#but i tag like this always when i talk about one of my muses so

[stupidlittlespirit]

Rating: SFW Type: Longford, multi-chapter, Ford Pines x reader Word count: 7339  Tags: Fluff (lots), no pronouns used, Ford being silly, housekeeper!Reader My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3! Ch.1 here In which a simple expedition with Ford goes increasingly sideways and you learn more than enough about thermodynamics to last you a lifetime.

This chapter: Ford shows off in the woods and you get to muse lyrical about him while you tag along.

“Just for the record,” Ford says as he leads you along a narrow path into the treeline. “My brother is right.”

Stepping carefully over a fallen log, you glance up at him and frown, confused at his meaning. “How so?”

Ford watches you from the corner of his eye as he walks, a tiny smirk ghosting across his mouth. “Technically, I am experimenting on you….”

Oh shit. Your stomach somersaults nervously. Just how much of that conversation did he overhear….?

“He was just kidding around,” you hurry to clarify, attempting to brush Ford’s comments off with a weak laugh. “I'm not-!”

“Oh, so you don't enjoy being my test subject?” Ford asks, and much to your surprise, he seems to be fighting a teasing grin. “You wound me.”

You’re so taken off guard by his unexpected ribbing that you almost trip over your own feet.

Though Ford has his own wicked, dry sense of humour hidden underneath his many layers, it isn’t often that he dares to be so outright playful with you.

You’ve had your moments with one another, no matter how rare, and though you’re not the strangers you had been at the beginning of your job, it’s still always a surprise when he acts so impish around you.

From the moment you’d come on board, it had been crystal clear that Stan was the social butterfly out of the two. Even with his occasionally grumpy demeanour, the man is capable of bantering over absolutely anything, of spinning a yarn about the stupidest of things on the spot like it’s the easiest thing in the world for him. He’s joked with you plenty of times before that he’d been the twin to soak up all the charisma in the womb while Ford had gotten everything else and for the most part, he isn’t entirely wrong.

In areas of a more extroverted nature, you’ve noticed that Ford lacks his brother’s (sterling) silver tongue, for the most part.

Not necessarily because he can’t don it himself but more because, although you think it would pain him to admit his shortcomings, he seems to struggle with such things.

Ford is stiff around people he isn’t accustomed to and the best of his communication skills generally extend to a very specific set of circumstances. He isn’t completely incapable of interacting with other people outside of his own bubble. He just…. Isn’t the best at it.

You often overhear him laughing and messing around with the kids or, when they’re not bickering, his brother. Their conversations flow easily and, although Stan has suggested that might not have always been the case, Ford is naturally more relaxed around them. He can let his guard down.

It’s understandable. They’re his family and his safety net. For Ford, interacting with them is much easier than interacting with a stranger and he knows his audience when he talks to them. He knows what to expect and he can comfortably risk being more open with them.

But, in Stan’s words, Ford is still adjusting to returning home, both physically and socially, and he struggles to extend that grace to others.

Your initial meeting with him had been…. Tumultuous, to say the least.

Your second week on the job, you’d wandered into Ford’s study in order to clean it, only to find yourself shoved face-first into the wall barely seconds later, your body forced flat against the panelling and one arm twisted painfully up behind your back while Ford had barked orders to his family about ‘dealing with intruders’ and ‘fetching the crossbow’.

It hadn't been until Stan had come careening down the hallway, shouting his head off at his brother and swiftly negotiated your release, that Ford had seen fit to let you go.

To his credit, Ford had offered several apologies (though only after he had chastised you for entering without knocking) and so far, it's never happened since.

But from that point onwards, getting more than a single word out of Ford had been downright impossible for the first couple of months in your time with the Pines.

Elusive, severe and not particularly interested in being any less of either when it came to you, Ford had avoided you like the plague. Whether out of embarrassment or pride at your less-than-stellar introduction, or something else entirely, he hadn’t made much of an effort to try again and so you’d barely had the opportunity to say a word to him to rectify it.

Where the kids were desperate to interrogate you about your life or your time in town, and where Stan was pleased to have someone new to pick on, Ford had oscillated between staying hidden within the confines of his own private space, blinkered to your existence, and behaving like his own miniature storm, sweeping in and out of the house with the purpose of a man possessed.

And when he had shown his face, on the rare occasion he chose to step foot outside of his study or his lab, he’d been brusque and far too caught up in his tasks to deign you, the newcomer, with any sort of acknowledgement.

Admittedly, you’d been left disappointed.

Ford had caught your attention immediately (how could he not?) and his lack of reciprocity had only served to increase your interest. Yet any tiny moment you’d seized to see if things might change, be it passing one another in the hallway or being roped into joining the kid’s games, had only gone down like a lead balloon.

When the two of you had been left alone, Ford had been even worse: Switching from his severity to being skittish or dismissive each time you’d attempted to strike up polite conversation and even so much as a simple 'hello' had been enough to make him freeze up.

Right up until he’d almost burnt the skin clean off of his hand one dull Tuesday evening, that is.

On silent feet, he’d flown through the kitchen doorway at the exact same time you’d been passing through it yourself, colliding solidly with you and sending the lukewarm mug of coffee in your hands flying, its contents tumbling to the floor.

The mug had been flung halfway across the room, shattering on the stone tiles underfoot, and the only reason you hadn’t joined it on the floor had been thanks to an artful dodge Ford had thrown in at the last second in order to avoid knocking you flat on your ass.

Before you’d had the chance to say anything, he had dashed for the sink, swearing profusely and clutching his right forearm, and after a few moments of watching him flap about, your brain had recovered in its shock and you’d sprung into action to help him.

As it had turned out, Ford had apparently been doing some spring cleaning that evening and while carrying what he presumed to be an empty jar, a small amount of liquid (which you’d later learned to be aged sulphuric acid) had seeped through a crack in its glass and immediately eaten into the thin skin of his palm.

With him lacking in dexterity, you had slapped on the cold tap and forced his hand underneath it immediately, instructing him to stay still until told differently while you’d wracked your brains to remember your high school science safety classes.

“You didn’t spill it anywhere else, did you?” You’d asked, alarmed.

“What am I, an idiot?” Ford had scoffed.

“Says the man moving chemicals without gloves,” had been your curt reply, and Ford had quietened down a little after that.

The burn hadn’t been too bad, thankfully. Nothing more than a pink, dime sized mark had been left by the time you’d let him take his hand out from underneath the stream and even though he’d protested that he’d be perfectly fine with just a band-aid, you’d forced him to sit at the kitchen table and allow you to give him some actual first aid.

Half an hour and a roll of bandages later, and Ford had managed to hold his first proper conversation with you.

Granted, most of it had been on the topics of various sciences and such, but it had been a conversation all the same and you’d been secretly thrilled to have it.

He had even helped you to clean up the mess on the floor, too.

The next time he’d seen you in passing, Ford had offered you a curt nod and a small, wary smile. A miniscule improvement upon being ignored or run away from, and just enough to raise your hopes that he might not entirely hate your existence.

And, like the erosion of his own epidermis, a new part of Ford had been exposed to you over time.

Ford had (very, very slowly) come around to the idea of having you in the house, and with each passing day, he’d warmed up to you some more.

Passing nods turned into stiff little 'hellos' in response to your own greetings, and those 'hellos' into 'how are you’s', and before your eyes, the impenetrable ice around him had melted away to expose someone much more human and something far less enigmatic than the front he’d put forward to begin with.

The revelation of his genuine personality had only served to change your natural curiosity over him into something closer to a childish crush and from that point on, you’d been toast. Hopelessly smitten toast.

And although he still struggles depending on his mood, the six months in particular have seen real growth: Ford has been more amenable to chatting with you about his work and even though he keeps you at arms length from the depths of his scientific endeavours, even though he’s still hard to get a read on some days, he’s far less aloof for the most part and every now and then he’ll take a cheeky shot at you when you least expect it.

It always knocks you off balance.

When you’ve recovered from your shock and your brain catches up to your mouth, you find a lame comeback to throw his way:

“I’m not a mouse, you know,” you tell him, primly.

“Of course not,” replies Ford, rather fondly. “Mice are rarely such good company.”

You meet his eyes in surprise and for a second, you share a look with him that you’re not quite sure how to decipher. There’s something warm in his gaze. It’s not unwelcome.

The moment is fleeting and almost instantly, Ford looks away and clears his throat. His strides extend until he’s practically power-walking ahead of you along the forest’s path, his back to you and his voice hardened again as he slips back into the familiar, commanding personality you’re much more accustomed to.

“Dipper tells me you’ve never been into the forests properly before, correct?” He asks, hands clasped behind his back as he walks briskly.

You trot along to catch up with him a little, shaking off the odd feeling. “Correct.”

Ford nods. “Then allow me to give you a run down of how things work out here,” he says, and abruptly, you realise you’re about to witness one of the first special circumstances in which Ford’s communication skills make a rare appearance:

When he takes charge.

Ford snatches control of the reins during any situation that (in his opinion) requires a clear leader and it’s as intimidating a trait as it is admirable.

According to Stan, he’s gotten better at being slightly less militant around the kids, but old habits die hard and you’ve seen him turn on this persona plenty of times before.

Part of you often wonders if it’s a symptom of his time in the portal. If he’d been all alone, thrust head first into (what you can only imagine to be) exceptionally dangerous situations, he’s probably learnt to lean on it for survival.

The other part of you knows full well that Ford is a smart guy anyway. Of course he takes charge when he’s the authority on the subject.

Sometimes, however, you have a suspicion it might be reactive: You’ve noticed that he has a tendency to smother his awkwardness with that bossiness at times. He tries to hide it and make the change seem casual, but it’s obvious when you look a little closer that he’s attempting to claw back his footing and come out on top again. A defence mechanism of sorts.

Telling others what to do comes naturally to him and he can often rely on it a little too heavily sometimes. It can make him come off as a bit of an asshole (see: very much like an asshole) and it’s taken some time to get used to, but you do your best not to take it too personally.

Unless he’s being particularly obnoxious, it’s easier to let him get on with it than it is to fight him. You’ve tried before and it hasn’t gone well.

“Rule number one,” says Ford, holding back a low hanging branch to allow you room to duck underneath it. “Stay close to me and don’t wander off. There are things out here that are much worse than your average predator and they’re not fond of disturbances, trust me.”

Ford’s tone holds gravity; undoubtedly he’s speaking from a place of practised experience with that exact scenario.

“Rule number two: You do what I say, without question. Don’t hesitate. If I tell you to run, you move like there’s fire at your heels. If I tell you to stay still, you turn to stone. Understood?”

“Understood,” you assure him.

Though you should be annoyed by how overbearing he is, you find yourself quite taken by seeing him out in the field like this.

It’s a new environment in every way for you and for all that you’ve heard about his adventuring and disciplined nature from Dipper, it’s quite something to behold.

“And rule number three,” he says, shooting you a coy grin over his shoulder. “Is to have fun. This is your fledgling expedition after all and the first time is always the most exhilarating. Don’t forget to enjoy yourself.”

His smile is contagious.

Ford's initial assurance that the trip to the mushroom patch would take you both little more than an hour dies an early death.

He's comfortably confident, as he so often is, that the weather will hold out long enough to allow you both some time to sightsee on the way and despite your anxiety about getting lost or dry drowning before you can even reach the place, you find yourself unable to talk him out of it.

Not because if you put your foot down he'd ignore your wishes, but because it is just so damn hard not to be charmed by Ford's demeanour when he gets all excited about adventuring.

He’s clearly delighted to have an opportunity to put on a display for someone other than Dipper, no matter how much he refutes his brother’s claims of doing so, and you’re more than willing to give him the floor to do it.

Wariness aside, it’s not like you’re not curious about all of the things lurking in these woods. The concept of cryptids and monsters being real is as thrilling as it is terrifying and you’d be lying if you said you haven’t at least hoped Ford might take you out with him one day.

Stanley had informed you that his brother was a scientist with particularly unique specialisms right at the start of your employment, that his areas of interest weren’t exactly what most would consider ‘normal’, and you’d been intrigued by it immediately.

You know that Ford has an extensive lab beneath the lodge and although you’re rarely granted access, he’s allowed you to deliver him coffee once or twice since he’s become a little more comfortable with your presence.

The place is huge, but Ford is a private person and even when you’ve expressed interest in touring it to see his work in more detail, he’s always assured you of its dangers and kept you (quite disappointingly) at arm’s length from the practical aspect of it all.

Which makes today a dream come true.

As he strides through the chilly, grey forest with you in tow, Ford sheds some of his sharper, more authoritarian attitude as soon as he starts to pick out things he thinks you might find interesting.

One of the other ways in which Ford can communicate well, and by far your favourite, is when he's excited. Usually it's about science; perhaps something special shows up in his test results or maybe he discovers a new species of creature, but whatever it is, it's enough to blow the lid off of his usually stoic self and expose the big, curious kid that he carries close to his heart.

He can’t resist the urge to go into detail about his finds and to flex his disgustingly impressive intelligence on those around him.

Stan insists it’s simply because his brother is a geek who likes to show that off to anyone who will listen, and while that isn’t entirely untrue, Ford is absolutely a clever clogs with tendency to be pompous about it, it’s still exceptionally endearing to watch him get so eager about things.

Ford will get a familiar glint in his eye, shove his glasses up his strong nose, and then launch into a spiel about some of the most complex topics you've never even heard of, talking a mile a minute and waving his hands around all of the place as he explains all of it to anyone who will listen.

You're no mathematician, nor a high IQ scientist, and everything he talks about is well above your intelligence level, but when Ford gets like that you just can't look away from him.

Having been prohibited from his lab (and sometimes even his study, for reasons he never clarifies), you’re always ecstatic to hear about what he’s found or whatever he’s spent his week working on, and being privy to his joy offers a rush that not even the most potent of drugs could beat.

The first forty minutes of your walk together is mostly made up of you watching Ford dart on and off the path, scraping things from trees and narrating his work.

The sun’s rays are dull and watery, reduced to a shitty grey by the time it sneaks its way down through the clouds and canopy over your heads, but even its miserable tint can’t take away the shine that Ford gives off.

As you progress through the woods, Ford fills you in on every piece of flora that the two of you pass, pointing out their colours and attributes, and informing you which flowers make nice bouquets and which ones will kill every member of your household when they bloom.

He explains the discrepancies between moss and lichen on the trees, and goes into detail about his favourite types of each one. It’s so sweet that it makes your teeth ache and admittedly you’re not paying much attention to whatever it is that he’s showcasing for you, despite your polite displays of pretending to.

You’re too busy watching him, taking in the way his eyes light up and his silvery hair glitters each time a glimpse of sunlight makes it down to the forest floor. The way his lopsided grin makes his crow’s feet crinkle more on one side and his dimples pronounce amongst his slight stubble.

He’s truly a sight to behold.

Being as unfit as you are, however, it’s challenging enough to keep up with him physically, let alone mentally. Every time he pauses to point at something, you just about reach his side before he darts off again, always moving a step ahead to ensure he maximises his time in the outdoors.

Rule number one might be stay close, but he’s not too fussed about making that easy for you.

Every now and then, though, Ford slows down just enough to return to you, reappearing with something clasped between his big hands like an overenthusiastically happy dog bringing you a stick in its mouth. The first couple of times had been to show you some different types of plant life or tree bark, but this time is different.

This time, he waits for you to catch up to his side before he nods to a large, plum coloured bush that rises up above your head a little way. Its leaves are long and slender, and they almost look like hearts.

Their faces are marred with silvery, chevron-shaped markings that curve over and reach down to the tips of each one, and the leaves are so dense that you can't see inside no matter how to crane your neck.

You look up at Ford, who is practically puffed out with how much he's enjoying himself, and he puts a finger to his lips before leaning down closer to you.

“This is a form of persicaria microcephala, sometimes referred to as Red Dragon.” Ford says, voice hushed. “They’re not native to this country, you’ll find them primarily in China or Britain, but we’ve got a few bushels dotted about around here.”

Unsure as to why he feels the need to whisper the fact to you, you simply nod.

“But,” Ford continues, clearly picking up on your silent confusion. “Ours is more literal than the stuff you’ll find abroad or in cheap garden centres….”

Careful not to be too rough, Ford slowly pries open an area of the bush with a practised touch and nods for you to peer inside.

You're a little wary at first; you're not in the habit of sticking your nose into wild things in a town like this, yet you know Ford isn't going to set you up to land in harm's way on purpose. You trust him enough to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Cautiously, you lean up to peer into the small clearing he's made and feel your mouth drop open.

On the thin stems inside the plant, there are at least a dozen little creatures nesting. They're all about as long as your pinky finger and initially, you assume them to be lizards.

Each one is a varying shade of purpley-red, some darker, some closer to a pinkish hue, and they're so well camouflaged against their setting that it’s a bit difficult to make them out at first.

That is, until one of them stands up from its perch and stretches, cat-like, with a yawn. It unfurls gossamer wings that flutter like a bee’s and hops from one branch to another, aided by them, before settling back down again.

They’re dragons. Teeny little honest-to-god fucking dragons.

You look back at Ford, aware that your expression suggests that your eyes appear are about to fall out of your head, and whisper as loudly as you dare: “Are you serious?”

Ford, who looks exceptionally pleased with himself, nods again. “We call them Dragon Flies, for obvious reasons. Dipper coined the name. Lovely, aren’t they?”

They really are. Dragons are up there at the top of your list of Really Fucking Cool Stuff as far as you’re concerned, and for all the weirdness in Gravity Falls, you can’t say you thought such creatures to be among it. The notion seems too fantastical. Yet, here they are, tiny and utterly adorable in all their glory.

It’s enough to take your breath away.

“I love dragons,” you whisper, grinning through the leaves at them. “They’re my favourites.”

“I know,” says Ford, and in your surprise, you whip your head back around to meet his eye.

He seems a little taken aback by his own words too, like he hadn’t meant to say them out loud, and a redness blooms on the tops of his cheekbones.

“That is,” he clears his throat softly. “I overheard you talking to the children earlier this week about them and I remembered on the way that we’d pass by here, so I just…. Thought you might like to see.”

You can only barely remember the conversation yourself. Dipper had been sitting at the dinner table, sketching furiously in his notebook whilst Mabel had given random, rapid fire requests to help him practise his speed for field work illustrations, and Dipper had offered you an opportunity to try one when you’d passed through to fetch some water.

Obviously, your answer had been 'dragon' and Dipper had scratched out a shockingly good diagram of one in under thirty seconds. It had been incredibly impressive and he had even given you the sketch. It’s still folded up in your bag at home.

You don’t recall seeing Ford during it, though….. Damn his alley-cat footing.

Still, that means he remembers your off-hand comment from so long ago despite not even being part of the conversation, and it makes your chest burn with appreciation that he’d put two and two together like this, just to show you something you might find fun.

You laugh softly under your breath, restraining the happiness that surges through you so that you don’t frighten the Dragon Flies, and Ford’s nervous expression melts into a lopsided smile of his own once he realises you’re happy with his offering.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, with as much meaning as you can heap into two words.

Ford shrugs one shoulder, his attempted nonchalance overwritten by delight. “You’re welcome,” he says softly. “They’re quite friendly, too. I was a little concerned they might be a risk for forest fires in the summer months but they don’t appear to actually breathe fire. The most I’ve seen them do is burp a few sparks and even then that’s rare. Fairly even-tempered creatures, it seems.”

