#you will know but for gods sake only fall in with one of the kings you already trust extremely holy shit

[evilminji]

O.O!!! :Dc wait a second.... Aquaman >.>

Good JOB Brain! That IS a good idea!

Don't know if YOU GUYS all know this? But Arthur? Son of a Lighthouse keeper and the Queen of Atlantis? THAT Arthur Curry aka. Orin? Has CONSIDERABLY enhanced durability. Like... *hit by a car* "ha. Cute." Enhanced.

It's because of the DEEP Sea water pressure he's built for.

I bring this up? Because the man is a legit BAMF. Absolutely TERRIFYING near any body of water. Dude has SUPER STRENGTH AND HYDROKINESIS. Not ONLY are YOU filled with water, but every street corner in the world has pipes! He is NEVER not armed.

That's not including the "yes I can ask a lobster to take your dick off" thing.

But most of all? He has the RAGE. The lifetime of injustice after injustice. His home under attack, his people suffering and regarded as LESS. The poison dumped into their air. Their lands taken, PRESUMED the property of land dwellers.

Treated as criminals and monsters should they DARE defend themselves.

Yet? He is a leader. A husband, father, mentor. The death of his child can not take from him that title. Nor years numb that pain. He strives to be good. Be wise. Live well.

Yet? There is once AGAIN fuckery in his ocean. Some "secret" lab. Poking at a swirling green portal. At the BOTTOM OF THE SEA. For God's sake, they DO REALIZE, you can't HIDE things from him down here, RIGHT?

It looks radioactive.

He refuses to have that so close to Atlantis.

Sends a notice up to the Watchtower, a call back to his Wife, and leads the gaurd team in. Painfully easy, really. Bog standard humans, caught off gaurd. Right until one of them does something... stupid.

He tries to blow the place. Destroy evidence. It would kill all of them. Which is not Arthur's main concern. No, what IS? Is that it would dump radioactive SOMETHING into the waters near Atlantis.

He dives forward. They struggle. A button is smashed and...

Their containment field drops.

They had been keeping it in a perfect vacuum.

Arthur is sucked in.

Watches, in free fall, as his men's faces turn to horror. As they desperately dive to follow him. Loyal. True. But ultimately too late. He curses himself as he loses sit of them. But forces himself to focus, twist, get his feet under him. His is in air, above LAND.

He hits HARD.

But not the ground like he had planned.

He's slamed, at an awkward, frantic, angle and knocked off course. His weight crashing down onto a scrawny slip of a boy, who weezes and struggles to get a proper grip. His arms not quite long enough to go all the way around his barrel of a chest.

He helps, by slinging an arm over his young savior.

Only then, does he notice, the tiny crown of ice and nebula, poking at a jaunty angle from the child's head.

Their landing would be rough, had Arthur not caught them, once he gets close enough to the ground. The young royal gasping for air, having clearly pushed his limits to get to Arthur in time. He hauls himself up. Not yet a man, but not as young as Arthur feared. His eyes glow.

"Hoooly SHIT. Are you okay?! I hit you really hard! I'm so, SO sorry! I panicked! And-"

Honestly? A little bruised. But nothings he's going to ADMIT too.

More concerning? The injuries.

There's a screech of tires turning sharp corners. Sirens getting closer. The young king whips around. Terror seeping onto his face. It gives Arthur an unobstructed view of pointed ears, softly glowing skin with star like freckles, and scars that creep up the child's neck. He does not like the picture being painted.

"We have to GO. Now. Please, I'll explain in a moment! But we have to go NOW!"

Really, REALLY does not like the picture. And he has WAYS of dealing with such things as this. But safety first. Prioritize the children. They go. He vows to get answers. And all around Amity? Certain individuals days are NUMBERED.

@babbling-babull @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe

[hydriko]

BREAK IT OFF.

gojo is finally out of the box : gojo satoru x gn!reader

genres / warnings : angst, hurt/no comfort, cursing, spoiler warnings⚠️!, reader is mad at gojo, mentions of character death, gojo is in love w reader but nothing is established, arguing, Gojo + Yuji survive bc I refuse to make them die, reader is also a teacher at JJT

notes : I was talking with a cai bot earlier so kinda inspired by it (sxgarcore on cai)! I was also feeling angsty 🤗 Also I've never exactly read the manga, so my knowledge is very general so please lmk if I've made any mistakes!

19 days that Gojo Satoru had been sealed in the prison realm by Kenjaku. Or, in your eyes, 19 days that Gojo Satoru left the world to suffer at the hands of Sukuna.

You hated him. You hated him for letting himself get sealed up, blaming him for all of the casualties and the people you’d lost. Students, for God’s sake, to be put up against the king of curses.

Gojo is the strongest, and there is no doubt about that. Your anger sometimes felt like you were doubting the abilities of you and your fellow sorcerers, because there was always a possibility that things would’ve ended up the same way with him there.

Still, you couldn’t help but be angry with him. Those 19 days, you along with everyone worried about his wellbeing and safety. All that time spent trying to get him back whilst fighting a demon from hell that possessed the body of Yuji Itadori.

You knew that Gojo had been unsealed, and you were trying your utmost best to avoid him. You knew that you’d lose your shit on him if you came face to face with him, so you decided to distance yourself for the sake of everyone’s happiness during recovery.

What you didn't know, though, was that those days felt like years to him, like an eternity on the brink of madness. It drove him insane knowing that he couldn’t be there to help, and the longer he was there the more he began to miss you. As soon as he was back, the first thing he wanted to do was see you again.

You were at JJT, not particularly doing anything other than roaming the hallways trying to clear your mind. The hallways were unusually empty, any typical day you’d probably be teaching your students—but that wasn’t the case now.

You rounded the corner, eyes focused on the ground when all of a sudden you walk straight into someone. You were about to say sorry before you actually realized who it was. Surprise! It’s Gojo.

When you first made eye contact with him, it practically made your blood run cold. But surprisingly, you didn’t feel the same amount of rage as you thought you would. Rather, you felt shocked, completely frozen.

"Long time no see, yeah?" He spoke after a good long minute of silence, putting on the same stupid smile that told you that he wasn’t actually happy. The same smile that said that nothing had happened, the smile that said that his mind was elsewhere.

"Gojo," You frowned, eyebrows furrowing and expression falling. You felt your shoulders slump slightly, almost as if you were disappointed at his presence.

You watched him tense, confusion creeping onto his features as the gears began to turn in his head.

He expected you to run into his arms, hug him, act like you missed him, anything but the way you were reacting right now.

"The one and only. Did ya miss me?" he laughed nervously, his smile faltering slightly. Why were you acting so…mad? Was it something he said?

"I'd ask Nanami that question," you scoffed at him, "He's dead."

Gojo knew that already, but it didn't hurt any less coming from you. He paused, the facade he wanted to put on so badly slowly slipping from his grasp.

"...I know," he muttered, a blank face replacing his previous, more confident one.

That was all he could say. He didn't even know what to say, especially with the way you surprised him with being so angry.

He knew that many important people were lost, but now he couldn't help but begin to think that maybe it was his fault that they died. That it was his fault because he couldn't be there to save them. The way you responded filled him up with pure guilt, and he didn’t like it.

You rolled your eyes, his bluntness pissing you off. You sighed, turning on your heel to go the other direction. You planned on going to the hospital in a bit to visit the injured others, along with Shoko who was there right now.

You didn't want to be anywhere near Gojo. Not now, not when you saw him being the reason that people were injured in the first place.

Gojo panicked a little as he saw you start to walk away, reaching out and grabbing your wrist to spin you back around. He couldn't just let you leave. He'd spent 19 days trying to escape, trying to see you again, and he was not going to let that chance go. "Where the hell are you going?"

"The hospital, where everyone is," You muttered, acting like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You weren't wrong, though; Nobara and Megumi were some of the few who were there now. You managed to get out with a couple of scars and bruises, but the others weren't so fortunate.

Gojo sighed softly, letting go of your wrist. He felt like he should've expected that answer, to be honest. Knowing that the people he cared about were injured, knowing that you probably were too, it all just didn't sit right with him.

"Yeah...of course," He put his hands back into his pockets, looking at the ground for a moment before looking back up at you. "Are you alright?"

"Why do you care?" You quipped, "It's not like you cared if we'd be alright when you got locked up."

Ouch. That one stung a little. But maybe he deserved it.

You knew you were being meaner than you should, and a part of you knew that it wasn't entirely Gojo's fault for getting sealed, but it felt right.

To you, Gojo was reckless; he was reckless enough to get sealed in the prison realm, to let everyone else handle the king of curses. Even so, he let Kenjaku and Sukuna have that kind of power, where they wouldn’t have to worry about the him because he was locked away.

You both stood in silence for a moment, albeit very uncomfortable silence. It felt suffocating to him, and it made him want to just hug you and apologize a million times over. But he just couldn’t.

“I just—” you paused, sighing as you thought about what to say, “I just wish you were there.”

The hint of pain in your voice almost killed Gojo. He should’ve been there. He knew that much.

Gojo kept quiet, completely unsure how to respond to you. You, the person here probably cared about the most, hated him the most right now. He wanted to fix it all, to time travel back so that he wouldn’t be sealed up. He wanted to make it better but he didn’t even know where to start.

With his lack of response, you took that as your queue to leave. You turned once again, this time leaving Gojo where he stood.

You didn’t know if you could forgive him, at least not soon. You’d let it be, but who knows how long it’ll take you to come back around? It could be weeks, months, years—all options left a sour taste in Gojo’s mouth.

[bestworstcase]

First i want to say that i love your rwby analysys, but i just discovered your blog, so can you explain to me why you hate Ozpin so much? Like, every minor thing he does and says must have some malicious intention behind it, but everything Salem does is part of a big plan that means that she's not actually evil?

ooh it’s been a while since we had one of these! 1. i think perhaps a closer read of my salem analysis is called for, because you’ll notice that i am, er, not shy about noting that salem is evil and this is in fact a central tenet of my reading of the narrative; i just don’t think she’s a one-note genocidal lunatic and it is extremely obvious that the narrative is heading in a "the brothers were and are wrong, and salem wants them gone" direction; 2. oz is second in my heart only to salem and cinder, which sort of speaks for itself in terms of "this character did bad things!" not being remotely a bad thing in my book, 3. and speaking of cinder, i get exactly as cranky about uwuified fanon sad wet rag ozpin who’s never done a thing wrong as i do uwufied fanon poor wittle cindy who doesn’t want to hurt people but salem makes her do it for exactly the same reason, which is that it strips out everything that makes these characters narratively and emotionally compelling in favor of mashing them into gutless marshmallow pod people for the sake of… i don’t know, making them neat and bland and easily digestible, i guess? uwu?

4. this is an ozlem house

5. i don’t think ozma has ever acted with malicious intention; rather, he’s been coerced into this situation where his faith in his god, his intense desire to do the right thing, and his terror of what will happen if he fails or disobeys—in combination with a divine curse that is literally designed to prevent him from being able to change or break free, because he has a reflection of himself monitoring his thoughts and actions all the time—are at war with his true desire (he wants to be with salem) and his conscience (he knows that salem was right about what is necessary to fulfill his task, that uniting the whole world under one creed is impossible except by genocidal conquest, and he cannot bring himself to do it because it’s wrong). he’s trying very hard to do the right thing in a situation where he genuinely believes his only options are to commit genocide for his god or sacrifice the whole world for his love and he is desperate to figure out a third option that does not end with "rocks fall everybody dies;" thence the lies and manipulation and all the miserable moral sacrifices he’s ever made.

6. the reason this is an ozlem house, in the sense that my reading of the narrative in its entirety is predicated on the ozlem reconciliation, is that salem and ozma are two sides of a coin: she is doing terrible things in pursuit of a world where the gods aren’t holding a knife to remnant’s throat and he has done terrible things for the sake of the same. their conflict isn’t evil-vs-good, but apostate-vs-zealot; salem believes the gods can and must be defied and ozma believes her defiance is doomed to failure. salem tells him that in order to unite the world he needs to spread his word and crush all who deny him; as the king of vale, ozma uses the divine relic of destruction to lay waste to not only his enemies but even his own allies, thus he forges the vytal accords that established the united global order in which the story takes place. he’s a better person than she is—because she’s been living in exile for thousands of years and her capacity for caring about other people has withered away to almost nothing as a consequence—but they are in every sense equals.

7. the narrative is overtly not on ozpin’s side? he has a whole atonement arc about it in atlas—& this is why i made the comparison to uwuified fanon cinder earlier, because the framing with regard to ozpin is very emphatically clear that he does a lot of things that are not good, and are in fact pretty sinister and in some cases (amber, pyrrha) outright evil, and he has to make the choice and put in real meaningful effort to be better. i don’t think there’s anything to be gained from ignoring what is plainly in the text of the story, especially when rwby is categorically disinterested in sorting its characters into neat little good-or-bad boxes. there’s no such thing as pure evil—that’s been the explicit textual conceit since volume one—and the implied converse is that there’s no such thing as pure good, either. (which is a conceit that ozlem exemplifies.)

8. i threw a fucking PARTY when we found out salem razed vale, i get the vapors every time i think about what sort of narrative escalation we can expect in V10 given that something as huge as razing vale can happen off screen to set the stakes for vacuo. not that i don’t also adore characters who are good or who (like oz in v7-8) grow and change to become better, because i do, but i really can’t emphasize enough how much i Do Not hate fictional characters on the basis of them doing awful things. what i want from a character is for them to be interesting, which ozpin is. what you’re perceiving as me hating on him is me dissecting him under a microscope because i love him to bits.

9. the ozlem screeds will continue until morale improves

[abyssalpriest]

honestly im gonna stop apologising and start saying if you want to understand the kings and the Void on a visceral level, play bloodborne. ideally invite lev to play with you he loves bloodborne its his baby

and when i say that i mean either ask him to fucking help you get through it because hes very fuckin good at the game, or ask him to talk to you through it like just go on a fucking journey and listen to him and you will find out shit you never dreamed of

[ryin-silverfish]

A Guide to the Chinese Underworld (and what it isn't)

As many FSYY and fox posts as there were on my blog, I am actually a huge fan of the Chinese Underworld mythos. Mostly because I was once a morbid little kid that loved reading about the excavations of ancient tombs, and found the statues depicting hellish torture in the Haw Par Villa "super cool".

Apart from the aesthetics, the history of its evolution is also fascinating. Most of us, Chinese or not, only know the most popular version of the Underworld——the "Ten Kings" system, yet that isn't always the case. So today, I'll start off with a short summary of that.

In pre-Qin era, there was already this generic idea of a "Realm of the Dead" called the Yellow Spring, Youdu, or Youming, but we know very little about it.

Then, in the Han dynasty, two ideas start to emerge: 1) the Underworld is a bureaucracy, 2) the God of Mt. Tai ruled over the dead.

This early bureaucracy might not function as an agent of punishment; the main focus was on keeping the dead segregated from the living so they wouldn't bring diseases and misfortune to the latter, as well as using those ghosts to enforce collective punishments upon people for their lineage's wrongdoings while they were still alive.

Post-Han, after Buddhism entered China and took root, its idea of karmic punishments and reincarnation and the figure of King Yama was merged with folk and Daoist ideas of the Underworld bureaucracy, and, came Tang dynasty, resulted in the "Ten Kings" system that first appeared in Dunhuang manuscripts.

It was very rudimentary and far from well-established, as seen in Tang legends, with some adopting the Ten Kings system, some sticking to the Lord of Mt. Tai and some favoring King Yama, and overall little agreements on who's in charge of the Underworld.

But the "Ten Kings" system would become the mainstream version from then onwards, used in Ming vernacular novels and made even more popular by folk religion scrolls like the Jade Records (Yuli Baochao).

As such, most points in the following sections will be based on the fully matured "Ten Kings" system of the Underworld, as seen in the Jade Records and JTTW.

What happens when you die?

(This is a fictionalized walkthrough of the posthumous fate of souls under the "Ten Kings" system. I try to stick to the very broad progression outlined in the Jade Records, but many creative liberties are taken on the details.)

Let's say there's a guy named Xiao Ming, and he had just died of a heart attack. Bummers. What now?

Well, the first thing he saw would be the ghost cops.

There isn't really an unanimous agreement on who these ghost cops are: they may be a pair of ghosts in white and black robes, wearing tall hats (Heibai Wuchang), they may have the heads of farm animals (Ox-Head and Horse-Face), or they can just be generic ghost bureaucrats. For convenience's sake, let's say it was the first scenario.

"Who are you guys and where are you taking me?"

"Glad you asked!" The taller ghost cop, being the cheerful one of the pair, replied. It wasn't very reassuring, considering that his tongue was dangling out of his mouth way further than it should. "I'm the White Impermanence, my sour-looking colleague here is the Black Impermanence, and we are taking you to the City God's office."

This City God, a.k.a. Chenghuang, is just like how it sounds: the divine guardian of a city, who also pulls double duty as the head of the local Dead People Customs Office. They are usually virtuous officials deified posthumously, and in JTTW, they fall under the category of "Ghostly immortals", together with the Earth Gods a.k.a. Tudi.

So Xiao Ming went with the two ghost cops——not like he had much of a choice, made his way through the long queue at the City God's office, and was now standing in front of a gruff old magistrate in traditional robes.

"Name?"

"Wang Xiao Ming."

"Age and birth dates?"

"21, April 16 2003…"

After he was done asking questions, the City God flipped through his ledger, then picked up a brush, ticked off Xiao Ming's name, and told him to go get his pass in the next room. More waiting in a queue. Wonderful.

"I never heard anything about needing a pass to get to the Underworld," the girl in front of Xiao Ming asked the ghost cops, who were standing guard nearby. "Is this a new policy or something?"

"Yeah. In the old days, we'd just drag y'all straight to the Ghost Gate." The ghost cop in black said, then muttered to himself, "Fuckin' paperworks and overpopulation, man…"

(This "Dead People Passport" thing was popularized in the middle-to-late Ming dynasty, as shown by the discovery of such documents inside tombs in southern China. )

(It might have evolved from similar passes to the Western Pure Land in lay Buddhism that recorded their acts of merits. Which, in turn, might be traced back to the "Dead People Belongings List" of Han dynasty, to be shown to Underworld bureaucrats so that no one would take away the dead's private property down there or something.)

Anyways, after he received his pass, Xiao Ming departed together with the rest of the bunch, to be led to the Ghost Gate. It was like the world's most depressing tourist group, where instead of tour guides, you got two ghost cops in funny hats, and the only scenery in sight was the desolation of the Yellow Spring Road.

They weren't the only travellers on the road, though. Xiao Ming noticed other groups moving in the far distance, behind the fog and the flickering ghostfire, led by similar figures in black and white.

It made a lot of sense; realistically, there was no way two ghost cops could fetch hundreds of thousands of dead people all by themselves.

(SEA Tang-ki mediums believed there were multiple Tua Di Ya Peks——Hokkien name for the Black and White Impermanences, working for different Underworld Courts.)

At last, the Ghost Gate stood in front of Xiao Ming, guarded by two towering figures. Normally, they'd be Ox-Head and Horse-Face, like what you see at Haw Par Villa's Underworld entrance.

However, older Han dynasty works like Wang Chong's 论衡·订鬼 also mentioned two gods, Shenshu and Yulei, as guardians of the Ghost Gate, who would use reed ropes to capture malicious ghosts and feed them to tigers, making them possibly the earliest incarnation of "Gate Gods".

So here, they were what Xiao Ming sees, standing side by side like proper doormen, silently watching herds of ghosts being funneled through the entrance.

The place was more crowded than a train station during the CNY Spring Rush; the ghost cops had already said their quick goodbye and left to fetch the next group of dead people, leaving the resident officials of the Underworld proper to maintain order and quell any would-be riots.

Now you started seeing the Ox-Head and Horse-Face guys, poking at unruly ghosts with their pitchforks and dragging away the violent ones in chains. Among their ranks were other monstrous beings, blue-faced yakshas and imps, but also regular dead humans who look 100% done with their jobs, like the lady who stamped Xiao Ming's pass when it was finally his turn.

After this point, Xiao Ming had entered the Underworld proper, and his next destination would be the First Court, led by King Qin'guang. Here, his fate should be decided by what is revealed in the King's magical mirror.

If Xiao Ming was a good guy, or someone who had done an equal amount of good and bad things in life, he'd be sent straight to the Tenth Court for reincarnation. However, if the mirror, while replaying his life events, had displayed more evil deeds than good ones, he'd be sent to one of the 2nd-9th Courts for judgment and then punished inside the Eighteen Hells.

Each of the Ten Kings was also assisted by ghostly judges. Many of them were righteous and just officials in life who had been recruited into the Ten Courts posthumously——Cui Jue from JTTW is one such example, while others were living people working part-time for the Underworld, like Wei Zheng, Taizong's minister.

We decide to be nice to Xiao Ming, so, after reliving some embarrassing childhood incidents and cringy teenage phases in front of a bunch of dead bureaucrats, he was found innocent and sent to the Tenth Court.

The queue here was almost as long as the First Court's, stretching on and on alongside of the banks of the Nai River. King of the Turning Wheel made his judgment without even lifting his head when it was Xiao Ming's turn:

"Path of Humans, male, healthy in body and mind, ordinary family. Next!"

Exiting the Tenth Court building, Xiao Ming saw the Terrace of Forgetfulness, standing tall before six bridges, made of gold, silver, jade, stone, wood, and…some unidentified material. Before he could get a good look at them and the little dots moving across those bridges, he was hurried into the Terrace by the ghostly officials.

Now, both JTTW and the Jade Records mention multiple bridges across the Nai River. In the former, there is 3, and the latter, 6. The bridges made of precious materials are for people who will reincarnate into better lives, as the wealthy, the fortunate, and the divine, while the Naihe Bridge is either the common option or the terribad shitty option.

However, the Naihe Bridge proved to be so iconic, it became THE bridge you walk across to reincarnate in popular legends.

Anyways, back to Xiao Ming. He found himself standing in a giant soup kitchen of sorts, with an old lady at the counter, scooping soup out of her steaming pot and into one cup after another.

This is Mengpo, the amnesia soup granny; according to the Jade Records, she was born in the Western Han era, and a pious cultivator who thought of neither the past nor the future, only knowing that her surname was Meng.

Made into an Underworld god by the Jade Emperor, she cooks a soup of five flavors that will wipe the memory of the dead, making sure they do not remember any of their past lives once they reincarnate.

It tastes awful. Like what you get after pouring corn syrup, coffee, chilli sauce, lemon juice and seawater into the same cup.

Such was Xiao Ming's last thought, as he gulped down the soup, and then he knew no more.

Things you should know about the Chinese Underworld:

1. It's not the Christian Hell.

Rather, the Chinese Underworld functions somewhat like the Purgatory, in that there are a lot of torment, but the torment's not eternal, however long the duration may be. Once you finish your sentence, you get reincarnated as something else, though that "something else" is not a guaranteed good birth.

Other people can also speed up the process via transferring of merits: hiring a priest/monk to chant sutras and perform rituals, for example, or performing good deeds in life in dedication to the dead, or they can pray to a Daoist/Buddhist deity to save their loved ones from a dreadful fate.

Interestingly enough, a thesis paper I read mentions that, whereas Buddhist salvation from the Hells was based on transference of merits——you give monks offerings and pay them to chant sutras, so they can cancel out the sinners' bad karma with good ones, Daoist ideas of salvation tend to involve the priest going down there, sorting it out with the Underworld officials, and taking the dead out of the Hells themselves.

(The paper also stops at the Northern-Southern and Tang dynasties, so the above is likely period-specific.)

2. Nor is it run by evil demons.

Underworld officials are not nice guys and look pretty monstrous and torture the sinful dead, but they are not the embodiment of evil. Rather, the faction as a whole is what I'd call Lawful Neutral, who function on this "An Eye for An Eye" logic, where every harm the sinner caused in life must be returned to them, in order for their karmic debts to be cleansed and move on to their next life.

