#how do you tag things. I am so sleep it is past my bedtime

[ambiguousgrass]

Who up dying for they country (<- phrase that sounded wayyy better when I was repeating it in my head while drawing this.)

Ctommy fanart for @haunted-here for the @mcyt-valentines event!!! Hope you enjoy :D

Tag list, let me know if you want off/on

@faggotdonnie @its-arson-time @thepinkboi @comfortstars @dapsie @cishetctommy @blueyedgrass

[wheresarizona]

Learning to Live Part 16

summary: It’s obvious Javier Peña loves you, it just catches you by surprise how he decides to finally tell you. 

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Soft Javier Peña, alternating pov, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie(s), oral sex (f & m receiving), rimming (f receiving), cockwarming, overstimulation (m), spanking, dirty talk, praise kink, nude photos, Javier begging, love confessions, miscommunication, arguing, angst with a happy ending, period typical sexism, canon typical drug talk, emotions, dysfunctional family, past relationship trauma (Javier), Not Lorraine friendly, Javier’s poor little ass being bruised, Javier being so in love, the most romantic sex I have ever written)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (reader is a nurse with no physical descriptions)

word count: 17.8k+ (This is who I am)

a/n: Here we go! The first draft of this chapter was 3k… I’m as shocked as you are. I know some of the tags aren’t my norm, but I promise it’s a good time and things are resolved quickly. Shoutout to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing this. I love you. 

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

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The time you spent reading had dwindled quite drastically since Javier Peña waltzed his way into your life, and you weren’t necessarily upset about this new development. 

Generally, you’d get home from work, shower, have dinner, then unwind by reading or watching a movie, wanting to relax after the busy day. Getting a couple of chapters in before bed was a must, needing it to lull you to sleep; that is, you did, up until Javi showed up, and now your bedtime routine had changed to either getting fucked and being so blissed out that sleep came easily, or laying in bed cuddled up with him while the two of you talked, getting so warm and cozy that you found yourself drifting off in no time.  

So, you weren’t getting much reading done, and your to-read pile on the living room bookshelf was haunting you, knowing that at the rate you were going, it’d probably take you years to get through the dozen or so books. 

It was a sunny Saturday, and not at all surprising that you’d awoken to a naked Javi pressed against your bare back, his hands ghosting over your skin while his lips trailed over your shoulders and neck, making you smile as you came to. 

He’d eaten you out until your legs were shaking, and the sheets below you were wet from your release, Javi telling you he’d take care of washing them after breakfast. 

God, there was something about a man taking the initiative. 

The windows in your apartment had been opened to let the early sunlight in and to air out the place; Javi not only putting the sheets into the wash but also replacing the bedding and folding the laundry that had been in the dryer, all while you’d tackled organizing the three junk drawers in the kitchen. 

It took everything in your power not to suck his dick when he asked if he’d folded your panties okay, knowing you had a special way of bundling them up. You’d approved of his efforts and smothered his face in kisses, him looking very pleased with himself. 

When your task was finished, the drawers finally organized, and Javi extremely happy with what you’d done now that he knew where he could find things, you’d decided to spend the afternoon reading. 

Settling on the couch, your legs curled underneath you, you’d opened to the first chapter of a book you’d gotten almost two weeks prior. Javi was sitting beside you, so close your bodies touched, his hand on your thigh as he watched tv with the volume low. 

This was another very welcome change in your life. 

None of your ex-boyfriends would have wanted to spend their Saturday morning cleaning your apartment, then be content to just sit on the couch and watch television while you read. 

They would’ve wanted to go out and do something, not waste their day lounging around, always needing to be active when they weren’t working—if you wanted to just relax and spend the day in, you were left to do it alone. 

But Javier Peña was different. 

All he wanted was to spend time with you, and he didn’t care what you did. 

Want to go to the diner for breakfast? He’s down. The farmers market? No problem. Run errands? He’ll drive. Clean the apartment? Tell him what to do, and it will be done. Relax on the couch and read? You’ve got cable, and there’s a Lethal Weapon marathon that will keep him entertained. 

Honestly, he was clingy, just not annoyingly so. You found it endearing and adorable how he had to be touching you if he was sitting next to you, a hand on your thigh or feet in his lap, and he loved when you’d lay on top of him; showering with you was essential after work, he honest to god pouted if you took one alone; in bed, you always ended up wrapped in his arms, him seeking you out even in sleep, needing you close. He never let you cook alone, him wanting to help, or at least keep you company, if not distract you a little with some impromptu dancing. 

Here you were, cozy on the couch, Javi rubbing circles into the skin just below where your shorts stopped, so caught up in what you were reading you weren’t entirely sure how much time had passed. 

The book was surprisingly good and had sucked you in; an orphan boy finding out about a secret magical world and his life changing for the better, reading page after page, chapter after chapter, wanting to know what was going to happen next. 

“Want more water, Cielito?” Javi asked. 

“Yes, please,” you murmured, eyes glued to the words, but knowing you’d finished your glass in the time you’d read six chapters. 

“I’ll be back.” 

He squeezed your thigh, groaning as he got up from the couch. 

At some point, he returned to set down the cup on the coffee table, letting you know it was there and noticing he didn’t sit back down. 

You were engrossed with the story, fascinated by the magic and world-building, and metaphorically on the edge of your seat when suddenly the light of the television was blocked by a mass, realizing Javi was standing in front of you. 

“Need something?” you asked, eyes not leaving the book. 

“No,” he answered. 

“Okay,” you distractedly answered. 

He didn’t move, which made you realize he was trying to get your attention. 

“Want something?” you asked instead. 

“Maybe,” he replied. 

Glancing over the pages, he was standing there with his hands on his hips, noticing his damp hair from showering, your eyes taking in the nakedness of his broad shoulders and moving down his chest and soft belly to the tantalizing trail of hair that you knew led to his big di—your eyes went wide when they landed on his crotch. 

“Underwear,” you breathed. “Oh my fucking god.” You blindly reached on the table beside you to grab your bookmark to shove between the pages, the book practically getting thrown onto the tabletop. 

Your eyes were stuck on his bulge, the white material hiding nothing, seeing the clear outline of his cock, your hand moving without thinking, reaching to touch your fingertips to it, and seeing him noticeably getting harder. 

“Holy fuck,” you said, maneuvering on the couch to get on your knees. You took in how they sat on his hips and hugged his thighs, rubbing both your hands up them, feeling the soft material and his muscles flexing, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “You fucking spoil me,” you purred. “This is what you grabbed before we left last night?”

The previous night you’d met Javi’s father for the first time, and everything had gone better than you expected, Chucho making you feel welcomed into their family. When you were leaving, Javi had run back into the house for something, and you hadn’t bothered to ask, so caught up in all you’d learned about your boyfriend and his parents. 

“Yeah,” he answered, a smirk on his plush lips, looking proud of himself. You couldn’t help pressing your face against his half-hard cock. “If I’d known I’d get this kind of reaction, I would’ve—fuck,” he groaned as you mouthed over him, wetting the boxer briefs with your saliva. 

Pressing a loud kiss to his now fully hard dick, you grabbed his hips, leaning back to forcefully make him turn to see how he looked from behind, but he didn’t budge. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, confusion showing on your face when you met his eyes. 

“Let me see your ass,” you said. 

He was frowning. 

“I liked what you were doing.” 

“And I’ll blow you after I see your butt. I need to know how it looks.” 

Grabbing your hands, he held them. 

“Or I can eat your pussy?” he bargained. 

Your eyes narrowed, realizing something was up. 

“Why are you being cagey about this? What’s going on?” 

He sighed, looking away, his thumbs rubbing circles on the backs of your hands. 

“I just don’t want you looking at it.” 

“Because..?” 

“I got bit by a horse…” he said slowly and matter of fact. 

It was just hitting you that you hadn’t seen his ass since showering after work the previous day. He let you shower by yourself the night before, which you should’ve found suspicious. If he didn’t want you to see it, that meant he knew you were going to freak out, worry swirling in your stomach. 

“Javier, how bad is it?” Your tone was serious. 

He grimaced. 

“It looks worse than it is.” 

“Turn around.” 

“Baby…” 

“With the way you hate clothes, I’m going to see it. Pull off the bandaid, babe. Let me see your ass.” 

He let out a long sigh, dropping your hands to perch his own on his hips, slowly turning. 

Fuck, he looked amazing in the underwear, the way they clung to the globes of his ass, it taking everything in you not to grab handfuls of him, wanting to squeeze the little bit of butt he had. 

Your fingers moved up to the elastic waistband, sliding them under and slowly peeling them down, gasping when you saw his right asscheek. 

“Javier Peña, you fucking liar!” you exclaimed, staring at the large black and purple bruise that had to hurt like hell and was about the size of his fist, and his hands were so fucking big. “Please tell me you washed it with soap and water,” you said, automatically going into nurse mode, examining as best you could, needing to make sure he was okay and that it wouldn’t get infected. “Do you want me to pull out my first aid kit? I can put some antibiotic cream on it, and are you up to date on your tetanus shot?” You leaned in closer, gently feeling it. “I can’t tell if he broke the skin, and it can be transmitted through animal bites. Shit, babe, it looks so fucking bad.” 

“I’m okay, Cielito,” he sighed. “Washed it when we got back to Pop’s and got a booster the first time that fucker bit me,” he seethed. 

“Javi, be real with me. Are you in pain? I can’t believe you sat next to me for hours! Your poor little butt. Do you need some Tylenol? Want me to ice it?” 

“It’s fine, baby—I can handle it.” He twisted his upper body to look down at you behind him, his eyes rounded. “I promise I’m okay. Just fucking sore.” He frowned. 

“Let me get you some pain medication then,” you said, starting to get up, but he stopped you with a shake of his head. 

“Already took some—I’m good.” He gave you a reassuring smile. 

Your eyebrow quirked.

“You really took some Tylenol to make sure you could fuck, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah,” he answered with a smirk. 

“And you really thought you could hide your ass from me while wearing underwear? Javier, you know how I feel about your butt.” 

“Love it as much as I love yours.” 

“Exactly! Oh!” you exclaimed, remembering something. 

Leaning forward, you pressed a loud smacking kiss to his bruise, followed by smaller ones all around the area, Javi chuckling. 

“Does it feel better?” you asked, meeting his gaze. 

He smiled, “Yes, Cielito,” he replied. 

“You’re a lying liar who lies,” you accused amusedly. Smiling at him mischievously, you said, “I do know something that will definitely take the pain away, but it has to be administered orally.” You grabbed onto his tiny waist and made him turn around, his cock still hard in his underwear. “God, just look at it,” you marveled. 

“Fuck, baby,” Javi groaned, his head falling back. “Keep looking at my dick like that, and I’ll need to put it in you.” 

He looked down to meet your eyes, seeing his own had gone darker, his cheeks and chest pinking up.  

“I want you in my mouth,” you replied, stroking him over the boxer briefs. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed hard. “Can I, Javi?” you asked. “Can I have your dick in my mouth?” 

“Yes, Cielito,” he answered, the words coming out rough. “You can have anything you fucking want.” 

Smiling, you hooked your fingers into the waistband, slowly pulling them down to uncover his straining cock and heavy sack, wanting to taste and feel him, your mouth watering at the prospect. 

“Have I ever told you,” you started, eyes locked on his as you took him in hand, feeling him hard and hot in your palm. “That you have the prettiest dick?” 

The head of him was reddened, a pearl of precum beading at the tip, stroking him up and down. 

“Fuck,” he gasped. 

“I dream about this dick,” you continued. “Fucking crave it. Want you inside me—my mouth, pussy, ass.” His eyes squeezed shut, groaning loudly, his cock twitching at your words. “You’ve ruined me for all other men, no one could ever compare, but that doesn’t matter because I only want you.” 

He met your gaze again, pupils blown wide. 

“It’s yours,” he rasped. “It’s only fucking yours—I’m yours, you fucking own me.” 

Hearing him say that had your body going warm, your pussy throbbing. 

“And I’m yours—all of me belongs to you, Papí.” 

A strangled noise came from his throat, his cock twitching in your hand again. 

“Take what you want, Cielito.” Desperation was in his tone. “Fuck, do whatever you want. Please.” 

Precum was steadily flowing from him, helping your strokes glide. Letting go, you licked your palm, taking him back in hand and gathering spit in your mouth, hovering your head over him as it dripped onto the tip. He groaned when your mouth followed, the heft of him sliding along the broad flat of your tongue and relishing in his taste, moaning around him. 

Your hand continued to work his shaft while your head bobbed, letting your saliva coat him, hearing the slick sounds as you worked him over, moans and groans filling the room. His hand went to the back of your head, his eyes on what you were doing, looking up at him as you licked from base to tip, and swirled your tongue around the crown, his mouth falling open in a gasped fuck. 

Moving back down again, you went lower, drawing a ball into your mouth, sucking on the delicate skin, Javi moaning loudly, his eyes squeezing shut with furrowed brows. 

“Shit, baby,” he panted. “So fucking good—so good to me.” 

At the tip, you let more spit fall onto him, taking him back into your mouth, your hand like a sheath around the base of him, pumping easily from how wet it was, while your head bowed forward, letting him hit the back of your throat before swallowing him down. 

He was breathing hard, his fingers digging into your hair as his hard cock carved out space in your throat, tears pooling in your eyes, saliva dripping out the corners of your lips. His dick was so solid, loving how it felt inside you, humming appreciatively around him that earned a punched-out groan that shot straight to your cunt, making you clench hard. 

You were so turned on, loving the noises he was making and hearing just how much he was enjoying himself. 

“Gonna make me come,” he groaned. “Don’t wanna come down your throat.” 

Coming off of him, you were panting, his dick glistening as your hand wetly stroked him. 

Looking up through your lashes, seeing his attention on you, you asked huskily, “Where do you want to come? My face?” You pressed your breasts together in your shirt. “My tits? On my ass?” 

“Fuck,” he breathed, his eyes wild, looking wrecked with his pinched brow and the gorgeous flush all over his skin. “Wanna be inside you.” 

A grin turned up on your lips. 

“Of course, you want to finish inside. You’re fucking addicted to cream pies.” You rubbed your hands up his thighs, feeling the muscles tighten. “You like coming inside me, baby?” you asked. “Love filling me up—knowing you’re the only one who gets to?” 

His cock jerked. 

“Shit, fuck,” he gasped. “Yes, please, Cielito.” His eyes had gone round, pleading. “Please, baby. Can I fuck your pussy? Wanna feel you come around my dick—wanna fuck you full of me. Please.” He was begging, and it thrilled you, your cunt pulsing with want, panties drenched, wanting him as bad as he wanted you. 

“How can I say no when you ask so nicely? Javi, baby, you have to know I want you. My pussy is all yours.” 

He was on you immediately, his big hands cupping your cheeks as he bent to press his mouth to yours in a hungry kiss, his tongue eagerly licking into your mouth. 

It was almost disorienting how quickly he got your clothes off; his lips leaving yours to tug off your shirt and sports bra, pushing down and off his underwear, laughing when his hands grabbed onto your ass, and he practically picked you up, manhandling you onto your back on the couch, his hips slotting into the cradle of your thighs. 

He kissed you deeply before sitting up on his knees between your legs, a look of concentration on his face as he pulled off your shorts and panties in one go, dropping them to the floor. 

His eyes were locked on your pussy, moaning when he spread open the glossy lips of your sex with two of his fingers. 

“Fuck, that’s pretty,” he murmured, his other hand stroking his cock, hearing the slick slide of his hand working. “Look at how fucking wet you are for me, Cielito.” He slid a thick finger through your slit, pressing it inside your sopping entrance. “Mmm, you’re fucking soaked. Bet you don’t even need my fingers.” He pushed in a second, and you gasped, bucking your hips into his hand. His eyes met yours, all dark with want, languidly pumping his digits. “Want me to get you off like this, baby?” 

Shaking your head, you answered in a moan, “No—want your dick. Wanna feel it. Love the stretch.” 

He smirked. 

“Always hungry for my dick.”

“Yes.” You nodded. 

His fingers left you, watching as he sucked them clean with a groan. 

“Taste so good,” he said, pulling them from his mouth with a wet pop. “Keep your legs open—don’t move.” 

He moved toward the coffee table, reaching to grab the Polaroid camera that had been gifted to you both the day before, your heart hammering in your chest, realizing what he wanted to do. Your lip was pulled between your teeth as he looked at you. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, holding up the camera. 

“Yes.” 

“Press your tits together for me.” 

Doing as he said, he leaned back, holding the Polaroid camera up to his face. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said, the flash going off, the device whirring as the picture came out.

The photo was put on the table, Javi’s free hand spreading open your pussy, dipping his head down, his jaw working as he spit onto your clit, getting a shot of the hot saliva dripping down to your opening.

You were so into what he was doing that your cunt was throbbing in tune with your heartbeat. 

“I’m gonna fuck my hand looking at these,” he murmured, setting the picture with the other. 

“Really?” 

He glanced at you, smiling. 

“Oh, yeah. If I jerked off right now, I’d be thinking about this tight little pussy.” He cupped his large palm over your center. “Now, I have visuals. Wait—” His hand moved to grip his dick, knees shuffling to get closer so his thighs were flush between your legs, letting his cock drop onto your mons and stomach to see how far he’d reach inside. “Look at that.” The flash went off again. “Shit, what’s that thing you say about your guts?” He asked, meeting your eyes, the photograph getting placed with the others. 

Saliva and precum were smearing onto your skin, feeling how hot and hard his dick was. 

You snorted. 

“That I want you to rearrange my guts?” 

“Yeah.” He smirked. “I get so deep in there; I really do rearrange your guts.” 

You noticed his chest puffing up a little in pride, and it had you lowering your voice to speak in a sultry tone. “Yes, you do,” you purred. “You’re so big, making me feel so full. No one else has ever filled me so good or gotten so deep—only you, Papí.” 

His cock twitched. 

“Fuck,” he gasped. “One more.” 

He pressed his length through your folds to get himself wet, notching at your entrance, your eyes squeezing shut as he pushed in, moaning in unison. 

That first stretch was always the best—the slight burn, the way he made space for himself inside your depths, your inner walls hugging him close and pulling him deeper. He slid home in one smooth thrust, your back arching at how fucking good it felt to have him filling you.

“Fuck, Javi,” you breathed. 

The camera went off, and you knew it was a picture of him inside you, making your cunt clench. 

“Shit,” Javi groaned. 

There was the sound of him setting the camera down on the coffee table.  

His big hands gripped your thighs to hold you open, rocking his hips, letting you feel his thick cock move slowly in and out of you. 

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he rasped. His hand pressed to your lower stomach over where his dick was inside you. “Always take me so fucking well.” 

“So good,” you whined. 

He was sliding along all those spots that made your toes curl, loving how full you felt, how deep he went, filling you so perfectly it took your breath away. He sped up, getting into a steady rhythm that had his hips slapping into yours, hearing the rough sounds from his throat and the wet suck of your pussy taking him. 

You were panting out breaths, feeling the heat in your belly starting to build with every deep kiss of his cock inside you, pushing in and pulling out, your head fuzzy with pleasure. He pressed his thumb against your clit, making you gasp from the shock of ecstasy shooting to your core. 

“Want you to come for me,” he said through gritted teeth and heavy breaths. “Wanna feel you, Cielito.” 

It felt like every nerve in your body was lit up, your skin hot and buzzing, the fire in your core growing hotter and hotter while soft sounds spilled from your lips. 

You were getting closer, moaning louder, it building higher and higher. 

“I know you’re almost there—fucking fluttering. Give it to me.” 

He was thrusting harder, his thumb moving faster. 

“Soak my dick, Cielito. Come.” 

His order had you shattering, coming with a cry of his name, your body clenching up so tight he had to slow to a grind, letting out a long, low groan. 

“My good girl,” he said thickly. “So fucking good to me, baby. Shit.” 

Waves of pleasure radiated through your body, him drawing them out with every thrust, letting you ride it out, your pussy pulsing around him. 

She was so fucking gorgeous, spread out for him on this couch, his eyes locked on her pussy, all wet and puffy, swallowing his dick to the hilt. He took in her body—the sheen of sweat on her skin, her eyes closed, lips parted, her perfect tits rising and falling as she panted. 

She looked absolutely blissed out, pride swelling in his chest that he was the one to make her feel like that—that he was the only one that got to feel her come while balls deep inside her. 

Fuck, his dick was throbbing, heart pounding, knowing he was close to his own end, waiting for her high to subside, shallowly thrusting into her wet heat. 

The moment her breathing got under control, and she relaxed, Javier was pulling out, seeing her eyes spring open in surprise. 

“Want you on your knees,” he grunted, grabbing her legs that were bracketing his hips and helping her flip onto her belly, pulling her ass up by the waist to get her into position, shuffling her knees apart so he had more space. 

And if it wasn’t the prettiest sight, seeing her all open and ready for him, his tongue peeking out between his lips, wanting to taste the slick that had dribbled down between her asscheeks to her tight hole, mesmerized by how it shined in the light of the room. 

Looking over her shoulder, their eyes met, causing a sharp spike of arousal to shoot down his spine at her lust-blown gaze. 

“You gonna fuck me?” she purred, wiggling her backside. 

“Maybe,” he replied, seeing her eyebrows crease in confusion. 

His knees sunk into the couch cushion as he shuffled back a little, slapping both of his hands down on the plump flesh of her ass, hearing her moan as he grabbed handfuls, squeezing it hard and spreading her open. 

“Fucking love this ass,” he growled.

He bent his head, gathering spit on his tongue and letting it drip onto her asshole, following that up by licking a stripe from her entrance back up to the tight ring of muscle, groaning into her sensitive skin at the salty-sweet tang enveloping his tastebuds, her tasting so good. 

“Oh, fuck,” she whined. 

His hand moved to squeeze the base of his cock, needing to restrict the blood flow and calm himself down, the flat of his tongue lapping at her hole, feeling like fire was prickling under his skin, hungry for more of her taste—working himself up almost to his breaking point, needing to stop before he stained the couch in his come. 

He pressed a kiss to her asscheek before sinking his teeth into her skin, leaving a slight imprint as he sat up, taking his dick in hand, not wasting any time to sheathe himself back inside her drenched cunt—the way she cried out his name made him jerk inside her, and his breath go shaky, a low groan rumbling from his chest. 

Shit, he was so fucking hard he could probably fuck her through a brick wall. 

His fingers dug into her hips, swallowing hard at how tight and warm she was, her pussy fluttering around him, pulling out until just the tip of him remained, and thrusting back in, setting up an even rhythm that had her moaning. 

“Love being inside you, baby,” he groaned, looking down to see his wet cock disappearing inside her. “Push back on me—get me deep.” 

“Yes,” she gasped, pushing her ass back, Javi meeting her over and over, the wet slap of their bodies colliding sounding in the room. 