One of the Dragon Flies turns to glance at you over its shoulder, giving you a disinterested, lazy look as though to illustrate Ford’s point, and your smile grows even more.

After a few more moments of silent, avid observation, Ford carefully lowers the leaves again. “I’m afraid we’ll have to keep moving if we want to avoid the rain today,” he says, sounding genuinely apologetic. “But I’d be happy to bring you back another time. I can even help you handle one, if you’d like.”

As much as you’d love to stay, you know he’s right. You’re already behind schedule. Plus, a second opportunity to hang out means more time to spend alone with him and if today is anything to go by so far, you’ll be thrilled to do it all again.

“That would be incredible, Doctor Pines, thank you.” You smile, stepping away to follow his lead. “If you wouldn’t mind then I’d love to.”

Ford chuckles as he starts off again down the path with you in tow. “My dear, it would be my pleasure.”

Quite suddenly, the forest doesn’t feel as chilly as it has done for most of your walk. Ford’s words warm you up from toe to tip and you’re very grateful that he’s too busy marching along to look at you. If he turned to face you, he would undoubtedly catch the big, stupid grin that’s eating up half your face.

My dear.

My dear.

You’ve heard him call Mabel the same thing plenty of times before. Ford isn’t one for terms of endearment except when it comes to the kids and although you’ve heard him refer to her with several, he’s only ever referred to you by your name.

Up until now, that is.

He’s probably just being nice and playing along with the excitement, yet it rolls off his tongue so casually that it makes your stomach flip-flop.

If accompanying him on a miniature quest is going to result in things like this then you wonder if maybe the next time you cook, you ought to leave your ingredients out overnight for Waddles to pick at as he sees fit…..

The rest of the walk to the patch is amicably quiet, bar Ford's occasional quips about some more interesting things he spots. You’re both content to simply absorb one another’s presence as you move through the forest floor together.

It isn’t long after you leave the Dragon Flies that the wind begins to pick up.

It forces its way through the canopy of fir trees overhead and makes their branches ripple and thrash as it chases through them, tearing out fresh leaves and strewing them across the damp mud under your feet.

The grey clouds above aren't as easily pushed aside, though. If anything, they knit together as if to defend the sky from the gales and their density, combined with the thick trees, only makes it even darker.

Visibility in the forest becomes less and less, and by the time you make it to the patch, Ford swings the heavy pack off of his shoulder and fishes two camping flashlights out from within. He flicks both of them on and hands one to you.

“Just to be safe,” he says. “I don’t want you to trip.”

You thank him and swing the beam around to illuminate the tiny clusters of mushrooms sticking up through the dirt. The clearing they sit in isn't much more than ten feet by ten, the edges lined with bushes and a few gnarly old trees whose roots leech out through the grass in search of sustenance. It’s a quaint little break from the dense trees.

Under any other circumstances, it would look pretty. The place is picturesque and you can imagine sitting down here to eat a picnic and enjoy the view, but right now all you want to do is dig up your dinner and get home to safety.

The weather is ticking quickly over from ominous to outright worrying.

“Let's start there,” Ford says, voice slightly raised so that you can hear him over a sudden, particularly strong gust of wind.

He flicks his torch beam across yours and settles the light on where you're already looking.

“The last batch I picked were from this area so it'll be safest to start here,” he says, coming to your side and dropping into a squat to inspect the scattering of fungi that dot the ground.

Ford lays his torch by his left foot before dumping the backpack beside it. He rifles through the bag until he pulls out a small plastic tub, popping off the lid and putting it beside his other foot.

Keeping your torch as steady as you can so that you can both see what you’re doing, you kneel in the grass beside him and watch as he gently digs his fingers into the cool, damp soil, and breaks off a single mushroom.

The stem is thick and long, and it curves upward until it blooms outward like a tiny, flowery trumpet. The lip of the cap curls underneath just slightly and it has a rich, jewel-pink hue that fades halfway down the trunk to an off-white.

When Ford turns it over in the beam of your light, it glitters slightly, as though it has some form of iridescent quality.

“It’s almost too pretty to eat,” you say, admiring it with quiet awe. “I feel bad for just disturbing it, let alone putting it in a pie.”

Ford chuckles, dropping it into the container. “Don’t worry, plenty more where this one came from. Ready to get your hands dirty?”

“Always, Doctor Pines.” You grin.

Ford matches your expression and you find a suitable angle with your light before you begin to help him unearth more of the things. They don’t appear to go very deep into the ground and the earth is moist enough that it barely takes much effort to get ahold of their stems.

The two of you work in silence. You're sure Ford would be happy to chat but the wind is making such a racket as it passes through the trees that it would be hard to have a conversation at a normal level, and it feels rude to shout at one another in a place as peaceful as this.

The whole place is silent whenever the gusts die down, almost unnervingly so, and you're sure you'll only disturb whatever wildlife is hanging around if you invite Ford into another lecturing session.

You're almost done excavating the mushrooms when you feel the first fat, freezing droplet of rain hit the base of your exposed neck. You've been expecting the rain, of course, but the coldness takes you by surprise and instinctively, you snap a hand up to where it lands, sitting back on your knees and breaking your focus on the dirt to look at your surroundings again.

It's then that your gaze lands on a shadowy figure, standing just at the edge of the clearing and off to the side of a tree.

The appearance is so unexpected that it instantly makes you jump.

For a terrifying few seconds, you forget Ford's presence at your side and your heart feels like it's about to burst through your chest. What if it’s a monster? What if it’s one of the horrible beasts the kids always talk about and now it’s going to tear you to pieces and eat you alive and-

Instinctively, you snap your torch beam up and shine it across the clearing to illuminate the newcomer.

The light lands on the form of a big, broad, red stag.

He's got to be at least four feet tall at the shoulder and the impressive set of antlers on his head must boost that height to nearly six. His body is covered in thick, mahogany coloured fur that's matted at the ends and slowly darkening under the drops of fresh rain.

Definitely not a monster.

You let out a sigh of relief.

Strangely, he doesn't flee when your light hits his face. He stands stock still and blinks back at you with black eyes, nostrils flaring as he puffs out a cloud of foggy breath.

Ford huffs at the loss of light and looks toward you. “I can't see anythi-!”

You shush him, pointing forwards to the deer, and although he seems annoyed at being told to be quiet, he looks at where you direct his attention.

The deer doesn't move.

Ford laughs under his breath. “Cervus elaphus, “ he says quietly. “Just a red deer. Now, if you wouldn't mind putting the light back so I can-”

“It's just staring at us…..” You say, interrupting him again.

The stag still hasn't broken eye contact with you and a feeling of unease settles in your stomach.

Deer are easily frightened, even a flash of bright light would normally be enough to send one running. It's not even close to rutting season, when you might expect to encounter one in a bad mood, and yet this one doesn't even turn its head away.

“Yes, well,” says Ford. “They do tend to do that.”

You know he wants to go back to nabbing the last of the mushrooms. There's an edge in his voice that only ever comes on when he gets a little pissed off about something. You've heard it enough times to recognise it, and yet….. You don't want to do what he's asking. Not yet, anyway.

The stag blinks and huffs another hot breath. Its shoulder shudders reflexively, likely out of irritation from the rain drops that are starting to fall readily now, and he stomps his hoof into the dirt with a wet thump!

You flick the torch further along him to check out his entire body and as expected, he really is just a regular deer, if a very beautiful one. It's not often that you get to see something so majestic up close and having moved here from the city, it's a pleasure to witness. Just like with the Dragon Flies, nature has a way of taking your breath away whether out of admirable wonder or sudden panic.

“He's beautiful,” you mutter.

Even after so long in this town, it’s still a pleasure to see a sight like this. There are no deer in the cities and moving out here has brought with it not just a plethora of new, supernatural creatures, but also an opportunity to reconnect with the old, natural ones, too.

The stag lowers his head until he nearly looks like he's bowing and then flicks it away. Raindrops fly off each point of his antlers as he does it once and then again, each time punctuated by a stomp of his foot.

Is he….. Shooing you off?

It snorts again, moving as if to step closer, and Ford sighs.

“Not the brightest of creatures and hardly the most interesting thing in a place like this. They're ten a penny out here,” he says, clambering to his feet with a groan. Under his breath, you catch him mutter: “Unlike, say, the literal dragons I showed you.”

He sounds a little peeved that you’re admiring such a simple creature in comparison to his own unique reveal and you have to bite down on a smile to hide your amusement.

He seems borderline jealous that your interest has wandered to something so…. Normal.

“Off you go now!” He claps his hands once, hoping to dissuade it from moving further into the clearing but the stag motions again with its head, ignoring Ford's rejection.

Ford frowns. He seems confused by its refusal and again he attempts to encourage it to move on, this time by stepping closer, but the stag remains resolute.

It holds its head up high and refuses to budge, its eyes never drifting from Ford.

Something feels off. Like he’s trying to communicate with you both, playing charades with horns instead of hands.

“I… Think he wants us to leave,” you say quietly.

His presence has gone from being peacefully pretty to setting your teeth on edge.

Gathering up the plastic tub full of mushrooms and keeping your movements slow and cautious so as not to spook the stag into panicking, you pack away your things.

You've collected more than enough fungi for both cooking and experimentation now, and the rain is falling steadily now. You'll both be soaked before long and you're about ready to get out of here anyway. The stag is just an easy excuse.

Ford glances down at you, brow raised. “I didn't know you spoke deer.”

Quite chivalrously, he offers you a hand to help you to your feet and you take it. His touch is warm, if a little gritty with dirt, and his palms are rough from the callouses that come with his hard-labour lifestyle.

You try not to notice how nice his hand feels in yours.

“You've no idea how far my talents extend, Doctor Pines,” you say dryly, ignoring the way your knees scream with effort after spending so long glued to the cold ground. “I’ll have you know that I'm fluent in Cervus quidvis.”

“Quodvis,” Ford corrects automatically.

“I’m fluent in know-it-all, too,” you add, rolling your eyes. “Now get the rucksack and let’s do what he says before we get any more drenched.”

Ford looks down at you, caught somewhere between being affronted and laughing at your quip. “I’d have thought twice about bringing you along if I knew you were going to be this bossy,” He smirks, half-serious.

“Takes one to know one,” you retort, struggling to stifle a smile of your own.

You give the stag a small wave (which does make Ford laugh) and lower your light so that you can tuck the tub into a side pocket of the rucksack.

“Sorry for bothering you, buddy,” you tell the stag, who doesn’t even blink.

You can feel Ford’s eyes on you and although you know he probably thinks you’re mad for trying to converse with the thing, you feel compelled to let it know that you mean it no harm.

Maybe it’s paranoia or maybe you really are going insane, but it feels important to do. The uneasy feeling still hasn’t passed and if talking to the local wildlife makes you feel better then you’re not afraid to be judged for it.

It seems to be appeased by your reaction, whether it's the apology that does it or the fact that you're clearly moving on, and the stag gives one last snort before it launches off into the bushes again.

The sound of its galloping hoofbeats is swallowed by more wind and you wince against the chill it brings with it. Alone it’s bad enough but being even the slightest bit damp only enhances the feeling.

You suppress a shiver.

Before you leave, once he has the backpack over his shoulder again, Ford reaches into his back pocket and procures a little bag of what look to be shiny stones. They glint, even in the dark, and he empties them out onto the dirt where the mushrooms had been.

“Thank you!” He says aloud to nobody in particular, and then he pockets the bag again.

It’s your turn to look at him like he’s lost his mind and Ford catches the expression.

“For the fairies. They like shiny things,” he explains, like it’s obvious. It probably is to him. “If you take something from the forest, you always give something back. Otherwise the next time you come back they’ll make your life a nightmare, trust me.”

“You’re talking to fairies but I’m weird for talking to the deer?” You scoff, following after him as he starts back towards the way you came in.

“I never said you were weird,” Ford says, checking what looks to be his wristwatch before he guides you back towards the correct path out of the clearing. “I said I didn’t know that you could speak to them.”

‘Didn’t know’? That implies it is, in fact, a possibility to communicate with deer, doesn’t it?

“Wait…. Are you being serious?” You ask, curiosity piqued. “Is that possible?”

If the existence of all the creepy, beyond-natural things Ford has warned you about are real, and you know that they are, then is it really that much of a stretch to consider there might be some weird, hidden language the common deer speaks? Or perhaps some kind of thing that might allow you to do that?

If that is the case then you absolutely must know how to do it. It might not come in useful in everyday life but it would certainly be novel. Deer are privy to all sorts of secret goings on in the forest and you’re sure they’d be a great source of gossip.

Ford shrugs one shoulder as he walks beside you, smirking enigmatically.

Excitement surges through your gut.

“No way, are you serious?” you say earnestly, trotting alongside him. “Will you teach me? You have to teach me. Imagine all the stuff I could ask….”

Ford raises a brow. “Such as….?”

“God, I don't know….. I mean for one thing, what's it like being a deer? What kind of stuff have you seen? What's the-” You cut yourself off abruptly when you catch the look on Ford's face that he's been trying to hide in the collar of his trenchcoat.

He's very blatantly fighting laughter.

You deflate instantly.

“Oh, you asshole,” you huff, swatting at his arm. “There's no such thing, is there?”

Ford breaks finally, laughing the same deep, gravelly laugh that you've grown so fond of over the past year.

“I'm sorry,” he says, breathless with mirth. “Forgive me, you just seemed so invested, I couldn’t help myself.”

You can’t stop yourself from laughing along. You want to be more annoyed at his teasing, but if you’re honest it’s really quite nice to be teased by him. He’s clearly in a playful mood today and you’re elated that you get to be the main recipient of his prodding. You suppose it's fair game for him to give as good as he gets.

“I am serious about the fairies, though,” Ford adds after a moment. “They've quite the set of teeth on them.”

Teeth?

“Noted.”

Please also consider supporting the chapter on ao3 here!

[stellaelillac]

It’s the way that Ochako always wants to help everyone and she cares and loves her friends so much.

[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 💖❤️

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋjealousy, jealousyღ

pairing: boyfriend!megumi x reader

summary: after overhearing a conversation, you get seriously annoyed with megumi. he makes it up to you in his own way.

tags: fem!reader, assumptions, kissing, pet names, one phrase from jjk270, cursing, she/her pronoun use, no proofread

wc: 1k

after a hard day, you decided to get some milkshakes for you and your boyfriend. you'd looked all around for him, finally hearing his voice down a hallway. you saw him and called out to him.

“megum–”

“when shall we have the ceremony?” hana mused, clapping her hands. a moment of silence passed in the hallway, both you and megumi shared the same expression of disbelief. he turned and noticed your presence, reaching a hand out.

“[na–]”

you walked off before he could finish, leaving him with an embarrassed hana who had realized she'd jumped the gun.

but before she had the chance to apologize, he went after you. you were leaving, quickly. going to find your car and ditch this place, arms crossed and annoyed.

was it probably nothing? yes, but why would she even say that?? it pissed you off to no avail.

you sipped on your milkshake in annoyance, throwing it out in the nearest trash can to you. the taste was ruined and now sour like your mood.

the sound of megumi's' footsteps behind you made you rush to get the keys out of your purse quicker, unlocking the door with antsy hands. you slip in, only to realize you got in the passenger seat out of habit.

you cursed in silence as he slid into the driver’s seat besides you, rolling your eyes at the hand on your thigh. “whatever you heard, it's not what you think.”

“mhm.” you stared out the window, letting him take the keys out of your hands to start the ignition and the a.c, your car just got so hot. “baby, it wasn't like that.”

“sure it wasn't.”

he groaned in frustration, still holding your thigh as you felt his green eyes on you. “look at me.”

“why? need advice for your ceremony? i'd be great flower girl.” he palmed his face, annoyance evident in his features. “it wasn't like that and you know it.” you turned on the radio, not wanting to hear his excuses. but that honestly just pissed you off more. changing through the channels, it seemed everything just sought to make you mad.

“(jealous), just leave me alone, (jealous), just leav–”

“toss your dirty shoes in my–”

“yo no soy celoso, ¿pero quie–”

“i need to get her out the picture, she's really fuckin–”

you turned it off, the sound of the fan the only thing you heard. your eyes were closed but you could feel him looking at you. his hands moved to grab yours. he spoke gently. “are we gonna talk now?”

“maybe.”

“she got the wrong idea babe, i don't– i don't even think of a future without you, let alone talk about it with someone else when it doesn't involve us.”

“but why didn't you say anything?” you opened your eyes now, facing him as you pouted. “you shouldn't have even entertained the idea.”

he tried to stay serious, but he couldn't help the smile that spread out across his face. you just looked so cute while you were trying to be angry, like a mad bunny stomping it’s feet. “i didn't, i walked after you right after. i didn't even look at her, just at you. always you.” the smile of his face had to be hidden under his other hand, you were so annoyingly pretty.

“really?” your eyes were glossy as you looked over to him.

“really.” your faces inched closer, megumi leaning in first. your lips meet in a sweet kiss, the tension and jealousy fading as you melt into him. his arms wrapped around you, caging you into him.

your hands found themselves around his neck, deepening your kiss. the both of you could almost taste your desire for each other. well, he could taste the flavor of your milkshake, but that was besides the point. as his hand moved up to cup your face, tapping your jaw to wordlessly ask for permission, you tilted your head and let him in.

as if memorizing the cavern of your mouth, he explored it. you tasted so sweet, you felt so sweet against his hands too.

he finally pulled away. “mine.” he whispered in between kisses, “m’ all yours.” chaste kisses were peppered on your face, making you laugh and hit his chest.

you both were breathless at the end of it, faces dusted with pink. his pupils had hearts in them, holding your hand tightly with a soft smile over his face. “it really was nothing, i promise.”

“i know.. sorry.”

“id be mad too if someone said that to you, don't worry too much.” he kissed your forehead, before having a moment of realization.

the car felt hot, yes it was because you just had a romantic moment together, but it was also because you didn't have tinted windows. meaning,

“babe.”

“what?”

“i think.. everyone just saw us right now.”

your eyes widened. “you're.. holy shit you're right! drive megumi drive!”

you rushed him and simultaneously you covered your face. sorcerers, people, and in particular yuuji, nobara, hana, and gojo were jaw dropped outside the car. gojo had a hand over his heart.

“well, at least nobody will hit on either of us, right?

…i'll be quiet.”

“that's for the best.”

[solaireverie]

op81 | best he'll ever write

summary: [ author!oscar piastri x f!driver!reader — social media au ] being the partner and muse of a celebrated author means that fans start connecting the dots sooner rather than later

faceclaim: gracie abrams

author’s note: i'm secretly a ya romcom book girlie and i feel like that shows SO MUCH in this fic 🙈 delusional for life!

[ masterlist / guidelines / lola's masterlist / series masterlist ]

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, liakblock and 534,230 others

geotag: melbourne, australia

yourusername short break down under 🐨

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user great race at the australian gp y/n!

↪ user first points of the season let's goooo

↪ yourusername and hopefully many more to come 🙌

logansargeant STRAYAAA 🦘🇦🇺🦘🇦🇺

↪ yourusername VEGEMITE ON TOAST 🤤

↪ user sometimes i forget that logan and y/n are both gen z 😂

user the puppy is so adorable 🥺

↪ user i wonder whose it is 👀 y/n's said that her schedule doesn't allow for pets

oscarpiastri not my birthday cake...

