—my wife,” he repeated against your throat. “And I’ll be your husband—I already want you, but all I’ll be able to think about after we’re pronounced husband and wife is getting you alone, and if you’re not wearing panties, it’ll make it easier for me to lift up that pretty—“

“No, Javier!” Robyn interrupted, and you felt cold water mist against your bare skin, the spray bottle hissing near your ear. “Bad!”

“Fuck!” he yelped, his head narrowly missing the bottom of the raised window as he pushed back from you so fast you’d think he was burned. His expression had turned grumpy as he stood. “What the fuck was that for?”

“I promised your daddy I wouldn’t let you see her,” she said, looking mad. “But out of the kindness of my heart—” She pressed a hand to the left side of her chest. “—I went against my word to your father, and how do you repay me? By wastin’ time gettin’ fresh with your fiancée when I’m riskin’ your daddy bein’ madder than a box of frogs at me for not doin’ what I said I’d do—you’re bein’ real rude Javier Peña, exploitin’ my niceness and I’d appreciate you sayin’ your goodbyes, and bein’ on your way.”

His eyes were covered, but it was visible how his face shifted from grumpy to guilty.

“I’m sorry, Robyn,” he said.

“Apology accepted. Say goodbye, and then we gotta get back to work.”

“Okay,” he replied.

The other woman headed back to the en suite. Leaning forward, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to step toward you.

“Thank you for coming to see me or, you know, talk to me,” you told him.

He smiled, squeezing your palm. “There was zero chance of me waiting to talk to you until the wedding. I love you too much.”

“I’m happy you did, and I love you, too.”

He lifted your hand and kissed the back of it.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I know you will, and I’ll be there.”

Javi sighed. “I better go. Bye, Cielito,” he said and didn’t move.

“You’re gonna see me in a little bit—get going, babe.”

He sighed again. “Fine. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

This time, he quickly pecked the back of your hand and started quietly walking along the front of the house. You assumed he had taken off the sleep mask to sneak away.

You closed and locked the window, shutting the blinds and curtains, feeling happy that you'd be seeing him again soon.

It took some time to finish getting ready, as you wanted to look perfect. Robyn did a fantastic job on your makeup, and your hair turned out well. When you saw yourself all dolled up and wearing your dress, you almost couldn't believe it was your reflection staring back at you in the mirror.

The white, silky satin hugged your curves as it cascaded to the ground to pool around your feet, the fabric having some stretch to it so your movements weren’t hindered. The neckline dipped in a slight V, your upper back bare from under your armpits up, and thin straps went over your shoulders connecting the two sides.

With how the satin draped over your figure, perfectly fitting the contours of your body, then flared out below your knees, it had a Morticia Addams feel to it—change the color of it to black, add sleeves, and you’d find it in her closet.

Javi was right. You looked so amazing that he was absolutely going to get a boner when he saw you.

And wasn't that just the sweetest thing?

A man so in love with you he gets aroused even when you're fully clothed because he thinks you're that pretty. He was also the kind of guy who sometimes got too excited from a kiss, and you had to wait a little while in the car for him to calm down…

"What do you think?" Robyn asked beside you. She'd put on her dress—a lavender-colored, A-line, floor-length gown with ruffled short sleeves and a V-neckline that, as an added bonus, had pockets.

You met her eyes in the mirror. "That I've never looked more beautiful—if you ever wanted to get out of nursing, you'd be a fantastic makeup artist."

She smiled, her full lips painted in rose-pink lipstick. "Thank you, but I prefer doin' it as a hobby and bein' able to help my friends out."

"Well, thank you for making me look insanely pretty."

"All I did was enhance what was already there, girl—Javi's gonna lose it."

"I hope he does."

A knock sounded from the bedroom door, and without a word, your friend went to see who it was.

"Is it okay for Chucho to see you?" Robyn called from the other room.

"Yes!" you answered, and nerves started fluttering in your belly over what he'd think.

Within seconds, your father-in-law was standing in the doorway, where you faced him with a grin.

"Dios mío (My God)," he gasped, his hand going to his mouth, “eres tan hermosa (you’re so beautiful)!” His dark eyes behind his glasses started to shine.

He was wearing light grey slacks, a white long-sleeved dress shirt, and a tie in the same shade as Robyn’s dress resting against his chest from a perfect Windsor knot at his throat, his camera dangling from a strap around his neck; as usual, his long hair was pulled back in a low ponytail.

“Ese vestido es perfecto (That dress is perfect)!” he said. “Estoy tan feliz de que lo hayas elegido porque te ves increíble (I’m so happy you chose it because you look amazing). Javi se va a volver loco (Javi is going to go crazy)."

"You really think so?" you asked, looking down at your outfit.

"Oh, yes." He nodded. "He's not going to leave you alone. We'll have to get a crowbar to pry him away from you."

You giggled, looking at him. "Yeah, I have a feeling he's gonna be stuck to me all night."

"When isn't he?"

The question made you laugh. "Touché."

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to," the older man started, "but I went through mi amor's jewelry to see if there was anything I thought you might want to wear—it could be your something old—” You hadn’t figured out what to do for something old; your something new was the perfume Javi got you for Christmas that you saved for today so he’d have a scent memory. Something borrowed was Chucho’s land, where your ceremony and party would take place, and something blue was a garter from Robyn around your thigh under your dress. “—and I found this necklace,” he said.

That's when you realized he was holding a large, thin, black leather box in his other hand.

Chucho walked closer to you, holding it in a palm, while the other lifted the hinged top—the necklace was made up of many silver waves connected together, purple sapphires resting in each dip, that you counted seventeen in total. It was stunning, the metal and precious gemstones glimmering beneath the lighting.

"I gave this to mi Antonia on our twentieth anniversary," he told you. "We'd visit her family in Mexico two, three times a year, and always for Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead). On one visit, she saw this necklace and fell in love with it—it's Taxco silver and known for its high quality; many pieces made with it are crafted by hand and marked, so you know it's real. She wouldn't let me buy it for her because she thought it was too expensive for something she’d hardly wear, but the way she looked at it, I had to get it for her anyway, so I did and surprised her with it on our anniversary; she yelled at me," he chuckled, smiling. "Then had me put it on her and covered my face in kisses." He sighed fondly. "I think if she were here today, this is what she would've chosen for you, too—if you don’t like it, we can go upstairs for you to pick something else out..."

"No, Pop," you said quickly, meeting his gaze. There was a lump in your throat at the thought he'd put into finding you this piece of jewelry. "It's perfect, and I'd love to wear it. Can you help me put it on, please?"

"Yes, Mija." He set the open box on the bathroom counter and picked up the necklace with the same care as you would a newborn. Turning so your back was to him, he had an end in each hand as his arm went over your head to get the silver and sapphires around the front of your neck, clasping it at the back. He stepped away, and you faced him again.

There was a smile on his face, and his eyes were soft. "Mi hija hermosa (My beautiful daughter).” The sentence had your breath hitching. “¿Ella es preciosa, no (She is gorgeous, right)?" he asked Robyn. She understood Spanish but had a hard time speaking it.

The other woman was beside him, grinning. "She sure is," she agreed. "A real stunner."

"I'm so happy this day has finally come." Tears were brimming on his eyelids, and he took off his glasses to wipe them away. "I just wish mi amor was here to see our son marry such a wonderful woman."

Your eyes were burning as you held back from crying. He'd put his eyeglasses back on, and you stepped forward to hug him, being careful of your makeup. His arms went around you, squeezing you back.

"I wish she was here, too," you said. "At least we've got you, the best dad in the whole world. I love you, Pop."

"I love you, too, Mija. Thank you for loving my son and making him the happiest I've ever seen. We're blessed to have you in our lives, and I can't tell you how much joy I feel that you've decided to take our last name; I think it suits you better."

"I think it suits me better, too."

“You’re gonna kill the grass if you keep walking back and forth like that,” the other man told him.

They were at the oak tree on the hill, and the sun was getting close to setting. Javier had his whole outfit on: a black tuxedo and bow tie, white shirt, and lavender pocket square—he’d borrowed a pair of his father’s golden cufflinks, and one of his mother’s violet roses was pinned to his lapel. He didn’t have a cigarette to calm his nerves, so he was pacing, but the comment had him stopping with a sigh.

"Are you wearing a hole in the ground 'cause you're being impatient?" Steve continued. "Or are you nervous?"

His gaze went to his best friend, who was standing in front of him holding a small, white, heart-shaped pillow adorned in lace that went around the edges—there were two golden rings, one bigger than the other, secured to the top of it by a satin ribbon tied into a bow. The older man was dressed in a charcoal-colored suit he regularly wore to work, with a new tie provided by Javier that matched his lavender pocket square. Nate was in a carrier on his back; the parents put the one-year-old in a onesie that made him look like he was wearing a tuxedo and some dark pants, the child happily chewing on a football-shaped teething toy.

His hands went to his hips as he frowned. “Both?” Javier answered. “I can’t wait to see her, and I’m nervous about saying shi-stuff—“ He quickly corrected himself with the children present. “—I usually save for when we’re alone.”

Steve was giving him a weird look. “My kids are here. This ‘stuff’ is appropriate for them to hear, right…? It’s not anything… lewd…?”

Javier’s eyes narrowed. “No, it’s not anything like that, you judgemental pri-prude.”

The blonde man’s free hand went up in a placating gesture. “Hey, you said you save it for when you’re alone, and y’all have stayed at our house—any time the two of you were alone, you… folded laundry.”

“Folded laundry…?”

“Javi,” Connie said to get his attention, and he looked over to where she was fussing with the purple bow in Olivia’s hair. “You know when there’s a big load of laundry that requires two adults to fold, and they have to lock the bedroom door so there aren’t any distractions.”

Oh, ‘folding laundry’ was their code word for sex—that was smart.

“Mom and Dad have been folding a lot of laundry together lately,” Olivia added with a quizzical expression. “I didn’t know it was so hard to do alone—the baskets don’t seem that big.”

Javier smiled, his head turning from one parent to the other, seeing they were avoiding his eyes and blushing—good for them, fucking regularly.

“It’s more satisfying to do laundry with someone, so it gets done quicker,” he said.

“Doesn’t seem to get done quicker,” she replied.

Steve cleared his throat before he spoke. “Anyways, enough about laundry—what are you planning to say that’s got you nervous, Jav?”

He stopped smiling and scratched his mustache. “Uh, like, lovey-dovey, romantic crap…”

His best friend’s smile grew into a shit-eating grin. “What, like, super cheesy stuff? Are you gonna read the poetry you wrote about her eyes in your diary or something?”

Javier ground his teeth.

"Leave him alone, Steve," Connie said. "In our wedding video, before I walked down the aisle, you were clearly figuring out where all of the nearest exits were in the church. It’s refreshing and sweet that Javi’s gonna be vulnerable in front of everyone for the woman he loves.”

"I was checking where the exits were in case of a fire!" Steve rebuked. "All those candles they lit made me nervous."

"If that's what you tell yourself." She didn’t sound convinced.

“I was! Why did we need to be here forty-five minutes early?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “I was really enjoying the food your aunties were feeding us back at the house.”

There wasn’t a chance for Javier to respond; the answer to the question was he wanted to show how eager he was to marry the woman he actually loved and avoid any chance of being late—it also was a ‘fuck you’ to the people betting against him at the bar.

"Tío, tío!" The three-year-old Stevie shouted, running up to him; he was holding a Ninja Turtle action figure he'd been playing with in the grass.

Javier smiled, his attention moving to the child, crouching to be at his level. "Yes, mi principito (my little prince)?"

"We match!" His tiny finger pointed at his little light purple bow tie over his white dress shirt. The kid refused to wear a regular tie like his dad, and the only way they got him to agree to the clip-on bow tie was by telling him Javier had one, too.

His friends weren't by any means struggling with money, but Javier and his wif-fiancée, sent them a check to pay for their trip to Texas, which included flights, lodging, a rental car, and clothes for the wedding since they wanted those at the ceremony to match—Olivia got a new dress and so did her mom in the shade of lavender everyone else was wearing.

The family had gotten into town the day before. Cielito and Javier had shown them around town and taken them out to the ranch where Chucho and Connie finally got to meet in person—there was a lot of hugging—and that evening, they all, including his father, went out to dinner. Today, he’d spent more time with his friends before they all needed to get ready, then they followed him out to the ranch to distract Chucho while Javier covertly went to see, or, well, talk to his bride-to-be—the sleep mask was Connie’s idea, and she thought them sneakily meeting without anyone knowing was incredibly romantic.

"We do, bud,” he said. “You look so cool." He gently patted the child's arm.

Stevie was grinning. "I'm gonna walk from Mommy to Daddy and give him the rings?"

The hill they were on wasn’t too steep; Olivia was fine with walking up it from the bottom—she was excited to do it. For her younger brother, it was too much for him, so Connie was going to stand with Stevie a little before the land evened out at the top to signal when it was time for him to walk to his father.

"Yes," he nodded. "You'll walk while holding the pillow with the rings and hand it to your dad."

"It's a special job?"

"It's very special."

"Sissy's gonna throw flowers?"

"Yes, flower petals."

"It's a special job, too?"

"It is. They’re both important. Thank you for helping me, mi principito (my little prince).” He ruffled the child’s dirty blonde hair, making Stevie laugh.

Javier’s primos, Sebastián, and his tía Rebeca's daughter, Angelita, were taking care of the videography and photography, respectively. Seb had the video camera Javier bought, and Angelita had her own gear since she was a professional photographer—when you had fourteen cousins on just your father’s side, the odds were in your favor, one of them could either help with what you needed or knew somebody who could.

Photos were taken of Javier with the Murphys when they all first got there, and then his primos told everyone to pretend they weren’t there while they got candids and views of the scenery—his cousins arrived together in Sebastián’s SUV.

“Hey, Javi?” Seb said as he walked toward him.

"I gotta talk to him, buddy," Javier told Stevie. "I'll be back." He rose up with a groan, taking a few steps to reach his primo. "Yeah?" he answered.

When camcorders first came out, they were big and had to be rested on the operator’s shoulder, but the one Seb was using, he held in one of his hands with the side pulled open to see the little screen that previewed what was being recorded. The younger man hit a button on the video camera to pause what he’d been doing. “Do you want me to interview people?” Seb asked. “Ask how they like the wedding, if they have any advice, that kinda stuff.”

"Uh." He thought about it and Cielito would probably enjoy that. "Sure.”

"Perfecto (Perfect)." Seb nodded, hitting the button to record again.

Javier immediately regretted his decision when the camera was put in his face.

“It’s your big day, primo,” Seb said. “How are you feeling?”

“Um, excited and nervous.”

“The audience would like to hear how you met your bride.”

Javier smiled, heat rising on his cheeks. “At the grocery store, in the produce department—I guess it was obvious I was struggling to pick out a tomato, and she came to my rescue and showed me what to look for.”

“What was your first impression of her?”

He scratched at the back of his neck while looking away. “Uh, that she was sweet for helping me out, and beautiful. I could tell she had a good, kind heart and—” he lowered his voice so the children wouldn’t hear him. “—no fuckin’ clue who I was.” He chuckled. “I was hooked from that first conversation; an instant connection—there was something about her that told me she was going to be someone important to me, and I’d never felt that with anyone else.”

“What’d you do for your first date?”

His immediate thought was what happened after the bar, and his face felt hot. “We, uh, went out for drinks.”

“When did you know you loved her?”

He looked at the camera. “Honestly? Our third date. We were dancing in her kitchen to “¿Y cómo es él?”—”

“Mi mamá loves that song,” Seb said.

Javier huffed, smiling. “All my tías do. So, uh, we were dancing in her kitchen, and I realized she was the woman I was going to marry. I could see us having a future and was picturing what our Sunday mornings would look like—which, they’re exactly how I imagined—yeah, I knew I loved her on the third date and that we were going to get married one day.” He cleared his throat. “When my dad tells the story of the first time he saw my mother, he says his gut told him she was the one, and I always thought he was talking out of his—ass,” he whispered. “But it’s real and crazy to know deep down inside that you’ve found the person who completes you—feeling that confirmed she was it and that I truly did love her.”

“I think I know the feeling you’re talking about, and it’s great.”

“It is, and at your wedding, I’m gonna grill you on camera about it.”

“Hey, your wife is gonna eat this up, and you both want kids; think about your hijos (children) watching this one day and seeing how much you love their mom on your wedding day.”

The thought of sitting on the couch surrounded by his wife and kids, watching this wedding video, made him soften to the point he was putty—he wanted it to be a reality one day.

“What’s something you want to say to the bride before you get married?” Seb asked.

“I love you, and today is the best day of my entire fucking life—”

“—Eso es un dólar en la jarra, tío (That’s a dollar in the jar, uncle).” Olivia interrupted.

She meant the swear jar.

Javier sighed. “Lo siento, mi tesorito (I’m sorry, my little treasure). As I was saying, mi Cielito, I love you, and today is the best day of my entire freaking life. Happy isn’t enough to describe how I feel about us starting this new chapter of being husband and wife, and I’m looking forward to our future full of love, happiness, and hopefully, a lot of kids.” He smiled big. “I love you more than anything, and I will tell you that every day for the rest of our lives. Te amo, mi amor (I love you, my love).” To end the sentence, he blew a kiss at the camera lens.

In order to get to where Javi was, it involved Chucho driving you off-road, and the trip was bumpy; you sat in the passenger seat, and Robyn was in the backseat, and because your father-in-law was probably as nervous as you were about speaking in front of people, he held your hand the entire way.

The previous day, when you brought the Murphys out to the ranch, you’d taken them to where you were going to be wed to do a quick rehearsal on how things would go; Olivia was beyond ecstatic to be a flower girl, and Stevie didn’t really understand what was going on, except that his tío Javi had an important job for him.

Chucho pulled up and parked at the base of the hill with your door opposite it so you couldn’t get a closer look at everyone atop it. The butterflies in your belly were flapping around so hard you thought they might get out, while your mind was racing with what could go wrong like you falling—that was a reason you wore flats, but with how much of your dress touched the ground, there was a chance of it tripping you up. Or what if Javi’s handsomeness made your brain stop working, and you couldn’t speak a single coherent word? Something that has happened before. God, your heart was pounding, and you thought you might be having a minor panic attack due to your vision starting to tunnel—a small silver flask was held up in front of your face, the cap already twisted off.

“Take a drink, Mija,” Chucho’s soothing voice said. “It’ll calm you down.”

The man was a lifesaver.

You grabbed it, taking a big swig, and your face pinched as the whiskey burned down your throat—from the taste and smoothness, you recognized it as Javi’s favorite, which was top shelf, a little spendy, and probably came from the bottle your fiancé gifted his dad to thank him for his help in getting you to give the green light to start your family.

The effect the alcohol had on you was almost immediate, feeling all of the tense muscles in your body relax at the same time. Your father-in-law took the flask from you and knocked it back with a drink of his own.

“Robyn?” he asked when he finished, holding it up for her to reach.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she replied, accepting it from him to take a gulp.

“I couldn’t see Antonia before our wedding,” he said, his head turned your way, “or talk to her. We were kept apart at the church, and I was so nervous that I was shaking like a leaf.” He chuckled. “Not about getting married, but having to stand in front of so many people. It had to be minutes before I needed to go out with the priest that mi amor’s maid of honor, her best friend, found me to give me an opened bottle of tequila and a note written by Antonia that read, ‘Mi amor, un trago para el coraje (My love, a drink for courage). Yo también necesitaba uno (I needed one, too).’ And she left a lipstick stamp of her lips at the bottom, where she kissed the paper. I won’t deny it. I kissed where her lips had been and took two shots.”

The story made you smile.

Chucho had put on a jacket that matched his light grey pants, and you watched as he pulled something from the inside pocket. It was a small folded piece of paper that’d been ripped from the notepad he kept by the answering machine at his house to write down messages. He passed it over to you, and you unfolded it, finding Javi’s scratchy handwriting. You read what he wrote:

Cielito, You said you were never drinking again, but I think this can be an exception since you’re probably freaking the fuck out about embarrassing yourself like I am. I’m worried I’ll see how beautiful you are and forget how to talk, or my brain will stop working. Have a drink to calm your nerves, and know it will all be okay because we’re doing this together. I love you, Your husband

The note was touching, especially since he knew how you’d be feeling.

“When did he write this?” you asked Chucho, whose eyes you met, the man smiling.

“When he met up with Connie and all of them at the house before they came out here. I’d given him the flask when he got there as a gift, but he told me to keep it for you and asked if he could write you a message. It reminded me so much of his mother, I couldn’t say no.”

“Thanks, Pop. I needed it.”

“I know you did, Mija.” He patted your leg.

When Javier saw his father's truck in the distance, his heart rate increased, and by the time they parked at the bottom of the hill, his heart was beating so fast that he was sure it was going to beat right out of his chest.

With where he was standing at the tree and how the land sloped, he didn’t have a visual. Steve was beside him with Nate still in the carrier, Connie and Stevie, who was holding the pillow with the rings, had walked to the top of the hill and were looking down it, probably watching Olivia, who booked it to join the people at the truck. Seb was near Steve's wife and kid with the camcorder and a battery-powered boombox on the ground he was supposed to hit play on when Robyn gave him the signal.

Sweat was forming on his brow and on his palms. He turned to Steve.

"Do I look okay?" he asked his friend. "How's my hair? And the bow tie?" He lifted his chin.

The other man was wearing an amused smile. "Hair and bow tie look as fine as they did when you asked five minutes ago." He put a hand on Javier's shoulder and squeezed. "Relax, man—you look great. She's gonna love what she sees."

"I fucking hope so."

The sun had started its descent on the horizon and was the backdrop for the place they’d be standing; the sky where it met land was lit up in burning orange, bleeding into golden yellow where the sun was positioned, and high above that, it turned into a calming mauve.

The soft, melodic sound of a piano began, and it was Javier's cue to face the others. Christine McVie’s voice floated through the air as she sang the opening to the Fleetwood Mac song, "Songbird:"

“For you there'll be no more crying For you the Sun will be shining And I feel that when I'm with you It's alright, I know it's right.”

Seconds later, Robyn came into view, smiling while holding a small bouquet of sunflowers with a lavender ribbon wrapped around the stems. She shot her boyfriend, Sebastián, a wink as she passed him. She took her spot across from Javier beside where Cielito would be.

When he discussed with his wife-to-be the music for today, she only knew for sure what she wanted them to dance their first dance to, and since Javier didn’t object to it, she left what she’d walk down the aisle to up to him. He knew she’d hate the traditional “Bridal Chorus,” a couple of Elvis Presley songs came to mind, “No Sé Tú” by Luis Miguel perfectly described how Javier felt when they met and was a good option, “At Last” by Etta James would be appropriate, too, and “I Could Fall in Love” by Selena was in the running, because, Selena, but then he remembered this song on Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours—his favorite album, and for good reason with it having some of the band’s best classics like “The Chain,” “Dreams,” and “Go Your Own Way;” it was also seeping with palpable heartbreak of a messy breakup, except for the track, “Songbird.” It was a major tonal shift from all the angst with its pretty piano and Christine McVie crooning her love. What sold him on it were the lines:

“To you, I’ll give the world To you, I’ll never be cold ‘Cause I feel that when I’m with you It’s alright, I know it’s right.”