He wanted to get her off again, but pleasure had his stomach knotting up, fucking into her harder, the tight squeeze of her cunt overwhelming him, compelling him, making him lose his fucking mind at how good she felt—he was fucked, gone, he’d hit the point of no return, his balls tightening up. 

“Shit,” he grunted, pounding into her, “fuck, fuck, fuck, no.” 

His cock thickened, pushing into her hard one last time, a strangled moan ripping from his throat, his come flooding her hot depths, gushing into her. He rolled his hips with a shuddering hiss to get it deeper until it was too much for him, coming to a stop while euphoria coursed through his body. 

He felt wrung out and dreamy, wanting to touch her, needing to feel her skin, practically collapsing as he blanketed himself over her back, shoving his nose into her neck to breathe her in. 

“‘M sorry,” he slurred. “Mmm, you smell so fucking good.”

She giggled. 

“You came really hard, huh, baby?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” He nuzzled his face against the side of her head, holding himself up on an arm beside her own, and moving his other hand under her body to the apex of her thighs, feeling her tense when he rubbed her wet clit—his dick so tender that when she clenched around him, his eyes rolled back in his head, moaning at the sensitivity. 

He was panting, sweat soaking his skin, pushing through the discomfort of her pulsing around him to keep circling her swollen nub—her arms and legs trembling, soft sounds spilling from her mouth as he worked her up, her body crumbling to the couch, him going with her, using one forearm to keep his upper body off of her.

His cock was still hard, it feeling like his nerves were on fire, shallowly thrusting until the pain became pleasurable again, the familiar heat building in his gut. 

He pressed his lips to her ear, asking through gritted teeth, “You gonna come for me, Cielito?” His hips fucked into her faster. “Gonna be my good girl?” 

“Yes, Papí,” she whimpered. “So, close.”

His eyes squeezed shut at the knife-sharp pleasure that cut through him from her words, his wet strokes moving in and out of her, his insides getting hotter and thicker as he built her up—her mewling beneath him, stoking the flames in his belly. 

He kept going, feeling her pussy contracting, arousal dripping down his dick and coating his balls, her finally seizing up beneath him as she came choking him inside her and squeezing him so tight that it sent him with her—the pressure inside him expanding to the point Javier was coming with a shuddering groan, pulsing inside her, pumping her full of himself. 

Pleasure washed through him, grinding his hips, the slide of his cock making his come leak out and around him, stilling when it all became too much. To make her more comfortable, his arm wrapped around her middle, him turning them on their sides while he stayed inside, spooning her from behind. 

The TV's low volume and heavy breaths filled the room, Javi kissing her bare shoulder, rubbing his hand over her belly, and moving up to grab her breast. 

“Did you come again..?” she panted. 

“Yeah,” he answered breathlessly. 

He kissed her neck, loving the scent of her shampoo and how it made him feel warm and cozy. 

“That has to be a record. You usually need a break.”

“Finished too quickly, had to make up for it.” 

“...What?” she sounded confused, finally catching her breath. “You were a gentleman and made me come before you. How did you finish too quickly?” 

He buried his face in her hair. 

“Wanted to get you off again,” his muffled voice said. 

There was a pause before she spoke. 

“Babe?” She put her hand over his on her breast, lacing their fingers together. 

“Yes, Cielito?” 

“I know you’re really into making me orgasm so many times my legs turn to jelly, and I can barely speak, but you know one is enough, right?” 

He pulled his head back, eyebrows dipping together. 

“What..?” he asked. 

“We don’t need to have spectacular mind-blowing sex every single time.” 

“Why… not?” His heart had sped up, nerves making his chest feel uncomfortable. “Do you not like how we fuck?” he asked uneasily.

“Pause. Can you pull out real quick?” 

He did as she asked, feeling confused, and worried that he’d done something wrong, her flipping around to face him, pressing her hand to his jaw and looking him in the eyes. 

“Thank god, I got the couch protector. There is so much come dripping out of me right now.” 

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, frowning. 

She smiled reassuringly. 

“Nothing to apologize about. I enjoyed myself very much—all nice and stuffed full.” She beamed, arousal stirring in his belly at the thought. 

Her fingers ghosted over his cheek and up to press into his sweat-damp hair, stroking lovingly through it. Fuck, he loved when she played with his hair; he always turned to putty under her touch. 

“Now, back to what we were talking about,” she said. “I love how we fuck, very much. Like, best sex of my entire life, and you’ve ruined me for anybody else—I love fucking you.” 

He could hear it coming. “But…?” he asked. 

“But, sometimes, I just like how you feel inside me and how close we are, and god, the kissing. It’s the connection and being with you, doing something so intimate. I don’t know. I just feel closer to you when we have sex, baring myself not just literally, but metaphorically, too, because I’m comfortable with you, I trust you, I lo–like—” She stumbled, eyes widening, his heart stuttering “—like you so fucking much. Javi, you’re the only man I’m genuinely okay fucking with the lights on.” Suddenly panic came over her face, her eyes getting big, “Fuck! The windows!” 

She started getting up, and he kept her where she was with his hand on her hip, Javier saying quickly, “I already closed them.” 

Her head rose to look over the couch armrest to the back windows, then in the direction of their feet to the large front windows, seeing that they were all shut with the blinds and curtains closed. 

She let out a breath, moving to kiss him hard, her fingers tangling in his hair. He moaned against her lips, loving her mouth on his, kissing until she broke away, smiling.

“This is what I mean,” she said. “You thought to close up the apartment before initiating sex because you care about me and wouldn’t want to put me in a compromising situation when you know I’m thinking with my pussy.” 

“You’re the one that initiated.” 

Her eyes narrowed, poking him in his bare chest. 

“Because you seduced me by wearing underwear!” 

He smirked, grabbing her hand to kiss her knuckles. 

“I’d think it’d turn you on more if I was naked.” 

Her eyebrow rose. 

“Javier, you’re constantly naked. You put on clothes, and suddenly I’m a Victorian woman going into hysterics over the slightest sliver of skin because I know what’s underneath—the feeling ten times worse when you’re in underwear or sweats ‘cause it’s like you’re teasing me, just Mr. Look-at-me-naked-from-the-waist-up-you-know-what-I’m-hiding. So, yeah, it fucking gets me.” 

He was well aware, able to see her undressing him in her mind, and it always went straight to his dick. 

“I know,” he replied. “Can tell by how you look at me.” 

He kissed her. 

“You fucking tease,” she murmured into his lips. 

“How I feel when you wear your dresses—know I can just lift it up and pull down your panties.” 

He was kissing her deeper, his hand grabbing her ass. She pulled back to pointedly look at him.

“You’re distracting me,” she said, making him pout. “As I was saying, I can trust you, and I like the closeness of fucking you, and every time doesn’t need to be toe-curling orgasm central. It’s cheesy as fuck, and I honestly cringe at saying it out loud, but I’d love to, god—” Her eyes squeezed shut, her face pinched in disgust “—it’s so gross. I’d love… to…” She was really struggling, and he wanted to know what was making her so uncomfortable. “Make… love… with… you,” she finally forced out. “Oh, yuck.” Her nose crinkled when she looked at him. 

The difficulty it took for her to say it had his stomach dropping, insecurity squeezing his chest tight. He swallowed hard, eyes darting away from her. 

“I don’t think you do…” he said slowly. 

“Fuck.” She cradled his cheek. “Please, look at me.” He did, her looking apologetic. “I can see how I came off, and I’m sorry, it’s not you; it’s the fucking phrase.”

“Okay..?” 

He was so fucking bewildered trying to follow along with everything she was saying, not sure what she meant about making love but understanding the things she said about the connection and closeness during sex, he felt it, too. When he’s inside her, it feels like everything is right in the world, and it’s where he’s supposed to be. He just wasn’t sure what she meant about only one orgasm or not every time needing to be mind-blowing—it was all he had to offer. 

Javier was broken, his head fucked from everything with Lorraine and Colombia, trying to do his fucking best navigating this new relationship, not knowing what the fuck he was doing. Cielito tried hard to guide him like a bright star on the horizon, leading him, helping him, but what did he bring to the table aside from knowing how to make her come? He didn’t think his love and devotion were enough; she needed more—deserved more, and all he had to give was his body, wanting to make her feel so fucking good that she wouldn’t want him to leave. 

And she’s not happy with what he has to offer—at least, that’s what he thought she was trying to say. 

The day before came to mind when she told him she felt the same, that she loved him, too, but would wait for him to say it first, and that gave him hope that maybe he just wasn’t understanding this conversation—his worries getting the better of him, which was a problem of his; spiraling, something negative having him play out all of the worst case scenarios and making dread wash over him thinking the other shoe was about to drop.

He took a deep breath, his hand flexing, listening intently, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. 

“You know how people hate the word moist?” she asked. “Like it makes their skin crawl and is just so cringy?” She shuddered.  

“Yeah, it’s the same in Spanish. People don’t like húmedo, which means the same thing.” 

“Love that it’s universal. I have the same kind of aversion to the phrase-that-shall-not-be-named.” 

He was curious. “Why?” he asked. 

“Oh, it’s overused by people who think sex is a dirty word, and ‘fuck’ is just way too profane for their sensibilities, but they aren’t actually… making love.” She cringed. “It’s usually the guy getting off without a care for his partner—so, basically, it makes me think of really bad heterosexual sex, and it’s gross.” 

Javier snorted. 

“This is why we fuck,” he pointed out. 

She grimaced, and he frowned, rubbing his hand over her back, needing to feel her, grounding himself in her comfort. 

“I would like to do the real thing with you…” she said softly.

“I’m sorry…?” 

What did she mean?

“To me, I think it’s the perfect way to describe that really tender, intimate fucking where you’re staring into each other's eyes, and taking your time, just enjoying one another. There’s no rush, no pressure to make the other person come over and over, it’s just being in the moment with your partner and feeling it, you know? I wanna do that with you.” 

His eyebrows were in his hairline. 

“You do?” he whispered. 

She smiled, nodding, “Yeah, I do, very much, ‘cause I don’t know if you’re aware, Javi—I really fucking like you. A lot, and I’d be so into it.”

“Oh.”

He was stunned. 

She stroked his cheek, worry etched on her features as she asked, “Are you okay, babe?”

It took him a second to wrap his brain around it. 

“You don’t care how many times I get you off…” he started. “You just want to have sex with me because you like it… You like me, and not how many times I make you come…?”

That didn’t seem right…

“One orgasm is enough. Multiple isn’t necessary, but sometimes nice,” she answered, shrugging her shoulder. “I like the intimacy and don’t care how many times you get me off. You finishing before you wanted was totally fine—it’s honestly really fucking sexy that you couldn’t hold out, like, fuck, I got you that worked up? Me? Makes a girl feel really good about herself.”

He saw in her eyes that she was telling the truth, and his mouth fell open. 

Her eyebrows furrowed, asking, “Why do you look so surprised?” 

“Fuck,” he sighed, closing his eyes tight. “You like me.” 

“I more than like you, but yes, I do.” 

Hearing her say it out loud made his heart pick up in speed. 

“Shit, I’m so fucking stupid.” 

“Javier, what’s going on?” 

He looked at her, seeing the concern on her face. 

“A long time ago, fuck,” he sighed. “A long time ago, with my ex—”

“What the fuck did Lorraine do?” she cut him off, seething. 

A smile crept up on his lips, warmth filling his veins at how protective she always got over him. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he said, rubbing her back. “It was so fucking long ago, but, uh, one time I came too quick, and she bit my head off about not getting her off.” 

“You made her come during foreplay, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah… Figured it wouldn’t be a big deal, so I let myself go, and she got so fucking mad.” 

“That greedy bitch.” 

“I should’ve seen it sooner—I can’t believe I was so fucking dumb.” 

“About dating her?” 

“Yes. My mom tried to warn me, and I fucking brushed her off because I thought she was just being overprotective ‘cause I was her only kid, su bendición, her blessing.” He sighed. “Pop told me when I came back from Colombia the first go around that they knew she was using me to get back at her dad—he thought I wasn’t good enough and fucking hated me dating her. And it’s taken me over fifteen fucking years to realize she was using me for sex, too. She didn’t want me,” he spat, anger simmering in his gut. “She wanted my body and what I could fucking do with it.” His eyes were beginning to burn, pressing his hand to Cielito’s cheek, swallowing hard, his voice thicker when he said, “You want me. You like me. You care about me, and I thought the only fucking thing I have worth anything to give you in return is my body.” A tear rolled down his cheek. 

“Javi,” you gasped, tears brimming your eyes, so utterly upset by what he just said. Guilt had your chest aching, thinking about how he’d wanted to take things slow at the beginning—the three dates he wanted to go on before sex, and now it was dawning on you how important that was to him. “I really fucking hope I haven’t made you feel like all I want from you is sex—you know, right, that I more than like you, and the sex is just a bonus?” 

“Cielito, baby, I know.” He stroked your cheek, his eyes rounded. “Our relationship is so fucking good, and I’ve felt every goddamn day since I met you how much you care about me. It’s just—” He sighed “—in the back of my mind, I wonder what the fuck I have to offer you?” 

It broke your heart how he didn’t see his worth, answering quickly, “You, Javi, not your body, but you, just you,” you said. “You cherish me, you care about me, too, and show me every day with the things you do and say that aren’t even sexy. Do you have any idea how much I love that you wanted to spend time with me today while I read? It made me so happy because none of my exes would’ve wanted to do that, and you keep my water refilled, which is so fucking romantic. I like your company. I like being with you and talking to you. I like everything about you, even if you get into your head sometimes.” You smoothed your hand through his hair. “But Javi, I more than like you a lot, and you give me so much—offer me so much of yourself, and I have never been happier in my entire life.”  

“It’s enough?” He asked, barely above a whisper, and you could see the worry in his eyes. 

You took his hand from your face, lacing your fingers together. 

“It’s more than enough, it will always be enough. You’re enough.” 

His eyes were rimmed red, smiling as he crushed his mouth against yours in a searing kiss that lasted until your lungs protested with a need for oxygen, Javi pulling you into his body and holding you close. 

Learning about Javi’s past over the last two days had given you a clearer picture of who he was and what he’d been through. He was like a puzzle that, since the first time you spoke, you’ve been putting together piece by piece, starting with the edges—him telling you some of his favorite things and about his job with the DEA; a large chunk in the middle coming together with the story of Lorraine, filling the rest of it in with little clusters of information he’d revealed, and at this point, it was almost completed, there was just this one big empty part in a corner that was still missing—Colombia, and all of the horrors he’d gone through. One day he’ll tell you, and you’ll be there to hold him tight and kiss away the memories. 

Time passed, both of you cleaning up, getting dressed, putting the couch protector in the wash, and ordering food to be delivered. 

The entire pizza was eaten, the box lying open on the coffee table with six empty beer bottles surrounding the cardboard. You were sitting in Javi’s lap, his arms wrapped around you with your head resting on his bare shoulder, the man only wearing sweats as you both watched the first Lethal Weapon movie, the marathon having started over. 

The characters work for the Los Angeles Police Department, one of them being a sergeant in the narcotics division, and it had you wondering something while you watch. 

“Javi?” 

“Yes, Cielito?” he asked, kissing your hair. 

“What made you decide to become a cop?” 

He took a deep breath. 

“You know how we’re on the border with Mexico?” 

“Yeah?” 

“There’s a fuck ton of drug smuggling. I couldn’t show you all of Pop’s land, but the Rio Grande runs along it, and if you go out to the edge of the property, sometimes you can spot people on boats.” 

“Maybe they’re fishing? Enjoying the sun? Not all boats on the river are smugglers...” 

“Right.” He didn’t sound convinced and frankly a bit paranoid. “Well, somehow, even with a heavy fucking border patrol presence and the DEA breathing down their necks, drugs are getting into Laredo—my money’s on the river.” 

“I can tell. So, you’ve just always hated drugs?” 

“No.” 

“No?”

Turning your head, you looked at his face, Javi meeting your eyes. 

“When I started elementary school, I didn’t speak a single word of English—had no idea what the fuck anyone was saying. They had me in the ESL program, but my regular teacher didn’t know Spanish, and I struggled. The kid I shared a desk with helped me.” There was a sad smile on his lips. “His name was Neil, and he came from one of the wealthier families in town, so he had a nanny who’d taught him some Spanish—he was my first best friend. If you remember from the photo albums, the random white kid with the curly brown hair, that was him.” You nodded. Chucho had said it was Javi’s friend when you’d been going through pictures, remembering him popping up through the ages they were in elementary school, not recalling if he was in any of the later photos. “As we got older, we drifted apart. His dad’s a hardass. He got into high school and pretty much wasn’t allowed to do anything that wasn’t academic or fucking extracurriculars ‘cause his dad wanted him to get into a big university. It was a lot of pressure, and he started smoking pot freshman year to relax—he got me to try it.” 

You gasped dramatically. 

“Javier, you snorted the mari-j-uana? You? A narc?” 

His eyes narrowed. 

“Did you just call me a fucking narc..? Snorted..? You don’t snort weed, baby…” 

“That’s something a narc would say,” you teased.  

He pinched your thigh, making you giggle. 

“I smoked it and didn’t like it. Not my thing—prefer booze.” 

“Like the narc you are,” you said, kissing his cheek. 

Javi sighed. 

“By junior year,” he continued, “he was under a lot of pressure, and I guess he asked his dealer for something stronger.” He inhaled deeply, letting the air out slowly, before he spoke again, “Kid overdosed.” 

“No,” you gasped for real this time. “I’m so sorry, Javi.” Throwing your arms around his neck, you hugged him, Javi pulling you closer. 

“Yeah, it was fucked.” There was an edge of anger in his tone. “They caught the guy who sold it to him, but at that time, police didn’t give a fuck about cocaine possession, pretty much got a slap on the fucking wrist, and they didn’t bother finding out his supplier. A great fucking kid with his whole life ahead of him, dead, and the man who caused it was out before I went off to college—didn’t sit right with me that Neil didn’t get any fucking justice.” 

“And so you helped take down Pablo Escobar and the Cali Cartel—Jesus Christ, Javier, you don’t fuck around. I think Neil would be proud of what you accomplished.”

“Maybe.” 

The frown was evident in his voice, leaning back to look at his face. It was clear what he was thinking, asking him, “Why don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

His eyes were on yours, “There’s still all the shit here.” He swallowed. “I was asked to go to Mexico after I took down Cali, but I was so fucking tired of all the bullshit.” 

You could see the exhaustion, sliding your fingers through the hair above each of his ears. 

“Babe, you’re one man. I know you want justice and to right all the wrongs, but you can’t single-handedly dismantle the drug trade—you did more than enough. Rest, let other people handle it.”

He let out a long sigh. 

“You’re right, Cielito.” He smiled softly. “I’ve got you now, and I’m so fucking happy about it.”

You smiled back. 

“Good,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him. 

When you pulled back, he asked, “What made you want to be a nurse?”

“Oh, when I was eight, my appendix burst, and I had to be hospitalized.”

“The scar,” he said, touching your belly. 

It was so long ago it was barely visible, it surprised you he’d even noticed. 

“Yeah, the scar.” You smiled. “My mom stayed home with my little brother, and aside from my dad being the doctor he is, checking that the surgery was done properly and I was healing okay, I was in the hospital alone for almost a week.” 

Javi was frowning. “Nobody was with you…?”

“Nope.” You shrugged. “But, this lovely nurse who had the daytime shift would keep me company as much as possible and make sure I wasn’t lonely. She was wonderful and so fucking funny. I just knew I wanted to be exactly like her—I wanted to make being in the hospital less scary and people smile even when they’re feeling miserable. So, nursing.”

His hand came up to cup your jaw, looking deep into your eyes. 

“It’s the perfect job for you—you’re so fucking warm and bright that I know people love you taking care of them ‘cause I sure as fuck do.”

It felt like you were melting at the sincerity in his voice. 

“That’s very sweet of you, but you’re not my patient,” you said. “You’re my boyfriend and get special boyfriend treatment, they just get silly jokes and compassion.”

“What’s the special boyfriend treatment?” He asked, head tilting in interest. 

“Cuddles, kisses, naked stuff, food, basically anything you want from me is yours.”

He pulled you in for a kiss, saying into your lips, “I like the sound of that.”

“I’m glad.”

He broke the kiss, meeting your gaze with a frown, “I’m, uh, gonna be honest—your family has left a bad fucking taste in my mouth, and I’m happy to meet them or talk to them on the phone, but I don’t know how I’d handle them treating you like shit.”

“Well, we’ll have to figure out different plans for Christmas, then.”

His frown deepened. 

“You don’t have to skip because of me...”

“Oh, don’t worry.” You waved away his concern. “You’re giving me an excuse, and I’m taking it. It’s bad enough I talk to my mom once a week or so—if I was strong, I’d go no contact, but I’d feel too guilty.” 

His eyes were big, the honesty showing as he said, “Whatever you choose to do, baby, I support you, and know that my family will welcome you with open arms.” 

“Are you sure?” you asked softly. 

He smiled, “Oh, yeah. Pop loves you, and I know everybody else will, too.”

“That makes me happy.” 

“You make me happy.” 

Laughing, you replied, “You’re so fucking cheesy, but—” you moved your face closer to ghost your lips over his “—I more than like you, a lot.” 

“I more than like you a lot, too.” He closed the space kissing you with such passion that you knew what he said was true, those three little words screaming in your brain. 

The sun was high up in the sky, the straw cowboy hat atop his head keeping it out of his eyes. It was hotter than hell today, the heat making sweat rise on his skin as he walked over the neatly cut grass, taking the same route he’d taken hundreds of times before, ignoring the slight ache in his knees. 

He came to a stop, groaning as he bent down a little to wipe away some dirt that had accumulated on top of the grey stone with one hand. The white leather ring box was slightly discolored from age, not as pristine as it once was. Chucho set it down where he had just cleaned, popping it open, the diamonds on the ring sparkling in the sunlight. 

Straightening, he said, “Mi amor, nuestro Javiercito conocio a una chica maravillosa (My love, our Javier met a wonderful girl).” 

His eyes tracked over the engraved letters of Antonia’s name, imagining how she’d react to the news, seeing so clearly in his mind that bright smile he’d loved so much and her excitedly saying, ‘Háblame de todo (Tell me everything).’ 

A smile was on his lips when he continued, “Yo la amo y tú también la amarías (I love her and you would love her too). Él va a casarse con ella y limpie tu anillo de compromiso para cuando él lo quiera (He’s going to marry her, and I had your engagement ring cleaned for when he wants it). I’m probably jumping the gun,” he chuckled. “Pero sabes que soy un romántico (But you know I’m a romantic).”