They can absolutely be corrupt and incompetent and take bribes——Tang dynasty Zhiguai tales and Qing folklore compendiums featured plenty of such cases, but that's a very mundane and human kind of evil, not a cosmic/innate one.

This is just my personal opinion, but if you want to do an "evil" Chinese Underworld? It should be a very bureaucratic evil, whose leaders are bootlickers to the higher-ups, slavedrivers to their rank-and-file workers, and bullies who abuse their power over regular dead people.

Not, y'know, Satan and his infernal legions or conspiring Cthulu cultists.

3. The Ten Kings are not Hades.

Make no mistake, they still have a lot of power over your average dead mortal. But in the grand scheme of things? They are the backwater department of the pantheon, who only show up in JTTW to get pushed around and revive the occasional dead people.

When Taizong made his trip to the Underworld, the Ten Kings greeted him as equals——kings of ghosts to the king of the living. If they see themselves as equal in status to a mortal emperor, then, like any mortal emperors, they are subordinate to the Celestial Host, and the balance of power is not even remotely equal or in their favor.

Also, it isn't said outright, but under the Zhong-Lv classification of immortals JTTW is using, Underworld officials will likely be considered Ghostly immortals, the lowest and weakest of the five types, much like Tudis and Chenghuangs.

Essentially: they are ghosts that are powerful enough to not reincarnate and linger on and on, spirits of pure Yin as opposed to true immortals, who are beings of pure Yang.

It's pretty much the shittiest form of immortality, the result you get when you try to speedrun cultivation (the Zhong-Lv text also made a dig at Buddhist meditation here), and if they don't reincarnate or regain a physical body, there is no chance of progressing any further.

Oh, and fun fact? In the Song dynasty, commoners and literati elites alike believed that virtuous officials in life would get appointed as ghostly officials in death.

However, the latter viewed it as a punishment. Which was strange, considering how they still held the same position and the same amount of authority, just over dead people instead of living ones, so there should be no big losses, right?

Well...it was precisely the "dead people" part that made it a punishment. See, a lot of the power and prestige they had as officials came from the benefits they could bring to their families and kins and native places, as well as the potential wealth and reputation bonuses for themselves.

A job in the Dead People Supreme Court would give them the same workload, but with none of those benefits. Since all the dead people had to reincarnate eventually, they couldn't have a fixed group as their power base, or keep their old familial ties and connections. At most, they could help out an occasional dead relative or two.

Like, working for the Underworld Courts was the kind of deadend (no pun intended) job not even living officials wanted for themselves in the afterlife. That's how hilariously sad and pathetic they are.

4. In JTTW at least, they aren't even the highest authorities of the Underworld.

That would be Bodhisattva Ksitigarbha, who is technically their boss, though he seems to be more of a spiritual leader than someone who is actually involved in running the bureaucracy.

Which makes sense, since he has sworn an oath to not attain Buddhahood until all Hells are empty, and his role is to offer relief and salvation to the suffering souls, not judging and punishing them.

Now, historically...even though Ksitigarbha in early Tang legends was still the savior of the dead, he seemed to be unable to interfere with the judicial process of the Underworld, merely showing up to take people away before they were judged by King Yama.

However, in the mid-Tang apocryphal "Sutra of Bodhisattva Ksitigarbha" (地藏菩萨经), he had evolved into the equal of King Yama, with the power of supervision over his judgements. By the time the Scripture on the Ten Kings came out, in artistic depictions, the Ten Kings had become fully subservient to him.

5. Diyu usually refers to the prison-torture chamber part, not the courthouse, nor is it the entirety of the Underworld.

And for the majority of souls that haven't committed crimes, they'll only see the courthouse part before they are sent to reincarnation. That's why I personally don't like, or use the name Diyu for the Chinese Underworld: I prefer the term Difu ("Earth Mansions"), which encompasses the whole realm better.

Also: even though historical sources like the Scripture on the Ten Kings and Jade Records seem to suggest that the dead were just funneled through this Courthouse-Prison-Reincarnation pipeline with no breaks in between, in practice, that isn't the case.

According to popular folk beliefs, after the dead were done with their trials/sentences, they stayed in the Underworld for a period of time and led regular lives, while functioning as ancestor spirits and receiving offerings.

Which would imply that the Underworld had a civilian district of sorts, populated by regular ghosts, making the whole realm even less of a direct Hell/Purgatory equivalent.

6. It is located in a different realm, but still part of the Six Paths and doesn't exist outside of reality.

In Buddhist cosmology, like the Celestial Realm, the Underworld is part of the Realm of Desires and thus subject to all the woes of samsara.

The pain and misery of the Path of Hell may be the worst and most obvious, but becoming a celestial being isn't the goal of serious Buddhists either: despite all the pleasures and near-infinite lifespan they enjoy, they are not free from samsara and will eventually have to reincarnate.

So if, say, the world is being destroyed at the end of a kalpa, all beings of the Six Paths will perish alongside it, leaving behind a clean slate for the cycle to start anew. The dead won't all end up in the Underworld and face eternal damnation.

7. The Black and White Impermanences would not appear in the Underworld pantheon formally until the Qing dynasty.

The concept that when you die, you get fetched to the Underworld by petty ghost bureaucrats is already well-established in Tang legends, but these were just generic ghost bureaucrats in all sorts of colorful official robes, with yellow being the most common color.

The idea of there being two specific psychopomps in black and white would only become popular in the Qing dynasty. Mengpo is kinda similar: although she existed before the Ming-Qing era as a goddess of wind, venerated by boatmen, her "amnesia soup granny" incarnation came from the Jade Records.

[notjustjavierpena]

Routine

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Hi everyone! I told you that I had a hubby-treat for you, and it is finally here. I’m very excited to share this one with you as it is something that I’ve gotten a ton of requests for. You love the simplicity of domestic life, so here’s the life of Los Peñas after you’ve begged to see what their routine looks like.  Like always: A huge thanks to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for being a patient, sweet and talented beta-reader.

Summary: A day in the life of Javier Peña and his growing family. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18, MDNI, hubby!javi’s POV and introspection, pregnant reader, pregnancy symptoms, family dynamics, domestic routines, tooth-rotting domestic bliss, siblings being siblings, married banter, heart-to-hearts, references to Reassess, family conflicts, casanova!javi turned oblivious!javi, javier with a baby needs a warning, handsy and  inappropriate!javi, mention of javier’s mother, baby scan talk, hubby being a DAD!, couch cuddles (with and without kids), sex toys (not explicitly a rose but something along the lines, and while I know we are in the 00s, let’s pretend that sucking toys and cordless toys were a thing for the sake of the story), f masturbation, pregnancy sex, consent king javi, teasing, light dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, light verbal humiliation, nipple play, nipple orgasm, overstim, intense sex, multiple orgasms, m masturbation, wife is an insatiable brat and a screamer, slight dacryphilia, piv sex, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, slight subdrop, lots of praises and aftercare, baths and hair washing,  

Word count: 17.2k (sorry)

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56355349

Routine

Javier’s alarm goes off at 6:30 AM each morning. He breathes deeply in through his nose as he is woken by the beeping sounds of his alarm clock, pulls his arm out from under the covers where it is wrapped around your waist, and moves it to the button on top of the device. He fumbles to find it for a moment, ending up smacking his hand into the plastic with a grunt. 

You stir beside him when he falls back down on his back. He rubs his eyes until he sees fireworks behind his lids, moving the hand down to smooth his thumb and forefinger along his mustache. 

“It’s 6:30,” he then tells you, reaching for your shoulder to shake you gently until you whine a no and cover your face with your arms. He smiles as your half-asleep state makes you no better than his only daughter, “Come on, mi amor (my love). Another day.”

“Thank God, it’s Friday,” you mumble, “One more wake-up routine and I might leave to start a new life as an actually interesting person, maybe a psychic woman.”

“Telling fortunes?” He muses with a goofy smile even if you cannot see him. He reaches to pull your arms away, “C’mon now.”

“Yes, maybe,” you give in and sit up, resting your folded hands on top of your pregnant belly, “The spirits are telling me that you are waking up the queen of this household. I’ll take Seb later.”

You are still on leave after giving birth to Sebastian but after Javier has started his new job, the both of you have discussed the idea of you being a stay-at-home mother for some time after the twins have been born too. You do most of your work on your computer anyway, and if you quit your job, there’ll be plenty of opportunities to do some freelance stuff for extra income. Javier isn’t over the moon about you playing the part of the cherry-pie-making housewife but you reason that you only get to experience the kids as kids once which he can’t argue with (especially not when he chose a different job for the exact same reason).

“You sure have a gift, all-seeing wife,” Javier nods in agreement and kisses your lips even as you say you have a terrible case of morning breath. Then, resting on his hands, he bends down to kiss your stomach too, “Anything else Mamá wants?”

“Can you make breakfast?” You blink prettily, “I’ll do school lunches and coffee.”

“Sure,” he leans over you and smirks when your noses bump together, “How do you want your eggs? Except fertilized, obviously.”

“Javi,” you scold but giggle and initiate a kiss anyway. He kisses you longingly because he hasn’t for eight long hours of sleep. When he pulls back, heat has risen to your cheek, “Just scrambled.”

“You got it,” he moves and gets out of the bed. It is 6:36 AM now and he calculates the time he’ll have to wake up Inés as well as make breakfast if he needs to get in the shower before leaving too. He doesn’t have to stress.

“And Javi?” You call from the bed. 

He turns around in the doorway to the master bathroom, “Yes?”

“Good morning,” you beam. 

“Good morning, baby,” he smiles.

He takes a quick moment to wash his face, leaving the door open so you can run back and forth to pee the million times that you need to each morning. He doesn’t say anything, just listens to you moving around as you brush your hair and put on soft sweatpants. He tries to imagine what you’ll be wearing when he sees you later because you always shower after sending him and the children out of the door. He hopes that you will wear your blue sundress now that it's warmer than ever. 

When he emerges from the bathroom to plan what he is going to wear for the day, you are already gone and he can hear the radio playing music in the kitchen. He revises his material for today’s lecture about criminal behavior as he takes a white shirt off its hanger and reaches for a pair of dress pants, but he can barely concentrate when he cannot wait to see you downstairs.

Finishing up his little routine, he walks out of the bedroom and down the hallway upstairs. He knocks once on Lucas’ door before peeking into the room, “Let’s go, muchacho (young man).”

Lucas passes him a moment later, fully dressed and with his school bag over his shoulder. He looks so grown that Javier wants to topple over, “Morning, mijo (my son).” 

“Don’t worry, Dad. I’m up,” he smiles. 

Javier raises a brow, “I can see that. Thanks for making my life easier. I’ll go wake up la monita (the little monkey) then.” 

He continues to Inés’ room. She has not woken up yet, deep asleep with the covers half on the floor. She is lying on her stomach with her arms above her head, her mouth agape as she snores gently, her hair an unruly mess, and her pajama top askew on her back. 

He crouches down by her bed and runs a hand over her back, speaking softly as he wakes her up with the intention of not accidentally startling her, “Inés, mi niña (my girl), it’s time to wake up.”

It takes a whole minute for her to escape the land of the sleeping and release the clutch on her pillow. She furrows her brow, yawns animatedly, and rubs her eyes with her tiny fists in the same way he does every day. 

“There she is,” he smiles, “It’s almost seven, we gotta get up for school.” 

“I don’t wanna,” she complains with a pout and earns a gentle hand running over her hair. She buries her face further into the pillow and looks like she’s already about to turn to her weapon consisting of crocodile tears. 

“I don’t want to either but Mom is already packing your lunch. Don’t you want to see Ava and Jacob?” He helps her sit up, trying to distract her from her tantrum. 

“Ava says her mom is sad,” Inés shakes her head but the accidental opportunity to talk about her troubles makes Javier able to undress her without much fuss. He gives her a sympathetic look. Mira, Ava’s mother, is still divorcing her husband Jonathan, and it is the first time that Inés has been confronted with the idea that not all parents stay together. He nods in understanding, “But Ava says that her mom is the one who didn’t want to be with her daddy anymore.”

“Sometimes you can be sad even if it’s a choice you make yourself,” Javier explains as he gets her out of bed, kneeling in front of her on the floor to help her into her underwear and bottoms. He pulls them up over her hips, “Maybe she thought it was nicer to leave so she could not make him sad again.” 

Inés listens to his explanation but just as she is about to nod, she frowns and shakes her head instead, “That’s stupid. Mommy says that you stay and talk about things when you are sad.” 

Javier pauses with the blouse you chose for her yesterday in his hands, trying to find the correct way to explain why adults act the way they do to his daughter. It’s so early in the morning and she had barely been awake two minutes ago. He takes a deep breath before speaking, "Well sometimes grown-ups have disagreements or feelings that are hard to understand, and when those feelings become too strong, they might decide that it's best to be apart instead of being sad together."

Inés furrows her brow even more but raises her arms up in the air to let him pull the blouse over her head, “Is Ava sad too?" 

Javier pulls her arms out of the sleeves and brushes her hair out of her concerned and skeptical face, "Ava might be feeling sad right now too but she has her friends, you for example, and her family to cheer her up, just like you have me and Mamá.”

Inés falls into him and hugs him, giggling as he picks her up and purposely turns her the wrong way around in his arms until she tells him off with a squeal. She throws her arms around his neck when she finally sits on his hip and kisses his cheek, "I'm glad I have you, Papá. I love you!" 

Javier vows that he won’t cry from emotion so early in the morning. He is worse than you sometimes when it comes to these things, chest constricting as tears well up in his throat, “I wouldn’t know what to do without you, mi amor (my love). Let’s go get breakfast before we do your hair. How do you want it?”

“Pigtails,” she decides loudly as they leave the room. 

Downstairs, Lucas has chosen cereal for himself and is reading the comic he got last month at the dining table. Inés says hello to him from her seat on Javier’s hip, and he waves back at her until she giggles and hides her face against her father’s shoulder. 

Javier carries her to you as you cut carrot and cucumber slices for her lunchbox. You turn to them. 

“Morning, Mamá!” She chirps happily and you give her a kiss. 

“Hi, baby,” you reply and notice the faint traces of tears in the corner of Javier’s eyes. You raise your brows, “Did you give your dad any trouble?” 

“We had a little chat about Mira and Jonathan,” he explains quickly and stuffs a carrot in Inés’ mouth before walking to plop her down on a dining chair. Inés chews and immediately gets enchanted by her older brother, looking at the pictures of Spiderman on the pages in front of them while asking him to explain. 

“Are you okay?” You put a hand on his arm, rubbing affectionately all the way up to the back of his neck. He reaches to put his hand on top of yours and smiles reassuringly.

“Just got a love declaration of the ages,” he explains before letting go. He moves to open the fridge and calculates the amount of eggs he’ll need. 

“Ahh, sentiment,” you say with a knowing smile. Without a word, you get a pan out for him and place it on the stove, working with him in a symbiotic manner that he grows more and more fond of with each passing morning you spend together as a family. 

He cracks the eggs out into a bowl to make sure there are no shells and then starts scrambling them whilst you click the button on the coffee machine. Soon, the delicious smell of fresh coffee and breakfast fills up the room and you open a window to let the sound of chirping birds join the music on the radio. 

“Eat up, we’re leaving in 45 minutes,” he places the plate in front of Inés and kisses her hair. She takes the fork you bring a second after and stabs the eggs with determination. 

She chatters excitedly about the plans for her day between bites of eggs and looks outraged when Lucas occasionally steals a piece from her plate. He makes a peace offering by moving his chair closer to hers so he can hold the comic in front of them both. 

Javier goes to pour coffee into his favorite mug whilst you have tea and you eat the rest of the scrambled eggs directly from the pan together with him. He admires you whilst you rest against the kitchen table, having a conversation with your kids whilst nourishing your twin babies. 

As the comfortable morning routine proceeds, he catches your eyes from across the room and you smile so tenderly each time. Rays of sunlight are coming in from the window, dancing over the fabric of your comfortable clothes and making your already glowing skin glow even brighter as you hold the mug of tea in both hands. He knows how lucky he is to have this life with you after the chaotic years of his youth. Who knew that life could start when one thought it was over?

He recalls the very first time he laid eyes on you and how he knew he wanted to marry you by the end of the night (you still don’t believe this). He remembers thinking that he didn’t deserve a life with you and all the love you brought with you, remembers how you said that the only thing that mattered was whether he wanted it or not. He has never once wavered from this want since you allowed him to kiss you for the first time. 

Lost in thought, he almost doesn’t realize that you have started to move around the kitchen to clear the table and stuff the lunchboxes into each respective school bag. He takes a brief moment more to longingly gaze after you. 

You are so graceful in your fourth pregnancy even if you deny it each time he compliments you, your stomach a bump so round and plenty visible already. The both of you are nearly four months into what has been the biggest shock of your lives. All the time, he thinks back to how difficult it was to conceive the first two of his kids and feels a tug in his chest of endless gratitude for being a father. 

He could never describe the flood of pride that had erupted in his heart when he went from being a father of three to suddenly being a father of almost five in a matter of a single second you spent together in an ob-gyn's office on a regular Tuesday morning. He remembers seeing your overwhelmed and tear-stained face when you had thrown yourself back into the examination chair with simultaneous happiness and panic flashing in your eyes. The babble of words was barely comprehensible but they made him kiss your eyelids until you gave him a smile. 

He had called you his very best girl when the doctor had left to give you both a moment of privacy, held your trembling hand, and told you that he would be right there with you every step of the way, which seemed to calm you instantly. He is grateful that he has that effect on you just as you have the very same effect on him. He knows he can never feel what it’s like to bear children but he knows that every fiber of his body tells him that he will never allow you to be scared if he can help it.

These days, he won’t even allow you to be exhausted either which is why he picks up Inés from her seat again and carries her upstairs to the bathroom. When pregnant, you always pack the car with Lucas instead of walking around with your preschooler on your hip. 

“Right,” he hooks a foot around the leg of the stool underneath the sink and drags it out so Inés can stand on it. She grabs the edge of the sink and makes a face in the mirror now that she’s tall enough to admire herself, “Pigtails, wasn’t it?”

Inés nods eagerly when Javier gets out the box of hair ties from underneath the cabinet next to the sink, “I want the Minnie Mouse bows.”

“Excellent choice,” Javier praises as he reaches for her hairbrush too. He combs her hair, starting at the bottom and gradually going upwards just like you have taught him the second that he became a father to a little girl. You had even made a hair boot camp, sitting on the couch and nursing Inés whilst he practiced a few different hairstyles that you would rate on a scale of one to ten. 

He parts Inés’ hair down the middle and starts with the right pigtail, gathering all the hair in his hand with the help of the brush. His daughter grimaces at the slight tug but then her face lights up as she remembers something.

“Daddy! Mommy says I have to do my daily affirmations before school!” She beams at him in the mirror, excited because complimenting herself clearly makes her feel good. Javier cannot believe how fantastic of a mother you are because it would have never even occurred to him that this was the simplest way of teaching his children to be kind to themselves. 

“Alright, let’s hear them, mija (my daughter),” he says and finishes the second pigtail. He takes a step back, holding his daughter’s head in place like you have taught him to make sure the hairstyle is symmetrical. Satisfied, he looks at the digital clock on top of the cabinet. He figures they can spare the two minutes it takes. 

Inés looks herself in the eye when he has let go of her again. She straightens her back like she has seen cartoon characters do, admiring her reflection, and starts reciting with a big smile on her little face. 

“I am smart.”

Yes, she is. Sometimes too smart for her own good. Javier smiles. There’s a pause. 

“I am brave.”

The bravest.

“I have good ideas—“ she halts, turning around to look at him with a frown as if it wouldn’t have the same effect if she had simply sent him the look through the bathroom mirror, “Daddy, you have to say it too.”

She watches him expectantly and he cannot bear to let her down even if he feels slightly embarrassed to talk so highly about himself out loud. He takes a deep breath, a weird feeling in his chest as he meets his own gaze, “I am smart. I am brave. I have good ideas.”

“Good, Daddy!” Inés radiates joy and sports a big toothy grin. She says another one, “I can say no.”

Javier doesn’t catch on to the fact that he has to keep going. Inés turns around to him again with her hands in her sides, “Now you say it, Daddy!”

“Inés…” He chuckles and feels slightly apprehensive. Vulnerability isn’t something he is insecure about but the act of openly saying such nice sentiments to himself hits a nerve somewhere in his chest, imitating a feeling of performance anxiety that he only recognizes from the times he has gone to an exam. 

“Mommy says it makes us feel good inside,” Inés doesn’t let it go, dragging out the minute that he has put aside for this. He knows there’s no way around this and he knows that you would tell him to lead by example. He pretends to cough in an attempt to hide his hesitation, knowing that his confidence and self-love will only fuel his children’s. What more could he want as a father?

“I can say no,” he tells his reflection.

“I can do hard things,” Inés continues. Javier repeats it.

“I am a good friend,” she proudly voices and he hugs her from behind to parrot each word, tightening his arms around her more and more until eventually, he tickles her when she has said her last sentence, “I am loved. There’s no one I would rather be than myself.”

She squeals with delight and slight panic, laughing in his arms in the loud and free manner that only a child can. He gets filled up with warmth and baby fever, trying his hardest to compose himself since they have to leave soon even if he just wants to keep going. 

“Time to brush your teeth and pee before we leave, monita (little monkey),” he tells her and she follows through without any protest. 

When he has told her to help you finish packing her bag, he gets his clothes from the bedroom and gets in for a quick shower. He washes his hair and body, scrubbing his beard with his fingers while revising his material one last time. 

At last, he stands in front of the mirror, putting on his watch, buckling his belt, and fixing the collar of his crisp white shirt. He finishes with his cologne, shaking his sleeve upward on his arm after brushing his teeth to check the time. 7:37 AM.

“Do you have everything?” You ask when everyone is back in the kitchen again.

“I hate leaving you alone all day,” Javier mumbles as you hand over his bag along with Inés’ school bag. Despite Javier’s hands being full, you still place your palms on his chest and kiss him on the mouth.

“Then stop getting me pregnant,” you whisper against his mouth. 

“But it’s just so fun,” he notes and kisses you a few times more when you try to pull away, “They should stop making it so fun. You should stop making me feel so good.”

“Dad,” Lucas interrupts you with a grimace, “We’re gonna be late.”

“Alright, out the door, all of you,” you scratch Javier’s chest briefly before walking out of the room to the front door. You hold it open and watch the three of them scuttling out of the house. Javier wants to count the hours before he gets to see you again.

“And remember, Daddy’s picking you up after school today!” You yell from the door and he turns to walk backwards to the car with a grin on his face. He hears Inés cheer at this fact and secretly, he wants to cheer himself because he never gets to do it. You have an appointment with your ob-gyn doctor later to check if everything is alright with the babies, something they have insisted on since they found out there were two. He’ll have to leave work early but it’ll give him more time with his children in the afternoon. 

He checks each of their seat belts to make sure they’re secure, hesitating for just a second as he gets ready to close the car door, “Hands inside the car, c’mon.”

Inés throws her palms up and he pushes the car door shut with a smile before walking around the front, tapping the hood with his knuckles and waving at you one last time. You smile widely and mouth that you love him. You close the door, and he only starts the car when he sees you in the kitchen window. 

—

The car ride to school is fairly short but it consists of Javier listening to a lot of happy chatter about nothing from Inés in the way only a four-year-old can do. In the ten minutes it takes, he manages to answer questions about why the sky is blue, why there’s no such thing as dragons in Texas, if there are twin ladybugs just like there are twins in your tummy, and if she can try driving the car later. 

Lucas only joins in when she asks whether they can get a dog. He grabs at the back of his father’s seat and lifts himself as far forward as the seat belt will allow only to get told to sit back down. 

