#but god. i want to do something different with a different dynamic

[harzilla]

Honestly can I admit I've been sitting on writing a full God!Yuu fic? I keep trying to turn game mechanics into God skills. I just wanna throw this out there. Sorta a ficlet? It's mostly my kind of stream of thoughts.

Imagine the guys are absolutely clueless that the "magicless" human is a god. Like a trickster god and whatever little thing that follows their amusement and they notice a weird little blip of magic one day and decides to follow where it leads.

they immediately shift into a vessel that fits the world and when Grim busts open the coffin the god realizes it's his magic they noticed. Oh? Interesting....

The dark mirror can't read their soul because the mirror is tuned into the souls of those born in Twisted Wonderland. The body? Yes. Their actual being? No. So for the first time the mirror calls a colorless empty soul since it's creation.

The god soon realizes they're in a school of humanoid mages and they can sense the different flows of magic from everybody. Allowing them to be able easily analyze what kind of magic it is, ties into the world/nature(aero, water, fire) and emotions(void/light)the self.

Our God realizes that things could get boring fast if they push their powers around and they decide to handicap themselves by only using intentional power to prevent somebody from dying. They're not particularly interested in seeing a bunch of kids die. Mortal lives are fleeting but full of fascinating things.

It turns out that Twisted Wonderland is very interesting if you're willing to see where things lead. But, they can still interfere if they do it within the limitations of a magicless mortal, right?

They also can also pick up on the emotions of mortals and the drips of blot they see are literal buildup of negative emotions starting to manifest in a physical world, very nasty little thing. But only they can see it at this point. They stick by Ace and Deuce because they know that the two will lead them to Riddle. The only one dripping blot at this point within their line of sense. They work with Ace and Deuce, so it's only natural they follow because they helped make the tart, right? They know they can only allow the overblot to happen because they limited their powers but the rancid magic wafting off Riddle makes them unhappy. Diving into Riddle's mind they gently pull through his memories and pull the threads of his thoughts in the right direction. Weakening the link to the overblot and allows Riddle's own mind to push forward and ask the question he needed to hear. This Allows Riddle to hit a breakthrough the overwhelmingly destructive negative feelings. It severes the link to the overblot completely, killing the overblot and allowing Riddle to live.

Riddle awakens and now our God slips back into the magicless human act. They know something is off and they're going to follow along because they want to see just what is causing the world to flow in the direction it's going.

The sticker system is them giving the guys blessing. Our God likes interesting things and the entire rewardable cast is their kind of fun. These stickers kind of create a pavlova effect where they feel positive energy/feelings when around the prefect. The emotions trigger the blessings they received that it boosts their magic. Thus the higher the friendship the higher the magic output

Honey? Candies? All the treats? More blessings. Increased lessons is the god blessing them with more lessons by tweaking the flow of time. They can't perceive the change unless the god wants them to.

They enjoy learning new things about everybody and seeing their progress. They like studying the different dynamics between everybody and are always curious about what's running through their head. A bunch of hormonal teenagers with way to much power at their fingertips always attracts trouble. But also they find them all endearing in their own weird ways.

Of course our god sometimes creates it's own trouble, oh my it seems the tsums felt the gods power somehow and they showed up at specifically Ramshackle? oh my how odd? The God permits it because, well it's interesting and the tsums are harmless if not as chaotic as their counterparts. Just the right kind of mischief they're looking for. Of course maybe our god might have felt a tiny bit bored, saw this adorable magical creatures by staring out into the infinite void of space, magic, and existence and was all "Visit this world please? 🥺"

I just have so many ideas for this I honestly feel like I should try to make a long fic of this idea. But I just want you to think about the absolute crisis all of them go through when they're revealed to be a god that has just let the guys do everything that has happened throughout the entire plot and events because they're amused?

But oh what fun they can have now! Now that they can mess with the guys openly. Only the ones they permit can tell anything is happening.

Pay backs fun now isn't it?

[snail-studios]

I've gotten so burnt out with miphlink lately, it feels like everything I draw is for other people (only for it to get mostly ignored anyway) :/ I have so many miphlink aus that I love so much but I just feels like there's no audience and it's getting harder and harder to share my stuff and enjoy it o(︶︿︶)o

(I did recently think about a lifeguard x swim teacher au which I really like the idea of tho. But there's still a worry that I'll make link in a way people don't like and will get criticised which happens a lot in the main part of the miphlink fandom when someone disagrees with a big person in fandom.....)

[longagoitwastuesday]

Every day I am haunted by the fact JJK could be amazing but it will be just idk Bleach or something

[minweber]

Belisarius Cawl, hiding for his life, his ass kicked, ship crashing, friends in mortal peril: I am such a smart boy, he-he-he =)

[normalcannibalism]

i feel weird and self conscious about my art again. sigh

the entire post ended up in thw tags ohb my god

[mantisgodsdomain]

Winning a prize personally by being someone's "well, this trope isn't usually my style, but i know this author is Really Good at writing so i'll check it out anyways" author

[acourtofquestions]

KINGDOM OF ASH (by SJM)

Chapter 48

THE FAMILY REUINION🥹😆😭🫶& MY SOULLL

But when they reached Princess Hasar's battle tent, when they had all gathered around a map of Anielle, they had only a few minutes of discussion before they were interrupted. By the person Chaol least expected to walk through the flaps.

A moment later, Chaol was glad he was sitting down.

Nesryn breathed, "Holy gods."

Chaol was inclined to agree as Aelin Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn, and several others entered the tent.

They were mud-splattered, the Queen of Terrasen's braided hair far longer than Chaol had last seen. And her eyes ... Not the soft, yet fiery gaze. But something older. Wearier.

Chaol shot to his feet. "I thought you were in Terrasen," he blurted. All the reports had confirmed it. Yet here she stood, no army in sight.

Three Fae males-towering warriors as broad and muscled as Rowan—had entered, along with a delicate, dark-haired human woman.

But Aelin was only staring at him. Staring and staring at him.

No one spoke as tears began sliding down her face. Not at his being here, Chaol realized as he took up his cane and limped toward Aelin.

But at him. Standing. Walking.

The young queen let out a broken laugh of joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol held her right back, every question fading from his tongue.

Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. "I knew you would," she breathed, gazing down his body, to his feet, then up again. "I knew you'd do it."

"Not alone," he said thickly. Chaol swallowed, releasing Aelin to extend an arm behind him. To the woman he knew stood there, a hand over the locket at her neck.

Perhaps Aelin would not remember, perhaps their encounter years ago had meant nothing to her at all, but Chaol drew Yrene forward. "Aelin, allow me to introduce"

"Yrene Towers," the queen breathed as his wife stepped to his side.

The two women stared at each other.

Yrene's mouth quivered as she opened the silver locket and pulled out a piece of paper. Hands trembling, she extended it to the queen. Aelin's own hands shook as she accepted the scrap.

"Thank you," Yrene whispered.

Chaol supposed it was all that really needed to be said.

Aelin unfolded the paper, reading the note she'd written, seeing the lines from the hundreds of foldings and rereadings these past few years.

"I went to the Torre," Yrene said, her voice cracking. "I took the money you gave me, and went to the Torre. And I became the heir apparent to the Healer on High. And now I have come back, to do what I can. I taught every healer I could the lessons you showed me that night, about self-defense. I didn't waste it-not a coin you gave me, or a moment of the time, the life you bought me." Tears were rolling and rolling down Yrene's face. "I didn't waste any of it."

Aelin closed her eyes, smiling through her own tears, and when she opened them, she took Yrene's shaking hands. "Now it is my turn to thank you." But Aelin's gaze fell upon the wedding band on Yrene's finger, and when she glanced to Chaol, he grinned.

"No longer Yrene Towers," Chaol said softly, "but Yrene Westfall."

Aelin let out one of those choked, joyous laughs, and Rowan stepped up to her side.

Yrene's head tilted back to take in the warrior's full height, her eyes widening-not only at Rowan's size, but at the pointed ears, the slightly elongated canines and tattoo. Aelin said, "Then let me introduce you, Lady Westfall, to my own husband, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius."

For that was indeed a wedding band on the queen's finger, the emerald mud-splattered but bright. On Rowan's own hand, a gold-and-ruby ring gleamed.

"My mate," Aelin added, fluttering her lashes at the Fae male. Rowan rolled his eyes, yet couldn't entirely contain his smile as he inclined his head to Yrene.

Yrene bowed, but Aelin snorted. "None of that, please. It'll go right to his immortal head." Her grin softened as Yrene blushed, and Aelin held up the scrap of paper. "May I keep this?" She eyed Yrene's locket. "Or does it go in there?"

Yrene folded the queen's fingers around the paper. "It is yours, as it always was. A piece of your bravery that helped me find my own."

Aelin shook her head, as if to dismiss the claim.

But Yrene squeezed Aelin's closed hand. "It gave me courage, the words you wrote. Every mile I traveled, every long hour I studied and worked, it gave me courage. I thank you for that, too."

Aelin swallowed hard, and Chaol took that as excuse enough to sit again, his back giving a grateful tinge. He said to the queen, "There is another person responsible for this army being here." He gestured to Nesryn, the woman already smiling at the queen. "The rukhin you see, the army gathered, is as much because of Nesryn as it is because of me."

A spark lit Aelin's eyes, and both women met halfway in a tight embrace. "I want to hear the entire story," Aelin said. "Every word of it." Nesryn's subdued smile widened. "So you shall. But later." Aelin clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the two royals still by the desk. Tall and regal, but as mud-splattered as the queen.

Chaol blurted, "Dorian?"

Rowan answered, "Not with us." He glanced to the royals.

"They know everything," Nesryn said

"He's with Manon," Aelin said simply.

Chaol wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved. "Hunting for something important."

The keys. Holy gods.

Aelin nodded. Later. He'd think on where Dorian might now be later. Aelin nodded again. The full story would come then too.

Nesryn said, "May I present Princess Hasar and Prince Sartaq."

Aelin bowed—low. "You have my eternal gratitude," Aelin said, and the voice that came out of her was indeed that of a queen. Any shock Sartaq and Hasar had shown upon the queen bowing so low was hidden as they bowed back, the portrait of courtly grace.

"My father," Sartaq said, "remained in the khaganate to oversee our lands, along with our siblings Duva and Arghun. But my brother Kashin sails with the rest of the army. He was not two weeks behind us when we left."

Aelin glanced to Chaol, and he nodded.

Something glittered in her eyes at the confirmation, but the queen jerked her chin at Hasar. "Did you get my letter?"

The letter that Aelin had sent months ago, begging for aid and promising only a better world in return. Hasar picked at her nails. "Perhaps. I get far too many letters from fellow princesses these days to possibly remember or answer all of them."

Aelin smirked, as if the two of them spoke a language no one else could understand, a special code between two equally arrogant and proud women. But she motioned to her companions, who stepped forward. "Allow me to introduce my friends. Lord Gavriel, of Doranelle." A nod toward the tawny-eyed and golden-haired warrior who bowed.

Tattoos covered his neck, his hands, but his every motion was graceful. "My uncle, of sorts," Aelin added with a smirk at Gavriel. At Chaol's narrowed brows, she explained, "He's Aedion's father."

"Well, that explains a few things," Nesryn muttered.

The hair, the broad-planed face ... yes, it was the same. But where Aedion was fire, Gavriel seemed to be stone. Indeed, his eyes were solemn as he said, "Aedion is my pride." Emotion rippled over Aelin's face, but she gestured to the dark-haired male. Not someone Chaol ever wanted to tangle with, he decided as he surveyed the granite-hewn features, the black eyes and unsmiling mouth.

"Lorcan Salvaterre, formerly of Doranelle, and now a blood-sworn member of my court." As if that weren't a shock enough, Aelin winked at the imposing male. Lorcan scowled. "We're still in the adjustment period," she loudly whispered, and Yrene chuckled.

Lorcan Salvaterre. Chaol hadn't met the male this spring in Rifthold, but he'd heard all about him. That he'd been Maeve's most trusted commander, her most loyal and fierce warrior.

That he'd wanted to kill Aelin, hated Aelin.

How this had come about, why she was not in Terrasen with her army ... "You, too, have a tale to tell," Chaol said.

"Indeed I do." Aelin's eyes guttered, and Rowan put a hand on her lower back. Bad— something terrible had occurred. Chaol scanned Aelin for any hint of it. He stopped when he noticed the smoothness of the skin at her neck. The lack of scars. The missing scars on her hands, her palms. "Later," Aelin said softly. She straightened her shoulders, and another golden-haired male came forward. Beautiful. That was the only way to describe him. "Fenrys ... You know, I don't actually know your family name."

Fenrys threw a roguish wink at the queen.

"Moonbeam."

"It is not," Aelin hissed, choking on a laugh.

Fenrys laid a hand on his heart. "I am blood-sworn to you. Would I lie?"

Another blood-sworn Fae male in her court.

Across the tent, Sartaq cursed in his own tongue. As if he'd heard of Lorcan, and Gavriel, and Fenrys.

Aelin gave Fenrys a vulgar gesture that set Hasar chuckling, and faced the royals. "They're barely housebroken. Hardly fit for your fine company." Even Sartaq smiled at that. But it was to the small, delicate woman that Aelin now gestured. "And the only civilized member of my court, Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth." Perranth. Chaol had combed through the family trees of Terrasen just this winter, had seen the lists of so many royal households crossed out, victim to the conquest ten years ago.