↪ yourusername sorry not sorry 😉

↪ user who the hell is oscar piastri and why is y/n replying to his comment 😭

↪ user don't you talk about my favourite best-selling author like that 🤺

oscarpiastri has added to their story

seen by yourusername, logansargeant, jennyhan and 124,203 others

you replied to oscarpiastri's story

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 3,393,210 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername can't believe that little kid is now a 3-time nyt best-selling author 🥹 so proud of you oscarpiastri 💗 i haven't been able to put eighty-one seconds down 📖 available in bookstores near you!

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user i love how y/n always supports and promotes oscar's books 🥺

↪ user they're so adorable together my heart can't take it

oscarpiastri Thanks for the encouragement. Couldn't have done it without you 👍

↪ yourusername damn right you couldn't have 😤

user okay but who took the photo of y/n 👀

↪ user i'm betting it was oscar 😜

↪ user hello what 😳😳😳

↪ user oh my sweet summer child...

liked by yourusername, hachetteaus, johngreenwritesbooks and 293,192 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri Thank you to everyone who's been on this journey with me. Eighty-One Seconds is finally yours and we can't be more happy to share it with you. As many of you have guessed, it is my homage to Y/N and all the time we have spent together. My wife, my love, my heart. I'm grateful that you're in my life. Forgive me for re-using my words, but here's to eighty-one more years together.

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user hold on a damn second 🤚 his WIFE??? when was this a thing 🧐

↪ yourusername 🤭

↪ user give us answers please 🙏 i haven't had peace since oscar posted this

yourusername i love you too, oscar jack piastri 🤍

↪ user oh he literally named his mc after himself 😭

↪ user GOODBYE??? JACK AS IN HIS MIDDLE NAME??? oh my god they really weren't subtle

williamsracing signed copy when 😏

↪ hachetteaus already on its way 🫡

user honestly i'm surprised they managed to hide their relationship for this long 💀

↪ user oh they did NOT we were just blind

↪ logansargeant I didn't find out until I got the wedding invitation in the mail 🤝

↪ landonorris i think that's just cause you're oblivious mate 😂

↪ logansargeant what???

↪ landonorris they literally make out all the time in williams hospitality

↪ yourusername lando... 😒

user if your man isn't writing a book professing his love for you, what's he doing with his life?

↪ user oscar's set the standard 😌

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii @julesbabey @flannelforthetoads @misartymis @c-losur3

[russellsppttemplates]

It is what it is (Lando Norris)

It takes Lando a while to notice how you always assume he has something else to do whenever you need his help

Note: english is not my first language. It's slightly angsty but has a good ending! ✨️ is this good, is this bad? I'm not too sure

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: alludes to the lack of quality time between a couple

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Look at you, beautiful girl", Lando twirled you as he stepped inside your bedroom, noticing you were getting ready, "are you going somewhere?".

"Yes, I have an appointment at my optometrist", you smiled, "Anna should be here soon to take me".

"Is it a joint appointment?", Lando squinted.

"No, you muppet", you giggled, "my optometrist needs some exams on my eyes, so I have to today because that's when the ophthalmologist is there and they recommended that I had someone take me there because they want to dilate my pupils and, depending on how it goes, my sight might be a little affected for a couple of hours", you offered, making sure you had everything you needed to take.

"You could've told me and I would've taken you", Lando added, accepting the kiss you placed on his lips.

"I thought you had a meeting this afternoon", you reasoned.

"I do, but I could have moved that around a little and fit everything into the schedule", he reasoned back.

"It's okay, don't worry about that", you mused, "That's Anna - bye, handsome!", you kissed his lips one last time before making your way out and downstairs to meet your friend.

The ride to the office wasn't long, you and Anna taking the time to catch up and learn about the new gossips she had to update on you.

"And how's Lando? I haven't seen him in a while", Anna stated after you sat in the empty waiting room waiting to be called.

"He's been busy lately - he has a meeting today with the team, they're also launching a new collection for Quadrant and they're investing a lot in the social media content, so he's been busy recording a lot of videos and stuff", you offered, never shy whenever it came to talk proudly about your boyfriend's achievements, "and we're also on the countdown for the season to begin, so there's training and meetings and all that".

"Sounds like a busy schedule, no wonder why I haven't seen him - I'm surprised you even see him at all", she joked, grabbing her phone once she remembered she had something to show you.

You were surprised yourself at every bit of time you were able to spend with Lando, as lately it had become near impossible to do so apart from sleeping in the same bed, and even that was rare as he was often travelling between Monaco and England on a weekly basis.

"Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?", the doctor called you before you stepped inside the exam room, starting with the procedures.

The check up itself didn't take long despite the twenty five minute wait for the drops to dilate your pupils, "Don't forget your sunglasses, Y/N!", the secretary reminded you before you stepped outside.

"Thank you, have a good afternoon", you smiled before tapping Anna's shoulder, "Give me your arm so I won't trip", you mumbled.

"Is your sight that bad? The doctor said it should be good enough", Anna worried as she was about to open the door.

"No, it's fine, but if I'm clumsy on any good day, imagine how probable it is for me to fall on some stupid step or raised cobblestone", you argued as you both chuckled, making your way to her car.

Before you went home, your friend stopped by the pharmacy to get you the relief eye drops you'd have to follow the medication regimen with for the next few days, stopping by your favourite bakery so you could enjoy some sweet pastries.

"Can you even read these prescriptions?", Anna asked as she read the regimen you had to comply with.

"Stop making fun of me, you say that as if I'm almost blind", you swatted her arm before reading - trying to - the words, "fucking hell, am I?".

"I can barely read them myself, Y/N! They're so tiny I don't know how they give these to eye patients! Is Lando going to be home soon? That way he can help you with this", she suggested.

"Can I even see the time? At least that", you mumbled as you looked at the large numbers on your phone, "he'll probably take a while still - I can set the alarms on my phone and I'll memorise the different drops", you tapped your head.

Once it was all settled and you assured Anna she was fine to go home and you'd be perfectly well on your own, you walked her to the door before going back to the living room as the sun was no longer shinning outside and you could lay down on the sofa.

The nap you were taking was cut short by the door being shut, making you rub your forehead before an alarm rang. Getting up to head to the bathroom where you kept the supplies, you found Lando taking his trainers off.

"Hi baby, how was your appointment?", he asked as he put the footwear away.

"It was good, need to go and apply my drops", you smiled, turning the light on and grabbing the right box of medication.

"Is that what the alarm was for? I thought we had gotten a new security system I was not aware of", Lando joked as he watched you wash your hands.

"Yes, these instructions are so small to read that Anna thought it would be best to have alarms so I wouldn't mess it up since it's still a little bit blurry", you mused.

"Do you want me to do it?", Lando offered.

"No, it's fine - I'll have to do this for the next 48 hours anyway, so I might as well get used to it", you stopped talking so you could apply them, almost holding your breath until the drops fell.

"My lovie", Lando whispered on your ear once he felt it was okay to approach you, hugging your mid section from behind and kissing your neck as you put your hands on top of his.

.

You were adding the finishing touches on the present wrapping, the shiny gold string fiddling between your fingers as you tried to tie a bow with it around the paper bag handle, when Lando stepped inside your home office.

"That's looking pretty", he mused as he handed you the tape you were looking for on your desk.

"Thank you", you offered before placing the sticky piece down, "the bag is quite plain and even though the present inside is what will get her attention, it should come in nice wrapping".

"Who is this for?", Lando asked.

"It's for Maya's birthday tonight", you smiled, admiring your work.

"Is that tonight? Fuck, this week has flown by", Lando cursed, "I can't make it - will you let her know, please? I'm sorry I can't go", Lando pouted, "if she has to pay for having made the reservation with me in it, let me know and I'll pay my part!".

"I had already told her I'd be going alone, so she made my reservation without a plus one", you mused, remembering the conversation that came around the time of booking the venue.

Lando was leaving late in the afternoon for a trip with Max, Ria and some of the Quadrant athletes, so like you predicted, he couldn't attend the dinner with you.

"Oh", Lando offered.

"Max told me about your plans and when Maya told me the date, I assumed you wouldn't be able to go", you explained with a tinge of sadness and conformity in your voice.

"Well, it seems you guessed right", Lando chuckled despite the uneasy feeling on his chest.

You seemed sad that he wouldn't be able to join you, but at the same time you didn't? Lando put the topic at the back of his mind for now, heading to the bedroom so he could pack the last minute things.

"I was thinking of wearing this dress", you said once you joined him inside a while later, taking the steamer out of your drawer and setting it up to get out any kinks and wrinkles.

"That one is one of my favourites on you, but then again, they all are, I think", Lando mused, kissing your cheek as you waited for the steamer to be up for use.

"Figured it would be a little cold out tonight, so I chose this one, and that coat over there", you pointed.

"You'll be the most beautiful in that room", your boyfriend complimented, pecking your lips before he let you continue your task.

A couple hours later, Lando found himself restless as he scrolled through the posts and stories of Maya's birthday dinner, "Ria", he called, "what would you think if your partner made plans without you because they figured you wouldn't be able to go anyway?".

Ria exchanged a look with Max and Tara before she spoke, "did they ask me if I could go?", she offered.

"They didn't, but truth be told it's not like you have given them much to believe that you could join them", Lando mumbled the last part.

"I think I'd be a more 'it is what it is' at the start if I saw that it was something out of their reach, but I'm not sure I'd put up with it if it was genuine disinterest from them", Ria explained.

"It's not disinterest! They're just busy and shit at organising their schedules", Lando groaned defensively.

"Okay, okay", Ria calmed the room down once Max squinted his eyes at his bestfriend, "then I guess they would have to make sure they do better", she shrugged, "is everything alright?".

"Yes, yes, sorry for snapping just then", Lando offered her a tight lipped smile.

Everyone carried on with what they were doing before the existencial question, Max seemingly as stuck on it as Lando, "is this an hypothetical thing or are we calling people by their names and working this out?", he whispered to Lando.

"It's fine, just a loose thought I had there", Lando grumbled.

.

Lina 🤎

Hi, Y/N!

You won't bother, don't worry - I think I miss having someone other than my boyfriend to talk to 😅

Would it be okay if you visited in the afternoon? Our morning routine is still a shitshow (literally and figuratively), so we would appreciate it if you came after her first nap, around two pm?

One of Lando's older couple friends had a baby a couple of weeks ago, and while you were dying to meet their baby boy as soon as he came earthside, you were respectful of their adjustment period so you waited for them to be up for visitors and were ready to comply with whatever schedule they offered.

"It smells nice in here", Lando commented as he stepped inside the kitchen, "what delicious food are you making and can I please have a bite?".

"I made a little tray for us, but the big one is to take for Lina and Theo - I can imagine they don't have much time for cooking, so food is welcomed by them", you smiled, setting the cheese grater down once the measurements were like the recipe stated.

"Are you going to visit today? I have some streaming with Max scheduled for this afternoon", Lando added.

"Lina told me that this afternoon was the only time they could handle some visits - you know how it is with new parents and newborns and all of that -, I didn't want to change their schedule when I have some flexibility with my schedule", you explained, "I'll give the little one a big kiss from you, then?".

"Well, in that case, I should give you two big kisses then - one for you", he kissed your lips once, "and then this one for the little one", he smiled before kissing you again.

You shared lunch in a semi comfortable silence, Lando telling you a bit about the stream they would be doing and you sharing some work updates from your end.

When Lando gets a text in the middle of watching Max send his virtual car to the curb, "who might that be that's brought such a big smile to your face?".

Lando checked the photo to make sure the baby's face was covered despite his friends having already posted him, tuning the phone to show the camera, "Y/N met our friends' baby boy for the first time", Lando gushed.

"That's the little nugget", Max cooed, "she looks very happy with a baby on her arms", he wiggled his eyebrows, "have you met him already?".

"No, I haven't yet! She could only go this afternoon and we had this so...", Lando tsked, admiring the picture one last time before setting the phone back down. The baby was perfectly nestled on your arms, hiding his face on your chest as you looked down at him with a big smile on your face.

Now that he thought about he, he hadn't seen such a big smile in quite some time, and he was really starting to believe he was the reason behind it. He was absent, more than usual and more than the standards of your relationship considering his job.

The air had shifted around you once you came back from meeting Lina's little boy and Lando could only pinpoint it to the subject he thought about earlier.

"Lan, did you hear what I said?", you asked as you showed him another picture of you touching your noise in the little boy's.

"It's just... are we okay, baby?", Lando questioned. Even though it seemed like he was the only one that felt there was something wrong - different at least -, surely you had noticed it too.

"What makes you say that?", you asked.

From the serious tone, your boyfriend mentally slapped himself. Whatever it was, he was on the wrong and you had indeed noticed it too.

"I've noticed you don't ask me for help with stuff like driving you somewhere or accompanying you to places, which is fine if you want to do things on your own, I'm not saying you can't have your own independence, you know I'm not controlling you in that way - obviously! Fuck, I'm rambling! What I mean is, I have been taking notice that you just assume that I'm not available, and your assumptions are not unfounded, and it makes you sad, and I myself am upset that it has reached this point", Lando stated.

"It's not great, I can tell you that, but we knew it would be like this, your schedule is not the regular nine to five - it is what it is, Lan", you argued.

"But it's not, not all the time anyway! I want you to know you can always count on me!", Lando stated, "Y/N, you are one of my priorities and I never want to let you down - I'm going to make sure that from now on I spend more time with you and that I'm by your side a lot more", he rubbed your palm, "damn, I was so stupid, I'm sorry, lovie".

"Lando, these things happen", you attempted, "now we can work on it".

"You can count on me for little and big things in life - you need to go to the post office? I'm there helping you put the letter in the box. Dinner with your friends? I'll find it in the schedule to go and I don't care who I have to tell no to!", he pointed his finger, "I never ever want you to feel like you don't belong in my life or like I don't want to be involved in yours, Y/N - I'm so so so sorry that it took me so long to notice it".

"It's in the past", you smiled, pecking his lips softly, "now, look at this cute little nugget, he's so cute, we have to go there another day so you can meet him, and I think Theo won't mind another traybake".

[zevrra]

LaDS—

synopsis: random hc’s i have for the men of love & deepspace!!

tags: 18(+) only, mdni, pretty nsfw, suggestive content, sylus, rafayel, xavier, zayne, LaDS MC(18+), my personal hc’s!

SYLUS—

has a very strict routine and hates when he has to change something in it

annoys you constantly bc he finds it funny

can and will steal your clothes and hide them so your forced to walk around in his house with next to nothing on

would buy you a collar

seems like this giant asshole but would actually kill for you

the second he hears about some lowlife messing with you it’s almost immediately that you never see them again

possessive !!!!!!!

gets jealous pretty easily as well

has to remind you why you are his and only his

toxic bf

leaves hickies/bite marks all over your neck specifically so other people can see them

is soooo into choking/breath play that goes both ways too!!!

he wants you to use him as you see fit

that is until he takes control and uses you like a new toy and does it all for his own pleasure

degrades you the entire time while he pulls your hair

asks you constantly who you belong to as he fucks ruthlessly into you from behind

“if i can’t have you, no one can.”

RAFAYEL—

either he calls you 26 times a day or will call you the second you wake up and stay on the phone the entire day

drops by unexpectedly at your house

brings you anything he sees that reminds him of you

you have a jar full of everything ranging from pearls, seashells, to aged flowers

secretly tries to befriend a stray cat he had caught you taking care of

even if he dislikes it he’d do anything for you

you are 100% his muse

has several sculptures or giant sets of paintings modeled after you

would showcase a gallery of just the paintings he’s done of you

yaps 24/7 to anyone willing to listen to him talk anout his “amazingly, wonderful, kickass girlfriend”

gets flustered so easily

also gets sooo horny if he sees you wearing his clothes

if you start anything sexual, at first he tries to stop you/hold himself back but if you keep pushing he’ll eventually snap

fucks you so so so good after he stops holding himself back too

fav position is missionary because he loves seeing your face, loves watching you as you take him in so well and deep

“i love you, i love you, stay with me forever, i need you, please.” in your ear the entire time

you both share a bubble bath after you’re done for the night

and once you both are too worn out to move anymore, you fall asleep with him at your back, curled up like a cat

XAVIER—

sleepy bf who takes 36 naps a day!!

you don’t have to worry about him when he’s not answering your texts, you just know he’s sleeping

“sorry fell asleep”

loves giving you his clothes to wear he genuinely enjoys seeing you in his wardrobe so much

hates crowds but goes along with any thing you suggest solely because he gets to hold your hand the entire time

would also willing kill for you just doesn’t make it as obvious as some

loves loves loves kissing

little spoon!!!!

will call you over for a movie date solely so he can sleep on top of you while you watch the movie

coexisting together is all he needs

you only ever see him truly awake during two things, missions & when he’s going down on you

truly is a different person when it comes to day vs night

during the day he’s soft, nods along with everything you say, looks at you lovingly

at night he’s hungry, wants to worship you and make you his

looks at you like he’s starving and you’re his last meal when he eats you out

rarely makes noise when you two make love until he’s close

lock your legs around him and force him to stay inside will 100% make him want to go a second round

his stamina is truly unmatched

he loooooves watching you ride him too

after you two finish, you both have to immediately shower together or else you’ll fall asleep in each other’s arms right after

ZAYNE—

is always busy but never busy enough he doesn’t see you

regularly forces his schedule open solely to spend time with you

not a morning person at all i swear

he’s groggy, hates getting up so early even if he has too

either sleeps the entire night on his back or anything but his back

also very possessive!!!

keeps a hand on your thigh whenever you two are out

buys you anything that you look at for too long

cute shirt in the store window? yours. want to try the new restaurant downtown? puts a reservation in the second you bring it up

doesn’t think himself worthy to have sex with you but after some convincing he’s the most tender, caring lover

but that doesn’t mean he isn’t fast and rough, pounding into you while he tells you how beautiful you look

also secretly think he’s into fucking you in public, especially at his office ugh

“god baby, you’re taking me so well.”

regularly only calls you darling or by your name until things turn intimate and he’s a slew of “baby, babygirl, my princess”

aftercare aftercare aftercare aftercare—

is all about aftercare!!! loves taking a shower with you and treating you like his queen

makes sure you’re all taken care of before he even focuses on himself

doesn’t fall asleep until after you do

[elflutter]

— she's your daddy

kinktober 04 → threesome & daddy kink

wade x logan x f!reader

wordcount: ~500

tags/warnings: explicit (18+ mdni), fluff, humor, established relationship, light daddy kink, she/her pronouns for reader, anal sex (m. recieving), mentions of p i v, dirty talk, pet names, they're all switches but logan is subby in this, dom!reader, dom!wade, sub-space, it's all very soft and cute and sweet

Some bullshit is always spewing from Wade's mouth, whether he's buried in your cunt or balls deep in Logan. You're sprawled on one side of the bed, Logan's hand wrapped tight around one of yours. Your other plays at your clit as Wade pounds into him from behind. A scarred hand wraps around Logan's cock, tip angry and leaking. The words that come out of his mouth really shouldn't surprise you.

"Come on, peanut, wanna come for daddy?"

Your fingers stop swirling your swollen nub as you let Wade's words soak in. The thought of the word daddy falling from Logan's lips shouldn't have your cunt clenching like it does. But, then again, you've always been a bit depraved.

Logan's response comes valiantly as Wade pistons into him, balls slapping lewdly with every meeting of Wade's hips.

"Anyone—" Thrust. "Ever tell ya—" Thrust. "You're shit at dirty talk—" Thrust. "Red?" Logan's teeth are clenched, voice harsh.