He loved it when he heard it played live at the band's concert twenty-three years ago—he’d been seventeen and still in high school; he and his buddies snuck off to Fort Worth to see them, and “Songbird” was the last song of their set before the encore.

It was his three-year-old sobrino’s (nephew’s) turn to walk forward, his mom sending him to his dad with the rings—they all laughed at how he ran as fast as he could, making Javier smile.

"Here, Daddy," the child said to Steve, holding up the pillow.

His father accepted it.

"Great job, kiddo—high-five." His friend had to bend a little to gently hit his palm to Stevie’s tinier one, and the toddler turned to Javier expectantly, who, of course, bent his knees and high-fived him.

"You did good, buddy,” he said.

Steve told his son to stand with him, and Connie went to be next to Robyn as everyone watched Olivia walk up, tossing red rose petals from a small white basket, leaving a trail of them behind her. He hum-sang under his breath along with the song:

“And the songbirds are singing Like they know the score And I love you, I love you, I love you Like never before.”

Finally, his bride came into view, her eyes locking onto his, and all the love he had for, all of his happiness, and thanks he had to the universe for making this day happen overflowed from him, falling as tears down his face and made his smile so big, he could feel the dimple in his cheek.

She was breathtaking and better than anything he could’ve imagined; this moment would be seared into his brain for all eternity, and he didn’t think he’d ever felt this happy in his entire life—he almost told Steve to make sure he didn’t float away.

Her bouquet was made up of roses from his mother’s garden, and his heart felt like it would burst. Then the dress—Jesus Christ, the dress was perfect with how it molded to her body and showed off her tits from the neckline V-ing between them. His fingers were itching to see if the fabric was as buttery smooth as it looked, wanting to explore the expanse with his fingertips, mapping out every curve, line, and dip he’d already ventured countless times before but now on a new canvas; He desired to feel her softness under his palms and cradle her beautiful face to kiss those delectable lips he so loved; he wanted to hold her in his arms, her familiar shape he knew as intimately as his own, pressed against him, where she belonged.

All of it was getting him too excited, and his pants were feeling tighter, just as he suspected might happen.

Javier’s dream wedding night would have them partying with their friends and family well into the later hours and holding off on consummating their marriage until they retired to the room he rented at the nicest hotel in town he was surprising her with. He’d been determined to do just that up until he had to spend the previous evening by himself where he was alone with his thoughts and ruminated on how beautiful she was going to look, that she was going to be his wife, and one day soon, the mother of his children; since she wasn’t there to distract him by simply being in his vicinity, he worked himself up until he was rock hard and had to take a freezing shower.

He didn’t see there being any chance they’d make it to the hotel without them fucking at least once beforehand.

God, she was so fucking gorgeous.

He had to wipe at the wetness on his face, his smile continuing to shine.

Telling her his feelings in front of everyone wasn’t all he’d been nervous about; his brain was a real asshole, and there’d been a tiny thread of worry she wasn’t going to show—it was stupid, to have even fathomed something so absurd, yet looking at how shitty his luck was up until they met, he thought it wouldn’t have been too surprising that this time he’d be the one left at the altar.

But she was here! She came! And he was so overjoyed he couldn’t stop crying.

Wait.

Oh, fuck, she was close now—what was he supposed to do? It only just registered that she was walking with his dad, and they were almost to him, and he couldn’t remember what needed to happen when she got to him. His heart was pounding a mile a minute, and he was starting to panic that he didn’t know what his next move was, worried he was going to fuck it all up; it was unbelievable that he’d been in gunfights, had to think on the fly to stay alive many times, and put on press conferences, yet at this moment when there wasn’t any danger or eager reporters, he was so overwhelmed by the woman he loved’s beauty, and that she was marrying him, his brain had ceased functioning entirely, and he was spiraling at embarrassing himself with so many onlookers.

Javi was having a panic attack.

The change in his eyes, how they went from bright and happy to panicked, clued you in, and any nervousness you felt flew out the window because your only concern was helping him.

Unhooking your arm from Chucho, you held out the hand, not holding flowers to Robyn.

“Flask me,” you said. Quickly, she pulled it from her pocket and passed it to you, taking your bouquet in return. You stepped in front of your betrothed as you unscrewed the cap on the container of booze. “Hey, baby,” you said in a soothing tone. “You’re okay.” You grabbed his hand and put the flask in it, pushing it toward his face. “Have a drink to calm your nerves. Everything is gonna be okay, honey. Remember, we’re doing this together—it’s just us.”

The music had stopped playing.

He shook his head once like he was trying to shake the bad stuff out, and he took a drink, or several, with how his Adam’s apple kept bobbing.

“Looks like I’ll be driving us after this.” The adults surrounding you chuckled, and you smiled.

His hand lowered, and his vision focused on you, a pink flush spreading over his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“No reason to be sorry—I freaked out in the car.” You took the flask from him, screwed on the cap, and handed it back to Robyn without looking. “Feeling better?” you asked, smoothing your fingers over his bangs while his eyes were on yours.

“Much,” he answered with a small smile, his palms moving to rest on your hips.

“Wanna get married?”

“More than anything.”

“Good—liquid courage helps.” You leaned in to kiss his cheek, then put your lips near his ear for only him to hear, “Say the word, and we’ll pack up, go party with everyone, and hit the courthouse tomorrow.”

He spoke softly in your ear, “Thank you, Cielito, but I promise I’m okay.” He kissed your cheek. “I told you I’d see how beautiful you are and forget how to function.”

You giggled, pulling back to look at him, taking in the black tuxedo jacket and bow tie over his crisp white shirt and the lavender pocket square and the pinned violet rose for a pop of color—his hair still looked good, and you rubbed away the tears on his cheeks with your thumbs.

When he saw you in your wedding dress, the expression on his face was something you’d never forget—it was a look of pure, uninhibited joy, and you were sure you saw hearts in his eyes with how they beamed his immense love and devotion. The way that it had him crying happy tears made you feel emotional that someone loved you with such magnitude. It’s why your immediate thought when you saw him panicking wasn’t that he wanted to back out, knowing from his note that he was freaking the fuck out about embarrassing himself, and the nerves got him.

“Let’s get married.” His head turned to kiss one of your palms.

“Let’s get married.”

Turning to your almost-father-in-law, you gave him a quick hug, and he kissed your forehead before he moved to give Javi a side hug, careful of the stuff held in one of his hands and whispering something in his son’s ear, you didn’t catch.

The elder Peña went to stand at his place in front of the tree, holding his worn, soft leather bible, with a picture of Javi’s mother stuck to the cover and a note card sticking out from between the pages to mark a spot.

Javier took your hand, and you both walked the few steps to your spots before his father; he grasped your other palm in his once you faced one another, Chucho on your left and Javi’s right.

Your husband-to-be mouthed, ‘I love you,’ and you silently replied with the movement of your lips, ‘I love you, too.’

Chucho cleared his throat, and your attention went to him.

“Welcome, loved ones,” he started, “we are gathered here today in the sight of God and each other to bear witness to the perfect union of Javier, and—” He said your name. “What a joyous day we get to share with them as they embark on this new journey of a life together in matrimony that will, no doubt, be long, healthy, and filled with love, happiness, and laughter.

“Mijo, Mija,” he addressed you both, “I called this union between you perfect, and I meant it. Besides my marriage to my dear Antonia, que en paz descanse (may she rest in peace), I cannot think of two other people more suited to share a life together. It’s clear the good you bring out in one another and how happy you make each other.” His eyes landed on you. “And you truly make my son happy. This might come as a shock,” he said to everyone in attendance, “but Javier is a smiley guy when he’s happy, and I haven’t seen him smile so much in a long, long time.

“He also has never been able to hide his feelings because that handsome face of his tells his secrets—it’s his—” He glanced at you. “—I’m stealing this from you, Mija—it’s his puppy dog eyes, he got from his mother, and she suffered the same problem.” His gaze stayed on you. “I know Javier loves you more than there’s blue in all the sky because he looks at you the same way mi amor looked at me, and as we know, their eyes don’t lie.”

He was right, and it made you choke up that he knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of such honesty and the weight of so much love.

Chucho looked at his son. “Your media naranja (soulmate) isn’t much better.” He nodded toward you. “Her eyes betray her, too, even when she does her damndest to hide behind a mask. When she looks at you, though, the truth of her love is revealed—her thoughts are loud when she stares at you, and sometimes I think I can hear them; the declaration of ‘I love you,’ she’s repeating over and over again. She looks at you like you’re her whole world, and I know it’s true from those looks, how she treats and cares for you, the things she does for you, even when you don’t ask, and the effort she puts into cultivating your relationship.”

He spoke to you both again. “Marriage can be wonderful with the right person, but it isn’t always easy; I want to take a moment and give you some advice that kept my marriage happy.

“Be best friends—talk about everything, even when you don’t want to or it’s a hard subject. Communicate your needs and wants constantly, and don’t stop talking to each other. Be best friends who share everything, and I mean everything, because your relationship needs to be built upon trust, and there’s nothing better than spending your life with your best friend.

“Keep having fun—joke around, cook together, dance in the kitchen, don’t stop having fun. And keep dating each other. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean that the dating stops. Go out, stay in, just have romantic time you dedicate to one another; that way, the spark stays alive. I know it’ll be harder to do when you have kids; you’ll be exhausted and won’t have much energy. Dating still needs to be a priority, and it doesn’t have to be anything exciting; it can be as simple as putting the kids to bed, staying up, watching a movie together, or baking cookies.”

“—or folding laundry together,” Steve interjected.

Javi chuckled, and you were confused. He leaned toward you to whisper in your ear, “It’s their code word for sex.”

“Oh, that’s smart,” you said as he straightened.

A furrow was between Chucho’s eyebrows. “I guess folding laundry can be romantic…” the older man said. “Now, where was I?” He opened his bible and pulled out the notecard, his eyes scanning over. “Oh, yes—anyone can fall in love; it’s nurturing that love, sharing your life with the other, facing challenges together, and growing as one that makes it real love, and what you have is real. The love you share and I had with my wife is beautiful, but it’s also fierce, it’s powerful, and all consuming; it’s not something anyone can get between and will live on even when you no longer walk the earth. I know you didn’t want a religious ceremony, but there’s a scripture I’d like to share that perfectly describes what I mean. May I?” he asked, his bible already open to the page.

Javier and you figured he’d slip in a verse or two simply because he was a devout Christian man. It was nice of him to ask permission first, though. You turned your head to meet your almost-husband’s eyes and shrugged that you were fine with it. He smiled, his attention going back to his father.

“Go ahead,” Javi said.

Chucho had a toothy grin. “Wonderful—it’s in Songs of Solomon 8 and reads: Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If one offered for love all the wealth of one’s house, it would be utterly scorned.”

He shut the bible with one hand, his notes resting atop it.

“I wish more people got to experience that kind of love—it’d do the world a whole lot of good. Javier—” He looked at his son, then over to you, saying your name. “I know with how you feel for each other, it’s natural to think marriage is the next step in your relationship. I want you to be sure you know what you’re getting into.” His eyes were moving between you both. “This is a lifelong commitment that will have its ups and downs, highs and lows, and you’ll need to challenge yourselves to love the other more completely each and every day. Are you ready to take this step?”

Without missing a beat, Javi and you said simultaneously, ‘Yes,’ your hands still in his.

Chucho smiled. “Wonderful. Javier—” His eyes went to his son. “—do you take—” He said your name. “—to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you honor her, cherish her, love, trust, and commit to her and her alone, through joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever else life may throw at you both, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Javi said.

His father turned his attention to you and addressed you by name. “—do you take Javier to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you honor him, cherish him, love, trust, and commit to him and him alone, through joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever else life may throw at you both, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” you answered.

“It’s time for you to share the vows you’ve written for one another before you exchange rings. Who’d like to go first?”

“Me!” you said immediately, and everyone laughed. “I need to get them out of the way before Javi makes me a blubbering mess. Robyn, vows me.” Turning her way, you put out your hand, and she juggled the two bouquets she held to pull a folded piece of paper from her pocket to hand to you. “Have I told you your dress is amazing?” you asked her.

“Thank you—I look good and have pockets. What could be better?”

“Dresses with pockets are a game-changer.” You faced Javi, and heat bloomed up your neck and on your face at remembering you had to say how you felt in front of people.

“Hey,” Javi said to get your attention, and your gazes locked. “It’s just me,” he whispered. “Talk to me—no one else is here.”

“Right.” You smiled, then focused on the lined notebook paper you unfolded that had your writing on it. “Javier Jesús Peña López,” you began, “the first of his name, King of my heart, Lord of our tiny apartment, and Protector of me—”

“Just Javi’s fine,” he said.

You giggled. “Javi, not a day goes by that I am unaware of how lucky I am to have found you. When I think about how much time you spent away from this town—that I both love and hate—all the people you’ve met, the life you’ve lived, and the things you’ve gone through, it’s a miracle our paths crossed, and possibly Divine Intervention or the universe doing me a solid, that after everything that’s happened to you, you’ve ended up here, with me.

“It’s crazy the number of obstacles we’ve had to face together and how many people are obsessed with making your life difficult—this isn’t me complaining. I’m weirdly thankful for it; it’s kept us on our toes and tested our bond. It’s improved our communication and has built a strong foundation for our relationship.

“Something I’m also thankful for is the trust we share. I can count on you. I know you’re true to your word, and I have no reason to worry about you ever being deceitful.

“What’s also reassuring is your star signs back up the faith I have in you—as a Sagittarius, you value honesty, and when you find someone you think is really worth it, you commit, and you commit hard. With Capricorn and Scorpio in your top three, you’re super loyal, a little possessive, and definitely a relationship guy. To sum all of that up, you’re pretty much perfect and an amazing partner.

“You’re a good man, the best I’ve known. My life is better with you in it. Thank you for loving me.” Tears started to distort your vision, the emotion coming through in your voice. “Thank you for loving me unconditionally. Thank you for your unwavering support and for being my rock. Thank you for being my protector and making me feel so safe with you. Thank you for being my best friend and the love of my life.”

You had to take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“Here are my promises to you,” you said, “I promise to love you until the end of time, and if I happen to go first, haunt you until we can be together again.” He chuckled. “I promise to be your protector and to always have your back; I will go to battle for you in a heartbeat, and hopefully, you know that. I promise to be honest, and it should go without saying because, as we’ve established, you’re perfect, but I promise to be faithful. I promise to keep making you laugh and smile. I promise to put you first and to always be your best friend—sorry, Steve.”

“You can have him,” Steve replied, and everyone laughed.

You continued speaking, “I promise to make your mother’s tamales a couple times a year—I promise to make you one of her other recipes on the days you miss her particularly bad. I promise to keep reminding you that you’re sexier and better than Harrison Ford.” That one made him and the others crack up. “I promise to rap “Whatta Man” for you every time it comes on, so you don’t forget whatta man you are. I promise to dance with you in the kitchen every chance we get. I promise to try, keyword here, try, not to recite the movies word for word when we watch Star Wars or Addams Family Values. I promise to always make sure we don’t run out of limes or your hot sauce or side-eye you when you put either on the perfectly seasoned food I made. I promise to always leave you the last of the ice cream because you’re a dirty liar when you say you don’t want it. I promise to tell you I love you every day until the day I die. I promise that you and your love will always be enough, and I’ll always pick you; I’ll always choose you over anyone else.

“Today, the separate books of our lives have come to an end, and we’re starting the next one together—I can’t wait to see what each new chapter will bring. What I know for sure—” You glanced over at Chucho. “—I’m stealing this from you, Pop—” Your eyes went to Javi’s, and his were reddened, his face glistening from crying and flushed from the alcohol. “—What I know for sure,” you said, “is this new adventure we’re beginning, will be filled with love, happiness, and laughter.

“Javi, you are my person. You’re the love of my life, my one true love, mi media naranja, the person I want to go to sleep with every night and wake up with every morning. You’re my best friend and my forever.

“I love you, Javier Jesús Peña López and I am so happy I get to spend eternity with you.”

His smile was big enough his dimple was showing and you hated that you couldn’t kiss him.

Chucho sniffled, putting his bible under his arm to get his handkerchief from his pocket, lifting his glasses to wipe away his tears.

“That was beautiful, Mija. When you’re ready, Javi, go ahead.”

All she said had Javier feeling so unbelievably happy that he couldn’t stop the waterfall of tears streaming down his cheeks, and he thought his smile might be permanently stuck on his face—he was sure the alcohol wasn’t helping him to keep his composure.

His dad’s speech had gotten him, too, especially about how Chucho could see her feelings for him and said their love was real. He always wondered if the intensity of what he felt for her was normal, and hearing that his parents were the same way reassured him that they just had a strong connection. His father’s advice was helpful, too, and he planned on following it.

She looked incredible and smelled amazing; her perfume wasn’t one she’d worn before, but he knew the scent because he got it for her as a Christmas present—it was intoxicating, and he was dying to shove his face into her neck to drown himself in it. With the emotions she was eliciting from him, her beauty, the perfume, and the whiskey he drank, it was a heady combination that had him feeling buzzed, and he was so caught up in all of it that it had completely slipped his mind that he had to speak.

“Shit,” he said under his breath and barely pulled open the left side of his jacket to get into the inside pocket. First, he grabbed his reading glasses, which he put on, then the folded piece of yellow, lined paper he’d taken from a legal pad at work.

“I am literally the luckiest woman in the world,” Cielito said, and his eyes lifted to her. She was smiling, her eyelashes wet, and she looked incredibly delighted.

“The glasses?” he asked with a smirk.

“Oh, yeah,” she answered. “You’re spoiling me. I get glasses Javi in a tuxedo, and he’s gonna say pretty, romantic things about how much he loves me—talk about the best day ever.”

“With how you look?” he said. “It’s my best day ever, too.”

She playfully smacked his arm. “Stop it, don’t make me want to suck—”

Robyn started coughing loudly, and his wife-to-be’s eyes widened.

“—hug you more,” she tried to save and cringed. “Hugs, not drugs, am I right?” She chuckled nervously.

He snorted, shaking his head. “You ready?” he asked.

“Wait.” Her upper body twisted so she could look behind her. “Tissue me,” she said to Robyn, and her friend got a clean one out of her pocket and exchanged it for Cielito’s folded paper. She faced him again. “Okay, I’m ready. Remember to focus on me. No one else is here.”

“That’ll be easy.” He cleared his throat, his eyes moving to what he’d written. It wasn’t something he said often, but he let her first name slide off his tongue, thinking how perfect it was going to sound paired with his last. “—mi Cielito, mi amor, mi alma, mi media naranja, y ahora, mi esposa (My Cielito, my love, my soul, my soulmate, and now, my wife), my life didn’t begin until the moment I met you; what I mean by that, is I was alive, yes, I was breathing, I had a pulse, but I didn’t start living until we met. You made me want to live and be happy—for so long, I thought I would die miserable and alone, and you showed me that I deserved happiness and to be loved.” His eyes were burning, and the following sentence made him choke up. “You showed me I deserved a family of my own.” Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. “Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I thank the universe, the powers that be. I thank whoever let you find me because I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you.”

He went off script to look into her beautiful, teary eyes. “Pop was right; I love you more than there’s blue in the sky, I love you more than there’s water in all the depths of the oceans, I love you more than there are stars in the entire galaxy—I love you more than anything, and I mean anything.”

He focused on what he’d written again. “I once told you I didn’t believe in true love, and I didn’t—that was just made-up stuff in the cartoon movies I watched with Olivia. Or at least I thought it was before you, and then, having you in my life, I discovered it was real. With you, ‘media naranja (soulmate)’ isn’t just a term of endearment; it’s an acknowledgment that you’re my other half and that we’re two parts meant to be together. Love with you transcends what most people have; we feel it deeper than our bones, all the way down into our souls, where we’re connected.

“Our love is true love.”

Wetness was dripping from his eyes to splatter onto the paper.

“Those fairytale movies got something right, and it’s that this kind of love would make a person fight dragons and sea witches for their true love. As my father said, it’s fierce, powerful, and all-consuming. It doesn’t end when our hearts stop beating; it continues on—it’s infinite—what we feel for one another is more than a single life can handle, and I’ll follow you when this one’s over; we’ll find each other again, and live another life together because there is no me without you or you without me.

“From the first day we met, I knew you were special. We spent hours talking in that bar, and I’ve never felt such peace or so comfortable with someone; with you, I don’t have to keep my guard up. I can be vulnerable, speak what’s on my mind, and openly show my affection. With you, I’m safe, and from the first night, you were my Cielito, my little heaven—there’s no better name for you, not with how happy you make me, how you make me feel, and how much better my life is with you.

“You’re my little heaven, mi Cielito, my everything. You’ve shown me more love than I’ve ever known—thank you.” His voice faltered, and he had to wipe at his eyes as best he could beneath his glasses. “Those two words aren’t enough to express my gratitude, and I will spend every waking moment showing you how thankful I am for you and all you’ve done.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said, “it’s not enough, but thank you.”

He sounded gravelly, the words thick. “In you, I’ve found love, a wife, a partner for life, a best friend, an incredible lover, a home, a teacher to show me how to live; someone who makes me happy, makes me laugh, someone to have a family with, who supports me, inspires me, and makes me want to be a better man.

“Thank you for being all of this and more. Thank you for marrying me today and making me the happiest man in the entire goddamn universe.

“Fuck,” he breathed, taking off his readers to hold with the paper while his other hand scrubbed away the tears. “I really hoped I wouldn’t cry this much—it’s embarrassing.”

“I love it,” she reassured. “It just shows you really mean what you’re saying.”

He put the lenses back on and looked at her, seeing her eyes were red from crying, the tissue in her hand stained with mascara—she’d managed to keep from ruining the rest of her makeup.

“I do mean it all,” he said.

She was smiling. “I know.”

Javier composed himself by taking a deep breath and clearing his throat. Finally, he was ready to speak again. “It was hard figuring out my vows because I wanted to promise you everything your heart could possibly desire, but Pop said that was boring.” He frowned.

“And that he needed to do better,” Chucho added.

Javier sighed.

“I would’ve been fine with that vow,” Cielito said.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “Pop was right. You deserve the best.” He took another deep breath and slowly let it out, looking at what he’d written and patting himself on the back for making notes—he was definitely too emotional and tipsy to have remembered everything he wanted to say. “Cielito,” he started, “you have all my love and devotion, and I give you myself; my mind, body, and soul belong to you. I vow to never stop loving you, even when this earth is no more and the stars stop shining. I vow to make you feel loved and cherished until the end of my days. I vow to always be your best friend, your confidant, your shoulder to cry on, y un chismoso contigo (and a gossiper with you)—me encanta chismear contigo (I love to gossip with you).”

She giggled, and he smiled.