Elide's name had been among them.

Another Terrasen royal who had managed to evade Adarlan's butchers.

The pretty young woman took a limping step forward, and bobbed a curtsy to the royals. Her boots concealed any sign of the source of the injury, but Yrene's attention shot right to her leg. Her ankle. "It's an honor to meet all of you," Elide said, her voice low and steady. Her dark eyes swept over them, cunning and clear. Like she could see beneath their skin and bones, to the souls beneath.

Aelin wiped her hands. "Well, that's over and done with," she announced, and strode to the desk and map. "Shall we discuss where you all plan to march once we beat the living shit out of this army?"

[shidoukanae]

backtracking through TME again and im still utterly in awe of Helene and her writing

I thought by the time i reached episode 72 that her story arc was mostly cleaned up. We got to learn that she does care about Lyla and that she's basically the asshole with a heart of gold stereotype wrapped in a few layers of pettiness and a faint hint of immaturity on her part.

...But now im realizing there MUST be still a lot to her character to go. There's just no way there's not. Between the missing event that turned Helene against Lyla and the way Helene warned Lyla not to trust or get close to her...not to mention we still haven't addressed the reason why OG!Helene destroyed the world in the first place...man, I LOVE that there's still more to her character to go

Helene is literally everything I have ever wanted to see in a character wrapped into one. I'm still shook she exists, that the whole of TME's plot never forgets her or shelves her potential.

She's a gal who has never gotten the chance to really mature into the person she should be due to Lyla's continued existence. She's petty and mean but her original saintly nature seems to be still intact. She's a walking contradiction: both cruel and kind and brave yet afraid. The amount of complexity and depth invested into her is honestly astonishing. And I wouldn't be surprised if she's heading for a villain arc considering her ties with her mother and the hints that she has a hand in the deaths of the empire's mages.

And I just,,,, god,,,, I want to create characters on the same level as Helene (and as the rest of this cast, actually). And while im currently in a rut with OC stuff due to being overwhelmed (and in a "what's the point" mindset lmao), this manga is SUCH an inspiration for me and all i wanna do is cling onto it and hope it never ends :'D

[prismbearer]

Re-invested in my DUrge ATM because I let myself accept they weren't fucking Gor.tash.

[sugume]

LESSONS IN CORRUPTION w/Gojo Satoru

IN WHICH: Your teacher finally has his way with you at the end of senior year

( TW ): fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, mean and manipulative teacher!Gojo, Porn w/ no plot, corruption kink, power dynamics, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, cream pie, size difference, breeding kink, blood, fingering, age gap (reader is 19, Gojo late 20's), Gojo secretly records, half edited

Word count - › 1.6K

“You know I love you right?” Satoru asks, cupping your face. 

“I love you too.” You smile up at him as he fingers your pussy. 

“Loved you ever since I laid eyes on you—ever since you walked in my class with that short skirt and those white knee-high socks. My innocent schoolgirl.” He leans down to kiss you on the rose-covered hotel bed.  

It was your graduation party last week, but he said couldn’t make it to your party at your parent’s house, said he had an important meeting, and RSVP no to your parents’ invitation but when you asked them, they looked at you incredulously and asked why they’d send invitations to your teachers. When you went to school for your last week and told this to Gojo he said he did get an invitation and your parents told you that so you wouldn’t get upset that he couldn’t make it. 

—

“Gotta surprise for you though.” Gojo smiles up at you from his chair. You’re sitting on his desk, feet resting on the armrest of your teacher’s chair. Gojo can see your panty-clad pussy from his position under you, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows you’d be embarrassed if you knew he could see your Hello Kitty panties.  

“Really? What is it is!” You set your salad down so he could have your full attention, you know he doesn’t like it when you focus on anything else--even if it’s something as simple as food. You think it’s romantic how much he needs your full attention. 

“Well since I couldn’t come to your party, I figured I should throw you another party, this time just us. It could be our special party.” 

“Oh my god, really?” You throw yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His cologne engulfs you. 

“Mhm, and guess what? It’s gonna be a sleepover party at that new fancy hotel that just opened downtown. You excited Princess?” Gojo wraps his arms around your waist, discreetly rubbing his semi on your pussy. 

“Super-duper excited! When is it? Please say soon!” You cheer, innocently bouncing in his lap. Your pussy clenching when you feel his cock rub down the length of your damped cunt. You hope he doesn’t notice. 

“This weekend schoolgirl, your parents approved n’ everything.” He informs you, holding you down on his now rock-solid cock.  

He couldn’t wait for this weekend.  

“Really?” 

“Really, but they told me they want you to tell them you’re staying at your best friend’s house,” you open your mouth to question why but his grip on your waist tightens and he looks down at you angrily. “Don’t question us y/n, you know your parents and I know what we’re doing. Were the adults, you’re just a child, understand?” 

“Yes, Sir.” You nod, not wanting to upset him when he’s always so good to you.  

“Good girl, now finish your lunch sweetheart—no stay on my lap I make sure you eat it right.” 

—

Gojo glances at the nightstand, ensuring his phone is set up before he looks back at you. Rose petals underneath, nipples puckered, and eyes crossed you look like an angel. His angel. 

“Sir! I-it feels weird down there—I think I gotta pee.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers. 

“Just let it happen, princess,” He curls his fingers into your g-spot, his other hand going to rub your clit. Your legs start to shake, and you try to clamp them shut but Satoru’s thighs keep them in place. “Don't—That’s it, let go, let it happen.” 

You never knew what it was like to orgasm, Satoru has only told you what it would be like, but this—this—you could get used to the way your pussy contracts on your teacher’s fingers and your mind goes blank. 

Your hands fly down to his wrists once it’s over, suddenly overwhelmed. 

“S’too much ‘Toru, please no more!” You cry out, another mini orgasm washing over you.  

“Gotta prep you—get you wet enough for my cock sweet girl,” he takes his fingers out of your cunt, and your juices following in suit. “Think you’re ready?” 

“Mhm.” You look up at him like he hung the moon and stars. Right now, if he told you he did—you’d believe him. 

He brings his wet fingers to your mouth, and instinctively you open your mouth. He shoves them in. 

“Can’t wait to see this small pussy take a dick too big, too old for ‘er.” He groans at the thought, pulling his now clean fingers out of your mouth to pull his boxers off.  

You gasp when you see it jump out. It’s huge, the tip is an angry shade of red, and his balls look ready to explode any second. You don’t think with all the prep in the world you could take it. 

“It’s too big, Sir.” you whimper, shyly backing away from him.  

“Don’t run away from me y/n, how many lessons does it take for you to get ‘Don’t question your elders’ through that little brain of yours,” he pulls you back, slapping your pussy. “C’mon now, didn’t you say you loved me?” He pouts, looking down at you with puppy eyes. Your heart clenches. 

“Course I love you—I can take it. I promise.” You grab his face, the one you’ve spent the last semester admiring from afar, and kiss him the way he taught you. 

“Yea?” 

“Mhm.” You lay back down and wrap your legs around his hips. 

He grabs his cock, the head soaked with your juices, and slowly pushes it in. You gasp from the sudden intrusion. His fingers did nothing to prepare you for his girthy cock. He pulls out again before pushing in, this time a few more inches. He repeats this movement until you're filled to the brim. He looks down and chuckles. Only two-thirds of his cock is in your too-small pussy. Blood trickles out the side of your pussy. 

“Hurts.” You cry. He looks up to see thick tears flowing down your cheeks. 

He thinks about comforting you, but he can’t get his mind off your tight pussy. He’s too worried about not cumming prematurely than comforting you.  

“Shh, it’ll feel better soon honey, just lay there and take it.” He starts to move in and out of your cunt. Using your blood as extra lube. 

You claw at his back from the overwhelming feeling of your pussy being stretched. Satoru grunts above you, sucking hickeys all over your breast. After the ninth thrust, you start to moan, the pain quickly turning into pleasure. 

“Sir! Feels s’good.” You moan.  

“Your cunt feels surreal princess, never felt anything like this, think I might need to fuck my students more.” He says into your neck, speeding up when his balls start to clench and ache with the need to release. 

Suddenly, you’re overcome with a surge of jealousy, the thought of him fucking the other girls when you leave for college, teaching them how to kiss, and letting them sit on his lap and eat lunch every day makes you want to cry and scream and the same time. He’s yours! He doesn’t get to fuck anyone else, nobody else should be bleeding on his cock and cumming on his fingers.  

“S’not fair! You’re mine, only mine!” You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him impossibly closer to you, in you. 

“Then prove it little girl, show me that I belong to you.” He shoves his lips on your pouting ones. 

You throw your arms around his neck and buck into his hips, determined to show him that he only needs you. That you’re enough to satisfy all his needs. 

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum deep in this cunny. Gonna fill you up—watch you get full with my baby and have to drop out of college before you even finish the first semester!” His thrusts turn sloppy, bruising your swollen cunt. 

“Yes, give me your baby Sir, please!” You moan, suddenly thinking about a life with him and a baby you two 've created. You’ve never felt so empty. 

“Please, please, need ‘ur baby s’bad!” You slur, legs tightening around his waist. 

“‘M cummin’ schoolgirl, ‘m fucking my baby into your too-small cunt.” Satoru groans, his balls contracting as he shoots his load into your womb. 

The sensation of being filled causes you to orgasm again, the world going blank for a few seconds.  

“Shit!” Satoru lays over top of you, the weight of him making you wheeze. You lay there silently for a few minutes, unable to form a coherent thought. 

“W-was that good?” you question when your mind clears, thinking back to what he said about fucking other girls. 

“Of course it was princess, best I’ve ever had.” He reassures all the while his mind is racing, thinking ‘bout the new girl that just transferred to your school. He kisses you as he places a bet with himself ‘How long would it take to get her breed full of his child too.’ 

[moonstruckme]

OMGGGGGGG

the first kiss was so cute!!! perfect!! james was so sweet and gentle w her😍😭😭

can’t wait to see there dynamic from now on

Thank you gorgeous! I held onto this so I'd have something to post this last part to, hope you don't mind <3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

James is buzzing while he makes breakfast the next morning. Golden morning light pours in through the front windows, brightening the kitchen and warming his back where he stands in front of the stove, the buttery smell of pancake batter wafting up from the pan. He’d gone to bed later than usual last night and slept hard but woke jittery, desperate to do something about the commotion in his chest. 

A run hadn’t done it, nor had replaying the previous night in his head, and now he’s convinced he won’t be able to rest until he can kiss you again. It’s your fault, really. Your little sighs, your careful touches, the way you’d tugged at the roots of his hair when he asked you to, like all this time you’d only been waiting for permission. You’ve fucked him. James will never be able to get over it. Now, all he can think about is getting more. 

He’s made more pancakes than a family of five could eat when he hears the stair creak. 

“Good morning,” he says, turning around just as you pad into the kitchen, quiet as a ghost. 

Your eyes are bleary, but they still manage to widen slightly as you take him in, along with the precarious tower of pancakes beside him. You’re in that sweatshirt he loves so much, sleeves hanging limply from your hands and hem hitting just above your knees. 

“Morning,” you say, softer than soft. 

“How’d you sleep, lovely?” 

You shrug, not quite looking at him. “Fine. You?” 

James grins. “Beautifully. You want some pancakes?” 

Your gaze goes again to the stack beside him, and he can practically see the quip brewing in your eyes. Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice. Are you planning to feed an army?

“Sure,” you say in that same quiet voice. “Thanks.” 

James studies you, intrigued. “Great. C’mere, sweetheart.” 

He plates up a few pancakes, keeping one eye on you as he does. You seem disinclined to look even in his general direction, finding distractions with the stove, your plate, the weather outside. 

“How’s this?” He turns around with the plate. You take it cautiously, by the complete opposite end to avoid any possibility of making contact with his hand. James’ heart warms at the way your fingers just peek out from the sleeve of your sweatshirt to grasp the plate. He wants to kiss you until you don’t know what day it is. “Too many? Not enough?” 

“This is good.” 

“Yeah?” He doesn’t let go of the plate. He tilts his head, trying to catch your eye, but you evade him. He has a hunch that if he were to touch your face (and god, does he want to) he’d find it burning hot. “Are you alright?” 

Your eyes flit up to his for a half a second before fleeing again. You hum, the sound tense and pitchy. “Mhm.” 

“You sure?” he asks, matching your soft tone. “Don’t go getting shy on me now.” 

You look like you stop breathing. 

And ordinarily James might feel bad, but post-kiss James cannot be prevailed upon to treat you as cautiously as he ordinarily might. Unfortunately for you, your secret’s out. You’re lovely, you’d said, voice soft and breathy and mere inches from his own mouth, I like having you around. I do. I really like you. Also unfortunately for you, post-kiss James knows things. 

He slips his palm alongside your face, working his hand behind your ear and letting his fingers burrow into the hair behind it. You melt, leaning into the touch. Your eyes meet his. 

It’s grueling work to keep from smiling. “What’s wrong, angel?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say, still quietly but now with more of yourself in your voice. 

“Really? Because you’re acting like we’ve just met.” 

“Don’t you—don’t things feel different to you?” You seem almost distressed, eyebrows hooking upwards just slightly, pretty eyes imploring. Your voice softens again, now more with intimacy than reticence. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to talk with you about.” 