"Yeah, Wade," you muse. "Don't be ridiculous."

You pause for a beat; a mischievous grin as you meat Wade's gaze. Your fingers begin to dip between your folds, gathering your slick before moving back to your aching clit. "We both know I'm his daddy."

Logan lets out a rough groan, at that, despite himself. And the confirmation sends lightning bolts shooting down your spine.

The hand holding Logan's squeezes a little tighter, as you coax him on. Your eyes meet his, gaze dripping with desire. Your voice a low whisper.

"Come on, Lo. Come for daddy."

Logan's breaths come in pants, now. "Yeah— fuck, I will," he babbles between breaths. "Gonna come for you, baby."

Wade slows his thrusts then, perfectly in-tune with your little game, though his own daddy-action may have been thwarted.

"Ah-ah, baby girl," the merc sing-songs. "That's not her name."

Logan growls, the sound a feral thing. He turns his head to the man behind him. "Fuck you, mouth."

Then, he turns back to face you. His cheeks are flushed crimson, eyes closed, as he addresses you.

"Gonna come for you— Daddy."

The three of you keep at it for hours that night, you and Wade taking care of Logan until he's floating in that hazy space you know so well. He always seems to be the one bringing you and Wade there. He deserves to feel it too, after all he's done for you. As hungry for control as he can be, Logan has never had somebody take care of him like this. You're just glad you can be the one to do it.

Finally, when it's closer to morning than it is to night, you're all fucked out and boneless, cuddling in a heap on your shared California king. Your hands tangle in Logan's hair, damp with sweat, as Wade traces little patterns on the bare skin of your thigh while he spoons you. Then, because of course he does, Wade breaks the silence. He heaves a dramatic sigh.

"I cant believe she's your daddy." He pouts, petulant. "Will these perverts ever let me have anything?!"

You're not sure what he's talking about, but you're too fucked out to care. You twist around to press a chaste kiss to the mottled skin of Wade's head. "It's okay, princess. You can be my daddy."

a/n: this one is short and sweet, but i thought it was fun! if you enjoyed it, i'd love to hear what you thought! reblogs are always appreciated 🤍

taglist: @squishyfrui @misscrissfemmefatale | and some beloveds (no pressure just thought you might enjoy this hehe) @eupheme @sceletaflores @avocado-writing

request to be added/removed from taglist in the replies

gif credit

dividers by @moosgraphics + @saradika-graphics

[starlostseungmin]

husband!hyunjin

✰ notes: here concludes my husband!skz series with hyunjin. i hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing everyone! not proofread and not edited. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

seungmin , chan , lee know , jeongin , han , changbin , felix（ hyunjin ）

ꔛ

Husband Hyunjin whom everyone expected to make a grand proposal, prepared a simple candlelight dinner in your shared apartment and cooked your favorite meals. You thought it was just a usual dinner date at home which you’d do sometimes. He suddenly got down on one knee and opened a small box with a diamond ring, “Will you be my everlasting muse? The one who would love to spend the rest of their life with me?” 

Husband Hyunjin who cried and hugged you tightly as he thanked you for saying yes. 

Husband Hyunjin who was the happiest and got emotional during the weddingーmentally screaming, hair-ripping, toe-curling, exaggerated excitement (sincere), and deeply in thought about how he would spend an eternity with you. 

Husband Hyunjin who loves to stare at you while talking, especially on your lips thinking how much he wants to kiss you. His kisses start with innocent, soft, and warm then later change into intimate, hot, and intoxicating which makes you get addicted to them. 

Husband Hyunjin who loves to be babied and cuddled when he’s tired or just wants to be a small spoon whenever he feels like it. He’d refuse to go to work just to stay in bed all day with you. 

Husband Hyunjin whose dates consist of visiting art museums, picnics, watching musicals or movies, evening strolls, and road trips. Sometimes it gets over the moon when he decides to take you to (country) because you’ve been dying to visit the place. He giggled nonstop when he surprised you that he bought the tickets. 

Husband Hyunjin who would always bring his sketchbook and camera on dates just to take a picture of you or make his hand busy sketching a portrait of you just because he finds you beautiful every time. He will show them to you when he’s done. The pictures or sketches will be hung on your shared apartment's wall for safekeeping and memories. 

Husband Hyunjin who drives you crazy when he’s just doing normal things like simply unbuttoning his polo, rolling up his sleeves, taking off his jacket showing his bodybuild especially when he wears a tanktop inside, brushing his bangs upward, dancing? It would add fuel to the fire when he kisses you like a man starved from your touch. 

Husband Hyunjin who brings you food and medicine when you get sick. He will probably take his day off from work depending on how fast your recovery is that it would take days for him to sit there and take care of you. The type to make sure that you won’t die since he would end up grieving so hard. “It’s just a mild flu, Hyunjin.” “Are you sure?” 

Husband Hyunjin who is loud and dramatic whenever he realizes he got betrayed, lost a game, or is just being dumb (lovingly). He and Jisung are a perfect match and you’re the one who actually gets in between. 

Husband Hyunjin who gets shy whenever you compliment him but sometimes he would feel a blast of confidence that he gives you a wink as a response and becomes flirty.

Husband Hyunjin who loves to make a fool of himself, vocabulary just consists of memes (you can blame Han and Felix for that) cringes at his own cuteness and regrets it later just to make you laugh. 

Husband Hyunjin who lets you play with his long hair. He loves it when you do pigtails. You often tease him that he looks like Boo from Monsters Inc. 

Husband Hyunjin whom Kkami wants to disown. 

Husband Hyunjin who tries his hardest to comfort you as best as he can whenever he sees you being vulnerable in trying times. Promised not to leave you alone until you feel better, crack a dad joke he got from Chan to lift the atmosphere (which is effective by the way) and take you to his arms, whispering how he is proud of you. 

Husband Hyunjin who made a playlist filled with songs that make him think about you, scream your vibe, and the ones that would portray his exact feelings. Sometimes he would write down lyrics about how lovesick and hopeless romantic he is. All songs and melodies are heavily inspired by you. 

Husband Hyunjin who loves to send you selfies, videos of him taken by the members that serve husband material, and voice messages whenever he’s abroad because he misses you so much that he cries himself to sleep and can’t wait to go home. It’s also necessary to send you short vlogs and pictures of sceneries of the places he went without you because of work and leave messages like, “This reminds me of you.” “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Let’s visit this place together soon!” “I’m sure you’d like these souvenirs I got you!” “The food out here is great! Treat me here soon!” 

Husband Hyunjin whose love languages are words of affirmation, physical touch, gift-giving, quality time, and acts of service. 

Husband Hyunjin who loves to spoil you even if you tell him not to spend a lot of money on you but he won’t listen and insists on accepting them. 

Husband Hyunjin who doesn’t admit his mistakes during the first few minutes of the argument but later apologizes over and over again and promises never to do it again. He’s also the type that is hard to make up with but he can’t keep it up for hours and just cuddles you whispering “I’m sorry, I’ll do better.” 

Husband Hyunjin who gets jealous easily and is possessive whenever he sees you having a good time with his members. “I’m yours, Hyunjin. Don’t worry.” You’d say but you know that is not enough for him so he’d show you to whom you belong (affectionately, or depending on how you both want it).

Husband Hyunjin who refused to get a divorce when you felt that your marriage was falling apart because he couldn’t imagine his life without you. He won’t let go of you easily and you didn’t even make any attempts to leave him. 

Husband Hyunjin who is careful whenever in talks of having kids because your decision matters in this relationship but he would reassure you that if you ever wanted to have one, he will be the best dad your kid could ask for. 

Husband Hyunjin who is the most precious, kind, and pure to your heart that you wouldn’t even want to live a life without him. He is the moon and stars to your night, the sunshine after the rain, the rose amongst the thorns, and the pretty shells you find on a beach where no one knows. 

Husband Hyunjin who holds your hand and intertwines your fingers as he kisses your knuckles saying, “I love you.” 

Husband Hyunjin whose wedding vows are not enough to show how much he would love to spend his entire life with you. “I fucking love you so fucking much and we’re married, you can’t leave. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not!” 

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[wereallydobevibing]

Too Young | John Price x Reader

I used to post my stories on tiktok under the username @codlover but I figured since tiktok might get banned I should delete that account and post it here. Here’s one of the stories.

Feel free to use my work as a prompt/inspiration. Better yet, feel free to write your ideal part 2 just MAKE SURE YOU CREDIT AND TAG ME.

WARNINGS: Age Gap

“Welcome home, Captain.”

As he falls back in his seat, his gaze lifts to meet yours - his little muse behind a marble counter, his favorite bartender at his favorite bar. 

“That’s John to you, sweetheart,” He says, and he watches with satisfaction as you wordlessly pour out his usual drink without even having to ask what he was having.

You were a young girl, early twenties, working towards your bachelors at the nearest university, but before that, you’d gone to trade school. You were a hard worker; doing hair in the morning, attending classes in the noon, closing the bar at night, studying any minute that was free. 

I’ll breathe when I have everything I want, you told him one night, when he noticed how your shoulders seemed to be heavy with the weight of your profusion of responsibilities. He wished he could help you carry some of them, or at least blow some air into those lungs that seemed to collapse whenever finals came around. 

John admired you – sweet, smart, and focused. He would’ve liked to have you on his Taskforce if that’d been that path that you chose, but, for the sake of flirting, perhaps bartending was the better option. 

He’ll miss you when you graduate and go off to start a new chapter in your life. 

You set the drink down on the counter, pushing it forwards and leaning your weight on your elbows. It was a slow night, but you figured now that John Price was here to pay you his company, time would tick faster than you wanted it to. 

The first hour and a half of his visit is a basic conversation – how was deployment, how does it feel to be home, how long before his next call in? He talks a little about his team – you’ve heard about “Soap” and “Ghost” and “Gaz” many times before, Price only ever allows you to know them by their callsigns, though, for privacy's sake, and only tells you very minor details. But after one or two glasses, Price allows himself to be free of his professional nature. His 141 men know 

“How come you never bring your boys around here, Captain?” 

“John,” You’re leaning so closely, he’s able to flick your nose as he corrects you. Not too hard, but very much playful. “And if I brought my boys around here, they’d never leave. Soap might steal my favorite girl.”

“Your favorite girl is too busy to be stolen, John,” You remind him, and you don’t say I’m too busy trying to give myself to you.  

Closing time comes all too quickly, as you figured it would. On a Monday night, there are generally very few customers, and you’re able to start your side work at exactly eleven o’clock. John sticks around as you clean up and count the register, offering his company. Being that he was such a regular, he even knows where to find the broom and shortens your to-do list by sweeping the floor. 

This is your favorite part, when you lock up the door and begin your walk home with Captain John Price at your side, allowing you to hook your arm through his. Like a gentleman, he’s always happy to walk you home. 

“No boyfriend, yet, [Y/N]?” He says, lighting a cigar, “No one to tell me off for walking so close to their girl?”

You giggle, “No boyfriend. If I did, though, I don’t think you’d be one to be worried about it. Unless it was that guy you mentioned earlier – Soap? Maybe you could introduce us?”

“He’s too much fun, I think,” John sniggered.

“Are you saying I’m too serious?”

“Serious enough, fun enough. Soap is too much fun.”

 “Aww,” You feign a pout, “You don’t want me to like him, do you?”

As you finally approach your apartment door, John lightly shoves you toward it. He pulls the cigar away from his lips, leaning against the wall with a smirk. 

“You can have that one if you want, love,” he says, “Don’t come bothering me when you’re with him, though. Can’t have both.”

“No, I couldn’t,” You agree, you gesture to your apartment, “You won’t let me let you in.”

He hums, watching you unlock and push open the door. You lift your eyes to gaze up at him through your lashes, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips. 

“Come have a glass with me, John, I can bartend for you here, too.”

The back of his hand reached out, stroking the subtle skin of your cheek. He would love to come inside and know the structure of your home, and the decorations that would be a complimentary extension of your personality. When it came to you, he was Pandora and you were his box. 

You were a beautiful girl, and the thought of having your company outside of your work hours was enticing. He wanted to know you like the back of his own hand, he wanted to see what was inside this box, but John knew better than to cross this line – that line being your doorway. 

Oh, how he wished he was at least ten years younger. 

“You know I can only go so far with you, love,” He says, taking another draw from his cigar. “Your doormat is the limit.”

It’s not the first time you heard that, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. As mentioned earlier, you were an ambitious girl; you were often berated in your early childhood by your mother for trying to get away with the same stuff over and over and over again until you finally learned the secret to getting away with your innocent little crimes successfully.

As you said once before, you’ll breathe when you have everything you ever wanted. 

Blaze

0 notes

[realcube]

WRATH & LUST . t.kei / y.tadashi

synopsis ✧ you hate tsukishima kei. you do everything in your power to make his life miserable but nothing works. now you have no choice but to fuck his best friend

cws/tags ✧ college au , enemies to enemies who screw, cursing, fob, smut, vaginal, oral (recieving) & praise — minors dni

parts ✧ i. ii. iii. iv.

maybe you were overexaggerating a bit when you said that yamaguchi is always with tsukishima, because there are a couple times a week when you know they'll be apart.

your friend is a part of the college's newspaper club, and she mentioned that yamaguchi is a member too, but tsukishima isn't. this gave you the perfect opportunity to the catch him alone and prey on his weakest form.

you saunter up to the news room, and catch yamaguchi waiting outside. they don't usually enter until your friend, the chief editor, arrives. "excuse me?"

your voice is soft and inviting, hence yamaguchi is stunned when he turns to see you. his guard is up, but unlike tsukishima, he doesn't immediately resort to aggression, "yes?" he replies quietly.

"is this the newspaper society?" you ask innocently, tilting your head with a smile.

yamaguchi is unsure as to why you are being so mellow towards him, considering your history, but as he chokes back a gulp, he figures that maybe your negative sentiments are purely towards tsukishima and up until now he has just been caught in the crossfire.

"yes, this is. i'm waiting for the editor to get here."

"oh, hana?" your lips are parts slightly, as he nods, "she is my friend. i'm sure she won't mind if we just go in."

"are you sure?" his questions is basically answered as he watches you enter the news room. he hesitantly follows behind, thinking he can shift the blame onto you if the chief editor is upset.

"so, are you a member? i've never seen you here before." he asks while fidgeting with his hands, taking a seat in his usual spot.

"no, not yet. i want to join though which is why i'm here." you sit near yamaguchi, on the table, "but i hear you're full. could you put in a good word for me, tadashi?"

you giggle. bafflement and wary burn at his face, dusting his cheeks a slight pink, "if you're friends with hana then i'm sure you don't need me to talk you up to her."

"well, yeah, but she's reluctant to let me join because, in her words, i can be 'volatile and confrontational'." you muse, legs swinging lightly as you turn to look at yamaguchi with a knowing smirk, "i'm so not, though. you can vouch for me, right?"

yamaguchi blinks, then responds, "yeah. you're the most docile person i know."

you find it cute that he plays along with your jokes. plus, now that you're actually taking a good look at him, you realise he has such a sweet, squishable face. how does the sweetest boy ever end up in the company of lucifer incarnate?

"i wouldn't say docile. that's too far-fetched." you tease.

"mild?"

"eh."

"poise?"

"i like that one but still no."

"composed?"

"that could work!" you cheer, displaying the palm of your hand he insantly reciprocates with a high-five. just as your shared laughter begins to die down, hana and a couple other members of the newspaper society enter the room.

you spend the rest of the hour in the back of the room, working on an article with yamaguchi. your friend knew about your plan, and she didn't mind you utilising her society to achieve your end goal, but you'd hate to impede on her work flow for too long so you pulled out all the stops to ensure you gain tadashi's favour as quickly as possible.

and it worked like a charm. despite never having communicated directly with each other before, you chatted throughout the whole hour like you were lifelong best friends. there was an undeniable chemistry between the two of you — the sweet and sour.

plus, you both have a lot more in common than you may have initially thought. your music tastes are very similar, surprisingly, and you like the same movies/shows. he shows you a couple of his playlists and you do the same, discussing the concerts you've been to and what merchandise you have.

you learned that he is studying to be an electronic engineer while tsukishima is studying history, but he chose maths electives just so they could be in a couple of classes together. they also used to do volleyball together in highschool and are both apart of the volleyball society in college.

so corny and so cheesy but coming from the mouth of yamaguchi, it was the sweetest, most moving story of friendship you've ever heard.

even when meeting ended, you both still walked together out of the building, blathering away about anything and everything, it comes to an abrupt holt when you reach the building's exit.

perplexed, yamaguchi asks, "which way are you going? if you want, i could walk you to your bus stop?"

you smile awkwardly, pretending to be sheepish about the proposition despite it being exactly what you anticipated, "i would love that. but i don't think tsukishima would be too delighted to see us together."

yamaguchi frowns at the reminder but nods.

"but," you continue, pulling a pen and scrap piece of paper from your bag and hurriedly jotting something down, "you can ring me if you ever want to talk. or anything else." you hand it to him with a wink and yamaguchi's throat dies up at your suggestion, he is barely able to croak out an 'okay'.

"see you later!" you skip off and yamaguchi is left speechless behind.

ೃ⁀➷

you had warmed up to each other very quickly. texting each other videos, emojis and pictures every other minute. didn't even take two days before you both had a shared playlist. you were up until ungodly hours of the night facetiming each other.

it was so frequent, yamaguchi had to change your contact information to a fake name because he was getting tired of constantly having to hide his phone from tsukishima, since there was bound to be a notification from you on his screen.

"are you gonna buy tickets tonight???" "noooo don't remind me tadashi" "what's the matter ???😧" "wi-fi sucks at my houseee. i never get concert tickets on time. always end up paying resale prices 😤" "you can come to mine if you want! my wifi is good"

you took him up on his offer. you went over to his dorm at 10PM, since tickets when on sale at 11PM in your time zone. (darn international artists!)

it was a blood-bath but by the grace of god you both successfully secured two tickets to see your favourite artist performing live, with seats very close to the stage!

so of course you had to celebrate somehow.

shaky breathes escaped his lips, soft moans intertwined. his shirt had come off, exposing his tan skin to the hot atmosphere of his bedroom. hypnotised by the way your tight cunt sucked needily on his cock, dripping cum all over his bare shaft.

his gaze was only freed from your sex when he was nearing his climax and a sudden bolt of ecstasy wracked through him, causing his eyes to roll back, "so tight, (y/n)." he grunted, grabbing your ass and squeezing it.

he had you sprawled out over his bed face down, while he stood by the edge and fucked you from behind. he gave you a pillow to rest your cute head on so your neck wouldn't hurt, and he held your legs by his sides while he ploughed into you. four years of volleyball practise has its uses.

his pace is relentless but rhythmic; at first he fucked you leisurely, allowing you to appreciate every inch of him as he'd pull out of you excruciatingly slowly, then ease himself back in until his achy tip prodded your cervix. he wasn't doing it to torment you though, just to give you some time to grow accustomed to his length.

it was better that way; your desperate pussy welcomed him instead of trying to force him out. in fact, it clung to him so tightly it was challenging for him to pull out of you, somehow he managed.

as he approached his orgasm, his thrusts became hurried and sloppy, raring to spill inside your sopping pussy. but ever the altruist, he slips his fingers between your legs to press and rub at your clit fervently, "close, baby?"

his cock splits in you half, and your pussy throbs around him. the power with which he rams into you has made you hazy, drooling mess, only able to weakly buck your hips in reciprocation to his thrusts. you try to whine a meek 'yes' but your face is buried in the pillow, thus yamaguchi only hears an unclear, muffled noise.

he furrows his brows and moves his hands up to your waist, "'m gonna flip you over, yeah?" he pants, still fucking you as he talks, "wanna see that pretty face." in a surge of strength and energy, he pulls you off the bed and flips you onto your back, offering you a gentle smile when you lock eyes.

you weakly smile back, about the only autonomy you could exhibit while his cock continued to pound into you, moulding your walls around him. you were losing control of yourself with each thrust; clinging to the sheets and allow a string of lewd moans and profanities spill from your mouth. somewhere in the mix there was his name.