“I vow to be your equal in everything and give more than I take. I vow to always be there for you no matter what, in sickness and health, when life is easy and hard, I’ll stand by you and be your anchor.” The next one made his smile get bigger. “I vow to treat you like una reina (a queen) and be the best husband you could ask for so when you brag to your girlfriends, they can see their worth and deserve to be treated like queens, too. I vow to be the best father, one you can rely on, and doesn’t call watching my own children babysitting; I’ll pull my weight, I’ll never let you get overwhelmed, and I’ll be an active parent who loves our kids so fu-freaking much.”

“I vow to keep you safe and always make you feel safe; I’ll protect you and our children with my life. I vow to make sure all of your needs are met.” He smirked, glancing at her. “I vow to ‘fold laundry’ with you whenever you ask.” He winked, and she laughed.

“Why are adults so obsessed with laundry?” He heard Olivia ask.

“I’m wonderin’ the same thing, kiddo,” Robyn said. “I’m not obsessed with it.”

“Oh, believe me, you are,” Connie replied.

“I know the stars,” Javier said, “that astrology stuff you love, told you this already, but I want you to hear it from me, too: I vow to be loyal to you and faithful, always—to me, you are the only woman I see, or will ever want; I vow to put you and our family before all else.”

He looked at her with a smile. “I have some more things I’m gonna promise after hearing yours. I vow to always give you my pickles.” Her grin was big and happy as she giggled. “I vow to always let you sing Freddie Mercury’s parts in Bohemian Rhapsody while I do the guitar solo, and I’ll always leave you the last piece of cheesecake because I love you and value my life.” That made her giggle harder. “I vow to try, the keyword here is try, to not, as you put it, ‘creepily watch you while you sleep,’ even though you’re guilty of the same thing.” Her giggles transformed into laughter. “I vow to always dance with you when we’re cleaning the house and in the kitchen while we cook together. I vow to pretend—I mean, agree that you’re the best driver in Laredo and always know your way around, even when you don’t.”

There was a reason he drove them the majority of the time.

“Rude!” she gasped. “I’m an amazing driver!”

“I agree, mi amor, you’re the best in Laredo.” He winked again, folded his paper, and put it back in his inner pocket. He spoke as he took off his reading glasses. “There’s one more thing I vow,” he said, putting the lenses away. His hands were free and he grabbed hers, ignoring the tissue clenched in one of her palms, and stared adoringly into her eyes. “I vow that years from now—decades—after our kids are grown, and we’ve retired, maybe we’ll be living in Florida like other retirees, or we’ll still be here where our family lives and we made our best memories; I vow that when we’re old and grey and can’t hear or see shit without hearing aids or glasses, that we’ll look back on our life together, and we’ll have no regrets.

“Zero,” he said.

“We did everything we wanted and lived the life we shared to the fullest, filled with love, happiness, and laughter.”

Her shoulders started to shake, and she had to let go of his hand to blot at her eyes.

“Javier!” she cried, and he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close. “Why would you end with something so sweet?”

“Para que sepas cómo nuestro futuro será (So you know what our future together will be like). Quería que vieras que cuando me des ese anillo, te daré mi futuro y lo que venga después de eso (I wanted you to see that when you give me that ring, I’ll give you my future and whatever comes after that).”

She leaned back to look at him, and he was impressed that only her mascara had gotten messed up. She poked him in the chest and said, “That ring is going on your finger right this second.” Javier chuckled as her head turned to his dad. “Can we do the rings now, please?”

Chucho laughed. “Yes, Mija, you can do the rings. Who has them?” he asked aloud.

“Me!” Steve answered and moved to stand next to the older man, being careful not to bump Nate, who’d fallen asleep in the backpack carrier. At some point, the three-year-old Stevie had gone over to his mom and was now sitting in the grass next to her, eating Goldfish crackers out of a plastic baggy from the diaper bag near them. Steve untied the ribbon keeping the gold bands secured, then picked them both up, the pillow getting shoved under his arm. “Here, Jav.” Javier turned a little, holding out his palm to his friend, and her ring was set in it. He faced his bride again.

“At this time, they will exchange rings,” Chucho said, holding his bible in front of him with the notecard atop it. “Javier, go ahead and place it on her finger.” She looked adorably giddy, presenting her left hand to him, and he held it in his palm as he slid the band onto the finger with her engagement ring, pressing it against the other. “Now, repeat after me,” his dad said, reading his notes, “‘with this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving husband forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.”

Javier’s eyes fastened onto hers, and he repeated what his father said: “With this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving husband forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.” When he finished speaking, he lifted her hand to press his lips to the new addition on her finger with a kiss, keeping his gaze on her watery one.

“I love you,” she told him.

His thumb rubbed over the gold as he lowered her arm. “I love you, too.”

“Mija,” Chucho said, “it’s your turn.”

Javier held his hand out for her to take, and when she did, goosebumps rose on his skin, practically vibrating from anticipation. Her palm was smaller and softer than his, and he watched as Steve passed her the remaining ring. A big smile formed on his face at her not waiting for his father’s instruction, putting the band onto his finger immediately—it got stuck on his knuckle, and she had to wiggle it a little to finally slide it home.

“Repeat after me,” Chucho said, “‘with this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving wife forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.”

She held his larger palm in both of her smaller ones, gazing into his eyes and smiling as she said, “With this ring, I seal my promise to be your loving wife forevermore, and just as it has no end, neither shall my love for you.”

His breath hitched as he watched her raise his hand to kiss the band, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

His father started speaking to them, “Now that you’ve proclaimed your love for one another and exchanged rings as a seal of the promises you made today in front of these witnesses and myself, by the power vested in me by the great State of Texas, I am so happy to pronounce you husband and wife! Javier, you may now kiss your bride!”

There was clapping and hollering, someone patted his back, and Javier didn’t waste any time—he was told he could finally kiss this stunning woman in front of him, who he loved more than anything; she completed him and made him happy like no one else—ella es su vida (she is his life), su amor (his love), su media naranja (his soulmate), finalmente su esposa (finally his wife), his Cielito.

The fingers of one of his hands traced over the familiar line of her jaw, the other pulling her tight to his chest, finding the fabric of her dress was as buttery soft as he suspected. The sun had barely sunk below the horizon, leaving the sky fiery in its wake, and as it descended, so did Javier’s mouth onto hers, crushing his lips to hers. At the first touch, it felt like electricity was thrumming just below his skin, his heart racing, the press of her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck making tingles wash down his spine.

It was almost like he was kissing her for the first time, and it started out gentle, wanting to savor this moment with his wife—his wife—they were married. He was a husband and wearing a ring, the metal currently pressed to the warm skin of her cheek. His excitement got the better of him, and he deepened the kiss, licking in her mouth, her soft moan causing arousal to erupt in his belly, feeling blood begin to rush to his groin. She seemed to be just as ravenous as him, their tongues tangling and her hands gripping handfuls of his hair.

Javier didn’t think he could be happier than he was at this moment.

This was the best day of his entire fucking life.

He was a married man with an amazing wife and their lives were intertwined now, becoming one they both shared. What wound him up even more was her taking his last name—not in a possessive way, but because it was another thing they’d share, and Javier wanted to share everything with her. Name, life, home, things, children, all of it, he wanted to have and with her by his side.

His dad’s voice showed amusement when he heard him speak. “We’ll just let them get that out of their system.” People laughed. “It’s my great pleasure to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Peña!”

Mr. and Mrs. Peña.

Nothing sounded more perfect.

They hadn’t stopped kissing, too caught up in each other.

“Why are they trying to eat each other’s faces?” Olivia asked, clearly confused.

Steve shouted, “Cover her eyes, Connie!”

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a/n: The song she walked down the aisle to was "Songbird" by Fleetwood Mac. The bible verse mentioned is Song of Solomon 8:6-7 (RSVCE).

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

#pedro pascal #javier peña #Javier Peña/reader #Javier Peña/you #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #wheresarizona writes #learning to live series

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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months

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i'm not the only one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | You have your baby. You have your family. But can you really have everything you want? Can you really have your cake and eat it too?

Warnings | Fluff, mentions of breastfeeding, small children (in my world they need to come with a warning because ew), let's say it one more time for old times sake: TOMMY GETTING CUCKED BECAUSE HE LOVES IT, dirty talk, fingering (f) and allusions to other smut.

Word Count | 1.9k

Authors Note | Wow. I just wanted to take some time to say a huge thank you to everyone who has read and supported me through this little fic. What started as a filthy little one-shot has become something super special to me. I'm so proud with how this turned out and I really hope that you love this ending as much as I do. I need to say a massive thank you to the JFC - @cavillscurls @dinsdjrn @morning-star-joy @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @sinsofsummers for continuously losing their mind over this fic with me and helping me come up with the ending where no-one gets their heart broken, I love you girls more than I can express 🧡 Thank you to each and every person who has read this, has given me their love, interacted with me and generally just made me the happiest girl for deciding to come back to fic writing. You're all awesome and I love each and every one of you. Please let me know what you thought of this, either by commenting, reblogging or sending me some love in my ask box, and if you'd like to support me with a donation, you can do so over on Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The late September sun is still warm, even as it begins dipping below the horizon, painting the sky a beautiful mix of pink and orange. The beer in your bottle is lukewarm, but you finish it off anyway, attention dropping to your son, sat on your knee, as you bounce it up and down to keep him occupied at the table. He’s just turned two and is a much better table companion at Joel’s birthday cook-out than he had been last year. He’s starting to show a little personality, babbling along when Sarah tried to talk to him, teasing Tommy when he hands his son a toy, throwing it to the ground because he already knows he’ll pick it right back up and play along.

Everyone else has long gone by this point in the evening. This year’s celebration of Joel’s birthday being held at your house because he’s having his garden landscaped. It’s just the five of you, the people who matter most to you in life, sat around, finishing drinks and just enjoying each other’s company. Sarah yawns to your left, the day finally catching up with her.

“You tired, bug?” Joel asks, smoothing a hand over her hair.

“I’m not tired.” But she yawns again, chuckles erupting from the table.

You poke at her arm, “Your room is ready whenever you are.” It had already been agreed that Sarah and Joel would stay here tonight, so he could have a drink and enjoy his birthday without worrying about driving home.

To her credit, she lasts another hour sat at the table, but once Joshua starts fussing as well, it’s clear it’s time for everyone to call it a night. Joel kisses Sarah on the forehead, wishing her a goodnight as she heads inside. Tommy takes Joshua from your arms and presses a kiss to the top of your head, leaving you and Joel together for the first time that evening. You reach out your arm across the table, palm up to the darkening sky, Joel’s own, much larger hand, slipping into it.

“Shall we go?” You ask, the smile across your face mirroring his own.

“I think we should.”

As you’re walking through the neighbourhood your mind drags back to this time last year and the conversation with Tommy as Joel’s birthday loomed on the horizon.

“What do you think we should get him for his birthday?” Tommy asked, flipping through the catalogue of construction gear that comes through the letterbox every few months, “He was saying his toolbox is too small these days, maybe we can get him a bigger one?”

Joshua is cradled against your chest, suckling as you feed him. You’d always wondered how the other women you knew could multitask before he’d been born. One of your best friends could breastfeed her child, cook dinner and talk to her older daughter all at the same time. Now, standing in the kitchen feeding your son, two pans on the stovetop as you cook, holding a conversation with Tommy, you realise it just came naturally.

“I mean, we can,” You throw over your shoulder, “But I think that man deserves more than a toolbox for his birthday.”

Once Joshua has finished feeding, you hand him to Tommy, along with placing a rag over his shoulder – you fed him, Tommy gets to burp him, that’s the deal.

“I just feel bad,” You comment, going back to pushing the steak around the pan, “Do you not feel like you’ve kinda just abandoned him a little?”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asks, patting his son on the back.

You sigh, trying to focus on cooking as you speak, “I just mean that he did this for us, gave us this life we have now, and what are we going to do to thank him? Give him a toolbox? Just seems like we don’t care.”

“Well, what would you suggest?” He asks, you're quiet in response, trying to think of how best to put this, "You miss him, don't you?" He finally asks.

You turn around, leaning against the counter to the side of the stove, “I do miss him,” You say simply, not afraid to admit it, “You said before Joshua was born that you understood the connection we have, I just want to give him something good.”

Tommy has Joshua cradled in his arms now, trying to get him to go to sleep so he can lie him down and enjoy dinner with you in peace, "You wanna fuck him for his birthday?" There's a smirk on his lips, just like there was when you'd needed Joel before Joshua was born.

“Hey, language!” You chastise, pointing to his son in his arms, “Don’t say it like that either, you know you come first, you always have, I love you Tommy, but can’t we just give him one time, once a year, where I can really show him how grateful I am for what he gave us?”

You can see him mull it over in his mind as he bounces his son in his arms before he relents, “Okay,” He’s smiling, and it reaches his eyes, so you know he really means it, “If that’s what you want, I’m happy.”

You smile, walking over to kiss him, “I don’t deserve you,” You murmur against his lips, “I love you so very much, Tommy Miller.”

Joel thinks, as he walks hand in hand with you back to his home, that he really didn’t need this. He didn’t need thanking for what he’d done. He remembers walking into your hospital room with Sarah after Joshua had been born – she’d insisted on picking the biggest and brightest bouquet of flowers for you and had been so excited to finally meet her nephew. He’d pushed open the door for her that day and had been overcome with a strange sense of satisfaction.

You were propped up in bed, Joshua cradled in your arms, his tiny hand clutched around one of your fingers, Tommy stood, hand brushing your hair as he looked down at the both of you with pure adoration. He knew he’d given you everything in that moment, that he’d managed to make the two of you the happiest people ever, and that was enough. A fleeting moment in time between you and him, that had created the most beautiful baby boy he’d ever laid eyes on, he’d been happy to let it lie, to wait and see if you wanted more and came back to him down the line.

He hadn’t expected that on his birthday last year, you’d have cornered him and kissed him with such passion that he wasn’t sure he’d survive once he pulled away from you. Then you explained, one night a year, he could choose when, where you could show him how thankful you were to him. A night just to yourselves, without Tommy’s eyes trailing over you both. Secret and sacred between the two of you.

Once Joel has unlocked his front door and brought you inside, he wastes no time. He craves this, has spent the last year thinking of the moment he gets to fuse his lips with yours. It’s soft, as his mouth opens against yours, slow as your tongues meet, he doesn’t have to rush with you anymore, he gets you to himself for the whole night. He pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Hey.” You smile softly.

“Hey, pretty girl,” He’s smiling, palms resting at your hips, “You want me to take you upstairs?

You bite at your bottom lip and breathe out, “Yes.”

He leads you up the stairs, your hand clutched in his own, through the threshold of his bedroom. He settles himself on top of his sheets, head propped up on his pillows as he motions you to join him. You clamber onto the bed, crawling up his body on your hands and knees until you’re straddling his hips with your mouth back on his.

As you grind your hips down onto him, his hands coming to cup your ass under your dress, you can feel him growing hard for you. All you want is to strip him down and put your mouth on him, but it seems he has other ideas, and since this is all for him, you let him take the lead. He slips his hands under the waistband of your panties, warm hands on your flesh as he pulls them down as far as they’ll go in this position.

“Lie down for me, babygirl.” He whispers against your lips, you oblige, settling yourself down on your back as he pulls your underwear off fully, shucking the hem of your dress up to your hips.

He’s got one of his arms under your head, his lips at your ear as you spread your legs for him, letting his fingers slip through your folds to gather the slick that has slowly been gathering there all evening as you both watched each other, knowing what was coming.

“So wet for me, pretty girl,” He breathes into your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth to nibble as he slips two of his fingers into your tight pussy, “Been thinking about me?”

He drags those fingers from your core, up to your clit where he begins to play soft circles across it, it’s so gentle that your breath catches in your throat as you arch yourself into his hand, “Couldn’t stop,” You admit, turning your face to kiss his lips, “Thought about you all day.”

He dips his fingers back into your cunt as he kisses you, you can feel him smirk against your lips when you grind down to meet his fingers, “I’ve been thinking about you all year, hot mama, couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.”

He brings his slick fingers back up to your swollen bundle of nerves, showering it with attention as you whimper for him, arching your back and bucking your hips, fingers gripping at his arm as he works you to the crest. You come for him, moaning into his mouth as he kisses you, his fingers making sure they work you for every ounce of your orgasm.

Joel has you more times than he can count that night. He brings you over the edge over and over again until you can do nothing but sob, beg for a reprieve but beg him not to stop. You let him put you in positions you didn’t know possible, his cock thick and heavy inside you, brushing that spot within you that makes you sing and scream for him. He fills you up with his cum, protected by the pill you take each morning, and then, when the sun is rising and the beginnings of the day break through his drawn curtains, you lie on his chest, fingers drawing patterns on his skin, slick with sweat. You’re both sore, both spent, and both happy, most importantly. You know that within the hour you’ll have to start the walk back to your own home and it’ll be like nothing ever happened. Sarah will think her dad slept on your couch and you were in your rightful place, in bed next to Tommy, and that's how it will continue to be for another year, happy with the man you love, but safe in the knowledge that you still have this slice of heaven each year. The play will continue for another year – the doting uncle and niece, the happy family with their growing son, and you’ll be happy, because this is all you’ve ever needed.

“I love you.” Joel whispers, lips pressing a kiss to your forehead as he brushes the sweat slicked hair from your face, his eyes mapping every inch of you, claiming this scene as his own, committing it to memory so he has one thing he can think of, in the depths of his nights, when he feels the loneliest. To remind him that he’s not lonely at all, because even if he can only have you once a year, at least he can have you. He’s a simple man and he’s happy to take this one moment with you, until you decide you want more from him, if that’s ever the case.

“I love you too Joel.”

767 notes · View notes

serverusslaype · 7 months

Text

Shameless, pt. 13

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

OMG HEYYY!!!!!!! GUESS WHO'S BACK? IT'S ME!!

how are you all?? i hope you're all doing well. this has to be the fastest 12,000+ words i've ever written LMAOO. my god. this is the longest smut i've written yet. hopefully it's as good as i think it is... humble me <3 (i am kinda proud tho i won't lie eh)

so i listened to multiple different songs for this part lol. it ranged from j.cole, adele, noah kahan (I LOVE THIS GUY, please check out 'the view between villages extended version', it's my new obsession), rihanna, the weeknd, sam fender. like what. what a rollercoaster fam. ok, anyway, let me shut up!!

please enjoy this as much as i did writing it!! i'm so glad to be posting it finally - sorry it's like 2 hours after i said i would!! thank you so so much for reading and all your comments, likes & reblogs. i know i say this every time but i truly mean it. it means a lot to me. <3

warnings: smut, light choking, fluff, arguing, mention of adultery, MINORS DNI !

again, i've marked where the smut begins and ends with a big red *

VAMOS!!

Ben's fingers curled around his wand as his opposing hand reached up to pull his jacket over his head, protecting it from the rain that was starting to pour from above. He'd found himself outside your greenhouse, curiosity and perhaps a hint of suspicion twisting in his gut. After you'd mentioned that you were having a meeting with Professor Lupin after dinner, Ben knew this was the perfect opportunity. Ever since he saw you and Snape during your class, something just didn't sit right with him. He didn't like the way you were so friendly with that miserable git, nor the way he had his eyes glued to you like you were the only person in the room. Since when was Snape nice to people, especially Hufflepuffs like you? Surely, you'd be someone he despised. Everyone knew that Hufflepuffs weren't exactly the strongest, nor the most ambitious people.

So why did Snape seem to let you slide past his cold exterior?

Ben held his wand a few centimetres away from the lock on your greenhouse door and whispered, "Alohomora," and the satisfying click of the handle reached his ears, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

Before he slipped inside, he cast a cautious glance to the left and right, reassuring himself that he was alone, and not being watched. With a sharp inhale, he wrapped his wet hand around the handle and pulled it down, opening the door and creeping inside. The damp, yet mild air hit him rather hard. He forgot how muggy the greenhouses were. Ben grunted slightly as he slipped off his jacket and chucked it on the table in front of him; beady, inquisitive eyes darting across the room, searching.

It was quiet and dark, almost gloomy even. Only the patter of the rain against the glass roof rang out in the glass enclosure. Ben noticed a few vases of the bouquets he'd sent you were wilting on the windowsills, and the now-yellowing, sun-damaged notes were still attached to them. As his eyes flicked away from the flowers, he eyed your desk, standing idly as a tingling sensation suddenly tickled the tips of his fingers. He padded towards it, wand in hand, nosily reading the piles of parchment sat atop of it.

'Class A, First-Years, subject: Dittany', He lifted the next pile of parchment up, reading again. 'Class D, Fourth-Years, subject: Bouncing Bulb, Wormwood,' Ben huffed, and let the pile fall back down from his prying fingers, wandering around to your chair. On either side were two drawers, and this piqued his interest. Surely, there's something in there. And so, he pulled open one drawer, a defeated sigh falling through his nose as metal instruments amongst pens rattled in it. He slammed it shut, and opened the next one.

Notes...

Ben's brows furrowed deeply as he slowly dipped his fingers into the drawer, plucking a note from it.

'Y/N,

I have taken one handful of wormwood and a careful pinch of aconite.

S.S'

Ben drew a deep, slow breath as his eyes lingered on those two initials, sparking a burning fire of jealousy and anger within his chest. He flicked through more notes, his heart growing colder with every read.

'Y/N,

Potter thought it was fitting to forget his ingredients for today's class. I have regrettably had to take another handful of Billywig stings. He sends his most sincere apologies.

S.S'

His jaw clenched. Why was he leaving you notes?

'Y/N,

- One piece of cowbane

- Two stems of dandelion root

S.S'

As Ben reached the bottom, very familiar looking pieces of parchment laid there, stagnant. However, they were not in the same condition as Snape's were. In fact, they were slightly ripped, crumpled and there was a fingerprint ontop of it. Ben lifted it up from underneath the other notes, bringing it close to his eyes.

"Lumos," He muttered, aiming his wand at the parchment. That fingerprint was not yours. It was far too big. If it wasn't yours, whose the hell was it? Had someone else been snooping around your drawers as well?

Angrily, Ben shoved the notes back into your drawer, though he made sure they were in the same sequence as he had found them. He'd never felt so furious. Why were Snape's notes so well preserved, unlike his? Why were his ripped and shoved at the bottom? If anything, his should be at the top, you were dating him. Not Snape.

With this disturbing fact, Ben stormed out of your greenhouse, nearly forgetting his jacket in the fit of rage. He slammed your door shut, the windowpanes rattling from the force, almost shattering as he neglected to lock it, stalking back through the pouring rain to your quarters. He wasn't sure whether he was going to confront you about this, or just leave it be - maybe he'd just simmer on it, and make a decision later on.

The next morning had come agonisingly slow for you, but maybe it was because you laid awake for most of the night, tossing and turning, unable to find the sweet relief of sleep. Rays of blinding sunlight pierced through your window, gradually illuminating your room as it rose into the sky, painting the once-black-sky blue again. You rolled over to look at Ben who was sleeping peacefully, his dark brown hair strewn across his forehead, a few strands tickling his eyelids.

The thought of breaking it off with him slipped into your mind, and it was all too tempting. You knew he wasn't for you. He was becoming increasingly controlling, unbearably jealous and possessive. He was also arrogant - unrightfully so - perhaps if he was older, more experienced and lived up to his words, you'd let it slide. But he wasn't any of that.