James lets his smile loose, thumbing at the skin behind your ear before letting you go. “We can talk about anything you want,” he says simply, grabbing his own plate and leading you into the living room. 

You’ve got a perfectly good kitchen table but almost never use it, each preferring to eat your meals on the couch. He flops down, careful not to tip his pancakes onto the cushion as he crosses his legs underneath him like you’re at a sleepover. 

“So, have any fun dreams last night?”  

You smile. It’s as heart-stoppingly lovely as always, and James thinks his own probably doubles in magnitude in response. 

“A couple,” you admit. 

“Oh? What about?” 

Your smile goes sheepish, bottom lip slipping in between your teeth as if to impede its progress. You fork clinks against the plate as you start cutting up your pancake. 

James’ brain short-circuits. 

“You were in my dream,” he blurts. 

Your eyes flit up to his warily. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. It was one of those weird, super vivid dreams where nothing really happens, you know?” You seem to relax a bit. James douses his pancakes in syrup, starting to cut them up as he talks. “We were here, and someone had spilled something on the rug—probably Sirius, to be honest—and it made this huge stain. I’d tried to pour baking soda on it, but the whole box had collapsed and it got everywhere. We were both sitting right there scrubbing with literal toothbrushes, and I think I was worried you’d be upset with me but you were just laughing.” His heart warms at the pseudo-memory, the hazy feeling of contentment that had permeated the dream. The sound of your laugh, exactly as sweet as in real life. “Your hands were totally covered in baking soda, and the rug was ruined, but we were both laughing our heads off.” 

You’re smiling again, a small, knowing thing. “Had you said something to make us laugh?” 

“No,” he says honestly, “I think it was you.” 

James is aware that he’s barely functioning. It’s almost too much to talk and cut his pancakes at the same time while you’re looking at him like that, like he’s the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. It makes it both a relief and a disappointment when you drop your gaze. 

“Do you think the stain might’ve been a premonition?” you ask. 

He raises his eyebrows. “How do you mean?” 

You laugh, and he’s instantly spellbound, caught somewhere between fantasy and reality. It takes him a second to realize you’re touching the edge of his plate, tipping it up. James looks down. It had been nearly falling off his lap, his pancakes cut up into tiny pieces and syrup pooled near the rim. 

You look up at him, seraphim with the morning light brightening your features and the hint of a smile playing on your lips. He thinks of how soft they’d felt on his the night before, the way they’d fallen open like welcoming him home. 

“You were almost spilling syrup onto the rug,” you say, that rare and beloved teasing lilt to your voice. “It would’ve taken more than baking soda to get that out.” 

“See?” he asks. “You know how to talk to me just fine.” 

You look surprised, then self-conscious, though not nearly as bad as when you’d come into the kitchen a few minutes ago. He covers your hand with his to keep you from going anywhere. Sets his plate on the coffee table. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your eyes are wide. “Again?” 

“Yes, again,” James laughs. “And again after that, preferably. Only if it’s okay with you.” 

You shake your head, looking something akin to bewildered. “Yeah. Yeah, please.” 

He starts to lean toward you, and you meet him halfway. Already, it’s a bit different. There’s no tentative stillness, no slow yielding. Your lips are pliant and eager, parting and closing around his like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Your fingers wind in his hair without instruction, and James responds by placing his hand in that spot you’d seemed to like it so well last night, the material of your sweatshirt soft beneath his touch. You taste like his pancakes, the syrup sweet on your tongue. 

“Keep talking to me,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your lips worshipfully, “okay?” 

Your voice is breathless. “Why?” 

“Because I like you.” He tugs at you, wanting you closer. “And I think I’ve put in the work for you to warm up to me, if it’s all the same to you.” 

You make a tiny, amused sound. “Fine,” you say. You grow bolder, kissing your way up his cheek, the top of his eyebrow, until your nose is nestled in his hair and your lips are caressing his forehead. “Consider me warmed.” 

James grins, unable to help himself. He thinks that becoming your friend didn’t go quite as he planned, but he feels as though he won in the end.

[notjustjavierpena]

Routine

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 💖❤️

[callilypso]

II ▷ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 — l&ds 0:01 ───|────────────────────

↳ there's no way they're getting jealous over pixelated men.. right? it's not your fault you've got a very particular type.

↳ scenarios in which they witness you fangirling over fictional men (ironic i know) that's actually quite similar to them in personality/vibes

ᴛᴀɢꜱ: mdni; fem!mc (but ur welcome to hc urself as whatvever you want); mostly crack; zayne suggestive (implied smut), fluff, xavier fluff, rafayel angst, hurt/comfort, sylus fluff; references to l&ds myths lore, a lot of anime references and possible spoilers for shows/game (jjk, apothecary diaries, ghibli movies, ff), established relationships; a lot of thirsting, jealousy, mc is emotional and assertive, periods, ovulation mention, mc and sylus have playful banter dynamic; unedited

❥ a/n: these are silly ideas that's been in my head for a while now and its most self indulgent. its been plaguing my head now about how i would let nanami and zayne hit at the same time and dingdingding! ideaaa. i do appreciate some feedback and reblogs!! this is my first time posting about l&ds, and my own interpretation for them may vary from yours. english isn't my first language so pls pardon my grammatical errors. minors and ageless blogs will be BLOCKED.

Now ever since you were both kids, he already knew your absolute fascination for anime, sometimes even joining you as you watch the latest Sailor Moon and Detective Conan episodes. He also remembers vaguely how you had an absolutely massive crush on Roy Mustang from FMA. He was sure you didn't even understand the plot you were just ogling at him as he silently judged you.

So it shouldn't be a surprise that you still are, in fact, a massive weeb.

And it shouldn't be surprising you would still have fictional crushes, even with your established relationship. It's not that Zayne feels threatened in anyway—they're not real for heaven's sake.

But after a long 36-hour shift and a major surgery, exhaustion seeping into his taut muscles, bones aching, skin longing for yours—something just slightly irks him when he sees wayyy too close to the TV, kicking your feet like a silly little girl on the floor, gripping your biggest plushie.

You were giggling and grinning like a mad woman as you were just practically drooling over the latest episode of Jujutsu Kaisen.

You were replaying the part of Nanami Kento pulling some blonde dude's hair roughly, pulling him to his shadowed face.

"What's the number and location of your allies?" Nanami growled through the screen, and you were giggling again, rewinding for the nth time. Damn his wide ass shoulders seems so nice to rest (your legs) on.

He was the perfect balance of serious and dry humor. His suits were always on point, paired with leather shoes and luxury silver watch. The way he would carry himself; his presence bringing in the level-headed maturity needed by the mostly teenage cast, truly the reliable adult they all need. Nanami Kento was truly husband material.

You go over the scene again when Nanami tugs the dude again by his ponytail, a good shot of Nanami's packed pants in side view.

And god, you would have pulled those pants down and showed Shibuya a real incident—

After a while, you were getting uncomfortable, so you stood up from your spot, deciding to get something to drink when you stop dead on your tracks.

There was Zayne, sitting on the couch still dressed from the hospital minus the white coat. He had his arms folded against his chest, watching you with tired eyes.

"Oh—Zayne! Welcome back, love." You greeted as you made your way to him to give him a kiss.

He didn't kiss you back.

You give him a concerned look. Although you were already used to his stressed demeanor though after work, you can sense this was slightly different.

"Love?" You called out to him again, hand travelling to his chest. You see his gaze faltering into a fondness familiar to you, and he looks away.

Ah..

You bit your lip to suppress a snort, grabbing the tie to make him face you again.

"Is Doctor.. sulking?" You quirked an eyebrow at him.

Zayne grabs your wrist, pulling you into his lap and you oblige, effectively straddling him.. You put your arms around his neck as he nudges his nose at the crook of your neck, placing butterfly kisses.

"I don't know... maybe my woman saying she's about to pull down another man's pants is a justifiable reason?" he murmurs into your skin, hugging your waist closer.

Oh fuck, you said that out loud?

He felt you shake with laughter. Unraveling from the embrace, you cup his face with both hands.

"My love, we both know the only man I can and will ever that to is you." You reassure him, still giggling as you feel him sigh a shaky breath.. and a familiar tent poking you down there.

You loved when Zayne gets like this, being extra clingy after long work days—soft, yearning, needy.

The renowned Doctor Zayne, always so frigid when it comes to other matters, is melting under your touch, almost pouty because of a fictional blonde man on TV. You could almost coo.

"Hm.. maybe I'd like a demonstration?" Zayne drawls out in request, almost plea. Polite as always, you would think,

If not for the sudden tug at back of your hair, exposing the column of your neck.

A silent moan breathes out of your lips, feeling him nip down to your collarbones.

You huff out a laugh, feeling Zayne hum on your skin.

"Seems like someone's got inspired."

Xavier is a jealous man. Whether or not he acknowledges this, everyone and their mother knows this is an established fact.

Another man breathes your direction and something immediately itches under his skin to pull out his sword. This may or may not be an exaggeration.. I mean the man is literally jealous of himself.

So what do you expect when, unbeknownst to you, he catches you giggling to yourself at your phone during lunchbreak? He's on his way to spend it with you at your usual place, take out of your favorite food in hand.

"Did your boyfriend text you or something, girl?" He hears someone tease you—Tara, he figures—and he stops at the corner where he's about to turn. Xavier peeks his head a little and he sees her nudging your arm as you look up at her, eyebrow quirked and a goofy smile on your lips. You were both turned away from him waiting at a table.

He remains hidden at the corner, confused.

He didn't text you though? Did he?

"Noooo—it's nothing.. just a new episode." You tuck your phone away from her prying eyes.

"Ohhh, so it's your other boyfriend-" Tara teases, and you hit her playfully. "Who is it now? Gojo? Himmel?"

There's a ringing in Xavier's ears.

"Ssshhhh!—you're so loud!" You whisper yelled, pulling Tara beside you to show her your screen.

It was Apothecary Diaries. Jinshi spotted Maomao at work as a servant after being laid off the palace, and of course, went to bother her.

Jinshi brushes his finger over Maomao's lips, staining it with pink rouge, before bringing it up to his own lips and kissing it. He smiles at her after and she looks away, flustered.

You and Tara start squealing as discretely as possible to avoid looking like total idiots in public to no avail, as you were shaking Tara in giddiness.

"If Maomao ain't gonna kiss him soon enough, I will!" You say through your gritted teeth in frustration.

The way he looks at her, like she's so far out of his reach whenever they do touch, sadness and longing in his gaze. You eat it up every time he's getting starstruck by her hidden beauty. It was so obvious he was the supposedly sickly prince of the kingdom, masking his own identity for the sake of his mission (ahem), yet it cracks sometimes just to let this supposedly common clever peasant girl to seep through, leading to his silly misunderstandings and petty jealousy-

Behind, you both hear someone clear their throat, and you slowly pan over your gazes.

There was Xavier, arms crossed, an unamused look in his eyes as he looks down on you both. Tara stands up way too fast.

"Hey there! I just remembered I have something to do—See you later, girl!" She quickly takes off, leaving you high and dry.. and awkward as fuck.

Yeah, he's seen the scene himself too while you two were too busy fangirling amongst yourselves. Yes, he knows who Jinshi is, as you two were also watching the show together every new episode. And yes, he was aware about your love for shoujo and how you absolutely going crazy over Jinshi and Maomao's moments way before this. He did find it cute whenever you get giddy about them, telling him they should just get together already.

"H-Hey, Xavier!" You stammer, also quickly standing to greet him. Shit, you think to yourself. You were holding those other thoughts to yourself as you watch together because once again..

Xavier is a jealous man.

Maybe you can still get off the hook because its a fictional man for heaven's sake. You internally sigh, remembering the one time you were hitting the sofa too many times with a hushed scream the moment Yuta Okkotsu popped out on screen in season 2 of JJK.. Xavier had his eyebrows knitted the entire evening after that.

But alas, Xavier is your jealous man.

There's a pout on his lips with the familiar frown, and you could almost laugh.

"You watched it without me.." He complained, yet still letting you pull him beside you this time, and sat down.

"We can watch the whole thing later again, bunny." You hook your arm around him, and you feel him loosen up a bit of his tension. But now he won't look at you.

"Maybe, I don't want to anymore.. It's been spoiled now." Xavier pouted.

You can't help snickering, squeezing your embrace on his arm, tugging him to catch his gaze again. He just continued to look away pettily, sulking.

An idea pops in your mind.

You brush your finger over his lips ever so slowly, finally catching his attention.

He watches as you bring them to your own lips, kissing intently just as Jinshi did for Maomao.

A blush creeps into his cheeks, ears tinting red as you smile at him. He's so adorable, and all yours.

"Kiss me?" You ask, eyes lingering on his lips, and Xavier's breath hitches.

"You're no fair.." He huffs, closing the distance between the two of you.

Who was he to refuse?

We've all got our childhood cartoon crushes, in more 'hear-me-out' ways or tame ones. There's ones we grow out of and ones that's like.. forever ingrained into your mind because it changed your brain chemistry.

You were rewatching your ultimate comfort Ghibli movie for the millionth time: Howl's Moving Castle.

Yeah, yeah—it could be considered overrated nowadays but that doesn't matter as it never truly gets old for you. You always find new ways to appreciate the film, from the enchanting music, the vibrant distinct art style and animation, the beautiful characterization of the cast, and the overall themes and plot is just absolutely perfect.

