#been explicitly told not to say i suck
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look-at-the-stars-tonight · 2 years ago
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today was such a so-so day. 
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fardf150 · 4 months ago
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fuck
#like idk i never realized just how bad she hurt me. i didnt even rly realize she hurt me at all#bc there are so so so many ways she sldve reacted so much worse. but like i never thought someone cld just straight up ignore it.#like i get the way i told her was dumb and confusing. ok. i can understand that. whatever#but idk. she said she wished my sister had told her years earlier so that she cldve helped her back then#but then suddenly it's different when it's me. suddenly it's 'but youve always been my little girl' and 'oh i dont know that sounds dangerou#s' and 'are you sure?' and 'how long have you felt like this'#well it's been almost 5 fucking years now and it hasnt changed. i havent changed. fuck#i trusted her. i trusted her to be there for me and to support me and to accept me and she threw it back in my face and never even blinked#i can never ever trust her again and she doesnt care. she doesnt even know bc shes so wrapped up in all the fucking lies she tells herself#fuck. she did everything wrong. fuck. i can never fully trust anyone with this part of me again bc of her#and it's awful bc it's such an important part of me. it brings me so much joy and i think on it often and i love myself for it#but it's just simmering in my chest and every time i think of letting it hit air again i freeze bc i thought it was safe once and it WASNT.#i wanted to get my name changed before high school. i wanted to start the medical process. i wanted all the thing i thought shed do for me.#my wants and my understanding of my identity has changed now but it still hurts.#it hurts so bad to see other ppl my age get all of that and to have the support of their family and to not be afraid to put a name to it all#im happy for them. but it's so awful hearing her point those ppl out w no self awareness like oh thats so good for them isnt that sweet#I AM RIGHT HERE! YOU COULD BE DOING ALL OF THAT! I NEEDED YOU TO BE THAT FOR ME!#and every time she does acknowledge it she gets it completely wrong or it's just to bemoan how little she understands#'oh everyones changing their name now its so confusing' 'im really trying i dont know what else you want from me' NO YOURE NOT! YOURE NOT!#YOUVE NEVER BEEN WILLING TO TRY. NOT FOR ME.#you never fucking loved me you loved the idea of what you thought i would be and you cant fucking let it go even when the truth is staring#you dead in the face. fuck. you complain about how i 'hate you' or 'think youre stupid' well maybw treat me with an ounce of respect and act#like you understand the things youve EXPLICITLY BEEN TOLD. even a little.#but honestly it's too late. if she were to suddenly have a change of heart now i wouldnt give a damn.#the damage is done you dont get to have this part of me and act like youre such a good and supportive mother.#i cant even say i hate her. i love her but shes hurt me more than anyone else ever has and i can never trust her to actually love me or even#fucking see me or support anything about me that actually matters to me#i dont know. i dont know. thinking about it again.#ive thought abt telling my dad. not bc it wld do any good but bc ik he values honesty and maybe hed throw me a 'damn that sucks'#my sister said this is something i have to fight on but she doesnt get it. i have no ground to stand on as far as shes concerned
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buckleydiazmp4 · 5 months ago
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do you mind if i ramble in the tags about my weird relationship with making art in fandom for a second
#as someone who is studying art as a career one thing i have realized and also been explicitly told by various teachers#is the fact that having a 'consistent' art style is so overvalued sometimes that it ends up limiting you as an artist#literally i'd say 99 percent of the stuff we do in uni doesn't require consistency. it's actually valued when there isn't one#after all it is about learning and honing skills isn't it#so it has kind of put my personal conflicts in a different perspective#because before i started this degree i used to struggle so much with creation in non-academic spaces (which is pretty ironic. i know)#because the ppl and art i admired was mostly composed of art in fandom spaces#and the most appreciated artists in these spaces tend to be the ones who have a nice defined unique style#which isn't bad. i actually do still wish i could reach something like that#but it made me not want to create as much as i desired because i felt 'inconsistent' and i took that as a negative quality in my art#and it was so frustrating because nothing i tried seemed to 'stick'#which was also due to the fact that none of the varyingly different styles of drawings i posted seemed to reach many people#and yes i have heard time and again the whole schpiel of 'creating for yourself is better and quantity of likes/notes shouldn't mean as muc#to you as long as you're satisfied with your art blah blah blah'– c'mon. we all want our creations to be admired i'm tired of pretending#like i don't. i put it out there for a reason and it is for people to at least acknowledge it. it's the point of fandom. it's community#it's interaction. or at least it should be. that's another conversation though#so anyways since i started uni some time ago this frustration has been receding but it's very much still present#even more so when i get excited about doing/drawing something and then halfway through i get that pull in my chest of like. i'm actually#starting to hate it bc i can't reach what i want to#and so there's this disconnect that happens because i have many ideas and desires to create but i feel (even if it might not be true)#that i don't have the skillset to meet those ideas#which literally happens to almost if not everyone i know i'm not alone in this. it still sucks though#so i end up with about a dozen unfinished works monthly bc i start it/i reach halfway and hate it/i look at art and get inspired bc artists#in fandom are SO talented/i go back to it/i still can't reach the skill level i desperately want/i abandon it indefinitely#it's a horrible cycle that i really haven't been able to escape lately#it's also worse when you're at a time in your life when you don't actually have the opportunity or the time to try to achieve consistency#because you really just physically don't have the time to practice. which is the number one advice every good artist will give you#i am running out of tags but the point is. i hope we stop subconsciously putting consistent art styles in a higher pedestal bc it can be#very stressful for artists who struggle to find that in their creation#art related
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notjustjavierpena · 5 months ago
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Routine
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
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 f!reader (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.
.
.
If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️
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domjaehyun · 3 months ago
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the boy is mine (l.dh) — part six
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PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader GENRES. smut, angst WORD COUNT. 8.6k CONTENTS. infidelity, alcohol & weed consumption (MC is a non-smoker if that matters to you), explicit smut (dirty talk, fingering, finger sucking, oral (receiving), rimming (receiving), groping/frottage, marking, spit play, (brief) ear play, breast play, creampies/unprotected sex (if you explicitly need me, a stranger on the internet, to tell you not to fuck raw, you are not responsible enough to be reading this. move along now), snowballing, public sex, car sex, riding, bratty dom-leaning switch!haechan, bratty sub-leaning switch!reader, sweet dom!jeno, face riding, handjob, overstimulation (receiving), praise kink (receiving), light degradation kink (giving), mating press, morning sex) NOTES. here’s part six! thank you so much for reading this far!!! i hope you enjoy it!! please leave feedback if you liked it :) i would also greatly appreciate tips if you really liked it :3 THANK YOU LIKE THE HUUUUUGEST THANK YOU TO BRI (@jalitepng) FOR BETA READING THIS BIG OL FIC :D  PLAYLIST. the boy is mine - ariana grande // fantasize - ariana grande (unreleased) // lowkey (feat. erykah badu) - teyana taylor // agora hills - doja cat // pussy is mine - miguel // softest touch - khalid // cut - tori kelly // seatbelt - josh levi // often - doja cat // surrender - nbdy
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You wake up abruptly to the sound of your phone ringing, and you reach over to answer the call, bringing the device to your ear. “Hello?” you rasp out, groggy as can be.
“Thank God you finally woke up! Listen, Winter’s on her way to your house.” Chaewon says in a panic, and you yawn, shrugging.
“Okay?”
“She’s on her way over there because Haechan broke up with her.” Chaewon says slowly enough for it to process in your freshly roused mind, and you sit up straight in your bed, now fully awake and alarmed.
“Oh, shit. Did he—”
“He told her about you two.” she confirms, and you curse under your breath, messing with your hair anxiously.
“What exactly did he tell her?” you say slowly, and from the hesitation on the other end, you know it’s not good. “Chae, tell me.”
“He told her you two have been fooling around for a while and that he can’t hold back anymore and keep pretending and he said he doesn’t want to be with her anymore.” she blurts out, and you gasp.
“When was this? What the fuck? Why wouldn’t he run it by me first—” you mutter, worriedly stumbling out of bed and starting to fix your appearance in the mirror of your vanity.
“It seemed like it was eating away at him, honestly.” Seulgi pipes up from the background, and you sigh in defeat. “He must really like you.”
“Yeah, or really not like her.” you mumble bitterly, flinching harshly at the sound of a fist pounding on your front door. “I gotta go—she’s here—”
“I know you’re in there!” Winter shrieks through the door, and you freeze mid-stride, not sure what the best course of action might be. “Why would you do this to me?” she cries, and your heart twists painfully as regret swims through you.
You silently pad to the door, placing your hand on the doorknob before retracting it and shaking your head to yourself. You already know what Winter looks like when she cries; an adorable kicked puppy, and you have no desire to see that face when you’re the one who caused it.
“I should have known by the way he looks at you.” she sniffles, and you swallow a thick lump in your very dry throat. “He never looked at me like that.”
You try to speak, but your voice is so hoarse from just waking up and the remorse practically clogging your throat that the sounds barely register as a faint squeak. Thankfully for you, Winter doesn’t seem to hear your attempt at a remark, the heartbroken girl crying softly on the other end.
“Now you won’t even answer me? That’s just great.” she remarks bitterly, and you look at the doorknob as if you’re expecting it to unlock itself magically and let Winter in to unleash a can of whoop-ass on you.
“Y’know, I really thought you were my friend.” she says softly, her voice cracking on the last word. “If it wasn’t obvious, I don’t ever want to hear from you again.”
You quietly rest your forehead on the door, eyes sliding shut as a hot, guilty tear threatens to slip past your closed lids.
“I hope you two are happy together.” Winter scoffs, a thud from the other end telling you she’s kicked your door in frustration. After what feels like ages of silence, you peek through the peephole to see her entering the elevator at the end of your hall and let out a tortured sigh of defeat.
You slowly start to drag yourself throughout your apartment, the guilt weighing you down like shackles as you get ready for work, only to be interrupted by a hesitant knock on your door.
When you look through the peephole, your heart speeds up in panic as you see a dejected-looking Jeno standing on the other side of your door. 
You take a deep breath and pull your door open, offering a feeble smile that, you notice with a pang, he struggles to return.
“Hi,” Jeno greets, despondent as he shifts to lean against your doorway.
“Hey,” you say slowly. 
“I heard.” he explains, and you nod, swallowing thickly. “I noticed Winter left the group chat, then when I asked her why, she told me I should ask you.”
You wince in anticipation of his next words. “So you came to ask me what happened?”
“No, she told me what happened.” Jeno clarifies. “I came because I have a different question.”
“Oh,” you mumble, moving back to let him into your apartment. “Well, do you want to come in to ask?”
He seems to think about it for a moment before shaking his head with a sad smile. “I’d rather not.”
Ouch. You try to hide your saddened expression by scratching at the side of your nose, but you’re not sure you were successful because Jeno’s expression shifts to guilt for a moment and you hate it. You hate that even when he’s coming to you from a place of hurt, he’s found it in himself to be selfless and care about you. 
“That’s fair,” you say too quickly after an awkward pause. “I respect it. What was your question?”
He looks uncomfortable now, shifting his weight from foot to foot before finally asking, “I was just wondering if, um… if you entertained me, I guess, as a distraction from him?”
Your eyes widen. “Jeno, no.”
“Was it to get back at him?” he asks hoarsely, and you shake your head vehemently.
“Not at all.”
“Did it mean… anything to you?” His voice cracks on the last word, and he averts his gaze, thumbing at his nose.
“Jeno, I always had a little thing for you, even before I met Haechan. I did—do like you, I really do! I just—” you rush to explain, but Jeno cuts you off with a hand raised in a silent request for you to stop talking.
“You just… like Haechan more.” he says with a sad sort of acceptance and understanding that breaks your heart.
“Jeno, I am so sorry.” you whisper. “I don’t expect you to forgive me—”
“But I want to.”
“But you don’t have to.” you assure him. “It was never my intent to make you feel used, so I am so sorry I did.”
“It’s o–” he starts, but you shush him.
“Don’t say it’s okay until you’ve had time to think about it.” you insist.
“Yeah… yeah, I think I do need time,” he slowly agrees. “I just need to, like, get over this because,” he lets out a humorless laugh, “I really liked you.”
You’re not gonna lie; the past tense hurts you to hear. You do your best to take it on the chin with a small nod and apologetic smile, but look away to prevent Jeno from noticing the glassy shine of your eyes.
“I’m sorry, again, and I’m even more sorry for this, but I kind of have to finish getting ready for work.” you say carefully, and Jeno’s eyes flash with realization before he’s nodding and backing away from your door. 
“No problem, I’ll, uh… see you around, I guess.” he says with an awkward wave before turning and heading to your elevator and pressing the button. 
Shutting the door, you take a deep, shaky breath before wiping the single tear that you failed to hold back and continuing to get ready.
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Apparently, there really isn’t any rest for the wicked, because as you’re now rushing to get ready for work after your horrible start to your morning, your doorbell rings.
“With my luck, it’s gonna be some goons Winter sent to beat me up,” you lament sadly as you walk to your door and peek through the peephole.
To your surprise and sudden onset irritation, Haechan is standing at your door, hands clasped behind his back and teeth nibbling his bottom lip nervously.
You fling open your door and stare at him, incredulous and outraged with your hand on your hip, and he winces.
“I’m guessing you heard the news,” he says sheepishly, and you just stare at him, slowly simmering in your fury.
“You… ruined… everything.” you say slowly, and he frowns. “You—I—first of all, Winter and Jeno have already stopped by here to give me a piece of their mind, so I really feel like the Worst Person in the World right now.”
His eyes widen. “You talked to Winter?”
“She talked at me through my front door because I was too much of a coward to open it,” you mutter bitterly, and he frowns deeply. “She hates me now, as you might imagine.”
“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he says quietly, and you scoff.
“Doesn’t really matter now, does it?” you huff. “You weren’t supposed to tell her you were dumping her for me! You were just supposed to break up with her without bringing me into it! Why wouldn’t you run this by me first?”
“Well—I didn’t think about that,” he stammers.
You scowl. “And this is why you should have brought it up to me first. So I wouldn’t have woken up to being blindsided by being blocked and verbally dragged through the mud by your rightfully scorned ex-girlfriend and my ex-friend—and then being guilt-tripped to the maximum as I apologize profusely to the absolutely wounded sweetheart that was Jeno Lee in my apartment earlier for, essentially, leading him on and breaking his little puppy heart.”
Haechan looks pained. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Really, honestly.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose and breathe in and out deeply. “What possessed you to do that?”
“It just kinda… blurted out. I felt like I couldn’t stop, and once I’d started talking, it was too late to take any of it back.” he says hesitantly.
“I should have known this would end badly,” you moan in anguish, and you miss the look of hurt Haechan shoots you.
“End?” he asks, but you’ve already moved on to your next topic.
“I should have known when you met me and your first instinct was to lie to me—”
“I explained myself back then!”
“—and pretend you didn’t have a girlfriend. You didn’t seem to have a hard time withholding that information, did you?”
“That’s not fair,” he replies hoarsely, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.
“She told me she hates me, I’m a terrible friend, and she never wants to see me again.” you whisper sadly. “And she’s right! I am a terrible friend, and she should hate me and never want to see me again.”
“In your defense, you were only a bad friend to her; you’re not a bad friend overall.” Haechan adds in an attempt to be helpful, but he balks when you glower at him.
“‘Bad friend’ might be subjective, but you know what’s not? ‘Homewrecker.’” you counter. “I might as well have the words ‘dirty man stealer’ written on my forehead because by the time word gets around, that’s all everyone’s gonna know me as.”
“Please stop catastrophizing,” Haechan tries to comfort you, reaching forward to take your hand, but you pull back slightly, folding your arms over your chest and looking down at your feet to avoid the wounded look you know Haechan’s sporting right now. “Listen,” he says firmly, and you huff. “I didn’t do all this—didn’t come this far just to lose you. I broke up with her for you. I broke up with her to be with you. You think, after getting to know me, that I’m just gonna stop trying to get you to let me in?”
“This is just—Haechan, it’s too risky—I’m so scared—” you whimper, and he places his hands on your shoulders, drawing your attention to his concerned expression.
“This is the type of risk you should be taking!” Haechan insists. “Give me time to gain your trust.”
“Haechan, you’re the most risky part about all of this! You cheated on your last girlfriend!”
Hurt flashes across his face for a moment, but he doesn’t release you. “So are you saying ‘once a cheater, always a cheater?’ Are you saying that I sealed my fate as a cheater and don’t deserve a chance at love and happiness?”