You'd already vaguely planned how you were going to do it. On the day he leaves, you were going to take him to the pub in Hogsmeade, sit him down, and just break it to him gently, praying that he won't kick off. If he was the respectable young man you thought he was, he'd take it gracefully and leave, bidding you goodbye. However, just from how he'd acted with and towards you recently, unfortunately, you knew it wasn't going to be that easy. Would he even accept this? Would he fight back and make you stay with him?

With a quiet, frustrated huff, the bed creaked as you sat up, flipping the duvet covers off of your body. The cool, frigid air bit at your wiggling toes and instantly you just wanted to curl up back into your warm bed. Winter was definitely making itself known. You had to force yourself to get up, placing your bare feet on the freezing floor, dawdling over to your little kitchenette to brew yourself a hot cup of tea. Popping the kettle on, you reached a hand up to open a wooden cupboard that sat just above your eye-level, fetching a sage green ceramic mug and placing it lazily onto the countertop. The cold air began to make you shiver as you stood still, and so you quickly darted across the room to your sofa to fetch your green cardigan, throwing it on swiftly, a soft hum of satisfaction falling from your lips as you relished in the warm comfort of it.

Seconds later, groan sounded from behind you, indicating that Ben was stirring awake. So much for peace and quiet, you thought, scrunching your nose up. Throwing a glance to the right, you checked the clock and noticed it was almost seven o'clock, just two hours before classes began. You could probably nip down to your greenhouse earlier than usual and get ahead of marking some assignments, and selfishly, you could avoid talking to Ben and his prying questions. You'd feel bad about that, had he not treated you like a pet dog the other night.

Hot steam began to billow out from the spout as the kettle ticked, signifying it'd finished boiling. You quickly lifted it and poured the water into your mug, the satisfying sizzle of it piercing the silence in your room. Setting the kettle back down, you shuffled to the right to your small fridge and opened it, sticking your hand in to grab the bottle of milk, however, you found it empty.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself quietly, staring at the empty bottle unhappily, "no milk..." You glanced back at your steaming mug and sighed softly. Black tea it was... You weren't the biggest fan of milk-less tea, but desperate times call for desperate measures. You'd just have to bite the bullet and drink the bitter tasting beverage.

In the thirty minutes that had passed, you'd dressed yourself and unwillingly downed your bitter black tea, wincing and gagging as the foul taste swam in your mouth. And now, you were walking through the grounds of Hogwarts, on your way to your greenhouse, partly awake and ready for another day. The hem of your dress was slightly muddied as you walked across the patches of sloppy mud and wet grass, the heavy rain from the night before turning it into something like a used rugby field. You had almost slipped over more than once and your heart had shot into your throat as you threw your arms up to steady yourself, thanking Merlin that you didn't go crashing down; dirtying and ruining your dress.

As you began to near your greenhouse, you noticed that the door wasn't fully shut, nor locked, like you'd left it when you left late yesterday afternoon. A cold shiver ran down your spine and your heart pumped nervously in your chest. Had someone been in here? Or did you think you had locked it? Maybe you did forget to lock it up, you weren't the most heedful at times.

You walked toward it slowly, peering through the windows to check that it was empty, and there wasn't some psycho killer waiting to slaughter you inside.

Quickly fishing your wand from your pocket, you muttered, "Homenum revelio." Nothing happened, and so you felt at ease again, sighing softly. Ben's constant chatter about Black still lingering at Hogwarts had really messed with your mind. You should know better than to doubt Dumbledore - but when all you hear is 'Black's still here,' amongst other ridiculous things, it starts to slowly twist your thoughts.

Without another wasted second, you strode forwards and opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind you with a soft click. As you cast your eyes over your classroom, nothing was amess, and nothing seemed to have been tampered with, so you just assumed you'd forgotten to properly lock up yesterday. You needed to be a little more careful, aside from other dangers, you didn't want any students entering your greenhouse when you weren't around - God knows what they'd do.

Inhaling deeply, you stepped towards your desk and took a seat in your chair, reaching forwards to pull a pile of first-year assignments towards you and your quill that sat to the far right of them. You began to read through the first one, twiddling your quill between your fingers absent-mindedly.

'Dittany and Its Uses

Dittany is a powerful, magical herb that is dark green in colour, and is easily identifiable through its small, circular leaves. Another name for dittany is 'Burning Bush'. Dittany can be used in many areas, including wand cores, healing magic, and most importantly potion-making. It's most famous for being able to make fresh skin grow over wounds, making them seem more than several days old. Another fascinating fact about this herb is that it can also cure werewolf bites, but it cannot cure lycanthropy.'

You were thoroughly impressed with this student, considering they were only in their first year. They seemed to definitely have a flair for Herbology. Your eyes flicked curiously to the top corner of the parchment, reading 'Tristan Thomas'. Of course, that boy had been more than knowledgable in your class yesterday when you were asking about the healing herb. You scribbled some positive notes at the bottom of the essay, not needing to finish it as you were more than sure it was up to your standards. Lifting the parchment, you set it down to the right of you, and began reading the next one.

'Dittaney

Dittaney is a healing herb, also known as 'Burning Bush'. It's green and has round leaves, which is used to identify it. It's most commonly used in potion-making to make the Weggenwild potion, but can be used in other areas too.'

You winced slightly at the spelling errors and lack of description and depth, but you gave the student the benefit of the doubt, considering they were only in their first year. Perhaps they just needed some guidance... You glanced to the corner again, and took note of the name, 'Jayson Blackbell', making a mental note to focus a little more on this student. You wanted all of them to excel and succeed in your classes, whether they enjoyed Herbology or not. With a soft sigh, you placed your quill on the parchment and corrected the spelling mistakes, whilst also writing some encouraging notes on the bottom, avoiding the idea of scolding him. You weren't the type of teacher to reprimand first-years for simple mistakes, you knew how it felt to be ridiculed for misspelling something or even mistaking another item for something else.

"I never took you for an early bird, Miss L/N."

"Jesus!" You jumped, dropping your quill and watching it splatter ink over the bottom half of Blackbell's essay. "Severus!" As you picked it up, a frustrated grumble fell from your mouth. You glanced up sourly at his amused face, the corner of his lips quirking upwards wickedly. His hands were tucked behind his back as he stood still in front of your desk, that infamous black cloak falling around him.

"Still as skittish as ever," He mused, slipping his wand from his sleeve and flicking it gently at the mess on your desk to clean it up. "I thought you would have grown to be a little more aware of your surroundings." Severus added, his voice silky and smooth as he gazed down at your frowning face.

"I am, I just don't expect visitors at this time of the morning..." You sighed, a little vexed, avoiding his eyes. Severus's brows furrowed at your unusual flat tone. You hadn't been this irritable with him since before the two of you had kissed.

"Something on your mind, professor?" Severus asked lowly, almost cautiously as he looked away from you, glancing around your classroom. Everything seemed normal to him, so it was puzzling to him as to why you were so short with him.

"I'm fine," you huffed a little more dramatically than you wanted, "I'm just tired. I didn't sleep well last night. To be honest, I don't think I slept at all." You let your quill drop from your fingers as you sighed deeply, burying your exhausted face in your hands. Severus's eyes twitched as he observed you.

"Perhaps you needed a release." The Potions Master said jokingly, making your cheeks burn. You peeked up at him through your fingers and watched as he smirked, black eyes twinkling mischievously, clearly satisfied with making you blush so easily. "Or, need." He corrected himself, noticing how tense you were.

"Aren't you funny?" You hummed, a faint hint of sarcasm dripping from your words as you removed your hands from your face, cheeks still red. Severus cocked a brow at your attitude. "You know, I was thinking about paying you a visit last night after my meeting with Lupin."

Severus would have been pleased with your words had you not mentioned a meeting with Lupin. "Your meeting with Lupin?" He asked, his black eyes narrowing confusedly.

"Yes," you said, "I'd asked him to teach me how to conjure a patronus." Severus's whole body had stiffened uncomfortably at the mention of Lupin. He wasn't entirely happy that you were in a room alone with him. Severus knew the dangerous secrets that burdened that man.

"A patronus," Severus repeated, his fingers twitching behind his back as he stared at you, "and were you successful?"

"Yes, I was, actually. I might even ask for some more lessons." You smiled up at Severus, his muscles relaxing a tad at the sight of your happy face.

"No. I can teach you." Severus said plainly, rolling his shoulders back. You returned his arched brow, gazing at him curiously.

"You? You think you're as good as Lupin at teaching such spells?" You teased him with a cheeky smile, feeling a little brave today. His eyes narrowed slightly at your doubt.

"No," Severus hummed, and a brief silence ensued for several seconds. "I'm better." He said, a tiny smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, and you giggled slightly, unsure whether to take him seriously or not. Of course, you knew Severus was a very talented wizard, but he was the Potions Master, not the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"But Lupin is the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, you aren't." You frowned, a little tempted to playfully mess with him. His face soured slightly at your words - clearly this was going the way you wanted it to.

"Miss L/N," Severus stepped forwards, his legs pressing against your desk as he leaned down and rested his palms atop of it, staring at you with a wicked look strewn across his features. Your breath hitched as his eyes raked over your pinkening face. "Dark Arts teacher or not, I am far more qualified than Lupin could ever dream of being." He muttered, his mouth curling upwards as he watched you squirm. The power in the conversation suddenly changed to him.

You swallowed, shuffling in your seat as your eyes flicked between his glittering black ones, far too tempted to drop down towards his lips. "Is that so?" You whispered, poking the tip of your tongue out to wet your lips.

"More than so, Miss L/N." Severus whispered back, his hot breath tickling your red face, silently begging you to close the gap and kiss him. And you would, had you not been in an open, windowed room - an easy victim to unwanted, prying eyes. Merlin, the way he said your name really, really made you want to forget where you were.

Severus leaned back, leaving you wanting more as a gentle breath fell from your parted lips. He cleared his throat as he stared down at you, shoving his large, pale hands into his black pockets. "So," Severus drawled, "This evening after dinner?" He suggested, blinking slowly as he looked at you.

"Sounds good to me," you whispered, still stuck on how close the two of you had been seconds earlier, "this evening after dinner." You agreed, swallowing thickly once more in a futile attempt to clear the highly inappropriate thoughts that were currently clouding your mind.

Severus smiled at you with his eyes, nodding. His head stayed still but his eyes glanced around for a moment, as if checking to see if anyone else was around. Your brows furrowed in confusion, though, they soon shot up your face as he reached out a cold hand to softly grasp your chin, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath hitched at his risqué act and your cheeks turned an even deeper shade of scarlet.

"Don't be late." Severus said sternly, letting your lip slip back from the pad of his thumb as he released your chin. He turned away and swept out of your greenhouse with a swoosh of his black cloak, leaving you a blushing mess.

"Bastard." You muttered to yourself as your heart pounded in your ears, picking your quill back up with shaking hands and returning to your task of grading assignments. Now, you just couldn't wait for the clock to strike eight o'clock.

The day dragged agonisingly slow, just as the past night had, and now you were in the endgame of your last class of the day. A class of mischievous third-years. Despite this class that you struggled to teach, you were quite thankful that Ben hadn't disturbed you much today, only popping in now and again to observe nosily. You could only do with so much stress.

"Mr Goyle, don't put your fingers into the mouths of the Mandrake seedlings!" You cried out as you watched him poke at the sentient plant, a growing ball of frustration building in your chest. This class was usually so well behaved, why were they choosing to act up today?

"Professor, why are we learning about Mandrakes again? We learnt about this last year." Ron Weasley asked curiously as he scrunched his nose up at you, looking awfully concerned.

"It's part of the school curriculum, I'm afraid, Mr Weasley," you replied, sighing, "aside from that, it's good to refresh the memory. I'm sure you can't remember how to tell when a Mandrake is mature?" You asked, cocking a brow expectantly. Ron stumbled for a moment, struggling to find the words.

"Erm... I suppose not, professor." Ron nervously chewed on his bottom lip, much to the amusement of his grinning friend, Harry Potter.

"Hence why we are revisiting this topic." You smiled at the ginger-haired boy, and then cast a glance at Harry. "And Mr Potter," you said, watching as the grin fell from his face, "since you find this so hilarious, can you tell me the signs of a maturing Mandrake?"

"No, ma'am." Potter said, pursing his lips. "But I do know that they're irritatingly loud and whiny," he smiled proudly, pausing for a moment to lower his voice, "just like some students here at Hogwarts." Beside him, Weasley snorted rather loudly, catching the attention of the Slytherin students Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione Granger rolled her eyes at the pair as she scribbled down some notes, keeping her nose out of the drama.

"Somethin' funny, Weasley?" Malfoy spat, his blue eyes shining maliciously as his two friends, Crabbe and Goyle, stood beside him with matching glares. You weren't exactly surprised at his venomous tone, you knew the blonde-haired boy was rather rude to anyone and everyone.

"No," Ron said, looking at Draco with narrowed eyes, "just your bloody awful personality, to be honest." Weasley and Potter grinned amusedly at each other as Malfoy almost exploded with anger.

"Why, you little-!" Draco began to stomp orwards with a menacing sneer, looking to potentially harm Weasley. That's when you decided to step in.

"Alright, that's enough, boys!" You held out a hand, raising your voice. The entire class looked up in shock at your sudden outburst. Never have you had to raise your voice in their classes - you weren't known for such things. "You're both lucky that I don't take points from your respective Houses. Now, please, get back to your studies."

The two boys apologised quietly, and you sighed softly, grateful that you were able to diffuse a potentially hostile situation. What had gotten into them? They weren't usually so wound up.

Soon, the bell rang and you'd never felt more relieved. "Since we only revised a topic today, I want a full parchment's worth of notes about Mandrakes, please." The class groaned at your words, and you gave them a disappointed look. "Would you like me to assign you a five page essay on Mandrakes instead?" You asked, receiving a chorus of desperate 'no's. "Notes it is, then." You smiled, watching as they all filed out of your greenhouse.

You hoped you wouldn't have to endure such a frustrating class ever again, though, life was never that fair.

"Ben?" You called out, stepping out of your bathroom in a dressing gown. You'd just showered, freshening yourself up after a rather mentally draining day at work. The second that hot water hit your body, it was like all the stress, tension and troubles melted off of you.

"Yeah?" Ben replied from your sofa, a novel in his hands. You scrunched your nose up as your eyes flicked to him, noticing that he had his shoes up on the couch.

"Just to let you know, I have a meeting after dinner tonight." You said, drying your hair with a spare towel you'd taken from your airing cupboard.

"Another meeting?" Ben sighed and you could hear him roll his eyes at you. "With who?" He asked nosily, letting his hands fall into his lap.

You held back a groan, already knowing what was to come. "Snape."

"Snape?" Ben spat, evidently very unhappy with your answer. This time, you allowed that groan to slip out. "What happened to Lupin?"

"Snape thought he'd be the better teacher." You replied, keeping your tone flat as you flicked your hair back, running a hand through the wet strands.

"That twat is far from a good teacher." Ben mumbled, and you spun on your heel a little harshly.

"You might not like him, but he's still my colleague, Ben, it'd be nice if you could respect Severus for once." You said rather sternly, narrowing your eyes into a glare. Ben scoffed at your behaviour, growing a little irritated that you were speaking back to him.

"Severus? Don't use his first name, Y/N." Ben almost gagged, and this only infuriated you more.

An exasperated sigh left your lips as you scoffed, "Jesus, Ben, you're such a child!" You turned away from him, groaning and running a stressed hand through your wet hair. That reminded you - you needed to dry it properly. Padding over to your wardrobe to choose an outfit for dinner, you pulled out your wand and cast a quick spell to do so.

"I don't like that tone," Ben said, standing up from the couch, "you need to dial it back, Y/N."

"Excuse me?" You laughed in disbelief, twisting your head to look at him. "If you don't like it, Ben, leave! I won't have you disrespecting my colleagues like that. You don't hear me talking shit about your work mates, do you?"

"That's because you haven't met them." Ben rolled his eyes. You grit your teeth. "Besides, I've known Snape just as long as you have, so my opinion is valid."

"You can have your opinion about him, Ben, just don't express it in front of me."

"Why are you suddenly so pro-Snape?" Ben questioned, folding his arms against his chest, staring at you confusedly. "The amount of times we used to make fun of him when we came here as students - I mean he practically hated you, Y/N. You were always burning or destroying his stuff."

"It's different when you're both adults."

"Right." Ben snorted, though it wasn't out of amusement.

"Perhaps when you turn into one, you'll be able to see what I mean." You snapped, tired of his petty attitude.

"I don't want you seeing him." Ben stated matter-of-factly.

"Ben," You sighed, your voice becoming low, almost like a warning. "You can tell me to wear a dress you bought, sure, whatever, but you do not get to tell me who I can and cannot see. This is not going to work if you do that, so if you want a woman you can push around and control, go and look elsewhere, because I'm not her."

Another scoff left Ben, "Are you sure? Because you seemed pretty eager to please Snape the other day when he came asking for some silly ingredient one of his poor students forgot."

"You're joking, right?" You said slowly and narrowed your eyes, unsure whether he was making some crappy joke or if he was actually serious. "What, am I supposed to just ignore him when he asks for something work-related?"

"...No, but..." Ben clenched his jaw, staring at you with a stiff body, clearly unhappy and unable to support his silly accusation with evidence.

"But nothing," You said quietly, turning back to your wardrobe, a pretty green dress catching your eye. Reaching out, you palmed it softly, the smooth, silky material gliding through your fingers like butter. "I'm not going to stop seeing someone because you don't like them, especially when they're a colleague... I see them every single day of my life." Another tired sigh fell from your mouth as you turned your back to Ben, taking your dressing gown off in front of him to slip on the green dress. You weren't exactly bothered about Ben seeing you in your underwear - you did sleep together during the first month that you started dating, and it'd be a little strange if you told him not to look.

As you were slipping on the dress, Ben spoke again, though he sounded a little further away than before, so you assumed he'd sat back down on the sofa. "Fine," he muttered, "if it means I get to be with you, then so be it."

Those last words stung a little as your mind reeled back to when you'd first kissed Severus, let alone first slept with him. In his classroom, for goodness sake. Perhaps you should have waited a little while longer before crossing that line with Severus to end things with Ben so this didn't become so goddamn messy. You really didn't want this to get out, and you really didn't want your reputation to be ruined. Were you wrong for following your heart that night? Yes... and no. Were you wrong for sleeping with someone else whilst supposedly being with Ben? ...Yes. You didn't regret anything with Severus, at all, it was mainly just the guilt that came with it. It was all building up, and almost becoming too much at some points.

"I'll see you later on, okay?" You said, walking towards Ben with a sigh, and he quickly got up and cupped your face, placing a rather harsh, heavy and unflattering kiss upon your lips. Stunned at his bold act, you squeaked slightly, planting your hands on his chest and pushing against him lightly. Your eyes stayed open, shocked.

As he pulled away, his hands fell from your surprised face to hold your hands. "I look forward to seeing you later." A wry smile graced Ben's mouth.

You didn't exactly know how to navigate this situation. So you nodded, pursing your lips and forcing a smile. "Me too." You choked out the lie, the only thing on your mind being a very gloomy, brooding Potions Master.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have said that." Ben suddenly said, again, taking you by surprise. What the fuck was happening right now?

"Erm, it's alright, I'm just glad we have an... understanding." You replied, attempting to hide your confused frown at his sudden change of heart.

See, had Ben not snooped through your greenhouse, he probably would have chosen to leave tonight. But, alas, he had found something intriguing, almost heart-wrenching, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. The man was going to confront you about the notes, and you were going to tell him the truth. He just wasn't sure when.

There you stood, waiting outside of Severus's office, a little nervous. He hadn't attended dinner this evening, and you weren't sure why, but you weren't going to poke him about it. He needn't explain himself - perhaps he just wasn't hungry. Wait, what if he was? Was he just too busy to come and eat? Shit, should you have brought him a plate?

Just as you were about to become lost in your dominoing thoughts, his door opened by itself, revealing the Potions Master himself sat behind his desk, scribbling away with his quill.

"Punctual as always, Miss L/N." Severus drawled, setting his quill down as he glanced up at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You scrunched your nose up at his words.

"Was that sarcasm? Because if it was, I haven't been late, ever." You quipped, walking into his office and shutting the door behind you with a smile. You wandered over to his desk and perched yourself on the corner of it, facing him.

Severus hummed as he gazed up at you. "It seems you're forgetting about a certain detention with me, many years ago." He quirked a brow, making you glance away, your cheeks pinkening in embarrassment. Oh, yeah, you forgot about that. "I remember it well, you brewed a potion so detrimentally wrong that it burnt through the cauldron itself and ruined one of my desks."

"Um, whoops." You blushed, smiling awkwardly. Severus couldn't fight the amused smile that teased his lips.

He took a deep sigh before continuing, "Then, you thought it wise to be impeccably late to my detention. How clever of you." He muttered, feigning a disappointed tone that rattled your bones. Even though the two of you were work colleagues now, that tone still scared you. It will probably be something that haunts you to your grave.

You cleared your throat, sheepishly glancing at his twinkling black eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm sure I had something important to tend to beforehand..."

"Such as...?" He encouraged, tilting his head at you.

"I can't remember, it was years ago!"

"Perhaps you were too busy daydreaming about that Herbology hobby of yours."

"Hobby?" You repeated, narrowing your eyes. "Don't push me, Severus, who knows what I might do." A quiet laugh slipped through your smiling lips as you crossed your legs, watching as his eyes faltered for a moment as you readjusted your position on the corner of his desk. You gently nudged his knee with the tip of your foot.

Severus leant back in his chair, shutting his eyes momentarily as he lifted a finger to massage his temples. "Ah yes, what would you, our beloved Herbology professor, do to me, a far more accomplished wizard?" He mused, teasing you.

"Wow, you sounded a lot like Lockhart there for a second. Almost had me fooled." You said sarcastically, referring to when Gilderoy had misjudged you during the Duelling Club. An amused chuckle rumbled in Severus's chest, and it made a comforting warmth bloom within yours. You couldn't help but smile at him.

"I think we're getting a little sidetracked," Severus said as he stood up, his black hair bouncing. "You're here for lessons, no?" You looked up at him, blinking.

"Yes..." You hummed, a little disappointed that he cut your conversation short. You were beginning to enjoy it. "Alright then, teach me how to conjure a patronus." Standing up from his desk, you folded your arms against your chest and shuffled to the right, so you were opposite him.

"Close your eyes," Severus said softly, his deep voice never failing to make your skin prickle with goosebumps. You did as he said and shut your eyes, concentrating. "Clear your mind. Envision your happiest memory." He added, and suddenly, his silky voice seemed nearer than it was before.

And you were right, because the next thing you knew, Severus had pressed a gentle, soft kiss on your lips; his larger, aquiline nose nudging the side of yours sweetly. Instantly, you melted, your head instinctively leaning towards his to kiss him back. As he pulled away, a brief, disappointed quiet whine escaped you, and your eyes fluttered open. Severus stood in front of you with a small smile painted across his pale, worn features as he tucked his hands behind his back, his arms disappearing underneath the shadows of his black cloak.