And yes, you do cry every time. You stopped wondering when you would grow out of that phase because it just hits so good.

It also doesn't help that it's your period, so the hormones are wack as hell and your uterus was killing you and stabbing out your fucking ass. You were contorted in an uncomfortable curled position as you downed the left over ice cream on Rafayel's couch in his studio. The night sky through the windows was a nice ambience as the TV illuminated the rest of the living space. You were wearing his favorite cream diamond patterned cardigan, the one with the red and blue hems. It still smelled like him, perfect for maximum comfort.

Rafayel wasn't actually in the studio when you got there. Ever since you got together, he gave you a spare key, insisting you were welcome anytime even when he wasn't around. His home was your home now too, he said. You texted him several times beforehand you were coming over, yet no reply—not even a seen. Moody as hell, you still crashed the place anyways, even more disappointed he wasn't anywhere in his property.

So now, you were just waiting for him to finish whatever business he has you have no idea about. You decided to stop pestering poor Thomas over him either as he too was didn't seem to know where in god's green earth Rafayel was—you were too tired and moody and in fucking pain to give a shit. If he doesn't wanna show up, fuck that guy.

Whatever, at least you've got Howl.

It was nearing the climax of the movie. Sophie was wandering through what was seemingly Howl's dream, finding herself in a familiar stone house in the middle of valleys of flowers. The meteor shower drifted against the night sky. A young Howl stood in the middle, jet black hair flowing with the wind as he catches a falling star. "I know where I am! I'm in Howl's childhood!" Sophie realizes, as the wind starts to lift her off her feet. Howl swallows the star, keeling over at a pain in his chest, and in his hands was his heart—Calcifer. "Howl! Calcifer!" Sophie yells desperately, and they both look over to her. "I know how to help you now! Find me in the future!"

Aaand you were bawling. It wasn't even that dramatic yet but you were bawling. It goes on for god knows how long as your attention wanders off.

Howl, despite his eccentric and seemingly vain nature, is deeply caring. Howl did not care for the war, only that it would end for everyone's sake. He sees the beauty within Sophie when she could not. The symbolism of Calcifer being able to be tamed by Sophie, the implied longing for her all those years, so much so even if the only thing seemingly linking them is an unsaid promise.

To be honest, you might just be projecting right now.

Maybe you actually miss him bad—his familiar low V-neck white shirts and black slacks hugging his waist, his pouty lips, and stupid charming smile. The studio was in the familiar mess, meaning everything was reminder of a touch of your own gorgeous annoying ass lover who's somewhere out there—

"Baby..?" A concerned voice calls out, and despite being here the entire time already, you finally felt like home.

You didn't even notice he was already there cause of your tear-blurred vision, relief making you cry a little harder as Rafayel wipes your tears away. All your irritation and the mental angry scolding you were gonna give him melts away as you lean into his hands.

"Hey—what happened? Are you—" Rafayel stammers, as this was kind of the first time he encountered you this seemingly distraught the entire time you were together. He knew he kind of fucked up by not answering soon enough because of his dead battery—fuck all that actually why are you even bawling your eyes out over the TV?!

He knew you can get emotional in films and shows but not this much. It made his chest ache seeing you like this even if it's just a movie.

"Let's run! Don't fight them, Howl!" Sophie cries out, drawing Rafayel's attention for a moment to the screen at the familiar dialogue. "Sorry, I've had enough of running away, Sophie. Now I've got something I want to protect. It's you."

He remembers you saying Ghibli movies were your comfort movies and you both had plans for a marathon together at some point. Seems like you started on your own. Rafayel knew a bit of this story.

Alright, perhaps more than just a bit.

"A-at the beginning, he greeted her saying he was—" you hiccupped, stammering your words out, placing your own hands over his, "He said he was looking everywhere for her."

"Yeah?" Rafayel whispered, hushing your cries.

"Mhm.. And he did wait for her, looking everywhere for his heart even when it was actually with him the entire time."

There's a pang in Rafayel's chest, squishing your face gently.

"And yet, it wasn't with him, even if his heart was in his chest—not unless she was with him." Rafayel whispered with an aching softness in his tone that's hard to miss.

Because Rafayel was holding his own heart in his hands right now, drying her tears.

You finally get a better look at him, the purple hues in his eyes twinkling like twilight seas against the dark. It was there again—a look into the familiar murky depths he doesn't let you dive into, lest you drown.

Yet you wouldn't mind if it was Rafayel. You wish he could trust you a little more.

Rafayel leans in for a kiss, but you stop him with a hand over his mouth.

"Wait—I'm literally snotty and ugly right now-" You quickly wipe the rest of the wetness from your face away, but then Rafayel's hands directed you back to his now growingly intense gaze.

"You're beautiful." He states, true with conviction.

"Are you trying to make me cry more?" You whine.

"Of course not, cutie. I-"

"You made me wait an eternity here.." You sobbed out, pain twisting in your gut again.

Rafayel's gritted his teeth, a flare of something unwanted momentarily rises but quickly gets doused again. No, this situation was all his fault and it's not fair on you. You were in pain and he wasn't there.

"I.." He manages, "I'm sorry.. But I would wait an eternity for you, my bride. I really will, I—"

I did.

The words immediately die in his mouth, drying his throat.

You notice Rafayel's own eyes glistening, tears threatening to fall and his breath beginning to shorten.

"Fyel? I'm not mad anymore, please don't cry too.." This time it's your turn to cup his face.

"I just really really missed you." You confess, caressing his cheek as you rested your forehead against his own.

"Well, I'm hear now, sweetheart.. Sorry I'm late." He breathes, finally pressing his lips against yours.

A heavy burden beats in his chest, one he knows you will unknowingly carry evermore.

Maybe you really had a type.

You admit you're always quite drawn to the questionable, morally ambiguous characters. Bonus points if the said character is insane to some degree. You tell yourself it's not like you would actually date people that crazy in your actual life. It's just all fun and games, right?

Sure.

Well, now you're dating The Leader of Onychinus, Sylus, the unofficial uncrowned emperor of the N109 Zone himself.

It isn't really as bad as regular people would think really. Sylus is a sweet and genuinely caring man in contrast of his public image. He has a reputation to uphold after all. He always spoiling you in whatever you wish, always open to whatever you want to say, and always present for you to call or visit. His tall imposing figure was more of a sign of comfort. He was basically a walking hearth, free to cling to whenever, wherever as you walk through the frigid streets of the N109 Zone.

Like look just at the man.. You literally fucking won at life.

To be honest, you have no idea how the hell you even got at this point. And who are you to complain? You were living your best life with someone who can match your freak, so to speak.

But, for now..

"Damn, why is he so.." You mutter to yourself, caressing the large tablet at your lap like an idiot.

"Don't deny me." Sephiroth says, doing some mental fuckery with Cloud for the hundredth time. It got you biting your nail. "Embrace me."

You definitely had a fucking type, you giggle to yourself.

You were just killing time since it's your vacation, and you were spending it in the ideal environment: your boyfriend's dark luxurious base, in the comfort of his king sized silk sheeted velvety bed, sleeping your troubles away. Sylus is out as usual, going on about his own business, so you had the whole place to yourself.. and Mephisto.

Upon your doom scrolling, you stumble upon this hauntingly beautiful man, Sephiroth, and you were pulled in like a moth to a flame.

It's not your first time seeing him—heck, everybody who's at least half as chronically online as you are has at least seen him once—but more of the first time to appreciate him more closely, especially that goddamn face—damn, are you ovulating or something what the hell?!

And now you've been going on for hours just ogling at the dude with no idea how long it's been. You already ordered all the games with the help of your so ever generous boyfriend's card, but your ass cannot wait for it anymore and just spoiled yourself silly watching other streamers and silent walkthroughs of every Final Fantasy content you could get your hands on.

One hundred percent no regrets.

You then wonder about how Sylus would look like with longer hair.. it might not be good for your health, you conclude, for both the sake of your heart and uterus.

Luckily for you at least, Sylus doesn't seem like he's hellbent to destroy the planet in an existential downward spiral of insanity. But it makes you think about how far you'd be willing to actually follow him in his path.

(Something dark stirs within you, but you pay it no mind. You don't wanna be hearing those voices again anytime soon.)

The camera pans to Sephiroth's lips for what seems like half of his screentime, and your biting your own goddamn lip. The curve of that upper lip was killing you.

They didn't have to make him literally so damn ethereal, although it fits his fallen angel motifs. His uncanny green eyes literally stares into your soul, pulling you in and in and in, until you you're all snug under his thumb. Sure, the dude is a manipulative murderous bastard with a literal God-complex, because fuck his ugly ass father you refuse to acknowledge has any relation to him..

But now that's just a part of his charm now, isn't it?

"Good, Cloud.. very good.." Sephiroth whispers as he embraces the blond with such eerie intimacy that shouldn't be possible while being fucking stabbed.

You swear you can already feel the hot breath fanning your ear as he said those lines.

"Damn it—Cloud, let me be the trusted adult to save you right now and switch!" You shake the screen with frustration. "That should have been me..!"

"What should be you, sweetie?"

A familiar deep voice calls out from the dark entrance of your shared bedroom, reverberating from your toes and up your spine.

"Sylus!" You throw your tablet so fast you weren't sure if it landed on the mattress as you stood up, sliding your feet towards him.

No one beats your real white haired, ruby-eyed, impossibly handsome, ridiculously tall powerful man for you..

But you would never say that out loud because the man needs to be kept knocked down a peg or you will never hear the end of it.

"A little birdie has been bugging me all night about how.. unfaithful you were being," Sylus tucks a strand behind your ear, finger trailing down your jaw. "Care to tell me what's that all about?"

You gape at him, snapping your head towards Mephisto who was still as a statue at your bedside. From your view, it seemed like that accursed bird is avoiding your gaze in shame.

"You little..!—"

Sylus grabs your attention back by your chin, making you lock eyes with him. There it was—that intense gaze, his crimson eyes pouring into yours, making you come undone. He can pick you apart and mold you back piece by piece, and the scary part of it all was that you would most likely let him.

Again, not that he needed to know that.

"Now, now, kitten. Don't blame him." He chuckles and you swear it's the sexiest sound you've ever heard, your heart pacing faster.

"I—He's literally exaggerating! I was just watching a game here the entire time!" You huffed, crossing your arms and looking away like a petty child. He laughs a little more.

"What were you watching so intently that I catch you still awake at the break of dawn, hm?"

You glance at the clock. 5:02 AM. You were up all night? Damn.. not the first time but you haven't lost track of time that badly since binging House of the Dragon a couple months ago.

"Oh, I thought that little traitor—" You give Mephisto a pointed look, still looking away with guilt, "—told you everything at this point."

Sylus pulls you closer by your waist, until your chests bump each other. "Well.. maybe I want to hear it from you, since you somehow purchased a whole game series with the card I lent you."

Okay, fair enough.

"It's just a game, love. I saw a character I liked, so I decided why not get it myself? But then I couldn't sit around waiting so I just.. watched some videos." You scratch you head in frustration. "Like how did that turn into unfaithfulness!" You whine.

Maybe it's the sleep deprivation drooping your eyelids that's got you more irritated as you hit his chest with some considerable force.

He huffs mockingly. He was obviously messing with you, yet you were oddly taking this more serious than he anticipated. Makes him wanna tease you more.

In a blink, your tablet was in his hands, grabbed by his Evol. It's still open.

"Hey!" You jump up into your tippy toes, trying to pry your gadget back from him, but he's literal fucking giant.

Seeing an opportunity, Sylus hooks his arm under your thighs and hoists you up easily as many times as before. You quickly bring your arms around his neck, trying to remain in balance.

"Put me down!" You struggle in his hold whilst still reaching for your tablet to no avail. It made Sylus laugh even more.

"What's the matter, sweetie? I simply want to watch it together."

Sylus walks the two of you to the edge of the bed, sitting down with you on his lap. Before you could protest more, the video compilation starts playing,

And you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

"You're practically panting." Sephiroth says, walking up behind Cloud. "I'm excited." Cloud admits, claymore in hand. Amused, Sephiroth tilts his head with a hum. "Such a puppy."

You find yourself your face Sylus' shoulder in embarrassment, pursing your lips to suppress a scream.

Cloud, can you not enable this motherfucker I swear—

"Okay, that's enough of that—Sephi, shut the fuck up right now." You finally get a hold of the tablet with a burst of speed, throwing it in the furthest part of the bed.

Sylus just looks at you with a knowing smug grin, and you wanna smack the it off his stupidly handsome face.

"I am in no obligation to elaborate nor divulge into whatever the fuck that was." You quickly state like an automated message, and Sylus is just laughing at you. "I know that my agony brings you amusement but please just shut up right now."

"I haven't even said anything yet." He says between his chuckling.

"I can feel the judgement brewing in your brain, Sy." You glare at him half-heartedly.

"Could you at least tell me why are you so attached to.. Sephi?" He repeats the nickname you gave him mockingly, and so you smack his chest again.

"I'm going to kill you." You hissed at him. Sylus wants to kiss the scrunch on your nose. You wiggle out of his grasp, but his hand catches your fingers in time, holding you in place. You attempt to tug out of his grasp.