“Ojalá pudieras ver lo feliz que está con ella (I wish you could see how happy he is with her). Todo sonrisas, mi amor (All smiles, my love). Los que nos perdimos y pensé que nunca volveríamos a ver (The ones we missed and thought we’d never see again).” 

His eyes were starting to water, feeling his throat get tight. 

“Él está contento otra vez (He’s happy again). Ayer pasé horas con ella y ella es perfecta para el (I spent hours with her yesterday and she is perfect for him). Ella es amable, y muy divertida (She is kind and very funny). Puedo ver cuánto lo ama (I can see how much she loves him).” 

He chuckled again, thinking about what Javi’s Cielito had said the day before. 

“Ella dijo que mataría por probar tu comida (She said she would murder to try your food). Hubieron cocinado juntos y Javiercito los habría distraído a ambos (You would have cooked together and Javier would have distracted you both).” Chucho laughed. 

“Ellos son buenos juntos, mi amor (They are good together, my love). Me recuerdan a nosotros y estarán juntos para siempre, también (They remind me of us and they will be together forever, too).” He pressed a hand to the stone. “Te amo, mi media naranja (I love you, my soulmate). Déjame contarte sobre mi semana (Let me tell you about my week)...”

One month later…

The cordless phone was pressed to your ear, using your shoulder to keep it in place while you cooked, not paying attention to what your mother was saying, seeing as she’d been going on and on for the last—you checked your watch—fifteen minutes about how perfect your little brother was and all of the amazing things he’d done since the last time you spoke a week prior. 

“...and they’ve decided to try for another baby,” your mom gushed, unable to stop the look of disgust on your face.

“Wow, that’s so exciting,” you replied, not sounding excited at all. 

It was honestly such an odd thing how couples were so happy to announce they were having unprotected sex to their friends and family. 

Javi was running late coming over after work because he had an errand to do. The sauce was simmering in the pan, the noodles boiling, and the side salad was already prepared in a bowl on the kitchen table. 

“It’s high time you started thinking about settling down,” she said, making you groan, not wanting to have this discussion. “You know, your father was in Boston this weekend at a surgeon’s conference—he was the keynote speaker and ran into Daniel—Dr. Andrews. I miss Daniel, he was so wonderful and talented. I heard he’s up for an award for a new procedure he invented. Whatever happened between you two?” 

Daniel Andrews was a cardiothoracic surgeon you’d met five years ago while working at a hospital in Dallas. He was pretty with his blue eyes, perfectly styled hair, and clean-shaven face, honestly surprised he’d taken an interest in you, and so you’d dated for about six months—him even meeting your family, but it definitely wasn’t meant to last. 

“Remember he had the accident?” you replied. 

“What accident?” 

“When he slipped and fell into another nurse’s vagina.” 

“That is so vulgar!” She sounded appalled, and it made you smile. “Why are you like this? If you weren’t so… independent, you could find a nice doctor to settle down with, have his children, and become a stay-at-home mother like your sister-in-law.” 

“Wow, mom, it’s not the fifties anymore, and some women like having careers and don’t want to make motherhood their entire identity. I’m happy she loves being at home with her kids, but that’s not something that calls to me—I love working, and if I had children, I’d keep working after they were born, and my partner and I would have equal responsibility taking care of them.”

She scoffed. 

“It’s the mother’s job to rear the children while her husband provides for the family.” 

“I think you personally just caused a regression in women’s rights, and another thing—” You were getting heated. “—I don’t need to meet a ‘nice doctor,’ I’m dating a wonderful man, thank you very much.” 

“The farmer?” The disdain was evident in her tone, and it pissed you off. 

With how your parents had welcomed your exes and how charming Javier was, you assumed they’d like him, too, especially since he’s so amazing. It was your mistake to make assumptions because when you finally revealed you were seeing someone, and your mother asked what he did at the hospital, finding out he didn’t work there, she was not very welcoming and outright dismissive of your relationship. 

“I’ve told you multiple times he’s a rancher—Javier told you he’s a rancher on his dad’s ranch.” 

She’d talked to him one night when he’d answered your house phone, and to your absolute horror, she’d grilled him about his job and how much money he made before you could take the receiver from him. 

“Right, but he isn’t a serious relationship—just something to work out of your system, and eventually, you’ll meet a man who makes actual money and can take care of you.” 

Your blood was boiling, rage making your heart pound, absolutely done with the bullshit. 

“We’re very serious, for your information, and I don’t give a flying fuck how much money he makes because I can easily support the both of us with only my job, that I, a woman with a degree, work!” you yelled. There was the sound of knocking on the front door. “Well, I’ve got to go. My very serious boyfriend, who I plan on marrying, is here! Have a nice night, mother,” you spat, ending the call, the phone thudding across the counter. 

Quickly, you were heading out of the kitchen, relief washing over you when you pulled open the door to find Javi standing there with a concerned look holding a small bouquet of sunflowers. Seeing him and the flowers, Javi always bringing you a new bouquet every Monday had you going soft. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I thought I heard yelling?” 

“My mom,” you sighed, anger flashing across his face. 

“Fuck.” He stepped forward to pull you into his arms while still holding the sunflowers, walking you into the apartment and closing the door with his foot, hugging you tight in the entryway. 

Leaning back, he held your chin with two fingers, moving to kiss you so tenderly it made your heart squeeze. Breaking it, he looked at you with round eyes, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked. 

His presence had calmness spreading through you, so happy he was there. 

“I’ll tell you while I finish making dinner.” 

“Okay.” He nodded. “I’ll take care of the flowers.” 

You smiled. “You’re the best.” Quickly kissing him, Javi toed off his shoes by the front door and emptied his pockets in the bowl on the console table in the entryway, following you back into the kitchen. 

You moved the sauce to a cold burner before getting the strainer out of a cabinet, putting it in the sink, and pouring in the pot of noodles while your boyfriend discarded the dead flowers currently on the dining table into the trash. He grabbed scissors, expertly trimming the stems on the new ones before sidling up next to you to fill a clear glass vase with fresh water. 

It was nice how comfortable the two of you moved about the kitchen together, Javi bumping his hip against yours and kissing your hair to make you smile, him waiting for you to start talking. 

Sighing loudly, you finally spoke, “Like, because I’m not a fucking doctor, the next best thing for me to be is the wife of one, popping out kids and raising them.It’s just so fucking sexist.” 

Javi was listening while he arranged the sunflowers in the vase. 

“It’s fucked up,” he mused. 

Shaking out the rest of the water from the pasta, you continued, “Don’t get me wrong, stay-at-home moms work their asses off, but I never saw myself being one—I wanna be a nurse in a hospital, doing the thing I love.” The noodles were put back into the pot and onto the stove, pouring in the sauce, Javi taking the flowers over to the kitchen table and setting them in the middle. “It’s just so fucking exhausting not being good enough.” 

Arms wrapped around your middle, Javi hugging you tight, his mouth at your ear as he whispered, “Fuck what your mom thinks. You’re incredible and hardworking. No one gets to tell you how to live your life.” 

It had you going gooey, tears threatening to spill, stirring the pasta. 

“Thank you, baby.” 

He kissed the side of your neck. 

“You’re welcome.”

“Dinners ready.” 

“I’ll get water for us.” 

The dining room wasn’t much of a room but more of an attachment to the kitchen that featured a two-person table and a window that you’d shut the blinds on so you had privacy while you ate. 

The salad bowl was next to the flowers, Javi sitting across from you, each with your plates full of food.

“How are Daphne and Velma?” you asked before taking a bite. Those were the two calves Javi had basically raised from birth that you both jokingly called your bovine children.

A sweet look came over his face, smiling as he said, “Our hijas (daughters) are doing great with the rest of the herd and picked up grazing quickly, but I knew they would.” 

He sounds like a proud father, and it makes you wonder if he’d be the same with his human children, deep down, knowing he would—he’d be a fantastic dad, ignoring the sting of sadness that he doesn’t want to be one.

Grinning, you reply, “We’ll have to go have a picnic with them next weekend.” 

During the week, sometimes you’d meet Javi out at the ranch after you got off work, and the two of you would sit in his dad’s backyard eating dinner with the two little cows lying down next to you both. With them now out on the land, it’d require a horseback ride, but you loved the picnics and the two girls, who were like giant puppies, always happy to see you guys. 

“They’d love it,” he replied. “Any other news?” Javi asked as he started digging into his food with gusto. 

“You know, the same shit,” you answered, waving your fork. “Mandatory fifteen to twenty minutes of waxing poetic about my brother. Oh, he’s fucking his wife raw now.” 

He choked, coughing as he grabbed his water to take a big drink. 

“Sorry!” you exclaimed. 

Setting the glass down, his voice was rough, looking confused, “It’s okay—why do you know that..?” 

“They’re trying for a baby—like people just broadcast that? ‘We’re trying for a baby,’ wow, thank you so much for letting me know you’re only serving cream pies. My boyfriend fucks me raw on the daily, too. Love when he comes inside me, but I’m not telling my fucking parents.” 

His cheeks were flushed, clearing his throat while he reached across the table to hold your free hand. “Baby, are you okay?” he asked gently. 

“Yeah, sorry, it wasn’t a good phone call—it’s never a good fucking call, and recently they’ve been worse.” 

“I’m sorry.” His thumb stroked over the back of your hand, frowning as he said, “It’s all my fucking fault.” 

“Don’t say that,” you replied in a serious tone. “It’s not your fault, and you’ve done nothing wrong. They’re too fucking stuck up, and after today, I think I’m done trying—there’s no point with how set in their ways they are.” You were getting angry again over what your mother had said. “I won’t fucking sit back and let anyone talk shit about you, my family included, so they can get fucked. I’ve got you, and that’s all that fucking matters.” 

His eyes were misty, squeezing your hand, saying barely above a whisper, “You’d choose me?” 

“I am choosing you. Zero hesitation. Next time she calls, I’m letting her know if she says anything negative, then it’s over, and I won’t be answering anymore.” 

He was giving you that look, the one where you could see in his eyes how much he loved you and that he was struggling not to just blurt the words out loud. 

“You know I support you,” he said thickly. “Whatever makes you happy.” 

“You make me happy.” 

He chuckled. 

“You make me happy, too. Want me to eat you out after dinner?” 

That had you perking up, nodding your head, “Yes, that would be wonderful. I planned to serve you ice cream for dessert, but if you’d prefer pussy…” 

He crookedly smiled. 

“I always prefer pussy for dessert,” he said, winking, making you laugh. 

Focusing on eating, it was quiet as you forked bites into your mouths, Javi groaning around bites. He ate like he hadn’t eaten all day, which you knew was a lie. 

“Slow down,” you giggled. 

“No. It’s too fucking good.” 

His plate was empty before yours, serving himself up seconds and finally taking his time. 

He was very nonchalant when he spoke like it wasn’t anything to get excited about, his eyes on his plate, saying after swallowing a bite, “I start a new job next month.” 

The sentence had you pausing, your fork inches from your face now in limbo. Your eyebrows knit together, eyes narrowing, trying to process the words, thinking maybe you’d misheard. 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” you asked. 

“I start a new job next month. Is this a new recipe?” 

“Yeah… what do you mean a new job? Like something different at the ranch?” 

He’d told you he was happy working for his dad, finding the manual labor pretty relaxing compared to what he’d been doing with the DEA, and preferring the animals to people. 

“No,” he answered between bites, shaking his head. “Sheriff hired me.” 

“The Sheriff hired you…?” 

Why would he want to get back into law enforcement? He’d been through so much in South America and put it all behind him to live his life, and now he was going back? This wasn’t making any sense to you—the DEA exhausted him, he was miserable, and now he suddenly wants to be a cop again? 

Finally looking at you, he set his fork down, you doing the same. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Since I came back to the states, agencies all over the entire fucking country have been trying to get me to work for them—the Webb County Sheriff has been up my ass about it, making house calls and sending letters trying to get me. I went through all the job offers I’ve gotten, found the one with the best shit, went to the Sheriff today, and told him if he matches it, I’ll work for him. He did.” Javi grinned, looking pleased with himself. 

“Okay…” you said slowly. “I’m proud of you for swindling cops, but why are you getting back into law enforcement? I thought you were done after Colombia? What about your dad, the ranch, Daphne and Velma?” 

“Our hijas (daughters) will be okay. We can keep going out there during the week, maybe a day on the weekend, if you want. They’ve got all the other cattle to keep them company, but they’d love seeing us, Pop, too.” 

“We can do that…” 

“And the ranch will keep going without me—they’ve got it handled. It was time I got a job.” 

“You have a job.” 

“I needed a real job.” 

“Your current job is pretty fucking real,” you pointed out.

He sighed, his eyes darting away. 

“I need a job that I can support you with,” he said. 

That had you so taken aback you jolted. 

What was he talking about supporting you? As you told your mom, you made more than enough money to care of both of you... Shit, your mom. 

“Javi, is this because my mother gave you the third degree over what you do for work?” 

His eyes met yours, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about since we started dating, and your mom sure as fuck didn’t help—but I do need to be able to take care of you.” 

Take care of you? What the fuck? Does he expect you to quit your job? You were literally just so fucking upset with your mother for being sexist, her saying it was the man’s job to provide for his family, and now Javi had your hackles rising; this was so unlike him. 

“I don’t need you to take care of me financially, Javier,” you said carefully. “Things are perfectly fine how they are, and there’s really no reason for you to be getting a new job.” 

You’d thought what the two of you had was great, working similar schedules and spending all of your free time together. If he became a cop, you doubted he’d have that same regularity, expecting he’d work long hours. 

He let out a long breath, pressing his fingers to his forehead. 

“Things aren’t fine, Cielito.” 

Your body tensed, dread coming over you. 

“What?” you asked softly, your eyes beginning to burn, afraid of what he was going to say, automatically thinking the worst, like he didn’t want to be with you anymore, or he was unhappy, maybe that he hated your career. You felt sick to your stomach, pushing your plate away. 

His hand ran through his hair, meeting your gaze. 

“I’ve got money saved from the DEA, and the change Pop pays me to work, but when I think of renting an apartment or buying a fucking house, it’s not enough long term. I’m here all the time, staying over, eating your amazing fucking food, and I haven’t pitched in on your rent and only pick up groceries when you ask. I need a real job to provide you with the life you deserve.” 

You had to take a deep breath, processing what he said because now you were upset that he hadn’t been listening about how you wanted to work and didn’t need a man to take care of you. Not once had you mentioned a need for money, frankly living quite comfortably, and this just sounded like he hated that you made more than him, and he needed to save his ego by getting a better-paying job. 

“Firstly,” you started, trying to keep your voice even, “I don’t need you to pitch in. I’m happy to offer my home and food to you because you’re my boyfriend, the one I more than like, who always pays when we eat out. Secondly, I was employed and completely self-sufficient before you came along, and I am beyond capable of contributing my share and more for both of us. Thirdly, I will not be told that you need to work a dangerous fucking job that you hated, all for the archaic notion that because you’re the man, you need to ‘support me.’ Not in this house, not ever, Javier.” 

His jaw flexed, his right hand clenching, saying in a tone that brokered no argument, “I’m not letting you be the sole provider in this relationship.” 

Your eyebrows shot up, your mouth falling open at his audacity, hitting your fucking limit for this shit today. 

“Excuse me?” Your voice rose. “You’re not letting me?! Why can’t I, a woman, provide for us?!” 

His eyes narrowed in confusion, “What the fuck are you talking about? This has nothing to do with you being a woman. I respect you! I respect women!” he exclaimed, exasperated. 

“You said you needed to take care of me and that I couldn’t support us!” you shouted, your chair scraping across the floor as you stood up, staring down at him with your hands on the table. “That doesn’t sound very fucking feminist, Javier! What, are you going to tell me to quit my job, too?! Have me be your good little housewife who waits on you hand and foot?!” 

His face reddened, scrunching up in anger, getting up from his seat so forcefully it slammed into the wall behind him, “You’re not getting what I’m fucking saying!” he yelled. “You’re turning this into something it’s fucking not!” 

“Then what the FUCK are you trying to say, Javier Jesús?!” 

Your heart was pounding hard, blood rushing in your ears, so fucking angry it had your stomach in knots, not believing your sweet boyfriend was being such a dick. He was mad, too, seeing it on his face and how he was so tense, his hands clenched tight at his sides. 

He knew you hated your mother implying you needed a man to take care of you, and then he decided it was time to show his true colors and that he wanted to do just that—have you rely on him, be the man of the house, and make the most money. You felt off balance because it made no fucking sense. This was not the Javi you knew and loved. Your Javi respected your job, your hardwork, you, and he’d never take away your agency.  

“I’m trying to fucking tell you I love you!” he shouted. 

It felt like time had stopped, your eyes going big at his outburst, stunned—speechless—not imagining this would be how he’d finally tell you those three words you’d been waiting so long to hear. It shocked you so much that the hot anger inside you fizzled out as if you were doused in cold water. 

It was clear how upset he was with the tears in his eyes, lowering his voice, his words coming out thicker from emotion, “I love you so fucking much,” he continued. “I want to spend the rest of my fucking life with you,” he choked on the last word, a stray tear falling down his cheek. His gaze was locked on yours, seeing the truth in the depths of his eyes. “I love you, Cielito, and me getting a job and wanting to pay for shit isn’t me trying to fucking control you, fuck, I’d never want that. That’s not me. It’s not me being fucking better than you either, and it has absolutely nothing to do with you being a woman.” His fingers slid through his hair, his other hand on his hip. “We’re building our future together, and I want us contributing equally—I don’t think it’s fucking fair that you’re taking the brunt of the money shit.” He inhaled deeply. “I want us to be equals—you’re my equal, my other half, my fuckin’ media naranja (soulmate). I want to share my life with you, share everything with you, and live with you in a bigger apartment or a house, fucking anywhere that I don’t have to see Mrs. Hernandez glaring at me like she wants me dead ‘cause you were screaming my name the night before.” 

The last bit had you laughing, tears falling down your cheeks, it all finally making sense. This was your Javi—the man who had the utmost respect for women, hated toxic masculinity, was fair and loved you. He was a good man, the best you knew, and you felt stupid for jumping to conclusions that made zero sense for his character. 

Standing up straight, wiping your eyes, and smiling, you replied, “I love you, too, and I’m so happy you said it.”

He ducked his head, looking a bit sheepish. 

“I was gonna tell you after dinner…”

“Wait, what?” 

Looking at you, he said, “It’s so fucking stupid, and I should’ve told you the moment I knew I loved you, but I was scared. So fucking scared that it was too soon, and it had to be too good to be true, except it wasn’t—it was real.” His hands were on his hips, weight to one side. “A couple of weeks ago, I started figuring my shit out, looking into how much money I had and the cost of living—crunching the fuck out of the numbers. I’ve got a pretty good amount saved up since the government basically paid for everything while I was in Colombia. It’s just not enough for me to retire early—too young. So, it was time for me to return to work because I love you, and we’re equal in everything else, like splitting chores and taking turns cooking. I think we’re pretty fucking good at this relationship shit.” 

“I think we are, too,” you giggled. 

He smiled, nodding, “Yeah, we are. I got the job, and it just felt like everything came together, you know? The universe or whatever the fuck was confirming we’re meant to be together, that it was fucking time for me to just tell you, and I rehearsed how I would say it on the drive here.” He sighed, “But your mom kinda fucked things up, and you didn’t react to my news the way I thought you would…” 

“I’m so sorry, the whole conversation with her was a clusterfuck, and then you hit a nerve.”

“Yeah, some of it’s my fault for not saying the right thing, and I’m sorry for that and also for yelling at you.” He looked at you with puppy dog eyes, a sad frown on his lips. “I didn’t like that shit.” 

Guilt was roiling in your gut, feeling so fucking terrible. 

“Javi, I am so insanely sorry that I lost my cool and upset you. I’ll do better not to let it happen again and make sure that we communicate like adults.” He nodded. “Are we okay?” you asked. 

Smiling, he answered, “Yeah, we’re okay. We’re more than okay.” 

“Good.” You felt relieved, your mouth curling in a little smile. “Wanna know a secret?” you asked. 

His head slightly tilted in curiosity. 

“Yeah?” 

“You told me you loved me before you fell asleep Friday night in Spanish.” He’d whispered it when he thought you were sleeping. “I fucking knew you were gonna break soon,” you said, grinning.  

Flush appeared on his cheeks, scratching at the back of his neck. 

“Shit, I usually wait for you to start snoring.” 

“I don’t snore.” It came out defensive. “You snore,” you accused, pointing at him. 

He smiled. 

“You snore, baby. It’s cute. You wanna know a secret?” 

“Is it that you’re lying about me snoring?” 

“Nope.” He shook his head. “Something better.” 

“Tell me.” 

“Remember that first time we went over to Pop’s last month?” 

“Yes?” 

“That’s the first time que dije te amo en español (I said I love you in Spanish). Told you every night after.” 

He, along with some of your coworkers, had been helping you learn Spanish, which was your second language when you were in school.

“Why is that so romantic?” you asked. “Friday, I said it back in English, but, te amo, mi amor (I love you, my love).” 

He gave you a beaming smile, pressing his hand over his heart.

“Te amo con todo mi corazón—eres el amor de mi vida (I love you with all my heart—you’re the love of my life).” 

There was a possibility you would melt into a puddle, hearing and seeing his devotion for you. Remembering what you were discussing had you sobering up, needing to talk about the matter at hand, worry beginning to well up inside you.

“You’re such a fucking sweetheart! Ugh, I love you so much.” Taking a deep breath, you said, “We’ll get back to being disgustingly in love in a minute. I just need to know why you didn’t talk to me about getting a job? And why you’re doing law enforcement again?” You were frowning, continuing in a softer voice, “You’re going to hate it and be so fucking miserable you’ll end up resenting me.” You worried at your lip between your teeth. 

There was no point in sugarcoating your fear. Colombia fucked him up, and he was still recovering from it; going back to that kind of job again won’t be healthy for him—guilt will eat at you because he’d be doing it for you, and he’d absolutely resent you for it, you didn’t see it going any other way. 

He looked like he’d been slapped. Suddenly, he was moving around the table, his big hands cradling your face, making you look at him. 

“Resent you?” His voice was gentle. “How the fuck—” he choked. “I could never resent you. Cielito, baby, no, I love you too fucking much. It’s nothing like the shit I did with the DEA, I’d be consulting.” His thumbs stroked over your cheeks. “Basically, I’d be doing training and offering my expertise—a fucking office job, really, nothing dangerous, no stress, I get  to choose my schedule, so I lined it up with yours. Pays pretty fucking good, too, and uh—“ He looked a little nervous. “—I thought when your lease was up, we could see about getting a bigger place together.” 

It was a relief to hear that what he’d be doing at the Sheriff’s department would be different from his previous work; now feeling much better about everything and happy, so fucking happy. 

“Javi, I own this apartment,” you said. 