"tadashi.."

your eyes were closed, and your melodious voice called out for him to save you, like he wasn't tucked inside you. hearing you say his name like that — so filthy and obscene — delighted him in ways he didn't know were possible and only urged him closer to his climax. "(y/n), say that again, please."

the wet slapping noises he made against your cunt grew louder; it was a miracle you could still hear his pastel voice. being railed into the plush sheets of his bed, your mind and body were in two different realms, so when you tried to utter his name once more, all that came out was a series of moans and gasps.

"c'mon, (y/n)." he pled, gripping onto your hips like you are his life force, "i need you. be a good girl for me, please."

he punctuated each word with a harsh thrust, brushing your cervix each time and it didn't take much else for you to come crash down around him. spasming and twitching on his dick, your scream echoing through the room while he fucked you through it. your throbbing pussy still being used for his pleasure.

even when you were nearing completion, your pussy still fluttered around him and you squealed, "tadashi!" as the world became hazy and blurred around you.

which was enough to send him hurdling over the edge too. his teeth are gritted together and his hands tense on your waist when he cums inside you. his thrusts waver for only a moment before he temporarily resumes, this time with less vigour and with the sole purpose of milking himself dry inside you.

once he could feel his hot cum packed safely within your walls, he was finally able to gasp for air. he doesn't want to pull out, he's comfortable as he is, but the curious part of him wants to see how his load looks inside you.

he pulls out, only to kneel and examine your glistening hole. too fucked out and sore, you lay on the bed and try to catch your breath, allowing him to push your legs wide open without protest.

"so pretty." he mused, watch as a bit of his cum dribbles out of your pussy and onto your ass. not to worry though, as he uses his two fingers to guide it back inside you. idly, he pushes his fingers inside you and revels at how tight you still are.

"you're perfect." without thinking about it, he curls his fingers inside, then delicately drags them in and out, wrenching a feeble whine from your throat. "do you know how perfect you are?"

he pressed a loving kiss against your clit before poking his head up from between your legs to look at you. "mm" is all you respond with. he chuckles, "that's not a yes or no, baby."

he doesn't dwell on it too long. he'll stop bothering you now by trying to get you to respond to him; you're probably still recovering from your intense orgasm. yamaguchi goes back to admiring your hole, captivated by how his cum has filled you up, and whenever it tries to escape but it is prevented from doing so by his fingers.

"you look so beautiful like this. i wanna burn this image into my brain so i can keep it forever." he kisses your pussy again, french this time. his lips move graciously against your folds and his tongue plunges inside you. you taste so good, so intoxicating, he moans into your skin, the vibrations causing you to gasp. he continues to suck and lick inside your puckered hole, until he gets a taste of himself on his tongue, which causes him to falter and slowly pull away.

"i've never had sex with a girl on the pill before. but this was just.." he can't seem to find the word he's looking for. perhaps it doesn't exist. "amazing. well, that doesn't even cover half of it." he grins foolishly, caressing the inside of your thigh and still gazing at your hole.

"yeah." after lying motionless for a while, you seem to have finally come back down to earth and can form full sentences again. "amitriptyline is great, isn't it?"

"uhuh.." he muses, thinking about how gorgeous you look until what you said finally registers in head and he springs to his feet, "what!?"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You've had a crush on your best friend for years, but you're slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: nice to see ya again!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Thor makes himself as permanent as the layers of sediment. Whether you’re in the dirt or looking over the charts and maps, making notes or sorting through your findings, he appears. Knowing he’ll be there keeps you coming yourself. Despite the short nights and long drives, thinking of him finding an empty site deters you from a day off, even against Sam’s pleas. 

The night before was filled with similar chiding from your friend. Sam is as persistent as ever. He always has a new account of his antics with Bucky and never forgets to tell you to take a break. You can’t stop though. You know if you do, you’ll have to think about everything you’re denying. 

The time away has given you time to breathe but it’s suffocated you in new ways. Along with that weight on your chest that has a name, there’s another you can’t quite understand. The one that sees you spending your spare hours alone and your working hours longing for anything but. You’re desperate to get out but terrified of the very same. 

When he arrives that day, you’re ready to give up. The tension in the air is giving you a headache and the dampness makes your skin feel sticky. You just feel gross. 

“Ah, I didn’t think you’d brave the weather today,” he muses as Thunder hops around his feet. You don’t look up, in a mood as grim as the sky. “You’d do well to stay in tomorrow. Trust me.” 

He’s always right about the weather. It must be the familiarity and yet it’s almost eerie how accurate he is. You might take his advice. You don’t like being wet and you’re starting to go cross-eyed from the hours and hours of concentration. 

Thunder yipes as you use your gloves to brush away clumps of dirt. Thor’s footsteps mulch patches of grass that sparsely carpet the dirt. He hums as his shadows looms in your peripheral. 

“Yes, my darling, I believe you’ve found the perfect spot,” he praises. 

You look over curiously. What is he talking about? You only notice then that he has more than the tiny dog with him. He has a basket on his elbow and a blanket under his arm. You sit up and watch him place down the former and shake out the latter.  

He spreads the blanket over the dirt and Thunder jumps onto it, rolling around on the fabric, digging her nose into the patched quilt as she wiggles across it. You clap off your hands and watch him as he gets down to his knees and flips open one side of the basket. He lays out several containers and two thermos’; one is the very same he brought you tea in.  

“I thought you could use a nice lunch before the weather turns,” he stands and nears the fence, “summer doesn’t last long here. You may as well enjoy it.” 

“Lunch?” You utter. 

“Brunch?” He suggest coyly. “Surely you can take a break. You are only human, you need to eat.” 

“You...” you lean to see around him, “you brought me lunch?” 

“I know it isn’t the most elaborate picnic but I thought it might be a pleasant surprise. I must confess I’ve been rather bored these days,” he admits, “so?” 

“Thor, that’s so... sweet,” you frown, “but...” 

“Work, work, work. Surely they can’t expect you to work yourself to the bone, pardon the pun,” he insists, “it will only be a bit.” 

“Yes, but...” you leave the sentence to hang. You don’t have a good excuse. You don’t know. It just makes you nervous. It’s a whole lot of effort for just you.  

“Oh, I don’t mind if you would rather stay over there. Only mean more for, eh, Thunder?” He asks the canine tramping around the blanket. “More than happy to sit here and enjoy my jelly cookies and hot coffee. 

“Coffee?” Your brows raise. 

“Freshly brewed. Promise, There’s nothing pickled. Though I don’t mind a nice herring,” he grins. 

Thunder bounces over and barks at you. She stands on her hind legs as she paws at the barrier between you. Now, how can you deny her? 

You stand and shed your gloves. You carry them over to the table beneath the tent and grab a wet wipe from the back. You come back under the open sky as you wipe your hands. 

“Sorry about all the dirt,” you scoff as you cross the dirt. 

“I don’t mind,” he assures you. He pulls apart the panels of the fence to let you through. It isn’t something you could ever forget but you can’t help but be stricken again by his sheer size. 

You bend to pet Thunder as she gets between your feet. She licks your fingers and you giggle. She’s cute. 

“Go on, pick her up,” Thor goads, “she loves it.” 

You scoop up the dog and stand. She squirms as she wags her tail incessantly. She swipes your chin with her tongue and you scrunch up your face. You carry her to the blanket and look over the spread. A leafy salad, pasta salad, sandwiches, cookies... There’s so much. Your protein bars and peanut butter and jelly can’t compare. 

“Oh gosh, this... a lot.” 

“Is it? Isn’t too much. We’re friends, yes?” 

“Friends?” You face him as you pet Thunder’s soft head. 

“Perhaps it is rather one-sided. You are obligated to be here, I just sort of haunt this place,” he chuckles. 

“No, no, friends,” you smile, “that sounds about right.” 

You turn away and lower yourself onto the blanket, sure to keep your boots off of it, as you hide your face. There’s a tinge of disappointment. You hear a far off echo in your head. How many times did Steve say the same; we’re friends, just friends, you’re such a good friend. Well, that’s all this is. No need to be so sensitive. 

“Do you ever take time off?” He asks as he gets to his knees. 

You look at him as you put Thunder down. He barely keeps her from chomping down on a rye crust. He lifts her easily and she kicks her legs. 

“Eh, you beast,” he points a finger at her snout, “be good.” 

He sets her back on her paws and she obeys. He tells her to sit and she does so. Her eyes continue to hungrily rove over the food. How can he resist them? 

“Like you said, the weather won’t last. Should get done what I can before the ground gets cold.” 

“Ah, yes, that is a concern,” he tuts, “how would you deal with that?” 

“Heat lamps, tiger torch... jackhammer if I really need but I’d have to put in a request for that...” you hadn’t thought too much into the inevitability of winter.  

“Ah, that’s...” he smirks, “I’m sorry but the idea of you with a jackhammer,” he snorts. 

“Hey,” you pout. 

“It isn’t to be mean but... you’re so gentle. When you dig, you’re so delicate about it.” 

“Am I?” You wonder. 

“Mm, is it a bit weird to say so?” He wonders aloud. “Yes, you are very precise, very cautious.” He takes out a set of plates and offers you one, “please, help yourself.” 

“It must be boring watching. Really, I’m the one digging and it gets dull,” you accept and pluck out one of the sandwiches. Salmon, you think. 

“You make it interesting,” he muses. “You talk to the bones.” 

“I talk to the bones?” You repeat, “what?” 

“Yes, I suppose you’re not aware of it. But your lips move when you’re focused. As if you’re chatting up the dirt,” he chuckles, “sometimes a few words do slip out.” 

“They do?” You blanch before you can help yourself to the salad. 

“You don’t say much. Usually something about the dishes, I’m not too sure.” 

“You never mentioned,” you look away shyly. 

“It’s... cute,” he shrugs. 

“You mean crazy,” you shake your head. 

“I say what I mean,” he counters. “No use in not. We can’t be happy if we’re not honest, not least of all with ourselves.” 

You’re quiet as you turn your attention to your plate. His words feel sharp despite his placid tone. You know it’s only because they’re true, especially for you. If you’d just accepted everything sooner, if you hadn’t been so dumb, if you hadn’t been so emotional, it would never have gotten so bad. No, if you’d just been honest. 

“I hope... I hope that didn’t come off wrong,” he says. 

“No, no, I’m... this all looks so good and I’m starving,” you assure him as you sit back with your plate. “Thank you again. This is... great.” 

“Well, I was thinking, you must miss your friends. I might be a paltry substitute but I thought i might fill that gap, even just for an hour.” 

“It’s really...” your eyes tingle but you push away the tinge of sadness, “it’s really nice.” 

“So tell me,” he scoops up salad onto his plate, “tell me about home.” 

“I...” you begin, surprised by the prompt. “It’s just home. New York. It’s busy and loud. Not like here.” 

“No, not that. Your friends. I want to know all about them. If I’m ever going to come up standards, I’ve got to know the competition.” 

You laugh. He speaks as if he needs to impress you. It’s nice to be somewhere where no one knows you’re not that special. You take a bite of the sandwich and chew, thinking out your question.  

You swallow, “well, my friend Sam, he calls every night to bitch at me. He’s great. Supportive but pushy. He likes to terrorise Bucky. He’s the strong and silent type, you know? Grumpy to boot but they’re... they’re awesome.” You smile without thinking, “before I left, they took me to this cocktail bar...” you blow out between your lips and roll your eyes, “real girly stuff.” 

“Ooh, cocktails. I’ve been known to indulge. I love finding new recipes.” 

“Really?” 

“Oh, yes, I love the sweet ones. I’ve only just perfected my blueberry basil concoction. I’m afraid I can’t share the secret ingredient unfortunately.” 

“Blueberry?” You ponder the flavour, “sounds yummy.” 

“Perhaps one day you can try it,” he suggest. 

“Maybe,” you say evasively. “Anyway, yeah, Sam and Bucky are... characters.” 

“They sound like it. How’d you meet?” 

“Oh, it’s boring. What about you?” 

“It’s not my turn,” he deflects, “tell me.” 

You don’t know why he cares. It’s as confounding as everything else about him. You still don’t get why he’s here watching you sit in the dirt. It sounds as grueling as watching a golfing tournament, in your opinion. Yet here he is, a man who looks like that, staring at you in your mud-stained khakis. 

“College. We met through a mutual friend,” you explain vaguely. 

“Ah, so you’ve been friends for some time. Yes, I see, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he hums thoughtfully as he toys with the braid that hangs loose by his face, the rest of his hair twisted back as always. 

“Steve,” you say without thinking, your eyes drifting off into the distance, “he was my best friend. We met in art history. We spent almost every day together. Studying, whatever. He was more of a partier than me but... fifteen years, more than, and we saw each other...” You choke on your words and scoff darkly, “sorry, that’s... I’m homesick, I think.” 

You bat away the glaze in your eyes and focus on your food. You take a few bites as he sits quietly. Thunder stands up cautiously and crosses the blanket. She settles against your leg, leaning her head on your thigh. It’s comforting. 

“Yes, I think I would be very homesick as well. I lived in the city for a while but mother and father, they need me. And I love this mountain. It’s home. There was nothing in Oslo for me. I can work from here.” 

“Work? What exactly do you do?” You ask, happy to divert from your own painful past. “Oo, are you like a farmer? Or a shepherd. There must be sheep up here or something.” 

He laughs, “there are some sheep, yes, but those are protected by the government. We’ve not much of a choice where they settle. No, I’m not so savvy as all that.” 

“Hm, you... oh, what could do you here?” You look around, “on a mountain... oh, tours? Do you give tours?” 

He laughs, “it’s not a bad idea, but no. I’m a business owner.” 

“A business. You must sell fitness or something.” 

“Must I?” He narrows his eyes, “and what else do you assume about me?” 

“Oh, it’s only you’re so...” you cringe as you eke out the word, “big?” 

“Genetics,” he affirms, “not that but close, in a matter of looking at it. You recall that tea I brought you, with the cloudberry?” 

“Uh, yeah, it was sweet. Yummy.” 

“I’m happy you enjoyed it,” he smiles proudly, “I make superblends. All Nordic ingredients. There is a demand for wellness and organic products. I found the right niche and I’ve not done too badly.” 

“Must not if you can live all the way up here,” you remark. 

“Yes, but... it’s a reason I moved back. Business is a lonely venture. Now I’ve got it all figured out, I have my managers and my business plan, I break even, I realise how much I put to the side,” he mulls his sandwich and takes a glum bite. It’s the first time you’ve seen him anything but bright and beaming, “I feel like I’ve fallen behind. Like I’m playing catch up.” 

His words sink in and storm inside of you. You crunch on the crisp lettuce and gulp. You wipe your mouth with a napkin and clear your throat. 

“I know exactly what you mean,” you say breathily. 

“Do you? You’re out here, on an adventure all you’re own, how brave,” his voice is wistful and his gray blue eyes reminds you of the clouds above. 

“Yes, I know,” you say, “better than you. Trust me.” 

You smile, a bittersweet tug in your cheeks, and he stares back at you. Your eyes cling to each other and you feel as if the world is moving around you. He smiles and a glimmer of something unfurls in your chest. You make yourself look away. 

“Well,” you push the salad around your plate, “what about you? You must have friends, aside from the girl in the dirt.” 

He hums and scrapes up a bite of the pasta salad. He takes his time chewing before he answers. You scratch Thunder’s nose as she sniffs at your plate. 

“Yes, if you ever come to sample my cocktails, you might meet a few,” he coaxes, “I think you’d get along. Hogan and Vol, and Fandy. All good company. Sif’s not around so often when my brother’s around but he’s as fleeting as the sun.” He tuts, “I would call Loki a friend as well but he does scowl at the very thought.” 

“Loki?” 

“My brother of course,” he explains with , “yes, he is quite the dour one. He might get along with that Bucky.” 

[drvscarlett]

Let him cook pt 2

Charles Leclerc x Masterchef!reader

Series Part: 1

taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams @barcelonaloverf1life

CharlesLeclercUpdates posted a photo.

CharlesLeclercUpdates Charles Leclerc appeared in MasterChef Australia episode "Cooking to Survive"

User1 Ariana what are you doing hereeeee??

User2 I thought only f2 drivers were allowed for that, why was Charles wandering around

User7 In his defense, Ollie was with him. Maybe Ollie got invited and Charles tagged along.

User3 Okay but did anyone notice how his eyes lit up when Y/N talked to him. The boy was whipped!

User8 Charles can't get Y/N, he can't even cook User9 Agree User8! Besides Y/N has a long-time boyfriend, they are super cute. Do you all not watch the different challenges she dedicated to him?

Y/NCooks posted a photo.

Liked by Charles_Leclerc, friend1, and 255,000 others.

YNCooks what a stunning day! We won today as the captain of the red team and coincidentally there was a red team 1-2 as well??? #AlwaysBetOnRed

User1 Mother you slayed!!! I was so surprised to see you at the GP!

YNCooks me too!! This is one of the best team challenges ever.

User2 Charles is on the likes. Charles is on the likes.

Charles_Leclerc Congrats on your win!!!

Y/NCooks Thank you! You too, you did great!!!

User3 The collab of this masterchef and f1 community is not on my bingo list.

User4 Y/N's boyfriend how are you feeling that Charles is stealing your girl away??

"Are you seeing this right now? They thought that I am stealing you away" Charles grumbles over the phone. You can't see him right now but you can actually visualize the frown lines forming and the soft scowl that he has on his face "Why would I steal my own girlfriend?"

"Oh mon ami"

"And did they even watch the episodes? Like couldn't they piece it together that I'm the one that you are referring to I mean the cake and then the adopted italian narrative" Charles continued to rant on

It was adorable to hear Charles like this. How you wish that you weren't just conversing over the phone, how you wish that you could be there for him right now.

"Y/N you still there?" Charles' voice brought you out of your musings.

"Yep, I'm still here. Just a little bit tired" you explained

"You had a really long day mon amour."He says "I'm really so proud of you. You are slowly achieving your dreams"

"As I am very proud of you Charles. You always shine the brightest when you are up on that podium. I wish I could be there on the front lines cheering for you"

"One day you will be"

There is a peaceful silence shared between the two of you. The thing about you and Charles was that you both understand that this is a better situation than being under scrutiny by everyone. Charles had his fair share of public relationship and he learned a lot from it. He just wanted to keep this as his for a little while longer.

"I love you, I'll see you soon" "Love you more honey"

Risotto challenge

You were not always having a good day in the kitchen and this is one of those episodes that you did not do well hence the elimination challenge. The judges commented that there was no problem with the dish that you made but it was simply not as risky as what the others did. So you are really driven to show them creativeness.

Charles was watching the episode with so much dread as he hears that the elimination dish is a reinvention of a risotto. He watched enough MasterChef season with you to know that this dish is the death dish aka the dish that usually sends people home.