"Where are you going now, sweetie?" He quirks his eyebrow at you, tone amused. Sylus was enjoying this way too much for your sake.

"Out, far away, in another universe so I don't have to deal with you making fun of me." You sneered at him pettily, still tugging your arm away.

Deciding to ride along your silly threat, Sylus asks. "And how do you plan to do that? You can't go anywhere around here without me, kitten."

"I'm flying away with my half winged, crazy, silk-pressed white haired man to help him attain godhood since I am apparently disloyal to you." You spat out pettily, lacking any real venom. Apparently the wrong answer, since Sylus just pulled you back closer, trapping you between his thighs while gripping yours.

He had his eyebrow quirked, crimson gaze laced with something you can't discern maybe because sleepiness was slowly creeping up on you now. Honestly, you're like half aware of what you're saying at this point.

"Don't deny me.." Sylus whispers, almost like a plea instead of a command, breath fanning your skin, raising goosebumps. "Embrace me."

Your eye twitches, reference registering in your mind. "You—How long have you been standing there?!"

You raise your hand to smack him again, but he catches it and keeps it in place over his heart.

"Even if you do leave, sweetie, I'll still be here." He says, the sudden softness slightly catching you off guard. Sylus smiles up at you, not the usual smug one, but pure adoration.

His blood-red eyes were blooming roses as the first dew of sunrise greets its petals—it's pure, unadulterated, natural—like how his heart beats with so much fervor you could feel the thrumming of it under your fingertips like a rushing river. It was overwhelmingly powerful, tempting you to pluck it yourself, thorns digging in your palms. It was almost like you had your hand already buried deep in his chest, his heart pulsing in your grasp, blood pouring out and merging with yours, because you would carve out your own for him too.

"After all, my love, I know you will come back to me." He says with an assurance that shouldn't be possible without sounding pretentious, and yet it got your heartbeat racing, matching his.

Because you were his as much as he was all yours.

"You seem so sure of yourself, huh?" You say instead, feeble way of trying to remain composed after all that, scratching the back of his head lightly the way you know he loves. A relieved sigh leaves his lips. "You're lucky I love you."

"Perhaps I truly am." Sylus draws you closer, placing kisses on your neck, just above an artery. The blood flowing underneath hums against his lips, deciding to gently nip the skin. It made you melt, letting out a shaky sleepy sigh. Your eyelids droop dangerously heavier.

"Seems like your joining me in my sleep, sweetie." Sylus kisses your jaw.

You hum in response, and before you know it, you're curling on his lap again, relishing the welcoming warmth like a kitten and their favorite spot. Sylus swears you're purring.

You smile up at him. "Maybe that was the plan all along."

"Oh? How naughty, ruining your sleep just to blame it on me?"

You yawn, snuggling closer. "I would do anything for you."

He didn't need to know that, but you said so anyways.

He stills for a moment, bated breath, carrying the weight of your words in his embrace. Maybe it was just your groggy murmurings of the moment, but the declaration already sowed itself in his heartstrings, making it skip a beat. The kind that lingers physically for a moment. You were too dangerous, all cutely cuddled up against him to be saying that.

Despite your fading consciousness, you gave him a longing look. Your eyes flickered down where you were mindlessly tracing over his bottom lip, lingering for a moment, then back at his gaze again. It's all he needed to know you were being genuine.

He leaned in for a kiss, savoring the softness of your lips pushing back against his, until it didn't. As soon as Sylus pulled away, you were already softly snoring.

You really were purring.

"Such a kitten." He chuckled.

11:09 ─────────────────────|──

❥ a/n: i definitely got too carried away with sy and raf.. don't blame me i love me howl and raf parallels istg and im a sucker for sylus fluff. zayne got me feeling something all week istg and xavi is my forever baby. let me know what you think but pls be nice c: i'm working on the dads lnds one i swearrrr this just took longer than expected.

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐎𝐭𝟖 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳 ♡

Day thirty-One - Dungeons and Dragons (Gang Bang)

【Synopsis】 : You want, needed to prove that you could achieve just as much greatness like the other guild members. So what better than a hunt that only you and your team can solve.

『Word count』 : 6.56k

-> Genre: Adventure Romance. SMUT. Sprinkle of angst.

Pairing: Ot8!Ateez x Fae!Reader

[Warnings] : Insults. Bar fighting. Mentions of Hongjoong being fwb with the reader. Pet Names. Tension!! Swearing. Getting trapped in a cave. Love confessions. Making out. Oral (multiple rec). Fingering. Breasts play and nipple play. Squirting. Cum eating? Inappropriate use of powers. Multiple orgasms. Unprotected sex. Rough sex. Manhandling. Dirty talk. Dom/sub dynamics. Marking. Biting. Blood drinking. Slight primal play. Sweet kisses. Facial. Slight size kink. Tummy bulge. Cum everywhere. Double penetration

Note: OH MY GOD HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!! Wow. I honestly can not believe we actually got here. 34 fics done and dusted. Ahh. Thank you all for enjoying my work (Ima be more gushy when I make a post later), but!! I will add, lowkey forgot reader had wings in this fic...sooo. just uh pretend they're retractable or something cause whoops silly me was too focused on reader getting dick to worry about her wings. Sorry, ahh.

Networks: @cromernet @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @k-vanity

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Tip Jar ♡

A little Fae like you was never seen as equal to anyone when it came to the hunting games. Every time you came to local bars looking for work, most contractors would just laugh, some even mocking you, saying you were just a little frail Fae. Not cut out for the bounty-hunting life.

You beg to differ.

You have fought your fair share of Orcs, Vampires and devil spawn. You weren't afraid to get a little dirty. But yet, one drunk can take a look at you, seeing your soft sheer wings and dub you weak. You were on your way through another town after having word of an impossible hunt. One that no one has ever been able to complete or lived to tell of their failures. But you had confidence on your side, cause unlike the lonely brutes you had agility, flexibility and most importantly magic.

They went through the trails with a ‘me hit thing first talk maybe later’. You planned to show all the hunters in the community that you were worth it. That every piece of gold you earned was because you knew how to fight and hold yourself. That you were equal to them.

“No.”

“What do you mean no!?” You were fuming at this point, having travelled all this was only for the dungeon master to tell you no bluntly to your face.

“I mean no. It’s a team quest. You need a team and besides…” He looked you up and down with a perverted look, a look you were all too familiar with. “You aren't exactly, hunter material princess.”

Your eye twitched at that last remark. You’ve heard about other hunters going in alone, so why have they seemingly changed the rules? Why now, when you wanted to try the trail, you weren't qualified, yet again. Sighing in defeat, you mumbled to yourself while heading for the door. If the dungeon master was not going to gift you passage, you’d find another way. “Stupid fuck, doesn’t even know what I’m capable o—Oof…”

“Hey, watch it!” A tall orc growls in front of you, sneering a huff in your direction. You had walked right into him without even realising, too focused in your own mind to notice the idiot lug of green mass blocking the front door.

“How about you get out of the doorway.” You spat back, looking up at the hideous beast. It felt like the tavern had gone silent upon seeing a tiny fae like yourself talk with such confidence towards such a beastly creature. But the beast did not falter at your words unlike the crowd, no, it laughed instead.

“And what are you going to do, pewny little pixie.” The orc hollowed, his wrinkled belly jiggling like a bowl of old porridge. Your face turned red, while your wings flared.

“I am not a pixie, you half-sighted boar!!” The tension in the pub thickened, seeing the large orc change colour. You had successfully angered the beast. In the corner of your eye, you can see the Orc reach for his hatchets, but before he could put skin to metal a whistle echoed through the hot air, stopping everyone's movements. 

"There you are." A deep voice caught everyone's attention. It was another orc, but only he was smaller, less green. It was Jeong Yunho, or more known as Stormcaller. “I thought I lost you.”

You gulped quietly at the feeling of his arm draping over your shoulder, his musky scent invading your senses. The orc that you have just been fighting with scoffed looking at the seemingly “display of affection”. In orc morals, if an orc has a claim on someone then another orc cannot do no harm. So with a frustrated grumble, the stinky lump goes to walk away.

“Let's get outta here, hmm.” Yunho's whisper was daring and seductive, a charm he always carried when he was around You. And as he held the door open, you couldn't help but feel annoyed for not doing anything. just to show off in front of the drunken idiots… So in a split second, you turned back to the orc who—had his back turned—using your magic to lift up his hatchet and drop it on his foot making the large beast let out a guttural howl.

“Dukhal…[Bastard].” You spat before exiting the establishment, a smirk on your face as you walked with Yunho who had an equally sly smirk painting on his perfect features.

-

“Do I even ask?” Hongjoong pinched his nose as he paced in front of you and Yunho.

“To be fair it was really fucking hot.” Yunho laughed while taking a sip from his waterskin. You blushed at his sly remark but your focus was on the sorcerer in front of you. You haven't seen Hongjoong since you were in his bed at some cheap cabin house during last winter. It wasn't the first time one of you had slipped into each other's company for a night. But there was something seeing him being here now that felt different from the rest.

Last time you and him were together he confessed, his team. His friends—that you were all too aware of—had been… curious about your relationship with their captain. In other words—well Wooyoung's words—“Do any of us have a shot.” You left quickly after that, without a word. You were overwhelmed. It wasn't that you hadn't thought about sleeping or being with any of them before. But actually accepting was another thing. It wasn't common to be in love with more than two people, let alone eight. You always felt like you were broken in that aspect. That something wasn't developed right in your head. So you ran… like you always do when it came to love.

“Well, you're glad the guild didn't disqualify us for it.” Hongjoongs stern words caught you from your thoughts.

“W-why would they disqualify you? I did it. Not Yunnie..” You picked at your fingernails as you bit the inner part of your cheek. You watched Hongjoong whip out a piece of paper from his back pocket. It was a quest sheet, one a Dungeon master gives you. It was for the hunt you tried to join today but what caught your eye was all the names on the sheet. His team and…you. 

“I had a feeling when you caught wind of this quest you'd come looking for a challenge.” His smile always made your stomach do flips. “That's why Yun was looking for you.” he snapped his gaze to the orc that was leaning against a fallen tree. “I just didn't think he would let anything like this happen.”

Yunho put his hands up in defeat but it was you to speak up. “It was my fault. I got carried away.” Hongjoong looked back at you, taking a step closer until his face was almost inches from yours. 

“I don't doubt that. You have always been one to cause a scene.” Hongjoong’s voice was low, sultry. It caused Yunho to stare intensely. Your face reddened more if that was even possible, desperately wanting nothing more than to seal your lips against his. But as a cough echoed from Yunho's directions, you looked away taking in a sharp breath. “Hm…Well, l-lets get to the camp. The others will be waiting for us.”

Your nerves rattled as you walked with Yunho and Hongjoong to where the rest of the team would be finishing up with packing the campsite. Readying themselves to start the quest. Yunho had taken your backpack even though you said you could carry it on your own. But as you heard Wooyoung's piercing scream you knew this was going to be a long adventure.

You stayed close to Hongjoong as you all walked to the “spelunca cupiditatis”. A cave system that most competitors never leave. No one knows what the unknown language was or who had named the caves but most people have come to terms that the translation must be “caves of death.

”We're here.” Yeosang who was standing at the front of the team, his tail swaying as he focused on the map. Everyone stopped to gaze at the entrance. There wasn't much death vibes coming from it?

“You really want to do this…” you heard Hongjoong's voice whisper beside you. Turning You see concern on his face. All of you knew how dangerous this journey was. You all knew that you might not come out of it alive, but it was a risk you were all willing to take. 

“Yes, Joong.” You grabbed his hand instinctively, letting the wandering eyes catch the obvious display of affection. “We do this together.”

Your smile always made Hongjoong feel better. If he was having a crap day he could always think about the times he made you laugh, your bright smile easing his heart. Your eyes fell from Hongjoong's for a moment, taking notice of all the men trying to pretend they were bluntly staring a moment ago. You couldn't help but giggle slightly, feeling a sudden tug to each of them in different ways. 

The twisted vines and jagged stones bearing witness to countless tales of desperation and ambition were now going to show the story of you and the team and as you take each step forward you hoped and prayed the story was going to have a happy ending. So your heart raced, not merely from fear, but from the presence of Hongjoong standing close, his hand barely touching your own. You were glad to have his comforting presence but it also began to cause a tingle in your throat. 

"We can do this," You whispered to yourself, trying to muster the confidence that had been wavering ever since you felt the bar. The energy was palpable as the eight men shifted uneasily, exchanging nervous glances that spoke volumes of the dread they shared. The “what ifs” loomed dangerously: what if they were the next failed adventurers? What if they never returned? Your what if were seemingly growing more and more worse by the second. Afraid of all of the boys' safety. What if they died trying to protect you? Trying to play hero was something they all had in common and it terrified you. 

You couldn’t bear the idea of losing any of them. Each connection you shared with them pulsed with its own rhythm, enchanting you more deeply. Hongjoong's with his intellect that intrigued you, Jongho's with his inhuman strength and siren-like voice that was always comforting, Yunho’s warmth that was always inviting, Wooyoung’s vampiric wit that sparked excitement with every glance, Ser San's honour inspired respect something you didn’t ever think to learn before meeting him, Seonghwa's darkness that beckoned your curiosity and kept you awake most nights, Mingi's caring and gentle nature that always made your heart swoon and finally Yeosang's charm was utterly captivating leaving you breathless every time he spoke to you.