His eyes widened in surprise.  

“What..?” 

“It’s a condo that I bought with cash. The big south-facing windows sold me, and I figured it’d be a better investment than renting,” you answered, shrugging. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Planned on living here at least a year to make sure I loved my job, then wanted to buy a house—need room for more plants and a garden.” 

That was your dream, planning on a little house for just you, but now you’d need something a bit bigger with Javi. 

He looked a little downtrodden, his eyes moving away from yours.

“Yeah, that’d make sense...” 

“Javi?”

Hopeful big brown eyes met yours. 

“Yes, Cielito?” 

“Wanna move in with me, and then we can buy a house together next year?” 

He visibly brightened, thinking his dimpled smile could outshine the sun, a happy chuckle coming from his throat, crushing his mouth against yours, kissing you passionately, reverently, feeling his joy. 

“Yes,” he murmured into your lips. “Fuck, yes. Please. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

Happiness was overflowing inside you, thinking it would seep out of your pores, flinging your arms around his neck, Javi pulling you into his embrace, holding you so close to his body like he was trying to fuse you together, his mouth never leaving yours. 

For so long, you’d known how he felt, seeing it so clearly in how he looked at you, hearing it in the words he said, feeling it in his touches. He may not have said the sentence out loud, but he still made you feel loved regardless. Now you’ve heard those three little words that, when said from his lips, felt like the heavens above had opened wide, showering you in contented bliss, spreading the warm fuzziness through your body, and cementing in your brain that he was it—he was home, and now you’d share a home, a life, and your future with him. 

Javier Peña loved you, and you loved him, and nothing else in the world seemed truer than that fact. 

Neediness hit you like a freight train, wanting him inside you so badly there was a throbbing ache between your legs, Javi greedily licking into your mouth and swallowing your moans, his tongue tasting every bit of you he could reach. 

The tension rose until you couldn’t take it anymore, breaking the kiss, Javi chasing your lips as you leaned back to start opening his shirt's buttons. His hand cupped your jaw, his lust-blown eyes on your face. 

“I fucking love you,” he said, moving to kiss you again, your fingers getting the last button undone, pushing the material off his shoulders, him shrugging it off. 

Grabbing the bottom of your cotton t-shirt, his mouth left yours to get it over your head.

“I fucking love you, too,” you panted, and he grinned, kissing you hard. 

The majority of things Javier and you were on the same page about—pineapple did not belong on pizza, coffee was necessary for survival, Coca-Cola is superior to Pepsi, Star Wars is better than Star Trek—and many more you were having trouble remembering, because you both understood each other so well, that you knew at this moment your clothes needed to come off as soon as possible, and you weren’t making it out of the kitchen. 

There was eagerness, impatience, and kissing as you stripped one another—which probably wasn’t the best decision when Javi was trying to peel off one of his socks and ended up falling backward onto his bare ass, the air leaving him in a grunt.

Your hand flew to your mouth, unable to stop yourself from chortling while standing completely nude, him trying his damndest to keep a straight face, laughter sputtering out of him with a big, shining grin. 

“Your poor little ass!” you giggled. 

The rogue sock was thrown haphazardly, finding yourself pulled down into his naked lap, your knees bracketing his thighs. 

“My ass is fine,” he chuckled, his lips finding yours again. Big hands grabbed the globes of your backside, him saying into your lips, “Your ass is more than fine.” Squeezing it and pulling you forward to feel the hard line of his cock pressed between you, making you rub your wet cunt against him, moaning at how it was hitting your clit just right to have sparks igniting in your belly. 

“Javi,” you gasped. 

Kisses were pressed along your jaw, moving lower to your neck, the roll of your hips coating his length in your arousal. 

“God, I love you.” His voice was muffled in your skin. He ducked his head down, pulling your hard nipple into his hot mouth, you moaning at the sharp jolt of pleasure. 

“Fuck, Javi, let me sit on your dick,” you whined, wanting to ease the needy ache between your legs. 

He came off your stiff peak with a wet pop, meeting your eyes, him looking at you with such a tender expression. 

“It’s yours,” he rasped. “I’m yours—I love you.” 

Every time he said it, a thrill ran through you, a smile immediately on your lips, the happiness consuming you. 

“I love you, too,” you replied, holding his cheeks. “And I’m yours—forever.” 

That had him kissing you, feeling him smiling into it, you pushing on him to lay down flat on his back, keeping your mouth on his. 

Moving to settle yourself over his hips, you held yourself up with one hand beside his head, the other moving between your bodies, lifting up to guide him to your entrance. Sinking down had you both moaning, feeling him stretching you to your limits, savoring the slight burn as everything pulled taut inside you, so incredibly full when you bottomed out. 

He’s been inside you so many times you’ve lost count—double digits? Possibly triple? You’re not sure, and even though you’re intimately familiar with the feeling of his dick filling you, nothing had prepared you for this—it had both of your jaws going slack, your eyes locked on each other, staring in wonder at how perfect it felt. The world faded away. Nothing else mattered but the two of you, your love and devotion; this feeling that mind, body, and soul, you were one person in two bodies, and now you were whole once more. 

“Fuck,” Javi whispered in awe. 

“Do you feel it, too?” 

“Yeah.” He nodded, his hands coming up to your face. His throat worked, swallowing hard, his eyes shinier, voice deeper, raspier, “Te amo tanto, no puedo vivir sin ti, mi Cielito (I love you so much, I can’t live without you, my Cielito).” You could see and hear the honesty in his words, your heart pounding in your chest, feeling the prickle of tears. “No puedo respirar sin ti—me muero sin ti (I can’t breathe without you—I’d die without you).” 

“Javier, you can’t just say exceptionally romantic things during sex and make me cry,” you sniffled. 

He chuckled, lifting his head to kiss you. 

“Yes, I can,” he murmured against your lips, his broad palms moving to skim along your back. Nipping at your chin, he grabbed your ass. “You feel so fucking good. How is it better?” 

“Magic.” 

He was thinking it over. 

“Your pussy is pretty fucking magical.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” you giggled, reaching behind you to grab his hand, moving to press it beside his head, one then the other, interlacing your fingers and holding his hands—him happily, letting you pin him down. 

“It’s the truth.” 

“I’m gonna start calling your dick a ‘magic stick,’” you replied, circling your hips to end the sentence, watching in delight when his mouth fell open. 

“You think my dick is magic?” he gasped. 

Rocking on him, feeling him so deep inside you, answering breathily, “Absolutely, it’s fucking magic how perfectly it fills me—doesn’t leave any empty room.” 

He groaned, his cock jerking inside you, making you smile. 

“Can, uh—” he was breathing a little heavier “—can you stay still and kiss me?” he asked, looking up at you with those big eyes of his. 

“Of course, baby.” Lowering your head, pressing your body into his, staying seated as you gave him what he wanted, kissing him. 

You understood what he wanted completely—that ache in your core quelled by him filling you, loving having him inside you, feeling him throbbing and every vein and ridge pressing up against your sensitive walls, him so hot and hard. Slick was soaking him, gathering where you were joined, knowing it was probably dripping down him, happy to stay like this as long as he wanted, comfortable; Your body relaxing, melting into him, contentedness warming your very soul. 

He kissed you fervently, his tongue pressing between your lips to slide along your own, squeezing your hands beside his head, the two of you losing yourselves to each other, basking in one another—your bodies intertwined so tightly, it all blurring where you ended and he began. 

It was almost too much how he encompassed everything. Your brain could think of nothing else but him—feeling him, tasting him, hearing him, seeing him, smelling him–it was all Javi, realizing nobody else had ever affected you like he does, nobody else had ever treated you like he does, nobody else had ever loved you like he does. 

The saddest part was you were positive that went for family, too—Javier was the only person to ever truly love you, but he was the only man you’ve ever truly loved, too. 

The kissing became languid, minutes passing with him stuffed deep inside you, feeling so full and getting worked up from all the emotions you were feeling—happiness, relief, joy, tenderness, love. You were fluttering around him, your tongues tangling, beginning to squirm with the need for friction.

Breaking the kiss, he asked, “Need to come, mi amor?” through labored breaths. 

“Yes.” 

His hooded eyes showed earnestness, immediately saying, “Use me, Cielito. Take what you need. I’m yours.” 

“Fuck, I love you,” she said. 

He felt her words in his heart, them dancing across his skin, leaving warmth in their wake that seeped down into his bones, pretty sure he might be drunk on her—feeling euphoric, floaty, so unbelievably happy that it should be illegal. This was the high they tried to achieve in manufacturing drugs, something so addictive the user won’t want to stop, and Javier was hooked; addicted, gone, letting himself enjoy this bliss and the high of hearing her tell him she loved him. 

She loved him. 

It was embarrassing how giddy it made him feel, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know how she felt—she’d made it known without saying the words, leaving little doubt in his mind. Everything she did, and said, made Javier feel how much she loved him, but hearing her say the sentence out loud made it real; it brought life to the three little words that would title the next chapter of their lives together and solidified how they felt for each other. 

Add in her asking him to move in with her, and he was the happiest man on the entire fucking planet. 

His throbbing cock was buried to the root inside her, feeling her velvety walls pulsing, burning around him, so wet he could feel her dripping, soaking him in her slick. Sweat had their bodies sticking together, neither giving a single fuck, her face so close he could feel her breathing. 

“I love you, too,” he replied. He’d never tire of saying it, planning to tell her every single day for the rest of their lives because she needed to know—she had to be aware of how he felt and that his love for her grew stronger the longer they were together. 

Her mouth collided with his in a heated kiss that was over too soon. Unclasping her hands from his, she moved them to his chest, leveraging herself to sit up on top of him. A small noise left his throat as she rolled her hips. His fingers itched to touch her, grabbing her hips before moving over the soft, supple skin of her belly, up to palm the familiar weight of her breasts, her breath hitching when he tweaked her pebbled nipples between his fingers. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he husked. 

The shitty hanging light over the dining room table glowed behind her, making her look ethereal, angelic, a goddess above him chasing her bliss. He was enraptured by how she looked with her eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, watching her throat work as she swallowed her moans—thinking she was the most beautiful woman in the entire world, and she loved him. 

She started moving, working herself up and down his dick, her body shivering in pleasure, feeling her cunt squeezing him tightly as she slickly slid along him. She felt so fucking good that it had his breath going shaky, his heart hammering in his chest. The pressure was slowly building at the base of his spine, so turned on by how she was riding him, finding it so fucking sexy watching her take what she needed and using him to feel good. 

It was true that he loved getting her off and probably knew her body as well as his own, learning all the little things that turned her on and got her there. He was aware that if he played with her clit, it’d have her coming quickly; teasing her tits enough could get her to finish, too, but he wasn’t the one calling the shots right now; she was in control—she had the power, and he’d do anything she asked. 

Her heavy-lidded eyes met his, making his cock twitch. 

“Touch me,” she moaned. 

Quickly he was pressing his thumb to her clit, rubbing it the way he knew she liked it, his mouth falling open when she clenched around him. Her moans were getting louder, it getting even wetter between her legs, and he knew she was almost there. 

He was breathing hard. “You gonna come, Cielito?” he asked. “You gonna let me feel you?” 

“Yes,” she gasped. “So close.” 

“I know you are, baby.” He pressed a little harder. “Wanna feel you come. Can you do that for me, mi amor? Be my good girl and come for me?” 

“Yes, Javi,” she moaned. 

Her thighs were quivering, and the way her cunt was beginning to spasm had him feeling dizzy, ignoring the heat growing in his belly. 

“Dámelo, mi amor, give it to me. (Give it to me, my love).”

It wasn’t much longer that her body was tensing up, crying out his name as she came, her clenching down hard around him. 

“So good to me,” he groaned. “My good girl. Te amo, mi Cielito (I love you, my Cielito).”

He grit his teeth, grabbing onto her ass, and started thrusting up into her to extend her high, grunting as he pistoned. Her moans were stuttered, digging her nails into his chest, and when he came to a stop, needing to catch his breath, she’d left half-moon imprints in his skin. 

“I’m gonna marry you one day,” she croaked. 

His head came up to look at her. 

“What?” he panted. 

She had a lazy smile on her lips. 

“I’m gonna marry the man I love one day, and that’s you.” She poked him in the chest. 

A laugh escaped him at how adorably fucked out of her mind she looked, groaning as he moved to sit up, an arm around her back to keep her on him, spreading his legs with her in his lap. 

They were face to face now, him smiling. 

Leaning in, he nudged his nose against hers. “You’re gonna marry me one day, huh?” he asked. 

She slid the fingers of one hand into the hair at the back of his head, pressing the other to his cheek. 

“Oh, yeah. You’re my dream man; you check off all of my boxes.” 

Her thighs were on either side of his hips, his hands gripping her ass, helping her to start moving on him, pressing a soft kiss to her chin. 

“What’s on the list?” he asked against her skin, moving to peck one side of her mouth, then the other. 

“He’s gotta be loyal.” 

“I am,” he replied, kissing her jaw. 

She was sinking down his hard cock slowly, canting her hips to get a better angle. 

“He’s gotta love me.” 

“I do.” A peck to her cheek.

She listed the items, rising up on her knees and falling back down, Javier responding, kissing anywhere he could reach that wasn’t her lips. 

“Considerate.” 

“I try.” One over her pulse point. 

“Affectionate.” 

“Always.” A kiss to the tip of her nose. 

There wasn’t any rush, her rocking in his lap, sliding along his length smoothly, her inner walls massaging him.

“Romantic.” 

“I am,” he said, pecking the side of her mouth again. 

“Fun.” 

His lips paused, her continuing to slowly ride him. 

“Maybe?”

“You are.” 

“I am.” He smiled, kissing her other cheek.

“Easy going.” 

“I try.” A press of his lips under her jaw. 

“Gives me his pickles.” 

That had his head coming up to meet her eyes, his eyebrow quirked. 

“My dick?” he asked. 

She gave him a look, slowing to a grind, her arousal wetting his lap. 

“I said ‘pickles,’ not ‘pickle,’ Javier. Literal pickles.” A smirk pulled up on her face. “But, yeah, your dick, too.” 

He chuckled, finally kissing her mouth.

“You can have both,” he murmured into her lips.

She held onto his shoulders as she started moving faster, his mouth falling open in a moan, her all warm and wet, fucking herself on his cock. The knot was tightening in his belly, their eyes locked on each other, groaning when she nipped at his bottom lip. 

He could feel himself getting closer, her slowing down, grinding on him as they lazily kissed before pressing their foreheads together. They stared into each other’s glazed-over eyes while they shared breaths, him helping her move with his grip on her ass. 

There wasn’t any other place he’d rather be than right here, with the woman he loved, who he knew without a doubt he was going to marry one day. 

She picked up in pace again, sweat beading on her forehead, his lap wet from her slick, letting her control the speed and intensity. Javier was happily at her mercy, feeling their connection of the love they shared, taking their time, and being in the moment—zero pressure, just doing what felt good and enjoying one another. They found themselves kissing when the need became too high, wanting to feel the other’s mouth—quick kisses or drawn-out ones, biting lips, and tangling tongues. 

He knew he’d come soon, could feel it building inside him, but wanting to stay like this for as long as possible. 

Through panting breaths, she asked, “What’s on your dream girl list?” 

He was so fucking lost with her fucking him that he answered in a weak voice, “What?” 

“Your dream girl. What’s on your list?” 

There was only one answer that was coming through his pleasure-addled brain. 

“You,” he gasped. 

She grinned. 

“I love you,” she said. 

He was quick to reply, “I love you, too.” Kissing her until it got sloppy, breaking apart when she started riding him fast and hard, Javier’s eyes squeezing shut, whimpering, his body trembling with the tension winding tighter inside him—he was so close, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. 

His eyes went wide when she clenched around him on a downstroke, her continuing to do it. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whined. 

A knowing smirk was on her lips. 

“You gonna come for me, Javi, baby?” she panted. 

She was doing it on purpose, riding him hard and tightening up to squeeze his dick over and over, trying to fucking finish him. 

He smacked her ass, making her laugh. 

“You’re—” he gulped, it hard to speak when it felt like he was going to explode “—you’re playing fucking dirty.” 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

His insides were burning up, the pressure getting to the point that he was done for. It was over—his cock thickening, falling over the edge with a guttural moan, her sitting flush against him as he came, gushing so deep inside her he’d be in her for days. 

Euphoria had his mind going blank and body lax, her pulling his head into her tits, cushioning him on the pillowy softness as he came down. 

He was in heaven. 

Both literally and figuratively. 

Your fingers rubbed through Javi’s sweat-soaked hair, his face pressed into your bosom. 

His shoulders started shaking before you felt his hot breaths and heard his muffled laughter. 

“What’s so funny, Chuckles?” you asked. 

He said something into your chest, unable to make out the words.

“Gonna need you to get out of the boobies.” 

Lifting his head, he looked beyond amused, him trying to hold back his laughs. 

“You’re my Cielito,” he said. 

“Yes…” 

“My little heaven.” Air left his nose in a snort, having to compose himself. “I’m literally inside heaven.” His breath sputtered, his eyes crinkling at the edges as a short burst of laughter sounded from him, ending in his body silently quaking, smiling from ear to ear. You couldn’t keep a straight face, joining in the merriment. 

“You’re so fucking dumb,” you laughed, playfully slapping his shoulder. 

His arms pulled you in for a hug, shoving your face in his neck, the two of you working out the giggles in your system, bodies shaking against each other. 

It took a minute for him to calm down, finally saying, “But you love me.” He pressed a kiss to your hair, his hands rubbing along your bare back.

“I do.” Moving your head to look into his eyes. “I love you very much.” 

His chocolate brown eyes were shining brightly, giving you a dimpled grin. 

“I love you, too, Cielito.” He kissed you sweetly, pulling back to hold your face, as he said, “Mi vida estaría vacía sin ti (My life would be empty without you). Te amo más que a nada y soy feliz de compartir de mi vida contigo a mi lado (I love you more than anything and I’m happy to share my life with you by my side). Eres el amor de mi vida y mi media naranja (You are the love of my life and my soulmate). Te amo, mi Cielito (I love you, my Cielito).” Your eyes were watering, holding the tears at bay, his lips pressing against yours in a tender kiss that had you sighing happily. Breaking it, he asked, “Do you need me to translate?” 

“No.” You shook your head. “I got it, and you can’t just say exceptionally romantic things after post sex giggles to make me cry.” You were so fucking happy, it was taking everything in you to keep from crying. “It’s rude.” 

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. He kissed you, saying into your lips, “I’m gonna keep doing it, because I love you, Cielito—mi amor (my love).” 

“I love you, too, Javi.”

“My back is gonna be fucked,” he said between kisses.

“I really fucking love you, too.” 

“Fuck, I love you.” 

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[feeblescholarmyass]

I'll Tell You a Story Until You Fall Asleep

in which you ask them to read you a bedtime story.

word count: 2.2 k

pairings: caretaker!(Kaeya, Xiao, Zhongli, Cyno, Wanderer, Alhaitham) x child! Reader (separate)

tags: sick reader (Kaeya, Wanderer), comfort, caretaker/child dynamic, fluff, mentions of younger siblings (Cyno), Wanderer has trauma, Wanderer doesn't understand how people work, Alhaitham is bad with kids, gender neutral reader (you/your pronouns), second person pov

warnings: none

a/n: sorry for how short wanderer's is, I lost motivation really bad and gave up. also ignore the fact that this was completely unprompted, it's an old wip I finally got inspiration to finish

dividers by cafekitsune

KAEYA was notoriously unreliable when it came to things he didn't take interest in. Luckily for your primary caretaker, he took plenty of interest in you. When you had come down with a fever, they knew that they would need help convincing you to rest. No matter how big you were getting, you hadn't lost your large youthful reserves of energy. Only Barbatos himself could get you to settle down without a fuss.

Though he was no god, Kaeya was the only one who managed to come close. For some odd reason, he was the one you chose to admire. Hearing his voice could either rile you up or calm you down. His cold hands on your shoulder, either encouraging you or warning you, were the only communication you needed to make a decision.

So when he heard you were sick and asking for him, he happily dropped whatever he was doing to come visit. "Hey, kid. I heard you have a fever. How're you feeling?" He rapped his knuckles against the door to announce his presence.

You lifted your head from under your layers of blankets trapping you against your bed. "Kaeya..?" You sniffled, blinking tired eyes at him. "I thought you were busy with work."

You sounded so pitifully sick that it made his heart ache. "What? Me? Working? What put that in your head?" He scoffed, tossing his ponytail over his shoulder and smiling at you. "Don't tell the Acting Grandmaster I said that."

You giggled weakly, curling up under your comforter. He took the few steps necessary to reach your bedside and pulled up a chair. You reached over and grabbed his hand. It took both of your hands to grasp his. Your hands were still chubby and uncalloused. You pressed his palm to your forehead. He winced, noting how heat radiated from your skin.

"Kaeya..?"

"Yes? Do you need something from me, kid?"

"Can you tell me a story? I wanna listen to you talk." You nuzzled his hand. He looked at you with an amused grin pulling at his lips.

"Sure, kid. Let me think. Once upon a time…"

XIAO jolted up from where he was sitting when he heard you calling. He appeared in your room at Wangshu Inn, worried something bad had happened.

He caught sight of you, curled up on the couch, snuggled deep into a blanket with a sheepish look on your face. "Sorry. Were you busy?"

"No, I was not. What do you need?" He crossed his arms, setting down his weapon.

"I, um, well- I wanted to hear a story. I couldn't sleep, and I tried everything else already." You looked away, trying to hide your embarrassment.

He took a moment to regain his composure before moving closer. "I am not skilled at telling stories. Coming up with compelling fiction has never been a part of my required skill set. I apologize for disappointing you."

"You don't have to make up anything. You can just tell me a memory about the other Yakshas when they were alive. That would make a very good story. I'll braid your hair while you talk." You scooted over so he had room to sit next to you.

He couldn't help it, a small smile pulled at his lips as he sat next to you. The feeling of your small nimble fingers weaving locks of hair into a braid was always relaxing, and it would be nice to reminisce about the past. To have someone else remember the truth of those long gone was always a weight off his shoulders.

"Okay. What should I tell you first…"

ZHONGLI didn't get why so many children hung around funeral parlors these days. Childcare was not in his job description, but he couldn't deny a citizen of Liyue any aid he could give in his mortal form.

You weren't troublesome, and often helped around the parlor. Hu Tao sent you on some of the more paranormal excursions on behalf of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Hearing a child warn others about ghosts was much less troublesome than herself or a strange adult. Your "stories" were hardly ever taken seriously.

Due to your regular trips to the parlor, you often visited with the man and talked over tea. Even though you were young, he enjoyed trading stories back and forth. Yours were normally more fantastical, aided by the imagination that comes natural to most children, while his were near-truths that he lightly sanitized for the sake of your innocence.