"What was that for?" You asked softly, a bashful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you stared up at him with rosy cheeks.

Severus's smile widened a tad, "I'd forgotten what your lips felt like against mine." He said, inducing a rather adorable giggle from you. His heart swelled twice the size at the heavenly sound, and he found himself unable to take his eyes off of your sweet face.

"Well, it was worth the wait," you replied quietly, grinning, "am I going to have to wait another forty-eight hours for more?"

Severus chuckled as his glittering black eyes watched you, "Perhaps," he muttered, "it depends if you can successfully produce a patronus under my instruction."

"Oh, so your kisses are a reward now?" You laughed, observing the way his lips twitched upwards again cheekily. It warmed your heart to see such a mischievous side of the man who was known to be harsh and cruel, perhaps even heartless to some. However, you had been lucky enough to witness who he truly was.

"Of course not." Severus tilted his head, still watching you. "I prefer the word encouragement." He said, earning an incredulous look from you.

"That's basically the same thing." You feigned a playful glare at him, scoffing.

"No." Severus said, cocking a brow.

"Yes it is," You stepped forwards and your heart skipped a beat as his eyes dropped to your smiling lips for a split second. "Well, to be completely honest, it's bribery."

"And does 'bribery' have the same meaning as 'reward'?" Severus asked, his eyes glinting with a smug flicker.

"No, but-"

"So then I am right." He smirked, evidently proud about proving you wrong as he watched you simmer in your frustration. Your arms folded against your chest again annoyedly.

You turned your head away from him and huffed, "Shut up." Your voice was quiet, but loud enough for Severus to hear as another heart-warming chuckle left his chest. You fought hard against the smile that tickled your lips, but your effort was in vain. There was no chance at hiding it, especially when Severus was the one that provoked it.

"You should respect your superiors." He teased, making your head snap towards his.

"Superiors?" You repeated incredulously, laughing, "Please, more like elders."

"Are you calling me old?" Severus questioned, his eyes narrowing at you in disdain. A year ago, you might have crumbled underneath such a cold, sharp gaze, but now, all you felt was the complete opposite.

"Does 'elders' mean young?" You quipped, stealing his words from earlier

"A little feisty today, Miss L/N." Severus mused, his shoulders rising and falling as he sighed, though you couldn't tell whether it was from exasperation or something else.

"I prefer the word, banterous." You mocked him, copy-catting his deep, languid voice. Severus scowled at you, quite obviously unamused at your poor attempt at mimicking him.

Severus hummed, pausing for a few seconds as he glared at you. "Should you ever lose your flair for Herbology, do the world a favour and avoid pursuing the career of an impressionist." He said with a roll of his eyes, but the grin that broke out on your face had softened his harsh gaze slightly. Clearly, he couldn't stay mad at you for very long. Gods, what had happened to him? For so long, nobody had made him feel the way you did. It was terrifying, but so exciting at the same time. As much as he wanted to push you away, just to avoid the impending heartbreak, Severus felt as if he shouldn't. There was something more to you.

"Alright, well, will you be able to avoid the undeniable temptation of kissing me, and teach me how to cast this spell?" You joked as another soft giggle left your mouth, setting Severus's heart on fire.

"I will try my best." He said as a little smile graced his lips. "Close your eyes again." Severus muttered, and so you did, awaiting his next instructions. "Think of your happiest memory, and keep it within your mind," He said from in front of you, his eyes flicking over your peaceful face. "Got it?"

"Yes," you replied, thinking about the same tender memory that you did with Lupin, "I do."

"Now, with that in your mind, you need to speak the incantation, 'Expecto Patronum'." Severus said, his voice faltering a tad at the end.

Instead of following his instructions, you whispered, "Is the temptation still there?"

There was a pause before he spoke again and anxious goosebumps littered your skin.

Severus sighed deeply before replying. "I'm afraid so." He muttered defeatedly.

Instantly, your eyes fluttered open as quick as a flash, a beaming smile spreading across your pink cheeks. You almost leapt from where you had stood, throwing your arms around his neck and crashing your lips against his. A muffled gasp fell from Severus as he crumbled like a poorly built sandcastle under your touch; your fingers latching onto the nape of his neck and tugging him desperately close to you. His body felt like it was on fire as you clashed together, and within seconds Severus had his arms around you. His hands clutched at your waist hungrily, as if he had been forbidden to touch you - which was partly true, in way.

Despite the clear show of desperation between you two, there was love sprinkled within it. Severus's hands held you so tenderly and dear, his fingers squeezing your clothed flesh with such gentle care that you could almost feel the love radiating from his body. Both of you knew it, but both of you refused to acknowledge it. Maybe it was the fear of recognising something so significant and monumentous happening between the two of you, or maybe it was just pure ignorance. As of right now, neither of you wanted to think about it. You could deal with it a little later.

As he kissed you, he plucked a breathless "Sev," from you, and he held you a little tighter, fearful that you might just disintigrate in front of him and he would suddenly wake up alone in his cold bed. Your chests were heaving now, and you couldn't stop yourselves from becoming lost in one another's addicting touch; the feeling too strong and intoxicating like an expensive elven wine.

"I missed you," You whispered between kisses, your hands sliding from the comfort of his neck to the smooth yet cold surface of his cheeks, embracing him. "Gods, I missed you, Severus." Slowly, he pulled away as his nose suddenly felt wet. He opened his eyes to look at you, and his face fell as he noticed tears streaming down your cheeks, wetting your perfect eyelashes. His chest twisted at the sight - did he do this? Did he make you cry? Did he hold you too tight?

Your eyebrows twisted upwards as his finger caught your chin, tilting it up, but you avoided his eyes. "Why are you crying, my love?" Severus asked softly, careful to keep his voice gentle. The pet name had rolled so easily and casually off of his tongue that he almost didn't notice it. In fact, it seemed like you didn't either. He wasn't sure whether he was relieved, or a little hurt by it.

"It's not you," you sobbed quietly, sucking in a pathetic strangled breath, "well- it is, but it's not your fault, or anything- I just..." Another cry left you, and it was starting to upset Severus. "I wish we weren't in this whole... predicament." He had only seen you cry a couple times, and after that he'd hoped that he'd never have to witness such a heartwrenching thing again.

"We don't have to be." Severus murmured, lifting a hand to wipe away your tears with a tender thumb.

"I don't want him to hurt you." You sniffled, still refusing to look in his eyes, afraid of what you might see.

"He won't." Severus replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Promise me." You inhaled shakily and finally looked up at him, an ache in your heart as you saw his sad face. Your hands were still attached to his cheeks, and so you brushed your thumbs against them; a pleasant, homely warmth blossoming in your chest like a newly-bloomed flower in the spring.

Severus let out an amused huff as he smiled at your sweet gesture. "I promise. He won't hurt me, Y/N."

"Okay." You whispered, feeling a little more at ease as Severus's hands fell back to your waist, tugging you closer to him once more, a comfortable silence enveloping the two of you as you held each other. Severus's eyes flicked between your glossy ones, pausing to ponder over his words for a moment.

"I never thought someone as beautiful as you would care so much for someone like me." He murmured, lifting a hand from the comfort of your waist to brush a few stray strands of hair out of your face and behind your ear.

"Someone like you?" You giggled softly, earning a disbelieving look from Severus. You knew exactly what he meant, however, that was irrelevant to you now. The man he hid himself as, was not the man you had come to know. "What, because you act so cold and awful sometimes?"

"Perhaps," he mused, "but I'm not a good man, Y/N." Severus added, tracing the line of your jaw with the pad of his index finger sweetly.

"No, you're a brilliant one," You beamed, gradually leaning in towards his face to nudge your nose against his. His breath hitched slightly at your gesture, his heavy-lidded eyes watching you carefully, wondering your next thoughts. "Despite how we may have started out, you're one of the most brilliant men I have come to know." Your words made his cheeks flush a stunning shade of scarlet, and in turn, it also made yours do the same. He glanced away for a moment, flustered.

As he composed himself, he returned his dilating eyes back to yours. "Yes," Severus sighed, feigning disappointment, "despite my best efforts to push you away, you still somehow persevered."

"Unlikely for a weak little Hufflepuff." You joked, a tiny, bashful smile slipping onto your blushing face as you glanced down at his white collar, tracing it with your fingers. Severus took a moment to silently admire your beautiful face, the corners of his lips twitching as his eyes glazed over your soft features, his heart skipping a beat as the tips of your fingers tickled the skin on his neck.

He cleared his throat, murmuring, "You're far from weak. In fact, you might just be the strongest Hufflepuff I know."

"Is that because I'm the only one you've known?" You teased, laughing softly as you glanced back up to his sparkling eyes.

"Let's not ruin the moment." Severus quirked a brow at you, returning your teasing tone. You scrunched your nose up at him mockingly. "You still haven't matured yet, I see."

"Oh, shut up." You whispered, leaning up to hush him with your lips, kissing him with a smiling mouth. Severus's hand held your cheek as he pulled your face closer to him, his prominent nose poking it. Your hands rose from the collar of his black frock and settled happily around his neck again, fingers tickling the nape of it. A few goosebumps arose on his bared skin and he shivered, a breathy groan bubbling in the back of his throat. Severus's hands grew a little more hungry as you moaned into his kisses, grabbing you and gently guiding you to the surface of his desk.

With his lips still latched onto yours moving sinfully slow, he reached out an arm and brushed off the remaining things on top of the desk. He then glided his hands down your waist, towards your hips and finally underneath your bum, palming it greedily for a moment and encouraging a whimper from you. Severus felt his cock twitch in his tightening trousers at the sweet sounds falling from your swollen mouth, and so he swiftly lifted you up with no effort at all, his hands still full of your ass. Even though this was the third time he'd lifted you up like this, you were still impressed.

For a moment, he held you there as you wrapped your legs around his hips, securing yourself. Another throaty groan left his mouth as you rocked your body against his in a painfully slow manner, and Severus quickly laid you down atop of his desk, pulling away from your lips for a moment to stare down at you.

"I forgot to mention," Severus murmured, pressing a cheeky kiss against your jaw, trailing dangerously close to your neck. "That green dress suits you beautifully." He smirked against your hot skin, and you couldn't help but laugh. The raven-haired wizard felt the vibrations from your beautiful laugh through your throat as he licked it with his warm tongue, pressing soft kisses against your burning hot flesh.

"You're so painfully biased, Severus," you giggled, hands burying themselves within his thick, black hair, "you have no shame at all." You added, gasping as his teeth grazed your lower neck, nipping you.

"Slytherin is the superior House, after all, Miss L/N." Severus said lowly as he ravished your neck with his wet mouth, plucking more breathy gasps and moans from your quivering one.

"Is that why Gryffindor is kicking their arse?" You panted, your heart doubling in speed as he began to near the top of your breasts. He trailed a hand up from your hips, and your chest heaved, your breaths becoming stuck in your throat as he brushed his thumb against the curve of your clothed breasts, drawing a whine from your parted mouth.

"And yet, Hufflepuff is nowhere to be seen." He quipped. Not that you could speak a cocky reply right now - his adept mouth and hands were doing a very good job at incapacitating your mind - you had set yourself up for that burn.

Severus teethed the neckline of your green dress, the rich, sleek material hiding the supple skin of your breasts that he so badly wanted to see. Instead of pulling it down or to the side, he continued downwards, his hands following him, gripping your waist as he pressed heavy kisses against your clothed stomach, stopping just below your navel. Your nails scraped at his scalp as his fingers dropped to the hem of your dress, slipping it up over your silky legs, stopping just above your knees. Severus glanced up at you, as if asking for permission to continue. As much as you'd rather him do whatever he wanted to you without asking, you truly appreciated the care and concern he took with you.

You leant up slightly to look at him as a hand of yours fell from the confines of his locks to his cheek and you cupped it softly, smiling and giving him a slight nod. Half of his mouth perked up into a faint smirk as he dipped his head back down, pressing his lips to the inner side of your knees, slowly working his way up your legs with hot, wet lips, kneading his cold fingers against the soft flesh of yours that he adored. A rush of heat pooled in your stomach as Severus neared your burning core, anxiously awaiting his mouth to press against it. You slowly fell back against the surface of his desk again, digging your fingers inside the mess of his hair, gripping it tighter with every inch he closed in on you.

The Potions Master hooked a finger underneath the string of your black panties, twisting it around his digit, tugging at it teasingly. As you were laid back, your eyes were seeing stars as a warm, wet sensation was suddenly braced against your clothed mound; the pointed tip of it tickling your clit that sat between your soaking folds. You whimpered as Severus licked at your panties again, this time a little heavier, the intoxicating taste of you lingering on his tongue. Your grip in his hair tightened even more as he continued this sinful rhythm, your hips bucking upwards rather erratically as Severus caught your sensitive bud here and there. With a growl-like groan, he grazed his tongue to the side of your panties, slipping it underneath the thin, lacy material, an uncontrollable moan falling from your lips at the sudden tongue-to-flesh contact.

"Shit-," you whined, hips bucking once more, "my God, Severus." Your words were nothing but breathy and broken as he continued licking at your perfect core, his heart racing as you further became unravelled beneath his gifted mouth. "Please, please," You begged as you felt yourself nearing your breaking point, your legs squeezing around his head.

Severus groaned at your thighs sandwiching his head, and he placed his right hand on your outer upper thigh, squeezing it. "That's a good girl." He mumbled against your dripping centre, your arousal covering his lower face. You cried out at his words, the praise you so desperately desired from him almost sending you toppling over the edge by itself. Severus retrieved his other hand from your thigh and brought it to his mouth, wetting his fingers with his tongue before slipping two inside of you and curling them, pulling a rather loud, delicious sounding moan from your throat.

"Fuck!" You cried out as your body trembled, that familiar coil within you tightening again. "Sev, so close, I-" Severus could just about make out what you had said through your whimpers, and so he continued the pace of his fingers and tongue, though speeding up a little bit as your body began to rock against his mouth, evidently nearing your climax.

And within seconds, all of your breath had suddenly been stolen, and you were shuddering beneath Severus once more as your mouth gaped open, your back arching. "Fuck, Sev-!" Your brows shot upwards as you cried out, your eyes squeezing tightly shut as you rode out the tsunami waves of pleasure that rocked through you; a unruly and wild string of moans and whimpers slipping out of your mouth as Severus proceeded to continue fingering and licking against your twitching pussy.

Reluctantly, he removed his mouth from you, but not before peppering a few chaste kisses against the soft skin on your wet inner thigh. "I will never grow bored of those sounds leaving your pretty lips." Severus purred with a smirk, standing up from between your legs, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he looked at you, red faced, sweaty and breathless. He was rather proud of how effortlessly he had you crying out his name, and you obviously noticed, beginning to giggle. You were a little embarrassed at how easily he had made you cum, and so you hid your face behind your hands, peeking at him between your fingers. "Don't hide from me," he murmured, leaning down to pry your hands from your face with a smile, "there's no reason to hide such a beautiful face."

"Stop it." You whispered, giggling still, your eyes finding his softened ones as you allowed him to move your hands away from your face.

"Stop what?" Severus asked gently, frowning as he held your hand in his larger one; thumb brushing against your knuckles tenderly. Gods, you couldn't believe how well he'd hid this soft side of himself, and you were going to be more than careful not to make him conceal it again.

"Lying." You replied, another rush of heat flying to your cheeks as your eyes glanced down at your interlaced hands. Severus's black brow quirked upwards at your response, as if in disagreement.

"I'm many things, my dear Y/N, but a liar is not one of them." He tutted, lifting your hand to his lips to press a sweet kiss to the back of it. His words seemed familiar to you, but you couldn't put your finger on it at the moment; your mind too hazy from the previous steamy interaction between the two of you. "If only you could see yourself through my eyes." Severus added with a whisper against the smooth skin of your hand.

"Isn't that what I said to you?" You giggled, remembering how he'd replied rather bitterly a few nights ago. "You said something about me wearing 'rose-coloured glasses' or something." Mid-sentence, you deepened your voice to mock him again, and that same scowl returned to his features.

"You're awful at that." Severus grumbled, looking away from you as he leant back up. Letting go of your hand, he placed it on your hip and slowly slipped his fingers underneath the silky fabric, palming your bare skin; goosebumps erupting all over your body from his stone-cold yet sizzling touch. Your breath hitched once more as his fingertips neared the string of your black underwear, sliding underneath it.

"Severus," You warned, your voice low. Inside your panting chest, your heart was like a jackhammer against your ribcage as he tugged the string down over your hipbone, testing you. This was like a game to him it seemed, perhaps you should play along?

"Hmm?" He hummed in reply, his blown, black eyes flicking between where his hand laid and your reddening face. Gods, this man was pushing your limits today. "What is it? Use your words, Miss L/N..."

Your heart fluttered at his raspy voice.

"I'm not sure this counts as teaching me how-," You gasped lightly as his cool fingertips grazed against the curve of your ass. Severus's eyes instantly flicked upwards to meet your fluttering ones, smirking. "-How to cast a patronus." You finished quietly, swallowing as you tilted your head at him with your best poker face, trying desperately to act as if the way he was teasing you wasn't driving you fucking insane.

Severus hummed again as he had one side of your panties pulled down. "So, you do own a brain?" He teased whilst wrapping his other arm around your waist to pull your hips flush against his own, his desk shuddering a tad at the sudden rough movement. Instinctively, your arms flew out to steady yourself, your palms splayed out against the smooth wooden surface.

"So, you're still a dick?" You quipped cheekily, and Severus growled at you, one hand flying up to grab at your neck. It wasn't hostile, it was a light grasp, and yet it still undeniably lit a wild fire inside of you. Your hand had also flown up to hold the wrist of his hand that was wrapped gently around your neck.

"You need to keep that silly mouth under control." He tutted, giving your neck a light squeeze, and a loose moan left your lips, making a single brow of his shoot up in curiosity. Clearly, he wasn't expecting you to enjoy this.

"Evidently." You muttered, a faint and cheeky smirk lining your lips. "Are you going to keep talking or are you actually going to put that talented mouth of yours to good use?" You teased him, poking your tongue out from your mouth to glide along the bottom of your top row of teeth. As much as Severus hated being spoken to like this, he couldn't help but be turned on. It was undeniably hot, especially when you're usually so shy and sweet - he was actually wondering where the hell your bravery had come from.

Without any further delay, Severus kissed you harshly, the passion and frustration from your bold attitude fuelling his fire. The hand around your neck remained, however, his opposing hand snaked its way up from your bum to the small of your back, his fingers pressing into your skin, painting it red. You moaned at the roughness he was showing you, your mind becoming a jaded blur as he rocked his hips into yours fervidly, the prominent bulge in his trousers pressing into your panties. He swallowed a gasp that slipped out of your mouth as he kissed you, seizing the opportunity to dive his tongue in. You welcomed him eagerly, licking yours against his own in a brash manner. As you drew a throaty groan from Severus, you lifted your hand from his wrist to hold his cheek, tugging him impossibly closer to you. He released your neck from his light grip and slid his palm down your chest to cup one of your breasts with a harsh hand, plucking a whimper from your swollen, pink lips.

You panted as you threw your other arm around his neck, pulling him down over you as you fell back against his desk, lifting your legs to wrap them around his hips possessively. Merlin, you just needed him inside of you now, but this was almost as good as the actual sex. Severus's hands left your breast and instead found themselves settling on your hips, grabbing them roughly, pulling you into him; a muffled animalistic moan tumbling from his mouth as you grinded yourself on his raging erection.

He faltered slightly, his lips falling from yours, muttering a "Fuck," as his fingers dug into your flesh hungrily; his hot breath shuddering unevenly. "I need you," he whispered with an alarming urgency, a solitary hand slipping from your waist and dipping itself into your soaking panties, "now." And instantly, you let go of him to kick your underwear off to the ground, his hands flying to unbuckle his trousers with trembling fingers. Your hot touch was a burning contrast to his cool, pale flesh.

Severus inhaled sharply as you pulled down his boxers, the frigid air tickling his navel. Your eyes twinkled dangerously as you glanced up at him, a swirl of butterflies exploding in your stomach as he grit his teeth, your hand reached out to grab him gently, lining his solid cock up with yourself. In one swift motion, Severus thrust into you and you cried out at the full sensation, almost screaming with the overwhelming amount of pleasure and relief that seeped into your bones.

He stilled himself for a moment, evidently trying to adjust to the sudden welcome of your sweet, perfectly warm pussy. Severus panted, squeezing his eyes shut from the immense rush of pleasure surging through him. Watching his face twist, you giggled quietly from beneath him, placing a hand on his face, leaning up to press a gentle kiss upon his nose. His eyes opened slightly as a smile graced his sweaty features, gazing down at you with such tenderness and warmth that you were sure you'd fallen for him all over again. He looked so ethereal in this current moment, so much so that it reminded you of the first time you had properly stared at him in that corridor - just before you gave Lockhart a telling off. It was so vivid in your mind;the soft amber glow from the candlelight reminded you of the torchlights in the corridor that had bounced beautifully off of his perfect features.

A certain infamous three words tickled the tip of your tongue as you stared up at Severus. In fact, they were almost begging to be said, however, you refrained, afraid of how he might take them. You certainly didn't want to ruin this moment between you. It was far too special, and so you swallowed them down with a whimper as Severus kissed you once more, drinking every inch of you. He gradually began to move his hips and you whined at the delicious friction, clamping your legs around him tighter, encouraging him to quicken pace a tad. And so he did, going at a steadier rhythm, the only sounds echoing in his office being both of your ragged breaths and the sinful slaps of your flesh clashing together.

Strands of his jet black hair stuck to the sweaty sheen glazing his forehead, and you reached a finger up to tuck it behind his ear, planting another sweet, long kiss to his lips. The silent shows of affection through gentle, tender touches between the two of you soon made you realise that the pair of you weren't fucking, per se, but making love, and that was something that made your heart swell. An indescribable warmth began to engulf your trembling body as Severus shuffled a hand from your hip to your face, cupping it intimately, his forehead soon coming to rest against yours also. The remaining hand of his on your hip quickly made work and slipped down to your burning hot core, dipping in between your shining folds and rubbing an unceasing, circular motion upon your sensitive clit, prompting your body to jerk suddenly.

Your head fell back at the tingly sensation spreading through you, and Severus laid his warm mouth against your jawline, trailing wet kisses down your neck, nipping and biting it softly, careful not to leave marks - he was lost in the lust albeit not completely, he still had some remaining sense. And so he started to pluck more and more desperate concoctions of whines and whimpers from your quivering, parted pink lips as you felt the knot within your stomach tighten, telling you that you were almost at the edge of ecstasy.

"Sev," you whined, your hand slipping up into the locks of his hair, gripping tightly, "I'm- I think- I'm gonna..." You sobbed, the pleasure from his mouth on your neck, from his cock buried deep within you and from his masterful fingers circling your clit becoming all too much.

"Let it out, my love," Severus groaned against your neck, his thrusts becoming sloppy and desperate as he too was on the verge of finishing, "that's it, it's alright... Cum for me, darling," At his last breath, you came, a wild cry cut short from your mouth as Severus kissed you once more, swallowing your moans. He pulled away briefly to bury his head in your neck, his climax taking a hold of his body, a strangled, guttural groan rumbling in his throat as he collapsed on top of you.