You couldn’t lose any of them. They are all so important if one of them died you would never forgive yourself━“Angel?...Are you okay? You’re squeezing my hand pretty tight.” you hadn’t realised Hongjoong had sneakily grabbed your hand nor the fact you almost stopped the blood to his poor fingers. Loosening your grip you apologised without any context leaving Hongjoong in the dark. But before he could protest a loud gasp echoed in the chamber you all found yourselves in.

As you all stepped into the large room—determined, or perhaps foolish, as the door behind them slammed shut with a resounding echo. You felt your heart drop at the sound, knowing the first trial had begun. The room was a shocking contrast to the cave’s tunnels and foreboding entrance. Lavishly decorated, it felt eerily reminiscent of a cosy home with walls adorned in colours that hinted at warmth and something domesticated. Golden tapestries draping the sides, flowering vines climbing towards the ceiling. In the centre of the room sat a peculiar floating silver bowl, it's surface glittering against the odd ambience. Curiosity piqued, as you watched the boys approach the bowl, but the locked door at the far end caught Seonghwa’s attention. It felt like a challenge—a puzzle waiting to be solved. “Let’s figure out what this is,” Seonghwa suggested cautiously, running his fingers along the door before noticing hold wear marks like the door had not been opened in centuries… comforting.

San leaned over the bowl first, squinting at the ancient script engraved at the bottom through the water. “It’s fae-ish? Uh…” Yeosang had a gaze. “That's old ancient fae…”

You pushed the men aside, trying to shake off the looming fear as you took a look at the writing. You didn't know a lot of the old tongue, but you were able to piece the sentence together just. “To open is to be opened, and to love is to be one.”

“What does that even mean?” Yunho asked, scratching his head.

“I think it means we need to express our feelings,” Hongjoong mused, his brows furrowing as he considered the possibilities. “But it’s not going to be as easy as it sounds…

“Oh wait what if it's more than that!!”” Wooyoung interjected, his tone mischievous but his eyes betraying a spark of fear. “What if we, like, confess our secrets or something? Not just feelings? Maybe that’s the key!” He laughed, but a nervous energy laced his voice. All of you chuckled half-heartedly, the prospect of revealing hidden feelings uncomfortable. Yet, the idea lingered. After a brief debate, spurred on by Wooyoung’s folly. "I'll go first!" He declared, stepping forth a little too energetically. He started listing all his loves—how he cherished their friendship, how he admired each one of them—but when he finished, the bowl remained unresponsive and the door was still sealed tight.

“Incredible. You killed the vibe, Wooyoung,” Mingi teased, rolling his eyes. All of you stood there lost, maybe all of you had to confess something? Yeosang pitched the idea and though half of you didn't wish to be as embarrassing as Wooyoung, but you all knew it had to be done. So one by one, the guys took turns professing their feelings, but the bowl stubbornly remained silent. Feeling the weight of your own unspoken emotions, your heart pounded as you noticed Hongjoong's thoughtful gaze. Somehow, those soft eyes sent a current of courage through you as you took a deep breath.

"It's my turn, I guess.." you whispered, taking Hongjoonds hand gently. You could feel the warmth of his presence envelop you, making you almost forget about the pending entrapment. "I’m so sorry for running away. I was scared. I realised... I was in love with you. And the question you ask…I didn’t want to answer it in fear of upsetting you.” Tears pricked Your eyes, and you quickly turned to the bowl, your palms sweaty. And to your lost hope the door remained locked.

“Hey…” Hongjoong grabbed your chin softly so you would look at him again. 

“It..Didn’t work.” You felt so ashamed admitting to the single thing that's been eating at you and in front of not only Hongjoong but all of his team.

“It’s okay…We’ll figure it out.” Hongjoong wanted nothing more than to kiss your tears away right now but in the same breath was worried you’d recoil if he did. You just confessed you were in love with him and that was the reason why you ran when he offered his friends to you. You respected him too much to even admit that you had a slither of desire for his friends. “Let’s take a break, Wooyoung and Yeosang can get the food ready and use one of the torches to create a fire.” 

He took notice of the small air pockets in the roof so at least they wouldn’t die from loss of oxygen. All the men started to move around like nothing happened but you couldn’t stop thinking. What else did you need to say? Was love not enough? The ancient words echoed in your mind over and over again., “to love is to be one…To love… is to be…” A gasp left your lips as you understood now: it wasn’t just about a confession. With renewed determination, you took a step back, making Hongjoongs hold of your slip. “I know what we’re missing…”

Without thought, you took a bold step, holding Hongjoong’s hands in yours as he tried to walk you to the others, his eyebrow raised as he tried to question. “What are we missing?”

“There is an ancient story in my culture about two lovers that built tunnels to hide their love…along with their treasure.” You looked at each of the men, only half of them following with what you were saying. “The story had gotten lost in translation over the years but the basis of it is that the only way to reach their treasure was to ‘become one.’” It was like all the lights went on in their heads as you said the last line given it matched the writing in the bowl.

“That still doesn’t explain what we are missing,” San interjected.

“Yes, it does…” You smile feeling proud you figured it out. “When they say become one, they mean to connect in a showcase of love…” You look back to Hongjoong. “This isn’t about telling each other how much we love one another. It’s about showing it…”

The room was deadly silent, Hongjoong and the others quickly sensing what you were meaning. The door wanted a display of affection, aka, sex. “So that means…” Wooyoung spoke up.

“We gotta fuck to open the door,” Yeosang said bluntly with arms crossed.

You suddenly felt yourself being drawn into a web of lust and anticipation. Waiting to see what anyone might add. But as you watched Hongjoong lean down towards your ear you felt your breath hitch. "Every single man here wants to taste what's between your thighs, angel. They want to feel your soft skin, hear your moans, and watch you lose control. What I told you that night was true. We all want you…for a while now.”

Your heart quickened as a wave of heat washed over you. The thought of being desired by all men at once was almost too much to bear. Maybe you weren’t as broken as you thought. "I want  it…" You whispered, your voice catching in your throat. "I love all of you..."

“That’s my girl.” You could feel Hongjoong’s sly smirk against your ear as he suddenly stood up straight, taking you by the hand and leading you to the centre of the room. The others watched with hooded eyes, their cocks already beginning to stir with excitement and anticipation.

“This is really happening?!” Wooyoung gasped but Jongho was quick to elbow him causing the poor vampire to let out a wheeze.

“Shut the fuck up.” Was all Jongho said as they all went back to focusing on their leader and you. Slowly, Hongjoong began to undress you, peeling away your clothes layer by layer. His touch was delicate as if one wrong move would cause you to break. You felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest at the sheer thought of being bare in front of all of them. But as Hongjoong untied the string to your undercoat, it fell breathlessly off your shoulders, leaving you completely naked for all of their hot gazes to eye.

The cool night air that slipped into the cave caressed your exposed skin, leaving goosebumps and shivers down your spine. Hongjoong's fingers traced the curves of your body, his touch both gentle and possessive. Spinning you around so your back couldn’t be flush against his chest, he brought his hands up to cup your breasts, thumbing your erect nipples, while his tongue flicked out to taste the sensitive flesh of your neck. Giving all the boys a perfect display of him playing with your body. You moaned, your head falling back against his shoulder in surrender. You could feel Hongjoong's hard cock pressing against your ass, but he teasingly denied you both the pleasure of going any further.. no, not yet. He wanted to savour the moment. He needed to watch all his friends lose their composure.

So Instead, he thought of an idea, lifting you effortlessly, by using his magic to support you in the air slightly, he sank to his knees in front of you, positioning your pussy directly in front of his face. Hongjoong's tongue flicked out, licking your slit from bottom to top, causing you to cry out, your hands flying for his soft locks. He latched onto your clit, sucking and nibbling as his fingers plunged into your wet cunt quickly. Your hazy eyes stared down at him for a moment before catching the gaze of all the other men in the room. Each of them displaying their own build of need on their expressions while a few started to palm their own cocks through their pants. Your hips bucked uncontrollably as you neared your high, your juices coating Hongjoong's face, some even dripping down his chin and neck.

Out of all the boys, it was Seonghwa who couldn't contain himself any longer. Moving closer, his golden eyes piercing you while his dragon form shimmered just beneath the surface of his human appearance. He reached out, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, rolling and tugging them gently as he leaned in to nuzzle your neck. His flaming hot breath and sharp teeth left marks on your delicate skin. As he kissed and nibbled his way up your jaw before his clawed fingers gripped your chin to look at him.

“Such a sweet little fae. A soft little rabbit.” You could hear the dragon beneath his breath, steam pooling out his nose as he huffed. Breaking one of your hands from Hongjoongs hair, you came to rest it on Seonghwa’s cheek, beckoning him to close the gap between you. “You want a kiss baby?”

His sweet almost taunting words made our cunt clench around Hongjoong’s fingers, feeling yours tread closer towards the edge. “Please, Hwa. I want you to kiss him.”

You were desperate, wanting to know how the dragon would kiss. Is he a slow and sensual lover or does he fuck with roughness and passion? “Since you asked nicely…” He rotated his fingers from your chin to squeeze your cheek together pushing your lips out. And without another thought, he sealed his slips on yours. You could almost feel the fire on his tongue as he practically shoved the large snake-like appendage down your throat.

You gagged slightly, whimpers mixing with light coughs but you ended up finding the rhythm to breathe through your nose. But what caught you off guard was suddenly feeling another body on the other side of you. You couldn’t look over to see who it was but when you heard the grunt in your ear you could take a guess. “You look so cute, doll. So tiny compared to all of us.”

It was Yunho and of course, this huge orc of a man had a thing for sizes. He was busy palming his large cock that was straining against his pants. He released his erection in the next second, stroking its impressive length as he groped one of your plump breasts, rolling your sensitive nipple between his fingers, while his long tongue licked along your neck. Your body felt like it was on fire, the pleasure building to an unbearable level. Hongjoong's skilled fingers and tongue pushed you over the edge, while Yunho and Seonghwa’s tongues and hands worked their magic. You screamed as your orgasm ripped through you, your slick squirting and drenching Hongjoong's face and chest.

Hongjoong stood, still holding you, and looked at his friends with a satisfied smile, licking his lips as he panted. "So…Whose fucking her first?" he asked, his voice laced with challenge and lust, a cheeky pip making all the boys look at one another trying to figure out how they could possibly choose. Before anyone could respond, Wooyoung took it upon himself to take you for a spin. Using his vampire speed in a blur, he snatched you from Hongjoong's and the other's arms. He positioned you over one of the old chair-like couches, your hands grasping the rough split wood as he lined up his throbbing cock with your soaked pussy. 

And with a swift thrust, he impaled you, his length disappearing inside you in one smooth motion. Your and his screams mixed as the pleasure overwhelmed both of you, your body vibrating with the force of Wooyoung's frantic drilling. He pounded into you with his jaw slack, never feeling a better feeling than this. His hips were almost a blur, his cock fucking you deeper and deeper as he swore. “Fuck, you’re pussy is so fucking tight. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Are you sure Hongjoong has ever fucked you? You feel like a fucking virgin.”

The sound of his frantic jackhammering filled the room, wet flesh slapping against even more so wet flesh, your desperate moans, and Wooyoung's grunts of pleasure. The others watched in awe and slight jealousy. None of them even got to have a say on who went first, making them feel the possessiveness brew in their guts. Wanting nothing more than to have their turns. They all had their own hands working their cocks as they witnessed the erotic display of Wooyoung pounding you while you struggled to stay upright on the rickety chair. “WOo arh! AHH Wooyoung!!!”

Wooyoung's speed increased, and you could feel his vampire lust taking over. His fangs lengthened as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "I'm going to fill that tight cunt with my cum, baby. You're going to take every last drop fucking drop while I get a taste of your sweet blood.”

“Yes! Yes! Please, b-bite me.” You have no clue where your filter went but it clearly was left outside the cave. You heard a dark chuckle from the undead man pounding you and before you could beg again you felt his sharp fangs pierce your soft skin. His grunt as he drank from you, sent your mind spiralling as you quickly fell into another orgasm, your walls clenching around Wooyoung's thick cock tightly making the vampire tip over to his own release. His growls were almost primal, feeling your pussy clench around him while he tasted your blood rushing through him. He slammed into you one last time, his cock twitching as he flooded you with his cold cum, finally unlatching his fangs from you, making sure to lick up the wound so it could heal.

You slumped forward, as Wooyoung gently lowered you completely onto the chair. He kissed your cheek before grabbing your chin so he could seal his lips against your own, his tongue exploring your mouth as he let you taste your own blood.

"Damn, that was a sight," Hongjoong said, a smile playing on his lips as he crossed his arms. "But we're not done yet, are we, Angel?" He points to the door, seeing it hasn’t moved even an inch. You, still catching your breath, looked up at the circle of lustful men surrounding you making you visibly gulp with a small smile.

Sitting up slightly to sit on your ass, while biting your lip as you spread your legs to show all Wooyoung’s cum drip out of your puffy cunt. It was like it hypnotised all of them but without as much as a peep, Mingi came stomping over, as you suddenly found yourself in his powerful grip.

He spun you around, so he could take your place on the chair as his eyes darkened with lust, lowering you onto his lap. You gasped as you felt his thick cock sink deep into your sensitive pussy without a care. And to say this man was fucking huge all over, he was fucking huge all over. Stretching you further than you thought possible, and you couldn't help but moan loudly, your screams bouncing off the walls in sheer desperation.