“Well, no, I’m saying this is all just… a very high-risk situation… that I’m not sure I can handle.” you say carefully, but apparently, you weren’t careful enough, because he steps back in surprise, recoiling almost as if you’d slapped him.
“I’m too risky.” he says slowly, realization and hurt creeping into his expression.
You hate to see him like this, but you can’t take back anything you’ve said, and, unfortunately, you are very much in a time crunch, as an alarm on your phone reminds you, ringing loudly to give you your warning to head out.
“Haechan, I— I have work in like an hour, I have to go—” you plead, pushing between his shoulder blades to usher him out of your apartment. When you’re both standing outside, Haechan turns to look at you with an expression not unlike that of a kicked puppy, and you’re starting to get a little fed up with everyone having that expression when it comes to you..
“So we’re not gonna finish talking about this?” he pleads, and you shake your head vehemently, inching closer and closer to the elevator door.
“We’re gonna talk about this,” you promise him, finally pressing the elevator button once you’re in reach of it, and he frowns deeply. “Just not right now.” 
The door opens a moment after, to your relief, but Haechan just remains rooted in place, you would guess due to being frozen with shock.
“Are you not coming?” you ask slightly impatiently, pulling up train times on your phone and sucking your teeth before opening the Uber app.
“I’m trying to figure out whatever this was that just happened.” Haechan responds loudly enough that you can hear him, but not so loud that he’s blasting your conversation to the ears of all your neighbors.
“Is that a no?” you stress, trying your best to emphasize the fact that you’re holding the elevator door open for him.
“It’s a no,” he confirms, a hint of sadness and defeat in his voice, and your heart pangs as you release the “Door Open” button on the elevator and the doors slide shut.
As the elevator descends to the ground floor, your heart makes a similar journey, sinking to what feels like the pit of your stomach and leaving you feeling desolate and almost hopeless as you fidget impatiently waiting for your Uber.
Even as your Uber driver pulls up in a sleek white Venza and you climb in and exchange pleasantries, you keep thinking about the look on Haechan’s face when you told him you were leaving. 
You will talk it out with him—you’ll make sure of that. But first, you need to clear your mind and organize your thoughts, and that can’t happen with him standing right in front of you.
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“I just want to know what exactly you were thinking,” Seulgi sighs disappointedly. “Like, the whole time—did you just think you could keep seeing him behind her back forever?” she asks, and you wince.
“I wasn’t thinking about her.” you admit quietly, and Seulgi scoffs.
“Clearly! What you did was selfish—reckless—irresponsible, stupidly inconsiderate—”
“I get it.” you cut in gruffly.
“I don’t!” Seulgi exclaims, throwing her hands up in frustration. Yunjin catches your eye from her arm chair and something about the sympathetic gaze in her eyes brings you closer and closer to breaking down. “You weren’t thinking about her, obviously, so what were you thinking about?”
“I don’t know—”
“Yes, you do.” Seulgi says sternly.
“I don’t—”
“You do!”
“I was thinking about him, okay?” you snap, and she pauses, stunned. “I can’t explain myself, but the whole time, all I thought about was him, and how much I—” your voice catches in your throat and you stop talking to collect yourself.
“How much you… ?” Chaewon asks, and it’s the first time she’s spoken, a cursory glance in her direction revealing that she’s looking at you just as gently as Yunjin is, making the backs of your eyes hotter than before.
“How much I like him,” you confess in a wail, and Yunjin moves from her seat to sit beside you, pulling you into her embrace as you sniffle. “I like him so much, guys. He walks into a room and I, like, can’t look away. It’s like he’s magnetic or something, or like—like—” you stammer and Yunjin places her hand on yours gently.
“Like you might be falling in love with him?” she asks softly, and you freeze before fresh tears well up in your eyes and threaten to spill over.
“Like that,” you agree pathetically, tucking your head into her neck sadly, and she tuts sympathetically, resting her cheek on the top of your head as she continues to hug you. 
“I just—” Seulgi starts before taking a deep breath and restarting with a significantly gentler tone, “I don’t understand when this started exactly.”
You take a deep breath and look at Yunjin, the two of you exchanging meaningful glances.
“You know the welcome home party we had when I came back from Oxford?” you attempt to jog her memory, and she looks thoughtful before nodding. “Remember my party crush that disappeared?” you continue, and she nods again, her eyes widening at your expectant expression as you wait for her to put two and two together. 
“It was him?” she asks in a whisper, and you nod.
“I didn’t know at first—”
“I had to tell her,” Yunjin butts in, coming to your defense, and your heart warms with gratitude for your friend. “She didn’t want anything to do with him, but I guess he wasn’t done with her.”
“Well, don’t paint him as this cunning, evil mastermind,” you say carefully, frowning. “We connected. He couldn’t shake the connection. I should have pushed him away more.”
“But you liked him from the start,” Yunjin points out, still defending you even from yourself. “And he knew. You two didn’t really stand a chance of this ending well.”
Seulgi looks between you and Yunjin with a heavy sigh before turning to Chaewon. “What do you think?”
“I think,” Chaewon says slowly, “in spite of my sapphic lifestyle and ways, I can tell why you like him. And I can see why he likes you. You two are cute together—Seulgi, don’t make that face, because you know it’s true. It’s sad it happened like this, but I think everything happens for a reason.” 
“So you think I should be with him or something?” you ask, surprised and confused and just a bit hopeful.
“I think this shouldn’t be the way to end it, if you do choose to end it. I think you should talk to him again.” she says wisely, and you nod thoughtfully.
“I guess I understand.” Seulgi finally chimes in, and you could practically faint with relief. “You’re basically, like, in love with him. And based on his behavior the other day—y’know, breaking up with Winter—he must love you, too.”
“Well, let’s not jump the gun.” you chuckle hollowly. “I already told him we couldn’t talk about it when he showed up at my place, and I think he thinks I was ending things.”
“Well, were you?” Chaewon asks, and you pause to think before shaking your head slowly.
“I don’t think I was.” you realize in surprise, and Yunjin lets out a low whistle.
“So, how are we going to get your little lover boy back?” she asks, and you shrug hopelessly.
“He probably doesn’t even want to see me,” you sigh.
“We’ll figure that out later,” Seulgi says comfortingly, sitting down on the carpet in front of your knees. “I’m sorry for coming at your throat like that earlier,” she says with a sad smile. “I thought I had an idea of what was going on, but I was wrong.”
“It’s okay,” you reply with a small smile. “You were just making sure I wasn’t, like, a terrible person and a homewrecker.”
“You know what I wonder?” Chaewon says out of the blue. “If the guys are comforting Haechan.”
“I hope they are,” you reply immediately. “I hope he’s not alone in this.”
“Well, why don’t you ask them?” she supplies helpfully, and you think about it before nodding in agreement.
“I can do that,” you say resolutely, and she squeezes your hand with an encouraging smile. 
“Good,” she hums, “now can we talk about something less dreadful? Like girls, perhaps?”
“I agree on the topic change,” Seulgi adds immediately, and you snort. 
“We could watch a movie?” Yunjin suggests, and you sit up slightly in your spot.
“We could watch a classic movie about girls,” you add on, and it’s almost like everyone’s mind syncs up at once. “Like—”
“But I’m A Cheerleader?” Seulgi finishes hopefully, and you laugh before nodding. “I’m in!”
As Yunjin and Seulgi start to bustle around the kitchen and living room to prepare for your movie viewing, Chaewon scoots closer to you and rests her head on your shoulder.
“We’ll make it through this, you know,” she comforts you gently. “This feeling definitely isn’t permanent.”
Her words linger in your mind the whole night as you hope and pray she’s right.
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“So,” Chenle remarks loudly, folding his hands over his omelet and regarding you carefully. “Let’s recap, shall we?”
“Oh, God,” you groan, putting your face in your hands.
“You knew it was coming,” Mark says with a sympathetic smile.
“In the past week,” Chenle recounts to your table, “Winter has gone completely AWOL, Jeno’s sulking, and Haechan is in the middle of a depressive episode.” He sits forward and eyes you intently. “How do you feel about all of this? What are you gonna do about it all?”
“I already talked to Jeno,” you point out.
“Yes, and may have worsened his sulking.” Chenle counters, and you scowl.
“Who invited this guy?”
“I think what he’s trying to say is that, except Jeno, the ball’s kind of in your court in both situations.”
“I think Winter’s final message was perfectly clear and, frankly, she deserves to have the last word.” you raise your hands in surrender, and Chenle rolls his eyes.
“Don’t you think she deserves an apology?” he butts in, and you frown.
“Of course she does,” you say, “but I didn’t think she wanted to hear from me again, so I’m probably never going to speak to her again if I can help it.” Chenle shoots you a disapproving look, and you continue with, “I’m not going to ask her to unblock me because I deserve it. I did a bad thing to her! I betrayed her!”
“Okay,” Mark relents on that front, choosing a new angle. “How about Haechan?”
You pause, considering your words carefully. “I… I really like Haechan. Like, I really like him, but I’m scared, because I feel like if he cheated on Winter with me, who’s to say he won’t find another me in someone else later down the line? It’s just a very… high-risk situation.” you sigh, not yet noticing the look your friends share before sitting forward.
“Did you happen to say that during your talk with Haechan?” Mark asks, and you cock your head to the side in confusion.
“Say what?”
“High-risk,” Chenle presses, and you think back before nodding. “That explains that, then.”
“What are you talking about?” you ask, confused.
“He, um. He keeps saying that. That he’s too high-risk to be with and what’s the point of it all anyway, and—” Mark says, but you hold your hand up to silence him. 
“I’ll talk to him,” you promise quietly, trying to hide the way your heart is breaking. “I never meant to hurt him. I’ll talk to him soon.”
“And Winter? You never meant to hurt her either, I’m guessing.” Chenle asks.
“I’ll talk to Winter if she can manage to look at me without attacking me.” you sigh. “But we don’t live near each other, don’t work together, and it’s not like we’re gonna run into each other in the middle of the street or anything.”
“That’s fair,” Chenle shrugs. “But you might. It’s not exactly a small city, but it’s likely.”
“Pfft, okay.” you scoff. “Can I finish my waffles now?”
Chenle gestures at your plate with his fork invitingly. “Dig in.”
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The universe has a funny way of making you eat your words sometimes.
You’re walking around at the farmer’s market in search of fresh produce for you and Yunjin, when a familiar head of strawberry blonde hair catches your eye and makes you freeze.
“Oh, no,” you whisper to yourself, ducking behind a cart of mangoes. The man running the cart peers down at you curiously but, at the sight of your pleading expression, doesn’t protest. “Please keep walking,” you say hopefully, peering over the counter of the cart.
To your complete and utter dismay, not only is Winter in perfect eyesight of you still, but now you’re in perfect eyesight of her.
You two lock eyes and, frankly, you don’t know what to do. Recognition, then pain, then a flash of anger passes over Winter’s face before she settles on indifference and turns, walking away.
You stand up slowly, embarrassed, and smooth out the invisible wrinkles on your sundress, nodding gratefully at the still confused older man who you’ve joined behind the counter. “Thank you.”
“Welcome,” he replies, voice kind of gruff. “Would you like some mangoes?”
You pause, thinking. “Actually, I would.”
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The universe must be feeling silly again, you think as you contemplate your current predicament. 
You’ve been walking around the farmer’s market with a general sense of anxiety and wariness, flinching at every redhead you see, and you’ve just finished checking over your shoulder to make sure she’s not about to run up behind you with a spear when you run directly into the very person you’re avoiding, Winter stumbling to the side from the impact before you steady her.
“Thanks,” she says with an awkward smile, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.
“No problem,” you reply with a small smile, nodding uncomfortably. You two stare at each other and Winter opens her mouth as if to speak, but ultimately seems to decide against it and turns to leave. She gets about five feet away before you’re blurting out, “I’m sorry!”
She pauses mid-stride, and you take a deep breath. “I’m not asking for forgiveness because I don’t deserve it,” you say carefully, “but I want you to know that nothing about this was personal. It was selfish and horrible, but it was all about me and had nothing to do with hurting you. I can’t explain what happened because I don’t fully understand and I suspect you don’t want to hear it, but I really am sorry and it’s over now.”
She turns to face you finally, her brows raised in surprise. “It’s over?”
You nod resolutely.
“I mean—you’re right. I’m not gonna forgive you. I am gonna say, though, that from seeing you two together, like even when I had my suspicions, I… I get it.”
It’s your turn for your brows to shoot up in shock. “You get it?”
She nods with a small shrug. “Your connection is, like, electric. Like, it hurts for real, don’t get me wrong, and I definitely don’t forgive you, but I’d rather he break up with me to be with the love of his life than break up with me for no reason, y’know? Am I making sense? I guess what I’m saying is: you already did the bad thing… so you might as well reap the benefits of the bad thing and have a whirlwind of a relationship whether it ends well or not.”
You nod slowly, in a daze but still unwaveringly focused on one part of her response. “He said that?” you ask quietly, stunned.
Winter tilts her head to the side in confusion. “Said what?”
“That I’m the love of his life,” you repeat, awestruck. “He said that?”
Winter shifts her weight from one foot to the other, but nods. “Yeah.”
“Like those were his exact words?” you press as you move a bit closer.
Winter coughs uncomfortably into her fist, looking pained. “I’d rather not rehash every intimate detail of my boyfriend dumping me for my ex-friend… and I’d rather not do it to said ex-friend.” she explains, and you nod immediately, stepping back slightly in a silent apology for overstepping. 
“My bad,” you mumble, embarrassed.
“You’re fine,” she replies quietly, adjusting her bag strap again. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m saying it because, unfortunately for me, I still care about both of you. Give him another chance? I just… you two could be really good together and I don’t want to have suffered for nothing.”
Your nodding starts slow and builds until you feel more confident in your decision. “Thanks, Winter. I really am sorry.”
“Yeah,” she nods dismissively in response, and you purse your lips awkwardly. “Um, I’m gonna—” she gestures with her thumb over her shoulder.
“Sure! Yeah, me too. Take—um—take care, I guess.” you mumble, and she smiles slightly.
“You too.”
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You think over Winter’s advice for about a week, really considering and weighing out your options. The whole time, though, your mind keeps wandering back to Haechan because, honestly, you miss him. You’re trying not to let that color your decisions, but at the same time, how could it not? 
You’re home with Yunjin, both of you sprawled out on the couch watching some mindless reality television show in an attempt to distract yourself from the internal debate you’re having, when the doorbell rings. You both turn and look at each other, confused.
“I’m not expecting anyone,” you say slowly. “Are you?”
“Nope,” she answers, brows furrowed curiously. “I’ll get it, though.”
“Thanks,” you sigh, trying once more to become one with the upholstery. She gets to her feet and walks to the front door, the sound of it opening catching your attention just in time for you to hear her call your name.
You stand and make your way over to the front door only to stop short at the sight of Haechan standing in your doorway.
The three of you stand there, seemingly frozen, before Yunjin breaks the silence.
“I’ll, um, be in my room if you need me.” she says, squeezing your arm gently before turning and heading to her bedroom.
You two just stand there, still frozen, taking in the sight of each other. Seeing Haechan makes all your feelings from the past week multiply tenfold, but one thought pushes to the forefront: you really did miss him.
“Hi,” he says with a small wave, and you offer the beginnings of a smile.
“Hi,” you reply, waving back awkwardly. 
“How are you?” he asks softly.
You shrug half-heartedly. “I’m okay, y’know—living, I guess.” you answer, and he nods slowly, drumming his fingers on the sides of his thighs.
“Well, that’s, um, good. I’m happy to hear that.” he says carefully, and it’s your turn to nod.
“How are you?” you ask, and he looks you directly in the eyes.
”Bad.” he answers simply, and your brows raise in surprise. 
“Oh—?”
“I feel like I’m not living when I’m not with you.” he admits plainly.
You’re not really sure what to say. “Oh… that’s not good?”
Despite his admission, Haechan still manages to chuckle at your flustered state, stepping forward and asking, “Are we gonna have this whole conversation with me standing outside of your apartment?”
You shake your head and move back to let him in before you even realize you’re doing it. “You can come in,” you offer, and he takes the invitation immediately, stepping closer and into your apartment. He walks straight to your living room with you following after him and stands in the middle of it, running his hand through his hair.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers the confession, and your eyes widen slightly. “I like you so much. You make my day better when I know I get to see you.”
Your face softens. “Haechan—”
“I’m not intentionally being selfish, either!” he defends himself, and you stop speaking, waiting for him to finish. “It was just… eating me up inside not to be with you and show the world how much I like you. It just felt so wrong to me, like, what was I doing in that relationship?”