He understands the dilemma that you are facing right now, play it safe and stick to the classic which means it won't stand out or play it risky and be booted for elimination.

"I'm making Quinoa risotto" that was your bold decision and Charles couldn't believe his ears.

"Mon amour, risotto is rice. Quinoa is not rice" Charles mumbled to himself

"I know its a big risk but I have to show them that I am a risk taker and that I am a MasterChef winner material"you confidently state in the interview.

It was a stressful few minutes to Charles as he watched how the judges has already decided that the idea of a quinoa risotto would be an utter disaster. Nevertheless, he saw the determination in your eyes and how you defended why you opted to go for a risotto.

"Do you often cook quinoa at home?" Matt asked as he and Jean Pierre White scrutinize your table.

"I don't really" you replied with a shy smile "Well truthfully I don't even know what quinoa is before my boyfriend introduced me to it. It was a part of his diet so I went ahead and learn how to cook quinoa so he could eat"

This was new information for Charles and he felt warm with this new fact. He remembers how every time he visits you, there will be a variation of his diet meals that will ensure that he won't get bored of food and still be on track with his diet. He takes note that he will be grateful for that when she comes back.

"We're looking forward to taste that risotto" Matt says

Time went by and Charles let out a small sigh of relief after knowing that you completed your dish. Charles have full confidence with the dish that you made and he hopes that the judges will take a new perspective with this quinoa risotto.

"Quinoa is not a risotto" Marco Pierre White stated. It was all so menacing how he said it with flat emotions and a monotone voice. Charles could feel himself sweating as they tasted the dish.

"But this is another take that I will welcome" Another sigh of relief for Charles. He knows that you got this in the bag.

Cooking for a special someone

"We're now down to a challenge for the top two spots in the MasterChef kitchen, are you excited?"

Everything was so surreal. Starting from 20 and now they are down to the last 4 contestant. You were so grateful that you are another step closer to your dream of being a MasterChef winner.

"For this week, we will be bringing in some important guests who you will need to impress in order to secure a spot as a MasterChef finalist."

The contestants were asked to step one by one. You started to notice that they brought in their loved ones and you were fidgeting a bit because you don't know who they will bring out.

"Last but definitely not the least, Y/N step forward" Gary says "Are we gonna meet the boyfriend?"

"Oooh the boyfriend. We have been hearing about him for ages now" Matt teased

"The boyfriend is very busy" you replied as you remembered that he is probably in America right now.

"Oh cmon, cant he miss out a day or two"

"Its a job hazard to miss out a few days" you answered. It's all about the points so you really can't fault Charles not wanting to miss a single day at work.

"Okay in that case, our mystery guest for Y/N is............."

The MasterChef door opens and you were surprised to see not one but two Leclercs.

"What are you doing here down under?" you asked as you gave them a hug

"We're going to support you obviously!" Arthur grinned

It was weird because this was the first time that you will be with Arthur and Lorenzo with cameras rolling. You were nearly in tears when you hugged the two of them. Without even asking, you knew right away that Charles sent them since he will be busy with the races.

"And who are they to your life Y/N?" the judges asked

"This is Arthur and Lorenzo, they are very close friends. They treat me as if I'm one of their own" you smiled.

"I'm sure you are going to be inspired to cook now that you have them around"

The pressure was definitely on especially when you were told that there is a need to present 2 dishes, one sweet and another savory in 75 minutes. However, you were pumped to hear the cheers coming from the balcony as Arthur enthusiastically showers you with compliment while Lorenzo takes photos.

Charles, on the other hand, has been constantly checking his phone, now that he is done with free practice. He felt quite jealous that his brothers were able to see you and support you in person. Although, he was quite happy that they are having the time of life supporting you.

Lorenzo texted him about 30 minutes ago that they will be judging and eating the food that the contestants made. He was slowly getting impatient of the results, he wanted to know what's going on.

1 new text message.

Lorenzo: She got in! She's a finalist!!!

[fanficimagery]

Joining the Biz.

When the hotels are all booked up, your cousin asks if a few friends can crash at your place. You accept, not knowing you'll be meeting some people who will become lifelong friends and get a shot at doing what you once loved. [Part One of Three]

Words: 7.7K Author's Note: Never thought I'd wanna write for wrestlers. Just a reminder that I am writing for the CHARACTERS they portray on TV and the way I think these CHARACTERS would be "at home", therefore everyone is single lol. I will tagging this as Jey Uso X Reader, but please be informed that it will not be romance heavy. I'm pretty sure there's not a lot of Jey/Reader interactions, but some of the stuff between them is cutesy rather than steamy. ALSO EVERYONE'S OOC BECAUSE I JUST RECENTLY STARTED WATCHING AND I DON'T KNOW THEIR PERSONALITIES JUST YET.

You're watching the new A Quiet Place movie when your cell rings. Glancing briefly at the screen sitting next to your thigh, you see it's your cousin that you haven't seen in quite a few months.

Pausing the movie, you answer the call. "Dum-Dum, you're alive!"

"Aye, prima, I got a huge favor to ask."

"Hey, YN, long time no talk. How are you? I'm good, what about you, cuz?" You retort a little mockingly.

Dominik sighs and your lips twitch in amusement. "Hi, prima. You good?"

"Never better. Now what do you need?"

The line goes quiet for a few seconds before, "So Monday Night Raw and Friday Night Smackdown are gonna be in the same arena next week and with all the wrestlers in one place, the hotels booked up pretty quickly."

"Okay, and?"

"It's in your city."

It takes a moment, but a lightbulb goes off over your head. "Let me guess, you need a place to stay?"

"Not me, but three friends do. They're scrambling right now, cuz. Please tell me no one's moved in since we last talked."

Chuckling softly, you say, "You know I'm gonna be the perpetually single prima." Dominik chuckles on his side of the line. "And my two spare rooms are always ready for a visitor. But if you're really desperate for a third, I don't mind bunking up with someone since my bed is huge. So long as it doesn't piss off any significant other, someone can bunk with me."

"Aw damn. Your bed is comfy as fuck, and you never let anyone in it."

"No, I just don't let you in it, Dum-Dum. I learned my lesson when we were little. You fight in your sleep."

"Do not."

"Do too. Now, am I rolling out the welcome mat or what? And for how long?"

"One sec." You hang on, listening to the muffled chatter. You don't know who it is that might possibly be staying with you, but you do catch Dominik mentioning that someone named Damian could benefit from sharing with you since he's the tallest and would actually fit in your bed. A few more moments and then he says, "Yes, and are you able to host for like a week or so? We'll be flying out early tomorrow morning. I can be at your place with your guests around five or six in the evening."

"That's fine. Do I get to know who I'm hosting?"

You hear Dominik squeak before, "Hi, mate. It's Rhea. Thanks so much for doing this. I really wasn't looking forward to sharing a small bed with someone."

"It's 'ya uce, Jey Uso." You chuckle at his enthusiasm, realizing his energy matches his persona on TV.

"And, uh, I'm Damian. I promise I don't punch or kick in my sleep."

You huff a laugh. "Priest, right? The tall one?"

"Yeah."

"You'll be good, man. The mattress of my bed is literally from one side of the wall to the other. The only way to get on it is to crawl on from the foot of the bed. Just ask Dominik."

"S'true, man. YN has always been weird about her space on the bed. She needs a lot of it."

"But I'll be fine sharing. I just wasn't a fan of waking up spooning or being spooned by a cousin. But walking, talking, kink material? Yes, please."

There's a sharp bark of laughter of who you assume is Rhea.

"What did you just say?" Dominik muses, more laughter ringing out as your words sink in.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, cuz. I'm only joking."

"No, you're not. You totally think he's hot."

"Duh. Ripley, Priest, the Usos, Roman Reigns.. they're all smokin'."

"Thanks, mate!"

"You're welcome, mi amor," you retort. "But just because I think they're hot doesn't mean I wanna be railed by them, Dum-Dum."

"I know." He gives a long suffering sigh that you can't help but smile at. "It's why when I realized we were gonna be in town and these morons needed a place to crash, I thought of you. You won't fuck around with my friends. Not like that."

"Aw, I love you too, cuz. Now get off my phone. I was watching a movie before you interrupted me."

"Alright, alright. I'll text you tomorrow."

"Okay. Bye, everyone!"

After hearing a chorus of byes in return, you end the call and go back to your movie.

After a long morning and afternoon of cleaning and changing out bedsheets for fresh ones, you're finally able to relax. You had planned to make a meal, but not knowing if anyone had any dietary restrictions, you decided against it. Instead, your cousin Dominik assured you that they'd pick up some food on the way to your house for you and themselves since you're hosting them.

You're cleaning the pool and making sure the water is balanced to be of use the next day when your phone pings with alerts from your security cameras out front. When you check it and see a black SUV parked behind your Jeep Compass and Range Rover in the driveway, you put everything away and head inside to greet your guests through the front door.

You open your front door, leaning against the door jamb as you watch the men unload suitcases and duffel bags.

Rhea Ripley, however, is walking up your porch stairs with four boxes of pizza in hand. "Ding dong," she muses.

"Hi," you greet. She manages to balance the boxes on one hand, reaching out with the other to give you a brief hug. "Did you guys have a good flight? Drive?"

"Yeah, dude, it was fine. Just this thing with the hotel was stressing us out, but you and Dom came through for us."

"Well, I'm glad to be of service," you say. Just then, the guys start walking up. "Hey, Dum-Dum."

You offer him a brief hug right before he personally introduces you to Rhea, Damian, and Jey.

"Hey, lil' mama, thanks for doing this. It was really cool of you to let us crash here," Jey says.

"It's no problem whatsoever," you assure him. "Now if you guys wanna come in and set the food in the kitchen, I'll show you around real quick."

Rhea sets the pizzas down on the kitchen island, Dominik volunteers to get drinks out, as well as plates while you show your three guests around. The main rooms they need to know on the first floor are the bathroom, the laundry room, your office in case they have any work that needs to be addressed with a computer, and one of the free guest rooms. Rhea and Jey glance at each other, but when you assure them the two guest rooms are the same size, Jey opts for it and sets his belongings in the room.

Upstairs, Rhea places her own belongings in the second spare room, peeks into the main bathroom between the bedrooms, and then the way Damian smiles when he sees the bed you and him are to share makes you laugh.

"Looks like I'm actually gonna get some good sleep this week," he says as he places his suitcase and bags off to the side. "Hotels really need to make bigger beds for those of us over six feet."

"Goddamn, you're tall," you mutter.

Rhea laughs, even more so when Jey tries to swap places with Damian because your bed looks really inviting as large as it is.

When you head downstairs and back into the kitchen, Dominik asks, "Did you show them the gym?"

"Gym? What gym?" Rhea asks, clearly excited.

You roll your eyes at your cousin. "It's nothing fancy. I just closed off my garage and turned into a gym that's perfect for me."

"I wanna see it."

Chuckling softly, you lead them to your small gym. When you turn on the lights, you say, "It's nothing sophisticated, but it's mine."

"Can we use it?" Jey asks.

"Sure. You probably won't get the workout you're used to with this equipment, but you're more than welcomed to this space."

"As long as we can break a sweat, we're good," Rhea says.

"Question," Damian says, his deep voice sending shivers down your back. It's really unfair that your cousin's friends are so good looking. "Is that a stripper pole?"

"Yeah." You laugh. "Dum-Dum didn't tell you how I bought this house?"

Jey's mouth drops open. "Girl, you a stripper?"

"Was a stripper," you correct him. "But that's a long story. I can tell it over pizza."

As you head into the kitchen, Dominik tells the four of you to dig in while it's still warm. Dominik leans against one of the kitchen counters, you hop up on another, and your three guests take a seat on a stool at the kitchen island.

Only after everyone has downed at least a slice and a half does Dominik start talking.

"Is anyone curious as to why YN has a gym in her home?"

"Because she likes to work out?" Rhea shrugs, glancing around at the random question.

"To keep in shape for that stripper pole we peeped out there," Jey tries.

You grin, shaking your head at him. Apparently, he really wants that stripper story.

Damian, however, seems to piece a part of your story together. "With Dom and Rey in the business, my guess is that you're training for the family business as well."

With your free hand, you touch the tip of your nose and point at Damian with a wink. "Sort of."

"YN used to train with me when we were younger," Dominik says. "Was supposed to join the biz when I joined."

"What happened?" Rhea asks.

"My dad." With a sigh, you set down your half-eaten slice of pizza and take a drink of your soda. "I really love everything about the wrestling life and was stoked to be a part of it when Tio Rey said I had potential. My dad wanted me to head off to college, but my mom wanted me to do whatever made me happy."

"And wrestling made you happy," Jey says.

You nod. "Very much. I started training after school, giving Dum-Dum a run for his money," you muse before turning a little sad, "but then my mom got sick. Her insurance barely wanted to pay the bare minimum, my dad couldn't keep up with the bills, and it was my turn to get an after-school job that paid."

Everyone winces in sympathy.

"After I graduated high school, I knew I needed a job that would pay well without a college degree, so I took up stripping. It took me almost a year to make a name for myself and have some regular customers that showed up for only me, but I did it. I could tell my dad was highly disappointed, but he didn't say shit to my face because my money was making a dent in the bills that had been piling up." You pause to give a sigh. "After five years, the treatments just stopped working for my mom. She passed, my dad and I made plans to purchase this exact house we're standing in, but then his new girlfriend had to go and ruin that."

Dominik chuckles. "Pendeja was under the impression my tio was paying for this house. Little did she know that YN was putting up eighty percent of the cash for this place and was going to be paying the mortgage while her dad only paid the electric and water."

You shake your head as you remember everything you went through with your dad. "We were at the meeting to close on this house when his girlfriend started gushing about the changes she was going to make and how it was her house, and I scoffed. I informed her my name was going to be on the deed, changes would have to go through me and my dad, and that she wasn't going to have a say so like she planned. Only when my dad told me to just let his name and her name be on the deed, and he was serious about it, did I pull out from the deal.

"The homeowners who were selling understood because they'd been dealing with me the entire time, and in front of my dad, promised that they'd hold off if I still wanted the place and would give me time to get the rest of the cash. I wasn't going to agree because I really didn't need a place this big for just myself, but the second my dad called me a selfish bratty bitch did I agree to purchase the house and cut all contact with my dad."

"Damn, girl. That's rough," Damian says.

You nod. "It was, but I made do. I continued to dance to make up the difference, bought this place, and then danced some more to put myself through college. I earned a nice little nest egg while getting a higher education, and now that I work for myself.. I'm golden. I'm peachy fuckin' keen."

"That's what I like to hear," Rhea says, smiling and saluting you with her own drink.

"But that's not all, is it?" Dominik muses. "A little birdie told me that dad's been advocating for you in WWE."

You smile as everyone glances at you. "Your little sister is a narc." Dominik laughs as you explain. "Tio Rey wants me in, not to fight in the women's division but to just be someone on the sidelines to cause interference since I'm so rusty. And since my work schedule is pretty fuckin' flexible, I can swing it. There's just not a storyline that can be easily manipulated to bring in an unknown female."

"Well, whatever happens, I hope you get in," Rhea says. "We need more ladies."

"And look, uce, you can come to Raw with all the cool kids or I can hook you up with my brothers and cousins on Smackdown."

You laugh. "You guys are talking as if I'm for sure going to work in the WWE. It's all just talk right now."

"Well, if you still got that talent from when we were younger," Dominik says. "I'm sure we'll be seeing you on the sidelines soon."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up and finish eating."

As everyone finishes up eating, Damian and Rhea take it upon themselves to wash dishes and Dominik takes out the trash since he's on his way out to go get settled in at his hotel.

You walk with Dominik outside, leaning against your porch railing.

"You good, prima?" He asks. You nod, smiling softly. "I just wanna say thanks again for doing this for my friends."

"Don't even worry about it," you say. "I've been bored lately. It'll be nice to have some noise for a little bit."

"Yeah? Well, if you need anything, I'm only a phone call away. Rey too."

"I'll be fine, Dum-Dum. Rhea, Jey, and Damian seem really cool."

"Alright." Dominik gives you a hug. "I'll see you if I'm not busy working. You also have ringside tickets for Monday, so clear your schedule for that day."

"Thanks. Night, Dom."

"Night, YN."

Waking up the following morning, you stretch and quietly groan. For a moment you forget you have guests, but then a deep chuckle from the other side of your bed reminds you that not only do you have guests but that you have a guest in bed with you. You turn your head, spotting a sleepy Damian just waking up himself.

"Goddamn. This bed had no right being this comfortable."

You huff a laugh and roll onto your side, tucking an arm beneath your head. "I take it you slept well?"

"Yeah. It's been a while since I've slept in."

His words slowly make you realize that you've slept in too. "Shit. What time is it?" You sit up, patting the bed around you for your phone until you remember you placed it on the floating shelf connected to the wall above where you had slept. Turning, you snatch your phone and check the time. It's nine in the morning. "Fuckkk," you groan as you fall back against your pillows.

"What happened? You miss work or something?"

"Nah. Nothing like that." You take a moment to yawn. "I just have a routine, and I forgot to set my alarm," you tell him.

He hums in understanding. The two of you go quiet, sleep threatening to take you back under until you feel the bed at your feet shift and jostle. Opening your eyes, you find Rhea crawling into bed, burrowing under the blanket you're using.

"Oi. What are we talking about?"

You chuckle as Rhea snuggles down, hair mused and face clean of her usual dark makeup.

"Nothing. YN was just talking about how she missed her routine."

"What routine?"

"I run in the mornings," you admit. "Wake up at six, run two miles around the neighborhood to get the blood pumping, and then do whatever needs to be done whether it be work-work or house-work."

"What's on the agenda for today?"

"Not a damn thing. I cleared my schedule until the middle of next week," you say. "I'm free as a bird, so if you want to do something in town, I'm down. Or if you have errands to run or need to head to the arena to train, the Range Rover is yours to use while you're staying here."

Damian and Rhea are saying their thanks when Jey launches himself on the other side of you. You groan as the others laugh. "Damn, uce, this bed is huge. You can fit at least one other body in here."

Jey is apparently an affectionate person and has no issue sliding under your blanket as well. But while Rhea kept a few inches between you, Jey practically plasters his chest to your back and snuggles up to you with a content sigh.

You shake with suppressed laughter. "Comfortable, Uso?"

"Extremely. What's everyone doin' today?"

"Priest and I have a meeting with the higher ups," Rhea says. "After that, nothing."

"I'll be making use of the gym here to get the blood pumping," Jey says.

All three go quiet and you only speak when you feel Jey squeeze you around the waist. "Well while you guys are working, I'll be relaxing out back in the pool."

Time seems to freeze before,

"You got a pool?!"

"Yes?" You laugh.

"Alright, change of plans. I'm gonna work out and then float my ass in the pool out back. You got any floaties, uce?"

"Duh."

"Then yeah, we floatin'."

You grin sleepily. "You guys gonna be free for dinner?" At their confirmed status of being free, you say, "I'm feelin' steaks, jalapeño poppers, and roasted corn. Any objections?"

"Nope."

"No."

"Hell nah."

"This arrangement is proving to be better than staying at a hotel," Damian muses. "You sure we're not putting you out?"

"No way. I grew up with big family cookouts, random hangouts, and sleepovers and I miss it. When mom died, dad and I stopped going out as much. Dad's side of the family kind of wanted nothing to do with me when I wouldn't let his then girlfriend take control of the house I was buying, and while I kept in touch with my mom's side of the family, it just wasn't the same."