“A dog is a big responsibility, you know,” Javier swings the car into a parking spot. He looks back over the seat after turning off the engine, “Mommy and I have you and Seb to take care of, and the twins eventually too.”

“Nunca vamos a tener un perro (we’re never gonna get a dog),” Lucas grumbles and throws himself back into the seat. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks out the window. 

“Never?” Inés’ eyes widen.

“Oye, eso no es lo que dije (hey, that’s not what I said),” Javier replies, pocketing the car keys, “I’m just saying that we’ll have our hands full soon.”

“That’s not my fault and I didn’t even want more siblings,” Lucas says under his breath and Inés squirms in her seat at the tension in the tiny space. 

“Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t want you saying things like that,” Javier says firmly. 

Lucas huffs. For once, Inés is quiet. 

“Look at me,” Javier tells him and his son reluctantly finds his gaze again, “We don’t talk about each other like that and we especially don’t make each other feel unwanted.”

There’s a painful mixture of shame, vulnerability, and frustration on the eight-year-old’s face, “I know, Dad, I’m sorry… it’s just that sometimes it feels like I’m the one who has to always give up what I want.”

Javier knows the irony of his previous statement as soon as he hears those words. Accompanied by the look he receives from his son, it’s enough to make him swallow thickly, “I’m sorry, mijo (my son). I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

There’s a pause. Lucas starts to open the door, “It’s okay. I know that you’re right and a dog won’t be happy if we don’t have time for it. That’s what Mom says anyway.”

He gets out and Inés finally pipes up when they’re alone. She frowns and looks out the window to watch Lucas stand with his hands clutching the straps of his bag, “Can’t we just have a little dog?”

���I have to talk to Mom about it,” he sighs, “Let’s get through this day first.”

The two of them finally get out of the car to join Lucas. Javier locks the car. He starts to lean down over his son, wants to press an affectionate kiss to his hair that’s so much like his own it hurts, but Lucas shakes him off. 

“Dad,” the eight-year-old bites at him, his tone full of embarrassment. He suppresses a scowl even if it’s only a half-hearted one and instead looks around to see if anyone saw him. 

Javier straightens again, trying to pretend the slight rejection didn’t sting too much. Lucas is turning nine soon but he hadn’t guessed that he’d be so much of a preteen already. He has no clue if he is doing okay with him but he vows to get a smile out of him before they part for the day. 

“I’ll talk to Mom about it,” Javier eventually promises. It’s not untrue.

“Whatever, it’s fine,” Lucas replies with a fake smile and looks away. 

“Lucas, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you,” he drops Inés’ bag and thinks fuck it. He crouches down to hold both his arms, rubbing them soothingly, and feels relief at not being rejected again, “I know you really want a dog but you gotta cut your Mom and me some slack here, okay? We’ve never had three kiddos at the same time. Just like you’ve never had two siblings before.”

“Four,” his son mutters. 

“It’ll be okay,” he tells him with a smile. He is steadfast as he continues, “And I mean it, I will talk to Mom but her verdict is final. She’s the pregnant one.”

“Okay,” Lucas says with uncertainty.

“Okaaay,” he parrots to him in a silly voice with a gentle squeeze. 

“Okay,” Lucas says with a little laugh. 

“Okay,” Inés chimes in with excitement. 

Lucas laughs genuinely this time and Javier feels his heart leap. He picks up the bag from the ground and stands once more, only to bend down and kiss his son’s hair, “School waits. Inés and I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Dad, bye, Inés,” he nods, “I love you.”

“I love you too!!!” Inés yells loudly and Javier takes her hand with the one not carrying her bag. 

“Love you, mijo (my son).”

—

The next stop is Inés’ classroom. She runs a few meters in front of him the whole way there but because of her little legs, he never gets too far behind her. He feels so relieved that she’s always this excited for school but with the way that you tell him that she’s so much like him, he also knows that it’s just a matter of time before she grows tired of school during her teen years. Teen years. He shouldn’t think about that already since the thought of her growing is unbearable. 

“Inés, slow down,” he says despite not needing to, wanting a bit of control, “I don’t want you falling and scraping your knees, mi amor (my love).”

When she doesn’t immediately follow orders, he holds out his hand for her to take, “Inés.”

She turns her head toward him as she runs down the hall, so close to her goal which is her classroom, and tumbles into a woman coming out of the room. Javier puts a hand on his head in shock, dropping his daughter’s bag and walking straight to them whilst apologizing profusely. 

“It’s alright,” the woman says with a sweet smile in his direction and then in Inés’ direction. She’s tall and blonde, wearing a coat in this boiling weather which must mean she’s not used to Texas, “We’re both alright, aren’t we?”

“Sorry,” Inés says genuinely. 

“Well, aren’t you well-behaved?” She is grinning now. 

“Daddy, can I go inside and play with Ava?” Inés looks longingly towards the door. 

He goes to pick up her bag, “Sí (yes), but take your backpack and I’ll talk to the nice lady.”

Inés does as she is told, standing perfectly still whilst he helps the bag onto her shoulders. He kisses the top of her head, “Ves a jugar (Go and play). I’ll pick you up later today.”

“They’re great at that age,” the woman says with a dreamy smile after Inés bounds into the classroom, “I dropped mine off a moment ago.”

“They in the same class?” He asks. 

“As of last week. Oh, and it’s Emily, actually, not ‘nice lady’,” the stranger reveals, holding out her hand for a shake, “And you’re Javier, right?”

“That’s right,” he shakes her hand. Great, even she knows who he is and he prepares himself for the usual speech about him being known all over Laredo, doing everything in his power to not make his mouth a straight line. 

However, she nods towards the door and surprises him by saying nothing of the sort. Instead, she makes it about herself which shouldn’t be nice but it is, “Inés’ father? My daughter has mentioned her a few times. We’re new here, moved from Upstate New York. Work. You know.”

“That explains the coat,” he says with a little smirk. 

She reacts by putting her hand on her cheek and then her forehead, feeling a blush that’s not there. He is too oblivious to know that she’s fishing for a compliment on her appearance, “That obvious, huh? I probably look like a red crab. I’m boiling.”

“You look fine,” he reassures, “But hit up the AC in your car or at least take that thing off. Survival mode, you know, do it for the kids.”

Emily giggles. He smiles. 

“We should arrange a playdate sometime. My daughter could use some friends. I think we both could. We could get some coffee if you know a place,” she suggests in an attempt at a flirtation but even if it’s so glaringly obvious, he just doesn’t pick up on it. 

Instead, his mind circles back to you in the kitchen he built for you, “I’m busy most days but I’m sure my wife would be thrilled to set something up. Inés can’t just be playing with our friends’ daughter all the time.”

“Oh,” there’s a slight change in Emily’s demeanor after that. Her smile falters ever so slightly, and there's a fleeting look of disappointment in her eyes but he can't quite pinpoint the cause of her sudden change in mood. He brushes it off, "Well, I should probably let you get back to your day. I suppose your name and number are on the class’ contact list?” 

He tries to keep up the upbeat tone of their conversation but she just smiles awkwardly, "Yes. Of course, Javier. I'll look forward to it."

As he turns to leave, he catches a glimpse of Emily's expression, and he can't shake the feeling that something is amiss. He furrows his brow, wondering all the way to the car what he did wrong and doesn’t know that if you had been there, you would have been laughing your ass off the second Emily had left.

He brushes it off the second the radio comes on in the car and heads to work afterward. The day feels easy; he gets to come home, gets to watch his kids grow up in front of his eyes and in the evening he will make love to his beautiful wife. Such a fact makes days at work pass like seconds, and he smiles all the way from his car when the bell rings for his first lesson.

—

Around two in the afternoon on the same day, Javier enters his house with his kids following right behind him. He comes home to you feeding Sebastian mashed avocado in his high chair, and in the meantime cutely imitating his babbling about nothing right back at the little green monster that used to be his son. He walks up to you after putting his bag down on a dining chair. 

“Hey,” you say with avocado on your forehead. 

Javier reaches up to rub it off, sucking it off his finger before pecking your lips, “Hola, mi amor (hello, my love). How’s your day been? Scan go okay?”

He kisses Sebastian’s head too before turning his attention to you. You’re scraping the last bits of avocado onto the baby spoon before feeding it to your son.

“I’ll tell you about the scan later. I need to talk to you about it… but Seb and I have had such a good day, ain’t that right, baby?” You tickle Sebastian’s cheeks, not caring about being covered in green too. Sebastian giggles and clenches his fist around some of the avocado he has had in his hand for a while. Javier decides not to press any further since you don’t look worried, especially not as you watch Sebastian slam his fist into the plate in front of him afterward, “We tried sweet potatoes today, didn’t we? Y probamos fresas del mercado, pasta con un poco de queso (And we tried strawberries from the market, pasta with a bit of cheese)."

Javier grins at your excitement, watching you reach for a piece of paper towel to wipe off all the excess food from your child now that he has been allowed to eat more independently with just a bit of help, "Mi hijo es un foodie, ¿eh? (my son is a foodie, huh?)"

Lucas pops his head in through the kitchen door with Inés loyally following right behind, “Mom, did you say strawberries?”

You walk to the kitchen table and grab the cardboard basket of strawberries, holding it out for your eldest son. You shake it a little, “They’re really good.”

He takes one and hands it to Inés before he grabs one for himself afterward. He smiles contentedly after biting into it, happily chewing the sweet berry and looking down at his sister to see her reaction as well, “Good?”

You offer Javier a strawberry too. He eats a whole one, doesn’t even bother to pick off the green part, and earns a little crinkle of your nose. He winks at your reaction and the expression of disapproval turns into a smile that sets his heart into overdrive. 

Inés lights up after finishing the berry, “Can I have one more?”

“Consider it your afternoon snack,” you say. You pull out a chair around the dining table, placing the basket of strawberries on the table, “Do you want a PB&J sandwich too?” 

“Yes!” She runs across the room to crawl onto the seat, waiting patiently with her hands flat on the table until she cannot resist nearly smothering herself with another strawberry. 

“Do you want one too, Luke?” You ask. 

“Yes, please. Thank you, Mom,” he says politely and goes to sit down too. He taps a rhythm on the table that Inés fails at replicating. From his high chair, Sebastian joins in by slamming his palms into the table and the luckily empty baby platter. 

“Javi, can you take Seb for his nap?” You ask while reaching for the jar of peanut butter in the cupboard. You cannot find it, frowning at the realization that you must have placed it somewhere else. Javier hears you mutter to yourself about your damn pregnancy brain. 

He walks up behind you, a hand on the small of your back as he leans over you. You freeze but then relax into his touch. He reaches into the far back of the cupboard, feeling for the jar, and fetches it, “You told me to hide it, baby. You eat too much of it with just the lid off and a spoon.”

“I should stop denying the babies it if that’s what they want,” you giggle to hide your embarrassment at having forgotten and pat your pregnant belly. You look so pretty in your dress, the one he had hoped that you would wear; blue as the sky above with tiny yellow bees flying around on it. 

He hands you the jar of peanut butter and cannot help but admire the gentle curve of your stomach, that certain glow making you radiant in the mundane setting of his kitchen. He can never help ogling you when you care for his children and it’s even worse when you carry them as well. 

“You look so gorgeous right now, mi vida (my life),” he rubs the small of your back and slides his palm around you to your belly, breathing against your ear as he talks. You turn your head just a little to smile playfully at him and thank him in a soft whisper. 

Javier looks back to see his kids chatting with each other, so he presses into you a little more.

“I got a bed with your name on it later,” he continues quietly as he still stands right behind you, letting his hand drop to your hip. You shove a little at him but it’s nowhere near enough to actually mean that you want him to stop. He lets his warm breath ghost over the soft shell of your ear until you let out a sigh that you only reserve for him. He continues until he can look at your neck and see your pulse throbbing under your skin, “I could just eat you up. Take you to our bedroom, lock the door… throw you on the bed, and take your clothes off with my teeth.”

“Pórtate bien (Behave),” you scold him with a bit more mischief than what he assumes is intended, “I have sandwiches to make and we’ll be sorry later if Seb misses his nap.”

He adds a finishing touch to his attempt at a flirtation by shielding you from his kids’ line of sight. The broad hand that has been resting on your hip slips further down. and Javier allows himself a grope to your backside. He jiggles the fleshiest part of it and you finally have enough, turning around quickly with a look of mock outrage. 

“Thin ice, baby, thin ice,” you chide but he simply pecks you on the lips and turns towards his children again. 

“Vamos, pequeño (let’s go, little one),” he says to Sebastian as he approaches him, lifting him out of his high chair and placing him on his hip. He feels your disapproving eyes as he walks out of the kitchen but just smirks to himself, heading for the stairs to go to the nursery.

In the room, he places Sebastian on the changing table and checks his diaper. He also removes as much clothing as possible, making sure he won’t overheat in the bassinet. His son grins up at him, not seeming tired at first but then starts blinking slowly as the nap ritual proceeds. 

“Oh, you are tired, mijo (my son),” he whispers softly as he cradles him towards his chest afterward. He feels Sebastian resting his chubby cheek against his shoulder, breathing slowly as he starts falling asleep from being bounced in his father’s arms.

Javier hums, savoring the moment that he knows is fleeting with his son. He is reminded of needing to ask you about the doctor’s appointment again, excitement in his body as he thinks about two sets of tiny feet running across his living room floor at the same time. As a child, he never really understood why he couldn’t get a sibling but his understanding of what was happening to his mother only came a little later until he stopped asking altogether. He loves that his house is so full now. 

When Sebastian is fully asleep, he lays him down on his back on the tiny mattress that belonged to Inés before. He runs his palm over the fine hairs on his head for a few moments, just staring down at his baby to commit it to memory. He tucks the blanket around him, turns on the baby monitor, grabs the other, and flicks off the lights. 

When he returns to the kitchen ten minutes later, he finds you sitting by the dining table with a sandwich of your own. Lucas holds a pencil in his hand, your grocery list lying in front of him and his empty plate has been pushed away. 

“I hate broccoli,” Inés says from her own seat, nose scrunched up. The jelly part of her sandwich seems more around her mouth than in her belly. She tries to look over at what her older brother is writing but he is hesitant in his spelling of the word. 

“I hate it because I can’t spell it,” Lucas grumbles with concentration on his face, “B-R-O…”

“C-C-O-L-I,” Javier finishes, announcing his presence to them. You look up at him as he stops between Lucas’ and your chair, setting down the baby monitor on the table. 

“Hey, he’s supposed to learn how to spell it by himself,” you tut gently but without any anger or annoyance. Javier kisses your jelly-tasting lips. You tap the list, “Lettuce.”

Lucas groans in complaint, “Mooom, all these words are hard.”

Inés giggles from her seat, “Lucas is bad at spelling!”

Lucas furrows his brow, looking to you for saving, “No, I’m not!”

You send your daughter a look, knowing you have the right thing to say to bring some justice into the world, “I don’t know why you’re laughing, Inés Peña. You have to practice your counting skills with Daddy.”

Javier snorts at the look of disgust on his daughter’s face. She comically throws herself back into her chair, arms crossed over her chest. He kisses her hair, “No angry faces, Princesa (princess). You’ll have plenty of time to play afterward.”

“Maybe I am bad at spelling,” Lucas says in defeat, heaving a big sigh. 

“You’re doing great, sweetie. It’s all about practice,” you reassure and reach out to rub the back of his neck affectionately, “And I really appreciate you helping me with the grocery list. It’s a big job.”

“How about an easier word?” Javier suggests, silently eyeing your sandwich as he speaks, “Like tomatoes.”

Lucas smiles down at the paper, brightening at the praise you offer as consolation for his struggles. He writes down the newly suggested word with newfound confidence, “T-O-M-A-T-O-E-S.”

“Perfect,” you continue your praise. 

Finally, Javier pulls out a chair to sit down with his family. He chooses the seat next to you but opposite Inés to keep her in line if she decides to have a tantrum. However, she just watches her brother scribble down word after word. 

“What about ice cream?” She asks suddenly with her best pleading expression. She is more hesitant than usual, knowing full well that she overstepped the rules a moment ago. 

“If Lucas can spell it,” you challenge with a sweet smile, raising a brow at your son. 

Inés grabs at the edge of the dining table, moving to stand on her knees instead of sitting. She leans over the table to get a closer look, “You can do it, Lucas!”

“Challenge accepted,” he says with a grin, nearly breaking the tip of the pencil in his eagerness, especially now that his sister is cheering for him, “I-C-E-C-R-E-A-M.”

Both of them look to you expectantly, awaiting your verdict that’ll make or break the oncoming weekend. You nod, “That’s indeed how you spell ice cream.”

The both of them cheer. You laugh along with them, and Javier feels his knees go weak even as he sits down. He leans back in his seat with his shoulders completely relaxed, briefly recalling a time when his body being this calm was only a possibility when alcohol was in his bloodstream. 

“What’s next on the list, muchacho (young man)?” He asks as the laughter dies down once again, casually reaching out for half of your sandwich. He earns a look of mock outrage from you, your hand reaching out to swat his arm. 

“Get your own, Peña,” you scold playfully. He pulls away quickly and bites down into the corner. You roll your eyes, “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“And you love it,” he says around a mouthful of food. 

“Mom, what’s ‘insatiable’ mean?” Inés asks curiously. 

You look at him with a smirk as you reply, “It means Daddy always wants more.” 

“More what? More food?” Inés furrows her brow in confusion. 

“Something like that,” Javier says with his heart beating loudly in his chest at the mere thought of you. He leans closer to you, lowering his voice just enough, “And more of Mommy, too.”

“And I think that’s it for snack time!” You announce quickly after, heat in your cheeks as you push yourself to stand. Javier is pleased with himself as you walk around in a flustered state, “Lucas, do you have any homework?”

“I finished math homework in school,” he announces proudly, “Is the grocery list finished?” 

“Can you add chicken too? Then I think we’re done,” you walk back to the table to gather the plates, not letting Javier put down his sandwich again. He feels triumphant at having caused you to feel like this, a sucker for watching your warm face. 

“C-H-I-K—“ Lucas spells out loud. 

“C-K,” you correct as you put the dirty plates into the dishwasher. 

“Oh,” he turns the pencil around and erases his mistake, “C-H-I-C-K-E-N.”

“There you go, baby, good job,” you praise.

Lucas beams.

—

The rest of the afternoon passes quickly. Lucas goes to his room to play on his Game Boy, its faint beeps echoing through the house from the open door, Inés, after getting her face thoroughly wiped down, falls asleep on the couch after refusing an afternoon nap, and you and Javier begin the usual ritual of preparing for dinner while Sebastian sleeps undisturbed in his bed. 

“You wanted to talk to me about the scan today?” Javier starts a conversation as he chops vegetables alongside you, your hip occasionally bumping into his as you mix a dressing. 

“Yeah, and before you start to worry; yes, the babies are fine,” you reply and absentmindedly run your palm across your belly. 

“But?” Javier puts the knife down to look at you. 

“But nothing. I just wanted to tell you that they know what we’re having and they want us to discuss if we wanna know,” you smile excitedly. You mirror him by putting down the spoon and stepping closer to let him embrace you. 

“They can tell already?” He asks as he places his hands on your hips, rubbing up and down soothingly. He pecks your lips, heart feeling too big for his chest. 

You nod and lean into another kiss, “And they said everything looks great too. Nothing to worry about, and the due date is so far down the road that we can’t wonder about the delivery yet.” 

“Alright, yes. Okay,” he nods in return, an overwhelmed smile on his lips. He releases a small sigh, “But do we want to know? We’ve tried both but I think it’s up to you.” 

“I mean,” you think out loud while Javier takes the opportunity to rub your stomach, “I like surprises but with the stress the delivery will probably bring, it might be nice to know. Just to appreciate it more than when I’m a mess. I don’t know.”

“Well, I guess we don’t have to decide now. We have five or so months, have a think,” he reassures you and presses a soft kiss to your neck. He can feel and hear you draw in a deep breath. 

You are interrupted by Sebastian’s soft noises through the baby monitor, tiny sounds of complaint indicating that he is just about to cry. Javier releases you from his grasp, “You get him and I’ll finish up here. Dinner in twenty, don’t you think?”

“Sure, baby,” you say with a final peck to his lips. You leave the kitchen, ascending the stairs with a little noise, and when Javier glances out into the entry hall, he sees you walk upstairs with a hand on the small of your back. Sebastian has started to cry but you reassure him all the way through the house, “I’m coming, mijo (my son).”

Javier finishes up dinner. He faintly hears you tell Lucas to go set the table, and when your son starts taking plates out of the drawer, Inés enters the kitchen while rubbing her eyes, awakened by the noise. 

“Hola, mi niña cansada (hello, my tired girl),” Javier says as she leans into his side. He turns the pan on the hob so that the handle doesn’t stick out from over the edge, then runs his hand over his daughter’s hair. 

“No estoy cansada, papá (I’m not tired, Daddy),” she protests while fighting a yawn. 

“¿Entonces tienes hambre (Are you hungry then)?” He asks with a hidden, amused smile. 

“Sí (yes),” she wraps her arms around his waist. 

"Si tienes hambre, ayuda a tu hermano a poner la mesa (If you’re hungry, help your brother with setting the table),” he runs his hand over her back, caressing her gently while stirring the chicken and vegetables. 

“Okay, papá,” she says, her stomach probably growling since she’s not protesting hard labor. 

Lucas has finished carrying plates, glasses, and cutlery to the dining table. He pulls out a chair for Inés to stand on, directing her thoroughly on where everything goes until you enter the kitchen again with Sebastian on your hip. 

“It looks so good!” You praise with a big grin, genuinely proud to see both of your eldest kids cooperating so well, “And the cutlery on the right sides!” 

Javier turns back to have a look, holding a hand up to give them both a high five. You send him a smile only reserved for him, walking to put Sebastian into his high chair afterward. You go to the living room to find a few toys he can play with until dinner is ready. 

“Can I watch Nanalan after dinner?” Inés asks during dinner, mouth full of food. 

“If you practice your counting first,” you compromise. 

Without hesitation, Inés starts saying numbers out loud, “One, two, three, four, five, six…”

“Inés,” you say, a crease on your forehead.

“You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Peña,” Javier teases, “But I think you walked right into that one.”

“Shush, you,” you tut and, out of spite, listen closely after any errors in your daughter’s count. 

After dinner, you take on the job of clearing the table and filling up the dishwasher. Lucas gets a free pass from helping so he can go pop the Nanalan VHS tape into the TV, setting it up for you all to enjoy in just a moment. 

Sebastian plays with a few toy cars as he sits in his high chair. He coos softly, making noises to match the tiny red vehicle. 

Inés, still full of energy, practices counting backward with Javier while you wash up the pan in the sink. He can see you listening to them even with your back turned, knows that you are smiling without looking at your face. 

“C’mon, baby. What comes after six?” He asks, having pulled her chair out to stand in front of her. 

“Seven!” She answers confidently and it is technically not wrong.

He smiles with amusement, “We’re counting backward. Down from ten. Try again. Teeeen…”

“Ten… nine… eight…” she says loudly. 

Javier waits patiently. He holds up the number of fingers equal to the numbers she is saying. She furrows her brows in concentration and continues, “Seven… six… five…”

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he encourages. 

Inés grips the seat of her chair in excitement, “Three!”

“Are you sure?” He stops her briefly. 

She looks up at him, hesitating for a moment and seeking reassurance, “Four.”

He nods, “You got this.”

She smiles brightly, “Three! Two! One!”

“Bien hecho, Princesa (well done, princess)!” He praises loudly and leans down over her to kiss the top of her head repeatedly, “Eres mi chica lista (you’re my clever girl).”