You wait for a minute. “Is that all you wanted to say?” you ask gently, and he shakes his head, taking a deep breath before continuing.
“I know I’m a cheater and I’m pretty dangerous in terms of being in a relationship with me because I literally just dumped my girlfriend quite abruptly after cheating on her with you, but—”
“Haechan, I wasn’t saying you’re a cheater. Like, yes, you did cheat, but that doesn’t define you, I don’t think.” you say slowly, not willing to hear him about to beat himself up, and he relaxes slightly, looking over at you hopefully. “I just… I know I have a hard time trusting people, and I’m having a hard time right now because you’re one of the first people I’d like to trust again, which is terrifying to me.” you say with a slight shake to your voice.
“I would never hurt you on purpose,” he assures you. “Like I would never do anything like this to you.”
You wrap your arms around yourself in a tight hug in an attempt to comfort yourself. “How do I know that’s true?” you whisper, and he gives you a small, sad smile.
“You’re just gonna have to trust me and find out. And I know that’s a big, high-risk situation, but—”
“It’s worth it, though,” you interject softly, and he stops short, looking at you with eyes swimming with hope. “Like, you’re worth it. I think.”
The beginnings of a smile tug at his lips. “Yeah?” If hope was a light, he’d be glowing from every orifice of his body as he tentatively steps closer to you, smiling wider when you don’t step back.
You nod with a smile curling your own lips. “Yeah, the risk is worth the reward this time, I think, because… I really like being with you.”
Haechan’s eyes hold a playful twinkle as he leans closer, a mischievous grin on his lips. “Yeah? You like being with me?”
“Yeah, I do. A lot. That’s why I was so upset,” you admit. “I wished… still kinda wish… that things were different. That it was me from the beginning.”
“It was you, baby,” he says with an incredulous laugh. “Winter and I were done for the second I laid eyes on you, truthfully.”
“I mean, I wish that we had met when you were single and we could have gotten together without compromising our morals.” you explain, and he nods in understanding before tentatively reaching a hand out to you. When you take it, he beams and pulls you closer to wrap his arm around the small of your back.
“Well… it can be you now.” he suggests, hope glowing from him once more. “You can trust me.”
“That’s a risk I’m gonna have to take, I guess.” you say with a growing smile, and he doesn’t waste another moment before wrapping you in a tight embrace that feels like coming home after a long day. “I missed you,” you confess, voice muffled by the hug, and he pulls back to regard you with shock all over his features.
“You missed me? I was about two days away from doing some grand gesture to get you back or crashing out horrendously if you said no.” he laughs, and you giggle, looking up at him with bright, happy eyes.
“Oh, really? Actually, that does sound about right.” you tease, and he narrows his eyes at you playfully before leaning in closer.
“Shut up,” he chuckles before bringing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. It feels like warmth floods your whole system, not a warmth akin to desire, but a warmth unlike one you’ve experienced or find yourself able to identify, and you wonder, for a moment, if this is what it feels like to be in love. “Missed you so much,” he groans against your lips, and you pull back slightly to give him small, soft pecks that leave him chasing after your lips for more. “You know what?”
“What is it?”
“I wanna say something.” he decides, and you regard him curiously.
“What’s up?”
“I would really, truly, never ever cheat on you or do anything to break your heart.” he promises you, and you nod with a warm smile.
“I think I believe you,” you say slowly, almost surprised at yourself, and his eyes light up.
“Really?” he asks excitedly, and you nod, draping your arms around his neck.
“I guess I just figured that you wouldn’t do that to the… love of your life.” you say with a teasing smile towards the end, and Haechan stiffens.
“Who told you that?”
“Winter.” you answer simply, and he gapes at you.
“She told you I said that?” he says hoarsely, and you nod, your eyes twinkling with delight. “Why would she do that to me?”
“Possibly her final act of revenge.” you suggest, and his mouth twists awkwardly as he looks away from you with his face reddening. “Hold on a minute. Are you—” 
“Don’t,” he groans, but you ignore him.
“Are you shy right now?” you giggle, and he lets out a small, adorably pathetic wail before burying his face in your neck, the force of his actions knocking you off your feet and sending you both falling onto the couch with a shriek slipping from your lips. “Aw, poor baby,” you coo patronizingly, running your fingers through his hair as he wraps both arms around your waist tighter and nuzzles into the space between your chin and shoulder.
“Don’t be mean,” he whines, and you can’t even stop laughing even if you tried, truly delighted at this new side of Haechan.
“I think you kind of like it when I’m mean,” you remind him through your giggles, and he nods vehemently against your skin, only making your laughter grow.
“Yeah, so quit it before I get hard and make it your problem.” he grumbles, and you scoff.
“I’m not scared of your little friend, Haechan.” you say, and he pulls back to look at you incredulously.
“Little?!” he practically squawks before his fingers are dancing up and down your sides to tickle you mercilessly. 
“I’m sorry!” you shriek through your uncontrollable laughing, and he stops abruptly, bringing his face to yours and studying your expression carefully.
“That’s what I thought. I mean, little? Really? Did you actually forget so soon, baby?” he says with a mocking pout, and you swallow thickly as you gaze up at him. He leans closer so your noses are touching before he says, “I think you might need a reminder.”
“Can you remind her in her bedroom and not defile our lovely couch?” Yunjin’s voice appears out of nowhere, and you jolt in surprise, trying to sit up (in vain, as Haechan has you pinned down). “Love is a beautiful thing, but cum stains aren’t.”
“Amen, girl.” you agree, patting Haechan’s chest to let you up, which he does. “Come on.” you stand and offer him your hand, which he takes readily, and lead him to your room. It’s not until you two are safely in your room with your door shut that you say, “I do too, by the way.”
“You do… what… too?” Haechan asks, puzzled, and you smile secretively, collapsing onto your bed.
“Love you.” you answer simply, and his eyes look like they could pop out of his head at any moment. “Don’t freak out.” you warn him, and he jumps onto your bed, climbing on top of you with a wild, exhilarated look in his eyes.
“The love of my life just told me she loves me back and you expect me to stay calm?” he says incredulously, and you nod. 
“Precisely.”
He dips his head down swiftly to kiss you before sitting up and pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “No can do. Gonna text all my friends the news right now and tell my boss I’m not coming to work later.”
“Now why would that warrant calling out of work?” you say with a snort.
“Hush, lady, I’m posting on my Instagram story.” he silences you with a focused look on his face.
“Can I see when you’re done?” you ask, and he nods, turning his phone to face you. “…Haechan.”
“Yes?”
“‘My girl said she loves me, crash out postponed’ is a crazy thing to post.” you snicker.
“It’s true!”
“Your crash out should be canceled!” you exclaim incredulously.
“I’m never truly not at risk of crashing out.” he confesses, and you make a worried face and start sitting up, pretending to get ready to leave. “Oh, no, you don’t.” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you back down to him. “You’re stuck with me, I fear.”
“Mm, I guess that’s okay.” you say with a grin.
Truthfully, you don’t think you could be happier.
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“What are we watching tonight?” Chenle asks as he plops down on the other end of the couch you’re sitting on.
“I vote Aquaman,” you pipe up, reaching out to Haechan as he approaches with a plate of pizza rolls for you two. When he offers the plate to your outstretched hands, you shake your head and wave the plate away, reaching out again to make it abundantly clear what you’re reaching for. He grins, setting the plate down on the coffee table in front of you before collapsing into your waiting embrace with a pleased sigh.
“You just wanna drool over Jason Momoa,” Chaewon jeers, and you shrug.
“That’s my God-given right.” you defend yourself casually, and Haechan nods in agreement.
“You do know she’s gonna lust after him the whole movie, right?” Chenle points out to Haechan, who just shrugs dismissively.
“Then when she’s all pent-up and frisky, who’s she gonna come to?” he answers smugly, and you beam, leaning over to kiss his cheek.
“He’s playing chess, y’all, not checkers.” you remark.
Haechan snorts in amusement and grins proudly before jerking his chin towards the television. “Exactly. Now someone put it on.”
“Bossy ass,” Yunjin mutters jokingly under her breath. 
“What was that?” Haechan puts a hand behind his ear. “Couldn’t hear you over there.”
“No, you can’t fight Yunjin.” you whisper to him, putting his hand down. He looks over at you confused and you continue, “I can’t pick a side.”
“Pick my side?” he replies slowly as if the answer was obvious. “I’m your boyfriend.”
“She’s my best friend, though.” you reply with a wince, and Yunjin nods from the armchair she’s curled up in. “And she knows where I sleep at night.”
“Both are true,” she confirms proudly, and Haechan sucks his teeth but backs down with a roll of his eyes. 
“Fine. For now,” he relents with a brief glare shot in Yunjin’s direction. “Can we put the movie on now?” he complains, and she rolls her eyes exaggeratedly before starting to navigate to the movie on the television screen.
Haechan laces his fingers with yours, curling them into his palm as he brings your linked hands to his mouth. You watch with rapt attention as he kisses the back of your hand, then each knuckle, all the while maintaining heavy eye contact.
Your cheeks blaze something fierce and you look away with a nervous, shy giggle that makes Haechan chuckle.
“Look at me,” he murmurs insistently, moving his head so it’s more in your line of sight. When you swallow and look away again, he coos fondly, pulling your chin so your face is angled towards his once more. “There’s my pretty girl.”
“Haechan,” you whine quietly, and his gaze darkens.
“What is it, baby?” he murmurs with a sympathetic lilt. “What’s wrong?”
“Stop looking at me like that,” you mumble, placing your hand up between your faces so he can’t look directly at you. “It’s making me nervous.”
He snickers, moving your hand to your lap and regarding you carefully.
“How am I looking at you?” he asks with a raised brow and a devious little grin. 
“You know how you’re looking at me.” you gripe, pushing his shoulder slightly, and his eyes flash with mischief.
“Well, it’s not that I’m looking at you like you’re the only thing on my menu for tonight, is it? Because I look at you like that all the time.” he thinks aloud, slowly pulling you onto his lap and winding his arms around your waist. 
“God, Haechan,” you half-laugh, half-gasp, and he grins. 
“No, it can’t be that. Is it because I’m looking at you like I love you?” he asks plainly, and your throat closes up slightly in shock from his bluntness. 
“Well—yes, a bit.” you mumble, shifting in your spot slightly. 
“I don’t know if you realize this,” he murmurs by your ear, “but I’ve been looking at you like that from day one.”
“It’s way different now,” you counter, frowning as you explain yourself. “Before it was like… fascination more than—”
“Understanding?” he finishes for you, and you blink in surprise before nodding. “So I could look at you like I love you when I didn’t know you, but now that I know you, I can’t look at you like I love you? Even though now I have more reasons to love you?” he says slowly, looking at you with his brows raised. “Do you see how silly you sound, baby?”
You can’t help but laugh fondly, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. “I kinda do, yeah.”
“Good. Now gimme a kiss before you let me look at you any way I want.” he huffs playfully, pressing his lips to yours with a pleased hum.
“Can you two get a room?” Chenle gags, and you break apart, a sheepish smile on your face while Haechan rolls his eyes. “Man, what’s Jeno gonna do when he comes back to hanging out with us and has to watch you two practically going at it all the time?”
“He’s a big boy, he’ll manage.” Haechan grumbles before pecking you on the lips again.
“Speaking of Jeno,” you ask, shifting to sit up slightly. “Do we really think he’s gonna feel comfortable being friends with us again?”
“He’d be silly not to,” Chaewon answers in confusion. “It’s not like you two were a thing for real.” 
“Speaking of people and forgiveness and that kind of stuff…” Haechan trails off, his voice softer as he shifts his target audience to you alone, and you turn your head slightly to regard him suspiciously. 
“You’d better not ask what I think you’re about to ask.” you warn him, and he frowns.
“I was just wondering if you think Winter would ever forgive us?” he asks hopefully, and you shake your head resolutely.
“No. And she shouldn’t, frankly. We did a bad thing.” you explain, and he nods slowly.
“I just feel a little guilty.” he muses quietly, and you can’t hide your small snicker of amusement.
“You should, actually. But it’ll pass with time hopefully.” you assure him.
“What are you two lovebirds chatting about?” Seulgi calls out from across the room.
“Wondering if Winter would ever forgive any of us.” you answer for Haechan, and Seulgi, Yunjin, and Mark shake their heads immediately, Chenle straight up laughs, and Yunjin shoots you both a sympathetic frown.
“I doubt it. She blocked all of us when she found out we knew.” Mark points out, and you nod slowly in understanding.
“Actually, she didn’t block me,” Yunjin corrects, “but I think that has more to do with the fact that we’re kind of coworkers.”
“Have you seen her since everything?” Chaewon asks curiously, and Yunjin thinks back for a moment.
“I saw her the other day because she was working with a client that stays on the same floor as Mrs. Rothschild. She gave me, like, that reflex half-smile that you give people when you don’t wanna seem rude, y’know?” 
“Oh, I know that one.” you reply with a solemn nod. “We’re doomed.”
“Can we stop moping around and watch this movie, please? Also, can we order pizza or something, because I’m starving.” Mark complains, clutching his stomach, and you snort loudly in amusement.
“Yeah, moping session over. Let’s press play and figure out the food situation.” you announce, and Yunjin nods once before starting the movie. As the starting credits roll, you all decide on the pizza order (three medium pizzas, one with extra cheese, one with pepperoni, and one with half pineapple, half chicken and tomato) and place it for delivery before you settle further into the couch on Haechan’s lap in an attempt to get comfortable.
When the doorbell rings, you all look at each other in a silent standoff before Haechan sighs loudly and clambers off of the couch to get the door. You all wait with bated breath until he returns with three boxes of pizza stacked on top of each other before you start cheering.
As you all scramble to get your slices of choice, Haechan pushes Chenle out of the way none too gently, the male squawking indignantly before muttering something about favoritism and revenge and Haechan’s toothbrush, and tugs you closer to the boxes. “Take your pick, baby.”
“Aren’t you a gentleman?” you coo fondly as you take your desired slices.
After he takes his, the two of you make your way back to the couch and settle down in your spots from before. 
“Y’know, I’ve been trying to convince you I’m a gentleman since, like, the first day I met you,” he chuckles. 
“It was a lot harder to believe when you were literally dating You-Know-Who.” you reply in defense, and he rolls his eyes.
“I’ve been yours from the beginning, though. I told you that.” he reminds you, and you gaze into his eyes for a moment before reaching up and gently cupping his cheek.
“Yeah, but now I actually believe you.” you say softly, almost surprised by your own revelation, and his eyes widen slightly before a smile starts tugging at his lips.
“Oh, yeah? How’s it feel, then?” he asks in a murmur, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion.
“How does what feel?”
“Knowing I love you,” he answers, and there goes that arrhythmic thud of your heartbeat starting up again. “That I’m yours.”
the boy is mine. watch me take my time. i can’t believe my mind. the boy is divine—
In lieu of a verbal response, you cup his chin and pull him in for a slow, deep kiss that you hope conveys all the feelings you can’t put into words. When you pull back, his eyes are heavy-lidded and he’s gazing at you with blatant adoration in his gaze.
“Like that,” you whisper back with a smile, and by the sheer radiance of his responding beam, you know he understands. 
—the boy is mine.
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TA DA!!!!! i hope you enjoyed your read! this is the final installment, so thank you so so much for your support with this fic! it was a Lot to write but i’m proud of it! i really love positive feedback and also, if you’re able, i very much appreciate tips!! 
if you’d like to read the bonus scene, it’s available on my patreon here :) it answers a couple of questions you might have had, and down the line there will probably be more bonus scenes to come, exclusive to patreon members!!
LINKS: KO-FI // VENMO // CASHAPP // AMAZON WISHLIST // (if you’d like to support via paypal, let me know off anon!!)
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moonstruckme · 4 months ago
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okay i absolutely NEED james with an emo/goth gf!!! it’s giving black cat reader 🤭🤭🤭 only write if you want of course ♥️♥️
Thank you for requesting lovely! I fear this ended up being more black cat than goth because I didn't really go into describing reader's aesthetic but I hope this is the attitude you were looking for <3
cw: mention of alcohol (but reader isn't explicitly drinking)
James Potter x black cat!reader ♡ 718 words
James doesn’t think you’re glaring at him, but you’re definitely glaring. 
“How’s your drink, angel?” he asks, leaning across your small table with a smile. 
You suck your teeth. “It’s good.” 
James reaches over the table for your hand. You give it to him, thundercloud expression not so much as flickering, but when he squeezes your fingers you squeeze back. 
He lowers his voice. “What’s wrong?” 