Your hands slowly retreated from the comfort of his raven locks and settled on his cheeks, encouraging him to look up at you. Severus quickly obliged, using the remaining strength in his body to lift himself off of you slightly. Though he was still inside you, he remained there - not that you minded - and suddenly a quiet, almost bashful chuckle reverberated within his strong, panting chest. Instinctively, you smiled up at him, your teeth poking out from underneath your swollen lips.

"That has to be the best sex I've ever had." You giggled, your legs loosening around his waist as he chuckled again. You let your foot glide down his outer thigh, caressing it.

A proud smirk tugged at his lips as he muttered, "I'm honoured."

Another sweet giggle escaped you and it tickled his heart. God knows how he's going to recover from you if you're ever taken away from him. The thought frightened him, and so he pulled you closer for a moment, planting a tender kiss against your shining forehead, that familiar warmth in your chest quickly returning as fast as lightning.

"I..." You began, unthinking, your mouth staying open as you stopped yourself. Severus tilted his head at you, confused. There's no way you had almost let it slip. You fool. "I'm glad." You said instead, smiling.

"Hmm," he hummed, pondering, making your heart pound anxiously, "perhaps we'll start the actual lessons tomorrow." Severus stated, his smile returning. You nodded and a bashful blush painted your cheeks scarlet.

"Like you'd be able to keep yourself from kissing me." You scoffed playfully. Severus narrowed his eyes at you.

"Is that a challenge?"

"Perhaps." You mocked him again, grinning. He rolled his eyes at you and finally stood up, pulling himself out of you - rather reluctantly, might he add. Severus could have stayed in that position for the rest of eternity. In fact, he wished he could.

"You'll regret saying this tomorrow evening." Severus smirked, a mischievous glint twinkling in his black eyes as he used his wand to clean himself and you up, his hands buckling his trousers back up. He stepped forwards to pull the skirt of your dress back down. You offered him a quick grateful smile.

"Excuse me, who was the one was broke this evening?" You asked, scoffing hushedly. "Oh, yeah, you."

"Can you blame me?" Severus quipped, his fingers slowly floating up to grasp your chin, trailing them across your jawline and down your neck, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

"I guess I am irresistable." You joked, smiling coyly. Severus hummed at you again, slowly becoming lost in your glittering eyes. You looked so beautiful in this current moment, so beautiful that he found himself staring at you for much longer than would be considered socially acceptable. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." You giggled.

An amused huff left Severus. "I remember the days you'd cower in my presence, and yet, here you are, acting like that never happened." He said, smirking.

"Yeah, well, you were scary back then." You shrugged with a cheeky smile.

"Am I not now?"

"Not anymore, no."

"I suppose I've lost my touch." Severus mused jokingly, and you laughed at him. A kaleidoscope of butterflies burst inside of him at the sweet sound he adored so much. A year ago, he would have found it irritating, and now, he probably couldn't live without hearing it at least every other day. Gods, he still despised how soft he'd become towards you.

"I do hear some of the first-years talking about how they dread your lessons when they're in mine." You mumbled, looking down to link your fingers with his. You glanced back up at him, smiling bashfully.

"Maybe not then." Severus replied and quirked a brow.

"Definitely not." You grinned, lifting his hand up with yours to bring it to your lips, turning it to press a soft kiss against his fingertips. "You're still the scariest professor at Hogwarts, don't worry. I don't think anyone will be taking that from you any time soon."

"I should hope not." Severus joked sarcastically, finding it quite impossible to not crack a smile each time you showed him such tender affection.

There was a comfortable silence for a very quick moment before the thought of Ben returned to your mind. "I should probably go." You said with a solemn face, glancing away from Severus to the old, vintage-looking clock that sat against his wall. It was rather late, you must have spent at least two hours or more with him.

"Yes," Severus swallowed, and the smile that was previously sat on his face fell, "I'm sure Ben is worried sick." He added sarcastically with a scornful sneer, making you snort.

"So, same time tomorrow?"

"As long as nothing drastic happens, of course. Though, this time, we will have lessons."

"Lessons, or lessons, professor?" You asked, your tone flirtatious and shameless.

"Lessons, Y/N." Severus said sternly. "I do plan on teaching you that charm. Other things just... got in the way, this evening."

"Other things," you repeated, bravely leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, "I think I prefer other things, Sev." You joked, a faint, pink blush blossoming like a rose across your cheeks.

Sev.

You called him Sev. And it was during casual conversation, unlike before. His heart skipped a beat at the affectionate nickname. Severus quickly cleared his throat, composing himself before he spoke, refusing to embarrass himself. "And I would prefer you able to protect yourself during another dementor attack, God forbid it happens again." He said, his face turning grim at the awful thought. He placed a hand against the small of your back as you turned around, heading towards his door. Severus followed you closely, his fingers caressing the back of you gently.

As you reached his door together, you turned around to face him. "It won't." You smiled up at Severus and pressed your hand against where you had kissed him, brushing your thumb across his high, prominent cheekbones. "Not with you around."

"Am I your personal bodyguard now? When was this decided?" Severus joked as he leant into your hand, though his partially blank face didn't show it. You giggled again, setting his heart on fire once more.

"Right now. That okay?" You teased, smiling, letting your hand drop from his face.

"...Yes."

"Perfect." Your smile widened as you noticed the corners of his lips turning upwards. "I don't want to leave you."

"Neither do I, but you must." Severus sighed softly, gazing at you with gentle eyes.

"I know." You pursed your lips, staring back into his eyes, and you leaned up on your tiptoes, kissing him once more; your hands flying up to cup his cheeks. Severus wrapped his arms around your waist in return, pulling you flush against him, his whole body feeling like it was riddled with fireworks as tiny, exciting, colourful explosions erupted within his stomach as you kissed him.

One hand left his neck and you leant away from him to reach for the door handle, twisting it to open it as you continued to kiss Severus tenderly, smiling into the kiss as he tried to tug you close to him again. A giggle left your lips as he sighed and pulled away from your lips. Inside, he was fighting the urge to just shut the door and keep you here with him forever. Your aura was addicting, and he honestly couldn't get enough of it.

"Ahem," A female voice coughed from the his door, and you gasped out of fright, quickly jumping out of his arms. Severus quickly retracted them from you and tucked them behind his back, a bright red blush covering both of your faces.

"Minerva," Severus greeted, his voice flat, acting as if she did not just see the pair of your lips stuck together like a glue trap. You stood awkwardly still, terribly embarrassed that someone had seen the two of you acting out of hand.

"Don't act like I didn't see that, Severus." McGonagall scolded him, and he sighed heavily, avoiding her eyes. As for you, she glanced down, offering you a warm smile. "Y/N, what a surprise to find you here." She said with a mischievous glint in her wrinkled eyes, smirking faintly.

"Erm, yeah," you coughed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, "I-I was just leaving, Severus was giving me lessons."

"Oh, I'm sure he was, my dear." Minerva chuckled, and you blushed even harder, going as red as a beet. Jesus, were you an idiot? Why did you word it like that?

"What is it, Minerva?" Severus asked rather impatiently, a little salty at how she'd interrupted your goodbye. From the way Minerva glanced at you, you assumed that it was a personal issue. So, you offered the two of them an awkward smile, silently bidding them goodbye. You caught Severus's eye, and he smiled at you warmly, his shoulders relaxing a tad. You smiled back, mouthing a 'bye' to him and turned around, wandering back in the direction to your quarters. As you were walking further away from the two of them, you heard muttering, and then a door shut. You quickly threw a glance over your shoulder, hoping to catch one last glimpse of him. Though, you were sorely disappointed. Severus had disappeared already.

Despite that, another wide smile crossed your face as you folded your arms against your chest, thinking about what had just happened. You couldn't believe how gentle and soft he was with you, he was like a totally different man. A man that you adored.

No, a man that you loved.

this has to be my favourite part that i have written. i think. as of yet. :) let me know what you thought!! i really really would love to know <3

thank you for reading and have a good day/night, make sure you are taking care of yourselves. >:(

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ncteez · 1 year

Text

The perks of being that guy (l.jh.)

Taking note of the strangers you see day to day isn’t something you’d normally do. The only reason today is different is because the guy who made small talk as he rang you up for your intimate items was the same guy who showed up catering for your family reunion.

or the one where jihoon is a dildo salesman, a caterer, a self-titled mechanic, and also your ride home. he is not an expert in any of his jobs, but he sure is an expert in wit and, well, other things.

ao3 | m.list | reblog to give woozi a lil kiss

minors dni!!

WORDCOUNT― 14k

PAIRING― jihoon x afab reader

CONTENT― strangers to lovers like immediately, long fluffy hair jihoon!!!!, you buy a monster sized dildo, blatant talking of masturbation and toys, smut, cliche blooming an attachment to someone after (1) fuckening.

NOTE― a present for u all because i hit a milestone of 5000 followers!! this was only supposed to be like 5k words but i guess i was in love with him this whole time. anyway, this is not proof read bc i think u guys know by now that im not about that life, so if you find a typo– don’t tell me i will delete everything out of embarrassment.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― it’s kind of fluffy im so sorry i just have feelings for him, average cock size jihoon!!!! he is very much a service top, making out, hand holding, caressing, grinding, finger fucking, titty worship, unprotected sex (just wrap it guys, im too lazy to write a condom scene), sweet talking as a form of dirty talk, missionary bc i refuse to not write smut where he wants to look directly at you, back scratches (sexual) ~

Never have you been put in the position to make small talk about the sex toys you place on a counter to purchase. Then again, you guess it’s part of the job description that most people ignore or aren’t privy to actually doing.

Never have you been informed of the wide variety of lubricants, additional toy-cleaners, or the bigger and smaller alternatives to your chosen toy. You don’t show discomfort though, because it’s not uncomfortable. Sex is normal, masturbation is more normal, and the man in front of you appears to be normal too.

“There’s twelve different color variants if you prefer something less fleshy.” The man says, standing at the counter with some sort of a permanent pout on his lips.

“I’m fine with my choice, if you could just ring me up now I can get out of your hair.” You respond, glancing at the time on your phone and wondering how you got stuck with the only employee who actually does his job here.

“Are you sure you don’t want any lubricant…?” The man adds, gazing at the size of your toy and then looking you up and down as if you clearly wouldn’t be able to handle it without said lube purchase.

The man with no name tag appears to be blissfully unaware of his invasiveness with that question as you tilt your head with a raised brow. Shocked at the very question, it’s actually quite laughable that he’s so monotone with the offensive comment. You imagine he’s done this for so long, he must be a manager trying to get the day over with, going through the steps in a bored mood with little to no regard as to how he must sound to strangers buying their first or twentieth dildo.

With your assumption that he doesn’t exactly care about the level of wet your vagina is when you use this toy, you respond.

“I think I know what I can take and I already have lube, but thanks.”

He nods, not even sparing you much of a glance before giving you a total and bagging your item.

Now, despite Jihoon’s lack of interest toward the purchase of toys he finds it comical that he’s grown numb to the very fact that he knows everyone in this town’s kinks after they step out of the shop’s door. Someone’s gotta do this job and keep those secrets and he likes to think he fits the bill perfectly.

Lively as he may be outside of this shop, each job comes with a personality and this one calls for one of disinterest in your product but interest in the sale. He’s not one to lie to himself though, many times a pretty girl has marched in and bought toys far bigger than any man and he does tend to let his mind wander about it from time to time. When he first started this job, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, he found it hard to navigate a single sale without a flush of rosy tints crossing his cheeks and ears. Now, he’s become a veteran at keeping his dick locked in place if he were to feel some type of way about a purchase and the one purchasing.

Shy as he was when he started, it’s all lost now as he handles dicks and dongs, pocket pussies and anal plugs, even whips and chains.

Shy. That’s definitely a word and surprisingly one that can describe him when he’s not on schedule within these walls of alien dicks and lime flavored lube to match the grotesque green color. At his other job, because he works two, he takes the praise of being the charming yet, timid man who shows up with pans of food for events.

The guests seem to love him, and many times during weddings and company parties he has been offered phone numbers or asked for one simply because he appears to be that of a friendly face with a kind sense of being.

It’s a stark contrast of jobs, and somehow he’s managed to dodge knowing many of the people coming into his night job to shop for ways to fuck themselves. The rare time it had happened, he was thankful to have another person in the shop to ring them up. Keeping up with two jobs is hard, and keeping up with two personalities is even harder.

You hadn't thought of that guy from the sex shop even once until he showed his face at your family reunion.

He noticed you before you managed to realize it was him though. Stealing looks in your direction as you chat with little cousins and elder aunts and uncles, mostly to double check in his brain if you’re really the girl who showed up and nonchalantly bought the newest dildo in stock. The fleshy colored one with rotating beads and a g-spot stimulator button. Upon your eyes meeting his though, he could tell it was you simply by your furrowed brow as you recognized him.

Jihoon couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that eventually someone at an event would recognize him as their local sex-shop manager, he’s actually shocked it doesn’t happen more often. At least it’s you though, a woman who looks near his age and clearly has a very healthy relationship with her sexuality. So much so that you weren’t shy or nervous in buying the toy from him, because it’s very true that many people feel too vulnerable when buying those kinds of items.

His smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by you before you look away from him and focus your attention back to your family. And by the time he’s prepared the food and is standing aside to help explain or describe what ingredients the dishes have, you’re walking up with your empty plate and an awkward glance.

He follows you down the line, seemingly more interested in you than anyone else. You could argue it’s just an attempt to make you feel embarrassed though.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask, a knowing look telling him that you’re already very aware of that ‘somewhere’ you know him from.

His pursed lips and snide hidden laugh at you is one thing, but the way he whispers to you over a pan of potato casserole is another.

“I think you know who I am.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back again with a flicker of a grin.

You leave it at that, looking him in the eye curiously and for some reason, smiling back at the strange second encounter with a man who appears to have a name tag now.

“Thanks, Jihoon. See you around.”

You’re heading away from the table of food and now toward your saved spot at the table of family that you missed the most. Your same-age cousins, the ones you grew up with and made mud pies for your parents with during summer evenings.

“What was that about?” One of them leans over to ask, glancing to the man who is still overseeing the table of food and maintaining perfect temperatures.

“Huh? He was just telling me what was in the potatoes.”

She takes your answer as truth without issue, and the conversation falls away and into something else. College life, job life, family life.

Okay so you’re trying to hear yourself out here. Are you somehow curious and interested in speaking with Jihoon? Yeah. Do you know why? Also yes. For one, he just sold you a fucking interesting sex toy last weekend in the most uncomfortable way possible, and now he’s here at your family reunion to remind you of what you do in your apartment when you’re alone.

His personality seemed different this time too. He wasn’t monotone, he was snide with you about knowing who you are. He probably thinks it’s funny that he ended up at your family reunion over any other event.

So yeah, maybe you find yourself going up to the table for seconds even though you’re no longer hungry. Maybe you definitely wait until no one else is at the table and he appears to be tidying up the space and wiping up spills.

“How many jobs do you have?” You ask in a sarcastic tone when you reach him, the table between the two of you creating a comfortable distance to poke and prod.

He jumps only slightly at your presence because he didn’t notice you walking up. Then he’s smiling again, looking at you up and down.

“Plenty. How much lube do you have left?” He answers before shooting back his own question and getting right to the point.

You freeze in shock at his question, reminding yourself that his monotone voice from the late dildo purchase is no more and he now comes across as vibrant and charming to you. You check him out for a moment, taking mental notes of what may not be to like about him. Unfortunately, you’re not finding much to take note of.

“I can’t imagine you have much left, that thing was a fucking monster.” He pauses to cover his mouth, forgetting that he’s supposed to be timid and gentle during his day job. He’s not supposed to be himself.

You find yourself laughing at his panic though, leaning over the table and holding out your empty plate. Mostly just to get in closer to him.

“Why are you so interested in my ‘fucking monster”’ dildos anyway?” You narrow your eyes.

He pauses, his panic easing after taking note of your easy personality and banter towards him.

“I think anyone would be interested, with all things considered.” He checks you out again. “Correction, they should be worried.”

“You’re different from before,” you comment, both of you now blatantly staring down each other. “I like this version of you more.”

Something inside of him feels giddy at that. Not to be cliche but he wonders if this is what it’s like to instantly have a crush on someone. Again, he’s not one to lie to himself. You’re pretty and you appear to be confident. Confident enough to discuss this at your own family reunion at least.

“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime then.” He puts a hand forward, inviting you to shake it but you simply stare down at it.

“Yeah, maybe you will.” You smile, slapping his hand as if you’re low fiving him.

Honestly, he might actually see you within the next day or two because he was kind of right to ask about how much lube you have left, but it’s not like you’d answer that truthfully if at all. You might be running out after just two uses. He was right again about it being a fucking monster, because well, yeah. Maybe you’ll pop in and shop for bulk lube instead of rejecting his up-sale.

Unfortunately for you, upon the reunion coming to an end, you get into your car and of course it doesn’t start. Your head slamming into the steering wheel with a sigh that’s probably loud enough for the entire town to hear.

The last thing you need is your father driving you home, because he will lecture you about your car and how it’s got to be some fault of your own for it to not start. And you know, yeah maybe it was your fault. Why were your lights turned on during a sunny sunday afternoon? Fuck if you know. Why were they left on for the entire nine hours you spent at your parent’s house? You refuse to ask yourself questions.

Just as you prepare to head back inside, taking the walk of shame ten minutes after saying your goodbyes, a savior appears.

That savior is none other than Jihoon walking up with his stiff button down shirt partially unbuttoned, hair now disheveled as he must have ruffled it up after the day of work. He watched you from his catering van for just a few minutes before finally getting out to offer his expertise.

“The battery is dead.” He smiles, slapping both palms on your hood and leaning to look at you through the windshield.

“Smart man, can you un-dead my battery before my dad comes out?”

Jihoon shakes his head apologetically.

“I already checked the van for the cables, could be a write up on my part for not checking before leaving. We are supposed to have all sorts of shit to prevent breakdowns on a job. Not today though, apparently.” He scratches the back of his neck as he walks to your opened car door.

“If you can hang tight for like ten minutes I can swing by after dropping the van off.”

Your eyes plead with him. You’d prefer this, yes. If he’s willing to help, you’re willing to accept.

“You sure I’m too out of the way for you to do that?”

He shakes his head nonchalantly, waving you off as he leans into your car to pull your keys out of the ignition. He smells like food, obviously he does, but there’s a scent of something else on him that’s far more attractive. The dull scent of cologne that matches him all too well.

“Don’t try to turn it on anymore if you don’t want your dad coming out.” He laughs. “I’m sure he would help you but if you’d rather I help you, I am more than happy to do it.”

He’s teasing. His little crush pushes him to want to help you, but he’s gonna play it off as casually as possible.

“I’ll hang out here. My dad would lecture the fuck out of me.”

Jihoon nods, backing away and heading back to his van to fulfill his offer.

On another note, you’re shocked that your father didn’t hear the commotion, and even more shocked that he didn’t step outside once since the reunion ended. He must have been tired, and you know him, he sleeps like a rock even if he hits the sack at 7pm without even cleaning up the yard.

“Oh, it’s dead dead.” Jihoon looks at you apologetically, peeking his head out from the side of your hood and through your window.

“Define dead dead.” You comment, taking your keys out of the ignition with a huff.

“Like, you need a new battery. This one is done for.”

You sigh loudly, knowing that now you’ll have to go ask your parents for a ride home. Know that your dad is going to add more to his lectures with each day your car is sitting in their driveway. This is so fucking annoying. At least you work from home though, so it’s not like you’re gonna lose your job over this or anything.

Jihoon unhooks the cables and turns off his car, then stands there and watches you for a moment. You look frustrated and annoyed, and it’s very much like him to offer more help. Of course it is.

“Would it be too forward to ask if you need a ride home?”

You look at him confused, tilting your head and studying his body language much like before. You’re not one to decline someone making your life a little bit easier, and he is interesting to talk to. You nod slowly, then pause.

“You’ve worked all day, don’t waste your off-time helping me out.”

“I’m already wasting my off time on you though, might as well let me drive you home too?”

You stare at him.

“Okay.”

The awkward silence sets in shortly after you seat yourself in his car. You fill that silence with small sarcastic comments about his car though, and soon it becomes easy to be in the space with him.

“Where did this sticker come from?” You ask, poking your finger into a sticker with its edges rolled from the summer heat, probably.

“Ex girlfriend, i couldn’t get it off without it leaving a residue so I’m just letting the sun do its job and melt it off.”

“Oh, harsh.” You laugh, wanting to prod further. “Why’d you break up?”

Jihoon pauses, you can tell by the way his foot lets up from the gas momentarily that he wasn’t expecting you to ask that. Then again, he’s said some weird shit to you too, so you figure it’s not an end-all question.

“Was that too forward to ask?”

“Not at all, just wasn’t expecting it,” He shakes his head with a small smile, nearly reaching his hand from the wheel to pat your leg in reassurance. He holds back, wondering why the fuck that urge felt so normal for him to do. “It’s been like a year, so I’m over it and stuff. She just thought I worked too much and didn’t spend enough time with her.”

“Ouch, even harsher.” You smile in reassurance to him, also feeling it normal to want to do that for some reason. “Her loss, I mean, discounted dildos and food? Huge loss.”

He laughs at your comments, briefly looking over at you once he stops at a red light. Your eyes are shining with life, with interest even. At that moment, he feels something between the two of you. Which is quite strange considering this is your first time officially meeting him outside of his working hours. He can’t help the way his face softens though, it happens against his will, honestly, it does.

“You’re kind of cute,” You blurt, breaking eye contact with him and shifting in your seat. “and fun to hang out with.”

“Hang out?” He laughs at you, eyes now adjusting back to the road and lowering his speed just to have a bit more time with you. “This is hardly a hang-out, but if you’re interested, I’m more than willing to check my schedule to see when I’m free next.”

You feel confidence raise up in your chest, bubbling to be free in the form of a question likely too bold to actually consider.

“You’re free right now…” You comment quietly, glancing at him.

“Hm?” He asks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and feeling your eyes on him. He heard you, but he wouldn’t mind hearing you repeat it.

“I said, you’re free right now.” You repeat, this time with more confidence. “Would it be too forward to ask if –”

“Nothing is too forward to ask, I literally sold you a dildo.”

You pause in shock, all thoughts leaving your head.

“Damn, alright,” You laugh, feeling kind of warm inside at how his forwardness matches your own. “If you’re free right now, we could hang out right now.”

How lucky for both of you. He’s actually not catering tomorrow and only has to be at work at the good ol’ sex shop in the evening.

“Alright,” He nods, glancing over to you. “Kind of fucked up we are hanging out after I met your entire family and still haven’t gotten a name from you yet though, wouldn’t you think?”

Oh fuck, he’s right.

“I’m sure you heard the kids yelling it all day. Don’t be dramatic.”

He laughs, already in love with the idea of spending more time with you.

“Where to then, y/n?”