She stretches up her arms to which he responds by lifting her up from the chair with a groan. She is getting so big, he thinks as he places her on his hip, or maybe he is just getting old. He gets an idea, even if it’ll hurt the muscles in his back, “You know, baby, counting backward is very important. That’s what they do when they launch rockets into space. Try again, see what happens.”

Inés’ eyes light up as she starts counting again. She rushes through it, seeming to do well when something unknown comes afterward. When she gets to one, Javier lifts her high into the air and spins in the kitchen. 

“Liftoff!” He announces, moving around in figure eights to imitate her flying and she squeals with laughter. The sound is one of those that bubble up in her chest, completely unrestrained and pure in its entirety, and Javier’s heart goes into overdrive when he knows that he is the one causing it. There’s nothing that can hurt him in these moments, nothing that can bring him down from the pride he takes in making his kids feel safe and happy. 

“Oh no!” He continues his part, “Inés Peña, well-renowned astronaut, is attacked by aliens from el planeta rojo (the red planet)!”

“¡Papá, no (Daddy, no)!” She giggles and wiggles in his arms as he buries his nose in her cheek, “¡No permitas que me atrapen los alienígenas (Don’t let the aliens catch me)!” 

“Too late!” He tells her before pretending to sink his teeth into her round cheek. He growls like only an alien attacker would and his daughter shrieks with laughter. 

He stops to let her breathe, her little form shaking as she tries to regain her composure. She throws her arms around his neck, looking over at you in secret and lowering her voice to a whisper that’s way too loud. 

“Do it to Mommy!” She demands. 

You perk up at hearing your nickname and turn around with your hands covered in dish soap and water. You watch, like a deer in the headlights, as Javier places Inés down on her feet. He smirks like a devil and you step backwards but only bump into the kitchen counter. Your wet arms come up to screen your face as he approaches you, looking devilish with his arms out in front of him. He makes grabby hands in the air. 

“You are not doing that to me!” You squeak. He leans into you, and the look behind your arms tells him that you know it is a fight that you have already lost. Still, you try to sidestep him but he just cages you with a quick sweep of his arms. 

“I got you now. No hay manera de escapar, mi amor (there is no escaping, my love),” he moves your arms away without caring about getting wet himself and pulls you into a tight embrace. He bites into your cheek a mere moment later, growling like a dog whilst Inés laughs so loudly that your look says that you might let him give you five more children if he wants. The nibbles turn into several silly kisses, eventually turning into a long, deep kiss too. God, he is going to make love to you tonight.

Behind the two of you, Inés makes a noise of disgust, “Ew! Mushy Daddy!” 

Javier pulls away from you and wipes his hands in his shirt. He ruffles Inés’ hair, “Well, you better run to your brother if you don’t want to see Mommy get another big kiss from Daddy.”

Inés dashes off towards the living room with uncontrollable giggles. Once she’s out of sight, Javier turns to see you drying your hands in a kitchen towel. He seeks you out and you meet his embrace by throwing your arms around his neck. 

“Do you think I missed my calling as an alien invader?” He asks with his lips resting against your ear as you hug.

He can feel you shaking your head, “No, husband, I think you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

“Mhm, wife,” he pulls back to kiss you again, and again and again and again. 

“They’re waiting in the living room,” you stop him, a hand on his chest to reluctantly push him away, “I’ll take Seb.” 

The five of you watch a few episodes together in a pile on the couch. Sebastian sits in your lap while Inés cuddles up into Javier’s side. Lucas mutes his video game but chooses it over the children’s show, repeatedly pressing buttons and trying not to make too loud noises when he wins or loses. 

It ends with the usual bedtime routines an hour later. Teeth are brushed, all three children have no complaints during bathtime, bedtime stories are told and forehead kisses are given even if Inés is already out cold. Javier loves this the most, at least when it goes smoothly.

Eventually, the evening leaves your pile on the couch to only consist of the two of you. 

“We put Inés to bed thirty minutes ago and we’re still watching Nanalan,” you note from your side of the couch, looking at Javier out of the corner of your eye and snickering before you reach the end of your sentence. 

Javier tears his eyes from the screen, his body slumped into the corner of the couch and with the blanket draped over his body. He hides a smile, knowing he has the upper hand in this situation, “Well, get the remote then.”

You have your legs pulled up with them crossed underneath you. You grimace and pat your stomach, “Never gonna happen with this belly.”

He cracks a smile, tone serious in a joking manner which he knows always gets you, “Well then you sit there and keep quiet. I’m missing my show. I haven’t seen if Mona learns a lesson yet.” 

With that, he fixes his gaze on the TV again. You throw your head back to laugh at his silliness and accidentally snort. You squirm and he knows you’re trying your best not to pee a little from the giggling. You cover your mouth but Javier’s head still whips around to stare at you again, looking like he should be a cartoon character with hearts in their eyes.

He starts moving, crawls further toward you, and drags the blanket with him to cover both of your bodies. You shove at him, “Get the remote, Peña.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” He scoffs, cuddling up next to you, halfway lying down and crossing his arms over his chest, “I’m not switching channels here. I like Nana. She’s wise.”

“She your favorite?” You smirk down at him, teasing him still. 

“No, you’re my favorite, mi amor (my love),” he wiggles his brows, staring up at you with every intention of making you laugh, “Stop asking stupid questions.”

“Smooth,” you smile with a shake of your head. You purse your lips and he groans dramatically when he moves up to kiss you, pecking your mouth gently. You reach to ruffle his hair until it is untidy.

“You know, baby, my hair takes all night to style,” he sighs and starts to flatten the stray locks again, “You could be a little more considerate.”

“I’m pregnant,” you argue, “You try being considerate.”

“You’ve been pregnant for nearly two years straight,” his eyes wander back to Nana and Mona.

“And whose fault is that?” You start to watch too. 

“Shut up.”

“I rest my case.”

The both of you watch Nanalan for a while. With a foot, Javier pulls the coffee table closer for you so you can stretch your legs and rest your feet on it. You seem less invested in whether Mona will learn how to take care of the baby bird in Nana’s garden than he is but it doesn’t matter because during the episode, your positions shift and suddenly you are resting against him instead. He feels like a teenager each time this happens, heart racing at having a pretty girl in close proximity, but unlike 16-year-old Javier Peña, he has already gotten the girl and is therefore without clammy hands.

He drapes his arm around your back until his hand rests on your waist, pulling your pregnant body against himself until you automatically lean your head on his shoulder. In the end, you doze off, having gotten into a habit of falling asleep in front of the television. 

When the credits roll over the screen, he nudges you, “Let’s get you to bed.”

You whine so adorably and scoot further into his side, “I don’t want to go all the way upstairs.”

“If you don’t get up, I’ll do it again,” he says, intending to confuse you. 

You pull back to look at him with furrowed brows, “Do what?”

Javier pokes the tip of his nose into your cheek and then imitates a series of bites to your face just like earlier. He makes the noise of a dinosaur this time, growling close to your ear and making you squeal from the tickling sensation it gives. 

“No!” You shriek, “I’ll get up! I swear!”

“Are you sure?” Javier doesn’t stop, only nuzzles further into you and bites the flesh of your cheek for real this time. His whole body fills up with butterflies as you laugh at his torment. 

When eventually showing you mercy, he throws the blanket to the side and pushes himself to stand up. You put your feet on the floor and take his hands when he holds them out for you. He hauls you to your feet. 

After a quick shared shower, you moisturize your belly in the bedroom and pick out your sleepwear whilst he dresses in a new pair of briefs. It is a quiet and relaxing ritual where none of you speak a word, moving around each other in synchronous harmony. 

It’s when you go to pee and change that he notices the little device on the nightstand, plugged in to charge, and he furrows his brow in confusion. The door is closed to the bathroom and he can hear the sound of your toothbrushing, so you won’t be barging in on him as he satisfies his curiosity. 

With quick fingers, he pulls the cord out of the bottom and holds it closer to his face to examine the little pink thing. He hasn’t seen one of these before; staring down into the hole at the top and trying to make sense of what will happen when he presses the button. 

The little thing whirs to life when he does and he can see the way the tip pulses erratically, sparking his interest and triggering the instinct to hold it against the palm of his hand. His brows nearly rise into his hair as he feels the way the vibrator suckles on his skin, so he taps his hand a few times to feel it let go and attach again. It’s when he realizes what it’s meant to do for you that he feels his cock move in his briefs. It happens again when he knows it means that you have used it today whilst being home alone. 

He presses the button on the side again and feels the vibrations become more intense and he nearly throws the cute thing across the room when he tries to turn it off by pressing the button again and the buzzing only gets louder and louder and more and more intense. 

“You two need a moment alone?” You ask from the doorway to the bathroom, smirking as he sheepishly finds your gaze. You have changed into a pair of way too tiny sleep shorts and one of his gray t-shirts, and it looks so naturally stunning on you that he nearly drops the toy. Why is he hard? Christ, he is possibly aching. He wants to throw you on the bed and pull those tiny shorts off and—

“Did you two already have a moment alone?” He asks when he has regained his composure. 

“Maybe, and maybe it was pretty great,” you tease and make your way to him. When you stand in front of him on your side of the bed, your eyes wander downward until you stare at the bulge on the front of his briefs. Your tone is triumphant and sing-songy, “You’re hard.”

“You’re wearing my t-shirt,” he notes as if it’s the most logical explanation in the world. His gaze drops to the way the soft cotton fabric drapes over your tits, leaving just enough up to the imagination but clearly showing off the way your nipples have hardened at the conversation. He twirls the little sucking toy in his hands, wants to make you come with it attached to your nipple until he can see heat rising in your cheeks and then he’ll let the device do its job between your legs. 

“Horndog,” you roll your eyes affectionately, “I can’t even wear clothes? I thought it would be not wearing any clothes that would get you.”

“Can I try this on you?” He decides to be straightforward and just asks while holding the vibrator up between the two of you, “You can guide me.”

“Now?” You raise a brow. 

“Yes, now,” he huffs out a dark, little laugh and takes a step further toward you as if he is a predator caging his pretty prey. You don’t seem affected by it but your nipples might soon poke holes in your shirt, “I mean, I’m a little curious here, so if you’re up for it. I was gonna try to get laid anyway…”

“Charming,” you let yourself fall down into bed, sitting on the edge. Javier places the toy on the nightstand to grab underneath your knees, lifting your legs to help you scoot back onto the mattress. 

“Is that a yes?” He awaits your green light. 

“Yes. Don’t go overboard with it though. It’s pretty intense,” you reply and hook your fingers into the waistband of your shorts. You start to shimmy out of them and he helps you completely out of them when they sit around your knees. Then he bends your legs and spreads them apart. 

“Tell me what to do,” he goes to grab the toy again, kneels between your legs, and awaits orders. He clicks the button and the little thing comes alive once again. You’re just about to reply when he cannot help but ask, “Does it work on your tits?”

“I thought you wanted me to guide you,” you retort but in response to his question, you reach for the hem of your t-shirt and start to pull it up over your pregnant body. He stops you when it sits just above your tits, coming closer to you by spreading his thighs until you drape your own thighs over them. 

“Shut it… and listen to this. It’s pretty loud,” he notes as he feels the little sucker on his palm again, tapping the heel of his hand with it. 

“It’s quieter when it’s in place,” you say with heat in your cheeks, anticipation evident on your face, “So don’t worry about switching up the intensity when I get close.” 

“Ah… but no going overboard,” he nods, grinning down at you. Sure. He drags out the testing on his palm to get you worked up even more, knowing it will only increase the pulse in your whole body until you might cuss him out when he actually goes to work on you. He loves your body when it is pregnant and sensitive, and while he would never let anyone in on what the two of you do behind closed doors, there’s a part of him that wants to brag to Steve about how you cream yourself from getting your breasts played with whenever you have a baby - this time babies - in your belly or your body is raging with postpartum hormones. Oh, he thinks to himself, what a privilege it is to get to see you like he will in just a moment. 

“Javi,” you complain beneath him. 

“Yeah yeah, chica impaciente (impatient girl),” he tuts and finally places the toy against the skin of your cleavage. You suck in a breath, reacting already more intensely than he thought you would. He supposes that it’s due to knowing how it’s going to feel, and he elicits a little moan from you as he drags the head of the toy across your chest. 

“Don’t tease me,” you grumble, squeezing your thighs around his waist. When he looks down between your legs, he can see the way it makes your cunt clench too. You’re trying to stimulate yourself untouched. 

“Christ, you’re a dirty little girl for this thing. What magic does it do for you?” He raises his brows and inches the toy closer to your right breast. He dances around the swell and you bite your lower lip.

“You don’t understand,” you say breathlessly.

“Humor me,” he demands. 

“It feels… like when your teeth nip at my skin,” you explain with eyes that are already glazed over with desire, “It feels like when your mouth is just about to get where I wa— Fuck.”

Javier has covered your right nipple with the toy and between your legs, a damp spot has marked the white sheets. He moves the head of the little sucker around your gorgeous, perky nipple and your moan only increases in volume. 

“Shh, los niños están dormidos (the children are asleep),” he whispers above you, removing the toy to lean down over you and get closer to your face, “Keep your little mouth shut or I’ll need to stop.”

You look desperately at him, shake your head, and whimper at the threat. He pecks your lips with a pleased smirk before you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. It gets even harder for you when he descends on you, gathering spit in his mouth before letting it drip down onto your played-with nipple in an obscene manner. 

“Waterproof, I’m guessing?” He awaits your answer. 

“Mhm,” you nod and then writhe as he covers the peak of your breast again. You let your hand push down into the mattress, making a noise in the back of your throat as he presses the button to turn up the intensity. You fight between throwing your head back and keeping your eyes fixed on what he is doing to you. 

“Eyes on me,” he decides for you. 

“Baby,” you whine and follow through, thighs tightening around his waist as you stare at him. You start thrusting against nothing, lifting your pelvis to squeeze your pussy in time with the still somewhat slow pulses to your chest. 

Javier straightens fully again and your gaze follows obediently. He lifts his left hand to his mouth, sticking two fingers past his lips to wet them with his spit, and then he finds your other nipple. He rubs in soft circles for just a moment before he pinches it between the two digits, tugging at it slightly until he sees slick drip from your aching slit. He cannot help the soft noise he lets out as he watches the drip of your come hit the bed. He is so hard it hurts from just thinking about being inside of you as you continue flexing your pelvis like that.

How the fuck are you going to come from just this? Has he really spent so much time in bed with you that this is something he can force out of you? He is struck by fascination at your trembling body, letting you breathe, even if it’s just barely, by swirling the toy around your nipple. 

“More,” you pant in frustration, swallowing down a frustrated moan to not piss him off, “Turn it up.”

“Hey, that’s not how we ask for things in this family. What’s the magic word?” He teases, finger hovering over the button. He pinches your nipple with the fingers on his other hand, forcing a cry past your lips. You don’t even get to the please. 

Instead, your hand flies to your mouth but you manage to calm your noises again, sliding your fingers into your hair instead. Javier decides then to press the button twice before putting it back on you, watching those fingers yank at your own follicles. You nod and your hips are practically gyrating by now. 

“Javi, fu— fuck,” you gasp out, “I—“

“I know, baby. I can see it on you,” he says, making a noise low in his throat at the way your head falls back into the mattress. Your eyes roll back into your skull, your bottom lip getting caught between your teeth again as you teeter on the edge of your first orgasm. He cannot believe your clit is still untouched because when he dares look down, it peeks out from underneath its hood as if he’s been giving it attention. 

“I’m gonna come,” you announce with a strained voice, still very aware of your noise levels. Quickly, you reach down to cover your mouth with the whole of your palm and then, with furrowed brows, you’re off into ecstasy. It hits you like a shot of adrenaline, your body going rigid before writhing on the sheets. The hand on your mouth turns your moans into desperate whines that stir Javier’s desire even more. His heart races at the sight, his eyes watching hungrily as you come undone the first time of many. 

“Jesus Christ, Mamá,” he removes his hands and turns off the toy when you go from enjoying the tingling of pleasure to shaking at the oversensitivity of your breasts. 

The hand falls from your satisfied smile to lay beside your head. You giggle as excitement is flowing through your veins, “Gimme a second and you can go again.”

“Is it better than me?” He smiles at your cute laughter and wiggles his brow.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you roll your eyes, “Not even close but it’s nice if you’re not available.”

“You know… I would come home during my break if you needed me,” he leaves the toy next to you so he can crawl over you and dip down for a long kiss. 

“I’m sure you would,” you nod at his words, slipping your tongue past his lips. 

He holds himself up with a forearm above you so he can use his free hand to push your shirt further up and over your head. You stretch your arms above your head to help him rid you of it completely, only breaking the kiss for the moment it takes. 

“I’m ready for one more,” you say after a few minutes of just making out with him, arms slung around his neck in a desperate embrace and lips kissing him until they’re swollen. When he sits up on his knees again, he notices the way that his mustache has scratched you slightly and makes a mental note to trim it sometime tomorrow. 

You look so radiant when you’re in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss, and while he gets his pillow to place it underneath your hips, he admires the beauty of you underneath him like this. You have your hair tousled, your eyes are half-lidded, barely open from the way remnants of pleasure still hasn’t been washed away from them, and your velvety skin glistens with a sheen of sweat that’ll make you shiver if he doesn’t heat you up again. Javier wants to lick it off, wants to eat you up until he has devoured you. You’re beyond softer and sexier than any other time he gets to witness you. 

“Javi,” you murmur softly when he’s too slow. 

“What, mi amor (my love)?” He pretends not to hear your demanding voice hidden beneath your tired one. 

“I wanna do it again,” you have a playful glint in your eye. 

“Again?” He teases but his cock pulses, heavy between his legs at the knowledge that he will see you come undone once more in just a moment. He chooses the word moment because the little sucker knows what it is doing and if you respond so well to getting your nipples played with, a part of him is afraid that it’ll be over the second it touches your clit. 

“Javi,” you drag out his name in further frustration. 

Javier rubs your thigh soothingly, “You’re obsessed with this thing. How long have you had it?” 

“Uhh, not long,” you reply, visibly clenching at just hearing the toy start buzzing again. You scoot further towards him, presenting your pussy for him.

“So directly? Or?” He reaches down between your legs, the toy hovering over your mound for a moment before he decides to let it suckle on the skin of your inner thigh where he has just touched you. You breathe deeply in through your nose, wanting to look down at what he is doing but your pregnant belly is already shielding it from view. 

“Yes but the lowest setting,” you instruct. Your hand dips down between your thighs to spread your lips, giving him access to your hard clit, “I’m still sensitive.”

“And wet, ¡Dios mío (my God)!” He marvels with suppressed excitement and moves the toy inwards, trailing its tip until it sits right by your hand. You sigh at the attention, dripping even more from your slit in anticipation. 

Your hips hitch up when he finally covers your clit with the hole of the toy, a quiet moan slipping from your mouth as it falls open. Your face goes slack in contrast to the tension in your pelvis, your body subconsciously moving around to seek the most sensation. 

He guides it steadily up and down, barely rocking it but still moving it enough to create just a bit of a tug on your swollen nub. He sees you lose yourself in it and stares down at you while cupping the bulge on the front of his briefs to relieve some of the desperate pain. He moans low in his throat, “Mi chica bonita (my beautiful girl).”

You respond with a little louder noise, an orgasm already creeping up on you. He shushes you gently, “No noise, baby. Try breathing through your nose or I’ll have to cover your mouth.” 

You clamp your mouth shut and make a muffled sound.

“Look at that pussy flutter for me,” he looks between your legs then smiles up at you, pleased with what he is doing to you. He turns up the power on the toy. Your head falls back against the bed. He sees your brows knit together and then he knows, “Come on, baby, that’s it.”

Your orgasm hits you like a lightning bolt. Javier watches with his hand gripping firmly around the outline of his cock and the toy held firmly against your core. You do a fantastic job of making as little noise as possible but the desire to make a racket is there beneath the surface, especially when your high peaks and there’s a moment where you hold your breath just before shivering with the pleasure in your cunt. 

He gives you another break but you shake your head. He looks curiously down at you, uncertain if you mean it, “No? Again?”

“Make it hurt, please, Javi,” you beg and he thinks he might come untouched from those words. It’s so rare to have you like this when the house is still full. He doesn’t doubt whether it is a good idea though, just turns up the heat and sends you hurtling towards another orgasm. 

You gasp towards the ceiling and slam your legs closed while you grab at the sheets. You look like you are possessed, eyes rolling back into your skull as you come a third time. It must be painful because you are whimpering like a wounded animal, nearly ripping the fabric underneath you and begging silently by only mouthing the words in a worse manner than he has ever experienced as a father of three - soon five - children. 

“Keep going,” you demand almost angrily, concentration on your face as he presses the button to the next level of pulses. 

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, “You’re about to levitate into the air, aren’t you?”

“I’m gonna come,” you inform him breathlessly.

“Already?” Javier’s brows are nearly in his hair. He is stroking himself on top of his underwear now, itching to feel something when you are lying in a pool of tears, sweat, and your come. Seeing you like this, he has no idea how he is ever going to get anything practical done this weekend; he’ll be doing you every chance he gets until you can’t walk. So hard that he’ll have an excuse to stay home with you on Monday just so he can spear you on his aching cock over and over. Even if you scream, even if you drool, and even if you sob.

When your fourth orgasm of the night starts to gain up on you, he observes the way your legs start to twitch. He holds the toy steady, pushing it against your clit as you nearly go cross-eyed with pleasure. His eyes are wide, the concentration lost for just a second too long when your legs start shaking as you near your end. The toy slips just half an inch, losing its grip on your clit and the accident turns you feral. You reach for his hand, yanking the toy out of his palm, and settle it back into place. 

And then you come. So hard that he has no idea what to say or do, watching a steady trickle of pearly white mess gush out of you as your pussy jumps along with your heartbeat. You try so desperately to keep quiet but the sensation seems to be so intense that you might draw blood from your lip if you don’t get to cry. 

“One loud one, no, no, look at me. One,” he tells you calmly, knowing you are probably seeing spots, “Let me hear.”

You don’t hesitate, face scrunched up in ecstasy while you let out a wreaking sob that’s so close to you screaming that he almost (but not really) regrets allowing you to be noisy. You pant, kick, and scream, tears running down your face as you are lost to the world, leaving him with nothing to do but stare hungrily as he thanks the heavens that you have found a toy that makes you look so happy and beautiful. He’d be its lead promoter if someone wanted him to. 

When it becomes too much, you don’t even turn off the thing. You simply just let it fall from your hands and slump into the bed, your thighs sticky with sweat and slick against Javier’s own. He listens for the sound of tiny footsteps down the hallway for a moment but there’s nothing, not even a squeak from the baby monitor.

“Get inside of me,” you half-beg, half-order with barely any breath in your chest. Javier doesn’t hesitate to step off the bed, slipping his briefs off, and stepping out of them when they pool around his feet. Your eyes watch, huge and wet, filled with desperation for being stretched out after only having your clit played with. He will never dream of denying you when you look like that. You nearly hiccup, “Please.”

“Shh, you’ll get it, mi vida (my life), you’ll get whatever you want,” he soothes softly but then continues the rough streak. He curls his hands around the back of your knees and yanks you off the pillow towards the edge of the bed, sliding your body through the mess you have created. 

You are like a siren with the eyes you are sending him, making his cock stand in the air and at level with your empty cunt. He grabs at the base of his length, guiding the thick head through your folds for a few seconds to slick himself up. However, the need to be inside of you, to pound into you, is too much and he pushes into you not long after. 

The feeling of filling you up has Javier’s heart pounding against his ribs, endorphins running through his system as his mind quiets down completely when he has you like this. Your warm and familiar walls engulf his touch-starved cock and the both of you breathe shakily in relief as you melt together. You even manage a mix between a breathless laugh and a quiet moan, a sound that makes him twitch inside of you as he regains his composure. When he starts fucking you, dragging you by your legs down onto his cock over and over again, he realizes that he doesn’t even need to be careful, your walls so wet and soft from how much you’ve been touched. 