“How can you think over their racket?” The question bursts out of you like this is something you’ve been waiting to talk about. James follows the beam of your glare, turning in his seat to look at the gaggle of men sitting in the corner booth of the restaurant. They’re laughing, rambunctious, one of them having procured a deck of cards which they seem to be playing some kind of disorganized game with. Two have begun arm wrestling.
“They’re yelling so loud it’s bouncing off the walls,” you seethe. “It’s so obnoxious. I can barely hear you without you shouting.” 
James makes a face as he turns back around, feeling a tad oblivious. He’d just thought this was a louder sort of restaurant, but he sees now that the other patrons are leaning close to each other over their tables, talking as quietly as they can manage just like you. The noise is created only by that one group. 
“I think they’ve had a few.” He gives a sheepish shrug, nodding to the empty pints collecting in one corner of their table. However they might be acting, James feels awful for anyone who ends up on the other end of your wrath. “You know how it is when you get like that and sort of forget where you are.” 
“No, not really.” You start tapping an irritated finger on the table. “They could at least try to be considerate. And there’s a bar just across the street, why not go there?” 
James gives you an amused look. “Hey,” he says, leaning across the table and coaxing you in for a kiss. You relent to it, but you don’t look much improved afterwards. “It’s all in good fun, yeah? We shouldn’t let their good time ruin our good time.” 
He suspects you’re a bit peeved with him for not taking your side, but you try to overcome it. “Yeah,” you agree. You lean over to take a sip from your straw, still obviously fuming. 
And James decides something simply must be done. 
“Alright.” He gives your hand a quick squeeze, pushing back his chair as he stands. “Back in a second, lovie.” 
He can feel your eyes following as he goes over to the rowdy table and introduces himself. Every now and then as he talks to the guys, he’ll glance over to find your stare still on him, narrowed with curiosity. James has to admit, the pleasure of having your attention has never quite worn off. He sends you a wink when nobody else is looking. 
After a few minutes, the men slip out from their booth and James parts with them with a series of clapping handshakes. You watch in awe as they go out the door, your gaze moving back to your boyfriend when he sits across from you. 
“How did you do that?” you ask. 
James grins smugly. “I just got a bit chummy with them and then told them about the bar across the street. They have a pool table over there, and if you make it before eight pints are half off.” 
Your lips part slightly. It’s as close to jaw-dropping surprise as you ever get. “You seriously got them to leave by making friends with them.” 
He shrugs. “I guess. We didn’t really have time to get to know each other all that well.” 
You regard him thoughtfully for a moment, then lean across the table to kiss his cheek. James’ smile leaps up on his face. His stomach feels swarmed by butterflies far more boisterous than that table had ever been. 
“Thanks,” you say. 
James is smiling so hard it’s hurting his cheeks. “You feel better now?” 
You roll your eyes, but he spies a twitch in the corner of your lips. “Yeah, I feel better.” 
“Good.” He pecks you on your cheek in turn. You appear dangerously close to pleased. “Then you’re welcome, lovie.”
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phant0mth1ef · 4 months ago
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bakugou x blunt business course reader hcs / let me know if you guys want little drabbles of this!!
- usually business course students wanted to create their own companies, but there were a select few like you and some others that agreed to take on the challenge of trying to market heroes as approachable and attractive!
- he’s known your name since first year due to your placement in the sports’ festival, honestly with your quirk he was surprised you didn’t take the hero track. anyways his nickname for you was “wasted potential business course extra.”
- the first time he actually talked to you was in second year when the teachers had told the hero course students to get more invested with those in the business course, stating that one day they’d be in charge of each and every career.
- was a pain in the ass when he first met you, like he literally sucked and you dreaded every meeting.
“hello… bakugou?” you said skimming down the list of potential heroes you were supposed to meet with.
“yeah, what?” you knew getting people to like him was going to be even harder than getting people to like another client of yours, monoma.
“don’t take that tone with me, i’m basically launching your career.” you typed away on your laptop as the boy sulked in a chair, listening to everything you said.
“as i was saying, marketing yourself in a way similar to best jeanist can have either a good outcome, they’ll approve of you. or a bad outcome, they’ll call you a copycat.”
“tch.” so he ignored your advice and launched his career in a way similar to the pro hero’s and ended up getting insane backlash to the point where you had to step in and try to completely rebrand him.
eventually you got people to start referring to him as the blast hero.
“people are calling me blasty boy.”
“wow. that’s really unfortunate for you! anyways, what’s your height? this company wants to interview you for their tall men friendly jeans.”
- hated meeting with you because of how blunt and honest you were, but also grew to like you because whenever you complimented him, he knew you were genuine.
- would try to blow off meetings just for you to find him and drag him back to the business course meeting rooms, your quirk was something similar to blackwhip so he couldn’t ever really get out of your hold.
- once he realized how popular he was quickly getting thanks to you, he started to actually value the time you’d been putting into making him an admirable hero, but he couldn’t say the same for monoma who, no matter what you did, could not be saved in the publicity department.
- would never thank you, at least not directly.
“i guess this is where we part ways.” you told him at your last meeting before graduation.
“… i guess so. 🧍🏻 thanksorwhatever.” he spoke fast, as if he’d run out of words before leaving.
- even though he said he hated you on countless occasions, he couldn’t deny that he’d begun to miss you when you weren’t around. going so far as to find your contact and call you up once he started his own agency.
“you want me so bad.” you said as you walked in, your briefcase in hand as you shoved the boy to the side, headed up to your new office.
“no i don’t! just need help. s’all!” he was so easy to piss off it was so funny.
- you made him take modeling gigs when his approval ratings were low.
- one time you both went to grab dinner and people assumed you were on a date and you guys just never corrected them and continued to do stuff like that.
- eventually you fell into a routine, and although he never explicitly asked you out, you’d moved into his apartment, did couple things like kiss and stuff, and were always around each other.
- even he thought you were dating until you got interviewed once.
“a boyfriend?… no.” you were so oblivious it was crazy, he had to tell you afterwards that he thought you were his girlfriend.
“WE’RE DATING?” you were completely shocked and he just stood like like a statue.
“YOU DIDN’T KNOW?!”
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youraverageaemondsimp · 1 year ago
Text
Taste of depravity. // DARK!Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon (Cole)!Reader (Criston's daughter.)
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MDNI, reader discretion is advised.
Summary: Aemond knows he shouldn't want you, especially after finding out you that were Criston's daughter, who was his father figure his entire life, yet he can't help himself but to crave the sweet taste of sinfulness.
A/N: y'all he's dark but not the usual dark, he's just psychotic(?) Idk. No noncon, but he's extremely obsessive towards her, and criston is stressed tf out. // divider credit: @cafekitsune
WARNINGS: dark!aemond, p in v sex, unprotected sex, biting, breeding kink, humiliation, dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering, virginity loss, tiddy sucking, oral (f. receiving), face sitting, manhandling, profanity, reader is a bastard, aemond insults reader for being a bastard, he gets off of her suffering, he's insane, stressed dad criston, traumatic encounters by criston, dilemma, angst(?), fluff, reader is described to resemble criston so she has dark hair and eyes but no color is explicitly stated, + not proofread.
WC: 7k
Criston walked through the hallways of the red keep, armour clinking against each other as he walked towards a person's chamber who he swore to never involve himself with again.
Rhaenyra.
It wasn't the sudden love for her that made him do this, no, in fact he never even loved her, he had only realised after whatever happened on the ship with her.
It was guilt.
Guilt that he had stained his white cloak, guilt that he wasn't able to refuse, because the power imbalance between them was way too high, he couldn't risk it, burning all his efforts just because of refusing a princess.
He couldn't say no.
He was disgusted with himself afterwards.
He tried to pretend it was love to no avail, convincing himself that Rhaenyra didn't just use him for sexual pleasure, that he wasn't just an object or someone to discard, he believed that she loved him.
But none of that was true.
The events that followed along were obvious, she was married off to Laenor, and recently returned to the keep, pregnant with her fourth child.
It was only then Criston noticed the eldest child.
You.
He tried to think you were the same as Jacaerys and Lucerys, a rumoured bastard born to Ser Harwin Strong, Anyone can easily mistake you for his child itself, but not Criston.
The timing did not add up.
And neither did your features resemble Harwin Strong's.
Dark hair and dark eyes.
Features of him.
There was only one answer, and he wanted to be sure himself.
Which is what led him to visit Rhaenyra, something he would've never done in a thousand years to come.
He sighed heavily, knocking on the door, the guard allotted to her chamber looked at him suspiciously before announcing his presence, to say Rhaenyra was shocked is an understatement, she immediately opened the door, a hand resting on her stomach.
“Ser Criston.”
“Princess.” he greets her by bowing his head.
“Princess- I must speak with you, if you'll allow it.” his tone told her everything, and she looked around, before signalling Laenor, who was in the room, to take the boys to the training yard while she let him in.
He tried not to remember the last time, of what happened when he was with her.
“What is the issue?” she asks him, not wasting anymore time.
“Might I speak plainly, princess?” he asks, face stoic, he looks at him for a moment before nodding, and he takes a deep breath.
“Is she mine?”
Silence falls in between both of them, the way she clenches her jaw doesn't go unnoticed by him, and he clenches his teeth as he swallows thickly, bracing himself for the answer.
He already knew it.
He just needed confirmation.
“Yes.”
And that was enough to send all the waves crashing down on him, he stood there, breathing heavily, it felt as though there had been even more weight placed upon him, more than before.
He looks down, and bows.
“Thank you for your honesty, princess.” He says, “Ser Criston, please do not let this get out.” she pleads to him and he thinks for a moment. “Rest assured princess, I will not speak of this to anyone, for it will sully my reputation as it will do yours.” he says sternly and turns on his feet to leave.
His walk down to the training yard was swift, he was behind his allotted time to train the young princes due to this ordeal, yet he couldn't bring himself to care, all he could think about was you.
He stopped in his tracks down the stairs when he spotted you with your younger brothers, playing around with the wooden sword, they were clearly not training since he was their main instructor, just playing around.
He noticed how you smiled brightly, pretending to stab Jace and he fell, committing to his act of being stabbed by you, “Oh no more princess! I beg your mercy.” he played pretend, which made you giggle.
Then you heard a scoff.
You turned to see who it was, only to find your uncle, Aemond, looking at you with raised eyebrows as if he was judging you.
He was.
“Girls aren't allowed to train here.” he simply says, shifting his weight onto his right leg as he relaxes his grip on the sword before holding it placed down in front of him, leaning both his hands against it.
You furrow your brows, opening your mouth to speak up and reply to him but you are immediately cut off by Criston cole.
“Don't stand too upright my prince, you'll get knocked down.” he interferes with an advice for him, and you close your mouth before giving the wooden sword to Jacaerys.
“Ser Criston, May I stay and watch?” You ask him, eyes wide and pleading.
Normally he would refuse.
Normally.
But this situation was anything but normal.
“I already told you, girls are not allowed here–”
“Yes you may, princess.” He cuts Aemond off, and Aemond rolls his eyes while you smile widely at Criston, “But for your safety, please stand far away.” He tells you and you nod, immediately standing as far as possible.
Criston sighs before beginning the training for the boys.
It has almost become a routine for you, watching them train, Criston allowed you to stay and watch, much to everyone's surprise.
You had been hanging out with the boys, using the excuse of keeping a watch over your younger brothers as an excuse, Aemond did not like this however.
This obviously meant you were spending more time with Criston, it was fun being around him, when the boys would warm up for their training he would occasionally tell you about his achievements.
He has no idea why he's doing all of that, he could just ignore you, but he couldn't bring himself to.
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It was a fine day, you were in the dragonpit with your brothers and uncles, Jace was learning new commands for his dragon, and you watched boredly, not understanding the obsession with dragons, you did not have one of your own, but you did not care.
Everything was going well, till you noticed Aemond, looking annoyed and wanting to be anywhere else but here, you obviously knew about his obsessions with wanting a dragon, it wasn't unknown.
The young prince's egg never hatched, leaving him without a dragon. You felt bad, knowing it must be tough to be the only one who has no dragon to ride, except you, but you had long given up the idea of wanting a dragon and accepted that you might not ever have one.
His public interest and the desire for always wanting a dragon so badly was what led to this moment, which altered him forever.
Aegon, Jace and Luke decided that it would be funny to mock him.
So they dressed up a pig and presented it to him, pretending it is a dragon while laughing loudly.
You did not find the situation funny at all, your brothers both laughed cruelly, along with Aegon who made the pig noises, you couldn't even bring yourself to let out an awkward chuckle, because you knew how this situation was incredibly mean.
Aemond obviously wasn't laughing, instead he stared at the pig before swallowing thickly, blinking rapidly, you remained silent, observing him. Prince Aegon left whilst mocking him, laughing along with your brothers and exiting the pit while you stayed back, and watched Aemond, who just seemed to be staring at the pig.
“Uncle? I-”
“Don't.” He cuts you off, his voice trembling, as if he was moments away from crying.
He was.
“Aemond.” You stand next to him, you watch as he shoots a glare at you, gritting his teeth.
“Are you here to rub salt on the wound?” His voice was laced with venom and hatred even though it was trembling.
“Why are you always speaking to me like that? I've never been anything but nice to you. Let me guess, you are going to assume that it was I who planned this as well?” You snap, words spilling out of your mouth before you could stop them, his eyes widened.
“I wouldn't be surprised if it was you, after all, it would be your way of getting back at me.” He shakes his head.
“I would never do that to you.” you mumble, which causes his eyebrows to raise slightly in surprise, “I know- well at least I think I do know- what it feels like to not have a dragon, mine didn't hatch either, Aemond.” you try to comfort him.
“It is just that, I simply do not care, I've accepted it.” You shrug, and he scoffs, “A true Targaryen is to have a dragon, I can understand why it wouldn't hatch for you- cause you're... plain.” He stops himself mid sentence, clearing his throat. You look down, fidgeting with your fingers as the air turns awkward, you expected Aemond to leave but he instead stays.
“I- I did not mean it that way, I simply meant that we are both different individuals, not having a dragon might not bother you, but it bothers me, it is a big deal for me, especially if even someone who is a wastrel like my brother has one.” He speaks up and you look at him, maintaining eye contact with him.
You don't know what came over you, but you suddenly grab his hands and hold them tight, “You will have a dragon one day.” you reassure him and he looks down, “You think so?” He asks and you nod, “I'm sure of it.” You smile but he doesn't return that smile.
He simply grabs your hand before turning around and leaving the dragonpit.
To say things changed between you and Aemond since that day would be an overstatement, his behaviour towards you remained the same, except this time it feels as though he is purposefully saying hurtful things, to get a reaction from you.
Is this what you get for being kind?
Yes.
But something did slightly change.
It was the way Aemond looked at you.
He might be mean, but he immediately comes to your defence when it is not him who is doing the mockery.
You learnt it when Aegon was mocking you and Aemond stepped in, defending you, same with your brothers, who would sometimes crack jokes that would be way too over the line, only to have Aemond shut them down.
You had mixed feelings about this.
It was a normal training day, you watched as Criston trained the boys, deciding to focus more on Aegon and Aemond instead of Jace and Luke, but it didn't matter since they were also learning along.
Until a certain presence had come in.
Harwin Strong.
You watched the interaction happen, the air became intense as Criston felt insulted, not wishing to take any criticism from someone from city watch.
Then they fought, Harwin threw punches at Cristons face until he was stopped by the guards, “You act as if you're any better, your attention towards the princess is also quite the unique thing.” Is what Harwin slowly said on top of him, but everyone was too scared and focused on the fight to stop to even care.
Things started to go downhill from then onwards.
Aemond and you have gotten slightly closer and things seemed to be less intense between you both, that was until your mother whisked you and your siblings away to dragonstone.
Criston was devastated, angry but he couldn't do anything about it, nor stop it.
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Until driftmark.
He got to see you again, you stood there beside rhaenyra and your siblings watching as the funeral progressed, and clearly understanding the venomous words Vaemond aimed at your family.
Criston fought the urge to leave Alicents side and instead spend it with you, he wants to be closer to you, he wants you to remember him, maybe one day you'll even find out that he is your father, and when you do, he doesn't want you to be disappointed in him.
He made many plans, that if everything went well then your family would visit the keep often.
Of course until Lucerys took Aemond's eye.
He knew the drift between both sides of the family was clearer than ever, especially after Alicent lunged at Rhaenyra in anger with a knife.
Aemond did his best to interfere.
To everyone's surprise, when you came to realise what happened, you immediately sped to Aemond's side, and looked at his face before wincing at the raw sight, he was holding his mother before he turned and his gaze fell upon you.