Normally, you would leave the parlor long before dusk, returning to your home for whatever your nightly routine was. However, today was different. The sun had already set, and you seemed intent on sticking around.

"Mr Zhongli, when do you go home to sleep? I bet you go to bed early, like Grandpa does. Where do you live, Mr Zhongli? Maybe I could visit you during your off days."

He sighed, placing a hand on your head and ruffling your hair. "You know, young one, it doesn't do your body any good to run from sleep. You should return home."

You looked up sheepishly at him, kicking your feet back and forth while avoiding his unspoken question. "I'm not running from anything, Sir."

"Tell me your troubles, child. How can I help you?"

You pursed your lips for a few seconds, clearly struggling with your words. "I don't wanna go home tonight. I was supposed to stay with my auntie, but her house smells weird and she doesn't cook good food. So I told her that I could stay at a friend's house…"

"I'm assuming you meant Hu Tao's." Zhongli sighed. The Director had left for home an hour ago, and you didn't know the way there. "I shall take you, don't worry."

"Um- actually, I wanted to stay with you. Miss Director said you tell the best bedtime stories. I wanna hear one."

He looked down at you, eyes widened in surprise. "I'm not sure that is-"

"Oh, pleeeaaassseee, Mr Zhongli! I promise I won't stay up too late or wake you up early! You could even tell me the story at the Director's place! I just really want you to tell me a story!"

Zhongli knew he wouldn't win this battle without any underhanded tactics, such as alerting your aunt of your whereabouts. It couldn't hurt to tell you just one story, right?

"Alright, let us go to the Director. I will tell you one story, but only one."

"Yay! You're the best, Mr Zhongli!"

CYNO wouldn't tell anyone, but he always looked forward to staying in Aaru Village before returning home from a mission. He planned his schedule just so that he would arrive before dinner and had enough time the next day to stay for breakfast with your family. You were the oldest of your siblings, and the only one who wouldn't groan at his god awful jokes. Instead, you would one-up him, and provide him with new material to try on Tighnari during his next TCG session.

He had been taking a stroll around the village before dinner when he heard familiar giggling somewhere behind him. He continued walking, pretending not to have noticed. It wasn't long before he felt you wrap your arms around his back and say, "Cyno!!"

"I wondered when you were finally going to show yourself." He turned and picked you up, examining you. Since his last visit, you had grown taller by approximately 3/4ths of an inch, lost some of the baby fat in your cheeks, and cut your hair. He had been gone for too long.

"Hehe, sorry. Candace was looking for you and said I had the best chance of finding you. Dinner is going to be ready soon."

"Well then we'd better hurry, otherwise we might miss Candace's cooking." He had tried to find a joke, but he was too distracted to think of a half decent one. He was finally back, and his favorite kid was already telling him all that he had missed.

He didn't miss an opportunity to make a joke all throughout dinner. He made a total of six jokes, two of which earned him glares from Candace, and five puns, one actually getting a laugh out of you. You had only made one joke, yet it received much more laughter from the other kids, as well as Candace's approval. He was losing.

After dinner, the two of you had retreated into your bedroom to compare TCG cards and tactics. You even engaged him in one game before being overwhelmed by tiredness.

"Hey, Cyno," you yawned, "can you tell me a story? I don't wanna go to bed just yet."

"What kind of story?" He asked, carefully putting away the cards.

"I dunno, maybe one from the forest. It's been a long time since I've heard one of those."

"Bored with the desert already? Don't tell me you're deserting me to move to the forest."

You stared at him blankly.

"Get it? Because desert, which means to abandon someone or something in a way considered disloyal, is spelled just like desert, which is the type of environment we are in? No?"

"Just tell me a bedtime story already."

"Fine, fine. but you never answered my question. Besides, I thought that one was funny."

WANDERER was panicking. You were sick, and he didn't know how to help. You couldn't do anything you usually could do, and he, as a puppet, had never been sick. The only real previous experience he had with sickness was the one that led to his old friend's death. Seeing you here, so small and helpless just like he had been, brought back horrible memories.

"Abhi, don't cry." You reached up and brushed some of his hair out of his face. "It's just a fever. I get 'em every year. Don't you get sick?"

" 'm not crying. And no, I never get sick. You're just a weak human child, who is more susceptible to such things than average." He tried to ignore the glare you gave him. "How do you get rid of it?"

"Well, rest is the best way. But I'm having trouble going to sleep. D'ya think you could tell me a bedtime story, Abhi?"

He seemed nervous, but decided he'd rather stay by your side anyways. Just in case. "Fine. What kind of story do you want?"

It had been a lie, originally. A simple white lie to get out of some gathering. The shock factor of his 'confession' gave him time to escape before any of them could protest. Truthfully, ALHAITHAM didn't have a child himself, nor would anyone in their right mind entrust him to take care of one.

But when Nilou volunteered to send you to join his lie, he couldn't turn you down. It was something about that look in your eye. And maybe the book in your hands. Most children in Sumeru didn't bother reading, not even with the Akasha gone. You were doing it for fun.

He decided he'd take you, at least to give him a solid excuse. Who knows, maybe he could do this more often if you didn't cause him any trouble.

"Mr Scribe, your bookshelf is very unorganized."

Okay, maybe this was a little more effort than he had expected. You couldn't blame him, he'd obviously never spent much time around children.

"Oh? Well, it doesn't bother me." He crossed his arms, sitting down on the couch.

You sat across from him, your big eyes taking in your surroundings. He noted your eyes lingering on the decor he'd bought to annoy Kaveh. Your wrinkled nose worried him. If you shared too much in common with the architect, he was in for a long night.

He made dinner, deciding that he could avoid you productively that way. You seemed to busy yourself by going through his books. You ate silently during dinner, and seemed to tire of sorting just after dusk.

Finally, you spoke up. "Mr Scribe?"

"My name is Alhaitham." He said firmly, turning the page of the book he was reading.

"Alright, Alhaitham. Your books are boring. Do you know any stories?"

He looked up from the book, his eyes catching on you. You had a book in your lap. It wasn't one he'd consider difficult, but it wasn't something he'd imagine a child would have the patience to read. "A… story?"

"You know, like a fairytale or a myth. A fable. A fiction. Or do you only read textbooks?"

He couldn't help the grin that pulled at his lips. "You've got quite the vocabulary there, don't you?" He closed the book, sitting up. "I suppose I might know one or two."

"I'd like you to tell me a story, please." You said, putting away the book you'd given up on.

"Alright, I suppose I could spare a few minutes. How about this, I'll tell you some stories from the desert. Have you ever heard about King Deshret?"

You scrambled onto the couch beside him and listened attentively as he told you one of the myths from before Deshret's death. He told stories of old gods and their followers. It may not have been a classical fairytale, but it was a story nonetheless. It wasn't long before you'd fallen asleep with your head resting against the cushions.

"You'll wake up sore if you sleep like that," he chided to your unconscious ears. He sighed and scooped you up, placing him on his lap instead.

You weren't a bad kid. Maybe he'd watch you again if he ever needed an excuse to leave work early or avoid being dragged to a party.

comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

[midnghtprentiss]

fooling you - emily prentiss

pairing: ssa emily prentiss x peditrician!femreader

emily got insecure about an unsub and push reader away. based on fooling you by rachel platten

warnings: angust (not much), cursing, fluff!!!!

i am obsessed with this concept i'm sorry

comment if you want to be tagged in the emily stories!

Emily was pushing you away again. You didn't know what happend at the BAU and she wasn't talking… at least not with you. You got different jobs, you work in a hospital and she works catching bad people. Some days were amazing, some days weren't and that 's the deal. If you want to talk about things or only share what's wrong, it's alright. Pushing you away was everything but alright. 

The knock on the door of your shared apartment took you out of your transe. You smile when you see Hotch's figure. You called him because you know he's the only one she could talk to for now. 

"Sorry for making you come. She's pushing me away, Aaron." You took a deep breath and he smiled calmly. 

"It's alright. I'll talk to her." He made his way inside. 

"She's in her office." He nods to the room and knocks twice before going in. 

"Babe, I don't want to talk." She stops when notice Hotch is the one there. "Seriously?" 

"You're screwing up again, Emily." He sits in front of her. "Talk to me."

"I, I'm worried Hotch. When we caught the unsub today he told me something about protecting the people we cared for and I panicked. What if someone does something to her trying to get to me? That's my fiancé and I can't even protect her properly." Emily looked at her friend and shook her head. "Hotch, I can't lose her but I hate the idea of something happening and my efforts are useless." 

"Emily, she called me to talk to you because she knows you're worried about something she doesn't understand. She would never risk her safety knowing you could never see her again. Honestly, our job is hard. Everyday I wake up terrified something happened to Jack and I go to sleep terrified something happened when I'm sleeping in the other room. And when nothing it's real I got back to reality. You're afraid of something, everybody is, don't let this consume you and rip something you treasure." Emily nods, wiping her tears aways. "Talk to her and do me a favor, be honest."

Emily and Hotch talked for a little longer and he left when all was alright. Both of you didn't speak a word 'til bedtime. You took Sergio in your arms and tucked him under the blankets. Emily went to bed a couple minutes later, she was wearing her old FBI shirt and pajama pants that absolutely did not match. 

"Can we talk?" She sits in the bed next to you, getting under the covers too.

"Only if you want to." You answer, looking at her.

"You know I've done things I'm not proud of and sometimes I'm not sure if I really changed. You know all that and still you stayed." She holds your hand "Everyday I get paranoid if I'm deserving of the unconditionally love you gave me because you just love and accept me. Any reasonable person would be left by now. I have no idea why you decided to stay. You hold me when I got scared, you wiped my tears when I cry and you love me when I'm so fucked up." 

"Emily, I love you. I think that part of loving someone it's accepting, loving and caring. You feel like you don't deserve it? Bullshit. I saw your best and ugly days. I watched you break down so many times and I didn't want to leave. I know you know I mean everything I say, when I reassure you how much I am in love with you, you're strong and I have no idea how your job is but I understand it's too much. You don't need to speak to me when it's too much, pushing me away it's not okay." 

"I feel like I'm wasting your time, fooling you. Anyone would love to have you and here you are with me." 

"Emily, I love you. I chose to be with you because I love every single inch of you, I don't care about what you do in your past and how these people get inside your head. I want you to understand I love you for who you are. Bad days, good days, wild days and lazy days. You're not fooling me, God, don't say that ever again, not in front of our cat, not in front of me and absolutely not for yourself." You sit straight in bed, giving her a comprehensive look. "I wish you could see yourself like I see you. You spent hours in a line with me to buy concert tickets. You took Reid to a Russian movie festival. You help Morgan with his training every sunday. Don't make me remember the day you let Penelope dress you like a unicorn vomit in you. You are the most caring woman I know and honestly, I can't believe you don't believe. You should and I'm fine remembering you every day until we're gone." 

You cup her cheeks and give her a sweet kiss, hugging her tight. 

"In this house we don't give up 'cause we're afraid, we do things to make us stronger and cuddle at the end of the day." 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to push you away. I thought I was protecting you." You both get comfy in the blankets.

"I love you, alright? Till I'm gray and old." She laughs and it's the most beautiful sound you have ever heard.

"I love you. If you start that thing again I'll call Penelope and she'll come over." 

"You wouldn't dare!" She hustles at you, pinning you under her. 

"I'm crazy, woman."

[space-writes]

characters out of context

@serenanymph tagged me in this and it looks so fun i have to do it! i’m going to do all the chapters because i want to, so this is under a cut because there are. an amount of chapters in this draft.

no-pressure tagging @loopyhoopywrites @vollzz and @ahordeofwasps

Rules: Include one character quote of your choosing ⁠from each chapter of your WIP (or as many chapters as you'd like). Give absolutely no context, save for what's between two parts of an interrupted sentence, should that occur. You may mention who said it.

Prologue - Aliyne

“What can I say, it was a long walk.”

Chapter One - Lucian

“Perhaps I will purchase a chair from you, when I bring back the beast’s head,” said Lucian. “Good day.”

Chapter Two - Kelora Fenthari

“Surprisingly clever,” Kelora interrupted. Iolanthe’s mouth snapped shut. “Well, Mundy, it appears there is half a brain in that head after all.”

Chapter Three - Aliyne

“What’s all this ‘we’ business? I can let a giant monster do what it likes.”

Chapter Four - Vren

“If you lied to me, I’ll be back,” the Wraith said. “You know how I feel about liars, Johar.”

Chapter Five - Leshanna

“Why did Master Ril'azur Fierrdenre repair your lute and why do you keep calling him ‘Zinby’?” Leshanna hurried after him. “Will you please take off that robe, it is not yours-- oh, no, not right now! For goodness sake, Mister Crow, this is my kitchen!”

Chapter Six - Sorrow

“I had very little desire to be transformed into a toad this evening.”

Chapter Seven - Aliyne

“If you play that fucking arpeggio one more time I am going to tattoo it on your backside with my knife.”

Chapter Eight - Zander

“Fuck you, dragon, we’re alive!”

Chapter Nine - Quest

“Leshanna’s on my side, she says it’s ‘a menace to public health’, but Aliyne and Zander think it’s stupid.”

Chapter Ten - Leshanna

“Where else are they going to stay? In a tavern?” said Leshanna, shuddering. “You can’t expect Imidris to sleep in a room next to drunken sailors and cutpurses.”

Chapter Eleven - Sorrow

“You are a menace and you are demoted.”

Chapter Twelve - Aspiration

“Because of the dragon?” She cocked her head. “Or because of the Wraith?”

Chapter Thirteen - Sorrow

“Now, are you going to come home like a good boy or are you going to insist on playing out past your bedtime?”

Chapter Fourteen - Vren

“No, please, continue to lecture me. I have literally nothing I’d rather be doing.”

Chapter Fifteen - Sorrow

“Are you agreeing with everything I say in the vain hope that I’ll eventually stop talking?”

Chapter Sixteen - Aliyne

“What is it with you infernii and doing the absolute stupidest thing you possibly can at any given time?”

Chapter Seventeen - Sorrow

“I do not think House Kyvelian would have the first idea what to do with you. I have my own reasons for wanting you out of their hands.” He gestured at the dragons corpse. “Run around in Valloroth a little longer, sweet prince. Kill a few more monsters – I’ve heard it builds character.”

(and the epilogue has no dialogue)

Valloroth taglist: @cherrybombfangirlwrites @memento-morri-writes @foxboyclit @lawful-evil-novelist @at-thezenith @morganwriteblr @fayeiswriting @serenanymph (ask to be +/-)

[invaders-cookbook]

Invader's Cookbook #3: Keeping your mind and body healthy

Invasions in Elden Ring are insanely difficult to the point of being unwinnable sometimes. It's part of the charm, it's what makes them so appealing to people like me. The game doesn't shy away from putting you into situations where your winning chances are absolutely random, and it's up to you to deal with them. You never know when the tides are going to turn, which makes them so exciting.

But this excitement comes at a cost of risking extreme frustration. Winning against the odds feels great, but not everyone is going to beat the odds, especially if you're new to invasions! Frustration can come both from outwards (the game put you into an unwinnable situation) and inwards (You see that you're underperforming and lose a winnable situation) That's why it's important to keep your cool and mitigate the effects of frustration.

Here are the things that help me personally to not only to mitigate frustration, but also significantly improve

1. Keep your body healthy.

I am not exaggerating when I'm saying this, your winrate spikes tenfold when you take care of yourself! This is so important. I know it's kinda general life advice, but you'll be surprised how much it actually matters.

I am not kidding, you play 200% better after a shower. Try it, I'm serious.

Remember to eat healthy food sometimes! Full regular meals improve your mood and performance drastically! I can't overstate how much better you play when you have a full meal!

And PLEASE sleep well. I am serious. Sleep is integral part of your physical and mental health. I know it's tough to keep a good sleep schedule, and not everyone has time to sleep, but please do, whenever you can, try your best to have regular sleep! If you're reading this post when it's past your bedtime, first of all, reblog and tell me in the tags, and second, GO TO SLEEP! NOW!!!

2. You are not going to beat the odds every time. That's how odds work. But you can set them in your favour.

You lost again, because the coop has already completed the entire area and you were backed against a fogwall against multiple players. What were you supposed to do?

I agree, that situation is really, really bullshit. But that's invasions. Every time you use that bloody finger you roll a cosmic dice, and if you roll low, you simply don't get a good situation. What works for me is changing my goals in a particular invasion. It goes from "Kill the host" to "Kill that single phantom" or "Deal the most damage I can possibly do" or just simply "Not die for as long as I can". Land a cool combo! Befriend the host*! Poison them! Go out on your own terms!

Sometimes changing your goal according to the situation is enough to offset your frustration.

* – DO NOT do this when there is another phantom around. You're getting blocked for this. You are not only a dickhead, you also lower the pool of possible co-invaders that can connect with you and help you out in the future. Respect your teammates.

3. Take breaks

Invasions are intense as hell, and you can't just invade back to back untill you exhaust yourself! Try to take breaks from the game, so your skills are always at 80-100%! The more you play without breaks the worse it gets.

This also helps if you're having a bad losing streak. Generally I'm trying to take 10 minute breaks if I get two consecutive losses. Interestingly enough, putting myself on a 10 minute time-out forces me to find something else to do, which kinda helps me with chores. It's not for everyone, but my ADHD ass loves this.

You can use your break to do some stretches, or go for a walk, or do the dishes. Anything, really! It's up to you! Whatever frustration you had will fade away and you will be at your maximum capacity again!

Another thing you can use your break for is some wrist and eye exercises! It's good for your health and will make you more relaxed and focused.

4. Change things up: try a new build, start a new playthrough!

This is what I personally enjoy doing. Experiment with different playstyles and try invading at different level ranges. For that of course you need a new build and a new character. Creating a character with invading in mind is very fun and challenging, and it allows you to do some more calm stuff on the side when you're not in the mood for invading on your main character.

Not sure what build to choose? Ask @huggingentacles for build suggestions!

[scary-senpai]

Do you actually have insomnia? If yes, then how bad?

Pretty bad. It’s almost impossible for me to fall asleep without medication, even when I’m exhausted. The more exhausted I get, the worse the insomnia gets—almost like I’ve forgotten how to sleep.

I’ve worked pretty hard at my sleep hygiene and bedtime routine, but it’s always been an uphill battle.

My anxiety (mostly social anxiety) is generally under control now, but growing up that was a huge part of my insomnia. As a kid, I would usually lie awake for 2-3 hours, worrying about the future or regretting things I did in the past. I think, unfortunately, getting story ideas or head-canons is just another form of intrusive thoughts. But they are way better than the ones I had before. So, there’s that!

I am also ADHD/autistic (another thing that didn’t get diagnosed until my mid 20s). I’ve sometimes wondered if I have a circadian rhythms that’s shifted slightly outside of the standard norm—which is apparently quite common for folks in that group—since I can usually reliably fall asleep around 2am, provided I’m not massively wound up.

Things that would cause me to be wound up / awake past two regardless of how tired I am: working past 7 (including my volunteer gig), writing in front of a screen (which is partly why most of my drafts are handwritten), extended social interactions such as phone calls or text convos (usually in-person events go better, but not always), baths (alas! they ought to be relaxing), reading The Economist or anything that triggers my anxiety.

I usually use the tag “Ca-Chan can’t sleep” if I’m up past my bedtime (which should be ten, but is usually more like 11/11:30). If it’s an absurd hour, I try to stay off the internet, but honestly it depends—at a certain point I’ll just give up and start doing stuff. I know my body pretty well at this point, and lying in bed for too long causes frustration/anxiety (which keeps me awake). So I may as well try to get something done since I’ll be operating at a loss later in the day (and napping, if I’m lucky).

I also use Freedom, an app that restricts web access, and it regularly turns on at 11 (although admittedly sometimes I cheat and turn it off). I’ve been trying to slowly bump the start time earlier (to 10:30/10) and the end time later (to 8) because I need more time to shift into bedtime mode and also sometimes I just lie in bed futzing around on social media when I need to get up. But when it comes to habit-forming, it’s best not to go cold-turkey. Smaller changes over a long period of time tend to be more productive in the long run.

Anyway, thanks for the ask, Kind Anon! I wish you many nights of full, refreshing and uninterrupted sleep 😴 <4

[c0smiccom3t]

Ryonna Tag team racing quotes part 2!

Missions [Costume] - "Could you get one for me too? If i wanna show off im a master of stealth business, i want to look like i am that, too!" - "Yeah i'm sure it won't be too big when you put in on, sir." - "AGAIN, BRAT-ICOOT?!" - "This is getting us nowhere. Sir, perhaps would it be better if i went to fetched those things myself?" - "Oh-kay..." - "JUST GET ON WITH IT, OR YOU'RE GONNA SAY HI TO STARGAZER, TOO!" - "Finally." - "Yeah, keep it for yourself, you deserved it." [Mission 1] - "Yeah, could you? That'd really pay off and your sister would be impressed, if you ask me." - "Good luck! ...and make it quick." - "Master, calm down!! Maybe he just needed some clues to where that set is! ...Please hurry before he has another tantrum, he skipped his beauty sleep today." [nervous laugh] - "Yeah, you don't want to be known as 'the worst big brother in the world' now, do you?" - "We told you, brat-icoot, just BRING THAT GEAR!" - "Congrats, you played yourself. Hope you enjoy your demise! See you on the race track! Heheheheh, sucker." [Mission 2] - "Dont you mean 'weapon of mass de-- OW!" - "Okay, okay, you're right, sir!" - "That'd be so helpful, indeed! ...No pun intended, by the way. Now get moving!" - "Yeah, come back to us once you did get those crystals, bucko!" - "Yeah. Things take time. But honestly, you got to hurry. so get a move on!" - "These gamers are such a predictable bother nowadays, it's exhausting really." - "See you there, brat-icoot. C'mon m'lord, let's show him!" [When Cortex is interacting with Crash] - "Sir, he doesn't play with train tra--... F-forget what I said." - "Ooo-hohohoho! This is gonna be fun to watch, sorry brat-icoot.... not!" - "Oh and please. be careful with that. I heard wood chippers are a little... Spiky." *deep giggles* - "Not as good as when i hit the gym though. I got THAT superstrenght, baby! ...Though the actual egocentrist here is my boss, anyway." - "Yes, now how about you get lo-- I mean... explore around and have a good time?" - "I'm telling you sir, maybe you should get your mind off him with a nice, delicious churro-- OH HI BRAT-ICOOT, WHATS UP!" - "Get lost twerp, we're busy!" - "Yeah, it's best served cold too. Or is it served hot...? Whatever." - "Ugh, you Brat-icoots are so annoying... Just let us have some peace, for my boss' sake!" [When interacting with Crash] "What do you want, Brat-icoot? Im trying to reflect on my life's mistakes here." "You may ask... How did I become Cortex's racing partner...? Well uh.. It's a funny story. But i think it was after i asked you if i could join you since i didn't have a car and Von Clutch says I 'Can't drive vell'. The nerve!" "God, i hate my life-- Oh, Crash! Didn't see you there! Now get lost before I PUNT YOU!" "I wish Dingodile was in this game... Ooh! Maybe he's in the crowd?? I bet he loves the way i roll..." [sighs dreamily] "Huh? ...AGHH!! FORGET WHAT I SAID, BRAT-ICOOT!" "Yes sir, i got it, foot massage at half-past thirty right after dinner, and bedtime storytime at 9 o'clock sharp, noted. Later." [Hungs up the phone and then Notices crash infront of her] "Uhh... You heard nothing. I was just having a chitchat on the phone." "Crash, I know i'm not supposed to say this. But thank god my boss isn't here so... Keep this between us for a minute before he finds out..." [Inhale] "He sucks his thumb in his sleep and apparently when stressed he uses my tail as a security blankie while HE STILL HAS HIS OWN IN HIS POCKET! Even though sometimes it's in the wash... There, just keep this between us. And his snoring, UGH! Okay... I said too much. Go on with your little tralala trip now." "Don't mind me, i'm just getting churros for me, Nina, N. Gin and the boss. You know just because i'm a villain, that doesn't mean i dont share my food with my coworker, godchild and partner in crime." "Oh Crash, I need your help. Boss left his stuffed bear in those gears. Mind getting it for me before he goes on a tantrum during bedtime?" "Go away before i punch you through your skull, brat-icoot. I'm really busy here."