Mingi growled, a low deep sound that sent shivers down your spine and tingles in your tummy. He began to move, thrusting up into you with fierce, rapid snaps of his hips. Your nails dug into his chest, scratching lines into his tanned skin as he marked your hips with his strong grip. The sensation of being fucked so roughly had your head spinning and seeing stars. Your cries grew louder, your voice hoarse and filled with need. But if that wasn't enough, Yeosang joined you. He grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. You let out a yelp at the sting while his other hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his intense almost sadistic gaze. Then, without warning, and a big sly smirk, he sunk his cock into your waiting mouth. You moaned around his length, your eyes rolling back as you tried to relax your throat to take him in whole. Yeosang began to move, fucking your face with the same precision and determination that Mingi had. Your mouth filled with the taste of him, making you crave more. “That’s it pet, your throat is so warm. Are you going to let me paint this pretty face? Hmm?”

Mingi and Yeosang moved together in a frenzied rhythm. Mingi's cock pounded into your pussy, hitting your deepest spots, while Yeosang used your mouth for his own pleasure, holding your head in a tight grip as he thrusted deep. The sting tickled down your throat and the burn was tight in your jaw but you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body trembling with the effort of holding back your orgasm. Mingi must have sensed you were close because he reached down, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in firm circles. Your cries were muffled by Yeosang’s cock while your juices flowed as you came hard, your pussy clenching around Mingi tightly. With a loud grunt, he emptied himself into you, his hot cum mixing with Wooyoung's, filling you to the brim.

“Fuuuckk.” Mingi moaned at the same time, Yeosang pulled out of your mouth, jerking himself quickly as he shot his load all over your face and tits, marking you with his release. You panted, your body spent, but you had little time to recover as the next man stepped forward to claim you.

“My turn, honey…” Jongho, using his inhuman strength, he lifted you up easily, wrapping your legs around his waist as he held you up against the nearby wall. You smiled lazily at him as he used what seemed like to be his shirt to wipe off Yeosang’s cum from your face. He gently licked the rest of Yeo’s seed, before kissing your cheeks tenderly. “Such a pretty baby…”

His sweet murmurs made your heart skip and your tummy tingle as you giggle. He held you close, gently stroking your hair as the other hand that held your thigh squeezed gently, easing the ache in your limbs. Your arms wrap naturally around his neck, reciprocating his love but gifting him kisses in return. But as he lifted you higher slowly, you knew what you were in for. His cock was already slick with your juices as he sunk into you carefully taking his time with you. His lips captured your cries as he devoured your mouth losing himself with every inch that sinks deeper inside your ruined cunt. You tasted Yeosang on his tongue, and it only served to heighten your forever-growing arousal.

Jongho may have started off softly paced but his thrusts soon became relentless, pounding into you with his superhuman strength, his thick cock hitting your sweet spot over and over. You couldn’t help but squirm in his hold, your legs tightening around his waist as you bucked your hips out of rhythm, feeling another orgasm building, quicker than the last. And just as you were about to fall over the edge, you felt your body being taken away from the wall, as it was replaced with a warm body and another cock nudging the entrance to your pussy. San’s charming chuckle made your foggy mind spin as he whispered in your ear, "Take a deep breath, beautiful,"

And then he was pushing into you alongside Jongho. The sensation of being so full sent you into a frenzy, and you came uncontrollably as if you had lost all control over your body. Your cunt clenched around both cocks as your juices squirted out, soaking the floor below you. The display was erotic within itself, as all the men kept their stares on the fresh entertainment. Jongho couldn't hold on any longer, and with a roar, he stopped his hips with a staggering whine, filling your puffy pussy with his hot seed. San followed soon after, his cock twitching as he emptied himself into also. You felt so full with four different loads deep inside you. You could feel it slowly drip out of you as one cock pulls out of you and a new one replaces it. You felt like a used sex toy, used, abused and completely satisfied.

You slumped against Jongho, your body spasming slightly from the overstimulation but you surprisingly begged for more. Your teary eyes glanced at the door for a moment, a part of you was wishing it was opened already so you could relax. But the other part wanted it to only open after you had your fill of each man in the room. And speaking of them…There were now just two men left, and they approached you with hungry eyes. Seonghwa and Yunho, each presented a tempting offer of passion, roughness and a lingering darkness… Yunho growled, his voice deep and rumbling, "It's time for the main event, little one."

Seonghwa had laid out a sleeping bag, a devious smile on his face. Yunho, gently but firmly, grabbed your figure from the other men before laying you down, your limbs splayed as you basked in the afterglow of your previous highs while also finally getting to relax without standing or being uncomfortably in the air. Yunho positioned himself between your legs, his cock a stunning green and unnaturally large. You couldn't help but bite your lip as you anticipated him, your pussy already beginning to throb with need. “Y-your so big…”

“I get told that a lot.” Yunho’s voice was cocky, charming and deep. He knew he was good and it showed. His hands grabbed the back of your legs where your knees crease, bending you almost in half. Your pussy was wide on display at this angle but there was no time to gawk as Yunho sunk into you slowly, his cock stretching you to your limits. You were mentally glad San and Jongho had fucked you together now to help you with this sting of Yunho almost breaking you.

You couldn't help but moan nonetheless, your nails digging into the sleeping bag as you tried to adjust to his size as quickly as you could. Once he was fully bottomed out inside you, he studied your face. Watching your brows knit and bend with a painful pleasure. He began to move, his hips snapping forward with each thrust while his balls slapped against your ass loudly. If you weren't so drunk on the idea of being passed around, maybe you’d be embarrassed by the sound. But right now all you cared about was getting this large orc’s cum deep inside your cunt.

Seonghwa came to stand beside you both, and with a gentle hand, he tilted your head up, urging you to take him in your mouth. With wide eyes you did so willingly, your gaze fluttering closed in pleasure as you sucked his length. Seonghwa threaded his fingers into your hair, holding you in place as he began to fuck your face, his hips moving in tandem with Yunho's. “What do you know, you’re throat does feel good, fuck.”

“You should try this pussy.” Yunho grunted, spitting onto your clit before rubbing it harshly. “I could stay in it forever.”

You were in complete ecstasy, your body being used exactly as you had always craved. Pleasuring all your boys, gifting them what they desire while also taking your own pleasure. You couldn’t ever ask for more. You scratched your nails down Seonghwa's thighs, marking his perfect skin as you felt Yunho's cock reach places no one ever had. Your pussy was on fire in the best way, and you could feel the bulge of his cock deep in your tummy as if he could literally rearrange your guts. You knew Yunho was huge, but the sensation of being so utterly filled was indescribable.

Seonghwa moaned, his hands tightening in your hair as he grew closer to the edge, moaning your name over and over. You looked up at him, your eyes glazed with lust, and you felt a wave of confidence to suck him harder, your throat relaxing to take him in deeper. Seonghwa groaned, his cock twitching as his hips stuttered, “Fuck fuck fuck. Lord nargh…” He filled your mouth with his release, his cum coating your throat as you tried your best to swallow it all.

Yunho, too, was close, his grunts and the slapping of his hips against your ass the only sounds in the spacious cave. And with one final thrust, he buried himself as deep inside you as he could, coming with an endless amount. His cock pulsed as he shot his thick load, letting you feel him twitching and shifting inside you. His fingers did not cease as he was on a mission to make your pussy throb with satisfaction. “Come on baby, cum for me. I wanna feel you cream around my huge fucking cock.”

You screamed, Seonghwa suddenly pulling out of you while you tightened around Yunho. He felt a second load empty as you milked him dry. He quickly pulled out right after, his cock slipping from your pussy with a wet pop. Laying on the sleeping bag, your body sticky with cum and satisfied beyond measure. The eight men stood around you, their eyes hungry as they admired their handy work. It was almost as if you all forgot where you were or why you were there in the first place.

But suddenly it was like the air shifted. The door behind all of you had creaked open, light spilling into the room like a promise of hope, illuminating your path forward. You sat up slowly with the help of Seonghwa and Hongjoong, smiles painted on all your faces. Leaning against Hongjoong’s chest you took a breath before speaking with a hoarse but soft voice.

“It worked…”

[bunnys-kisses]

team principal

max verstappen - team principal au

cw: smut/pwp, driver!reader, team principal!max, age gap (20/45), power dynamic, (slight) bratty behavior, groping, driver's room sex, oral sex (max receives)

as requested by anon: Driver!reader asking team principal max verstappen for a custom line of all pink and feminine merch because the orange just “washes her out” so he does. And he goes ALL out, bright pink Verstappen Racing flare leggings, and baby tee’s with the MV logo plastered on the chest bc what she wants she gets.

like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own! <3

being part of verstappen racing meant wearing their logo. it had been the logo that max verstappen himself raced with. the 'm' and the 'v' were known prior to the establishment of the f1 team. every team had their logo from ferrari's stallion to red bull's, well, bulls. even teams like hamilton motorsports had their logo.

the problem with max verstappen's merch wasn't the logo, it was how god awful ugly it was. you had a selection of some of the ugliest merch on the planet. why was it all orange?

you had been convinced that your team principal, your boss, only saw the world through orange hues. that was everything was a shade of orange so awful that it would make mclaren blush!

"this is ugly. this is ugly. this is somehow worse! this looks like a halloween collection rather than actual merch. mister verstappen you make more money than anyone i know, hire someone with design sense!" you shook the shirts in your hand.

you knew that almost every driver on the grid couldn't talk to their boss like that. but it was an poorly kept secret that max verstappen had a soft spot for you. he also fucked you two ways to sunday on a weekly, if not daily basis.

max chuckled and leaned back a little in his office chair, "brand integrity is important, schat. a recognizable brand is important to its value."

you made a face, "well, your brand looks like spirit halloween threw up all over the place." then put the items down forcefully. you put your hands on your hips, "and shouldn't brands take risks? try something new? all of you use the same colours, cuts and styles. it's boring!"

max asked, "then what do you have in mind? since you know so much about a brand. i've been doing this since i was seventeen. almost thirty years, schat. longer than you've known how to walk let alone drive." he raised his eyebrows, "since you know so much, dazzle me with your proposal."

max would let his precious driver bark like a yapping dog. but he knew how to keep you quiet. he watched you cower for a moment, realizing that you took it a step too far. max smiled with his face rested against his fist.

you swallowed, "maybe something a little more... feminine.. pink. something cute." you leaned forward at his desk a little, the shirt you wore was his and was a little big on you. your movements revealed the start of a hickey he left on your shoulder the night prior, "mister verstappen, you have the first female driver in a long time. we... could lean into that a little. make it cute!"

max leaned forward in his chair and rested his arms on his desk, "cute? verstappen racing is supposed to imposing. strength on the track, and you want pink." he chuckled a little, "the alternate logo besides the initials is a lion. lions aren't cute."

you looked at him, "what about that lion stuffed animal you got me? that's cute. i sleep with it every night." you then pouted a little, a look that always made max weak. you shrugged your shoulders a little as you had your hands behind your back. you swayed a little and suggested, "plus, i could model it as well."

max may have known how to shut you up, but you knew how to make the older man weak in the knees. he sighed and kept his gaze on you, his expression a little softer, "fine. we'll see what we can do, schat. maybe you're right about needing to do something a little different. but i hope you know, whatever item we end up with. you have to show off for me."

your pout dropped and was replaced with a smile. you leaned over the desk to be closer to him and kissed him on the mouth. you held his face and smiled against the kiss. when you eventually pulled away, max watched your turn around to skip out of his office. you said to him as you looked over your shoulder, "thank you, mister verstappen."

-

max verstappen had seen enough in his over forty years on this planet. he had seen many beautiful women over the years, but when he walked into your driver's room and saw you in the newest verstappen merch, he almost fell on his ass. he had seen the line of merch before it got into your hands, but to see you in them was another story.

you were in a pink skirt from home that was almost the exact colour of the baby pink of the baby tee that you were wearing. laid out on the couch of the room was the rest of the merch. the flare leggings, the bucket hat, the baseball cap, a form fitting tank top and even an oversized button up.

all in sickening baby pink.

so much for verstappen being predators on the track. not when you were sickeningly beautiful in the clothing. max held onto the door to the room for a moment to compose himself before he stepped in and shut the door loudly behind him.

"oh!" you perked up as you turned away from the mirror to look at your boss. you smiled at him, "hello, sir." seeing the logo of the team across your tits made his eyes go wide.

"hi." he said as he swallowed, "did they give you the wrong size?" he stepped forward and reached out for you, "and where did you get this skirt?"

you smiled, "oh! this is supposed to be my right size. that's just how the tee are!" he could see your curves and a bit of your stomach. you then added, "and the skirt is from home. i bought it for a matching outfit thing." you swayed your hips from side to side.

this was supposed to be your outfit for media day. something to show off the brand. max scratched the back of his neck and stepped forward. he placed his hands on your hips and gazed at you.

"you're not going out like this. no, no. there has to be something else to wear." he approved all of the items. he saw them from concept to final product. and now you were in the driver's room looking like a whore.

"what about it?" you pouted.

he pulled at the bottom of your shirt and you yelped as it was taken over your head. he made a small disappointed noise as he tossed the shirt to the side. he licked his lips at the sight of your breasts. this was beyond any code violation. if you two got caught. but it was better than you walking around the media section in that shirt.