Your lips trembled slightly as you looked at him softly and with pity, but he didn't return anything back, not even a scowl.
And that would be your last interaction with Aemond, or anyone on that side of that family at all.
Up until years later.
Many years have passed, and Criston tried to forget about everything, but he couldn't. Instead, as the years went by, he grew more worried but curious, he wondered if you'd grown into a woman, he wondered if you look even more like him now.
Luckily all his questions would be answered when he found out that your family would be returning to the keep, as Vaemond had made a petition against Lucerys.
Aemond was far too excited to see you too again, he remembers taking nothing but pleasure in the expressions you'd make when he'd be mean to you, they were forever etched into his memory.
Since the incident from the driftmark, Aemond grew into a much more calculated yet even more mean of a person, his words would be laced towards venom against the ones he despised, dripping ever so sweetly from his tongue.
Your arrival was anticipated by both the men patiently.
And day had arrived just like they hoped, you stepped into the walls of the red keep once again, yet everything seemed to lose its familiarity with the family sigils being replaced to that of the seven.
You did not come across both of them till the next day, until you went into the training yard with your brothers, you watched as they reminisced and smiled, you looked over the spot you always stood whenever you would watch them train, the spot looking smaller since you've grown in height.
However you felt the stares of the people prod at your back and you looked at them to see all of them whispering about your and your siblings obviously non valyrian features.
You try not to let it get to you, and distract Luke from the judgemental gazes, considering how he's already been feeling insecure due to the petition.
That was until you heard a noise in the background, and watched as the people gathered in a shape resembling a circle, you quickly patted Jace and Luke and gestured to them to come with you to watch what was going on.
You immediately spotted the familiar face of Ser Criston Cole, making a wide smile appear on your face as you watched him sway his weapon against who you weren't sure was Aegon or Aemond as the back was turned.
Ser Criston hasn't changed since the last time you saw him, you watch as he swung his weapon towards the Prince, and he countered that attack and blocked it with his sword, causing Criston to withdraw his weapon and take the Prince's previous spot, which lead to the Prince now facing you.
You immediately recognized him the moment you spotted that eyepatch, sitting snugly over his left eye.
Aemond.
Something about seeing him like that made heat travel down your body, is this what they call desire? You swallow thickly. He has indeed grown into a very handsome man, the loss of his did nothing but elevate his looks even further.
The trial match soon came to an end, with Aemond's blade pointing towards Criston's collarbones.
“Well done my Prince, you'll be winning tourneys in no time.” Criston praises, “I don't give a shit about tourneys.” Aemond answers while regulating his breathing, his grip loosens on the sword as his eye lands on you and your siblings, “Nephews,” the sword in his hand is spun slightly as he lowers it, “'Have you come to train?” he asks and that's when Criston's attention turns towards you and his eyes widens.
Jace's throat tightens as he tries to form a reply, not expecting Aemond to be this well trained over the years.
“Niece.” Aemond addresses you next and you look at him, “It has been a while.” He comments, his eye scanning your figure from toe to head, before his lips twitch, forming into a smirk.
“It has, Aem— Uncle.” you reply, cutting yourself off before you spoke his name.
“Princess.” Criston greets you and you smile, “Ser Criston, It is a pleasure to see you again.” you tell him and he nods, giving you a tight lipped smile. He's noticed how you resemble him even more now, which makes him happy but also fear.
“OPEN THE GATES!” you hear a distant voice yell and watch as the gates open.
Vaemond Velaryon enters the premises with guards around him, the chatter and everything falls to silence as the only noise now that can be heard are the footsteps of the guards as they accompany him.
The way he looks at Luke doesn't go unnoticed, causing already shaken up Luke to shiver further in fear, but you hold his hand, reassuring him.
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You travel to your chambers patiently and prepare yourselves for the court hearing that would likely be held in a few hours, you sit down and pace around the chambers that were given to you when you had arrived here.
You hear the sound of a stone sliding in your chambers and you turn around to see none other than your uncle aemond emerging from behind a tapestry in the chamber.
“Aemond? What are you doing here? You shouldn't enter a lady's room like that.” You question him, calling him by his name instead of uncle like you did earlier.
He makes his way over to you, his presence was intimidating as he looked over to you. “Pardon my rudeness but how can I contain myself when my niece, who I haven't seen for the past few years appears in front of me?” He quirks up an eyebrow, his eye scans your figure once again, but this time, his gaze lingering more on your breasts before he meets your eyes once again.
“Especially when she's all grown?”
“When the object of both my desire and ire is right in front of me, how can I not?” His hands rest on your hips, and your mouth falls open.
“You are being inappropriate-” You protest.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you did not feel something when you first saw me.”
Fuck.
You thought you covered it well.
“What? Did I catch the cat in the act?” He mocks you and you glare at him, one of his hands travels to your cheek, tilting your head upwards before he descends his lips on your own.
You're shocked at what he's doing, but you don't protest, your mind becomes hazy as he continues kissing you, lips moving against yours in a rhythm, he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip, asking for entrance and to your own surprise, you allow him to by slightly parting your lips open.
The kiss elevates further from there, his tongue fighting against yours as you kiss him back, your hands grip his shoulders as leverage while his own grab your waist pulling you close, it gets rougher, hungrier but more passionate.
He pulls away for air looking at you while breathing heavily, you hold him by the face and pull him into a kiss again and he returns it immediately.
Your head spins as Aemond walks you backward until your back comes in contact with a wall, his grip tightens on you further, he pins your hands above your head as pulls away, and you look at him with pleading eyes, your lips swollen from the kiss.
“Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful for a bastard.” He comments and you frown, “Everyone knows, they just don't say it in front of you.” He says meanly, “I could have your tongue for that.” You threaten him but he smirks, “Hmm? Really?” He mockingly questions and you try to glare at him, but it doesn't seem much threatening.
His free hand hikes your skirts up, and travels upwards to your cunt, you gasp when you feel his cool fingers press up against your clit, then travel slightly downwards where your wetness was beginning to leak from.
“Don't fucking tell me you're getting wet all because I called you a bastard?” He questions, and you try to deny it but your body betrays you by making you clench your thighs together in arousal, he chuckles meanly and you bite your lip to try and fight the humiliation you are feeling.
“You seem to like it when I'm fucking mean to you, don't you? Seriously, you're getting wet from this.” You heave when you feel him pinch your clit, pulling on it meanly, causing you to squirm.
“Yes, yes you fucking do.” He growls.
“Aemond-” You choke out his name and he replies with a hum, “Hm?” He peppers kisses against your neck as you try to form sentences but you cannot seem to do so because of the way his fingers are rubbing small circles onto your clitoris.
“We s-shouldn't— it's unseemly of us oh–? ahh—! fuck.” You throw your head back against the wall when you feel him insert a finger into your awaiting entrance, He slowly moves it in and out, he lets go of your hands which were pinned to the wall, causing them to immediately fall on his shoulders in an attempt to balance yourself.
His free hand trails down to your bodice, he pulls the material down, freeing your breasts, he mutters a curse before peppering kisses to the flesh, and biting harshly which chokes out a whine from your throat. He pulls away and watches as the shape of his teeth get imprinted into the flesh of your breast, marking you.
His mouth then descends onto your nipple, you let out a loud and a lewd moan when you feel his finger curl up and hit the sweet spot inside of you while simultaneously his tongue flicks and plays with your bud.
He inserts another finger inside slowly, stretching you on them and your grip on his shoulder tightens, nails digging into the material of his clothes.
“Are you a maiden?” He asks you suddenly, pulling away from your nipple and you look at him for a second, processing what he said before nodding shyly, which causes him to smirk. “No wonder why you are clenching around my fingers so tightly, Relax.”
He speeds up his pace, hitting the sweet spot over and over again, you clench your eyes shut when you feel a type of tightening begin to form into your lower abdomen.
“Open your eyes.” He commands, you obey and look him directly in the eye, “Good, I want you to look at me when you peak.” He kisses your cheek, and as if right on cue, your orgasm hits you like a sudden storm.
Everything around you feels hot as the pleasure ripples through your entire being, making you moan his name out loud.
He slowly pumps his fingers in and out, letting you ride your orgasm out before placing a kiss to your lips and pulling his fingers out, letting your skirts fall back to place again, and puts the same fingers in his mouth, licking up the evidence of your essence, a satisfactory hum leaves his mouth.
Before he could advance any further, there is a knock on your chamber door, before he watches it slightly open, quick on his feet, he swiftly leaves your chambers through the secret passageway, and you try to fix your clothing, pulling up the material back up to your breasts and patting down your hair.
You watch as the knight enters your chamber and bows to you, “Princess, the court session is about to take place, your presence has been requested.” he tells you and nods, clearing your throat, “I shall be there.” He bows his head before leaving the room and you quickly fix up your appearances before leaving your chambers.
Heart racing at the thought that you both would've been caught if you hadn't reacted quickly.
Aemond, in an attempt to move to his chambers quickly, accidentally took the wrong route and ended up on the path to the small council room, which he figured out when he heard the voices of his mother and Ser criston.
“What do you mean by this criston?” He was about to turn back but halts when he hears his mother talk. “I have noticed your attention on the eldest daughter of rhaenyra, are you infatuated with her?” Alicent asks plainly, voice laced with concern. “No- my queen, she-” Aemond hears Criston sigh, “I suppose I cannot hide it any longer.” This makes Aemond grit his teeth, did Criston actually like you? He couldn't let Criston have you.
“She is my daughter.”
“What?”
What?
Aemond's eye widens as he hears those words leave his mouth, and Alicent is shocked as well. “How long have you known this for?” Alicent questions, “For many years, few months before driftmark.” He tells her, “I apologise my queen, I should've told you it immediately but- I was concerned for her safety.” He confesses and bows his head in shame.
“All is forgiven Ser Criston, Was this from the time you had laid with rhaenyra?” She continues to ask and he nods, “I am glad it is just that, because I plan to betroth Aemond to her, and with what you've just revealed to me, I think I can confidently go through with this.” She tells Criston of her plans, and this satisfies Aemond very much, but there is the fact that he cannot look at you the same anymore, for you were the daughter of someone who was his father figure his entire life.
Besides, he wondered what would Cristons reaction be if he found out what Aemond actually did to you mere moments ago.
“Prince Aemond? Your grace, I do not question your decision, but they don't seem very close, from what I remember, he had always seemed quite rude towards her.” Criston speaks up, he tries not to show the distaste for the choice as he has no say in this, because he cannot rightfully claim you as his daughter. “They will make up eventually, they're both grown ups now, I'm sure they'd put their childish quarrels aside.” Alicent answers him, Criston bites his lip, preventing himself from saying anything. “Besides, she is next in line to the throne, I know there will be complications if we crowned aegon, so we'll retreat and let Rhaenyra rule, after that, Y/N will ascend, at first I was reluctant to have a bastard on the throne, but I changed my mind after your confession.” Alicent reveals her true motives to him which makes Criston internally punch himself for revealing that, he still thinks Aemond isn't the right man for you.
“It is not uncommon knowing that after their marriage- she will eventually give birth to Aemond's children, his heirs, our blood, and they will definitely inherit the throne right after her, putting our blood on the throne.” Criston nods as he listens to Alicent speak.
They fall silent for a bit thinking through it.
“My Queen, the court session is starting.” A guard comes inside the council to inform her, Aemond immediately goes back to his room before cleaning and composing himself and then making his way to the throne room.
The court session was progressing, with Vaemond backing up his reasons to sign a petition against Lucerys, and everyone in court listened intently.
But Aemond's attention is somewhere else, on you, who is currently squirming under his gaze, trying to avoid it, this makes Aemond smirk a little, with all he had overheard from his mother, he could only think of one thing.
You bearing his heirs.
How amazing you'd look with your stomach swollen, carrying his seed deep inside you, this thought alone makes his cock ache.
It was one boring session, until Viserys arrived, and knowing Vaemond had nothing to lose anymore, considering he already lost, he chose to direct vile insults towards you, your brothers and your mother, which led to Vaemond's head partially being cut off by Daemon.
This shocked everyone and Viserys fell weakly onto the chair.
“And one more final— hh. thing.” He wheezes out, “The queen- has proposed a. be- be-brothal between Aemond and Y/N, w-w-which. i. hh accept, it is a perfect way to reunite our drifted houses.” He manages to get the words out. Your gaze turns towards Aemond whose smile just got bigger and you look away immediately blush creeping up your cheeks, frankly, all you could think about was his fingers inside you.
Viserys ends up having a coughing fit, which causes Alicent to panic and scream for the maesters.
Viserys doesn't seem to have left more than a few moons to survive, so they plan a wedding in one moons time, to have the king witness it before he dies, and also so that Rhaenyra can't go back and change her decision.
Dinner that night went peacefully, with Aemond right beside you, Aemond was too focused on you to the point he didn't notice how Lucerys chuckled when the pig had come in, you did, so you shot him a stern but warning gaze, which made him shut up.
You were back in your chambers again, the maids undid your hair, letting it fall freely and got you ready into your bed clothes, you decided to sit by the fire and read a book when you heard the familiar sound of a stone sliding again.
You lifted your head and found Aemond, also in his bed clothes who was coming towards where you sat, “What are you reading?” He asks and before you can close the book, he snatches it from you and views it.
“A caution for young girls?” The name alone is enough to make blush creep up your cheeks, “If I remember correctly, isn't this book forbidden?” He teases and you get up from your seat and grab the book from his hand, turning away from him before placing it on the table.
“What do you want?” You ask, not bothering to turn back.
His arms snake around your waist and wrapping them around it, he nuzzles his nose into the back of your neck and places kisses on it, “I think you know what I want very well.” He mutters, still kissing your neck.
“I'm afraid I don't.” You try to play clueless, not wanting to react to what he's saying but all of that comes crumbling down when he gropes your breast before squeezing it tightly. “Don't you?” He questions and turns you to make you face him.
His hand moves to your cheek, “You want me to remind you? Where we left off?” He asks and you stare into his eye, not speaking anything, trying to deny him. That doesn't last long when he presses his lips against yours, and once again you're kissing him back, he is just so addictive.
He suddenly pulls away, and throws you over his shoulder, catching you off guard and makes his way towards your bed before throwing you on it, causing you to bounce slightly.
“I cannot hold back anymore.” He hovers over your form, trying to contain himself, “Don't.” that one singular word leaving his mouth was enough to break his restraint, and before you know it, he's on top of you kissing your face, neck, breasts as he paws at your nightgown, trying to remove it off you.
Frustrated, he tears it off your body, ripping it into shreds before throwing the fallen pieces away.
Your body is in full view to him now, you feel so vulnerable yet aroused, you rub your thighs together to soothe the ache forming in between them. “Spread them.” He speaks and you're confused until you realise he means your legs, you feel ashamed to do so. “Did you not hear me? Spread those fucking legs.” His voice becomes impatient now, causing you to spread your legs.
You lay there, humiliation poking every inch of your body as he remains silent, staring at your cunt, you shiver when you feel the cold breeze hit your core, and then suddenly Aemond moves swiftly, giving you not enough time to realise what he was doing.
“Wha—” your question is cut off short when you feel his warm mouth on your sex, making you shriek in surprise when his tongue laps at your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves up and down, “Seven fucking hells, you taste divine.” he mutters against your cunt before devouring it once more, his tongue prods at your entrance, before entering inside you, whenever he moved, his nose would bump against your clit causing stimulation.
He suddenly pulls away and lays down next to you before pulling you on top of him, you end up straddling his waist and lay your arms on his chest as support. “Sit on my face.” He demands, “But-”
“Did I fucking stutter? Sit. On. My. Face.” He growls and cuts you off, making you shiver and you obey him changing positions to where your cunt is hovering right above his mouth, his warm breath hitting it.
He grabs your thighs harshly, annoyed at your reluctance and pushes your cunt into his mouth before lapping at it like a man starved, you throw your head back at the pleasure.
You move your hips unknowingly to aid your building pleasure, and it is when he nips at your clit that you feel your peak coursing through your lower body, you choke out a moan of his name.
He once again changes position by laying you on your back and moving up a little, his lips meet yours again, and you wince at the tangy taste of your own juices.
Aemond pulls away, “Gosh, I can't believe a bastard like you has me fucking cunt struck.” He whispers in your ear, “D-don't call me that.” you tell him, “But you seemed to to fucking like it earlier.” You stay quiet to that, not wanting to admit it.
“I know of your tastes my lovely niece, do you even know who your father is?” He asks and you shake your head no, “It's Ser Criston Cole.” He tells you and you look at him shocked, “I overheard him talking to my mother earlier, how does it feel? Lady Cole?” and you remain quiet.