[blackbird-brewster]

i’m ok! i haven’t been on my phone much seeing as as soon as i get home these days i just sleep to avoid doing things! which is unhealthy but i don’t care to be honest. how are u? and im so excited! as i am for literally everything u write. a few nights ago i went thru jara tag on ao3 which is literally just u (thank u for ur service) it was like my bedtime stories to myslef and it was wonderful

-tjj ❤️❤️

Oh no, that sounds like a rough routine. Hopefully, the sleeping is beneficial to you. I have chronic fatigue and I know that feeling of crashing as soon as I get home

I'm doing okay! Just trying to get back into my writing routine now that summer is winding down around here. Hoping my new little desk setup will help me feel inspired.

You are so sweet! I genuinely appreciate your kind words about my fics. I dream of a day when there will be other people writing Jara!!! 🙏🙏 Mainly because sometimes I really want to read Jara fic but I can only read my own fic so many times before I become overly critical, yanno?

I hold on to hope! I mean, when I started writing CM fic in 2014, there were only 82 Jemily fics total on AO3!!! Now, it's the most popular femslash pairing. Even the Temily tag has even grown exponentially in the past year or so.

Who knows! Maybe people will soon realise how great JJ/Tara are together 🥺🥵

[m-jelly]

How about Levi accidentally discovers and sees reader, who is a sleep walker, walking in the corridor/hallway/or maybe infront of his office while sleeping. Levi wants to help the reader he will accompany the reader or maybe they will sleep together to help the reader sleep comfortably at night and he will do everything to make the reader comfortable in sleeping so that the reader can no longer sleep walk. I'm sorry, grammar is so bad akdknfkakz.

So, I've never sleepwalked in my life, so I am sorry if I get it all wrong and make it too much like in the movies. I'll try my best <3

Sleep buddies.

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Genre and tags: Canon world, cute, romance, new couple, Levi looking after reader, sleepwalking reader, happy ending.

Concept: You and Levi are a new couple and he's just gotten past the very flustered and nervous phase, so he's a lot more relaxed with you and loves to cuddle and kiss. You both haven't shared a bed just for just sleeping because you seem a bit nervous about it, but not for the reasons Levi thinks. One night Levi hears a light tapping against his door and finds you tapping your head against his door as you sleepwalk. He follows you around the base and guides you to bed. He follows you a few nights and has a chat with you, in the end, you sleep in Levi's bed to help.

Levi sat in his office and worked under candlelight with you on his mind. He couldn't stop thinking about you. He had fallen hard for you and wanted to be with you whenever possible, but for some reason when it came to bedtime you stayed away. He was thinking there was something wrong with him.

He frowned a little when he heard tapping on his door. He gritted his teeth and felt pissed. He was sure some cadet was messing about, or it was a rat or mouse. He stormed over to his door and threw it open. He jumped when you stumbled forwards in your bed things.

Levi caught you in his arms. He said your name softly. "Did you come to see me?" He lifted your head. "Brat?"

You hummed. "Tea...need...tea for...Levi..."

"I'm Levi."

You hugged him and hummed. "Love you."

He blushed at your words. "Tch, love you too."

You stumbled from him. "Tea..."

Levi grabbed you and then guided you to his bedroom. "Come on brat, let's get you into bed." He helped you into his, then tucked you in. "Sleep here."

"Nice man."

He sat on the bed and smiled. "I try." He played with your hair a little. "Can't believe you dream of me." He went to get up, but something pulled him back. He looked down to see you had a tight hold on him. "Alright, alright, I'll sleep next to you." He lay down and held you close. "Tch, damn cute brat."

You hummed and woke up in a warm embrace. You gasped when you saw it was Levi holding you and he was sleeping. "Umm...Levi?"

Levi opened his eyes and moaned. "Morning." He hugged you tightly and let out a long sigh. "I'm supposed to wake up first, so go back to sleep."

You blushed. "I ah...how did I end up here?"

"You walked here."

You rubbed your eyes. "I did? Hmm..." You sat up making Levi growl. "I should do some work."

He lay on his back. "You're going to leave me already?"

You leaned over him. "I have work, but I'll come back later." You kissed him and hummed in happiness. "See you a bit later."

He pouted a little. "Fine."

Levi let you leave, then spent lunch and dinner with you. When night came, you went to your bedroom and Levi waited up. He walked down the hall, then leaned against the wall and watched. He smiled after two hours when you came walking out of your room.

You hummed and stumbled. "Levi...cuddles..."

Levi walked over to you and called your name. "Where you going?"

You walked up to him. "Prince man...need Levi."

He smiled a little. "I'll help you find him."

You hurried past him and into the mess hall. "Dinner...tea pie."

Levi grabbed you before you could go into the kitchen. "You've already made the pie."

You rolled in Levi's arms. "Horse birthday!" You fell out of Levi's arms and went out into the hall. "I'm late."

Levi ran after you. "You're not going outside."

"Pony party."

Levi grabbed you and picked you up. "Okay, no more following you around for fun. You're going to bed."

You flopped against Levi. "My husband...needs me..."

"Husband? Tch, since when have you been married?"

You moaned. "Levi."

Levi blushed hard. "Tch, damn brat." He lay you in his bed and fixed your hair. "You're a menace, but you're mine and I love you."

You rolled over. "Levi..."

He lay with you and held you tightly. "I've got you." Levi woke up before you this time and waited for you to wake. He couldn't stop smiling as he gazed at you. You were just so beautiful to him. He kissed you as you slowly woke up. "Morning."

You moaned. "Back again, huh?"

Levi propped his head upon his hand. "You're sleepwalking."

You flushed red. "I am? Oh no...I thought I grew out of it."

"It's okay. I've caught you every time you've done it."

You nibbled your lip as you hugged yourself. "That explains why I end up here. So, I keep finding you?"

He shook his head. "First night, yes, but other times I've found you and watched you. I've taken care of you."

"Thank you."

He slipped your hand over your waist. "You called me a prince and you also said we were married."

You rolled over and pressed your face into the pillow and whined. "Damn it!"

"You've been fun to watch. Last night you scared me. You wanted to go to a pony party with a tea pie for a horse's birthday."

You looked over at Levi as you snorted a laugh. "That's funny."

He leaned over and kissed your cheek. "It was a bit. So, talk to me about this sleepwalking."

You moved back onto your side. "I did it when I got stressed out. I guess I'm so worried and stressed about everything I've started again. I knew it'd happen, so I've been staying up. It seems I've been passing out and sleepwalking."

"Well, you seem to stop when I put you in my bed."

You blushed. "Maybe because I feel comfortable and safe with you."

Levi dragged you close by your lower back before kissing you. "Sleep with me from now on. I need to sleep more and so do you. You don't sleepwalk when I'm around. This would be good for us. Only if you want to."

You smiled. "I'd love to. Why not? I think it'd be nice. Plus, I'm always in your room anyway." You hugged him and smiled. "You soothe me. We both need to sleep and you will know if I get up and sleepwalk."

"I'll make preparations too. Make the room safe for you."

"Thank you." You yawned. "Can we spoon more?"

He blushed, then nodded shyly and held you. "Yes."

[eykismyfav]

hey! i loved your fic where all of the nwh villains share an apartment together. can you do more fics of those if you can? thank you!!

Genre: Fluff

Authors note: Hi so I do not have a lot of time this week to write but I have a couple of interaction written and wanted to share them. I will at a later date make each of these their own preference I hope that’s okay

Warning: Swearing. No Way Home Spoilers not really though.

Room is covered in some kind of green goo/ powder

Otto: “Go sit in the fucking corner Norman”

Norman: “Shut up Otto this is your fault too”

Otto: “How is this in anyway shape or form my fault?”

Norman: “You were in the room when it happened you could have stopped me.”

Otto:“Just get in the corner.”

Norman: “This is such bullshit”

Max + Connors + Y/N: “What the fuck kind of marital dispute did we just walk in on.”

Y/N: “I am not cleaning this shit up. That is way out of my pay grade”

Otto: “Already working on it.”

Daily argument in the apartment.

Otto: “Don’t be ridiculous I am clearly their favorite.”

Norman: “Bullshit they like me most!”

Max: “Are you blind they clearly view me as the best housemate.”

Connors: “I would like to argue I am their favorite no competition!”

Y/N wandering in knowing the argument is about who is their favorite alt universe guest: “Actually Marko is my favorite. He’s quiet and stays out of the way unless he is helping me. Also he’s a really good cook so that is a bonus.”

Marko from the next room over where he is quietly reading a book: “Thanks Y/N! Your my favorite too.”

Everyone Else: “You know what yeah that’s fair.”

Up past Bedtime

Otto: “You are a hazard to society Norman!”

Norman: “You take that back you bitch I am a gift to society and you would be lost without me!”

Y/N clearly done with there shit: “You are both menaces to me now go the fuck to sleep it’s like 3:00am this is why I told you no coffee after 3:00pm you can’t fall asleep.”

Otto: “Your not our Parent you can’t tell us what to do!”

Norman: “Yeah what he said!”

Y/N gives them the disappointed parent look

Otto + Norman: *sigh* “You win this round.” Both men proceed to sulk away into their rooms.

Y/N: “That’s what I thought.”

You can’t take them anywhere.

Otto: “This is humiliating.”

Norman: “It’s honestly disrespectful.”

Y/N walking down the sidewalk with them holding two of those kid backpack leash things: “You have no one but yourselves to blame for this situation you are the ones that kept wandering off.”

Tags: @simsiddy @druigswh0ree @happypixy380

[uwuwriting]

How the boys SIMP! w/ Bakugou, Kaminari and Todoroki

Request: I got like five requests about several of our favorite boys simping over their girlfriend so yeah, here we are. 

Hi I’m not dead, yet at least. I;m starting to believe that my brain will turn to goo after all the chemistry and biology I’ve been studying. Sorry for not posting, my tumblr decided to be a dick and deleted my queued posts so haha yeah. Anyways my posts won’t be as regural as they used to because school....kill me. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: SIMPING

Bakugou Katsuki

-Okay he is rather subtle with his simping. 

-He won’t straight up kiss the ground you walk on. 

-BUT he will be kinder and a little softer. 

-Maybe sometimes to the point others notice and it’s not a good look on him. 

-Or at least that’s what he believes. 

- “I have a reputation to keep, baby.”

-That was said behind closed doors at 3 am on the rare occassion he stayed past his bed time. 

-And yes he will ignore his bedtime for you. 

-One of his simping tactics. 

-He will cook for you, he will pretend that he’s annoyed that you aren’t eating well enough or healthy.

-So he becomes mama Bakugou and starts cooking for you.

-Bento boxes for school, snacks while you are studying, dinner and breakfast.

-He will teach you how to cook some dishes for when he is not here and you get hungry. 

- “We’re doing your favorite.”

- “Aww Katsuki, you know my favorite.”

- “Shut up dumbass and pay attention.”

-Speaks rather softly after a while, showing you how to correctly cut the ingredients and how to stir the mix without making a mess. 

-He will just leen on the counter and watch you add all the ingredients with that little concentrated pout on your lips. 

-His heart goes oops. 

-He will be so engrossed with your beauty that you’ll have to give him a small shake when you need him. 

-Pretends to enjoy what you’ve made if you messed it up somehow but will give you honest feed back and advice so you make something edible next time.

-You tend to spend the night at his dorm and he loves it. 

-It’s usually on accident.

-You cuddle him while he goes to sleep and your plan is to get up and leave once you have taken your fill. 

-But he is warm and oh so cuddly that you fall asleep as well. 

-He wakes up around ten o’clock everytime to make sure you left and when he still feels you next to him he just lets out the most genuine smile. 

-He will pull you flush to his chest *if you are not already* and take in your scent saying a little I love you before going back to sleep. 

-The next morning he will wake you up before anyone else gets up and walks you to your room. 

-Thankfully you are on the same floor so you don’t have to go far. 

-He always walks with you to and from class no matter his mood.

-He monitors his tone when he can help it and will warn you when his mood is really awful. 

-In general it’s the little things with him not grand gestures and all out simping. 

Kaminari Denki

-Worships the ground you walk on. 

-All out simping no shame. 

-He will straight up give his soul for you. 

-And he is rather proud of that fact. 

-The polar opposite of Bakugou. 

-And he can get on everyone’s nerves with his simping. 

-Picks you up form your dorm room every morning, carries your bag to class and opens every single door you come across.

-Gives you his food if you show the slightest of interest in his meal. 

- “Denki I just want a bite.”

- “I CAN GET ANOTHER ONE BABY!”

-Calm down sir....calm down. 

-Has canceled game night because you had period cramps. 

-The thing with that is you never actually asked him to come cuddle or something you just mentioned that you were heading to Recovery Girl for some pain killers. 

-Man was waiting you at her office in -0.5 seconds. 

- “I thought you were playing COD.”

- “I canceled.”

- “YOu wHAt?”

-Bakugou legit thinks you are the reason Kaminari keeps blowing them off. 

-That you are some type of overly clingy girlfriend. 

-DENKI IS AN OVERLY CLINGY GIRLFRIEND. 

-Has gone off on a russian dude because while you were playing COD together he said something about girls being really bad at video games. 

-Your man almost got banned.

-He skips class if you’re sick which is rather sweet but simultaneously really really dumb. 

-Aizawa is coming fro his ass in 3....2....1.

-Boy didn’t even reach your door. 

-You just heard your boyfriend’s girlish screams coming from down the hall followed by pleads of mercy. 

-You were -><- this close to going out there to see what was going on but then you heard Aizawa’s monotonous voice and just went back to sleep.

-He later came over and narrated his traumatic experience. 

-Poor baby just wanted to take care of you.

Todoroki Shouto

-He’s a mix of Bakugou and Denki.

-He likes being subtle and showering with affection behind closed doors but also will be at your beck and call. 

-In your or his room he likes to hold you close like really really close.

-Oh you are studying?

-Will just hug you from behind.

-You are watching something on Netflix?

-Will rest his head on your shoulder. 

-You do the same really because he is a very very touch starved baby and he needs more love. 

-He Likes to bring you food that Fuyumi makes. 

-He visits his sister on the regural so he always or almost always comes back with a small bento box with your name on it in Fuyumis delicate writing.

-Fuyumi loves you and she knows what a simp her baby brother is for you.

-In public he isn’t on Denki’s level.

-Yeah sure he will open the door for you.

-Sure he might ignore everyone else and only answer to you. 

-But that doesn’t make him an immediate simp.

-No no.

-What makes him a simp is the way he treats you during free period. 

-Clingy boy to the fullest.

-And a bonus, will do anything you ask. 

-You are doing a project and you need to test something in extreme heats? He has laready rolled up his sleeve.

-You are thirsty from studying? He is already on his way to buy you a water bottle. 

-He’s more of a protective simp.

-Considering who his father is he really gets protective over you whenever he is around. 

-Also doesn’t like training with you because he doesn’t want to accidently hurt you. 

-The last simp characteristic of his is drum roll......

-Your sleeping schedule. 

-It’s fucked up basically.

-You tend to study until you pass out in his room and he will always carry your to your dorm unless you tell him otherwise. 

-Will risk detention for being out past curfew just to get you to your room. 

-I LOVE HIM!

TAG TEAM AY:

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[ratofthemedievalsewers]

Heart of Steel - Part I

DBH Connor x Male Reader

Word Count: 2.5K+

Content warning: Minor injury detail, PTSD, language

Original game dialogue I got from this video:

https://youtu.be/32Np9LKI1Vg

We were attacked in the night.

After returning from a mission back to an outpost several miles from the red zone, we removed our gear save for a few pouches on our belts we could bother with later. Our team leader set up a fire while the SQ800s, CyberLife commissioned combat androids, began loading up the trucks with extra artillery and resources. A job that could have waited until morning, but Alpha always gave the androids something to do. He said that they creeped him out when they would just stand there in a dormant state, waiting for their next mission to be given to them.

"You know what I'm going to do when I get home?"

"Here we go again."

"I'm going to get me a WR400," Foxtrot; not everyone's favourite but he certainly kept us entertained when there was nothing to do.

"Uh-huh and with what money are you going to be using to pay for this WR400? A military salary definitely ain't gonna cut it." Echo always called out Foxtrot's bullshit, he was the only one that had the patience to deal with him.

"Fine, my birthday is comin' up, if you put towards two-thirds of what it costs we can share. How does that sound?"

"I am not sharing anything with you, I don't know what diseases you carry." Their constant back forth sent chuckles through the group.

"Alright, that's enough you two. It's getting late and past everyone's bedtime, I want you all awake by O-five-hundred at the latest," Alpha would often stop them before Foxtrot would take it too far, but he could never hide the twitching smile on his face.

"Yes sir," Foxtrot mock saluted as he stood from his seat around the campfire. "Hey Echo, that offer is still-"

One moment Foxtrot had a wide grin on his face, the next there was a hole in his head between his eyes, the sound of gunshot ringing in everyone's ears.

"SHOTS FIRED! GET TO COVER NOW!"

"FOXTROT IS DOWN! I REPEAT, FOXTROT IS DOWN!"

It was dark, we couldn't see where they were firing from. The android was the only one still standing, firing off in random directions as they were gunned down. The next was Delta, shot in the left shoulder, then the throat. My gun was back in my tent and there was no chance of me getting it. Stupid.

"MEDIC! GET TO DELTA! NOW!"

"GRENADE!"

I heard the thump by my feet before I saw it. You would think it would be terrifying, to know you're staring death in the face, but for a second it was peaceful. My body was cold and I already felt like a corpse, the Rigour Mortis freezing me in place, just softly gazing at what would kill me.

Something grabbed me before the grenade exploded, saving my life but destroying the android.

The bedsheets were crumpled and soaked in sweat again when my eyes shot open. It was hard to breathe, the panic was still running through me and closing up my throat at the memory.

In; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four. Out; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four.

It took a few minutes for me to remember where I was. That I was home and that I was safe. Out of nervous habit, I gripped my dog tags, they were wet from the sweat that had soaked through my shirt in the night.

"Shit." It was four in the morning, there was no chance of getting any more sleep and the station wouldn't be open for another two more hours at the least. Saying that; Fowler wanted to speak to me first thing, which never meant anything good for anyone.

It was aching again at the joint. The biomechanical component always felt itchy where it joined at the elbow. Anytime I would have that dream I would scratch at it in my sleep, it was like my subconscious knew it didn't belong. It knew my rotting left arm was still in the desert somewhere being picked apart by vultures.

It's almost ironic; to be saved by an android and then to have part of one attached to me. I hated it.

*****

"Morning Cyborg, you look like shit." Gavin was forever pleasant to talk to.

"Fuck off, Reed." He constantly hovered around the coffee machine, hogging it like it was his newborn baby. "Is Fowler in yet?"

"Not yet, you in trouble?" He took his time making his coffee, exceeding in being the department's resident asshat. "Did he catch you looking at porn on your work terminal again?"

"I'm pretty sure that's only ever happened to you." Not wanting to be reminded of his previous escapades I got no response. Gavin let out a small huff before moving to the side with his fresh cup of coffee, freeing up the machine.

"Officer (L/N)." Oh for fuck's sake.

"Sir?" Captain Fowler stood outside his office, his coat half soaked from the rain.

"My office, I need to speak to you." He didn't give a second glance to me before turning and letting the glass door shut behind him.

"Ha, good luck cyborg." Shooting Gavin the middle finger, I followed Captian Fowler into his office.

"What was it you wished to talk about, sir?" Feet shoulder-width apart, back straight and hands behind my back; habits from the army were destined to die hard. Often I would find myself moving my hand up to salute before leaving the presence of a superior, something else for Gavin to make fun of.

"You're aware of the deviant cases I've assigned to Lieutenant Anderson, correct?" Fowler sat at his desk, wet coat now hung on its rack, but there was slight dampness to his suit blazer where his coat had been left open.

"Yes sir. I believe he's being accompanied by a prototype RK800 from Cyberlife."

"That's correct. I'm sure you're aware that these deviancy cases are on the more..."

"Dangerous?"

"...Unpredictable side. Now, I can't exactly issue a gun to a prototype android if it's going to be in the field and, while I value Hank as a police officer, his record is on the rougher side."

"Captain Fowler, with all due respect, I don't believe-"

"Office (L/N), with all due respect, you don't have an opinion in this matter. I want you to accompany Lieutenant Anderson in these assignments just in case a deviant becomes too much for him or this android to handle. You've certainly got the skillset for it and you're not unfamiliar with working alongside androids, unlike quite a few officers in this department."

"I understand that, but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say I don't want to hear it." Captain Fowler didn't give me a chance to argue as he stood and walked to his office door, the annoyed look on his face worsening. "Hank, in my office!"

I let out a sigh before Captain Fowler turned back to his desk. Through the office wall made of glass Hank reluctantly made his way towards us grumbling something under his breath at the request, the RK800 model obediently following behind him like a little, lost puppy. Hank sat in the chair opposite Fowler while the android stood next to me, giving a small smile as a greeting.

Captain Fowler was the first to talk, "I've got ten new cases involving androids on my desk every day. We've always had isolated incidents, old ladies losing their android maids and that kind of crap... But now, we're getting reports of assaults and even homicides, like that guy last night. This isn't just cyberlife's problem anymore, it's now a criminal investigation and we've gotta deal with it before the shit hits the fan. I want you to investigate these cases, alongside officer (L/N) and see if there's any link."