If your parents were to ask why you’re walking through your apartment building with the caterer following behind you, you’d have no excuse. Then again, as an adult, you don’t think you need one. It’s strange despite how open and casual you are with making friends though, because you never just invite strangers to your place for friendship. Not at least without hanging out a few times.

You guess it’s not super awkward because it’s true that he already knows things about you that your family doesn’t. Such as, the things you penetrate yourself with when you’re alone. It’s a major ice breaker, and something that makes the friendship with him come easy even after barely talking to the guy.

The few words you have shared have been easy and fun, so it’s only natural that if your instinct is to want to be around him a little longer, you’d invite him in right? You weren’t really expecting him to accept your answer to his question.

“Where to then?”

You thought for a moment when he asked that. You don’t go to clubs or bars anymore, most places would have been closing within the hour, and it��s not like you didn’t eat to peak fullness during the family reunion so having a late dinner with him was out of the question too. You answered him so easily, and he accepted in a way that seemed just as natural to him.

“We could just hang out at my place, I’ve got plenty of streaming services, a gaming system, and wine.”

“Sounds good.”

It was so easy to become friends with him, and now with him following you up to your apartment, the typical awkwardness that should come with this type of thing isn’t swarming your mind at all. He’s even making small talk about the building itself after parking in your parking spot.

“This building is way nicer than mine, you got a door code and everything just to get in.”

“Wasn’t always like this. Being a single woman in a city like this calls for safety measures though.”

A little box in his head checks out. He didn’t even have to ask if you’re single, because he already assumed you were with the way you so easily invited him over.

By the time you get to your door with him, he’s polite when he walks in and takes off his shoes. Polite in the way he looks around and studies your space, even polite in the way he walks into the living room and invites himself onto your couch and grabs your remote.

“I was going to say make yourself comfortable but–”

“Well, would you prefer I sit on your floor?” He shoots back with a sarcastic tone in his voice. “Would you prefer I start digging through your cabinets for snacks? Would you prefer–”

“You’re so much more talkative when I’m not trying to buy something from you.” You comment with a laugh, dipping into the kitchen for two glasses and that cheap bottle of wine.

“Speaking of, do you actually use that thing and like it? I mean, I see some weird purchases but that specific one is super popular with the fetish groups.”

For the first time, you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You should have known that the sex toy would be a point of conversation, considering the first time you ever met was buying it.

“Yes, I use it. I’m surprised you find it shocking considering it’s literally your job to know what people like in terms of getting off.”

He smiles at that, because you’re damn right he knows. Most of the time he would prefer not to know, but he always did wonder if, on the off chance, he ended up hooking up with a customer he’d have some prior knowledge of how they like it based on toys alone.

“You know, no one buys toys on a Monday at nine in the morning.”

“I buy toys at nine in the morning on a Monday,” You chuckle, carrying the two glasses and wine into the living room and plopping down next to him. “Why does that matter? I’m sure you make your quotas even on the slow days considering how hard you were trying to up-sell me.”

He shrugs as he watches you pour him a glass.

“It’s easy to up-sell when you know people’s kinks after a few purchases. I do that to everyone just to gauge what they need so if they come back I can make more offers.”

“A true salesman.” You laugh with a pitied voice. “What would you say my kink is?”

He studies you, looking you up and down without shame and thinking hard about your single purchase.

“Well, considering that specific item is, again, usually looked at by a specific type of person or couple, I’d say–”

“Wrong.” You interrupt before he even tries to make a guess. “I don’t have a kink, I just have a sex drive.”

You take a sip at his silence of being beaten to the punch, and then he takes his own thoughtful sip.

“Okay then, What do you think my kink is?” He asks slyly, cup still against his lips as he sips again.

“Wha–” You narrow your eyes. “Hell if I know, you probably don’t even have sex after being in a hyper-sexualized space like that for hours on end.”

“Wrong.” He pokes his tongue into his cheek and looks away from you with another casual chuckle.

“Are you telling me you have a pocket pussy or like, a buttplug or something?”

“Three pocket pussies, actually.”

You don’t know why you’re shocked. For some reason his sex toys becoming the focus makes you feel more shy than your own being the focus.

“I bet you named them.”

“Pocket 1, Butthole 1, and Jessica.”

“Jessca?!”

He nods in a matter-of-fact tone with a proud smile.

You feel comfortable around him, never having a friend who openly talks to you about these things without any type of awkwardness. It’s the fact that he’s a man too. Usually they think with their dicks and he seems to have no qualms in admitting that it’s something he may do from time to time too.

You imagine he needs this type of personality to work such a job though, being casual about sex can be so difficult for your average joe because for some reason, it is embarrassing. It’s hard to talk about even to sex-shop employees. You like to think he’s probably someone who makes others feel comfortable about their sexual habits though, because you feel comfortable.

“I’m lying by the way.” He cuts through your thoughts, “I only have two.”

You nod energetically.

“Jesse and James.”

“Oh my god, how did you know that?”

You narrow your eyes again. He’s gotta be a fucking nerd to get the reference, even if everyone knows what pokemon is.

“So the pussy is Jesse, and the asshole is James.”

He nods slowly, acting surprised before smirking yet again.

“Actually, I only have one but I’ve experimented with other things that come through the door. Might as well, right?”

“And yet, you’re shocked about my single dildo purchase without knowing of my other items of interest? I could have just been trying something new too, y’know.”

Another sip of wine, and another glance away from him.

“No one buys that as a first time experience.” He shoots back.

“Okay, enough about my dildo, I actually have a question about something you might have in stock but I’ve kind of been too embarrassed to ask until now.”

He nods, his personality shifting only slightly into that as the manager of the sex-shop.

“Shoot.”

“Do you guys have like,” you pause, unsure of why you’re even trying to ask. Again, it’s not like masturbation is embarrassing, nor is the purchasing of toys. Asking for a specific item is a bit too intimate to you though, so you usually just buy those things online. “Okay hear me out.”

“Tentacles? Furry buttplugs with tails attached? Bondage rope? Paddles?”

“No…” You pause at his spewing of different types of toys. “I know you have all of that.”

He pauses, unsure of what could be so embarrassing.

“Do you guys have sex dolls for women? You know, like, just a dude torso with a normal length and girth?”

Jihoon fucking snorts. How mundane. Unfortunately for you though, Nope.

“Nah, the owner tries to cater more towards men and fetish stuff. We’ve got women sex dolls but he’s never really even mentioned just like…a dildo attached to some sort of form that is shaped like a person.”

You shrug.

“Guess sticking it to the wall is all I can do for now then. But like,” You pause, realizing that you’re actually going into detail at this point, which might be a little uncomfortable for him? Maybe? “It’s really annoying to have it sticking to the floor, and you’re like, riding it and it just pops off and stabs your thigh slipping out mid-orgasm.”

He snorts again, this time unable to stop laughing at the image of whatever orgasm instilled the frustration in you to even mention that happening. He tries to stifle his laughter with the last sip of his wine before choking it down and pushing his glass at you for more.

“Noted,” He snorts, nodding his head and almost hiding his face from you. “I’ll tell the boss we need male sex dolls so the women don’t get thigh fucked mid-orgasm.”

You glare.

“Dude, no, because it actually hurt.”

“Maybe you should slow down next time so the full force of your…” he pauses, realizing how sexual the image in his head is of you right now.

“Okay, wait. I’m sorry, is this conversation too much right now?” You ask, looking him up and down and giving him a new glass of wine. “You’re blushing.”

He tries to play it off.

“As if you could make me blush.” He laughs at you, downing half of his glass in one go. “To make up for our lack of product though, and if you don’t tell anyone, I’ll give you a discount on your next purchase just for embarrassing yourself like that just now.”

“Oh, I was supposed to be embarrassed?” You counter, laughing along with him as you actually start to look at him.

You noticed that he was handsome before. Normally employees of shops like those are nonchalant normal people, or strange old men who try to impose their kinks onto you. Jihoon though. Jihoon. Hmm, how to explain him?

With his messy hair that covers his eyes every time he whips his head toward you in a laugh, with his wide smile and pretty eyes. He may not be the tallest man you’ve ever looked at like this but damn is he thick. Like his thighs. Damn, the thighs. Even him now compared to him when he was catering for your family, he’s so much more handsome.

His shoulders are broad, and he’s just… You don’t even know how to explain to yourself the attraction you have toward him at this moment. Handsome is one thing, and you would have continued calling him that if it weren’t for the fact that he’s laughing with you on your couch about a ruined orgasm.

“You know, Jihoon,” You start, looking into your glass and swirling the liquid inside, then you look up again and make eye contact. “I’m really not usually this forward but like,”

His brain stops for a moment at the serious tone in your voice, his expression softens and you can tell he’s listening.

“I know masturbation and stuff is normal, and like, you see and talk about these things all the time but I never really talk about it to other people, they always get weird about it.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I can’t say this is the most normal hang out I've ever had. Usually we talk about our favorite movies or books or something.”

You wave him off.

“Yeah, that’s a good point. We could talk about our favorite movies but I find myself, um–” You stop for a second.

“Is talking about it making you realize that it’s uncomfortable?”

“No, the opposite actually.” You laugh, now actually feeling embarrassed. “I keep thinking about you mentioning the other things you’ve bought and experimented with.”

“Oh? You’re curious?” He laughs, now feeling a bit shy himself because he’s pretty sure that’s you asking him to put images in your head. “I mean I could go into detail but it actually might be too-telling right now.”

You nod, unsure of why you even suggested.

“Maybe next time?” You change the subject with a smile, one that does seem slightly disappointed.

“There’s a next time?” He smiles, setting his glass down on your table and shifting toward you.

“I don’t see why not? I’m having fun, plus you offered me a discount.”

He nods, looking around the room and checking the time.

“I should probably head out then? We’ve both had a long day.”

You nod back to him, feeling a bit sad.

“When are you free next?” You ask, grabbing your phone in a way that seems a bit too excited. “Can you give me your number?”

He obliges, exchanging phone numbers and promising to contact you with his next free day or night to hang out.

Just as he goes to leave though, for some reason both of you feel as though the satisfaction of this hang out wasn’t reaching full potential.

“Hey, um,” He stops before he puts his shoes back on. “Would it be too forward to say I’m not tired and wouldn’t mind–”

“Staying for a bit longer?” You finish his sentence for him, patting the couch as if that was also on your mind.

He doesn’t even respond, and instead makes his way back onto the couch where the cushion is still warm, unable to help that fluttering feeling in his chest.

It's almost midnight by the time he offers to leave again, and yet, he stays at your clear disappointment of the offer. Another hour later, the two of you are sitting contently and pretending to watch some shitty tv show in comfortable silence.

“We should say something.” He blurts, mid episode.

“What do you mean?”

He turns toward you.

“We should talk about this.” He motions at the space between the two of you.

You’re silent while you try to build up the confidence to meet him half-way again.

“You can correct me if you’re not interested but I actually really would like it if you kissed me or something.” He adds as you continue to process what he seems to be getting at.

You’re taken aback by his forwardness, and instantly you knew he didn’t communicate this earlier for your own sake. Thankfully, you’ve tried to make it easy for him to read you and he ate it up like his favorite book. The content feeling between the two of you was buzzing up to this point. Very loudly in your brain where you were thinking of how to kiss him before the night is up. Even as just a “thank you” if he were to turn away from it.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, tilting your head and seeing him scoot closer. “Kiss you, or something?”

He nods his head, looking at you without much issue and searching for a reaction.

“Are you interested in me like that, in any way?” He asks, looking for confirmation.

“Oh, most definitely.”

The smile that spreads across his face is one that you can argue will be unforgettable. It’s an expression you hope to bring to every person in your life, one that seems to express nothing but relief, excitement, and maybe even a hint of bashfulness.

“You thought I'd invite you inside without being interested?” You smile at him, feeling a little bit fuzzy in the head at the admittance.

“I thought you were just being nice, or like, just interested in friendship,” He rambles on, stopping himself short to give more context to that statement. “I mean, it would be fine if this was all for friendship and I'm happy with that too but I can admit to coming into your apartment with maybe, uh, a small crush.”

“I can admit to inviting you in with a small crush, maybe.”

“Maybe.”

“Are we being too forward?” You ask, emphasizing the repetitive way that word seems to appear. “Even though you’re in my apartment at one in the morning and both of us are giving any and every excuse to keep you here?”

He smiles this time in a way that appears to be self-soothing, and you can imagine you are too. It’s always nerve-wracking to walk on eggshells with another person, the threat of wondering if you'll fall alone or fall with them into a new version of partnership.

You don’t think about the lack of knowing him past a purchase, a quick conversation at a family reunion, or the past several hours he’s huddled up with you on this couch. You simply don’t think it’s strange at this point. After all, you’ve met people online and invited them over without much more than a name, age, and quick conversation about what they want sexually. How is this worse? How is this strange?

“You’re right. Maybe we should stop being so polite when the reality of it is that I’ve been imagining what you’ve done with that toy since the day you bought it.”

Okay, maybe that was too forward but all is lost now as your image of him changes drastically within the mere seconds it took him to say that, not in a bad way either. Again, of course he’s comfortable admitting it, the dude stares at dicks and holes all day. But now he’s staring at you, and talking directly to you.

Your silence makes him shift a bit, shaking his head apologetically.

“Found the boundary, got it.” He shames himself with a timid voice, looking away from you and back to the tv with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m not lying though.” He adds after a few more minutes of your silence.

“Not much of a boundary if I admit that I was blatantly asking you earlier what you’ve done to experiment with your toys.”

“Aha! So I was right in thinking you were straight up asking for mind-porn of me?!” He feels instantly comfortable again, turning his entire body toward you as he folds up one of his legs to sit on with a little bounce.

“Maybe, but what do you mean you’ve been imagining since I bought it? You barely made eye contact with me that day.”

“Oh, I was checking you out the whole time you shopped. Imagine my face when I knew exactly what toy you were reaching for.”

You shove him by the shoulder with a laugh, realizing that this is the first bodily contact you’ve ever had with him, but he actually leans into your shove rather than out of it. Meaning, he barely budges.

“If I looked you in the eye at the register, you would have thought I was some pervert.”

“You are a pervert. You said it had, what? Twelve other colors?”

He shrugs with a pained smile at how cringe he must have sounded to you.

“You seemed more like a sparkly pink girl rather than a normal flesh tone girl. Then again, this was before I knew you were looking for a literal male sex doll for probably super normal pretend-sex.”

You shove him again, your laugh coming out more forced now at the way he jokes with you. Once again, he doesn’t budge. In fact, he’s leaning in closer.

“Now hold on, you didn’t mention anything about one having glitter in it.” You joke, wiggling your brows.

“You trying to fuck a man or a magic unicorn?” He laughs yet again, all of it coming out more forced as the two of you drag out information just to hear the dirty words in a voice you’re only just realizing you like far too much.

“A man.” You respond, this time not laughing, looking him dead in the eye and trying to pretend you don’t notice how close the two of you have gotten. “Why else would I go for more human skin tones?”

“Fuck if I know, I haven’t met a single man who has vibration settings or rolling beads though.”

You snort.

“Shame…but also, why do you think I’m on the hunt for the most mundane sex toy a woman can buy now? The rolling beads almost had me passing out.”

“Was it too much?” He asks seriously, hoping to god it was.

“A little bit, yeah.”

“I can imagine you want something to feel real after that.”

For some reason, his words hit you straight in the gut. Your stomach drops as your attraction heightens, and suddenly you’re just staring at him as you respond.

“I can imagine so, yeah.”

He stares back, almost no space between the two of you as the banter only brought you both mentally and physically as close as possible without becoming twisted together.

“When was the last time you felt something real?” He asks against his better judgment, wondering if you’re on the same page with him. Wondering if all this banter was leading to somewhere or nowhere. Because he could have sworn admitting to wanting you to kiss him, and you’ve yet to do so.

“A month and a half.” You respond dryly, suddenly needing something to drink.

He glances down at your neck when you swallow around your words, then stares at your lips before breathing in a sigh. One that was supposed to relieve the tension in this moment, but only building it more because he knows you see him do it. He knows you see him wet his bottom lip too.

“Are you going to kiss me, or are you planning to wait another month and a half to get what you want?” He continues on his streak of boldness as if to distract you from noticing the sexual tension, feeling his heart skip beats at the intensity of the moment.

“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” You start, leaning in and still looking straight into his eyes.

“Are you suggesting that I’m boring?” He narrows his eyes as he feels your breath against his lips, still sweet from the wine that did close to nothing in terms of altering the brain. The two of you are totally planted into reality, if anything, a little drunk on the other.

“Not at all.” You adjust your words from earlier, there, just hovering over his lips. “I’m just saying that nothing is more interesting than kissing you right now.”

Oh, the fluttering in his belly is so fucking intense right now. No eighteen inch alien tentacle dildo on a shelf could scare him as much as you do at this moment. Intimidatingly outspoken and aware of your wants and needs. His eyelashes flutter just like his stomach does, closing them slowly until he can feel your lips on his.

Your stomach, on the other hand, has been doing flips since the first instance he admitted to wanting to stay. All of the tension, all of the comfortable silence, all of the glances, the smiles, the laughing, all of it was leading up to this. The moment your lips hit his, they feel much like you imagined they would.

Soft, plush, warm. The thin lipped grins he’s given you all fucking day now laying flat against your own lips, no longer grinning, now just wanting. And he’s gentle, so fucking gentle with it. Never has a man asked you to kiss him. Usually they close the gap to try and swoon you. It appears you’re both being swooned by each other at the moment though, and his soft kiss only pulls back momentarily before he leans forward, closer.

The third touch, save for you shoving him, his lips on yours, and now…his hand on your cheek. Caressing so gently as he deepens the kiss with ease. The heat rises up and through your skin at the simple touch. You think he must feel it with the way he chuckles into the kiss and starts peppering them against your lips over and over again. A split second between each lay of his lips, and then another solid kiss. One where you finally start moving yours too.

It’s slow and languid in the way he kisses you like this, barely even darting his tongue out but focusing more on your cheek against his palm. He can feel your jaw move as you kiss and can’t help but love what’s happening, and when you’re the one to lick against his lower lip, he falls in so easily.

That little movement from you, that little feeling of your tongue experimentally prodding his lips open releases the last bit of tension holding him back. He pulls back to look at you and you’re not backing down even slightly.

“Does this feel more real for you?” He asks in a snide way, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb of the glistening saliva before tilting his head with a smile.

You very nearly roll your eyes at him for that. And by very nearly, you do roll your eyes at him and can’t help but smile yet again.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” He says, palm still against your cheek, tips of his fingers toying with the baby hairs on your hair-line. “because I can imagine that the toy couldn’t ki-”

You shoot forward to kiss him again, only just realizing how awkward the positioning is considering neither of you were probably expecting more than a first kiss.

He laughs into it, knowing you were silencing him of something that could arguably be the most cringe-worthy thing he can say after kissing you. His laughs start to stifle though, as you press forward and somehow manage to have his back against the seat of the couch and you planting yourself on top of him.

“Can you shut up about the toy now? I thought we got past that,” You argue as you pull back, your cheek already missing the feeling of his palm against it. “You can’t just act like this and then say some dumb shit like that.”

You’re joking, he knows it. If anything, you’re complimenting him right now and he eats it the fuck up as he stares up at you.

“Was I wrong though? Can it do this for you?”

You take a moment to look at him, realizing that this is the man who you just kissed. With his hair a mess and fanned out onto the cushions, strands falling in front of his eyes, but mostly swept back and exposing the entirety of his forehead to you.

You reach forward and brush a strand from his eyes.

“Actually, say what you want.” You correct yourself and manage to ignore his question.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” He half-chuckles as he brings his hands up to set against your waist, hoping you don’t pull out of the intimate position the two of you are in.

“I don’t know, I was just looking at you and thought it was stupid for me to try to argue with you right now.”

“Why’s that?” He prods for more compliments, feeling himself twitch at the way you look hovering over him.

“Are you trying to argue right now?” You tilt your head, adjusting yourself now to sit directly on his thighs and lay forward, both hands cushioning your chin on his chest as you straddle him.

“Would it be so wrong to admit that you’re fun when you argue with me?”

You can feel him breathe under you, nearly rocking you further and further into whatever headspace Jihoon seems to put you in. It’s too comfortable, and it almost feels as though you’ve been with him for years now. You barely know him, yet you’re lying on him as if you got married two years ago. Insane how this works. How the heart works, or the brain, or whatever drives the arousal you’re feeling right now.

“Will you argue if I ask to show you my room?” You start, lifting back up and away from his chest, now scooting forward a bit. You don’t dare sit on it yet, but you very much would like to if he were to suggest not moving at all from this couch. “My bed.”

He stutters and quickly quiets his excited words, replacing his voice with a nod and a sharp inhale.

“Hah! Telling me to argue and instantly buckling the second I mention my bed.” You laugh, pulling yourself up and sauntering out of his view.

He stares at the ceiling for a moment, in a daze over just how much he likes you. He wonders, would you be shocked to know he hasn’t had sex in much longer compared to you? One and a half months for you? That’s nothing to him. He’s been besties with his right hand for at least six months by now. Trust him when he says that it truly was difficult to not turn into a hormonal idiot when he saw you in the shop that day.

Finally, he shakes himself out of the spaced out horny brain staring at your ceiling and stands to his feet. He’s quick to adjust the bulge in his jeans, uncomfortably shaking his leg before looking toward where you walked off to.

“Um.” He stops realizing you were watching him, looking directly at the spot he just adjusted. “I mean,” He tries to start again, adjusting again as he feels it slowly move out from its tucked place. “Listen,”

“No, I get it.” You say, snickering at his embarrassment as if he somehow doesn’t know you were suggesting at least some foreplay by moving to your room.

“Of course you do,” He drops his head, now blatantly shoving his hands down his pants to adjust before looking back up and taking a step forward. “You’re the one who sat on me like that.”

“Please, I didn’t even sit on it.”

“Didn’t need to.” He shrugs, now coming up to you and waiting for you to guide him through your space and into your room.

Once the two of you get there, him not even attempting to hide that he is very aroused at this moment, you’re very quick to turn to face him once he comes inside.

“We are on the same page, right?” You ask, looking at his lips and the way they still look so kissable.

“As far as I know, with all things considered.” He responds, looking down at himself and how pathetic he must seem in getting so aroused by nothing more than a kiss and a position change.

You smile, reaching for his hand and watching him tumble forward to you. Now standing mere inches in front of you.

“Do you want to see it?” You ask, a cheeky smirk on your face as you turn away from him and run to your bedside table.

He had no idea what the fuck you were referring to until he saw it. There, in all of its non-human glory. Jihoon tics his tongue, curiously straining his neck out to peek at what else is in your drawer as he walks closer.

You make no attempt to close the drawer and instead pull out another one, and another one, another one.

“If you keep pulling out toys I’ll start to think you were lying in saying you wanted to feel something more, um–”

“Real?” You say, turning from your presented line-up of toys to look at him.

He nods, gazing over the toys, four dildos all far bigger than he is.

“I can admit that men can’t vibrate, nor do they have those little rotating beats but,” You chuckle at the conversation, scooping the toys up quicker than you laid them out and tossing them back into the drawer. “They’re not warm, or attached to someone that can kiss me. They’re also not witty.”