Ser Criston Cole was your father?
It all made sense now.
“But enough of that, your attention should be on me.” He grabs you by your cheeks, squeezing them, “My dirty little whore of a bastard, with a cunt so divine that it puts gods to shame.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself, letting me do all of this to you, do you have no dignity? you're crumbling the moment I try to do something.” He says meanly and tears prick at the corner of your eyes, it wasn't anything new, he had always been this way, ever since he was young, you knew this was humiliating, you knew this was insulting, seven hells, you're even almost crying at his words, yet you can't help but get wet at everything he's saying.
“You're mine, you have always been mine, got it? mine to mock, push you around, fuck, breed and do whatever as I please.” He growls, you lay there and nod, “Gods, it feels so good to be so mean to you, I hate to admit it, but I love seeing you cry.” He wipes the tear that has escaped your eye with his thumb before putting the very same thumb into his mouth and tasting it.
He pushes you further up the bed, before he sits back, he undoes his breeches, and pulls it off along with his tunic, leaving him bare just like you, and you swore that the gods favoured him much more than others, his body seemed as if it was sculpted and moulded personally by the smith himself.
He spreads your legs wide before placing himself between them, his cock rubbing against your folds, “Do you want my cock so bad? Your cunt is fucking weeping for it.” He questions and you nod, “Use your words.” He orders you, and you swallow, “I want your cock.” You speak slowly.
“Beg for it.” He smirks when he sees your eyes widen, and you take a deep breath, trying to form words, he taps your clit with his cock causing you to squirm, “Please-” You managed to choke out. “Please what?”
“Please—! Please I want your cock inside me so fucking badly.” You say, and that is enough for Aemond before he positions his tip at your entrance. “This is going to hurt okay?” He tells you, and you nod.
And gods did it hurt.
His cock was too big, the stretch was unbearably painful, yet Aemond was patient, pushing in slowly and slowly until he was fully sheathed, it took him every grain of control to not start ramming into you like a wild beast, especially the way your cunt was clenching around him, he breathed heavily, letting you relax and adjust to him.
“I'm going to move, stop me if it's too painful.” He tells you and you stare at him, “I thought you found joy in my pain.” you mutter which makes him chuckle, “I do, but even i have my limits, and this is where I draw the line.” He tells you, which makes you smile, “You can move now, Uncle.” you tease and he grits his teeth before drawing his hips back and thrusting into you harshly, you wince as the first few thrusts cause you slight pain, until you relax and eventually get used to it, and slowly get pleasure from it.
But this pace wasn't enough.
“Faster- Aemond–” You heave out as your body jerks up and down beneath, and just like you pleaded, he swiftly increases the speed. “You're a filthy fucking bastard, you know that?” Aemond sneers at you, grabbing you by the cheeks as he brutally thrusts into you. “Answer me.” he groans into your ear and you nod, earning a light slap from him on your cheeks, “With words.” he growls.
“Yes, I- know!” you moan when you feel the tip of his cock hit the sweet spot, hands gripping the linen sheets tightly as he bullies your hole. “And who does this filthy bastard belong to?” He asks, sickeningly sweet, hands leaving your cheek to grip at your breast, twirling your nipple in between his thumb and index finger.
“Y-You.” You gasp when you feel his hand trail down to your cunt and press up against your bundle of nerves before rubbing small and gentle circles on it, elevating your pleasure. “Good girl, you're so good for me, aren't you? Good for your uncle, you'll let me breed you right?”
“Hmm–! Yes! I'll let you breed me– oh fuck right there– yes–” You throw your head back against the bed as you feel him hitting and ramming into your sweet spot again and again and before you know it, your peak is ripped through you brutally, causing you to clench around his cock, making him moan loudly.
“Fuck-” and with a gasp, Aemond finishes inside you, his hot spend coating your inner walls, creating a warm feeling, he slowly rides his orgasm out, staying in until his cock begins to soften.
“You'll look so beautiful with my children, your breasts will swell with milk, and I'll indulge myself in them, because you're mine, you belong to me and I shall do as I please with you, and you'll let me right?” He asks and you nod, “Such a fucking pretty bastard, and my soon to be wife.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.
He pulls you into his arms and you both fall asleep, too tired to even clean up because of the eventful day.
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A month later.
To say Criston was disappointed would be an understatement, he didn't hate Aemond, but he didn't like him to the point where he would watch his only child, that too who he cannot claim openly, be wedded off to him.
But at least you look happy and content with him.
After the vows were said and you were officially declared as Aemond's wife, Criston left the scene not being able to control his emotions, he stood at the very same place where he almost took his life, gazing up into the sky, “Ser Criston?” He heard your voice and immediately turned to you, “Princess.” He bows, “You can drop the formalities.” You tell him with a smile and he looks at you questioningly, “Fathers shouldn't be formal with their daughters after all.” You explain and his eye widens before he looks around to see if anyone heard that.
“You- know it?” He chokes, not being able to hold back his tears anymore. You nod “Aemond told me.” You tell him, and he immediately hugs you and you return the hug, “I am sorry, I failed you, but I had my own reasons, even then, I still apologise, I wish I had been there for you more.” He cries and you pull away from the hug, “It is fine, I can understand.” you reassure him and he smiles at you.
Everything seemed to have ended happily.
Though there was that one thought which Criston had that was immediately forgotten when you pulled him back to the wedding.
How did Aemond even come to know of it?
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— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
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t1oui · 3 months ago
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going to school and being friends with percy jackson would be REALLY WEIRD so let's discuss it rq
he gets dropped off every day in his stepfather's car, which inexplicably has hoof prints on the hood?
the panic attacks... there's a lot of them, and nobody can even tell what's triggering them at this point
the old counselor disappears about a week into his first year at AHS (here's some cotg lore for yall) and is replaced by a weird lady who finds a way to bring percy up to every. single. student. who visits her office.
randomly disappears multiple times throughout the year
very very sea green eyes and a gray streak in his hair
once got out of the pool after swim practice and was completely dry (he insists it was a trick of the light)
the blue food obsession ofc
talks about his girlfriend annabeth all the time... even his friends are convinced it's a "my canadian girlfriend" situation bc he never calls her. he doesn't even have a PHONE
always carries around a pen in his pocket and even though it's just a shitty old ballpoint, NOBODY IS ALLOWED TO TOUCH IT. also he never uses it. ever.
every teacher has sent an email with their concerns about him to the counselor and when that doesn't work to his parents. the responses are always very awkward and vague
talks about his bio dad a lot... never explicitly negative but bro clearly has daddy issues lol
will sometimes randomly mention camp/war/gods and then brush it off like it never happened
absolutely vibrated in his seat the entirety of the greek mythology unit... told the teacher "a demigod named perseus fought ares once" and the teacher just assumes he means the og (aka the one he's named after)
that one upbeat popular guy everybody knows absolutely nothing about, his friends included
they probably have a spreadsheet with all the info they actually DO know about him
finds a way to brag about his mom in every conversation no matter how irrelevant... his friends are used to it atp
everyone's so used to seeing him smiling and laughing that when, say, he catches a younger kid being bullied, it's actually terrifying to see how angry he gets. everybody in that hallway gets chills
there's something off about him and nobody can tell what. that's just how he is
sometimes weird people in weird outfits are hanging around the school and they're ALWAYS looking for him.
every time someone asks what college he's going to he gives a different answer or straight up avoids answering so nobody actually knows
(if he says a school and someone is like "omg me too" he changes his answer right then and there lol... he's like "oh nvm i forgot i'm actually going here my bad" and the person is so confused)
nobody ever sees him working on college applications but he complains about having to do them all the time... bro is like "yeah i had to go through a sewer system but at least my girlfriend and my best friend were there" and his friends are like yo HUH
never explains anything he says
presentation night presentation = all the shittiest things my family has done and he's laughing about it but wdym your aunt kidnapped you and gave you amnesia???
sometimes he's getting fed up with a teacher or another student and a pipe randomly bursts in the school. like it's weird how often his anger ends in a plumber being called when he's nowhere near the problem
where everyone else is excited to watch a movie and chill in class, percy complains through the entirety of hercules - not just "oh this movie sucks", more like "god hercules is such a dick, idk why they made him chill in this movie"
the weirdest part is how, when percy complains about zeus being a good dad in the movie, it starts thundering outside
nobody can keep track of how many schools he's been to at this point... there's a whole section of the spreadsheet for this
when percy's friends finally meet annabeth they are SHOOK bc they truly did not think this girl was real
alright i can't think of anything else but if i DO i will add on later
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jadewritesficshere · 5 months ago
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Slow and Steady
Steve Harrington x female!reader
Summary: You're ready for your first time with your boyfriend but are nervous based on past experiences. Steve is determined to make you feel good (3-5k words my computer broke around 1500 so I finished this on Tumblr dont know exact word count)
Contains: pure smut, reader has vaginismus (not explicitly named in the fic), talks of anxiety/nerves/doubt, fingering, cumplay, p in v, no condoms please wrap it up, creampie, pet names (Steve calls you Baby)
please note I am not a doctor. This is based on how sex is for me, not every two experiences are the same
18+ only
You sigh in pleasure. Steve is kissing your jaw, sucking lightly at your pulse that's beating wildly for him. You can feel a rush of tingling warmth spread from your spine to your lower stomach. Your hands roaming up and down his shoulders, trying to memorize the contours of his muscles. The way his hand squeezes your hip as if you would drift away if he let go.
Steve sighs, pressing his forehead into your cheek before giving you a final kiss and starting to pull back. You whine, gripping his biceps. "Steve don't! Plea- keep going!" You aren't sure you're fully making sense as your thoughts are only Steve Steve Steve. "Baby, I don't want to get carried away without talking first," Steve cups the side of your face with his hand, thumb lightly moving back and forth over your cheekbone.
"I want to make sure you're ready," Steve says looking deep into your eyes. You look away, feeling ashamed. You shouldn't be, you know this. But that doesn't stop that feeling from welling up.
You remember the first time you had sex, how much it hurt. But people told you that was normal, that it's better the next time because you weren't a virgin anymore. But that time hurt like hell too. And the next. And the next. Like you were being ripped apart, like there was something wrong.
And then your doctor told you the name of it and how some women had it. Said there were ways to work around it and work through it, but it was like cotton in your ears. All you heard was there was something wrong with you. You know there isn't, but your deceitful mind tells you there is. And now you tense up as things start to progress, making things worse unintentionally. All you could think was, 'well no one would want to work through it since no one else has before.'
But then Steve came in and tore all your defenses down. Weasled his way in with stupid pickup lines and free car rides. Rolled his eyes and gave you a 'are you seeing this?' look as he bickered with the kids before sighing dramatically and giving them what they wanted. Would wear a stupid apron when he cooked and would sneak food off his plate onto yours to make sure you had enough. You didn't stand a chance.
When Steve made out with you for the first time you wanted to cry. Thought "well this is it. He's going to leave like the rest after this." But when you stopped him, he didn't pout. He didn't roll his eyes or gripe at you, claim you led him on. Didn't try to force the issue. Steve took your no as a no and asked no questions, just pulled back smiled at you with a bulge in his pants and asked if you wanted to choose the movie now.
You broke down in tears as he tried to comfort you. And you told him everything. About how it hurt and had never been enjoyable for you. How you were scared it would hurt again. How you really liked Steve and wanted to do it with him but didn't want to disappoint him like the others. How you didn't want him to leave like the others.
And Steve let you cry into his shirt. And Steve calmed you and told you, "I'm sorry they never took care of you the way you deserve to be taken care of. If you never want to have sex, we don't have to. I love you regardless of sex, I mean yeah it would be fun and I'd like to, but like- if you aren't having a good time I don't want to do it. If you do want to try, Baby, we can take it really slow. Slow and steady. But I don't want you to feel pressured to have sex, we don't need it. If you want it we can and if you never want it we don't have to."
It was like a balm to your soul. Aloe vera on a burn you didn't realize still stung. Just knowing Steve cared enough to not call it quits made you feel desired. But that little lying voice in your head said he'd get upset and move on.
But months passed and Steve stayed. Lovely, caring Steve. Steve who held your hand and proclaimed it was a perfect fit. Steve who kissed you so sweetly, following your lead. Steve who never protested or became frustrated when you stopped things from furthering on. Steve who would help you slip your shirt back on and hold you close after making out. Steve who never once complained about "leading him on" like others have.
Steve who was the first to say," I love you," and never pushed you to say it back. Steve who bought your favorite books and tried to read them so he could have another bond with you. Steve who always knew what to say to brighten your day. The Steve who showed he loved you in every little way he cared for you.
A hand on your face snaps you back to the moment. Steve frowns slightly," You okay? You went somewhere for a minute." You shrug," Got lost in my thoughts." Steve's eyes bore into your own, as if trying to see into your mind. "If you want to stop here, we can-" "No!" You interrupt, running a hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck.
Steve pauses, waiting on you. "I want to continue. I'm just...nervous? They say relax, but then how do they expect me to relax when I know how its been in the past? And then I get tense because I'm nervous and then I'm nervous because I'm tense and then-" Steve cuts you off with a kiss. Your eyes flutter shut as he gently kisses you. It's so tender and sweet, you can practically feel the cavities forming from how sweet it is.
Steve pulls back enough to say," If anything is uncomfortable or hurts you tell me okay? If you want to stop then you say it." You nod but Steve clicks his tongue," I need your words Baby." "Yeah, okay."
Steve kisses your forehead, murmuring an "I love you". He leans back enough to help you pull your dress off and over your head. "Fuck me," he whispers, mouth falling open. Any thoughts of cowering or hiding yourself melt away as his eyes further light up with lust. "Planning to," You grin.
Steve snorts as he laughs, shaking his head slightly before ripping his shirt off. You bite your lip as you look at Steve unabashedly. Usually you try to sneak peeks, like when he lifts his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead after a run. But now you can just look. You tentatively run a hand through his chest hair, causing him to shiver.
"Now here's what we're gonna do," Steve lightly palms himself over his jeans, groaning before speaking with a raspier tone," I'm going to take such good care of you. You're gonna take your underwear off and-"
You push your underwear down, kicking them off. Steve's jaw goes slack as he stares at your glistening cunt. "That all for me?" Steve asks. "All for you. I want you," You reach a hand out and press against his bulge, causing him to let out a whine before he grips your wrist. "Get comfortable Baby."
You lay back against the bed, relaxing into the pillows. "Now, you're gonna finger yourself." Steve instructs. You scoff," Didn't you just say you were gonna take care of me?" Steve smirks as he grabs your hand," Oh I will, but look," He holds his palm against yours," My fingers are so much bigger then yours."
It's shocking how big his hands are compared to yours. His fingers are longer and thicker then yours. You can feel yourself get wetter at the thought, but also a hint of nerves come back.
As if Steve has a glimpse into your mind, he slowly runs a hand up your shoulder to cup your face," There's no rush. I can do this all night. Slow and steady, remember?" Steve leans in and kisses you softly. You sigh into the kiss, slowly melding your mouth against his. The tip of his tongue traces your lip, leaving you begging for more.
Steve pulls back enough to whisper," Touch yourself," before trailing kisses to your jaw and neck. You can't suppress the shiver that runs through you as he hits that one spot. Steve lightly sucks on your neck as you slowly trail a hand down.
Your trembling (from nerves, excitement, or pleasure you can't tell) fingers slowly part your lips. You can feel how wet you are, starting to drip onto your thighs and under you. You slowly circle your clit, relaxing at the feeling of pleasure taking over. You moan softly as Steve continues to pepper your neck with kisses.
You lower your hand further, fingers tracing your entrance. You coat your fingers with your slick before slowly pushing your middle finger in. It doesn't hurt at the moment, but feels uncomfortable. Your brow furrows slightly, concern starting to come back. Steve is there though, kissing your forehead until you relax and using one of his large fingers to deftly circle your clit.
You pump your finger in and out, discomfort dissipating each time until you're reveling in the feeling. "There ya go," Steve murmurs reverently as your mouth falls open at how good it feels. Steve wraps his hand around your wrist, causing you to whine as he pulls your hand away.
Steve maneuvers your hand so only two fingers remain up before guiding them back to your pussy. "There you go Baby. Doing so well," Steve praises as you slowly insert the two fingers. It takes a second to adjust, to get used to the feeling.
But Steve distracts you by kissing down your chest. He reaches behind you and unsnaps your bra with one hand, the other grabbing your wrist and guiding you into a faster pace.