He repeatedly snaps his hips forward to cause an obscene smacking noise that bounces off the walls. You nod frantically at the way he moves inside of you, nose scrunching up with concentration on the sensation of his dick slamming into your front wall. Yet it seems as if you’ve become nearly impossible to please from coming so many times; your hands are placed on top of his, frustration evident on your face, “Harder.” 

“Nena (baby girl),” he pants whilst fucking you, “I’m already going hard.”

“I need it harder,” you whine, writhing slightly, “Please.”

“What’s gotten into you tonight?” He asks playfully and earns a glare that you only seem to perfect when you are pregnant and not getting your way. He smooths his palms up and down your sweaty thighs, thrusts coming to a complete halt, “Crawl back.”

He pulls out his cock with a grunt, letting you gaze hungrily at it when you’ve seen it glistening with your wetness. He is the one getting impatient now, snapping his fingers to keep up the part he is playing for you, his role as the man in charge even if it’s hardly true, “Go on then. Back.”

You move with shaky limbs, your body exhausted from its continuous stimulus. You end up lying flat on your back with your legs wide open for him, holding out your arms with a tiny dissatisfied complaint of a whimper, “Javi.”

Javier finally kneels on the bed and moves forward until he is hovering above you. He grabs the still buzzing toy on the bed and reaches for your hand. He places the toy in your palm and closes your fingers around it, knowing what he wants, “I just need you to promise me that you’ll choke my dick when I fuck you with this joining the fun.”

You nod repeatedly and that’s good enough for him to go crazy for you, even wreck the bed if that’s what you want to do. Thank God that there’s no school tomorrow because you’d be hobbling around with how sore he is going to make - and has already made - you. He leans down and cages you underneath him, buries his face in your neck as he bottoms out inside you in one hard thrust. His pelvis touches yours, his chest, your sensitive tits, his body unable to get close enough.

When he rocks his hips this time, he starts really putting his back into it. You slide your free hand up his bicep to cling to his shoulder, saving yourself from being pushed across the mattress with how forcefully he drives his cock into your heat.

He breathes hard as he exhausts his body to give you what you need, knowing that you can take it even if it aches. He can feel drops of sweat slide down the length of his spine, gathering at the small of his back as he switches to harsh rolls of his hips. 

The switch gives you room. He doesn’t have to actively listen for the muffling of the sucking toy’s buzz to know that you have started to hold it against your clit because your whole cunt jumps at the attention. 

You press your mouth into his bare shoulder to muffle your screams, bravely taking on another round of obscene pleasure as his lower belly burns with the desire to come. 

His head swims with the overtaxing use of his muscles, the strain on his thighs that has started to ache from how much he wants to make your head spin. He feels a tear fall from your eye and drop down on his skin, your whimpering voice trying to encourage him not to stop the torture of your cunt. 

“Fuck,” he gasps as the sensations are becoming increasingly more intense. He turns his head to breathe heavily against your ear, breathing damp against the shell of it when he tries to speak while his lungs empty as small puffs of air. He wants to tell you how good it feels, and concentrates on whispering filthy things in your ear, “That’s it, you can— oh God, you can take it, baby.”

You sound like you’re trying to overcome your own body, fluctuating between whines and groans. He goes on, “No wonder you’re always carrying my babies. You take it so fucking well each time, amor (love). Made for it. Made for getting knocked up.”

You lock your legs around his ankles, clinging to him as he crashes into you repeatedly. He hears you desperately move the sucking toy back and forth, hears the intensity being turned up to a higher level than he has even dared. You sound pornographic even in your quietness - like one of those videos where they don’t want to get caught but just cannot keep all noise at bay - as you get fucked by him whilst it sends you through the gates of pleasure heaven simultaneously. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

“And if you weren’t made for it, I’d be sure to mold that little pussy into shape,” he growls quietly. You start to have that dazed look in your eye, have a grip around his cock that tells him exactly what is going to happen, “Oh, baby. You gonna come on my cock, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you squeak. 

“Yeah?” He mocks. 

Javier enters the final sprint, fucking you open in a frantic rush that almost borders on being gross, greedy and animalistic. You mewl pathetically from the intensity, biting into his skin as he makes you come with pleasure slamming through your body roughly enough to make you start crying. 

To soothe you, he pulls back his head to kiss you longingly even if it becomes nothing more than a messy crash of your mouths together. He does it to quieten down himself too, finding that his stomach is tightening and his balls are drawing up from being so close. You’ve tightened around him too because whereas you should remove the sucker from your clit, once again, you don’t, and the questionable choice has your walls clamping down on him in overstimulation, squeezing his dick so heavenly that his hips stutter. He comes inside of you when the smaller fit has him seeing stars, groaning into your mouth as he pulses into you. 

The buzz of the toy becomes louder again but only because it slips from your hand, your body trembling with overwhelming excitement as you come down from your millionth orgasm in a fairly short period of time. You sob without being sad, curling in on yourself as soon as he pulls out of the dripping mess between your legs. He is on you instantaneously, pushing your hair out of your face, turning off the toy, and cooing gently. 

“Oh, Nena (baby girl), you’re okay,” he tuts while you cry quietly, several teardrops rolling down your nose as your body tries to escape itself. He kisses your shoulder, blows a raspberry on it, “You did so good for me. You’re okay. We just went a little overboard.”

Javier rolls off of you but instead of following the instinct to rest his exhausted body by lying down, he sits up in your shared bed. He scoots close to you until he can coax you to drag yourself into his lap with a feeble whimper, wrapping his arms around you and rocking you back and forth like a newborn. He supposes you must feel rebirthed. You sob into his chest, cheek pressed into where his heart hammers, and still overwhelmed with the painful pleasure that you have just experienced. 

“Shh,” he whispers with his lips pressed to the crown of your head. He kisses your hair, rubbing soothing circles into your sweaty back until your cries turn into tiny hiccups instead, “It’s alright. You’re alright.”

The way you cling to him tells him that you feel safe with him. He dares lift your chin, looking into your puffy, red eyes and rubbing a tear-streak away from your face. His voice is raspy from sex, “Are you okay, baby?” 

“I’m okay,” you croak with a tired and tiny smile, shivering as the sweat starts to cool down. He holds you a little tighter. You relax in his arms even despite getting a bit of control back, “Scatterbrained.”

“Lo sé (I know),” he huffs out a chuckle with another kiss to your head. He cups your jaw and dips down for a kiss on the lips too, thumb rubbing affectionately along your cheekbone, “Pero eres tan hermosa (but you’re so pretty).”

“Thank you,” you cover his hand on your face with your own, “I’m ready to conk out.”

“Shower?” He asks and suggests at the same time.

“I won’t be able to stand upright for that long,” you run your hand over your forehead instead, laughing quietly.

“Alright, bath it is then,” he gently runs his fingers through your hair, “Ready?”

“You’re going to carry me?” You ask with a raised brow as he starts moving towards the edge of the bed with you, “I weigh a ton with this pregnant belly.” 

“I do lifts with our daughter on the daily, you know,” he jokes, “Best workout method in years. Even if she talks a lot.”

You yelp with a laugh as he picks you up effortlessly and carries you through the bathroom, crossing the tiled floor with you in his arms bridal style, and sets you carefully on the edge of the bathtub. As he turns on the tap and lets the tub fill, he imagines the cool porcelain is nice against your sore thighs and cunt. 

After testing the water, he gently helps you into the tub with a comfortable silence between you. The content look on your face is a reward in itself, even moreso the sigh that you let out as the water envelops you and turns your tired muscles to putty. 

Javier washes your hair, leaning your head back and scooping water into his hand to rinse out the shampoo. He runs his fingers across your back and shoulders too, relieving some of the tension he has caused tonight. 

“What about dinner tomorrow?” You ask out of the blue and he nearly wants to laugh because, of course, you’re already back to being a mother. 

He puts conditioner in your hair, “I was just inside of you.”

“And that means that I can’t start planning your kids’ best lives?” You tease. 

He rolls his eyes affectionately, “Fine. I think we should just do something easy.”

“Actually,” you say. Here we go, he thinks. You turn your head to look up at him, “The kids have been talking about a picnic in the backyard, and Lucas really wants to try out the new tent we bought.”

“Mhm,” he hums, not protesting. It does sound fun. 

“And I checked the weather forecast earlier,” you add then clarify, “It won’t rain.”

“Baby,” he says with an affectionate smile as he rinses out the conditioner too, “You need to shut down that brain of yours. You do plenty enough to keep us happy.”

“It does shut down sometimes,” you reassure him with a little smile, rubbing your nose in a manner that he always finds adorable. You lean back to simply soak in the warm water, belly just poking out above the surface, “When you touch me.”

Javier lays a hand on your stomach, caressing you in slow circles. He feels playful when he knows you’re getting back into your normal self again, “Guess I’ll just have to keep touching you then.”

“I guess so,” you reply simply, eyes closed and a lazy smile on your face. Jesus Christ, he loves you and everything you have given him. 

“I’ll let you sit here for a few more minutes, really let you cook,” he tells you, bending down to kiss your hair. He pushes himself to stand, “I’m gonna go plug your new friend in all over. I think we drained the battery.”

“Don’t pass out,” you say in a sing-song voice, “Love you.”

“Te amo tanto, mi amor (I love you so much, my love),” he replies and leaves you alone with a hand on your belly. He hears you talk to his unborn children, and it’s almost sad that the time it takes for him to wash the toy gently in the sink, plug it in, and head back to you isn’t long. 

Finally, with his help, you finish the bath. He helps you to the seat of the toilet, hands you a towel, and drains water from the tub.

“I had the same old question today,” he small-talks while you are on the toilet to dry yourself. He steps over the edge of the newly-drained tub to stand in it, pulling the shower head off the wall to wash himself down from the remnants of what you have just done in bed. He’ll hurry up to finish before you so you don’t start changing the sheets in your pregnant condition. 

“Yeah?” You decide against what you are doing and go, albeit shakily, to find a flannel. You soak it in lukewarm water and instantly sigh as you place it between your legs. 

“Lucas wants that damn dog so badly,” he continues as he washes himself, “I told him it was a bad idea. He got pretty upset.”

“Is it? A bad idea, I mean?” You wash the flannel clean after using it and wring out the excess water before hanging it on the side of the laundry basket.

“I said yes but I also said it was you who had the final say in it. I’m not carrying a litter,” he huffs a small laugh and steps out onto the bath mat. He dries himself, “Two babies, a toddler, and a puppy seems like pushing it, baby, no matter how well-behaved.” 

“I had a dog growing up. It was pretty great and made me feel less alone,” you muse. You turn around to lean against the bathroom counter to steady yourself, watching him with a smile in your naked state, “We could find one in a shelter. A grown one.”

God, you are pretty. He hangs up his towel and draws nearer, stopping only when he has you caged between the sink and himself. He leans in for a kiss and you cup his face whilst he talks, “You’re so good.”

“We could surprise him for his birthday. I don’t like those puppies spending time in those cages during August. It’s too hot. They should be running in the grass,” you scratch his cheeks with your nails, pouting slightly. 

He kisses the pout off your face and puts a hand on your protruding belly, “You’ll look so beautiful during August.” 

“This isn’t about me,” you note with a grin and pat his hand, “Focus on your son for a second.”

“We’ll never be able to top that birthday present,” he says with his eyes glazed over by love, “Just saying.”

“But he’ll remember it for the rest of his life,” you argue. 

“Guess we’ll have to browse the local places then,” he gives in, sliding his hand around your waist. 

“You’re a great dad,” you return the caress by laying your palm on his bare chest. His pulse is high when you look at him like that, saying those things. 

“Don’t or I’ll have you right here again,” he threatens playfully. 

Despite your previous state, you respond cockily by turning around so your ass is level with his dick. You lean forward slightly but only to grab your toothbrush for the second time tonight and disappoint him. 

“Anything else happen today?” You ask as if nothing has happened whilst putting toothpaste on your brush. It matches his. You look at him through the mirror and he takes a moment to think, collecting his thoughts instead of getting hard again. 

“Oh, right, uh,” he gives up and takes a step to the side, reaching for his own toothbrush. You hand over the tube of toothpaste to him. He puts it back in its holder when he is done using it, “Well, there’s a new kid in Inés’ class. I ran into her mom or rather… Inés ran into her.”

You raise a brow in the mirror.

“Anyway, she was real friendly,” he recalls the moment earlier and speaks around his toothbrush, “They’re new in town and she wanted someone to show her around. She actually invited us for coffee.”

You turn to him now, having stopped brushing your teeth. It looks like you are trying not to laugh at him, “Javi…”

“Yeah?” He turns to meet your gaze and furrows his brow. Oblivious. 

“I’m sure she was super excited to invite you and your wife for coffee,” you chuckle, and a bit of toothpaste dribbles down your chin. You reach to wipe it off, “You’re so stupid.”

“Hey,” he clicks his tongue at you. 

“Did you give her your number?” You ask casually. 

“No… I told her that I would find her contact info on the class sheet,” he tells you and you laugh for real this time. 

“Ever the romantic,” you snicker, “Oh, you broke her heart with that.”

“Fuck, do you think she was trying to come onto me?” Javier realizes the true meaning behind the interaction. 

“Well, duh,” you start to brush your teeth again but cannot help giggling throughout the rest of cleaning them, “I bet she was batting her lashes at you.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. I thought she was just being friendly,” he continues his own brushing. 

This happens more and more often. You are so deeply ingrained in his mind that his time as a casanova is so far behind him that he sometimes cannot pick up on these things anymore. He wants to say that it’s a conscious choice to be oblivious but it honestly is not. There’s just no one else but you.

“So are you gonna call her? Is it serious?” You taunt him after rinsing your toothbrushes together. 

“You’re in for a smack to your ass if you continue,” Javier rolls his eyes in an attempt to hide the color of embarrassment in his cheeks. He hurries to go change the sheets before you start doing it.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you blink at him as you pass him to get your clothes from the bed before he has crumpled them up into the dirty sheets. 

He smiles and gets dressed with you afterward, standing on each of your respective sides of the bed without saying much. 

In bed, you kiss and say your ‘I love yous’. He falls asleep after a few minutes of listening to your slowed breathing. Just like he has done thousands of times before. It never gets old.

.

.

.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

[axelsagewrites]

Ragnar Lothbrok*Pet

Pairing: Ragnar x f!captured reader

Kinktober Day twenty-four: thigh riding/dry humping with Ragnar Lothbrok – after taking a Christian girl prisoner he decides to show you the pleasure a heathen can feel

Word count: 1491

Warnings: talks of religion, religious corruption, religious guilt, teasing, heavy flirting, mini crisis of faith ig, being ragnars pet/prisoner, making out, thigh riding, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

“She is a Christian,” Floki whispered in Ragnars ear as the pair studied the girl presented to them, “We should get rid of her, not drag her around with us. She will only slow us down,”

While Floki’s eyes bore into Ragnars skull the kings’ eyes lingered elsewhere. They had taken your village some days ago when one of his men found you hiding in the forest. The sight of you on your knees, even if it were to pray to a false god to survive, was enough to convince Ragnar.

“I should like to keep her,” he said, watching how your lips wrapped around the words you mumbled, “Untie her hands,” he commanded one of his men as Floki sighed.

“What is it with you and your Christian pets? At least keep her hands bound,” he tried to reason but Ragnar just shook his head. He knew you wouldn’t run.

A couple of weeks had passed of successful raiding and gold was beginning to pile up around him. Ragnar sat at the makeshift feast they had decided to throw after taking another village however his eyes were once again on the Christian girl who sat across from him. At first you used to flush under his gaze, a sight he enjoyed and often tried to tease out by whispering pretty words in your ear.

Ragnar leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, “What are you thinking about?” he asked, your eyes snapping up to meet his.

“That I may sleep soon. The night is growing long,”

“That is an excellent idea. Perhaps I should join you,” he said, smirking at the way you began to stutter and flush, “Tell me something. Where you married before?”

You paused for a moment before answering, “No, why?”

Ragnar shook his head, “well I heard,” he said, leaning in closer and grinning as you did the same as his voice dropped to a whisper, “that it is only the married ones who get fucked,”

“I-well-I- yes it would be a sin otherwise,” you stuttered out, face growing hot as Ragnar poured himself another glass of wine. “I’m not even supposed to talk about…that,”

“Why not?”

“It is a sin,”

“Why?” he asked, tilting his head like a curious child.

The awkward smile worn on your lips made a real one grow on his face, “Because god said so,”

“Have you spoken to god,”

“Well, no,”

“Then how do you know?” a frustrated sigh left your lips that made Ragnars grin widen. He was getting to you and enjoying every moment of it. he leaned in closer once more, whispering for your sake more than anything,” Why would a god create something so beautiful then not let you appreciate its wonders?”

“It is a sin,” you clung to the excuse, realising you did not know why either.

The laugh that left his mouth however caught you off guard and your lips twitched, almost forming a smile at the smile on his face. That was until he spoke again, “Perhaps we should sin together one time,” he said, standing and grabbing his cup of wine. Before he could leave, he sauntered over to whisper one last thing in your ear, “And the idea of you falling apart on my cock is enough to make me believe in my god,”

A few more weeks had passed and soon you would be heading back with the raiders to their land. Despite still being wary of many of the men some, Ragnar specifically, had grown on you. “Where will I stay when you take me back with you?” you asked one night as you began to brush through your hair.

Ragnar glanced at you as he began to unlace his boots. While he had unbound your hands, he had insisted on keeping you in his tent, thankfully on your own bed, thought you wondered if this was for his entertainment or safety, “I will find somewhere for you,” he answered simply before reaching to pull his shirt over his head.

Despite seeing this sight many times, the way his muscles flexed, and his tattoos gleamed against his skin made a tingle shoot through your spine. “So, I won’t be a slave? Or is it a thrall you call them?”

Ragnar paused for a moment, his eyes scanning over you, “You need not worry little one. I will take care of you,”

A moment passed before you allowed yourself to smile, “Thank you Ragnar,” you said and a small smile crept onto his lips as he settled himself above his sheets, his eyes scanning over you.

“Come here,” he said, nervousness washing over you, “Trust me,”

You paused at first before standing from beneath your covers. Your underdress was the only thing to cover you now as you crossed the tent. Ragnar patted the spot beside him and cautiously you sat down, picking at your thumbs. His hand closed over yours, “You’ll make yourself bleed,” he said, and you just nodded as his eyes continued to study your face.

“Has anyone ever kissed you?” he whispered.

You swallowed before answering, “Once,” you said, tempted to pick at your skin but somehow resisting, “But I wasn’t very good at it,”

“Perhaps you should try again,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he moved to rest his forehead against yours.

“Perhaps you could teach me,” you whispered, a spark lighting in his eyes, “if I am to go back to your land perhaps it is time I Learned your ways,”

“All our ways?” he asked, his hand reaching over to run his fingers lightly up your thighs making you shiver, “Is that what you desire little one?”

“Would it be so wrong if I did?” you asked and the way your wide eyes gazed into his made Ragnars cock begin to harden.

His hand trailed slowly up your leg, torturously so until it arrived at your hip. You gasped when he grabbed it, pulling you over to straddle his thigh. “Ragnar- “you gasped, when he bent his leg up, propping you up on his strong thigh, “What are you doing?”

“Teaching,” his hands reached for your hair, pulling your lips down onto his. This was far different from the last time someone had kissed you. this was rough and needy and made whines leave your throat as one of his hands moved to your hips.

You couldn’t even question what he was doing before he began to move your hip, making you grind down onto his thigh. The way you whimpered made Ragnar wonder if Odin himself had blessed him. Ragnar guided your hips and soon your body took over, rubbing your clit against his strong thigh as his hand squeezed the flesh of your hips.

When he pulled his lips away yours chased after his making a chuckle leave them before he began to kiss down your jaw. “You don’t need to be quite little one,” he mumbled against your skin as a soft moan left your mouth, “No one will judge,”

His lips soon found the crook of your neck, kissing it in a way that made a knot in your stomach tighten. Since your hips now moved of their own accord his hands were free to travel up your frame, taking your tits in his hand and making you gasp as he squeezed them softly.

He felt his cock twitch at the feeling of the Hardened buds beneath your shift. His fingertips trailed slowly around your nipples at first, enjoying your needy whines before he finally began to roll them between his fingers.

“Oh god,” you moaned as he pinched them gently, but your words just made him want you more and groan against your skin.

It didn’t take long for a tight feeling to spread across your body, “What is happening to me?” you asked but it came out as more of a whine.

“Enjoy it little one,” Ragnar said, his lips moving to kiss your check, “Let yourself let go,” he said before your lips slammed onto his even catching yourself by surprise. Your moans allowed him to slip his tongue in, the kiss becoming messier and more desperate as you grinded against his thigh.

He felt your body jerk and Ragnar smirked into the kiss knowing what was about to happen. Your lips broke apart only for your head to fall in the crook of his shoulder, “Oh god,” you began to moan again before you felt your peak wash over you like a tidal wave.

sensing your body tensing and hips slowly Ragnar reached for your hips, moving them for you so he could watch you ride out your peak on his thigh. Curses left your lips before you finally slumped into his chest. Ragnar let out a small chuckle, letting his leg lay flat and holding you against his chest. Ragnar had defiantly made the right decision he thought.

[lxkeee]

IT'S BEEN SO LONG

-PART TWO

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Adopted! Fem angel! Reader [platonic!]

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

genre: fluff and cute

notes: will be making a male version of this. Someone please remind me.

PART ONE | PART THREE | NAVIGATION

THIS TAKES PLACE TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE PART ONE TIMELINE

Lucifer smiles as he watches his daughter interact with the new guests of the hotel, after the recent extermination, sinners began to slowly get interested with the hotel and wanted to give redemption a shot. Though, he can't exactly say that business is booming as the hotel only gained three new guests—a sibling of three, an older sister, a middle child brother, and their little sister.

They thought the hotel could help them and decided to join, in which Charlie, his daughter welcomed them with open arms.

Currently, he's sitting by the bar while Husk prepares his drink. Lucifer watches the interaction between the youngest new guest and his daughter. Charlie holding the small girl in her arms as she raised her up in the air, the small child giggling in glee. The scene evoking an almost forgotten memory of Lucifer.

“Charlie, Charlie! Uppies again! Please!” the girl giggles and Charlie nodded and raised the smaller girl up, making the child laugh.

The scene almost made Lucifer cry, as a memory flashed in his mind—a certain angel that he sees as a daughter despite not being related to him. [Y/n], his adopted daughter. The first girl he raised, he remembers an almost exact scene as this—the memory where he was still in heaven with her, gently throwing her up in the air and her little angel wings fluttering behind her as she falls back into his arms. Heck, he even remembers that the girl accidentally hit his face with a blast of snow.

Husk raises an eyebrow as he notices the king of hell had such a somber expression on his face, Lucifer didn't even react when he placed down the drink he made for him and just opted to play with glass as he was in deep thought.

The feline raises an eyebrow, turning around to continue wiping a freshly cleaned glass, “Penny for your thoughts?” he grumbles, breaking Lucifer's trail of thoughts.

“Just thinking about something. No need to worry.” Lucifer says softly and Husk huffs but decided not to press any further.

Lucifer went back to thinking again, wondering how his daughter is. After he got cast out of heaven, he never saw her again. He never prayed for the sake of himself nor his family as dare he says it would be offensive as his wife and daughter are demons but he prays that his angelic daughter is taken care of.

Even though kneeling down and praying to his father shatters his pride a little bit but he begs, he begs that [y/n] is well taken care of.

He missed her so much. He's guilty for not being there for her, for not being able to see her grow. How is she? Did she grow up to be a fine young woman? Did she become powerful? Does she remember him? Does she miss him like he misses her? He'll never know.