"Why me? And why do I need a god damned partner? A stupid android is already too much. Why do I gotta be the one to deal with this shit?" Props to Hank for trying, but arguing with Fowler was like talking to a brick wall. "I am the least qualified cop in the country to handle this case! I know jack shit about androids, Jeffery. I can barely change the settings on my own phone."

"Everybody's overloaded. I think you're perfectly qualified for this type of investigation," They were already starting to blow up at each other.

"Bullshit! The truth is nobody wants to investigate these fuckin' androids and you left me holdin' the bag!"

"CyberLife sent over this android to help with this investigation and I've given you (L/N) as well. You've got a state of the art prototype and a leading police officer to act as your partners."

"No fuckin' way! I don't need partners, and certainly not this plastic prick and some action hero fucker."

"Nice working with you too, Lieutenant Anderson," I said under my breath, not intending for the others to hear. Connor turned his head slightly in my direction, I could see his LED blink yellow for a moment before going back to its bright blue.

"Hank, you are seriously starting to piss me off! You are a police lieutenant, you are supposed to do what I say and shut your goddamn mouth!"

"You know what my goddamn mouth has to say to you, huh?"

"I'll pretend like I didn't hear that, so I don't have to add any more pages to your disciplinary folder 'cause it already looks like a fuckin' novel! This conversation is over."

"Jeffrey, Jesus Christ! Why are you doin' this to me? You know how much I hate these fuckin' things. Why are you doin' this to me?" Most of the department knew why he had such a distaste towards androids, no one could necessarily blame him. Ever since losing his son Hank had become completely different as both a person and an officer. Admittedly, Fowler was harsh on him, but if he wasn't then Hank would drift.

"I've had just enough of your bitching. Either you do your job or you hand in your badge. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." Hank left in a strop, letting out his frustration on Fowler's office door.

"Well then..." Connor was quick to break the tense silence. His voice caught me off guard, it was smoother, more human than any android's I had heard before. The SQ800's voices had always been more robotic than other models so it had been a shock when the androids back home had sounded so normal, it felt like that all over again. It was jarring. "I won't keep you any longer. Have a nice day captain."

Connor left and I followed behind, giving a small nod of dismissal to Fowler despite him still looking at his terminal screen.

The android went straight to Hank either oblivious or ignoring the lieutenant's current bad mood, granted there was never a time the bastard was in a good mood. Heaven itself could rain down on Detroit and he'd huff at it like a hair in his food.

"I got the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant. I'd like you to know I'm very sorry about that. In any case, I'd like you to know I'm very to be working with you." Ever the enthusiast.

"I'd give in now. You're talking to a toddler in a fifty-year old's body and the toddler is having a hissy fit." I half sat and half leant against Hank's desk, using my arms to support my weight.

"Apologies, I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Connor, I am the android sent by CyberLife." He turned to me, a gentle and manufactured smile on his face. "It's a pleasure to be working with you too, officer (L/N). I'm sure we'll make a great team."

"Er... (Y/N) is just fine."

"Is there a desk anywhere I could use?"

"No one's using that one." Hank points to the desk opposite him, while still sulking like a child.

"Gasp, it speaks," I said in a sarcastic tone while turning to Hank.

"Fuck off. I've already got an android on my ass, I don't need you on it too."

I grabbed a terminal pad before perching myself back at the edge of Hank's desk while Connor got comfortable at the empty one. The light at the side of his head flashing yellow for a moment like he was hesitant to speak."You have a dog, right?"

"How do you know that?"

"The dog hairs on your chair. I like dogs. What's your dog's name?"

"What's it to you?" Hank shifted in his seat, "...Sumo... I call him Sumo."

"Under all those shitty shirts and questionable stains there's a warm, beating heart," I say more to myself than the other two, skimming over the recent case files sent in by Fowler.

"Officer (L/N)... (Y/N), knowing that we'd be working together I read your academy and field records. You have quite an interesting background."

"Oh yeah, then you understand that I may be a little driven to get these cases over with. I can't say I'm a fan of you terminators."

"I understand you have a... warped view of androids due to what you've experienced, but I hope you understand that I am your partner and not your enemy."

"Connor, you're not my partner, you're cyberlife's latest gizmo for us kick around." I sigh, turning to sit at my desk adjacent to hanks, taking the terminal pad with me. "Just look through the deviant case files. Terminals on your desk, knock yourself out."

They're nothing but machines. They are not your friends.

"Two-hundred and forty-three files, the first date back nine months. It all started in Detroit... And quickly spread across the country." Connor had only connected the terminal moments before.

"Don't work your CPU too hard," I mutter under my breath, catching a quick huff of amusement from Hank.

"An AX400 is reported to have murdered a man last night. That could be a good starting point for our investigation." Hank was doing his best to pretend Connor didn't exist, but the android was persistent. Connor stood from his chair and made his way into Hank's personal space.

"Uh, Jesus..." Hank turned his chair away.

"I understand you're facing personal issues, Lieutenant, but you need to move past them and-" For an android, Connor has some balls on him.

"Hey! Don't talk to me like you know me. I'm not your friend and I don't need your advice, okay?" Hank's mood had soured like milk, it wouldn't be long until Fowler was adding another page to Hank's disciplinary folder.

"I've been assigned this mission Lieutenant, I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working."

"Connor, you're just gonna-" I had wasted my breath, Hank had already stood and was grabbing onto Connor by the collar of his Cyberlife jacket and slamming against the screen next to his desk. "Hank!"

"Listen asshole. If it were up to me, I'd rather throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it. So, stop pissing me off... or things are gonna get nasty."

"Hank," I placed a hand on his shoulder to try and lightly pull him away from Connor but only earned a nasty side-eye. "Leave off him, you don't get paid enough to replace him."

"Lieutenant... Officer (L/N), uh... sorry to disturb you," Looks like the tin can was saved before Hank could knock the light out of him, "I have some information on the AX400 that killed that guy last night. It's been sighted in the Ravendale district."

"I'm on it." Hank didn't glance back when he dropped Connor's collar. The puppy dog look on his face almost made me feel bad for him... almost.

"Come on, WALL-E. Don't want to keep the old man waiting."

[thatweirdoleigh]

Socks (but i finish the fic)

Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Warnings; Eli’s a good husband, and the reader cries oh yeah and reader’s pregnant

a/n ; Here is the full thing!! Cause its cute and for once i actually like the thing that i made. 

Imma tag the people i think will enjoy this.

My moms  @elijahs-wife​ @hellotvshowtrash

The Murder aunts; @mikaelson-emma​ @dumble-daddy​

Other Family Members that i don’t really talk to but love and appreciate anyway!;  @xxwritemeastoryxx​  @ronniemikaelson​ @lady-salvatore @thatfanficstuff @zodiyack @auroracalisto​ @dizzydancingdreamer​ @imaginearyparties​ @alwaysfangirlingish​ 

The giggles of his sisters echoed through the halls and into the entry way as Elijah opened the front door and stepped into his family home. Hope’s laughter and the laughter of his brothers and their wives joining shortly after. Rebekah was telling stories again, of all the mishaps, mistakes and schemes from over the centuries. It made him smile. Today was a good day.

After everything that had happened over the centuries, particularly the past several decades, it seemed like a dream come true to finally feel like a family again. To feel the same humble happiness that they felt when they were all still human. Like touching the stars with their bare hands. So he savored the memories and the joy and the rest that it brought to himself and those he cared so dearly for.

Walking into the parlor he was greeted by the warm welcomes of his family.

“Brother!” Klaus, all but beamed, “Welcome home!” A chorus of welcome home and welcome back echoed behind him.

Elijah grinned, wholeheartedly approving of the laid back posture of his younger brother, his arm slung over the back of the couch behind the witch that Klaus had fallen in love with. It was a stark contrast to the rage and paranoia that plagued him for so many years. “Its good to be home!”

“How was your meeting with the contractor brother?” Finn queried, far more subdued than the others. Even though they had all forgiven him, and profusely apologized for 1000 years of pain, Finn still didn’t feel like he quite belonged with the rest of his family. A fact Elijah had been eager to fix once the realization had set in of exactly how shitty their treatment of him was. Courtesy of Camille, of course. However 900 years in a coffin is not forgotten overnight, so it was still a work in progress. So it further proved to warm Elijah’s heart when his eyes laid upon Finn and found him squished between Freya and Kol’s firecracker of a fiancé, instead of locked in his room.

Elijah smiled at Finn and placed his suit jacket over the back of an unoccupied chair, “It was good. We got all of the final details and planning done and now its we are just waiting for the town to give us a building permit”

“that’s good” Finn replied with a nod.

For context, Y/n was pregnant with Elijah’s child, a miracle given in the form of a spell cast as a wedding gift and created by Kol and Klaus’ wife. Y/n had all but declared that she wanted their children to have as normal lives as physically possible and while the Mikaelsons were hesitant to go along with this plan, it was agreed that perhaps living in a mansion with 4 witches, 6 vampires, and 3 hybrids was not a normal childhood. So it was agreed that they would own a separate family home to raise their children in while still visiting as often as physically possible.

As Elijah looked around and took in the the scene around him he noticed that y/n was not among his siblings and so begged the question as to where was his darling wife?

“If I may ask, where is y/n?”

It was Kol’s fiancé that pipped up. “She came rushing in with a bag, declared that she was going to enjoy her new socks and then she was taking a nap, You know how my twin is Elijah, she gets excited over the simplest things, and then she ran upstairs without another word. Imagine she is asleep by now. Probably has been for a while. ”

Elijah smiled and Keelin looked at her curiously, ”Socks?”

Elijah cleared her confusion “Yes Keelin. Socks. Its seems that my darling wife has developed an affinity for collecting and wearing the most colorful knee-high socks she can find”

“It is rather amusing to watch auntie y/ns excitement.” Hope testified from where she had tucked herself under her father’s other arm. “She rambled on about a pair she had found with neon green strips, all while eating a plate of bacon in the kitchen the other day”

Everyone laughed at the image, and Elijah just shook his head with mirth in his eyes, ”yes well, if you don’t mind I am going to join my wife and unborn child in bed. Goodnight to you all” and a chorus of goodnights followed him down the hall.

As Elijah climbed the stairs he couldn’t help but be reminded of how grateful of all of the things that life has granted him over the years. He had a beautiful wife that loved him and siblings that adored him and soon he would have children of his own.

As Elijah approached the door to his bedroom he couldn’t help but notice something was wrong. Stopping to listen he could hear sniffling and shaky breathes just beyond the door way.

“y/n?” he took the handle and pushed the door open.

There sitting in an armchair in the corner of their room was y/n. She was wearing one of Elijah’s Cambridge sweatshirts and a pair of his boxers. The sweatshirt was cream in color and it matched cream colored socks she held in her hand. While Elijah would normally fawn over how adorable she looked round with his child and dressed in his clothes he was more focused on the tears stains that and puffy red eyes that decorated the face of the love of his life.

Elijah was quick to kneel in front of her and cup her face in his hand “Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? Are you alright?” He placed his other hand on her belly and searched for some kind of injury to suggest that she was hurt.  

She looked at him with a watery smile, kissed his hand and said “I found a pair of socks that would match my favorite one of your sweatshirts and I got so excited to wear them.”

She held up the socks and gestured to her feet. “But I cant reach, so I cant put them on. And it made me so sad that I cried.”

Elijah’s face relaxed and he gave a sigh of relief, realizing it was something simple that he could easily fix. So he gently took the socks from her hands and unfolded them so he could put them on her. He rolled them up and then pulled them all the way up her legs to just below her knees and then gave a kiss to her nose. “there “ he whispered. “all better.”

“thank you ‘lijah.” She mumbled and then yawned.

“Oh. I think its bedtime.” He stated playfully.

“Im pregnant not two.” She grumbled with another yawn.

Elijah looked at her with nothing but adoration and said “baby you just cried over a pair of socks.” In response she pouted and Elijah couldn’t help but smile. 

“Alrighty. Bedtime!” He said scooping her up bridal-style. 

“you can’t be serious!” y/n scoffed. 

“Dead serious!” 

“Eli!” she whined, “don’t make puns when im annoyed at you! Then I can’t enjoy them!” 

Elijah only laughed, and then slowly spun her around in a circle. “wheeeeeee!” he said before gently tossing her on the bed. 

y/n looked up at her husband in exasperation as she watched him use vampire speed to strip to his underwear and climb onto the bed like a leopard on the prowl.  

“I love you.” he purred pressing a kiss to her swollen belly, eyes playfully looking up at her. 

She raised an eyebrow, “Me? Or your children?”. 

“Both” he replied, gently coercing her backwards onto the bed as he crawled farther up her body his hands rubbing circles into the sides of her stomach. y/n rolled her eyes and chuckled her amusement as he enveloped her in another kiss. 

Sighing happily y/n ran her hands through Elijah’s hair, as he eagerly deepened the kiss. However Elijah had to stop this blissful moment rather short. 

He furrowed his brow and pulled back slightly so he could see his wife’s eyes, “Children?” he questioned. “plural?” 

Now it was y/n’s turn to grin playfully. 

“I went to the doctors today.” She said eyes twinkling with mischief. “And i learned something rather interesting.”  

Elijah narrowed his eyes, recognizing that she was toying with him. “did you now?” 

“I did” she purred rubbing her hands down his neck and shoulders. “Apparently twins are not always magical miracle coincidences. More often than not they are genetic.” and as her smile grew bigger so did Elijah’s. “And considering that I am half of a set, I’d say the trait has passed on.” 

Elijah’s grinn was getting bigger by the second. “you mean to tell me. That not only am I getting one daughter.” he leaned in closer until their noses were touching. “I’m getting two?” 

“yes” she whispered seductively and elijah expressed his joy by kissing her again. 

“And do you wanna know what else I learned?” y/n said slyly as he trailed his kisses down her throat. He grunted quietly for her to continue and y/n leaned up and murmured in his ear, “Both of your ‘daughters’ are sons” 

Elijah groaned and pulled back up to her face, “damn. I was really hoping was really hoping for a mini you.” he admitted swallowing y/ns laughter in another kiss. 

Y/n pulled him to lay beside her as they both got under the duvet and settled comfortably for bed. y/n lay on her side facing Elijah and he buried his face in her hair his hands finding their way to her rounded abdomen, joyful and excited to meet his children in the nearby future. 

“Eli?” she said softly. “will you sing to me?” she asked looking up at him. 

“Of course, My love” and so Elijah sang the same nordic lullaby his mother taught him all those years ago and they both drifted off to sleep. 

[wrenhyperfixates]

Don’t Gotta Work it Out

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: A particularly nasty fight rattles your relationship with Loki. Even as both of you wonder if you’re not meant to work things out, you long to be in each other’s arms. But can you make amenjds before your hope is gone? Warnings: mentions of depression; angst, some more angst, then a lot more angst, and finally a fluffy ending A/N: inspired by the song Don’t Gotta Work it Out by Fitz and the Tantrums. I’m experimenting with a new style, so flashbacks in italics! Hope you enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki had signed himself up for the mission before the words even left Tony’s mouth. He didn’t care where he was going or what he was doing, just so long as he was away from you. You’d gotten into a fight—a bad one. Somehow, Loki’s way of dealing with it was running away. Whether that was because of pride, pettiness, or cowardice, he wasn’t really sure. Then again, he was avoiding thinking about it as much as possible.

“I have volunteered for a mission,” he told you, the sentence short and clipped as he entered your shared quarters. “I leave at midnight.”

“Oh,” you replied, rolling over on your bed so you were facing your boyfriend. He’d already grabbed his bag and started packing. “That’s nice.”

A small hum of acknowledgement was all he made in the way of a response. He perched on the edge of the bed as he tugged on his boots. Right as he finished with the last buckle and was making ready to stand, your arms suddenly encircled his waist. For a minute, the room was filled with hesitation and quiet breathing, a spell of tension only broken when Loki’s hand alighted on top of yours. Not to say everything was fixed between you two, but the anxious energy in the room calmed a bit.

“Just... Come back safe, ok?” you said, your voice so soft, it just barely registered in his mind.

“Alright,” he whispered back. Your forehead rested in between his shoulder blades, and his thumb involuntarily began rubbing small circles on your skin. “I will.”

How Loki wished for more, for the passionate kisses that you usually shared before a mission. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen now. It might even be wrong considering how mad you were at each other, everything you’d said. Though, if it really was wrong, Loki didn’t think he much would have minded; it still would have felt good. Felt normal. Not like whatever messed up situation you were in right now.

You and the trickster god had been dating for over a year and, as any couple would, had a few squabbles. But nothing like what you’d gone through the other day. Loki shuddered now, just thinking about it. It started out stupid, as these things tend to, but turned into something much more serious. He tried to push it from his mind as you placed a featherlight kiss to the base of his neck. Then you pulled away, hugging your knees to your chest. Now it was Loki’s turn to look at you. His hand hovered above your knee for a second before he lost his nerve and let it fall to the mattress.

“I have to go now,” he said. “Take care of yourself.”

You nodded, and Loki walked to the door, looking back at you one last time. You’d already rolled over so your back was to him again, but he could tell you were crying from the way you were breathing. It made his heart break, but all he could do was whisper a small “I love you” and hope you heard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh. You’re awake,” you said, entering your quarters.

“I am,” Loki replied, staring at the fire crackling in the hearth. There was an open book in his lap, and you couldn’t help but wonder how long ago he’d given up on reading in favor of a contemplative trance, looking at the flames. “And you are home now. Are we all caught up?”

“Ok, it’s past someone’s bedtime,” you answered him, catching on to the ice in his voice. “And no, we’re not all caught up. What’s wrong?”

“You could have invited me.”

You’d gone bowling with roughly half the team, only leaving a note for Loki so he knew where you were. You huffed as you tossed your keys onto the dresser. Leaning back on it, you surveyed his face, set in a harsh manner.

“Sorry,” you shrugged. “You were in the shower, and I knew you wouldn’t want to come, anyway.”

“And what if I did?”

“Then, sorry again. You can come next time.”

“Oh, can I now?”

You pushed off the dresser and walked over to him, rubbing his shoulders a little. He didn’t shake you off, but he didn’t relax at all either. You frowned and walked around to the front of the chair, planting yourself in his lap. His arms instinctively wrapped around you, but his face was still stuck in a scowl.

“What’s this really about?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

“It hardly matters.”

You clenched your jaw a bit. You love Loki, but it’s hard to deal with him when he gets like this.

“If you’re going to brush it off,” you said, forcing a smile, “then don’t act so obviously upset and angry. I’m always here to talk, but if you’re not going to, then don’t pick a fight.”

“It seems to me you are the one picking a fight.”

“Yeah, ok. Whatever,” you snapped, standing up. You waited for him to clench his fists or give some sign he was feeling something, but he was as unreadable as ever. “I’ll just never have fun without you. Sound good?”

“You are blowing this out of proportion, darling,” he drawled. “You can calm down.”

“Oh, can I now?” you answered with a smug smile, the petty parts of you egging you on to parrot back his words from earlier.

He sprung up from his chair and approached you fast as lightning. It startled you, and you gasped, walking until your back was against the wall. Loki menaced over you, placing one hand next to your head. He made sure to leave the other side open so you could get away if you really wanted to. You didn’t, instead staring defiantly into his eyes.

“You should,” he growled. “Just invite me next time and drop this nonsense.”

“Wow,” you scoffed, crossing your arms as he made to spin away from you. “Just because no one’s ever cared to listen to you before doesn’t mean you get to make yourself a martyr.”

Your hands immediately flew to your mouth. Loki had shared everything about his past with you. Really and truly, every painful memory. Every ugly, gritty moment. You knew how much stuff like that damaged him. He spun back around, rage plain on his face, and a deep hurt lurking behind his eyes.

“Loki, I’m so sorry,” you said, rushing toward him. “I didn’t mean-”

He put up a hand to stop both your words and approach. “No. I think you did. It is my fault for believing a mortal of all beings could have any depth of understanding, of feeling. For thinking you could love me. The joke is on me, I suppose, hmm?”

He scoffed and stalked toward the door, refusing to let you see the tears in his eyes. He was yanking on the knob before you could even say his name again. The last thing he saw before slamming the door behind him was you crumpling on the ground in a sobbing mess. As he stomped down the hall, his own tears began to pour.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Loki, are you even trying to sleep?” Bruce asked from across the hotel room.

Tony had taken a room for himself and stuck Bruce and Loki together in an adjoining one. Thankfully, it had two beds, but Loki was still a little pissed. Honestly, he’d considered just skipping the hotel and going on a walk, a long walk. Instead, he was laying with his eyes open and glued to the ceiling, reliving the fight in his mind over and over again.

“Yes, Banner, I am,” the god huffed. “I am just not having any success.”

“Is there... something on your mind?” Bruce hesitantly asked. He and Loki were far from best friends, but he figured it would be considerate to ask.

“Actually, there is,” he sighed.

“Do you, uh, want to... talk about it?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “I suppose you are a doctor, after all.”

“Not that kind but-”

“My beloved and I have gotten into an argument, and now I am on this mission. So, we have not made up. I fear we never will.”

“Oh, come one. I’ve seen you two. How bad could it be?”

Loki sighed and sat up on the bed, recounting the story. He did his best to keep the tears out of his eyes and emotion out of his voice, and was met with far more success on the first front than the second.

“Yikes,” Bruce said when he finished. “I mean, they tried to say they didn’t mean it. And I’m sure you didn’t either. So maybe just try to talk?”

“Perhaps. Or maybe we are not supposed to work it out.”

“That’s crazy. Look at you right now; you can’t stop thinking about them.”

“And do you think they are thinking of me?”

“You know what, yeah. I do.”

Loki just mumbled his thanks and flipped onto his side so he was facing the wall now. Bruce went back to sleep, and Loki prayed that slumber would claim him. It did not, and he spent the whole night wishing for you. That he had never said those awful things. That he had never even been given the opportunity to know you, for if he didn’t, he never would have hurt you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You laid on the floor crying for hours. The notion that Loki would come back and wrap you in a hug and talk about what happened didn’t leave you be for hours. And then, all of a sudden, it did. Then you just felt empty and tired. Somehow, you managed to pick yourself up and drag yourself into bed, still in your clothes from the day. You waited another hour, still believing Loki would come back, if even just to lay beside you in the bed you shared and say nothing. When it became clear he wouldn’t, you submit to the tears still stinging the back of your eyes, and cried yourself to sleep.

Waking up the next morning, you didn’t immediately remember what had happened. You felt the empty space next to you where your boyfriend usually was. You listened for the running water of the shower that you could always hear on the mornings he wasn’t beside you. The silence was deafening.