You let the bra straps fall down your arms, laying loosely. Steve peels your bra down and groans as your breasts sway slightly. "So fucking gorgeous," Steve groans," Doing so good." You don't even have a chance to warn him as you tumble over the edge of pleasure. You moan and gasp as you writhe against your hand. His tongue feels electrifying as he circles it around your nipple, finger circling your clit again.
You can barely hear Steve saying," That's my girl. Doing so well Baby." Your mouth is hanging open as you take in deep breaths. Warmth, euphoria, and ecstasy flow through your body freely. You come back to your body slowly, aware of Steve holding you hand, his thumb moving back and forth caressing your hand.
"My turn to touch you Baby," Steve growls out. You blink up at him a few times, still coming back down to earth. You nod as you remove your fingers. They glisten in the light from your wetness. Steve inhales sharply before darting forward, licking your fingers. You aren't sure if it was you or him who gasps, but Steve's mouth is suddenly surrounding your fingers.
Steve sucks and licks the wetness off your fingers. His eyes flutter shut as he moans. You can feel yourself getting more turned on as you watch Steve. Steve blearily opens his eyes, still sucking on your fingers. His eyes heavy with lust.
You gasp as Steve trails a finger through your folds, coating them in your release. Steve pulls off your fingers with a sudden pop, lips glistening from spit and cum. "You taste so fucking good Baby. Can't wait until I can bury my face in your pussy," Steve slowly inserts a finger as he speaks," But we'll save that for next time okay?"
His finger is definitely bigger then yours. It is slightly uncomfortable, but not painful. Steve redirects your attention by circling your nipple with his tongue again. With his free hand, he caresses and pulls the nipple he is currently not kissing and sucking on.
Steve adds a second finger once he's felt you fully relax against him. Once he's seen the unconscious tension in your shoulders go away. When he sees the clench of your jaw and your furrowed brow relax. Steve knows you have no clue you are doing this, but he is attentive and sees the signs.
When Steve adds a third finger is when you sharply inhale. Steve immediately pauses," Too much? What do you need?" "Just give me a minute," You try to steady your breathing. It doesn't hurt but it doesn't not hurt. It's a pressure and a pinch and pain but not the worst pain you've ever felt.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, looking away. "For what?" Steve frowns and grasps your chin, forcing you to look at him," Baby, it's okay! I can spend all day here with you- i want to spend all day with you. It doesn't bother me that this takes time. I love you. You're worth it. You're like everything to me. You should enjoy this too, not just me."
You can feel the tears start to form but you blink them away. You lean forward and kiss Steve again. He hums slightly against you before deepening the kiss. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, pulling moans and gasps from you. You barely notice Steve moving his hand again, pumping his fingers in and out of you.
When Steve pulls back, his lips are swollen and his face flushed," Do you think you are ready or do you want me to add another finger?" You pause for a moment to think before whispering," I'm ready, just...go slow?" Steve smiles and kisses your forehead," I can do that. That's my middle name." You giggle as Steve blinks at you," That was dumb forget i said that."
He removes his fingers and you can feel yourself clench at the loss. But your heart beat picks up in anticipation as Steve finally sheds his boxers.
Steve can't help but smirk as your jaw drops. Steve is big. Bigger then you expected him to be. There's a prominent vein you want to lick, follow all the way up to the flushed tip. There is pre-cum leaking from the top. You can see at least one freckle near the base, and another on one of his balls.
Steve crawls over you, hovering above. "You ready?" He asks, eyes staring into yours. You nod. "Want to hear your pretty voice Baby," Steve threads his hand in yours. "Ready as I'll ever be," You grin shakily.
Steve positions himself at your entrance. "Hold onto me, okay?" Steve inhales and slowly exhales. You run your hands up his shoulders to the column of his neck before threading a hand through his hair.
You squeeze his hand tight as the tip of his penis enters you. "I got you, I'm sorry," Steve murmurs as he squeezes his eyes closed. "Don't be," you gasp. It isn't painful like it has been in the past. It's a stretch, slightly uncomfortable, but not painful.
Steve murmurs praises once he's seated fully in you. You exhale slowly as you get used to the feeling. Any further nerves and tension slowly goes away. You feel so good. Full. You lean forward barely touching Steve's lips with yours. Steve chases you, enveloping your mouth with his.
"Please move Steve," you whisper in between kisses. He nods. Steve slowly moves out, it makes you want to weep at the loss, but he's suddenly filling you again.
You gasp in pleasure. It's never been like this. Felt so good. "Fuck," you gasp out, nails scratching against Steve's shoulder. He grabs your leg and positions it around his hip, driving deeper into you," Yeah, we are."
You would chuckle, but you can barely think straight. Warmth spreads throughout your limbs. Pleasure. Ecstasy. You moan wantonly as you writhe against Steve as your orgasm overtakes you. Steve squeezes your hand in his, grounding you into this moment, as he presses his forehead to yours.
Every breath you exhale, Steve inhales, and vice versa. His weight pressed against you, holding you close. His hips stutter against yours, you feel his warm wet seed paint the inside of your walls. You are wholly consumed by Steve.
You slowly come back to your senses, to Steve kissing your neck. You hum slightly, pulling back to look at him. "That was...amazing," you smile at him. Steve grins back before kissing you once more," Let me get something to clean you up, I'll be right back."
You feel empty as Steve pulls out, a slight sting at the loss that dissipates quickly. Your combined release spills out of you as Steve stands up. Steve's jaw drops slightly at the sight, stomach muscles twitching as his cock kicks back up in interest.
Steve shakes his head and returns to the task at hand. He heads into the attached bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and running it through warm water. When he returns, he carefully cleans you. You shift uncomfortably from the unexpected texture against your sensitive skin.
As soon as Steve is done, he tosses the washcloth towards the hamper. He scowls as he misses, causing you to laugh. He crawls into bed next to you," Foul play, I was distracted." "Oh?" "Mmhmm" Steve covers you with a blanket and pulls you into his side.
You curl into Steve, hand resting against his chest. You can hear his steady heart beat. You absent-mindedly trace letters on his skin. "I love you," you murmur. You pause, waiting for a response.
Your brow furrows and you lift your head to look at Steve, who remains silent. You snort out a laugh. Steve's eyes are closed and his jaw slack as he breathes through his mouth. Dead asleep as you confess your love for him. You grin as you kiss his pec, laying your head back down.
You'll tell him again when he wakes. And again that evening. And again. And again. And-
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inkykeiji · 1 year ago
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character: bonten!mikey x fem!reader notes: a day or two ago teddy and i were daydreaming about sucking on our Daddies’ fingers and i genuinely haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since!!!! warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, hair pulling, oral fixation (finger sucking), somnophilia + minimal prep, mention of drugs words: 1.3k
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If he’s being truthful, Mikey doesn’t really mind when you suck on his fingers—kind of likes it, actually; likes feeling useful, likes the way your tongue pulses and jumps just a bit as you draw him in a little further, suck around him a little harder, likes to pacify you—provided that it’s feasible.
You know when to ask, know that if Daddy’s busy cleaning his guns or cutting his drugs that he needs both hands, that his pretty girl can’t be greedy, now, just because she needs something to suck on. No, on those days you can usually be patient enough, can usually wait until Daddy’s finished with whatever important business he has to take care of. But sometimes, if you’re really needy, and you’ve been extra good, you might get lucky—he might let you stick his cock down your throat, let it sit all heavy and hard on your tongue as you kneel sloppily between his spread thighs, chin on the edge of his chair, hands planted between your folded knees and palms pressed flat to the floor, all conscious and intentional, since Daddy has a rule against touching during times like these, claims it distracts him, and we can’t have that, now, can we, sweetheart?
No, Daddy. Of course not, Daddy.
Daddy has a rule against sucking at times like these as well—this isn’t about getting him off or making him feel good, after all, he had told you. This is just about giving his whiny little baby something to fill her mouth with, something to fill her mouth up, to keep her occupied and quiet while Daddy works. If he feels your tongue start to curl around his shaft, if he feels your lips begin to pucker and your cheeks begin to hollow, he’ll be yanking you off his cock in one harsh, swift motion, with his knuckles rooted at your scalp and a growled curse spit through his teeth—and then you’ll be in real trouble, and you definitely don’t want that! 
But it’s when Daddy’s sifting through boring paperwork and poring over mind-numbing files and notes—full of gruesome photographs and disturbing details—that the perfect opportunity arises to lend you his hand, to let you wrap both palms around his slim wrist and take his fingers into your mouth.
He knows that’s exactly what you want when you curl up next to him on his plush office couch, gazing at him with glittering eyes and your bottom lip siphoned between your teeth, but he won’t give it to you; not until you say it, of course, not until you explicitly ask for it—because good girls ask for what they want, don't they?—keen stare veiled by feathery lashes and voice trembling with a desperate sort of humiliation. 
But he’s sweet as syrup when he nods and allows you to suck two of his fingers into your eager, waiting mouth, silky praises falling from between smirking lips. Because you’re so good for him, swallow so well for him, take his index and ring finger all the way in for him, right to the third knuckle, the edges of your teeth gently scraping the sharp protruding bones. 
The metal of his rings clacks against the back of your teeth, platinum and white gold warming in the heat of your mouth as your tongue coils and curves around the bony digits, laves over the bumps and ridges of each knuckle and joint. Foamy saliva pools in all of the dips and crevices of the jewellery, coats the surfaces all slick and slimy and leaves the gems encrusted in the metal gleaming. 
The underside of the rings feel smooth on your tongue, tip tracing around the arc of each one, slow and studious, almost as if committing them to memory. The metal has a slight tang to it, smearing the zest of sweat across your tastebuds, bitter and salty with a hint of the rusted blood still caked beneath his nails and lining his cuticles.
The pads of his fingers stroke your tongue in slow, rhythmic motions, petting the slippery little muscle in a tender caress—mindless, soothing, habitual—as tired onyx eyes skim the pages crumpled in his free hand. Delicate fingers hook around the bangles encircling his wrist and tug, begging for more and whimpering nonsensically around his flesh—more, Daddy, more, more, gimme more, pretty please.
And he does, of course, his sweet, greedy little girl, permits you to draw him further down your throat, copious amounts of drool oozing from the corners of your mouth as your lips tighten and your tongue squeezes—so much so that it’s trickling down your chin and dripping off your jaw in heavy, viscous cords, drizzling all over your chest and clavicle.  
It leaves behind the prettiest streaks of shimmering spit, and Mikey can’t help but press down on the back of your tongue, enraptured as another tiny torrent of saliva seeps past his fingers to spill down his hand and collect in the lines of his palms.
The action earns him a pitchy yelp, sound vibrating around the tips of his fingers, and he snorts a little, fingers rubbing your tongue in a crude sort of apology. 
Sorry, baby, sorry, he’s murmuring in response, though that smug, sadistic little smirk toying with the corners of his lips tells you that he’s not sorry at all. 
His fingertips are pruned by the time he’s finished shuffling through his documents, soaked and soggy with your saliva. Your mouth’s finally gone slack, a telltale indicator that you’ve fallen asleep, dribbles of drool rolling down the side of his hand and his wrist as you breathe, calm and even and soft, around the digits lodged down your throat. 
Your teeth have left cute little indents in his knuckles and the underside of his fingers, but he doesn’t mind, running the tip of his own tongue over the jagged little craters carved into his skin and humming softly to himself.
It always has his cock twitching in his trousers, straining against the thin material, and on the nights where he really needs it—when the day has been abundantly challenging, excruciatingly exhausting, full of collecting debts and deaths—he’ll rearrange your pliant body, push your head down and hips up and panties aside and use his already sopping hand to wet you just enough to comfortably take his cock, burying himself to the fucking hilt in one swift, sharp thrust and revelling in the gorgeous little gasp of surprise that claws its way past your sleepy lips. 
Stay sleeping, sweetheart, he always tells you, murmured into the skin behind your ear and punctuated with a chaste kiss. Just let Daddy take what he needs.
And so you do, every single time, ever his good girl, his best girl, nodding into the corduroy couch cushions and mumbling out some garbled sentiment of affirmation. 
It’s never graceful, always shameful, lacking his usual skill and subtlety as he pathetically ruts into your sweet cunt, flush hips grinding into your thighs gone sticky and slippery with desperation, humping away unevenly at you until his cock is pulsing viciously and he’s breathing out a curse against the damp nape of your neck, filling you with thick cream.
He always takes a moment to admire you after, too; to admire the mess he’s made of you, the masterpiece he’s made of you, calloused thumbs spreading your fucked-raw lips and watching as his cum cascades out of you slow and sticky, using the hardened pad to smear it across your cunt—glazing your clit and your slit and your inner thighs; painting you in him, pressing into the splotches of navy and grey those sharp hipbones carved into soft flesh—before he hoists you up, collects your boneless body in a heap in his arms and decides it’s time for bed, finally, for the both of you.
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chiiimchar · 7 months ago
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Small fic based on this!
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"So do you think a HUGE scissors sadness could beat a small rock sadness?"
Siffrin chuckled, but kept his gaze on the unfinished chair leg, "I think so, yeah. A strong Scissors craft done by a person can still beat a rock sadness, so it could work in a hypothetical sadness versus sadness fight, can't it?"
Bonnie hummed, "I guess so? You should try that sometime."
"Are you suggesting I go explicitly against precisely what Nille told me not to do?"
Bonnie giggled, "It's not like you don't do it anyway!"
Siffrin almost messed up their carving, "No I don't!"
"Yes you do! I know things, you know?"
Siffrin grimaced, "...how do you know?"
Bonnie laughed, loud and cheerful, "For starters, you've just confirmed it!"
Siffrin groaned.
"And also, you keep going out to 'fish', come back with no fish, and looking like you got mauled by a bear."
Siffrin gasped, "No I don't! I don't lose fights!"
"If you say so."
"I do say so."
Bonnie giggled, and Siffrin exhaled, finishing up another chair leg. He blinked, "Oh! I think I'm done with the chairs."
Bonnie turned away from the stove, "You are?"
"Yeah. I just need to make the table legs, sand and assemble all of these, and I'll be done with Ms. Jill."
"Good," Bonnie says, "She sucks. I don't like her coming here so often."
Siffrin hummed, sanding the latest chair leg some more, "Are you almost done cooking? I can help if you're not."
They shook their head, tongue sticking out as they stirred the pan, "No, I'm neeearly done." They gently flipped the sweet potato fries, and promptly turned off the stove, "Ok, all done!"
"Did you salt the fish?"
Bonnie nodded, then the nod slowly turned into a shake of the head. "Forgot."
Siffrin laughed, and stood to ruffle their hair, "It's okay. I'll bring the salt once I set the table, then."
Bonnie pushed his hand away, sticking out their tongue, "Okay! I'll go wait for Nille outside!"
Siffrin smiled as they ran off the house, and set the table. The cute, nicely decorated fork for Bonnie, the plain darkless one for themself, and the one with the darkened handle for...
"NILLE'S HOME!" Bonnie exclaimed from the door, startling Siffrin into dropping the forks on the table, "Oops! Sorry!" They said, a nervous smile on their face.
Siffrin breathed deeply, and smiled at them both, "Hey, Peel."
Nille smirked at him, "Hey Crabfrin, did Bug here blow up the kitchen today?"
Bonnie groaned, "No!!!! I didn't!!!!!!"
"Results inconclusive. I was busy carving. The kitchen might just be gone."
"I didn't!! I didn't blow it up!!!!!"
Nille shook her head, fake remorse in her tone, "Wow, that's too bad. Guess we'll have to get a new kitchen."
Bonnie puffed out their cheeks, "Alright that's it. None of you get to eat my delicious and amazing fish and sweet potatoes."
Nille laughed, "Nooo! Buggg please let us have some!!"
Bonnie shook their head resolutely, "No. You were a crab. No food for you!"
Siffrin smiled, "What if I apologized and gave you a little kiss on the forehead?"
Bonnie paused. "..fine."
.
They sat down to eat.
Dinner was about as eventful as always, which is to say everyone spoke about what they did during the day (and when had Bonnie had time to do all that? Had Siffrin really been that immersed while carving?) and, of course, sent their compliments to the chef ("We MUST have someone else cooking here, the cooking is too good!", "Wow, you picked out all the fish bones? Thanks Bug!")
After that, Bonnie went to bed as Nille was on dishwashing duty, and Siffrin in drying.
"Did Mr. Flemming give you much trouble?" Siffrin asked, drying a fork and putting it away.
"Huh?" Nille tilted her head, passively scrubbing a plate, "Oh, nah, he was patient and all, he just had me waiting for long bouts of time in-between tasks. That's why I took so long to get home."