His memory of her getting worse and worse each day, bit by bit her features become blurry in his mind. He tried painting her once but dear God, he's not a painter. He's more of a singer and musician. He threw away the painting, his skills can't do his daughter justice. A shame he doesn't have any pictures of her.

A somber expression returns to his face, Charlie turns to look at her father who had such a sullen expression on his face. The girl gently let's down the child she was holding, ushering them to go play with Vaggie as she was worried about what had gotten her father down in the dumps.

She then walks towards the bar, takes a seat next to her dad. Husk immediately prepares her usual drink—a glass of wine.

“Is there something wrong, dad?” she asked softly and Lucifer chuckles, taking a sip of his drink—a white Russian cocktail.

“Did I ever tell you that you have an older sister?” He began and Charlie's jaw dropped, Husk stopped midway in making Charlie's drink.

Lucifer chuckles at their reactions, “Yes, you have an older sister... Well, adopted older sister rather.” he says with a lazy smile, nostalgia present in his eyes. For a brief moment, the background noise of the hotel blurs.

Charlie's eyes sparkled, “Wait, really?!” she asked excitedly and Lucifer smiled and ruffled her hair.

“Yes, back in heaven. Older angels were tasked to watch over the newly created angels and that's where I took an angel named [y/n] under my wings,” he explained, taking a deep breath as Charlie nodded intently, Husk giving her the wine glass filled with her drink. Lucifer looks at Charlie again, a somber smile on his face, “She's like a daughter to me and I was like a father to her, she always calls me dad.” he explains, his hand twirling the half empty glass cup, swirling the alcoholic drink around.

Charlie nodded, opting to listen to him and ask questions later, “We used to play everyday, I always spend time with her... Teaching her how to fly and how to use her powers.” he chuckles, his finger wiping away a stray tear from his eye.

“I think she grew up to be a powerful angel, after all, she manifested her powers at such an early age. I think she's a prodigy,” he smiles, his dull eyes sparkling as he mentions her, is what Charlie noticed and she just smiled at him, taking a small sip of her wine.

Lucifer took a sip of his own drink, tasting the vodka, coffee liqueur, and cream mixed together before gently placing down the cup back to the counter, “She actually shot my face with a blast of snow accidentally while trying to make a snowflake.” he says.

Charlie laughs at the story, imagining it, Lucifer smiles and he became sad again, thinking the what if's, what if heaven didn't curse him so bad and allowed him to see her or allow her to see him? What if [y/n] grew alongside Charlie? Would she have been a good older sister to Charlie?

“She sounds amazing, dad.” Charlie whispered to him with a smile and Lucifer nodded, “She is.” he agrees.

Charlie's eyes softened as she held her father's hand, “When was the last time you saw her? If you don't mind me asking?” she asked and Lucifer sighed, remembering [y/n]'s tear streamed chubby cheeks as she watched him fall from heaven, his twin brother, Michael holding onto the girl.

“When I fell from grace.” he whispered and Charlie's eyes saddened and she gave a reassuring squeeze to Lucifer's hand. She imagined how painful it must be for him and for her older sister. She wishes she'd gotten a chance to meet her.

“I am sure you two will meet again one day.” Charlie says with a small smile and Lucifer nodded, giving her a small smile in return. “I hope so, Charlie. You're going to love her.” he says, confidently.

“I think I already do, dad. She sounds amazing.” Charlie said with a grin and Lucifer chuckled, “You two will get along just fine when that time comes.”

TAGLIST:

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[ghost-1-y]

Kinktober 2023 / Monsterfucker Plans (Updated!)

Sea Serpent!Obanai x AFAB Mermaid!Reader – October 3rd @ 6pm PST

Your father had always warned you of the dangers of the deep ocean, demanding that you stay within the safe borders of the underwater kingdom. However, one day, you become curious and secretly travel into waters untraversed by any merperson still alive today – wishing to know what lies beyond the safe confines of your home, not realizing that the countless warnings from your father had been given to you for very good reason.

Incubus!Gojo x AFAB!Reader – October 7th @ 6pm PST

It’s been months since your husband had touched you in the way that you wished, and you’ve started to grow tired of the way he constantly flirts with other women. Completely fed up with both him and the never-ending dry spell you’ve been going through, you retire to the guest room’s bed to fall asleep without your husband, unaware of a shadow that’s been lurking in your home each night, waiting for the right moment to prey on his new victim.

Angel!Mitsuri x AFAB Succubus!Reader – October 10th @ 6pm PST

Mitsuri had always done what she was told to do, singing hymns and praying to her god every single day – ensuring that she fulfilled her duty of spreading the Good News to others far and wide. She never once thought about breaking the rules – much less her vow to chastity, until she found what initially appeared to be a human in a darkened alleyway in need of help, unknowingly falling into a trap that would corrupt her from holiness for the rest of eternity.

Human!Giyuu x AFAB Naiad!Reader – October 14th @ 6pm PST

As a water nymph, you never saw the world from beyond the spring you were born from, having only seen humans come to your spring bearing gifts and performing rituals for the sake of worship. However, one day, a beautiful human male stumbled his way into the domain of your sacred spring, and without offering nor sacrifice to give you, you thought of another way in which he could pay you worship.

Witch!Shinobu x AFAB!Reader – October 17th @ 6pm PST

Your girlfriend usually spends all day cooped up in her cabin brewing potions and studying spells, and, of course, placing the occasional hex on someone she doesn’t particularly like. One day, when you decide to visit her place deep in the woods, she has come up with a rather…interesting potion recipe, and wishes for both of you to try it out together.

True Form!Sukuna x AFAB Sorcerer!Reader – October 21st @ 6pm PST

Having been one of the sorcerers of the Heian Era to attempt to eradicate the King of Curses from the face of the earth, you were the least bit surprised to find yourself awaiting death within Sukuna’s domain. What you didn’t expect was that the Disgraced One had other plans awaiting you, to which you selfishly conceded if it meant you were allowed to live yet another day.

Surtr!Kyojuro x AFAB Worshipper!Reader – October 24th @ 6pm PST

The legends stated that the mighty fire giant would one day bring about the beginnings of Ragnarök and engulf the world in flames. You had been told of these prophecies since childhood and were a firm believer in appeasing the proclaimed Ruler of Fire through worship and sacrifice – just as you had been taught by the village elders since you were a mere child. What you didn’t expect, however, was for the village to turn their back on you and suggest that a human sacrifice would be needed to appease the giant once and for all.

Trickster!Sanemi x AFAB Tricked Princess!Reader – October 28th @ 6pm PST

As the Princess of your kingdom, you have been a voice of authority for all of your royal subjects. In fact, you had grown quite accustomed to your way of living – it was comfortable, and you rather enjoyed having others serve you – believing it was your divine right to have such privileges. That is, until one day you started to notice acts of mischief occurring around the castle – and with no one stepping up to take responsibility, you decided to seek out this imposter yourself, not realizing that was what he had wanted all along.

Vampire!CEO!Nanami x AFAB Secretary!Reader – October 31st @ 6pm PST

As the new secretary for a company, you find yourself excited about getting hired for your first job ever! You never thought to question why the position you’d applied for had been listed as vacant once every few months, nor did you wonder why all of the previous secretaries were female – all you wanted was to impress your new boss with your amazing work ethic. However, as you continue your weeks working for him, you start to notice rather…odd habits, and the more you observe, the more it becomes difficult to ignore – and why was it that the usually stoic man would seemingly become friendlier with you at the beginning of your menstrual cycles?

If you'd like to be tagged in any of these fics, please comment under this post with which ones you'd like to be tagged in! You must be 18+ (with your age in your bio) if you wish to be tagged! No age no entry!

divider credit: @/benkeibear

[futurecorps3]

Hiii, could you write a nikokai fic where reader is like in love with kaz but he doesn't really pay attention to her. And then the crows meet sturmhond because of a heist and he takes interest in the reader form the first moment he sae her and makes her fall in love with him. And then whatever you want lol. Maybe kaz being jealous idk.

Sorry for any grammatical mistake, english it's not my first language.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞

Masterlist<3

Summary: After years of being in love with the one and only Kaz Brekker, breaking her own heart, Y/N meets someone else... Pairing: Sturmhond x fem!inferni!reader, Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Warnings: The usual crow violence, DRINKING, jealous Kaz, mean Kaz, "unrequited" love for a little while, Matthias is alive and well like in the books duh but this is ofc before Nikolai becomes king, idc I just want my Fjerdan hunk happy in Ketterdam, curse words, kind of a messy timeline. HURT AND NO COMFORT. Lmk if I missed any.

Word Count: 2.9K!! Requested: Yes

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I've been looking forward to getting to this specific request because oh my god, also, I changed it up a little; making Kaz actually be in love with reader but never really trying anything. Tysm for requesting love! Hope you enjoy :)

˚ · • . °

Exhaustion. That's what she felt, and to be honest, it was even more frustrating when Y/N knew she was doing it to herself. Those persistent yet futile attempts at reading Kaz's silence or gaze as something else; a love message, a confession of his sins, any sign of vulnerability reserved for her. However, these attempts, though fervent, ultimately proved fruitless.

How could she confirm what she thought she saw if, after, say, he appeared distressed at her being in danger or fumed when some dick was being extra disgusting at the bar that night; he went back to being his usual cold self?

When she finally obtained concrete evidence that disproved her misconceptions ("Jesper, she prefers black coffee" or "Y/N, could you join me in my office for a moment?" simply to spend time together in quietude), he strategically distanced himself throughout the week, transforming those precious moments of tranquility and companionship into ordinary occurrences, leading her to, somehow, misunderstand them.

Another shot of vodka and the pain her thoughts evoked was replaced by the burning, bitter sensation in her tongue and throat. "A hangover won't make Kaz let you stay behind tomorrow, you know that?" Matthias smiled next to her.

Since he joined the crows, the Fjerdan had taken a special liking to his girlfriend's best friend; she was funny, kind hearted and could keep up his pace in drinking games. Nina couldn't be happier to see her loves get along so well, saying it's her dream come true. "Oh don't even start, Matthias" Y/N answered, feigning annoyance as she poured more of the burning liquid into her glass and pulled out another for her friend.

They silently toasted to nothing in particular and chatted about their books as they usually did. Matthias' romance novel had an interesting love triangle Y/N was eager to read when he was finished. From how he talked about it, the girl knew it was just her type of story. They were in the middle of a playful argument about a plot-hole Y/N thought she found when Kaz approached them.

His usual demeanor seemed a bit... shaken. If you asked the blonde, he'd say he only looked more agitated, but Y/N/N knew better; his hair was covering his forehead slightly, but he wasn't brushing it back. The limp was prominent still, yet he wasn't using his cane. Kaz was in a rush to get to her, maybe?.

"One of your fellow countrymen is starting a turmoil outside, doesn't speak Kerch. Will you please, for the tree's sake, go and talk some sense into his thick blonde skull?" Saints, why did she like him so much? Even like that, Y/N thought he looked rather divine. Matthias stood up from his seat and directed himself to the entrance.

"Since when do you care for what happens outside that door?" She asked with a grin, genuinely curious. "I wouldn't if he wasn't scaring off the pigeons. No wealthy tourist will endure the trouble that some drunk Fjerdan means just to get inside a place full of people that'll take his money" the boy explained, looking down at her.

Kaz's complexion, kissed by the soft glow of the candles, is pale yet flawless, as if untouched by the harshness of the world he inhabits. His sharp, well-defined features give him an air of enigmatic sophistication, further heightened by the way the light dances upon his cheekbones, emphasizing their elegant structure.

Y/N realizes she's staring. She looks away.

The bastard smirks. "Finding something intriguing, are we?" And oh, she wanted to stab him to see if that would wipe the stupid grin he carried. "Oh, please, Kaz. You give yourself too much credit. I was merely lost in thought, contemplating the mysteries of the world. Your face happened to be in the line of sight, that's all."

Quick, sarcastic answer, as if the seconds between her silence confirmed even further what he was saying. He scoffed, drinking the remains of alcohol on Matthias' glass and fixed his hair in the process. "Stop drinking, a hangover won't spare you from our meeting tomorrow".

˚ · • . °

She should've listened. The crashing waves outside only intensified the discomfort, while the salty breeze seemed to carry a tinge of regret. Even the beauty of the sea she was now too used to felt distant and inaccessible, overshadowed by the haze of her post-indulgence remorse.

Nina, taunting Matthias with a mature Ravkan song and Jesper shooting bottles in the warehouse, created an uneasy atmosphere for hungover Y/N. This unsettling environment made it difficult for her to focus on evaluating any potential deals they were to discuss with the privateer Kaz said they were meeting that day. Also, they had been waiting for over an fifteen minutes now! She was surprised Kaz was waiting still.

He checked his pocket watch subtly, sighing at the tardiness of their Ravkan guests. Then, he looked over at Y/N. Even with those deep baggy eyes and with her head on her hands in exasperation, she managed to awaken that odd feeling in his chest. He hated it. No, he despised it.

If he ever accepted that he was down hard for the girl, he could also get over the fact that she, too, liked him. Well, he wasn't dumb! There was no denying that Y/N's actions warmed his heart. He just knew loving was a dangerous thing to do, a weakness he couldn't afford after spending years building a reputation in Ketterdam.

Then came a loud bang on the heave wooden doors of the warehouse. "Fucking finally" Y/N sighed, going to open the door herself before anyone would, wanting nothing but to end this as soon as possible so she could go back home to sleep. She grabbed the handle and pulled, the bright light outside blinding her momentarily before seeing the privateer and his crew.

"Hello gorgeous! Here to see Mr. Brekker. I'm guessing you're one of his associates?" A sharp, slightly deep voice greeted. The girl shielded her eyes from the light and found captain smily offering his hand out. In Ketterdam, rumours ran as quick as blood on pavement; Sturmhond knew that. He needed no introduction. Every person involved in not so legal activities who didn't live under a rock had heard at least once about the dog of the sea.

She took it, shaking gently. "Y/N Y/L/N, but if you prefer nicknames, call me Haepha". Then she stepped aside, pretending not to notice the smirk on Sturmhond's face so his partners could come in. The rumors hadn't done justice to his captivating presence.

The charismatic privateer stood tall, his dark hair falling in unruly waves that added to his allure. His piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a world of secrets, and a mischievous smile played across his lips. Dressed in opulent garments that exuded confidence and flair, Sturmhond commanded attention with every step as his crew and he approached the rest of the crows.

"I'll stick to your name for now doll, too pretty not to use," And the bastard winked at Y/N, making a Shu girl who was walking behind him with the same confidence giggle. The worst thing about pretty men is they know they're pretty, and knew damn well how to get away with being cocky. She knew his type, so she brushed the wink off and walked towards her friends.

Kaz and Sturmhond shook hands. Everyone who was fast enough grabbed a seat in old boxes or even on the floor. Jesper offered Y/N his seat, knowing that the vodka she drank last night was no merciful rival, and stood behind her alongside his boyfriend. Inej lingered sitting in a window near them as Matthias and Nina remained standing, contrary to all the privateers' team.

Kaz started making introductions, all a mere formality, Y/N knew. "You've met Y/N, our inferni. Behind him are Jesper, sharp-shooter, and Wylan, our demo-man. The blonde wall-resembling man over there is Matthias, and Nina is a heartrender. Inej in the window, our Wraith" he pointed, everyone nodding or waving at the dark-haired man.

"A Wraith alright, didn't notice you were there sweetheart!" He pointed out and then introduced the twins; Tolya and Tamar. As well as Anya and Andrei, who were two members of his ship's company who wanted to come by and see who they were working with. When that was taken care of, plans were strategized by both leaders and positions were given to each member.

Y/N knew Kaz was characterized by having plans from A to Z for very elaborate heists, but even this one seemed out of his reach, almost too ambitious. But if Sturmhond's name lived up to the myth, nothing was quite impossible for him and Kaz's love for money could get him to plot even the tiniest detail.

Their objective this time was to steal some kind of jewel called "the moon's tears". It was a gem said to be worth four million kruge, to be bargained for even more; the crows' biggest heist yet. The vault it was in was widely known for its impenetrable security measures, including seemingly impenetrable barriers, intricate lock mechanisms, and a team of highly skilled guards.

Those two were absolutely insane! Even before one considered the noble who owned the vault and therefore the gem they were trying to steal, knew Kaz from the past. It was an extremely peculiar coincidence that a masquerade ball was taking place some distance away from the location of the vault, which represented the perfect opportunity for the work.

This would allow them to exploit the lack of security and sweep the gem away. Nina would ideally take care of the distraction, to keep the nobleman from returning home too quick, but her heartrending abilities would be helpful to make a quick work to make the few officers guarding the vault doze off.

So it became Y/N's job. A job she was to complete with Sturmhond.

After the meeting ended and Y/N's headache had worsened, a deep voice was heard from behind her. She turned to find the charming privateer flashing a smile at her. "Looking forward to working with you, darling" He commented, offering his hand out and all. She took it and shook half-heartedly, eager to just go home and sleep for the rest of the evening.

"Me too, handsome" Irony laced in her tone. "Doesn't seem like it, you alright? You look like a ghost. Lovely, yes, but still ghostly" The comment made her smile, tightening the grasp on his hand but not shaking anymore "Just hungover s'all" "Told you so!" Jesper proclaimed from their side as everyone directed themselves to the door.

The privateer smiled sweetly. "Got any plans this evening?" "Other than rotting in my room until my body stops hurting? Not really. Why?" Y/N looked down briefly, realizing she still hadn't let go of his hand and then released her grasp "Well, if my days at sea have thought me anything other than how to read the stars..." he started, tapping the necklace with a star charm the girl sported.

A "gift" from Kaz (some jewelry that wasn't redeemed from a heist he let her keep). "...is how to cure a hangover. Mind coming with me to a bar? You can decide which". Going to a bar with a complete stranger who had a reputation of being in trouble most of the time and who she were to work with? Sure thing.

"Promise youll make it go away?" "Promise".

˚ · • . °

And what a plot twist he was. Jesper had jokingly said to the girl that she shouldn't take a privateer's word but he did termiante her hangover with some strange, black-ish liquid she didn't dare to ask the composition of. Then they drank more.

As the drinks arrived, they raised their glasses, the clink of crystal breaking the spell of their silent connection. Sturmhond smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "To new adventures and unexpected encounters," he proposed, his voice smooth and velvety.

Y/N couldn't help but return the smile, feeling the warmth of excitement spread through her veins. "To embracing the unknown," she replied, raising her glass in agreement. They took a sip, the flavors dancing on their tongues. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing the sounds of the bar to envelop them. After a moment, Sturmhond leaned in, his voice low and captivating.

"So, Y/N, what brings you to this lawless corner of the world?". He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. Y/N's eyes sparkled as she recounted her journey, the challenges she faced, and the dreams that fueled her determination. Sturmhond listened intently, his attention unwavering, as if she held the secrets of a hidden treasure.

As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but notice the genuine interest in Sturmhond's eyes. He asked thoughtful questions and shared stories of his own adventures, effortlessly weaving tales of daring escapades that left Y/N hanging on his every word.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless exchange of ideas, dreams, and aspirations. Time seemed to melt away as they delved into deeper discussions, finding solace in the connection they were building. Laughter intertwined with their words, a symphony of shared amusement and understanding.

They became lost in each other's company, entranced by the way their thoughts aligned and their hearts danced to the same rhythm. And as the night wore on, their conversation continued, their new found connection growing stronger with every passing moment.

She couldn't help but think of Kaz, when exiting the bar, and on the way back to The Slat. When would he ever, in a million years, make her feel so seen? How could he? He seemed to be nothing but cold and a bad type of confusing to the girl.

Y/N was not blind, either. Sturmhond was known for his endless romantic encounters with women across the sea, and he was interested in her. Now, she could not deny the guy was a charming boy too pretty for this Earth, sharp as a knife and, as she found out that evening, shared a lot of ideals and interests with her.

Could he maybe work as a rebound? Maybe. Would she shamelessly use him as that? Could be. Having his eyes on her that whole meeting was no coincidence, and she liked his attention. Maybe what mends a broken heart was a handsome privateer.

They agreed to meet up the next day, his treat.

˚ · • . °

Back at the Slat, Kaz was fuming. No, not fuming; seething. A bar outing? She just met him! He could not believe his eyes when they were talking hand in hand like they had known each other from a previous lifetime.

In the little time that had passed since (most of) the crows had returned from the meeting, Kaz had already gotten four drunks kicked out, death-stared a group of dregs twice so they'd shorten their break time to get them to work and downed four vodka shots.

Why was he this mad? She wasn't even his and as far as she knew; he had no intentions of being hers either. The boy couldn't be mad at her, but he was, and Kaz knew very well he was being a big selfish shit. He could not blame Y/N either; the bastard she had been crushing on gives no signs of interest but a privateer handsome as the devil shows up with his attention completely focused on her? Of course she'd fall.

He just hated that feeling.

It's presence looms, heavy and suffocating, wrapping its tendrils around the heart, constricting with an iron grip. It whispers sweet poison into the mind, distorting reality and fueling irrational fears. Like a tempestuous storm, it rages within, lightning crackling with envy, thunder rumbling with resentment. It paints the world in hues of green, tarnishing every joyous moment with a bitter aftertaste.

And then his heart sunk into the depths of his dark soul when he saw them walk in hand in hand. That was the first time Y/N had walked into a room and not looked for him, he noticed. She was laughing at something Sturmhond had said as they walked up the stairs until they reached the door of Y/N's room. He kissed her hand and she kissed his cheek.

The privateer then walked down the stairs, noticing Kaz staring.

"She's one of a kind, that one... Might stay a bit more after the job's done. See you tomorrow, Brekker"

The feeling was now leaving an empty, bottomless void in his soul. He bottomed his shot glass then poured another one.

˚ · • . °

Time kept ticking and the void intensified, but Kaz learnt how to deal with it.

He learnt how to deal with it when he kissed her after the job was done.

He learnt how to deal with it when Y/N took a break from the crows to leave with him for six months.

He learnt how to deal with it when she returned from her trip, beautiful tan skin and a diamond on her finger.

He learnt how to deal with it when he saw her crying herself to sleep because she missed him.

He learnt how to deal with it when she left for good.

He learnt how to deal with it when she was named queen of Ravka.

Kaz just learnt how to live with the shame and regret of not recognizing that the one thing he needed was right in front of him, hoping she'd have a place next to him.

˚ · • . ° .

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:) I'm actually sorry for this one...

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

[mhevarujta]

Sex in Saltburn

You know how this is a movie about men, filmed by a woman?

Well, this movie is somehow shamed for its sexual scenes and is seen as being provocative for the sake of it, but this is a very biased take.

1)Men are not judged for using bodies however they want in their movies. Fennell doesn't even do that. The majority of the scenes that have shocked so many are close ups to faces. The unhinged aspects of them -licking whatever Felix left in the bathtub, the vampire scene, the grave scene, the MotDF scene- are not hollow.

The bathtub scene shows the intensity of Oliver's desire and how it's consumated only through the house. The Vampire scene adds to Oliver's character: It demonstrates his ability to pick up information, to shift according to them and to be a perfect acolyte, giving people what he thinks they want.

The Grave scene and the Murder on the Dance Floor scene are the only two with ACTUAL nudity. In them, nudity is not about sex in itself. The Grave scene is about grief, raw and twisted and powerful. It evokes the scene of Heathcliff disturbing Cathy's grave to ensure that their souls will be reunited. But in Saltburn love is something very sexual/physical. Here too, just like in the bathtub scene, Oliver consumates with Saltburn itself what he'll never consumate with Felix. There is a fulfillment by touching and feeling the material as an extension of the person he desires, and it's to the estate that he displaces his obsession upon when Felix is gone.