“Loki?” you called out to the vacant room.

Only the echo of your voice answered you. Suddenly, the memory of the night before came crashing back into your mind. A strangled sob escaped your lips. You desperately looked around, frantically searching, begging, for some sort of sign that he’d returned in the night and had just left before you awakened. There was no indication that such a thing had happened.

Moving on autopilot, you found yourself in the shower. You tried to wash, but mainly just stood there and let the scalding spray run over you. Eventually, the stream turned cold as you used up the last of the warm water. You always enjoyed how plushy the towels in the Tower were, but you hardly noticed it as you dried off. Some water still dripping off you, you pulled on your robe. The mirror revealed that your eyes were still a little puffy from crying. Your pruny fingers touched the reddened skin, but you couldn’t be bothered to do anything to cover it up.

“You’re back,” you gasped, walking back out into the bedroom.

He was sitting in a chair, different from the one last night, this time actually reading the book he had. He looked so composed that it made you embarrassed by your appearance. You were sure he was just as much a mess on the inside as you were, though. At least you hoped he was.

“Mhm,” he replied. “And you are dripping on the carpet.”

You looked down where, surely enough, a small wet spot was gathering from the droplets rolling off your body. Everything was moving at half speed in your mind because of how drained you were, both physically and emotionally.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

He didn’t even really acknowledge it as he sidestepped around you and into the bathroom. A few seconds later, you heard the shower turn on. Summoning all your strength, you managed to get dressed for the day, encasing yourself in your most comfortable clothes. You looked at the door and considered getting something to eat, but the pull of your warm blankets was too great. The bed, devoid of your lover, reminded you too much of last night, though. You grabbed the blankets off and swaddled yourself in them on the couch. You tried to shut out the world and go back to sleep. It didn’t work.

“Darling?” Loki softly called as the bathroom door opened.

You wanted to reply, you really did, but it felt like too much effort to peel your eyes open and will your voice to work. So, you listened as he padded over to where you were. He sighed and left, leaving your quarters silent once more. You didn’t even have the energy left to cry.

Roughly ten minutes later, you heard the god come back in and set something on the coffee table. The aroma of pancakes, bacon, and tea flooded your senses seconds after, and you felt your heart somehow swell and break at the same moment. Loki’s hand softly touched your cheek and caressed it so gently, it seemed he was afraid you might break.

“Sleep well, my darling,” he whispered.

Loki kissed the top of your head as gently as he had touched your cheek, his damp hair tickling your skin. He stood up and, though you couldn’t see, felt him turn and look at you once more. Then the door closed, and the strength to cry returned to your body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Please, Steve,” you beseeched. “Just tell me where he is.”

“I’m sorry, you know I can’t.” He truly did look hurt that he had to keep this from you, especially when he noticed the tears welling in your eyes. “It’s top secret.”

You were trying to figure out where Loki was, if he was ok. You should have asked him more about the mission; he would have told you where he was going, rules be damned. But you hadn’t, so he hadn’t, and now he’d been gone for three days with no word on when he’d return. You tried his cell phone, but Steve had at least informed you that they had to turn off anything that could be tracked for the mission.

You felt so awful about what you’d said, the guilt gnawing at your heart every minute of every day, every dream of every night. If he were to die before you could work it out... you just didn’t know what you would do. Even if you never made up, you just needed him to make it back safely. Maybe you didn’t have to work it out, shouldn’t. Maybe you were a toxic poison ruining his life. Refusing to cry in front of Steve, you pushed the thought from your mind.

“But he’s my boyfriend. Doesn’t that count for something more than the rules?” you pleaded, the look of desperation in your eyes only growing.

“Sorry, but it doesn’t. Look, it would be different if you were married. What I can tell you,” he said with a sigh, and a quick glance over his shoulder, “is that he’s alive and safe.”

“Thank you,” you sniffled. “I guess that’s something, at least. When will he be back?”

“Soon, ok?”

“Ok,” you sniffled again.

You trudged over to the couch in the common room, trying to spend time someplace other than your room for the first time since the fight. Besides quick meals, you’d just been moping in your quarters. The thought crossed your mind that you were probably depressed, that you should get up and exercise or move about. Despite the knowledge of that, you couldn’t actually muster up the willpower to act on it. Instead, you flipped on the TV and pulled the blanket hanging over the back of the sofa snugly around your shoulders. The voice of Gordon Ramsey faded into background noise as you stared out the window, foolishly and fruitlessly hoping that you’d see Loki’s ship flying in.

“Monday,” Steve sighed, setting a mug of hot chocolate on a coaster for you.

“What?” you asked, slightly bewildered after abruptly being pulled from your trance.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you, but Loki’s coming back on Monday.” Steve sat beside you and comfortingly pat your back as you expressed your gratitude. “Can I give you some advice, though?”

“Please.”

“Whatever happened between you two, you can work it out. I promise.”

“I just feel so bad, Steve. I said something horrible that I never should have.” You bit your lip before continuing, nervous you were oversharing. The way your companion was sympathetically nodding his head, however, urged you on. “And then he said something awful too. And now he’s gone, and no one will even tell me where to find him. Maybe it’s a sign that we shouldn’t work it out. That we’re not right for each other.”

“Come on, that’s just the fear talking. I know sometimes the team grumbles about you guys, but it’s only because you’re so sweet together.” He waited for some sign of recognition that what he was saying was true to click on your face before continuing. “Take it from me, you don’t want to let an opportunity to pass you by; even more so when it comes to being with someone you love. You have to make the most of every moment. But you also have to be willing to work through your disagreements, even if they’re particularly bad. Heck, especially then.”

“Thanks, Steve.” You managed a smile. It was small, but it was also the first one that had made its way onto your face in nearly a week. Not only did you realize you had great friends surrounding you, but you felt a spark of hope that you could repair things with Loki. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. Now, want to come for a training session? Take your mind off things for a bit?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m still not really feeling up to it. But soon, I promise,” you added when a flash of worry danced across his face.

He gave a nod and one final friendly pat on the shoulder, then was off. You went back to staring out the window, now gently sipping on your cocoa. It was still a bit too hot, and it burnt your tongue a little. You knew you should wait until it cooled, but the pain kept you tethered to the earth instead of floating away. You also knew what Loki would say to that so, after a few more sips, you set it down to let it become a more drinkable temperature. As you waited, you let your mind be filled with thoughts of Loki, wondering if he was thinking of you too. Soon, your eyes were drooping shut, and you succumbed to dreams of happier times with your beloved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the day passed much the same, with you pretending to be asleep. Loki knew you were awake at some point, at least, to eat the food he’d brought. Otherwise, he would have flown into a panic that his little mortal was unwell. Or, more unwell than just in an emotional sense, anyway. There was one point where he saw your eyes crack open and look at him as he sat nearby, switching between reading and thinking. You didn’t say anything, though, so neither did he.

“Brother?” Thor said, knocking at the door. “Are you two in there?”

Loki rushed to the door and, opening it, shushed the God of Thunder. He gently closed the door behind him as not to wake you, thinking you may really be asleep now.

“We are, brother,” he whispered. “Why?”

“The team has not seen either of you all day. Is everything alright? Are either of you ill? Or perhaps you’re just having fun in there?” Thor playfully elbowed his brother in the ribs and suggestively wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh, and why are we whispering?”

“Because my beloved is sleeping.” Loki felt a prick of fear in his heart. Maybe he had lost the privilege of calling you his beloved. “We are ok. Relatively.”

“Relatively?”

“Yes. We... We had a fight,” Loki exhaled. “It was not pretty.”

“But you are going to work it out, right?” Thor sighed when Loki said nothing. “Oh, come on, brother. You must talk to them.”

“I will. At some point.”

With some final words of encouragement, Thor let his brother be. Loki took a deep breath and reentered his room. You were sitting up on the couch, twiddling with your thumbs, eyes cast down. He tentatively sat at the end by your feet. Elbows on his knees, he buried his head in his hands.

“Well,” he said to the floor, “are we going to talk about it?”

He felt you flinch at how angry he sounded, while he mentally kicked himself for the same reason. He peeked out from behind his hands, trying to compose himself so he could speak to you in a calm voice.

“I mean,” you said, “if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, and you do not want it?” he snapped, silently cursing himself again.

“Please,” you scoffed, “don’t do anything for my sake.”

Now you were both angry at yourselves, and completely honestly, the other too. When it became clear neither of you was going to say anything else, Loki stood to leave. He spun back around when he heard you mumble something under your breath.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said in a too-sweet voice, making the pet name sound more like a threat or a mockery than anything else. “I did not quite get that. Would you like to speak up?”

“Yeah,” you snarled, this time loud enough for him to hear. “I said, ‘so you’re really just gonna walk out again, huh?’”

“Oh, allow me to apologize. I must have been making myself a martyr again, hmm? Was that not what you said last night? Or perhaps that was just me blowing things out of proportion again?” He looked down at you as a panic flooded every inch of your body. Loki wanted to stop, but his floodgates had been opened. “But I thought that no one cared to listen to me. Again, I do believe those are your words, not mine.”

“That’s not- I didn’t- I’m not-” you struggled to form a coherent sentence. “I didn’t mean that!”

“No? But it is what you said. Perhaps it was that ever condemning Freudian slip of the tongue? Or do you think yourself so special, mortal, that you care? For I know no one else ever has; I did not need you to tell me that,” he spat.

“You know what?” you laughed without mirth. “You’re right, this isn’t what I want.”

Loki knew he’d pushed too far. His voice grew immensely softer as he spoke again. Not in a kind way, but in a way that showed he was afraid.

“And what exactly, do you mean by ‘this’?”

“This, what we’re doing now. I don’t know what it is, but if it’s your way of talking about what’s wrong and working it out, it’s not what I want. I guess you should just go, Loki.”

Loki hated himself. No, that wasn’t strong enough. He loathed himself, utterly and completely. He slammed the door behind him, and immediately sank back against it, falling to the floor. Neither of you heard the other’s sobs over your the sound of your own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Though Monday was only two days after Steve told you it would be the date of Loki’s arrival, it felt like years elapsed in those forty-eight hours. By some miracle that, you thought with a tiny laugh, Loki would have said was thanks to the Norns, you managed to get yourself into a presentable state. Shower? Check. Teeth brushed? Check. Eyes normal and not red from crying? As checked as it could be.

Steve had promised that he’d get Loki to go to your room straight away. You figured if you two were going to have it out again, it should be in private. Though, you were hoping it would go a great deal better than last time. You could only hope that some time and space was all the two of you would need to finally work through this.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the doorknob turned and Loki shuffled in. The door softly clicked shut behind him, and you tried to quell your worry that your conversation would end with him slamming it again. He dropped his bag at his feet, and for a second, the world stopped. You just looked at each other, both too afraid to end the moment of peace.

“I am back,” he gently said, opening his arms to you.

You took a single hesitant step forward before fully launching yourself into his arms. He caught you with surprising grace, and though he seemed unsure of himself, calmly rubbed your back.

“Can we... Can we try again?” you asked, pulling back enough so you could look into his beautiful, blue-green eyes. “The working things out, I mean. Can we try that again?”

“Yes, my darling.” The pet name had returned to something more gentle, holding the usual care and affection it did. “I’d love nothing more.”

Hand in hand, you walked toward the couch. This time you sat with bodies angling towards each other, already starting off on a high note. It made both of you feel the other was much more willing to listen to what you had to say.

“Shall I start?” he asked, cupping your cheek.

“No, I want to go first.” Your hand rested on top of his and you leaned into his touch. “If that’s alright with you?”

“It is. Please, speak your mind, my sweet.”

You took a steadying breath before you began. “Look, I’m so sorry for what I said. I was frustrated, and I lashed out. But that’s no excuse for it. I never in a million years should have said what I did. It was wrong and insensitive. And I do care for you so, so much on so, so many different levels. I’m sorry I ever made you doubt that. I will spend every day of the rest of my life reassuring you that I love you, Loki. I love you.”

“I accept your apology, and I love you, too.” A single tear rolled down his cheek, but you knew it was from happiness. After all, several tears of the same emotion had fallen down your own cheeks. “Now, it is my turn to say I am sorry. I was unreceptive, pushy, snappy, and cruel. I should not have responded in that manner, and I should have been more open to working through the problem. My insecurities got the better of me, but I promise I will try to keep them at bay. Because I have you, darling, and I love you. And I have no doubt that you do feel the same.”

“I forgive you, too, Loki. I’m ready to put this behind us if you are.”

“Absolutely I am,” he replied, smiling—really smiling—for what felt like the first time in a century. “And, if I may be so bold, I do believe we have a week’s worth of kisses to make up for.”

“The math checks out,” you giggled, leaning in. “I certainly wouldn’t be opposed if you wanted to start playing catch up now.”

“It is like you have read my mind.”

You gave him one quick peck on the lips before he pulled you flush against him and kissed you like there was no tomorrow. Maybe it was because he’d been so worried that there wouldn’t be. But, in the end, there was. Because you worked it out. Because you loved each other. Because you were two hearts connected as one in the crazy journey called life. And you’d always find a way to work through your differences. For, deep down, you both knew you were meant to be together, would always find your way back to each other. There was nothing either of you believed more, and you’d never doubt it again.

[galaxysgal]

More Than Anything Else || Maxwell Lord

Pairing: Maxwell Lord × fem!reader

Summary: He thought for a moment, still tugging the comb through his hair. You stepped over to him, kissing his shoulder and guiding him to sit down on the closed toilet lid. You brought the comb up to his hair, gently freeing it from the gel. He groaned softly, "After Anna I told myself I'd never get married again. But Alastair adores you, and I… I am in love with you, my dove. I see myself with you for the foreseeable future." He leaned his head back against your chest, eyes fluttering closed. "Marriage is nothing but a formality. You want to get married?"

Warnings: Descriptions of thunder/thunderstorm. Extreme fluff. Unedited, so typos probably.

A/N: I just wanted a cute lil fic of Reader and Alastair bonding, and then my writing demon grabbed my soul and decided to throw in some ✨marriage proposal✨ and ✨blended family✨ elements. Let me know if y'all want a part two to this bc I think that could be fun!! also y'all this is the third fic I've posted in the past right days wtf

Wordcount: 1.9k 🥰 I'm so proud of myself

shamelessly tagging @mandoalorian bc her max fics inspired me to finish this (hii 👋 ik we've literally never talked so sorry if it's weird to tag you)

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx

A knock on the bathroom door pulled you out of your comfortable haze. Alastair's quiet voice called out to you, and you checked to make sure your bubble bath was covering you before you told him to come in. His eyes were teary and he clutched a stuffed elephant tight to his chest, sniffling quietly.

"Alastair, what's wrong," you asked, but a loud crack of thunder answered the question for you. He flinched, his grip on Mr. Topper- his elephant- tightening more than seemed possible. "Are you afraid of the storm?"

"It's loud."

You smiled softly, drying off one hand and reaching out to hold his. "How about you go sit on the bed. I'll get dried off and you and me can wait for your daddy to get home."

Alastair nodded, ducking back out of the bathroom. You pulled the plug from the drain and stood up, toweling off and pulling on the sweats and sleep shirt you had left out on the counter. Maxwell was off at some fancy gala tonight, you hadn't felt like going so you offered to stay home with Alastair so he wouldn't have to go with his mom. Max's ex wife wasn't the most… attentive mother in the world, and ever since she moved in with her newest boyfriend, she barely payed Alastair any attention at all. Max was currently fighting to gain sole custody over his son. You could see the toll this took on Alastair, and your heart broke for him. No child deserved to go through this. So when you and Max were with Alastair you did everything in your power to show him a normal, healthy family was like. 

You stepped out into the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend, worrying when the bed looked empty. "Alastair? Where are you?"

"Right here," a head of dark hair poked out from under the pile of blankets at the edge of the bed and you sighed.

You held out your hand to him, "alright buddy, come on let's go downstairs. You want a snack?" 

Alastair hopped down from the bed and took your hand. He squeezed it tight as you headed down the stairs, flipping on the lights in the kitchen. "Can we make pancakes? With strawberries?" he asked.

You gave Alastair a warm smile, picking him up and sitting him on one of the bar stools at the counter. "I don't know about strawberries, but I'll see what we have."

The storm continued to worsen as you pulled out flour, baking powder and all the other things you needed for pancakes. Over on the other side of the counter Alastair was covering his ears, the thunder growing louder. The storm must have been coming directly at you, the wind was intense and you felt the cracks of thunder deep in your bones.

"I've got an idea," you told Alastair. "Stay there, I'll be right back." You headed into the living room, searching until you found your walkman. You turned it on and checked to make sure it was working, fixing the volume so it was loud enough to drown out some of the thunder, but not so loud that it would hurt Alastair's ears. When you could hear Andante, Andante by ABBA more than you could hear the thunder, you brought it back into the kitchen.

"What's that for?" Alastair asked.

"For you," you replied. "The music will help make the storm quieter, then it won't be as scary. That sound good?" Alastair nodded and you placed the attached headphones over his head, adjusting them until they fit snugly.

You pressed play and Alastair grinned, "I like this song!" he exclaimed, loud enough to make you jump a little. The headphones were definitely doing their job. "You and daddy like to dance to this."

"Yeah, we do," you replied, but Alastair couldn't hear you. You smiled, leaning over to kiss his head before continuing to mix up the batter for the pancakes.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

"If you and daddy got married, would that make you my mommy?"

You were sitting on the couch, Alastair snuggled into your side. The worst of the storm had passed and you had just finished up your batch of midnight pancakes. The question caught you off guard, he was looking up at you with wide brown eyes- his father's eyes- and you weren't sure what to say. "Well… If your dad and I got married, that would make me your step-mom, yeah." You brushed your fingers through Alastair's hair, "why do you ask?"

"I wish you were my mommy," he replied with a yawn. At that moment the front door opened, revealing Max in his navy suit. "Daddy!" Alastair jumped up and ran to him.

"Alastair-" Max caught him, giving his son a tight hug. "What are you doing up? It is past your bedtime."

"Couldn't sleep, 'cause of the storm," you piped up, stepping over to Max and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "We made pancakes." Alastair nodded and yawned again, and you reached out to smooth his hair.

"I think that it's time to get you back to bed," Max said, noting how Alastair's eyes drooped. He turned to you, "can you grab Mr. Topper?"

You grabbed the stuffed elephant and followed Max upstairs. You adored how he was with his son. He had really changed, since everything that had gone down with the Dreamstone. Max had set his priorities straight, putting Alastair and you above his oil business.

You sat down on the foot of Alastair's bed, watching as Max tucked him in. It warmed your heart to see them together. You had been with Alastair in the moments just before Max renounced his wish, when the world was crashing around you and Alastair was staring at his father on the TV screen, watching the crazed look in his eyes. You had held Alastair close, letting him hide his face in your neck as you rocked him, trying to keep him calm through all that was going on. You clung to Alastair as you watched Max on the TV, tears streaming down your face, praying to whatever god would listen that Max- your Max- would come home to you.

And he did.

He returned to your home, stumbling through the door to try and find Alastair. He was disheveled, tired and frightened, but altogether not worse for the wear. His arms were around you the moment he let go of Alastair, pulling you tight to him and still holding his son against his hip.

"My dove," he had said, tears falling from his eyes as he held you. "I am so sorry, for the hurt I have caused you. For the hurt I have caused the world. For the pain that I have put on you and on Alastair. You didn't deserve this."

You had shushed him then, your own tears joining his as you pressed your forehead to his. You were grasping at whatever parts of him you could reach, his cheek, his neck, the back of his head, anything to tell yourself that this wasn't a dream. That this wasn't just a wish come true. That this was more, and this was real. "I forgive you, Max. I forgive you. And with time, so will the rest of the world."

You were pulled back into the present when Max stood up, and Alastair reached out for you. "Goodnight Alastair," you said with a smile, leaning down to give him a tight hug. "Sleep well."

Max got the light and gently shut his son's door, pulling you to his side and kissing your temple. It was late and you were tired, so you were grateful to be able to lean on him until you made it back to the bedroom. You watched as Max stripped off his suit jacket, loosened his tie and undid the top buttons of his pristine white button up. His gelled back hair was beginning to fall at the edges, while the top remained stiff as a board. It made you smile, seeing his put-together look begin to fall a little. The bottle-blind of his hair was beginning to grow out, and you had convinced Max not to dye it again. You reveled in the brunet peeking out at his roots, longing for the day when the gold was all gone and he had returned to his natural self, the last traces of the harsh, power hungry man you'd all like to forget dead and gone, once and for all. 

"Alastair asked me something tonight," you said as Max moved into the bathroom.

"Oh? And what did he ask?"

You wrung your hands behind your back, leaning on the doorframe. "He asked if you and I got married, if that would make me his mom."

"Marriage…" Max mused, meeting your eyes in the mirror. "Is that something you'd want?"

"I have to admit it does sound nice, being your wife," you replied. "But I know you went through a lot with Anna. Is marriage something that you'd want, Max?"

A soft smile found its way onto your lips and you leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Is this a proposal?"

He thought for a moment, still tugging the comb through his hair. You stepped over to him, kissing his shoulder and guiding him to sit down on the closed toilet lid. You brought the comb up to his hair, gently freeing it from the gel. He groaned softly, "After Anna I told myself I'd never get married again. But Alastair adores you, and I… I am in love with you, my dove. I see myself with you for the foreseeable future." He leaned his head back against your chest, eyes fluttering closed. "Marriage is nothing but a formality. You want to get married?" he chuckled.

"It depends," Max turned around to face you, his hands coming to rest on your hips, "are you saying yes?" He looked up at you almost shyly, and you brushed pieces of his golden hair back from his forehead.

"Maybe," you teased, but it didn't matter anyway.

"It's not a proposal. At least, it isn't yet." He stood, taking your face in his hands. "I want everything to be perfect, like a fairytale-"

"Max it doesn't-" you started to protest, but his lips on yours silenced you. He kissed you with gentle lips, caressing your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"I want it to be perfect for you. You deserve everything and more, my love."

You smiled, knowing that this was just how Max was. He was eager to prove himself worthy, although he had nothing to prove to you. You were already captivated by him. Here was no fighting it, you were his. You leaned in to peck his lips, "I'm sure it'll be perfect, Max. Anything you do, it's already perfect to me because it's you."

His gaze rested on you for a moment longer, deep brown eyes soft and full of love. "Come on," he said, "let's get to bed."

The room was silent except the sound of the two of you shuffling about, you pulling back the covers and Max changing into his pajamas. You were nearly asleep when he joined you, the bed dipping slightly as he climbed in. You tucked yourself into his side, the warmth of his arms lulling you to sleep.

The last thing you heard before you dozed off was Max's voice, quiet as a mouse. "I do intend to marry you, my dove, because I love you more than anything else."

End.

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