"you look like you're selling sex rather than the brand! you look like a whore." he said as he held onto your hips. he could feel the leap in his chest at the sight of your breasts on full display for him. only for him.

"doesn't sex sell, mister verstappen?" you said as you pouted a little and you were pulled up against him. your hands on the front of his button up, with his logo on it. you spread your hand across his chest, he noticed that your nails were painted the same pretty pink as the merch. you held onto him as he took you by the ass to press up against him.

"not this kind of sex. this is an invitation for you to cause problems. what if that skirt flips up? what if your nipples poke through the shirt. what is the press got the wrong idea and thought you were a slut." he explained. he spoke like you were a bratty girl who needed to be scolded. to be taught the right way.

you pouted further, "i'm not a slut."

max pushed up your pink tennis skirt over your ass and grabbed handfuls of your ass. it made you yelp and max closed in the space between your lips. before he kissed he said, "i know you're not. but, when you dress like this, you look like one." then kissed you deeply.

his strong hands groped your ass as you felt his cock up against your middle. you shuddered at the feeling of it. you knew that max was quite big. you squirmed a little against him and kissed him deeper.

when he pulled away, he got you down on the couch roughly. you bounced a little and looked up at him. you stuck your chest out a little more and max looked down at you as he rubbed his cock through his slacks. for one of the top racers in the world, you sure looked beautiful below him.

"mister verstappen." you said before you were met with his cock in your face. you didn't say much else but rather wrapped your lips around his cock and let him hold the back of your head. you placed your hands on his strong thighs for support as you took his cock as deep as you could take it.

max shuddered at the feeling of you. you felt like a dream in his grasp. a beauty beyond all others. despite the age gap and the power dynamics, max knew that he could make you top of the grid. you'd be winning championships that would make other drivers jealous.

as you sucked his cock, max saw your future. world champion of formula one. pretty trophies in your apartment in monaco. he already had you in a multi-year contract and no clause to get out of it. first wear the verstappen racing logo then have the verstappen last name. only fitting for a champion after all.

a strong driver needs a strong last name. and as you looked up at him with that soft gaze of yours he panted a little heavier. all dolled up for him, in his merch. you were right about the need for cuter clothes, that orange washed you out. you looked cuter in the soft pinks.

"you look good like this." he said as he tapped your nose and you made a playful noise. too precious, too beautiful for him. he loved the sight of you seated with his cock in your mouth.

you continued to suck him off and max got both hands in your hair. he pressed you up against him a little tighter and let your throat clench around his cock. he remembered the first time you sputtered and coughed when he came in your mouth. but now you took it all like the champion he knew you were.

"you're going to do so well for the press." he said, "answer all their questions. be a good girl. you know you will be. just like you are now, taking me so beautifully." he patted your cheek lovingly before he pulled you further onto his cock once more.

he watched you shudder against him as you tried to take his entire length. you could almost feel his pubic hair against your nose as you whined against him. you whined a little bit from the back of your throat and continued to suck him off. you brought him pleasure that made the team principal see stars.

he cupped your face in those large hands for a moment, "you like that don't you? having me in your throat, you're so beautiful. i don't know if anyone told you about the bidding war to get you on my team." your eyes fluttered shut and he exhaled deeply, "had to play dirty."

you whimpered in response. you didn't know about the bidding war for you a year earlier. you knew that you had a few offers when you ended up in formula one.

those blue eyes looked down at you and max licked his lips. you could feel his gaze on you as he continued to rock up into your throat. he panted a little, he could feel his shirt cling to his toned back from the sweat. "not easy to get under hamilton's skin. but i got him to back off, the same with red bull. i only wanted the best and i got it. now she's sucking my cock and wearing my logo."

you whined a little bit and it was music to max's ears. you were his prize. your teammate was good too, but max didn't hear church bells when he was around. you were max's pet project, that he just simply happened to fuck often.

he'd make you a champion. team principals played favourites all the time, and max in a way was no better than them. at least max got something else out of it. those pretty soft lips around his cock. he held onto you tightly as he continued to thrust into your mouth.

you clung to him as you could feel the ache in your throat. you kept your eyes closed and you were wet between the thighs. max briefly got more aggressive with his thrusts before he finished in your mouth. you whimpered and swallowed it eagerly.

the salty taste in your mouth was familiar and you opened your eyes to look at your boss. when you pulled your mouth off of his cock. you kissed the tip and smiled at him a little.

if max had more time, he'd be making a full mess of you. but the press would want to see the star of the track soon enough. he rubbed his cock up against your lips and nose before he said, "i want you to wear the merch next time i fuck you. you're mine, got it?"

you nodded softly and said, "yes, mister verstappen. always."

when you did the interview, you still wore the outfit. despite protests from your boss. you were all smiles for the camera, but max lingered close by. just in case someone got the wrong idea. as if max's name and logo weren't plastered across your pretty tits. but, it did get the older man thinking as he watched from a short distance.

max's mind wandered to other ways to have you wear his logo. he wondered if collars and chokers were still popular with young women. he wondered if he could get you in something with a tag with his name on it. maybe it wouldn't be sold as merch for the public, but he wouldn't mind if his star driver wore it. <3

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Pollen and Pheromones

Kinktober Day 13: Sex Pollen

Male Alpha Yandere x Gender Neutral Omega Reader CW: Noncon, sex pollen, aphrodisiac, pheromones, knotting, biting, claiming bite, stranded, spaceship crash, sci-fi, outer space, alien planet, a/b/o dynamics, bigotry/prejudice against omegas, rivalry, breeding, general yandere behavior, tsundere, betrayal Word Count: 1.6k (Enjoy this kinktober meal I have prepared <3)

"Star log: This is Pilot 2418 currently operating vessel Starlion: Orion. I am currently on route to pass the threshold of our galaxy in less than five minutes."

You were a shuttle pilot, one of the Exploration Guild's best. Ever since humanity had achieved interplanetary travel, they had sought to extend themselves ever further. With the new drift-space drives, that dream was now a reality.

They were only currently suited for small 1 to 2 man shuttlecraft, and only a couple such craft had been made. Two different ones had been commissioned through the guild, with both pilots competing to see who could exit the Milky Way first. The new drive could only be used in bursts to prevent overloading, so the journey had still taken a few months. But it seemed like you were about to succeed. Then you could make a U-turn and start drift-jumping back towards the nearest station.

Since you were an omega, this was a great achievement, a notice to the universe that your kind could do whatever betas and alphas could. You would be able to help stamp out the lingering bigotry and inspire others all with one action.

You were just about to cross the finish line!

Suddenly, your opponent, Tetsunori, came out of drift-space behind you. He had been your long-time rival, with both of you being about equally skilled.

But this was unacceptable to him as he was an alpha and held to the knothead mindset that an omega's place was bouncing on an alpha's prick or maybe in a teaching or nursing job.

You weren't worried, though. You had a solid lead. There was no way he could close the gap.

You rolled your eyes at the incoming transmission.

"Why don't you just give up now? If you surrender nicely, I'll let you celebrate my victory by letting you keep my knot warm!"

The temptation to reply was too great.

"Ha! You may be good at navigating the stars, but I doubt you have ever found your way into an omega."

Conversing with him hadn't distracted you or made you pause, so he growled as he switched to another plan. He fired on his tractor beam.

What the fuck, was he insane? Stooping so low to make sure you couldn't have a historic moment? You fired an equal and opposite tractor beam through his, which forced him to disengage. Something only possible because both ships were similar in size and energy output. Did he think you were some amateur?

In a desperate bid to prevent you from winning, Tetsunori rammed his shuttle into yours.

This type of bumping wasn't unheard of. It wasn't lethal if both ships were similar and had their shields up. But the bouncing was pretty strong for both parties, which is why it was a last-ditch effort. It could push you past the line, or it could bump him further. Neither of those things happened, though.

Instead, you careened right into the gravitational pull off a planet. You did everything you could to slow down and stabilize, but nothing seemed to be working.

Tetsunori sped after you in his spacecraft as he spoke into the comm link.

"I'm sorry, oh my god, I'm so sorry! I just had to be first! What omega would want to be mates with someone who they bested??"

You didn't have time for his weird ass confession and barely registered it. Your shields were still online and he had started pulsing his tractor beam to slow you down, full usage of it at such speeds could rip your ship apart, thankfully he wasn't an amateur either and knew that.

You put all available power and quickly put it into overloading the shields. You hit the emergency crash button, and two nozzles came out from the sides of the cockpit and sprayed you with a rapidly drying foam that would reduce damage to you if you got flung about the ship. Tetsunori's reckless and speedy entry into the atmosphere may have been enough to save you, but he had lost control of his vessel as well.

As you crashed, he careened away and crash-landed as well.

It was a good thing the high-tech impact reduction foam was so effective. Despite having shields, the ship was still shaken pretty badly, and the inertial dampeners weren't powerful enough to thwart damage from such a landing.

You took stock of the condition of your systems.

Almost everything was fried. You could at least scan the planet. It seemed like you had actually lucked out. In the entire galaxy planets that supported life were incredibly rare. But you had landed on one.

It seemed there were no known biological hazards present. No recognized toxins, dangerous bacteria, or viral agents. You were cleared to remove your suit. The temporary foam had started to dissolve, so it wasn't hard to remove.

The scanner also indicated there was a strong human life sign. It appeared that Tetsunori was okay.

You took the survival kit from underneath your seat as well as some beverages and rations you had procured at the last station and headed in the direction of dust and smoke in the distance.

You didn't even need the ship's scanner to tell you that the great imbecile, Tetsunori had landed there.

As you got closer, you stepped into a field of flowers that surrounded the entire crash site. You were probably still a mile away, but all around you were odd glittery silver and gold flowers.

The smell of them made you just slightly lightheaded and tingly. You realized the tiniest bit of slick was dribbling down your leg. They must be an aphrodisiac. The scanner hadn't warned you of anything in the air that was truly dangerous, so it probably wouldn't matter very much. And it really didn't. For you. As you trudged through the flowers and pollen, the effects did not get worse.

But for Tetsunori, the pollen was much stronger. When it hit his nostrils, it immediately put him into rut. Not a typical rut either, one of the ruts you see in pornos where the alpha is almost feral and unable to control their mating drive. When you came upon him, he was sitting on a piece of debris from his shit and rocking back and forth in clear distress. Through his outfit, his bulge was immediately visible.

"T-tetsunori? Uh... are you okay? D-did you get hurt in the crash?"

You took a step back when he looked up at you. His eyes were red, giving him a demonic appearance.

"The flowers, I think... they... UGH! My thoughts are all jumbled..."

He started to rub and massage his crotch desperately. He finally caught a whiff of your scent, ripe from the recent hike over to him and from being without a proper shower since your last space station stop. Not to mention the smell of the slick the aphrodisiac had coaxed out of you.

He started wildly sniffing at the air.

"Y-you smell so nice. You can help!"

You started backing away slowly.

"Uh... help with what?"

He got up and closed the difference between the two of you. Sweat had his dark hair clinging to his head. He was significantly taller and looked down at you intensely before sniffing and licking your neck with lazy broad strokes.

"S-smell so gooood. Always wanted to knot youuuu~"

You tried to push him off.

"Tetsunori! St-stop!"

You slapped, smacked, kicked, punched, and flailed, but nothing you did deterred him in the slightest.

"I'm sorry, but I fucking n-need this!"

He pinned you to the ground, clawing and biting off all your clothing until only your underwear was left, he removed it more delicately before inhaling its scent deeply and putting it in his pocket for later.

"Please don't do this, Tetsunori, PLEASE!"

He looked down at you, and it seemed like he was genuinely trying to resist before the pollen-charged rut won out.

Tetsunori unzipped his pants and let his drooling cock and full heavy balls out.

"G-gonna put all my babies in you! Have to! Have to!"

The lust-drunk alpha wasted no more time in ramming into you, an insertion that would have been more difficult had the pollen not slicked you up. Though it was still sudden and slightly painful.

"A-aaah!"

You tried to kick at him, but he growled viciously before pushing you into a mating press and slobbering all over your neck with his eager tongue.

The pollen must have increased the potency of his pheromones, or at least your susceptibility to them, because his musk was starting to cloud your thoughts.

Your grunts of pain became gasps of pleasure as your body quickly accommodated to his large size. You winced as he bit down hard on your neck to claim you. He kept right on fucking into you without skipping a beat.

He licked and kissed the lightly bleeding bite mark, some part of him remembering to comfort you despite his dominating need to fill you with cock. And by that point, the last of your resistance finally melted away.

"T-tetsunoriiiiii~" You moaned as your toes curled and body twitched in orgasm.

He growled your name in response and gave a few hard, deep thrusts before cumming as deeply as possible.

A comforting fullness filled your hole as his knot locked the two of you together. He pulled you close as he sat down so that you were in his lap facing him. The two of you caught your breath, then remained in an awkward silence until his knot deflated.

"G-got it out of your system?"

"Yeah... for the most part... sorry about that..."

You lifted yourself off of his lap, his half hard cock springing free with a lewd plopping sound.

"Well... it wasn't your fault. It was just the pollen..."

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into his lap, his cock ramming directly into you, then began humping.

"Well... it wasn't just the pollen..."