Then, the dance is about triumph and confidence, about a post-coital joy through having exacted one's hatred upon its objects and through material possession as a substitute for the losses. But Oliver does not have EVERYTHING he wanted. He wanted people, he wanted Felix. He's a king but he has disposed of the subjects. It's all beautifully fulfilling and obviously hollow at the same time.

2) Oliver being good at sex is essential. The movie touches upon that when Farleigh says that Richard III would be good at sex because he's insecure and he'd put in all the work. Men like to think themselves as sex gods. This movie is different. Oliver is good at sex because he's an acolyte. He puts in the work and has learned to notice what people like and to give it to them, which is something he channels with his partners. On the other hand, acoording to Fennell, Felix was not good at sex or kissing because he never had to be. People fall at his feet and his privilege allows him to just have his fun and be sloppy. This idea that you have to be attentive, listen, notice and be interested in giving pleasure to be good at sex is not reserved for women, but it's certainly representative of their lense.

Fennell's female gaze is a good thing and more directors should be trying it. I hate how these scenes are used to reduce the movie when they only add to its appeal.

[mapofthesea]

defenseman!taehyung x social media manager!fem!reader

hockey!au

genre: fluff, slight angst, smut

summary: The home opener of hockey season is crazy for everyone, but when star defensemen Kim Taehyung takes a specific interest in you, who are you to turn him down? 

warnings: sports things, taehyung being a flirt but also very sweet, reader trying to convince herself that she isn't allowed to like him, very minor hockey related violence, swearing, small amount of alcohol consumption (no one gets drunk!), feelings admissions. Specific smut warnings: dom!tae, sub!reader, public sex, bathroom sex (they're alone in there), mirror sex, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (be better than them), begging, he comes on her back lol, some spit, praise, aftercare.

an: I am a whore for both hockey and bangtan, so here we are. As always this wasn’t proofread or edited so there might be typos! Also happy birthday Tae. love u so much king

The sound of fans funneling into the arena buzzes through the air, making you more than grateful for the direct feed of your coworkers’ voices in your ear. 

“Team intros start in 15, do we have time for some pre-game content before that, Y/N?” 

Your mind reels at the idea of subjecting yourself to the locker room so shortly before the game, but you’re nothing if not professional. The concrete halls echo with sound, the low bass of the pre-game playlist rumbling under the soles of your boots. The door to the locker room is open, allowing a direct view of the bustling bodies within it. You don’t bother to knock or warn them before you waltz in, team phone in hand, and get to work. A few players give you friendly nods while strapping pads on, but you’re largely ignored in favor of their own conversations. 

There’s no time to set up a mic, or ask them to answer any questions, so you settle on taking some simple footage of them getting dressed, enjoying their pre-game hype. Despite your college degree in marketing and plenty of training from the previous social media manager, you would be lying if you said you felt confident in interacting with this impressive team.

As a fan, you know that the season opener night is always bound to be loud, stressful, and busy; but you didn’t expect to feel quite so nervous. 

You open instagram, panning carefully around the fancy locker room to give the fans a look at everyone getting dressed, lacing up skates. Upon reviewing the footage you’re disappointed to see that it’s shaky, indicative of the nerves running through your veins. 

“Shit.” You mutter, deleting the footage and heaving a sigh at how quickly the time is ticking down. You were probably down to less than 10 minutes before they’re due on the ice. 

“Anything I can help you with?” A gentle, deep voice asks. Your heart stutters under your sweatshirt as you get the courage to turn. 

Looking down at you with his pretty, intimidating eyes is Kim Taehyung, star defenseman. The skates give him another few inches on his already towering frame, and you can only imagine how scary he would be skating towards you on the ice. 

You stare, mesmerized by how real he looks. A knowing smirk blooms on his face. 

“...anything I can help you with?” He asks again, a teasing lilt to his voice as he crinkles his nose in an endearingly boyish way. You mentally slap yourself for falling for his charm so quickly. This is your job, for gods sake. You have no business fantasizing about how handsome the players are.

“Uh-um yeah, I need to do a quick interview with you, is that okay?” You hate the way your voice shakes, and you’re not even sure how he heard you over the ruckus of the locker room.

“Sure,” he squares his shoulders, brushing some hairs off of his forehead. “Where do you want me?”

The lilt of his voice suggests he knows the heat that just shot to your face was because of him, but you decide to pretend he wasn’t making you feel hot under the collar. “Can you just sit on that bench, there?” He follows your orders without hesitation as you stand in front of him, framing the shot as best as you can. Aware of the low amount of time on the clock, you ask the first question that comes to mind.

“How are you feeling about tonight?”

Taehyung smirks, and you can feel your heart rate speed up as he makes eye contact with you instead of the camera. “Feeling like I’ll be getting lucky tonight. Chances of scoring are looking very good.” He flashes a toothy smile and you convince yourself the tremble in your knees was just because of the cold in the arena.

“Okay…what’s your favorite pre-game ritual?” He bites his lip, looking the epitome of fuck boy, before dissolving into a fit of giggles. “Uh…um..I guess, making sure to retape my stick before every game?” He sounds unsure but you don’t have time to press the issue, aware that the other players were lining up to have a final talk with their coach before heading out. You put the phone away and nod congenitally at him for his cooperation.

“Tae!” His teammates call for him, all dressed besides their helmets, to join them in the huddle. He hauls himself up, making no effort to avoiding bumping into you as he passes. His hand catches you around the waist and he leans down subtly. “I lied, by the way. My favorite pre game ritual isn’t retaping my stick... it’s a lot more fun than that.” His proximity makes you shiver, and the pointed way he looks at your lips all but sets you alight. “Well, you’re a smart girl. See you later, yeah?” He walks away briskly, leaving you breathless in his wake.

---

Pre season games had established the team at the top of the division already, but watching them in action, standing on the side by the boards and photography team, you feel electrified. As the end of the third period closes in, the arena is ablaze with the happy hum of fans observing a 5-2 win. 

You take a moment to check the team’s socials, seeing that the things you added to instagram did pretty god numbers, and that one of your media team members had cross uploaded the interview you did with Taehyung to TikTok. The amount of views and comments was stunning, and you couldn’t help but feel quite accomplished at such a quickly made video doing so well. The comments take a second to load, but the top one makes your cheeks flame. 

hockeygirl10: hes totally into whoever is interviewing him lol

Your mind reels as you see the rest of the comments are similar, and for a second you consider asking someone to delete the comments or take the video down altogether, but the amount of shares and views on the video makes your stomach tingle excitedly. Instead you decide to praise your media team for cross posting, knowing that making a viral clip the first night of the season will only make the whole season’s media better. 

The chat opens just as the pane of glass in front of you rattles viciously; making you jump as the photographer next to you snaps a series of pictures. You look up and immediately make eye contact with a smirking Taehyung, who had just ran an opposing player into the board right in front of you. Sweat drips down his cheeks and plasters his hair to his forehead but that somehow serves to make him look hotter, and if that wasn't enough, he smirks. You suddenly feel too hot in your sweatshirt despite the arena’s chilled temperature. The man Taehyung had boarded skates away, but he lingers for a few seconds. 

“Put that away!” He yells, and is gone just as you process what he said to you. Embarrassment floods your system as you realize he must have seen you glued to your phone instead of watching the game. You watch him skate away, and within seconds he’d regained the puck and was advancing on the net. The puck goes in smoothly; sliding right past the goalie before he even notices it. A buzzer sounds and the red light flashes, signaling the goal to the rowdy crowd. 

Taehyung is immediately surrounded by his teammates as they celebrate, and he takes his lap around the rink as the announcer details his goal to the audience. He stops in front of you again, pounding on the glass and giving you a charmingly boxy smile that makes your stomach flip. He’s gone in a flash, having to go back to the bench now that he’d done so much work. Your heart beats much faster than it should for the situation, but you can’t help but wonder if that goal had been for you.

---

The energy on the ice translates directly to the locker room after the game ends. The boys are yelling, clapping each other on the back and laughing as they lounge in more comfortable clothing. While alcohol is technically forbidden in the locker room, the coach and staff have all turned a blind eye on the account of such an amazing game, so a small table is crowded with cases of alcohol. You decide to join the spirit of the night and grab a White Claw with your co workers, celebrating both the game and the success of the media accounts. 

“Hey, Y/N, did you see how well that interview is doing on TikTok?” One of your new intern asks as you’re in between sips. The comments flash through your mind as you nod. 

“Yeah, I saw. Cross posting it really helped I think.” You meekly suggest.  “Fuck no, girl. It was the way he was looking at you. You have to be honest...” she leans in close, as if she were giving away an industry secret to you. “Are you fucking him?” Your heart leaps into your throat as you emphatically shake your head. 

“No! No, I’m professional and technically I work for him so that would be so weird...he’s just like, he’s handsome and charming and everything but he...It just feels so not allowed...so I’m ignoring it!” Her eyes widen at your outburst, and the way you ramble through your sentences makes you feel like she’s judging your stability, so you try to drive your point home. “I honestly think that Taehyung is the hottest man I’ve ever seen, and I wish I was fucking him, but I’m sure he doesn’t even like me like that so I’m gonna…pretend my feelings don’t exist.” You raise your can to her in a half hearted toast before downing the rest of it in one go.

It’s not nearly enough to even make you tipsy, but it felt so good that you immediately want another. Your intern’s face morphs into horror, and for a second you think that she’s just mortified to be working for you, but then you back up right into a hard body. 

“Hey, Y/N.”  Taehyung’s voice makes you recoil, but he gives you no time to recover before he spins on you and grabs your wrist in a gentle but firm grip. The simple touch alone ruins any arguments you may have had, and you allow him to weave you through a crowd and into the hallway. 

“Let’s go for a walk?” His voice is surprisingly light given the brisk pace he walks at but you follow, eager to see where this would head. He takes large, sure steps until you reach the empty concourse. The food stalls and beer stands are empty; lights halfway powered down since all of the patrons had long left. Taehyung leans casually against a walkway railing, admiring the view of the city from the tall windows at the front of the building. 

“Taehyung- I’m sorry if you heard any of that. It was super unprofessional of me, and-”

“Stop it, Y/N.” He cocks his head and examines you leaning on the bars next to him. “You know I’ve always thought you were the prettiest social media manager we’ve ever had? I remember the day we met you in the big conference room in the back.”

You remember the day too. It was only a few months ago but feels like ages at this point. Having passed the technical parts of the interview and successfully pitching your ideas for social media posts, the final part of the interview was simply for you to meet the players and make sure you all got along. After all, if they weren’t happy with how you presented them or their team, it would mean you being let go. Of course all of them were kind-they all knew what you were there for- but you remember that Taehyung was one of the only players who gave you a sincere handshake. As strictly business as it felt, getting a firm handshake as a woman in a sports organization dominated by men felt vindicating. 

“I remember too, Taehyung. And it was really nice of you to be so welcoming to me. And that’s part of why I feel so bad that I...” you wave your hands between your bodies wildly, “feel. I’m glad to move on like this didn’t happen, and I can assign someone else to do your stuff.”

Taehyung just stares, his pretty chocolate eyes turned up in amusement. “Y/N, I just called you pretty, and you're still worried you crossed a line? I think you’re fucking gorgeous. And smart, and talented. The only line you crossed is the one into my heart.”

You can't help the laugh that bursts forward at his cheesy line, and to your delight he joins in, shaking his messy mop of curls in the process. “So...about you finding me handsome and charming...” his hands curl around your hips, bringing you into his personal space. He smells like pine and beer, and your pussy throbs at the way his thumbs stroke your back. You place your hands on his chest, delighting in the hard plane of muscle there. 

“Hm, I do think those things. What are you gonna do about them?” All your past feelings of regret and doubt begin to evaporate as his face inches closer to yours, lips a millisecond from your own. You give him a subtle nod and his lips are on yours, wasting no time to shove his tongue into your mouth. Startled, you moan into him and wrap your hands around his neck. He maneuvers to press you against the hand railing easily without giving up the kiss, and a huff of a moan leaves his mouth as your bodies meld. The hot press of his body against your own leaves you panting, feeling so secured under his touch. 

“Taehyung, please,” you plead, leaning your forehead against his chest to take a deep shuttering breath. “Wanna feel you.” You whimper, afraid to be heard even though everyone left in the arena is very far away. Taehyung hums, petting the hair at the back of your head. 

“Can’t fuck you out here, baby. C’mon.” 

You follow him blindly again, driven by nothing but the roiling lust you’re feeling for him. He leads you into the closest bathroom, and despite the fact you know you likely won’t get caught, anxiety spikes through you. 

“Don’t look so scared, baby. Nobody's gonna find us, I promise.” His voice had somehow deepened since the last time he spoke, and it makes your insides melt. Taehyung recaptures your waist, guiding you back towards the ledge of the row of sinks. His fingers cup your chin, rubbing delicately underneath your bottom lip. Your heart stutters as you study the little moles on his face, the soft curls that flop over his eyebrows. 

“You’re so handsome.” The words spring forward before you can stop them, and Taehyung tips his head back to laugh. Eyes sparkling, he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“You’re so pretty. And cute,” he pinches your side playfully to make you squirm, pitching you forward into his body until you can feel how hard he is under his sweatpants. His eyes roll at the contact as you slide your hands under his shirt, thankful that he only had the one layer on. He makes short work of getting his shirt off and promptly buries his head in your neck. He nips at he flesh and you know its going to bruise, but that only makes you hotter between your legs. 

“Gonna make you mine, baby. Fuck that little pussy so good that you’ll never forget me, huh?” You keen under him, moaning out an affirmation as you let your hand travel over the smooth skin of his stomach. He shudders against you as your hand curls around the width of his cock through his sweatpants, teasing the head of his cock with your fingertip. It twitches under your touch and your mouth waters. 

“Lemme taste you, Taehyung.” You give him no time to protest as you sink to the tiled floor in front of him. Your panties stick to you uncomfortably as you move, but you ignore the feeling in favor of working his pants down his thick thighs. They come to you in all their tanned, muscled glory; and his impressive cock stands at attention. The head is flushed a pretty pink, the prominent vein along the bottom prompting you to stick your tongue out and taste him. 

Taehyung groans, hands falling to the crown of your head. “You gonna suck me off, or should I fuck your little throat?” His eyes are dark as they peer down at you, almost mirroring the intense look he gets on the ice. You press your thighs together at his words, but waste no more time to take him into your mouth. The stretch pushes your limits but you breathe through it, blinding through your tears as you sink him into your throat. Taehyung lets a constant stream of moans and curses free, fighting against his instinct to buck his hips into your mouth. 

Spit escapes from your mouth as you bob your head, soaking his cock and your chin in a thick sheen. You can feel your makeup running as tears brim your eyes, and the ache in your jaw is coming through more prominently; but the way that Taehyung’s cock twitches inside of your mouth is enough reason to keep going. 

“Fuck, if your throat is this fucking tight and hot, can’t imagine your pussy.” He’s practically purring as you grip at his thighs and swallow, determined to make him spill down your throat. His thighs shutter and he reels as if electrocuted, pulling out of your mouth. A long string of saliva connects your lips to the tip of his cock and you gasp. Taehyung bends to your height and loops his hands under your armpits. Before you know it, he has you bent over the sinks, staring at your wrecked reflection in the mirror. Your mascara is smeared, skin red from exertion. 

“Gotta get this stuff off of you, okay?” He helps you out of your top layers clumsily, throwing the garments aside in favor of groping your tits. Taehyung practically growls as he reaches around to unbutton your jeans and work them down your hips. You bow your head in embarrassment of your own reflection when he exposes your soaked through panties. He runs his fingers over your pussy, tutting as he feels the way you shiver. 

“So pretty in these ruined panties, baby.” He plans a kiss on your ass cheek before looping his fingers under the fabric and pulling it down to the ground with your jeans. He moans, immediately cupping your pussy with his calloused hand. Your head shoots up at the feeling, giving you a great view of the way he bites his lip in concentration as he teases a finger around your entrance. He meets your gaze through the mirror and smirks just the same way he had on the ice earlier. Your pussy flutters at the thought and he feels it, laughing evilly at the feeling. 

“Want your fingers.” You keen as he teases a single one at your entrance. “T-two of them, please” The request punches out of you but he easily obliges, slipping both fingers in for a slow but satisfying stretch. Your whole core clenches as you feel his digits fill you, but the stretch blossoms into pleasure as soon as he begins to move them, opening up your pussy for him. Your hands scrabble across the countertop in search of support and Taehyung huffs a laugh before offering you his free hand to clutch. You know he’s likely going to have bold red scratches all down his hand and arm tomorrow, but that’s truly an issue for later. Your center throbs, a warning of an oncoming orgasm, and you eyes instinctively clench shut.

Taehyung’s hand stills inside of you and you wail, scrabbling to turn around and figure out why he had stopped. The weight of his fingers inside you is enough to keep you on edge, but you’re desperate for him to finish the job.

“Why did you stop?” You whine, circling your hips back into his unmoving hand. A feeling of desperation begins to crawl up your throat as you hiccup a breath. “Please, I’ve been good.”

Taehyung tuts at your words and untangles his hand from your own before threading it through your mussed hair. “Look up,” he moves your head for you, “And keep those pretty eyes open so you can see just how sexy you look right now.” His fingers come to life inside you again the second that you lock your eyes on him through the mirror, and you struggle to keep them open. Your stomach churns with your incoming release, and you wiggle against his hold until the dam bursts. Your orgasm is sharp, causing a loud moan that doesn’t even sound like yourself to spring from your lips. Taehyung growls at the feeling, making sure his movements don’t slow as your body gets wracked with pleasure. When you’re finally back to consciousness, the first thing you feel is the weight of Taehyung’s cock twitching against your ass.

Despite just coming, you’re voracious for him and rock your hips back just to hear him moan. You mourn the sudden loss of his fingers, but lose all of the air in your lungs as soon as you catch his gaze in the mirror. His tanned chest heaves with exertion, sweaty just as you had seen him during the game, as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them, moaning to himself as he tastes you on his tongue.

Then, he bends and promptly spits on you, watching the glob travel between your ass cheeks until it finally reaches your pussy. “What a pretty little thing,” he praises as he spreads the spit around your sensitive lips. Your words have abandoned you, so you simply hum as you keep your eyes on the mirror, enjoying the view of his body in all its glory.

He catches you staring and indulges you, stepping to the side so you can get a clear view as he strokes his cock in earnest. Your chest heaves with anticipation, nipples peaked and sensitive against the cold countertop.

“Think I should put it in, sweetheart? Need my big cock inside you?” He sounds like he couldn’t care less what you choose, but the bright red color of his tip says otherwise. Nevertheless, you decide to indulge his question.

“Yes, Taehyung! Please put it in me, I’ve been waiting all night for you…” you watch his gaze darken in real time, and you guess he must have been able to sense the truth in your words. You really had been thinking of this all night.

“Fuck, Y/N. Me too, I never thought I’d get you like this.” He cages you in from behind again, this time wasting no time to tease his cock against your entrance. His hips stutter forward and his face morphs into something close to pain- your heart shoots out of your chest at the pained groan he lets out.

“I don’ have a condom, I’m so sorry.” He sounds so defeated that your heart cracks a little and you stand up, turning to face him. He looks every ounce of innocent he could with his bottom lip pouted out as you cup his face in your hands. You can’t resist placing a little kiss on his nose.

“I’m on the pill.” You whisper the magic words just loud enough that he can hear, and his face brightens like a kid on Christmas.

“Seriously? You’re the best, fuck,” he smashes his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss, uncaring that your teeth are clacking together. “I promise I’ll still pull out, just in case, baby.” You nod dumbly, just happy to be under the influence of his affection.

“Alright, let me see that pussy,” he slaps at your ass playfully and you can help but shake your head at the way his attitude shifts so rapidly. His newfound confidence shows as he places a hand against your lower back before pushing inside of you. You keen as he stretches your walls, the pulsing feeling of your muscles moving around him becoming addicting already.

He shares the sentiment with a deep moan, head lulling backwards as he gives you an experimental thrust that sends your upper body rocking against the countertop. The more confident he becomes, the more his hands roam your body. One hand settles comfortably on your clit; tracing delicate circles on the edge of it while he works into your pussy. His other hand rests on your shoulder, the grip firm enough to keep you in place as you writhe in pleasure.

“T-taehyung,” you gasp his name more times than you can keep track of, biting into your lip so hard you taste blood. Every time you make eye contact through the mirror he goes harder, as if he had something to prove.

“Look at you, baby. All fucking mine, huh? You like being my girl?” The thought makes your head spin so you nod and are instantly rewarded with harder circles on your clit. Your back arches at the pleasure and Taehyung grunts, adding a second finger to strum over you.

“Gonna cum,” you warn, voice thin and raspy as your vision blurs. Clearly encouraged, he angles his hips just right and mutters a filthy string of praise, sending you over the edge. You come in a prolonged wave that you feel all the way from your toes to your scalp, a shockwave of pleasure that numbs you to the world in the best was possible. Taehyung’s deep groans cut through it all, and you’re actually kind of impressed with his self control as he pulls out of you and you feel his hot cum all over your back seconds later.

You’re already feeling grounded by the time his breathing settles, but the fear of dripping cum onto the floor keeps you bent over the sinks. Luckily he catches on fast and wipes you up with a paper towel.

“Romantic,” you giggle as he throws the paper towel away and immediately goes to wash his hands. He grins that smile that makes his nose wrinkle and captures you in a hug. It feels weird to already be this intimate with him, but the way he radiates comfort makes you sag under his touch.

“Sleepy now,” you mumble, letting his gentle hands caress your back. He nods and pets your sweaty hair back down.

“Let’s get you dressed and off to home, okay?” You press another kiss to his nose before you part.