You study his expression.

“They don’t make me laugh before getting me off.” You continue, wondering if you may actually be too forward about this now.

He’s rendered a bit speechless, which is rare for him in any given situation. He always has a quick response, not at this moment though as he looks at you. He wonders if you pity that obvious act of self-doubt upon seeing your toys.

“They’re not attached to you.” You add, this time stifling your chuckle, because it’s a pretty funny conversation if you look at it from the outside but you can imagine he must be feeling some type of way to be so quiet.

He thinks hard about it, knowing damn well where this was leading and pushing for it himself. Hearing you now though, so confidently say these things, all doubt erases from his mind.

“Before we do anything,” he starts, his shaky voice coming out more confident as he continues. “Is this just a hook-up to you or are you feeling the way I’m feeling right now?”

You look at him with a question in your eyes. He was kind of shocked that you didn’t finish for him this time, actually.

“Like, you know if we do this, I’m going to be calling to take you out to dinner at some point unless you say you don’t want me to, right?”

You hadn’t thought of anything past him since you’ve gotten here. You didn’t think about anything more than hanging out with him, and now, kissing him, and maybe you know, feeling him. For some reason though, despite the lack of sex you’ve had lately, him saying that only arouses you more. It’s been so long since you’ve intended to sleep with someone and have them want to stick around after. Some of the people you’ve been with didn’t even ask for your number. Is this what adult relationships are actually like?

“As in, you’d want to see where this goes in the–”

“Future, yes. I’m not just going to fuck you and pretend I didn’t when I see you again.”

Shockingly, that’s a first for you and you like the feeling it gives you. Plus, him implying that he’s about to, or very willing to, fuck you sends a wave of fondness through you.

“Alright. Let’s not call it a hook up then.” You say, the playful arousal from before stifling out at the idea of being intimate with someone who is making you aware that you’ll see him again, now being replaced with…feelings? Arousal with feelings?

“What should we call it?”

“A date?” You say back immediately, sitting on your bed and finally closing your bedside drawer.

“Oh, you fuck on the first date?”

You laugh at how quickly his wit comes back, especially with the way he crowds up and stands in front of you.

“With you? I guess I do.” You smile wide for him, feeling the tension bleed away and replace itself again with the arousal of him standing and looking down at you.

“How did we not meet earlier?” He asks, leaning down a bit as if to kiss you.

“Fuck if I know, I bought all of those toys at your shop.”

“Ah, right. Nine in the morning on a Monday. I don’t usually work mornings.”

“Guess I got lucky last time then.”

“I guess you did.” He adds like a period to a sentence, finally kissing you again and making no effort to hide the fact that he’s attempting to lay you down much like you did to him before.

You let him, falling back on your bed and feeling him nudge your legs to spread. Again, you let him, feeling your heart begin to race with excitement in the way he kisses you now versus how he did it earlier.

There is clear intent behind it this time, as he positions himself between your legs. Your heart only races faster when one of his hands slides down your shoulder and he tangles his fingers with yours. It’s all very intimate to be coming from a man you officially met today, but you really do feel lucky.

Lucky that he works two jobs, lucky that your family throws lame ass reunions every five years, lucky that you had your lights on during a sunny sunday afternoon, lucky that your battery died.

It’s so normal already to smile into the kiss and feel giddy inside. Never have you smiled into a kiss save for laughing when a leg cramp happens mid-fuck. You can’t believe how much you’ve smiled and laughed today, and you can’t believe he’s making you react this way just by holding your fucking hand and kissing you this way.

He laughs when you react though, probably feeling at ease on your bed with you under him, squeezing his fingers tightly each time he licks against your tongue. And when he pulls back to breathe, you just look at him and the way his fringe hangs. He looks so pretty at this angle, even when he’s moving slowly, even when his other hand remains planted beside your head to hold his weight from falling onto you.

It’s not been since highschool that you’ve laid with someone simply making out, fully clothed, giggling. You’re unsure of how he’s pulled this out of you, because usually when a man is on top of you, you’re already trying to get his clothes off. But this? This is something that you want to last. You want it to be slower than a usual fuck, because you like when he’s here with you. Whether on top of you or not, there was a reason he’s stayed this late already and you already know it wasn’t solely to fuck you.

“Did you expect to be on top of me someday?” You ask between kisses, and he takes that as an invitation to laugh against your neck and tickle your cheek with his messy hair.

“Expect it? No,” He starts, leaving a kiss just under your ear before lowering his lips to the collar of your shirt and kissing there too. “Hoped I could, though.”

Your heart swells up at that. You realized he must have meant it when he admitted to having a small crush on you. Only now do you realize that curiosity that brought you back up to the food-table during the reunion may have been the start of a crush on your end too.

You don’t say anything more after that and instead fall into the feeling of his lips kissing alone your collar. For some reason the sensation of his lips pushing the fabric out of the way so he can kiss new exposed skin makes you feel incredibly wanted. Maybe it’s the pace, or maybe it’s just because you really really like him, and want him to want you.

“Do you want to take it off?” You ask after a few more of his kisses, wanting to control yourself but also very much wanting to feel his lips everywhere else too.

You can feel him nod in the form of his hair tickling your cheek more. But he doesn’t move from that spot at first, continuing to kiss you the same way and in the same places. You let him, up until he finally sighs and pulls back.

Looking at him now, even compared to a few moments ago, he looks so fucking pretty. His eyes are now soft, you can almost see the lines from where he’s smiled for you all day at the creases of them. His lips, looking more kissable than they did the past two times you thought they looked as kissable as they ever could. His eyebrows, showing no signs of tension.

You’re staring and you’re not intending to hide it. Even as he lifts your shirt from your waist and starts to pull it up. You barely budge as you stare, and stare, until you can’t because he’s trying to pull your shirt over you head.

“If you’d stop staring for two seconds maybe I could get this off of you, yeah?” He laughs, finally pulling it off when you arch your back and then prop yourself up slightly with your hands. “There.”

He sighs when he says it, going silent and almost frozen at the image of your nearly-naked torso. You watch him stare now, a smirk forming all too quickly.

“Now look who’s staring.” You chuckle, noting that his eyes still don’t leave the newly exposed skin or the fabric of your bra.

“Yeah, I am.” He admits, wetting his lower lip again and then flicking his eyes to you. “Am I not supposed to?”

Suddenly, that eye contact makes you feel shy. You’re more naked than he is, despite mostly being dressed still.

“You know,” you start, avoiding his intense eye contact just to get the words out. “If we just take all of our clothes off now, it would probably be easier.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle at you but nods, already lifting his shirt off and going for his zipper and button.

“There’s no rush, but if you’d prefer we do,” He scoots back and away from you, standing to his feet to shove his jeans down his legs. “I don’t mind.”

You watch him undress and lose all ability to act on your own for a solid thirty seconds before you finally start panic-shimming the rest of your clothing off. Save for bra and panties, and he, now standing there clad in only a pair of form-fitting briefs.

You’re glad he isn’t as shy as you at this moment though, or rather, he appears to be entirely infatuated with your body and doesn’t look away from it for even a moment to feel embarrassed himself at standing on the side of your bed nearly nude.

“No rush?” You ask, when he finally trails his eyes up to you and takes his position between your legs from earlier. Except now, you can see his biceps and the way they flex, now, you can feel the immense amount of warmth radiating from him. Now, his hair is even more of a mess.

“I can try,” He says quietly, balancing on on hand and lowering his lips to yours once more, trying to ignore how dangerously close his length is to bumping against your pussy. “No promises now, though.”

You laugh, wondering where he lost his self control within that short span of time where you got undressed. He cuts your laugh off mid-way though, now kissing you again and moving his hand up and down your waist. It tickles and causes goosebumps to form all over you, to the point that you can’t help but sigh into his kiss.

He continues, still holding his hips back from grinding against you, kissing you as good as he can until trailing back to your neck again.

It’s not until you run your fingers through his hair that he sighs himself. That relief and heavenly feeling of your fingers scraping the back of his neck— Such a simple touch can literally send him straight to hell at this point and he wouldn’t care a single bit as long as it’s from you and your hands.

He lowers himself more, just to prevent his hips from intruding into this moment only to lock his lips onto the mound of your breast, other hand lowering so he can lay down and push your bra to the side a bit.

The cold air that hits your nipple is short-lived when you feel him immediately suck it into his mouth with a deep breath. You continue to scratch through his hair, now using your other hand to nearly hug his head in place as you feel the sensations shoot straight between your legs. Each flick of his tongue sends signals to your brain to go! go! go! But much like him, you hold back, even though your legs still manage to squeeze his body between yours in an attempt to find the friction he isn’t yet offering.

He continues this for a few minutes, and then works his fingers under the bra on the other side of your chest before switching his lips to that one. Perking them up so perfectly that he can graze his teeth against either nipple and feel your legs react to it. All of it is turning him on beyond belief, it’s dangerously attractive to him now too, to know that you have several toys that could have already gotten you off by now, but you choose this. You choose his lips playing with your tits, and your legs doing an amazing job of showing him your lack of control.

His lips continue their work, up until he’s trailing further and further down, making your sighs hitch higher and higher in pitch. He kisses your ribs, just above your belly button, then just below your belly button before leaning back.

There, he looks directly at the seat of your panties and smiles at the wet spot there. He plants a kiss right there before climbing back up and caressing your cheek again.

“You’re wet.” He comments in a huskier voice than he normally uses toward you, balancing yet again on his other arm.

Before you can actually respond, his hand on your cheek disappears and is instantly cupping your entire pussy.

You hitch out a sigh and look at him with a smile.

“Obviously.” You say back, rolling your eyes playfully before unintentionally bucking your hips into the pressure his palm offers against your clit.

“Cute too.” He adds, lifting his palm to run his fingers up the wet spot on your panties before pressing in slightly.

You can feel them stick to you uncomfortably, but it still feels so fucking good. Any amount of touching from him feels good though.

“And you’re teasing me.” You argue, looking away from his playful smirk as he plays with the wet fabric against his fingers.

“Just ask. I’m not teasing you if you're not telling me what you want.”

You shoot your eyes back to him, a mixture of curiosity and shock in your eyes. It’s true though, you are a little shocked. Most men really just do what they want, and so do you. Never have you been asked what you want.

Your eyes trail down as far as they can, what his hand is doing is mostly hidden between your legs but you focus entirely on the way his arms flex as his fingers travel up and down your panties.

“You want me to ask?” You question, hips bucking up again unintentionally.

“Not so much ask, but like, tell me what you want.”

He nods to himself as he says it, licking his bottom lip and pressing the fabric of your panties in yet again.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to do what he wants right now though, definitely not. He just figures you know your body far better than he does, and he’d rather not make assumptions and embarrass himself when you could just ask him or better, guide him. Who is he to assume you want his fingers right now anyway?

“I’ve never…” You start, swallowing your words as your brain goes back to focusing on his fingers momentarily. “I haven’t–”

He knows what you’re trying to say, so he attempts to make it a bit easier for you.

“Do you want me to pull your panties to the side?”

You sigh with a nod, looking at him and allowing him to guide you through telling him what you want.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

You nod again, pushing your head back against the mattress out of frustration that you, for some reason, can’t find the confidence to just tell him.

He listens to your body though, more than your weak nods and frustrated sighs. The way your legs shake when he asks, the way you react to the air hitting your folds when he does push your panties to the side. He can’t bare to look down yet though, because he knows for a fact that if he were to pull back and look at you in full, he’d no longer be asking you what you want. He’d be embarrassing for sure.

You can feel his fingers now sliding through your folds though, bare pussy out and on display but not yet being looked at, only being felt. And arguably, all you can do right now is feel too, as he leans forward to kiss you in this silent moment.

His fingers continue to explore as he kisses you, collecting all of your arousal and swirling it around your clit before sliding back down and prodding at your entrance. You make a sound at that, kissing his a little harder than before when he lets out a hum.

“Hm?” He hums against your lips, and you nod to him.

There, he dips a finger in only slightly. Your arms reach around his neck at the feeling and pull him closer to you. To the point that you can feel him struggle to angle his hands right to slide in deeper, but you pay no mind to it. At least not until you kiss the fucking daylights out of him.

That, you do. Kissing him with full-force and making a show of how turned on you are for him. He feels it though, with or without your kiss bruising him. The wetness on the tip of his finger only becomes wetter, and when you release your grip around his neck, he still doesn’t leave the kiss.

He goes back to gently kissing you, focusing more on your fingers than what his tongue is doing. He slides that same finger in all the way now, feeling your walls clench almost instantly and beg for more. Chuckling at the feeling, he fucks his finger into you experimentally before pulling them out and adjusting two fingers at your entrance.

“Hm?” He hums again, and you nod again.

So, two fingers slide in and you’re releasing a soft moan against his lips. Already out of breath from focusing so hard on how he feels when he touches you. Your lips fall slack just to catch that lost breath, and he doesn’t argue, going right back to that spot on your neck to kiss as he picks up rhythm with his fingers. Effectively fucking you open with them.

You hate to say you didn’t pay much attention to his hands until now. Having not noticed how deep just those two digits reach inside of you, and good fucking lord does he know how to use them too. Curling them up at just the right moment to have you legs shaking.

Never have your legs fucking shook for a man. This only happens with the g-spot stimulating toys. God, you open your eyes to look at the ceiling in thought, and it has you wondering if he even knows he’s doing it.

“Keep doing that–” you urge him, and he hums at you finally at least trying to tell him what you want.

He finally lifts from your neck to look at you, now placing his weight back on that one free arm that had been toying with the ends of your hair this entire time, and he’s fucking floored. Even if he pictured you before with those toys, none of those images came close to this. And it’s just his fingers? No where near the size of your toys, no where near as expensive, or warm…or alive.

Oh. You want to feel someone who wants you.

“I’ll do anything you want.” He says, doing exactly as you asked except a little faster now, still hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly that you’re moaning out now.

He tunes in entirely to the sounds you’re making, the faces you’re making, and the way your pussy clenches around just those two fingers. He is aching at this point, pulling back from hovering over you to sit now between your legs, fingers still keeping pace, and sliding his other hand down his briefs.

You don’t notice at first, too enthralled by the feeling of his curling fingers inside of you, but when you do–

“God,” You moan, rolling your eyes at the image of him out of breath, both hands working to pleasure both of you. “Come here.”

He listens, already pulling his hand away from himself but keeping his fingers in you, in a daze as he takes his original position of hovering over you.

“No, I mean, come here.” You say, looking at him as you reach between your bodies and pull his fingers out of you, then reach to grab between his legs.

He immediately moans at the feeling, his hips pressing harshly into your grip with a whine as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes just to feel it.

“Take it out?” You continue, slowly becoming more and more comfortable telling him what you want.

Just watching him do what you ask is insanely hot. The way he pulls his cock out seems so natural to him, you suddenly imagine what he must look like all alone while getting himself off. Thankfully though, he’s not all alone right now, he’s with you, and you intend to be getting him off.

You look at him, between his legs, and then back at him once more before grabbing it again and practically pulling his hips to you by the cock. He groans all the same at it though, and only holds his breath when he feels your legs spread further and essentially press his cock between your folds and hold it there from the head.

“Grind.” You say, still holding your hand in place to keep the pressure against him, which also puts pressure against your clit when he does grind up.

You both shiver at it, and he still looks down at you, fucking smiling through his sighs of relief regarding the new sensations you’re offering.

“You’re actually fucking perfect.” He compliments, fucking his hips up and coating his cock with the dripping of your core.

Out of everything he’s ever said to you up to this point, out of everything he’s fucking done to you, that’s the one thing that has you spiralling into a world of fucking fire. It makes you feel so warm, especially with the head of his cock bumping your clit. He has barely gotten any friction and he is still calling you perfect? Sign you the fuck up, forever, actually.

“Don’t be stupid,” You start, waving him off between moans and gripping his shoulders.

He grinds up harder at your words though, now propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing your face on both sides.

“You, don’t be stupid.” He says clearly, pointing his thrusts directly at your clit and moaning only slightly as he looks at you.

You swear, at that moment he could see your entire life. Everything about you. Everything you love and hate. The way he doesn’t look through you but at you?

“You’re actually insane.” You laugh, crumbling to his pointed gaze and thrusts, your legs automatically shooting up to wrap around his waist.

He seems proud of being called insane right now. Mostly because he can come up with at least fifty reasons as to why this is anything but insanity, but he remains quiet at the feeling of your legs squeezing around him.

Such a girl was looking for mundane sex toys to have normal sex with? Lucky you, this is his fucking favorite. Plain ‘ol missionary? Check. Legs squeezing around him, almost pulling him in? Check. Looking directly at the face of the person he wants to make feel good? Check.

You barely notice his lack of control by this point, the closeness alone feels like you’re already having sex but you realize you’re entirely empty still. This is fine though, until it’s not.

When does it not become fine? When his confident moans turn to soft sighs, and you notice his arms shaking a bit to hold his weight above you, and when his eyes go dead staring at you. You can tell he’s focused entirely on the feeling between the two of you, doing nothing more than aggressive yet…weak grinds?

“Jihoon,” You say, slightly out of breath.

“Hm?” He responds half-heartedly, releasing his weight from one elbow and dropping his head between your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

It’s like you can feel the switch in his head go from losing sanity to gaining it back in an instant at those words. He felt like he was pleasuring himself against you for so long, with so much friction between your hand and his abdomen consistently pressing into it. He could have come from this, if you wanted him to anyway. It would have been an intense orgasm after working up for so long, but now?

He doesn’t even say anything, he doesn’t even move his head from between your neck and shoulder. Instead, you feel him expertly adjust his hips and press in without much trouble. He finds exactly where he belongs so fucking fast that is has you spinning and clenching immediately.

“Fuck,” He drones out with a long sigh, slowly sinking his cock into you. “You’re throbbing.”

You chuckle, because yeah. You definitely are, but so is he. You can feel his thick length spreading you open inch by inch, until he’s fully planted into and twitching. Then he doesn’t move again.

“This alone could do me in,” He chuckles against your neck, breathing in a deep sigh and attaching his teeth to your lower ear lobe. “Honestly, I can't believe I didn’t already come just from having my fingers in you.”

You’re both flattered and shocked by this comment, before you can even think to respond he’s talking again.

“You’re so tight, so wet.” He soothes himself through the feeling of your walls clenching around him, not yet wanting to move and just wanting to feel what your body does to him on its own. “It’s so hard not to move right now.

“Please,” You manage to get out, struggling to focus on just one thing with the way he’s talking and the way he sits so perfectly inside of you. “Please, move.”

And he does, instantly. Pulling out and sliding back in so easily that the slapping sound is muted entirely by the matching moan you both release. You can feel his voice vibrating against your neck, and you can imagine he might be able to feel yours through your literal pussy, because it feels like every sound, touch, and sensation is sent straight there for him to enjoy.

It doesn’t stop either. Both of you shamelessly moaning at the feeling of him snapping his hips into you at perfect speed, with a perfect voice, and a perfect hand moving up to grip your chest.

He’s practically blanketing you with his body, your legs holding him in this spot, his hair still finding a way to tickle your cheek with each thrust in. It’s so fucking much. It’s so good, and so…comfortable.

You’re comfortable. So comfortable you don’t even feel the need to rub your clit, you don’t want to chase the orgasm, you just want to feel him. And apparently, so does he.

When he lifts his head, kissing the bottom of your chin and then your lower lip, still the two of you are groaning at each deep thrust in, but he manages to talk through it, somehow.

“Don’t stop,” he says, despite you barely doing anything. “Keep doing that.” He continues as his thrusts pick up pace.

Only now do you realize that you were doing something. Without noticing, your hands were nearly tearing his back apart. Not literally, but your nails may have dug in a few times. Normally, once you notice doing that, you would stop because normally men don’t want the trace of another woman on him. Jihoon though, he’s in love with seeing remnants of you tomorrow.

Obsessed with the sting of it, loving the idea of going to his night-job tomorrow and staring at all of the toys that don’t offer you a back to hold onto like this.

You do as he asks much like he does for you, gripping him so tightly that your nails have no choice but to leave half-moon shapes on his skin. Each thrust drags your fingers up, down, up down, and with each thrust it somehow feels deeper, harder, hotter.

When he releases your chest from his other hand and puts it back to your cheek, caressing much like he has each time he’s focused on kissing you, you think you’re a fucking goner.

As expected, he kisses you at that moment and thrusts once, hard, before holding himself there.

“I’m really close,” He whispers apologetically between kisses, “tell me how to get you there with me.”

You smile when he kisses you again instead of letting you answer, but you fall into it much like he does and you opt to grab that hand on your cheek and guide it to your clit.

Instantly, he’s rubbing harsh and sloppy circles around it, and you reward him for the perfect work of his fingers yet again with your fingernails digging into his back. He softly moans at that, and you swallow it up all too easily.

Tensing your muscles, his fingers on your clit work you up so quickly that you go barely warn him of your oncoming orgasm, even as his cock sits leaking and heavy inside of you. You don’t even know how to tell him, all you can do is frantically moan out shortly.

“I’m–”

Instantly his hips are back at work, barely even thrusting but instead remaining buried into you for the most part. He pulls out an inch and slams back in, wanting your orgasm to get him off more than his own movements. And fuck, it does.

The way you clench when you reach your high, slack lips against his own, he releases at what he could argue is the best possible time. Your tenses muscles work him up perfectly, gently massaging his cock as he releases in full without too much overstimulation.

And you. You have never gotten off with a man staying mostly still inside of you. Actually, you’ve only gotten off that way with toys because nothing beats getting off while completely filly. Jihoon really is something, or, someone.

The two of you released together, and his lips fell slack just like yours did. The kissing turned to that of desperate, orgasm-fogged moans into the other’s mouth. For some reason, it was incredibly hot to you that you both reacted that way. So insanely drunk on the other that nothing felt embarrassing.

Even the way his fingers moved on your clit through your orgasm, he somehow knew when to go and when to stop.

Even now, as your orgasm tapers off, you are so blissfully aware that you want to immediately fall asleep even with him inside of you. Jihoon is polite though, and gently pulls out with a small apology of the mess.

When he looks at you, looking so sleepy under him, maybe it translates to him too and he instantly yawns but tries to be strong for both of you.

“We should clean up.”

There wasn’t even a question in your head when he slept over that night. He didn’t even hint at leaving. Nor did he hint the morning after as you groggily opened your computer for your daily work.

He did hint that he would miss you when he eventually had to go to his own house and get ready for a day at the sex-shop.

He also hinted a few times at feeling like, when he looked at you, you weren’t a brand new person in his life. Part of you wonders if that’s because maybe you want to be permanent in his life from now on.

Later that night, he came back. Bright eyes and a stinging back.

For some reason, you feel it’s safe to say that neither of you can stand being apart for too long. So yeah, maybe this is what a normal relationship is like. If, you know, you were in a relationship with him.

Ironically enough, only a few days later that relationship is established in the form of a new car battery and a bottle of lube that he bought for you.

Not that you need it. (The lube.)

#woozi smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #jihoon smut #lee jihoon smut #lee woozi smut

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