"Which side does Dom come from?" Rhea asks.

"Mom's." You smile sadly. "My mom and his mom were sisters."

"Family is everything," she says and you nod in agreement. "But blood does not define family. If the rest of your family won't recognize you, we will. You're stuck with us now."

As Rhea spoke, your eyes got a little teary. "Goddammit, Ripley. It's too early to be crying."

"I'm sorry." She laughs and reaches for your hand, squeezing it.

"Come on," Damian eventually groans, reaching over to nudge Rhea. "The sooner we get this meeting over with, the quicker we can get back to chill by the pool."

Rhea groans as she has to get out of bed and Damian immediately calls dibs on the bathroom upstairs as he scoots out of bed after her.

"And then there were two," Jey muses, brazenly pressing his face into the back of your neck as he holds you.

Chuckling, you free an arm from beneath the blanket and then gently slap him on the thigh. "Come on, Uso. Let's get sweaty."

"That's what I'm talking about!"

This time, you bark out a laugh. "Down, boy. We're just going for a run to get that blood of yours pumping before you hit up the mini gym."

"Not what I had in mind, but I'm down."

Since Damian's occupying the upstairs bathroom, you grab an extra toothbrush and toothpaste from your hall closet and head towards the downstairs bathroom where Rhea is. Knocking on the door, you wait until you hear her call out.

"Yeah?"

"Is it cool if I brush my teeth in there? I promise I won't sneak any looks!"

Rhea laughs. "Sure thing, babe. Door's unlocked!"

Your shower stalls have glass doors, so you keep your gaze averted. Fortunately, Rhea likes a steamy shower so even if you had glanced in her direction, all you would see is the outline of her body.

"Didn't want to sneak any looks at Damian?" She muses.

You laugh as you wet your toothbrush and apply some toothpaste. "I still think of that man as walking, talking, kink material-" Rhea barks out a laugh, "-but now that I've met him, he gives off major big brother energy. I do not want to see the peen. Well, I kind of do, but I'm intimidated."

"Oh my god. I'm gonna love hanging out with you this week."

You make quick work of brushing your teeth and washing your face, and then tell Rhea where to find the keys to the Range Rover in case you and Jey leave before her and Damian are ready.

Back up in your room, you get dressed in your workout gear- a cropped dark tank top made out of spandex material and a pair of black and white running shorts. You put on your running shoes, tie your hair up into a ponytail, then grab the strap that your phone zips into before securing it around your bicep.

You run into Damian on your way downstairs, telling him what you told Rhea about where to find the keys to the Range Rover and not to bother locking up if you and Jey are gone before he and Rhea leave. He thanks you for letting them use your vehicle and you head outside into the backyard, stretching in the little spot that you've sectioned off for yoga sessions.

Jey is outside as well, taking a picture of the pool where he's apparently set loose some pool floats and rearranged the chairs off to the side. You shake your head at him in amusement, twisting your body into the runner's lunge twist.

As you're holding the pose, stretching your muscles, you hear, "Look up, sweetheart. Let me see that smile." Instead of just smiling, however, you flip him off. Jey laughs, snapping the pic. "Is it cool if I post that?"

"That's fine."

As Jey does a few of his own stretches, he's messing with his phone. He's smiling the entire time and when he puts his phone away, you finish up your stretching and check his socials to see what he posted and/or said.

It doesn't take you long to find the post on Instagram, a post of two pics. The first is your pool looking rather inviting and the next pic is of you flipping him off. The caption reads, Can't wait to go for a swim, but first I need to get the blood pumping with this peach of a lady and an added kissy face emoji.

"You're ridiculous," you call out and he laughs.

"You see it?"

"Yes." In response to his post, you leave a comment with the middle finger emoji and two blue hearts. "Now come on, Uso. Time to run."

You and Jey round the side of the house just as Rhea and Damian walk down the porch stairs. You tell Damian that the address to your house is already programmed into the GPS should he need it on the way back and he nods, tossing and catching the key fob in his hand. You and Jey then stand side by side on the sidewalk, and after making sure he's ready, you set off at a leisurely pace.

As you round the street corner, you speed up a little more. Jey keeps pace and the only sound for a good while is your feet pounding against the pavement. Several minutes into your run, however, you notice Jey lagging behind. And when you glance over your shoulder to see if he's fine, you see him with his phone out again.

Not wanting to speak and expend your breath, you continue running. Jey follows you, keeping pace once more, and then urging you faster on the way back to your house.

By the time you make it back to your kitchen, you're panting and leaning against the kitchen island. "I'm never running with you again."

"Aw, come on, girl. That was fun."

"For you! What were you doing with your phone out anyway?"

Before he can answer, his phone starts ringing. He glances at it, then at you. "It's Jimmy. Do you mind?"

"Go ahead."

Jey answers what ends up being a Facetime call and you walk around your kitchen, grabbing yourself a glass of water as they talk.

"Ay, uce, you good?" Jey asks.

"Yeah, but not as good as you apparently. Where the hell you at that you have access to a pool?"

You're mid-sip, grinning against the rim of your glass when Jey points his phone at you. "Mysterio's cuz came through. Say hi." You awkwardly wave at the camera as you hear Jimmy laugh and hear him call out his own hello. Then Jey continues the talk. "So how's the hotel?"

"Boring. We either hang out in our rooms or at the arena. Nothing fancy or fun."

Quickly finding a pen and pad of paper, you jot something down and then slide it over to Jey- Invite him over. Pool's big enough and dinner is on me.

"Ay, uce, who's with you right now?" Jey asks after reading your note.

"Just Solo and Roman. Why?"

Jey glances at you and you nod. "You guys wanna come over? Pool's big enough and YN is grilling steaks tonight for us here."

"Shit. Forreal?"

"Yeah." You call out when Jey looks at you once more. "I just need a headcount so I can go grab the steaks and corn from the store here in a bit. Damian and Rhea are currently at the arena in one of my vehicles, so I'm sure they can swing by and pick you up if you guys need a ride."

"No worries, we got our own ride. We just need an address."

"I'll have Jey send it to you. Are all three of you coming?"

"Sure thing, ma."

Jey talks to his brother for another minute before ending the call, opening up his texts and handing you the phone so you can enter your address. You do so and then after downing your water, you tell Jey you're going to shower before heading out to the store. Jey tells you he'll tag along and to not leave without him.

. . . .

Later, when you're done shopping and preparing the backyard for guests, you smile wide when you spot your cousin walking in with a case of beer and a holler that the party has arrived. Behind him, Jimmy Uso, Solo Sikoa, and Roman Reigns enter.

You greet everyone with a smile and hug (if they offered), then proceed to show them where both bathrooms are and the room that Jey is staying in so they can change into their swim trunks wherever they're most comfortable. Then before you go back outside, you take a moment to change into your own two piece bathing suit that consists of a dark green v-neck top that pulls down over your head like a sports bra and dark green high waisted bottoms that have cutouts along your hips. And since you're not jumping into the water right away, you pull on a loose, white button down shirt with its sleeves rolled up to your elbows and tuck the front hem of the shirt into a pair of cutoff denim shorts.

As you head back out, you pass Damian and Rhea in the kitchen, cutting jalapeños in half and scooping out the seeds so they can put cream cheese in them before wrapping them in bacon.

Dominik is outside, looking everything over before meeting your gaze with a smile. "You're loving this, aren't you?"

"I miss hanging out," you admit with a chuckle. "And hosting isn't so bad when all the men are handsome as fuck."

He shakes his head in amusement. "You opening up the hot tub?"

"Should I?" You frown.

"Yes, estúpida. I can guarantee that'll be the hangout spot after dinner."

"Well go get it set up," you tell him.

As Dominik preps the hot tub, you make sure the outside bar is all stocked up. The beer Dominik brought and the beer Jey suggested you buy earlier is in the cooler, the freezer is filled with ice, your blender is clean and ready for margaritas, and there's a whole stash of alcohol in case anyone wants anything stronger.

You're connecting a laptop to the outside speakers when Damian pops up. "Hey, hermosa, the poppers are sitting in the fridge for when you're ready for them. Do you need anything else done?"

"No, sir. You and Rhea are guests. Go change and lounge. I can do the rest."

"Are you sure?"

You smile at him. "Positive. Enjoy your time off, Priest."

"Alright. But hurry up. You deserve to have some fun too before you start cooking."

After shooing Damian off, you head inside to quickly peel some potatoes. Four shirtless Samoans finally walk out from Jey's room, and you have to shoo Jey out when he tries to help out in the kitchen.

"I'm good," you say, swatting at his hands when he tries to grab the potato peeler from the counter. "Go have fun."

"But-"

"No buts!" His jaw snaps shut and you arch an eyebrow at him, silently challenging him to do something about it. Hearing a snicker, you glance at his grinning twin Jimmy and younger brother Solo. "Can y'all please go throw his ass in the pool? Not only did this fool have the audacity to jump into my bed this morning-"

"Rhea was in there too! I thought it was a group thing!"

"-but he snapped pics of my ass on our run this morning."

"You saw those?"

You glare at him, but end up laughing when his brothers look offended on your behalf. "I follow you on Instagram. Of course I saw them! You're just lucky my account is private. Your fans already stalked the hell out of my pages and tried adding me." And before Jey can say anything to defend himself, there's a small scuffle as Jimmy and Solo grapple with their brother before pushing him out the door.

You and Roman follow, laughing and then whooping when Jey gets tossed into the pool. Roman lingers and when you glance up at him, he asks, "You sure you don't need any help?"

"Positive. Go have fun, Reigns. And if you want, the laptop at the bar controls the music. I'm not sure what you like listening to, so have fun making a playlist if you want."

"Will do."

You get back to work in the kitchen, but it doesn't take you long to finish up. There's still a couple of hours before you have to get to work, so you head outside to see what everyone's up to. Rhea and Dominik are laid out on the lounges next to the pool, conversing with each other and with Damian and Roman who are inside the pool but hanging onto the ledge near them. Jey, Jimmy, and Solo are not too far, the three brothers splayed out casually on pool floats.

Taking a moment for yourself, you head to the bar and immediately work on a pitcher of margaritas. Rhea hollers that she wants one and you give her a thumbs up to let her know you heard her loud and clear. On reflex, you dig your phone out of your pocket and leave it on the bar so there's no electronic casualties as you walk by the pool's ledge. Then salting the rim of two margarita glasses, you fill them with the slushie goodness and walk yourself over to where Rhea is just sitting up.

"Thanks, mate." She sips her margarita, humming, and you do the same.

You had only taken your eyes off the pool's occupants for a minute that you don't notice one in particular is missing. When you clock Jimmy and Solo staring at you though, your gaze darts around for Jey. Their smirks grow and you tense up. But before you can question where the troublesome individual is, wet arms come down around you from behind. You yelp and a deep chuckle sounds next to your ear.

"You thought you could get away with siccin' my brothers on me, didn't you? My own blood? Nope. Not today, baby girl."

"Jey…" He starts walking towards the pool and you do your best to push back. Unfortunately, he's stronger. "Jey, I have a drink in my hand!"

"Not anymore." Jey had stopped right at the pool's ledge, right where Roman and Damian were, when the margarita is pulled from your hand. You stare down in shock at Damian who's now sipping it.

"You traitor! I'm giving you the shittiest blanket tonight, Priest!"

He shrugs, grinning. "I'll just steal yours."

Everyone starts chanting to toss you in and your toes curl over the pool's ledge as if that'll keep you from going in. "Jey, if you toss me in, I'll-"

"You'll what?"

You know there's no getting out of this predicament, so you reach back and grip onto the sides of Jey's shorts. "I'm taking you with me."

"Wh-" Before he can get the word out, you fall forward and take Jey back into the water with you.

All his weight falls on top of you as you go under water, but it's not as bad as apparently everyone thinks it is. When you resurface, wiping water from your eyes, you're surprised to see everyone looking quite freaked out. Even Jey looks worried, but you merely laugh in return.

"You good, uce?" Jimmy calls out. "That was a whole lot of fat falling on top of you."

You snort as Jey gasps in offense. "I'm good, Jimmy."

You tread water like a foot away from Jey and start stripping off your shirt and shorts while you grumble. You toss them onto the side of the pool, rolling your eyes when Rhea wiggles her eyebrows at you. Jey looks you up and down, even going as far to dip under the water. When he resurfaces, smirking, you swat the back of his head and end up treading water with him and his brothers for a bit.

Eventually, you all end up hanging out around the ledge and in front of the pool lounges where Damian and Solo have swapped out with Rhea and Dominik. Jimmy is the most vocal about getting to know you, especially when he spots you hanging onto his brother's back with Jey's hands supporting you under your thighs as you talk with everyone. He's never seen his twin so comfortable with someone he's just met like this.

No one bats an eye at your stripper past, hell Roman even cracks a joke about taking up stripping if wrestling ever falls through, and then Dominik happily informs them that you're actually quite the little wrestler yourself. You keep it humble though, telling everyone that you're very out of shape and rusty in the ring, and you're like eighty percent sure nothing will come of Rey's thoughts.

They all try to hype you up into seriously thinking about it if wrestling is something you love, but you brush it all off and tell Dominik to help you bring out the steaks from inside.

After drying off, you get the grill going and then put on an apron over your bathing suit. You get the seasoned steaks going on one side of the grill while Dominik fills the other side with corn on the cob that's been smothered in butter and wrapped in foil, as well as the jalapeño poppers. Then while that's cooking, you quickly head inside to dice up the peeled potatoes before dropping them into a pot of water so they can boil.

You and Dominik remain by the grill to make sure nothing overcooks. Then when you have to head back inside, he keeps watch while you mash the potatoes and make a small pot of brown gravy.

When the food gets taken inside, you set everything out on the kitchen island before calling everyone in. They all flood in with towels wrapped around their waists, and none of the men will serve themselves until you and Rhea have made up your plates first. So while you and Rhea take a seat at the table with full plates, you both watch in amusement as they moan and groan about the smell, practically salivating when they take their own seats with their own plates of food.

Dinner ended up being quite the affair, and you were very glad that you had cooked up more steaks than Jey deemed necessary. Apparently his brothers and cousin could really chow down.

Then after dinner and deciding to let the dishwasher get a workout, everyone takes a moment to let their food settle in their stomachs before heading back outside. Instead of the pool, however, they sink into the hot tub.

Drinks are passed around again and the last thing you remember is laughing uncontrollably with this group of people before everything goes dark.

When you wake up, you have a throbbing headache. But not only that, your mouth feels extremely gross, and you want nothing more than to brush your teeth and eat a mountain of breakfast foods. You take a moment to just lay there and wait for the room to stop spinning, and when it does do you take notice of the weight across your stomach. Slowly, you glance to your right and find Jey sleeping peacefully with his arm draped across you. But for some reason, the bed feels like there's more of a presence in it, and when you glance to your left you can't help but smile.

Next to you and under his own blanket is Jimmy, and then on his other side are Rhea and Damian who are sharing a blanket of their own. You're not sure how you all ended up here, but you carefully extricate yourself from the bed to get some answers. You're still in your bikini and you have a feeling everyone else is still in their swimsuits as well, so you know you're gonna have to do laundry so your bedding doesn't smell like chlorine.

After grabbing a pair of baggy sweatpants, a sports bra, and a pair of socks, you take the quickest shower you've ever taken to get the pool smell off of you and brush your teeth. You wring out as much water as you can from your hair, run a towel through it to soak up some more, and then run your fingers through the strands before tying it up in a messy bun just to keep it all off your neck.

As you pad downstairs and into your kitchen, you find Solo and Roman looking through the cabinets. You take a moment to watch them, grinning when you hear Solo quietly moan about wanting coffee, but not knowing where anything is.

"Two cabinets to your left." Solo jerks in surprise and you grin, walking to the cabinet yourself to grab the coffee grounds. You grab the grounds and filters, handing them off to Solo. "Not that I'm mad about it, but what the hell are you guys doing here?"

Roman's chuckle makes you turn around to face him. "You don't remember?"

"Unfortunately, no. I remember a lot of laughing in the hot tub and then sleeping." You squint your eyes a little, flashes of the night coming back. "Was there dancing?"

Solo snorts as he prepares a pot of coffee. "Do not check your Instagram."

"Aww, man. Who gave me the hard stuff to drink?"

"Your cousin."

"Dominik said you're very family orientated and that you needed last night," Roman says. "Rhea kept you supplied with margaritas, Jey and Jimmy took over the music and there was a dancing competition, your cousin decided shots was a good idea, then you got affectionate like a cat on Jey's lap-" you wince in embarrassment, "-and once the weepiness set in, Dom cut you off."

"And where is my idiot cousin?"

"Back at the hotel. He didn't drink like everyone else did. Solo, Jimmy, and I were capable of driving, but no one wanted to risk it with Smackdown in a couple of days."

"Jey jumped at the chance to bunk with you and Damian, and then Rhea volunteered as well. Jimmy, Roman, and I drew straws, and the shortest one had to bunk in your bed with everyone."

You giggle. "Poor Jimmy."

Solo grins. "He wasn't too mad about it though. He got to slip between you and Rhea."

"But Jey was quick to drag you all the way to the wall to keep Jimmy away from you," Roman muses.

You chuckle, reaching up to rub at your temple as you close your eyes. "Shit, guys. I just met you last night and already I made a terrible first impression."

"Nah, you're good," Roman assures you. "You don't know how bad we needed last night. It's been a while since we were able to unwind and last night was-"

"Exactly what we needed," Solo finishes.

"And besides, it's not everyday we meet a fan that's able to still be normal around us."

You freeze. "Why do you say I'm a fan?"

Roman slowly grins. "Well besides the fact that you have family in the biz, you also spent some time last night doing Ripley's entrance alongside her."

"Oh my god."

"Instagram," Solo says. "Don't check it."

"I hate you guys."

The two men chuckle and your stomach grumbling puts you in motion to make something to eat. Roman helps, pulling out some frozen hash that's in the freezer. He gets that going just as you throw some sausage links into another pan, and then Solo takes over making a huge pan of eggs.

Just as you're setting a plate of toast onto the table, Jimmy comes down. He doesn't say anything, but does grab himself a plate and load it up.

The four of you are quiet as you eat, exhaustion still lingering in everyone.

It isn't until Solo takes it upon himself to clear the table do you realize Jimmy and Roman are staring at you. You squint your eyes at them, then at Solo when he reclaims his seat. "What-"

"What are your intentions with Jey?" Jimmy asks.

You snort, grinning. "What?" Roman chuckles and you glance between the three Samoans. "Is this- is this a shovel talk?"

Jimmy shrugs. "It's not every day that Jey shows genuine interest in someone. We just wanna know where you stand."

Upon realizing just how serious these three are, your smile slowly fades. "I like him. I do," you admit. "It's very rare I connect with someone like I did with Jey…" You trail off.

"But-" Jimmy urges.

"But I literally met him like a day and a half ago! And besides, Jey's life is on the road," you tell them. "Being flirty and affectionate is all that I'm able to give him because if I give more…" You sigh sadly. "If I give more, it's inevitable that feelings will develop on my end, and I won't do that to myself." You pause, letting your words sink in. Your gaze falls to the table and your voice lowers. "As cheesy as it sounds, Jey is my definition of right guy, wrong time."

An arm is slung around your shoulders and then you're pulled into Jimmy's side. "Look at this way, sis. If your unc gets you in, you'll be traveling on the road with us and you can be disgustingly cute with my brother all you want."