[skipppppy]

CARMEN SANDIEGO CHARACTERS + MOVIES

Boo I felt like making headcanons again bc I spend more time wondering what these assholes do in their free time than I do on my job

CARMEN

Didn’t have access to movies growing up so Player, Zack, and Ivy have been catching her up on the most popular ones

HORRIBLE to watch with. Doesn’t really understand “suspension of disbelief” as a concept and will ask stupid questions the whole time. Player almost ended their friendship because she nitpicked Lord of the Rings for being “unrealistic”

Enjoys low stakes 2000s girl chick flicks like mean girls and legally blonde. She has enough stress in her life man she just wants to relax

HATES heist movies because of how innacurate they are. Team Red has taken to watching them JUST to hear her pick them apart

PLAYER

Sci-fi/fantasy junkie. Anything and everything that has aliens/magic and shitty practical effects from the 80’s/90’s he is all over

Has never said a single kind thing about the Star Wars franchise in his life. They are his favourite movies of all time

ADORES Edgar Wright and has slowly been converting Team Red to his movies. Zack loved Baby Driver. Ivy loved Shaun of the Dead. Shadowsan loved Hot Fuzz. He considers Scott Pilgrim the pinnacle of Canadian cinema

Cannot STAND the amount of remakes happening in Hollywood recently

ZACK

Canon enjoyer of blockbuster action movies. Everyone dreads the nights when he gets to choose a film bc his taste is so generic

Does not know what the Snyder cut is. Thank god

His only redeeming quality is a love of early dreamworks. Will not stop quoting Madnagascar

Has seen every Marvel movie and thinks all of them are good. Player has BEGGED him to watch better movies but he won’t. He’s the type to rag on Scorsese for being “boring”

Has seen Kevin Feige’s extended filmography. Does not know who that man is

IVY

Horror fanatic

Banned from choosing movies for film night after convincing them to watch her “favourite lesbian romcom” with her. That lesbian romcom was Saw

Ellen Ripley was not only her personal hero but also her gay awakening. The Xenomorph queen was her second gay awakening

Also loves period dramas. Enjoys the tiddies and knows she would look SO good in those fancy waistcoats the men wear

Watches old slashers with Carmen and laugh whenever someone dies in a stupid way

SHADOWSAN

Faculty considered movies “low brow” entertainment so he hasn’t seen a movie made before the year 2000

Loves a good mob flick. Got into Scorsese specifically because Zack hated him. Goodfellas is his favourite

Everyone assumes he enjoys samurai movies but he actually HATES them. Hideo would ramble about historical inaccuracies the whole way through and he’s still bored just thinking about it

Used to love Yakuza films back in the day but they were soured for him after actually living as one

Loved Knives Out, found Daniel Craig VERY attractive, and has since fallen down the James Bond rabbit hole

CHASE

The most pretentious film hack you’ve ever met in your life. He is taking you to a back alley screening of some arthouse eastern european gay porn on a first date and it will be the most profound thing you’ve ever seen in your life

Detective noir movies and cheesy black and white romances are his favourites. He likes falling asleep to them

He and Player both appreciate animation as a form of cinema, but while Player is referring to like. the Mario movie, Chase is talking about some 3 minute Russian stopmotion surrealist piece from 1951. He attends Annecy every year and has been banned from the Oscars due to threats of violence

He likes Poirot tho. Transmasc king

JULIA

If she has a few hours to herself she’d rather watch a documentary than go to a movie theatre, but she loves historical dramas

Enjoys biopics but thinks it’s stupid to make them for people who are alive

Likes watching movies for the sake of trash talking them, so she is the only person who can tolerate sitting through one with Carmen

LOVES Wes Anderson though. Chase got her into his stuff and the symmetry scratches an itch in her brain. But don’t tell him that

Also enjoys period dramas for the tiddies

CHIEF

Shitty cop movie enjoyer. The kind of person who insists that Die Hard is her favourite christmas movie

LOVES heist movies because of how inaccurate they are. Will mentally nitpick whatever secret service is going after them and be like “ACME wouldn’t do that lol”

She’s semi aware that she’s the antoagonist in Carmen’s own heist narrative so she’s started having fun with it

Closet lover of b-tier comedy movies. Like the ones with Adam Sandler and Kevin Hart on the cover

Does not enjoy watching movies socially. That is quality time for her and her cat. She does not have to shush Commander

[scekrex]

How about one-sided Adamsapple with Lucifer basically pulling Adam's pigtails, negging every chance he gets. Eventually Adam got fed up and saying he's seeing someone else, and when he is asked who cue new sinner!reader falling directly into his arms and Adam point blank ask him out in front of everyone

I'm such a sucker for one-sided adamsapple like oh my fucking god they'd make such a good fucking couple but I feel like Adam would never commit to Lucifer

The sour taste of unrequited love

pairing: one-sided adamsapple/Adam x male!reader

warnings: language & hurt

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

Ever since his arrival at the hotel, Lucifer had been following Adam around constantly. And it wasn’t even to keep an eye on the reborn sinner, no, it was to annoy every cell of Adam’s new formed body and get a raise out of him. And the brunette was fed up with the king’s behavior.

It had not taken the first man long to figure out that annoying him was Lucifer’s way of flirting and while Adam was aware that he was attractive - he still had his hot looking body and his damn handsome face after all - he was not interested in hooking up with the devil, and dating the blonde was something the brunette had sworn himself to never to again after God’s former favorite had left him within a heartbeat for Lilith back in Eden. He was stupid enough to fuck around and find out, not to make the same horrible mistake twice.

Today however, seemed to be even worse than usual. Adam was minding his business, he hung out at the bar with you by his side and Husk and Angel - the pornstar and the first man got along surprisingly well, they had a similar sense of humor that had caused them to bond in the first place. That was until a certain blonde, short king came to join your little party. Instead of taking a seat, he pulled on the horns that had grown out of Adam’s head. They looked similar to the ones that had been on Adam’s mask, instead of golden, the tips were a rich purple color though. The brunette was pulled backwards and almost fell from the stool he was sitting on as the devil got on his tiptoes and whispered in Adam’s ear, “Getting drunk huh?” The first man was quick to pull away from Lucifer’s touch. He had not only grown to dislike the devil’s touch, he had learned to purely hate it with his entire heart. And not only the blonde’s touch, but Lucifer's entire presence. “Get the fuck away from me you fucking cunt,” the taller male growled in discomfort and sat up straight again the moment Lucifer let go of him, Angel and Husk shot each other a very obvious look that was ignored by the rest of the group. You watched the situation with an raised eyebrow.

“I fucking know that I look fuckable, but for Christ’s sake, stop fucking touching me,” the brunette had turned around to properly look down at Lucifer, the smaller man looked up at Adam, not even blinking as the clearly angered man continued to speak, “Stop fucking invading my personal space when I’m seeing someone.” That made the devil visibly gulp.

You had just downed another shot as you fell sideways, with your face you landed on Adam’s lap and your arms wrapped around his upper body as you tried to pull yourself closer to the taller man. The anger that had been burning in Adam’s now black eyes disappeared within seconds as he looked down on you. He gently grabbed your body and pulled you closer so that you were seated in his lap now, your head was steadied by his hand as it rested against his shoulder. Alcohol had always made you feel tired, it was no surprise to anyone that you were literally about to fall asleep in Adam’s arms. What was surprising, was that Adam was holding you like you were the most precious thing in his entire after life instead of shoving you off of him like he had done to Lucifer in the past.

Something inside of Lucifer shattered at the sight of you and Adam, he cared about you, even would go as far as to say he liked you and of course he only wished you the best, but you in Adam’s arms did not go well with the feelings he himself held in his heart. Yet he was not able to tear his eyes away from the two of you, not when Adam’s usually grumpy facial features seemed so soft as he watched you, not when the way Adam steadied the back of your head looked so natural. You had gotten what Lucifer had desired ever since he had left Adam, ever since Lilith’s creation. Was Lucifer mad at you? The devil truly could not tell, his emotions were an unsteady mess, he wanted to yell at you, to insult you, to tear you apart and kill you over and over again until Adam would stop caring for you. And at the same time the king wanted to hide away again - he wanted to lock himself in his castle and never come out again, wanted to drown in his sadness and tears, wanted to choke and suffocate on his feelings - feelings he should not have acted on.

Charlie and Vaggie had just entered the hotel, Alastor following behind the couple as Adam pulled you from his shoulder to properly look at you, “Hey little shit,” he grinned at you softly as you smiled back. Your hands were on his face quickly, cupping his jaw like you were about to kiss him, but despite being drunk you were aware that you two had not reached that point yet. “What would your sexy ass say if I were to ask you out on a fucking date?” The tiredness left your body at that question and suddenly you were not only awake, but you also felt pretty sober. “Depends,” you grinned, the brunette knew that you were to agree to his request to go out with him, you were just fucking around. “Are you going to pay?” That made Adam chuckle, “We’ll fucking see.”

Lucifer’s expression dropped entirely, he was quick to disappear from the situation, he had seen and heard enough, there was no reason for the king to stay so he returned to his own room and locked the door from the inside. Charlie on the other side - who had just overheard the conversation - was cheering, she was quite happy for the both of you. “Ya fucking owe me five bucks,” Angel grinned at the winged cat behind the bar, Husk only grumbled, yet there was a smile on his face.

[shadowqueenjude]

Who pulls the most bitches?

So I saw someone do something like this and I kind of wanted to do my own version with sjm characters. They get no bitches (besides that one girl who's a sucker for losers): Tamlin, Hunt, Ithan, Declan (only bc he's gay not for lack of game; he pulls ALL the men), Tarquin They get more than none but less bitches than you'd expect: Fenrys (bc he's with Maeve, poor boyo), Tharion (bc he's stuck with the river queen's daughter, oof), Aedion, Mor (because she has to hide her sexuality, rip) Now let's rank the remaining: Rhysand: for the supposedly most powerful fae guy to ever exist, he gets a surprisingly low amount of bitches. Perhaps it is due to his creepy evil reputation and the hatred for him within his own court: turns out a pretty face a male does NOT make. Even gold-diggers have standards! Cassian: I turned this over in my mind many times, but I realized Cassian pulls less bitches than Azriel after the line "I don't need to resort to poetry." He gets plenty of bitches because he's a bigass dude with muscles, but his shitty poetry is a turn-off to most eligible ladies. Azriel: he doesn't need to resort to poetry; he's a pretty boy with a cut body, but points have to be deducted for lack of game and pining over Mor for 500 years and being obsessed with having a mate (yuck). Dorian Havilliard: Come on, guys! He's a hot prince! Of course, he gets all the bitches. He's a little immature but he grows out of it! I mean he pulled the fucking man-eater, for God's sake. Points deducted for falling for Celaena wayyyy too fast (and getting rejected) and for his healer girl getting decapitated (rip Sorscha). Rowan: we KNOW this guy gets aaaaaaaalllll the bitches. Come on, he's Rowan-rutting-Whitethorn! Points were deducted for the whole Lyria thing AND serving Maeve for so long. Lorcan Salvaterre: He gets even more bitches than Rowan because... "Battles, riches, females- Lorcan always won, at any cost." And it's even said Rowan often allowed him to win. So yeah, he pulls a lot of bitches and participates in crazy orgies with his homie Rowan. Points deducted for being Stockholmed by Maeve (poor Lolo). Ruhn Danaan: I mean we already know the man's got game (evidence: CC2 chapter 3 plus all ruhnlidia chapters). He's also a young (by Fae standards) prince who lives in a fucking frat-boy house. And that sad-boy thing he's got going on? Girls love that. Eat it up. All the bitches wanna sit on him to take away his sorrow. Points deducted for crushing on a lesbian (oops). Tristan Flynn: Man gets even more bitches than Ruhn because he's just hornier and he's obsessed with his hair. Also, did you see the fire sprites becoming his cheerleaders? King shit. Points deducted for failing to rizz up Ariadne. Eris Vanserra: Come on, he's an Autumn Court male. Plus he's a Vanserra! It's practically in his blood! Points deducted for being rejected by Mor and Nesta tho. Chaol Westfall: Man gets a shockingly high number of bitches despite being a human character who until Dorian became king had a pretty lowly position. I mean, there was a literal PRINCE and his cousin hanging out and the girls were all drooling over Chaol. When he had a disability (which unfortunately due to prejudices that exist, often make you "undesirable" in the eyes of many) and he rizzed all those women, including Yrene, harder than Kashin. EVERY. GIRL. CHOSE. CHAOL. OVER. A. LITERAL. PRINCE. Both in Adarlan AND the southern continent. You're telling me he doesn't have the rizz??? A half a point deducted for being too hung up over Celaena (I don't blame him but still). But still, he pulls sooooo many bitches. Lucien (Vanserra? Spell-Cleaver? Cunt-Server?): Come on. Is there anyone else fitting to be number 1???? Man's got EVERYTHING Chaol has, PLUS he's the son of a High Lord and he's got that Vanserra rizz. Fuck it, he wouldn't stop at bitches. He'll pull every mfer to ever exist. If it breathes, it's into Lucien Vanserra. He is THAT guy.

[beautifulfuckup99]

Arranged marriage where reader is in love with him but he didnt have feelings for her. Reader tries to make him fall in love with her but it never worked. Then something happens and he gets head over heels for reader. Smutty of course

Could be yoongi or JK or V

You know what? Taehyung barely gets love on this page. This is a V Smut!

Title: Why Can't You Be Mine?

Warning(s): One sided love for a bit, Enemies to Lovers, SMUT!, Angry S!X.

Author's Note: Enjoy...

*****************************

"Please, enjoy the rest of the banquet." Taehyung says, voice as smooth and soft as his skin that glowed effortlessly thanks to the royal suit he was stuck into by your parents, the king and queen. Your eyes roamed his body like it was second nature for your brain. You couldn't help it...

Your sweaty hands smooth out your silk white dress you'd changed into after the wedding ceremony. This, the man standing next to you, was your husband. How flattering, right? The man not giving you a second glance, not even trying to make it look like he was joyful about today. Yes, he was now your husband. For the sake of the Kim Dynasty Kingdom and your kingdom, the Fye Kingdom, you agreed to join the two.

"At least hold my hand." You finally whisper. You two were at the front door of the castle, greeting guests together after the garden wedding earlier this morning. Taehyung gives you a side glance.

"Why? I need both hands to greet guests." He says as you frown and grab his hand, making him sigh heavily.

"I'm sorry, your majesty, I didn't know my skin burned your royal hand." You whisper and he stays silent. God, why did you find him so... Perfect? He was terrible suiter, but he'd make a wonderful king. You knew that for sure. You'd heard all about his ideas to better his people's lives...

"Why must you always be sarcastic?" He mutters finally and you can't help but put on a fake smirk.

"What? I find it charming." You state and he looks you in the eyes. There's a second. One second... Where... There! There it is. His eyes soften for that one second, and it makes your heart flutter, only to have him look away, as if annoyed by you. You hum softly.

"If we're going to share a bed, you need to try and look at me for longer than a second." You say and he scoffs.

"We will not share a bed." He states shortly and you pause.

"Wha-" He cuts you off as he spots Sargent Yoongi of the Daegu military.

"Sargent!" He calls. "Greet our guests, will you." He says before leaving you alone, walking towards Yoongi as he tries to escape. You frown a bit before letting it go.

************************************************

On the first day of you two officially being married, you bring breakfast to his room out of good spirits. Even though he made it clear he wanted you two in different rooms, you still wanted to show you could be a good partner.

Walking in with the tray of food, you find him already awake and just looking out the window. "Morning." You say gently as he turns to you, eyes narrowing at the tray in your grasp.

"Not hungry." He states, not returning your greeting. You shift a bit at his already cold demeanor.

"You're welcome." You mutter with a small eye roll that he quickens a brow at.

"Why are you here?" He asks as he crosses his arms.

"Well, if I couldn't fall asleep next to my husband, at least let me wake him with food." You state as he scoffs softly at the request.

"As stated, Y/N, not hungry." He says before walking past you to the bathroom. You take a deep breath to calm yourself down.

"But if I chuck this tray at his head, I'm wrong..." You mutter to yourself.

"What was that?" Taehyung asks from the bathroom.

"Nothing." You say before walking out of his room.

***************************************

The day is spent with Taehyung far away from you. He's off to meetings without you because, according to the message he'd left with the castle guards, you didn't have to "concern yourself" with any kingdom issues. It made you blood boil...

You busy yourself with volunteering around the village. Which is hard to do with guards following you, but you manage to keep a smile on your face. Your heart was hurt all day though. How could he be so damn cold to you? What had you truly done to piss him off?

That night, you're informed you'll be having dinner alone. "Prince Taehyung is in his study. Says he'll be too busy. My apologies, princess." The guard says. You hum.

"Don't apologize." You assure quietly before walking off to the dining hall. You wait for your food and when it's placed in front of you, you get up and grab it. You walk to the study and find Taehyung sat at the desk, head in his hands as if tired by something. Possibly the paper in front of him.

"I did not tell you to enter." Taehyung says before looking up and seeing you. "No. No, didn't the guard tell you? I need to be alone. You may eat dinner by yourself." He says sternly.

"I may? How nice of you to give me permission." You say bitterly before sitting in the chair in front of his desk and setting the plate down on his papers.

"Y/N! I-" You cut him off.

"I don't feel like eating away from my husband. You've been avoiding me all day long. And I will not eat dinner alone too. So, we can sit here until nightfall, or we can eat, and you can tell me what's giving you white hairs." You say shortly as you lean back and wait.

He eyes you before sighing, as if knowing he won't win this. 'Smart boy...' You think. You slowly lean forward as he begins to speak, voice coming out dry as if he's been exhausted all day.

"Next week... We will officially be crowned the rulers of this kingdom. We will officially unite both your people and mine." He says. You nod as you grab the fork to poke the food a bit.

"And?" You ask, eyes staying on the plate in front of you. "That is why we did this. Is it not?" You question gently and he pauses at your comment before he scoffs breathily and then shakes his head, as if annoyed.

"Never mind. I... It's just hard. My parents are no longer here." He says softly. You look down. You were only here because this kingdom needed Taehyung to step up and become a king. And every king needs a queen. Don't they? That's what your mother had told you as you grew up, but with how Taehyung was acting... Was that even true?

"I'm so sorry." You say gently as you look up to meet his eyes. God, those eyes were like ones from a viper snake. He'd wrap around you and suffocate you if he had the chance, but if those eyes were the last thing you saw... It'd be worth the death. Maybe.

"Yeah." Is all he sighs and you sheepishly hold the forkful of food in front of him, watching as he slowly eyes the fork and then moves away.

"I have to read." He mutters, shutting down again, much to your dismay.

'So close.' You think before shoving food into your mouth.

********************ONE WEEK LATER********************

"Let. Me. Go! Let me go!" You shout in pure anger as the guards basically carry you into Taehyung's study. He stops his pacing to watch you struggle.

"Put her down!" Taehyung says, voice loud and sharp. It even makes you pause. The guards are just as stunned. Taehyung was never one to raise his voice to anyone about anything.

But this wasn't just 'anything'. No. You knew why he was mad. You'd lost track of time at the village library and had missed the official crowning. Of course, the one-time Taehyung expects SOMETHING from you, you lose track of time.

"Out." He orders, eyes darkening as he watches you fix your dress. The guards are fast to bow and obey, leaving the room and shutting the heavy door behind them. You force in a deep breath.

"They didn't have to snatch me and drag me all the way here. I am their queen." You state, knowing they only did that because they were more than likely ordered to do so by Taehyung.

"You snuck away." He says lowly. "The guards are there to keep you safe-" You cut him off.

"I am more than capable of protecting myself. And they knew that. I didn't sneak away. I told them to hold back." You correct as you glare at him. How dare his perfect face be morphed into a stern frown at you!

"You don't order that! I do! I order that!" He snaps and it takes you aback before you finally let your tongue loose from between your teeth.

"I am your queen! And you will speak to me as such! You will not talk to me like I'm a servant here!" You snap back and he clenches his jaw.

"I told them to stay back so I can have a break! Lord knows I've earned one, being your damn lamb all the time." You say.

"My lamb?!" He asks in shock.

"Don't use that tone with me. Yes, your lamb! Following you everywhere you go in hopes of making this marriage work." You say angrily. He opens his mouth, but you're on a roll now. "Tell me something, your majesty," You begin, voice dripping with venom at the word 'majesty'. "Why did you marry me? Hm? For the throne? If that's the case, then why the hell does it matter where I was?!" You rant on until you're brought back by a loud slam.

The sound makes you gasp, unable to believe that it had come from Taehyung hitting the desk behind him.

"You think I'm that shallow?!" He snaps. "Do not ever question my intentions." He says as he looks you dead on. "You informed the guards you'd be at the shops and you were not found when it was time to come back. You had snuck off to the library instead. You... I need to know where you are!" He says as he walks closer to you, making you shrink back only slightly.

"Please. As if you truly care..." You growl and he eyes you with a fire in his eyes before grabbing you hard. He yanks you towards him and he's so strong that you practically fall into his chest. You gasp and raise your hand, blind in your anger. You weren't as angry at him as you were at yourself, feeling your heart race from being this close to him. It wasn't fair!

As you swing your hand back to slap him away from you, his hands grab your face. In an instant, you feel his lips crash into yours. You're in a moment of shock. This is the first time he's kissed you since your wedding. All these days avoiding you, and yet here he was. Kissing you as if he'd been starved of you...

You slowly begin to kiss back when you feel him pull away only by an inch or so, so he could bit your bottom lip. It makes you shiver and he's quick to pick you up and place you on his desk.

"Tae-" He cuts you off.

"Shut. Don't talk." He pants before kissing you just as intensely as the last. You return the gesture as his hands roam under your dress. You feel your cheeks heat up in this moment.

This is everything you’ve ever fantasized about and here it was…

You pull back from his lips as he grips your ass firmly, making you gasp a bit at the feel of his nails digging into your soft skin. His lips move against yours as he grinds against you until he realizes you’re not kissing back, too busy panting at the attention…

He trails his lips down your neck and to the tops of your breasts, biting along your skin as you lay fully back on the hard oak desk.

“Tae…” You pant, eyes shut as his hand moves lower down your body and under your dress, yanking your underwear down.

“I said no talking. I married you for the throne, right?” He whispers against your open mouth before pulling his hands back. Your underwear is in his grasp and before you can say anything, it's put in your mouth. You glare at him but the expression melts away at the feel of his fingers working over your wet slot, brushing along your clit as if you were one of his precious paintings you’d watch him work on in the garden.

Your head rolls back off the desk as you get lost in this pleasure, his slender fingers entering you slowly and when you pick your head up to watch him, you see him already looking at you with intense and dark eyes, slightly covered by his shaggy black hair. “Look at me. Look at me...” He pants as he finger fucks you faster.

You whine loudly. It’s muffled by the underwear in your mouth as he watches you with a smirk that begins to irk you to the core. You force yourself to sit up and grab his shoulders as your legs tighten around him. He smirks wider at that as you take out the underwear from your mouth. “I need more.” You whisper as you grab his chin, moving his head to face downward to hint at what you needed.

“And if I don’t?” He challenges, but you see on his face that it’s tempting.

“You will.” You state as you spread your legs more. He groans softly at that. He picks up your gown to bunch at your hips and slowly kneels in front of you, making you shiver at the sight.

“Worship your queen…” You pant as you place both hands on the desk to lean on them. You watch him start to tongue at your clit while his fingers glide in and out of you. You moan softly as you roll your hips at the attention. You weren’t going to last long, you already felt it building…

And just when you're on the edge...

He stops.

"Tae-" He cuts you off.

"You'll cum with me." He whispers in your ear as you shiver at the edge in his voice.

"Make. Me." You growl softly and he takes that challenge happily.

He kisses you deeply and you melt against his lips. "My pain..." He mumbles against your lips as he undoes his buckle, making you giggle.

"My pain..." You return softly as he slowly rubs his tip against your wet slot, making you pant hard.

"I love you..." He whispers, and before you can even react, he slides into you.

********************FOUR YEARS LATER********************

"Mommy? Mommy?" You little girl asks gently as you blink yourself back into reality, now sat in the garden on a beautiful Spring Day. Enjoying a much-needed picnic.

"Hm? What... What was the question again?" You ask gently as Taehyung smirks knowingly at you.

"I said..." The four-year-old looks down at her doll, getting distracted by the toy's beautifully curled hair for a moment. "I said when did you and daddy fall in love?" She repeats as she looks up at you.

Taehyung chuckles softly as you blink a bit. "Eh... When he and I got married." You say slowly.

"Oh, come on, Y/N." Taehyung says gently as he waves his hand at your answer. You raise an eyebrow at his statement. "I loved you even before the wedding." He says gently. You pause at that and open your mouth, but he keeps talking.

"I didn't say it then. But your daddy," Taehyung pulls your little girl on to his lap as you slowly cross your arms to watch him. "When grandma and grandpa passed... Our people looked to me to lead. But... I couldn't do that alone. It... It scared daddy. He didn't want to mess up, you know..." He says to your daughter, and she chuckles softly.

"You were scared?" She asks as if not believing it.

"Oh yeah! Big time. But... I had to step up. So... I decided... To marry the strongest princess I knew of. Someone smart and kind and who could handle someone like me. I sent for your mommy." He says and you freeze, never knowing that. You always thought your royal advisor had set this whole thing up with his. "And she came the second she got the proposal. But... See, your daddy thought... Your mommy wasn't... Into him. He overheard her talking to a royal advisor one day and saying that this marriage would be good for the people. It made daddy think mommy was forced into this. So..." Taehyung looks at you.

"Admittedly..." He says sheepishly. "Daddy acted mean towards mommy." He says and you hum softly as your heart beats a bit faster now with that new confession.

"But you love each other now!" Your daughter Lily says with a bright smile and you eye your husband as he gives you a shy smile.

"Sometimes..." You joke as you look at your husband with love in your eyes.

*******************************************

Hope you liked it!!