"Ah." She usually got home before Bonnie even started cooking, after all, "I see."
They cleaned for a few more minutes in comfortable silence.
"Oh, right." Siffrin said, "Do you want to come with me to watch a play, next weekend?"
"Sure," Nille answered easily, "What's it about?"
"I'm not sure, I think it's new? Something about a boy going inside of a book?"
"That sounds fun. Are we taking Bonnie?"
"If they wanna come!" Siffrin nodded, finishing up the last plate, "I don't think it's age restricted."
"Cool, we have a weekend plan, then!" Nille smiled, and walked out of the kitchen, "Don't forget tomorrow Bon has that playdate of theirs after school, okay?"
"Yeah, I'll pick them up." Siffrin nodded, removing his gloves and smiling at her, "Good night, Nille."
"See you tomorrow." She smiled back, and they both went to bed.
.
Sifffin sighed shakily under their cloak.
Bonnie never did go to that playdate. He refused to think about what happened to their little friend, and instead held Bonnie's hand tighter and they continued to run.
Chin up Siffrin.
Chin up.
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smalltownrobin · 3 months ago
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I'm actually so tired of these surface level readings and interpretations of Vickie.
I'm not about to argue Vickie has been developed well so far, okay? We barely saw her, and we still haven't been told much explicitly about her, and I hate that, I wish they payed more attention to her since she's their only canonically bi character (so far) and she's going to be partnered with one of the main cast, not to mention she's half of their only sapphic relationship. It SUCKS.
HOWEVER.
Calling her just a carbon copy and saying Robin "deserves" a better romantic plot is ridiculous??
How can she deserve a better romantic storyline when we haven't even seen all of it yet? We are at the beginning of their plot, we know there's more to come and we can be pretty certain they're going to progress into a proper relationship, or at least admit feelings for each other. I wish we saw more of them in s4, but we can mostly gather where they're going with the next season based on circumstance and how the characters have interacted with each other so far. That kind of Joyce/Bob dynamic of one of them not knowing anything about the upside down I think is such a sweet concept for Robin? It could bring out new sides of her if she's the one guiding Vickie through all of it, or even trying to keep her away from it. Obviously if you don't like that you don't have to, but saying she should have something "better" really sounds like you've not even thought about it.
Then saying she deserves better because Vickie is just a carbon copy of her is actually so silly to me, she deserves better than someone who understands the way her brain works and can relate to her? Robin's friends love her and care about her, but ultimately they don't know how to handle her sometimes. Vickie sharing one trait with her that will make both of them feel seen and understood is not lazy or boring, it's normal and even beneficial for partners to share traits like that.
The "carbon copy" thing really needs to stop because you sound five years old I'm sorry. They both ramble and they're both in band. Yet they dress totally differently, have different taste in movies (or are we all forgetting Robin likes classic black and white movies while Vickie watches raunchy movies about teenage sex), even speak and act differently despite sharing the rambling thing.
Most of Vickie's character is in the subtext (which I hope will be expanded on s5), but from what we've seen of her she does have some traits that don't seem to be in Robin's character (some things Robin does or the way she acts being a direct result of upside down monster hunting capers, whereas Vickie just does it on her own). To me they're pretty distinct from each other while sharing some essential traits they can connect on.
If that's just not what you like, that's okay! Ship what you want to ship, like who you want to like, but just put a bit more thought into it if you're going to tell people why you hate rovickie for the millionth time. It's okay to have a preference, but don't speak as if you're making a profound point about sapphic representation when you yourself aren't looking that much into it.
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berryhobii · 10 months ago
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Do Not Disturb (myg x reader) A Drabble
Pairing: fwb!Min Yoongi x black!female!reader
Warnings: Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), sex while on the phone, doggystyle, fingering, orgasms(m and f receiving), ass slapping, fingering(f receiving), squirting, Yoongi wearing a chain, yes that’s a warning, he’s also obsessed with reader’s pussy duh
A/N: Hi everyone! I’m back with a little something something for my Yoongi stans. This is just the classic still fucking while talking on the phone trope. And making it fwb!Yoongi just felt right. I didn’t explicitly describe reader in this so imagine them however you want! Please enjoy and stay safe🩵criticism is greatly appreciated and please feel free to tell me what you think
~
The ringing of your phone made you slow down in your actions. Your bleary eyes glanced over to where it laid on the coffee table.
Best Friend🌸
What were they calling you for right now? Thank goodness your friend is so clumsy and their camera is broken so they couldn’t FaceTime you.
“Answer it.” The gruff voice of your fuck buddy said, his large hands squeezing at your bare ass.
“Are you insane, Yoongi?”
His skilled fingers tweaked at your sensitive nipples, a whimper coming from your mouth.
“Just answer it. You know they’ll call back.”
“But-“
You didn’t have time to reject before he was grabbing your phone and pressing the answer button. You squeaked in panic but he had already placed the phone next to your head.
“Hello?”
“Why the hell you ain’t answer the first ring, bitch?”
You sucked your teeth. “Don’t call my phone with an attitude, hoe. Now what you want?”
“Let me tell you what that old lady at my job did.” They started.
And Yoongi started to move your ass back and forth on his cock, your mouth dropping open as the head pressed dangerously close to your cervix.
“So I went on my lunch break early because I was starting to get a headache, right? No one else had a problem and it was slow anyway so me taking a break wouldn’t have did anything…”
“Fuck, this pussy is so wet.” Yoongi grunted, pushing your ass cheeks apart to get a better look at your creamy pussy sucking him in.
“Oh shit.” You gasped.
Your friend was still busy ranting so they couldn’t even hear your little noises.
“But when I was about to clock out, she gonna walk up and say ‘it’s not time for your break’. Like bitch, who the hell are you? I can take my break whenever I want. God I hate her so much.”
When Yoongi started thrusting his hips to meet you, you cursed out a, “fucking bitch.”
“Exactly! So I told her to mind her business before I give her some business to mind and she said she’s gonna tell our manager. Like I care. I’ve been ready to quit that job anyway.”
Your head hung low, hands gripping into fists as you began throwing your ass back on Yoongi. You felt ready to cum, that pressure building back up in your lower belly.
“Anyway, when I came back from my break, she told me I went 3 minutes over. Can you believe she was timing me? What’s next? Is she gonna start sneaking into my house to see what time I go to sleep?”
Yoongi’s hips sped up, the clapping noise of your skin meeting getting too loud for your liking. You reached an arm back to try and stop him but he just grabbed it and held it against your back. His other hand pushed his sweaty hair back out of his face.
“O-oh my….ooooooo..”
“What’s that? Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah. I’m fine. I just…burned my finger.” You stuttered, trying not to make it too obvious that you were struggling to form complete sentences.
“Oh okay. But yeah, she is so annoying…”
With every thrust of Yoongi’s hips, it became harder and harder to hold in your moans. You were so close and you and him both knew how loud you got when you were about to cum. Not even the occasional gags you used could muffle your screams of pleasure.
He began scooping his hips to drive right into that spot again and again and you couldn’t hold it anymore. Hands scrambling for your phone, you pressed the mute button, your mouth opening to let out a cry.
“Oh my fucking god, Yoongi! Harder baby!”
His hand pushed your shoulders down so that your face was pressed against the cushions, hips slamming into yours hard enough that you’d think Trey Songz wrote that Neighbors Know My Name song for you two.
Yoongi released your arm to grab both of your ass cheeks again, gripping them like handles in his palms.
“I love this pussy. Damn.” He delivered three consecutive slaps to your ass. “I’m so close. Want my cum, princess?”
You desperately nodded your head. “Yes baby! Fill me up!” You moved your hand under you to begin handling his balls which were sticky and wet with your arousal.
Yoongi tossed his head back, eyes fluttering shut as fire burned hot in his belly. The combination of your slick walls squeezing around him and your acrylics lightly scratching at his balls was enough to send him right over the edge.
His hips stuttered, cock throbbing as he released deep into your clenching walls.
You moaned at the feeling of his warm cum filling you up. You were so close. You just needed a little more.
And Yoongi gave it to you.
Pulling out of you, he replaced his cock with his index and middle fingers, hooking them right into that spongey spot inside of you. You screamed into the air as he drilled his fingers in and out.
Your hips bucked as the pressure became overwhelming, his arm holding you down and preventing you from running.
Your hands scrambled for anything to hold onto, the back cushions of the couch the victims of your assault.
“F-f-f-uhhhhhhhh, oh! Yoon!”
“Cum baby.”
Your hearing blanked, vision blurring with tears and drool leaking from the sides of your mouth as your orgasm pummeled into you, harder than anything you’ve felt in your life.
Yoongi cursed as a hard spray of liquid squirted from you, pulling his hand out to rub furiously at your little nub.
“Yeah princess. Fuck, you’re so sexy.” He palmed at your ass, spreading your cheeks before leaning in to slurp at your clit. His hot mouth propelled you right into another orgasm, this one not as hard as the last one but still satisfying and so so good.
You reached your hand back to grip at his hair, pulling his face closer and deeper to you. His tongue lapped all over your creamy cunt, your combined juices and releases tasting sweet on his tongue. He couldn’t get enough of you. You were just too delicious, too captivating, too beautiful.
He pulled away from you and was just about ready to plunge his now hard cock in your walls again when your phone rang out.
You had completely forgotten about it. Your chest heaved as you lifted your head. You blinked your tears away to make out the name on the screen, finding your Best Friend’s ID flashing.
Oh shit.
You tried to stabilize your breathing before clicking the answer button.
“H-hello?”
“Oh are you finished? You know, next time you’re in the middle of that, just don’t answer my call.”
You gulped, tossing your braids over your shoulder. “W-what? What do you mean?” Your hand slapped at Yoongi who was rubbing the head of his cock up and down your slit.
You heard them scoff. “Don’t play dumb. You took me off mute. Y’all are nasty.”
“Oh. My bad. Uh….did you still want to-“
They cut you off. “Nope. Don’t even worry about it. I’ll just see you this weekend. Don’t get pregnant.” That’s all they said before that familiar ‘beep beep beep’ sounded.
They were not gonna let you live this down. Brunch was about to go crazy.
Clearing your dry throat, you turned your head to look at your fuck buddy whose eyes were focused on your pussy. You rolled your own eyes, this horny bastard.
“Yoongi. Did you hear that?”
He didn’t even lift his gaze. “Huh? Yeah. Ready for round 2?”
“Are you serious? My friend just heard us having sex and you’re ready for round 2?”
He snorted, eyes finally lifting to meet yours. You’re glad he made eye contact because if he wasn’t, he would have saw how your pussy just clenched from how devastatingly sexy he looked; pale skin marked up from from your scratching and biting earlier, his dark hair pushed from his face, and that annoying ass chain resting against his collarbone.
Okay. Round 2 didn’t sound like a bad idea.
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Yoongi, I don’t think-AH!”
Suddenly, he flipped you over onto your back, grabbing your ankle to pull you towards him. He spread your legs wide enough for you to feel a slight burn in your hamstrings.
He leaned over you, that sparkling chain hanging right above your face.
“Do you really care that they heard? I know this slutty pussy doesn’t care as long as my cock is filling it up.” He emphasized his words by sliding his cock home, the girth splitting you open and making you forget your previous frustration. “Isn’t that right?” A smirk pulled at his lips, those pink lips looking absolutely kissable.
You whined out a yes, hands sliding up his arms to wrap around his shoulders. “Fuck me, Yoongi. Please.”
“Of course, princess.” He was about to start up but you stopped him again.
“Wait. Let me put my phone on silent.”
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langernameohnebedeutung · 6 months ago
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A few years ago I was working for a research department that studies regional history and I was also managing their social media (instagram, facebook and twitter). Now, for the most part, the work we did was primarily interesting to other academics studying regional history as well as some excited lay people and we also sometimes worked with schools etc.
When I stopped working there, a co-worker took over the social media accounts for another 2 years or so. Then, about 1 year into the Muskification of Twitter, my then-former boss (we are still friends) told me that they would no longer be posting on Twitter because it sucked now and the engagement was dropping, so it wasn't worth paying someone to manage the account. But that the account would remain up as a resource for anyone who was interested.
Now, I still got access to that account. I'm actually still logged in on one of my devices (because that's my 1 functional Twitter account, if I want to look at stuff).
And it is honestly insane that when I go on there these days, almost the entire fucking feed is EXPLICITLY far-right content (it's literally the vilest, most card-carrying upfront racism, antisemitism, islamophobia, and so on) - and, it's almost completely in English and is about American politics. Now, this is an account that has never posted in English, and never engaged with English content, most of the accounts it follows are from German-speaking countries and if they aren't, they're usually Dutch or French or Belgian + about regional history - nothing American and certainly not current politics. And when German content does show up on the feed, it's also usually racist shit AND political things - filtered for an account that has never engaged with political content.
And the thing is, obviously this is not the stuff I look at there. Sure, I'm forced to look at it when I open the app but usually I just go on twitter to have a look at some important trending topics or to get live updates about some event like elections or catastrophes.
No one is actively using this account to actively engage with any content at all (all the likes are strictly content about regional history events, responses to our own tweets, tweets by university faculties or academics, livetweets from conferences etc and nothing has been added since the account went functionally dead). So I'm just saying that this is my field study of how fucked Twitter is these days and how propaganda is literally funnelled at people. (And especially how the algorithm equates "interested in history" with "interested in far-right content")
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beatrixstonehill2 · 6 months ago
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"Headed up to the surgery intake at this university as my boyfriend films me, and I show off my fat, gorgeous titties one last time. We were at the park when this group of boys came up to my boyfriend and I. They seemed so nervous but I encouraged them to speak their minds. The boys told us they were from Fairfield University and were studying to become surgeons. My boyfriend and I congratulated them and asked how we can help.
They were explicitly told they have to train not to be nervous when working on patients and had to go out and find a beautiful girl with very large breasts. I giggled, and instinctively bounced my boobs for them, which made them look so horny and nervous, like they were going to nut their pants any second, it was adorable! They told me they were tasked by their surgical professor to find a few girls like me for them to work on, and ask them if they'd be OK with having their breasts removed. My boyfriend looked very amused. I put my hands on my hips and stuck out my breasts.
'Oh really?' I asked them. 'Your assignment is to find some girls with huge bouncy boobs and chop them off?' The boys gulped, nodding along. I again jiggled my breasts for the boys, making one partially fall out of my top. 'Well?' I asked. 'If you're chopping off my boobs they're yours now. So, you better get comfortable with them. Touch them, squeeze them. Go on.' The boys were stunned, one by one they started to grab my breasts as my boyfriend filmed, teasing me about being their guinea pig, and way too much of a people pleaser, but he liked that about me. One boy nutted himself when he squeezed my left tit and milk sprayed out.
'Sorry, I know it's a pain in the ass but my boobs are lactating really badly. I gave birth two months ago. That won't be an issue, I hope?' The boys shook their heads, knots in their throats as another winced and came in his pants. The boys were so inexperienced, probably nineteen or twenty. I reached out and took their greedy hands off my breasts as I knelt down. 'Come on, you guys can't chop off my big, lactating tits with these rock-hard cocks distracting you.' My boyfriend zoomed in on my face, happily filming away as I sucked the boys off, cleaning off the ones who came in their pants to the best of my ability. I went to college for four year so I was very familiar with having a bunch of cocks to serve in front of me. I honestly loved being filthy and showing off how good I am at deepthroating.
After making all the boys cum (in a crowded public park, mind you), I stood back up, wiping cum off my lips using the back of my hand. I smiled at them and asked how many girls they need for their little breast-removal project. They nervously told me five. I perked up, bouncing my boobs for them once again, to my boyfriend's amusement. 'Only five?' I said. 'I can hook you up with four more girls who are just as pretty, and some have even bigger boobs than I do. Oh, but three of them are very pregnant right now, will that be an issue?' They shook their heads, but I could tell saying that made them all rock-hard again. What stamina!
And so, I told them I'd love to do it, and I knew from my friends having been through similar surgeries we'd be awake and only numbed. I told them I'd be giving them lots of encouragement the whole time and I'd tell my gorgeous, busty friends to do them same. I smiled, letting them play with my boobs a bit longer, telling them if they needed to cum in the middle of operating I'd be happy to give them a handjob as they work, if it's OK with their professor and all the students watched. They said it shouldn't be an issue...... Sucks to lose my big, sexy tits but my boyfriend is kinda excited to see me get them chopped off, and my friends are totally thrilled to do this. So, I'm not bummed out or anything, what can I say? College made me such a people pleaser, boys can ask me anything and I'll do it."
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