"Shut up." You nudge him with your elbow. "Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I need to sweat out all this alcohol in my system. I'll be in my baby gym while you do whatever you guys wanna do."

Roman starts to stand. "We need to get to the arena and train. Is it cool if we come back later?"

"That's fine. Like I told everyone else, I'm not working until next week. My house is your house."

"Thank you."

As Roman and Jimmy head off to the bathrooms before leaving, Solo surprises you by lingering behind. You smile at him, letting him say whatever's on his mind.

"For what it's worth, I really hope your uncle's serious about getting you into the business. I think my brother really likes you."

"Aw, Solo," you coo. He shakes his head in amusement as you lean in to hug him. "Outside of the ring, you're a good guy. But inside the ring, I'm sad to say that Roman is still my Tribal Chief."

Solo barks out a laugh. As he pulls out of the hug, he asks, "What are you doing Friday night?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"Roman and I are gonna have a face to face in the ring. You think you can crack his facade if I get you ringside?"

"Solo," you slowly smirk, "it'll be my genuine pleasure."

End Note: Alright, this was bad. I admit that. But I'm slightly obsessed with these characters. Why are they so handsome?

Spanish translations: Prima/Primo - Cousin. Mi amor - My love. Pendenja - Stupid girl. Estúpida - feminine version for stupid. Hermosa - Beautiful.

[simp-ly-writes]

Love and Zombies

─────── · · A Smosh FanFic

Pairing: Spencer "Brody" Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Amanda has called in sick on the first day of filming a new series for the Smosh Games channel, Dread. You create a hopeless romantic character, their ultimate goal? to find love (and to make sure others find it too ;)).

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, enemies to lovers, protectiveness, jealousy, angst, tension, fluff, light swearing, mutual pining, confessions, friends to lovers, cheesy, social media au (near the end).

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,641 | PART TWO

─ · · A/N: Something a bit different but I hope you all enjoy nonetheless! (y/c/n) = your characters name.

─────── · ·

When you got pulled from the marketing office only to be placed in a Smosh Games video you did not know what to expect. Lights and Cameras commanding down upon you as you took a seat beside Spencer and across from Courtney and Shayne while thinking about what could be read from the seating placement had your cheeks heating up as you whispered a Hello, not wanting to interfere with the sound peoples tests.

Shayne talked back in a full toned, "Hello!" that already have you feeling more embarrassed for not knowing what exactly to do on camera even when they were not rolling. "Got your character chosen?" Courtney asked as Spencer nodded his head, curious as to your answer only for your eyes to go wide with excitement.

"Yes, I do. But I want to see your reactions to them recorded," you tease just as Alex Tran calls for you all to take your positions and another person walks around to the head of the table, the game master themselves- George Primavera. You latch onto Spencer hand under the table, squeezing it in excitement, not having seen the rest of the casting call for your favorite dungeon master.

"And three... two... one... action!"

"Hello everyone, and welcome to Smosh verses Zombies. I George Primavera and I will be your Dungeon Master and Host for this session. Now can the players please introduce themselves to the camera," George announces taking the time to look over all of you as you all physically fall into character.

Shayne as Benardo, the nepo-baby artist. Courtney as Savanah, the bestie that always has your back. Spencer as Brody, the hater of everything and everyone with a secret. And your character, (y/c/n), the truly hopeless, romantic.

"You are never gonna find love," Spencer spits out, immediately turning to you, chest puffed out as he stares just past your face. You make the first eye-contact before looking down at the table, brows furrowed and let out a sigh, "Well, if you speak of it like that way. It will be you who will never be finding love, Brody." You spit out his name, refusing to look him in the eyes before offering Shayne a flirty smile and giggle, "now, Who are you?"

Spencer scoffs from your side, mumbling some snide remarks while glaring at Shayne who flips him off. "I'm an artist, looking for a muse, if you catch my drift?" He adds with a wink as you fan your face and bat your eyelashes. You can image the paint dripping off his True Religion jeans and white t-shirt. "I like the sound of that."

"You two are going to die first," Spencer states with his arms crossed. "Is that jealousy I hear?" you slowly pan your head over, taking in his features as you play with the rings on your fingers.

"Fuck no, thats gross," he retorts before Courtney interrupts, "I stand with (y/c/n), theres not much out here so might as well find someone to love and keep you entertained." Spencer looks visibly pained by this statement as he refuses to speak and the game proceeds to start.

─────── · ·

As bricks are being pulled one by one and with some near death experiences. You and Shayne are both going steady with a relationship, flirting, reaching across the table to hold hands and fighting back to back alongside one another. Courtney had acting the middle ground between you and Spencer throughout the game while Spencer's character was reaching his breaking point. George had been eating up the tension between the two of you, both still haven't looked at one another since the introductions, and he was scheming for a reaction.

"Will you two stop fucking in the back of my truck, fucking hell," Brody yells while gripping the steering wheel. Savanah is in the passengers seat, snickering and laughing at the scene.

"Do you want to join then?" Bernardo yells back in the small space just before the vehicle is stopped and you all lean quickly forwards in back in your chairs. You grip the table, shaking before moving to a stand and point at Brody.

"You know what, Brody-" you spit out his name with such vice, looking at him through his glasses and into his eyes. Deep down you can see Spencer smiling and begging you to go on and seize this moment, he loves watching you act so confidently in front of him- the cameras long forgotten. "-I am so done with you and- and your hate. If you don't want to be happy in life then so be it. But stop casting your grumpy old, stinky cloud all over me and Benardo-"

Spencer gags at the mention of his name in relation to yours before he two stands. George, the game master claps his hands excitedly from behind you, eyeing the tower with a knowing look. "-and you know what, if I was the owner of a car, I would have long since forgotten about you, have left you in the dust to die alone just like you want!"

Brody blinks at you before taking to a stand, his hands shake as Savanah and Benardo both lean closer. Benardo opens his mouth to make a statement before Courtney has a hand clapped over Shaynes mouth, glaring at him- daring him to interrupt this moment as you and Spencer now stand chest to chest. You both get a sudden wave a deja vu and to what... you both don't address before taking your seats once more.

"Wow..." George claps, smiling at you both as you stare at one another in a silent conversation. "...Now since you both have made no progress one again, the zombie hoard has made the distance and is about to attack you all, I am going to have to ask you to either pull or sacrifice-"

"I'll sacrifice!" Benardo announces. Hands placed on the table as he jets up, looking at you with pure adoration. "I will sacrifice for the love of my life."

"Benardo..." you let out a breath, partially of relief the other of a realization sadness as you shake you head. "Y-you don't have to do this you know, I'm sure theres another way. We could drive faster, we could-"

"There is no other way," Spencer announces, leaving no room for argument in his tone as both men nod to one another. Benardo takes one last look at you, blowing you a kiss that you catch and place on your heart before Shayne acts like he is getting electrocuted and falls to the ground beneath the table.

"You all stand there in grief, horror, and in partial awe so I am still going to have to ask you all to pull yourselves back into the truck," George says as you well your eyes with tears and make the first clean pull and move into the passengers side. Savanah goes next and succeeds, now sitting at the back of the truck. Brody is the last to pull.

You watch the side of his face not wanting to lose another... friend and having wanted to understand the weird tension and bring it finally to an end. Brody succeeds as you all drive to safety.

─────── · ·

You character and Brody would carry that awkward tension, the thin line between hate and love as you bantered and pointed guns in one another faces before shooting a zombie behind the other. You were surprised to learn the vicious protectiveness of Brody's character to yours often throwing Savanah out as bait to save you and she too was now getting sick of being the constant middle man.

Savanah called you out. "Its either you admit to your feelings to one another now, or I am going to announce to everyone the things you have said behind one another's backs. Grow up you two, its making all of this a lot harder than it should be. I mean, I think even Benardo saw it and agreed."

You could hear a few gasps from off camera that reminded you of the set you were playing in, the character you were playing as and the lights and cameras felt way too imposing once more and you shrunk down into your seat. An unknown guilt crept its way through your shaking hands as Spencer turned to you, grabbing one suddenly before letting out a large sigh and soon all of the background noise faded into the back of your mind.

You could not tell if Spencer was Brody, or Brody was Spencer in that moment as he spoke out- admitting to his jealous and distance to your past partners and the true feelings he held for you. Only finding them when your life was on the line, zombies banging on the door of the shelter you all thought to have found, that he loved you- he loves you.

And in not finding the right words to say right away, you pulled Brody- Spencer into a hug and whispered into his ear, unsure and uncaring if the mics would pick it up as well, I love you too.

─────── · ·

"CUT! Amazing work everyone. Thats an official wrap on episodes one and two. After lunch we will be filming the finale, so be sure to take a rest and plan those skits," Alex yelled as the house lights came back on, your eyes blinking out of character as your arms fell from one another and back down to your sides.

You and Spencer both watched as everyone gradually flooded out of the room. Courtney and Shayne both passing you a smile before turning down the hall. "You are one hell of an actor," Spencer starts with in a teasing tone that you match, "I could say the same to you as well."

─────── · ·

🔔 Smosh Games just posted! watch now?

─────── · ·

Jenga Decides Our Fate | Smosh vs. Zombies (ep.1+2)

Smosh Games ✓ [Subscribed] Like 56k | Dislike | ... 7.77M subscribers 1.1M views 3 months ago will we be able to survive?? click to read more

3,139 Comments

username21 YOU CANNOT JUST LEAVE THINGS LIKE THAT. I REFUSE TO WAIT ANOTHER WEEK 😭

username99 Did (name) say it back? Did. (name). say. it. back. I NEED to know!!

↳ username41 the public needs to know! we will revolt in these comments! we have done it before! 😡

username28 (name) and Spencer looked so taken by one another during their rant scenes. It was pure poetry, I love smosh!

username11 i genuinely cannot tell if they were acting or not.

username21 so worth the wait for the new content! can't wait for the new episode, I hope that Shayne is not dead for good, maybe he can come back in a new character?

↳ username07 yes! in love with this idea. I really like Savanah (courtney's character) would also like this idea XD ↳ username21 ikr! they looked so done with Brody and (y/c/n) lol

username12 that hug healed me ❤️

username30 someone reawaken be when pt.3 comes out, i refuse to live in a world where (name) and Spencer are not both canonically and irl together

username44 In love with this video concept. what about an alien invasion next time??

↳ smoshgames ✓ great idea! ↳ username44 omg! Smosh Games just replied to me ↳ smoshgames ✓ and we'll do it again 😉 ↳ username44 i can die happy now.

username23 shayne and courtney played so good characters. i was so incredibly invested in shayne and (name)'s romantic arch.

username40 must have been weird for courtney to see her husband flirting with another person... /sarcastic (i know they are all friends and that this is their job).

username76 would love to see Ian in the next series. his dark humour would hit differently. ❤️

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: you all are so cool, thank you for reading this! 😊

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1

[russellsppttemplates]

I'll never give up on you (Franco Colapinto)

You think your age is an obstacle, but Franco is set on proving you otherwise

Note: english is not my first language. It's the big doe eyes, the curly hair and the fact that he's very funny, isn't it? It's a very crappy situation for everyone how they got here, everyone recognises that. This is also the first time I'm writing for him 🤍 I always feel and know I have to put this - for those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is slightly older than Franco (three years), alludes to previous bad relationships, alcohol consumption, relationship insecurity, reader gets accidentally hurt

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

"You look gorgeous, Y/N! I love love love this!", Olivia squealed, clapping her hands when she got to your bedroom.

"It's nothing special", you blushed at her compliments.

"It will catch some eyes, you will catch some eyes!", she smiled, "can you help me with my dress, please?", she turned around so you could zip her up.

You and your bestfriend Olivia shared an apartment in university, and once you entered into the job market, you quickly realised that it would be best to keep the same living situation, knowing you'd save some money in a beginner salary and you both felt comfortable about eachother. Her boyfriend Mark had just got a work promotion and he wanted to celebrate it with his friends, so you had been invited.

"Who else is going to be there?", you mused as you packed the essentials on your small purse.

"Some guys from the new department he's in now, Luke - the one we met a couple of weeks ago at the shops -", she began listing the names she recalled, "Amber, and Franco, I think - he doesn't have a race this week", Olivia said.

"Oh, okay", you smiled.

Franco Colapinto knew Mark from one of the teams he had driven for, and despite his career, he was an incredibly down to earth guy. You had met him in a few other occasions and he was funny, kind, always up for a challenge and not easy to persuade out of things. "Things" including flirting with you. At first, you thought it was just his nature and posture towards new people, but after realising he only acted like that towards you, and the fact that he kept making advances and going as far as talking to Olivia about it, you knew it was something else.

"You still haven't changed your mind about him? He's such a good match for you, Y/N/N", Olivia pouted.

The premise was simple - Franco was younger than you, and as much as he seemed interested, it would never lead to anything good. He was young, aspiring an amazing career you were sure he would achieve, and frankly, you couldn't see you in there. He would like to party all out, not have responsibilities and certainly not have to date someone older than him. And this was just at the top of your head - if you let your insecurities really work you up, there were many other reasons.

"We are not! If we did date, it wouldn't last long and I'm not up for that - I've learned my lesson", you tsked.

"You know he's very into you, I'm not sure you can get him to back down", Olivia advised, "I get that you have your walls, but maybe you could give him a chance?".

"He'll probably find someone else, if he hasn't already - now let's go!", you pulled her with you, not wanting to arrive late.

Once you were inside, you quickly spotted the group, greeting everyone and ordering some drinks.

"You're sure you don't want anything else?", Mark wondered.

"I don't feel like drinking anything strong today, but I'll toast to your promotion - congratulations again!", you hugged him.

"Careful, everyone!", you heard the argentinian accent call out, getting you to make room on the table so the bartender could set the tray with all the drinks, "Hello, Y/N, how are you?".

Turning to face Franco, you were instantly met with his bright smile, shiny eyes and wavy hair perfectly tousled, "Hi, I've been good, and you?".

"Even better now that you're here", he winked, "you look amazing by the way, that colour looks beautiful on you", he complimented.

Hoping the dim lighting hid your blushing cheeks you nodded, taking the coaster to our your drink on before looking at him, "thanks, it's not new or anything", you brushed him off.

The night was on a good roll until you came back from freshening up in the bathroom - just as you were about to sit on the high stool, a guy pushed his friend in a playful manner, only for him to accidentally hit you and making you hit your knee on the piece of furniture.

"Fuck", you mumbled, bracing yourself against the table as the sharp pain climbed up your leg no matter how much your hand tried to soothe it.

Before you could process the whole thing, a large hand was placed low on your back, "are you okay, Y/N? What happened?".

"It was us, I'm so sorry", one of the guys apologised as he carried his friend to their table, "do you want me to get something? Again, I'm so sorry".

"It's fine, I've got her", Franco dismissed them before looking at you again, "are you okay?", he asked worriedly.

"Of course", you attempted to speak firmly even though you were sure your face said it all. Your mother always told you you weren't a great liar.

Franco didn't seem to be convinced either, and ignoring your words, he bent down to check your knee, "you should sit so it doesn't swell up, and ice it too", he stated, tapping his shoulders for you to support your weight in them and help hoist you up on the stool.

"I'll go get some ice", Olivia offered.

As she excused herself, Franco gingerly touched your knee, fearing that he would hurt you even more, "is this fine?".

"It's not terrible, but it's hurting, like, it's a pulsation", you winced as he squeezed.

"I'm sorry, Y/N", Franco apologised, "just needed to check that it's not broken".

"You don't need to stay here, Olivia is coming back already", you added, watching the rest of the guys back on the pool table after you assured you were fine all things considered.

"You're the only one I care about, the rest can wait", Franco spoke.

"Look at that group over there", you pointed with your eyes, "wouldn't you prefer to hang out with them?".

The balloons let you know it was one of the girl's 20th birthday, and judging by the way they were looking in your direction, they noticed you too. Or Franco, you assumed.

"I've told you, I don't care about them, now where is the ice?", he muttered, looking around in hopes of spotting your friend in the darkened room.

"She's coming back", you pointed out.

The ice pack seemed to help relieve the pain and perhaps help with the bruising you were sure was going to take over your knee, "Franco, you can go be with the guys, I'll be fine", you reassured him again, "or be with the girls over there, they're very keen on you", you nudged.

Franco looked up at you, his gaze intense and serious, "those girls don't interest me", he replied, "you're the only one I care about".

There it was again.

"Don't say that", you tried to push it away before it dwelled on, "they're all very pretty, your age I'm sure".

Franco smiled softly as his eyes remained fixated on you, "who I pay attention to is you, you're the one I've always paid attention to", he spoke, not caring about the fact that Olivia was right there as she seemed distracted, "I don't care about their age or what they do. They're not you, and I want to be with you, so I'll stay here with you", he stated.

You heart took a lep, and even though you wished you could say something rational, something that made sense, the way he was looking into your eyes didn't let you. There was honesty and sincerity that never seemed to fail and that you could never ignore.

"Let me help you", Franco spoke softly, "right now, you're the only thing worrying me".

Hesitating, you allowed him to adjust the ice pack and keep talking to you about random stuff to take your mind away from the state of your knee, and for the first time in a while, it felt good to let someone else take care of you.

.

"Do you really think that we won't workout because of our age difference?", Franco spoke.

Mark and Olivia went to get coffee for all of you and left you and Franco on the picnic blanket to save the spot and keep your belongings safe. The plan for the afternoon was to enjoy the sun outside and while you were sure your bestfriend had something to do with this whole arrangement, you decided to let it slip and focus on relaxing for the afternoon.

"What?", you mused.

"You always point out that you're older than me, and whenever I make any advances, which I assume you're not too blind about, you never say yes, but don't say no either", he offered, "is it an obstacle?".

"We're good, aren't we?", you spoke.

"We could be better", Franco spoke and he supported his torso on his hands on his sides, "do you know how much I care about you?".

"We're friends", you replied.

"And you're telling me we couldn't be more?", Franco wondered.

"You have so many things to do still, I can't imagine you'd want to be tied to a 24 year old with a job and mundane responsibilities", you chuckled.

"Is that what it is? Do you really think our age difference is an obstacle?", he spoke softly.

"I can't say with such certainty", you mumbled.

"Can I keep on showing you that it isn't?", Franco spoke.

"I'm very stubborn", you recalled, "and I don't want you to waste your time".

"I'm not going to pressure you, but I'm not going to stop trying to show you how much you mean to me - you're very important in my life, Y/N".

.

"Did you salt the water already?", Franco asked as he grabbed the pasta from the cupboard.

"I did", you told him as you chopped the peppers and onions to add to the sizzling pan.

Franco happened to be around the area for lunch, and after he saw your story about being on your own, playfully claiming that Olivia had abandoned you, he offered to keep you company. Taking Olivia's advice that you should give him a chance and explore what you felt for eachother, you invited him over for lunch.

"Can I ask you something?", Franco asked as he dried his hands on the kitchen towell, throwing it to you so you could do the same.

"Now I'm worried...", you joked, "but sure, go ahead".

The smell of garlic browning in the pan filled the kitchen as you added the rest of the veggies, and you could feel the driver's eyes watching you. Up until now, the atmosphere was light, but there was an unspoken tension at the prospect of the question.

Franco couldn’t take it anymore. He was spending time with you whenever he could, getting closer little by little, but he felt there was a wall. A wall that you held strong, despite your shared glances and conversations that often stretched into the night.

“Why…”, he paused for a second, as if he was choosing his words carefully, “why do you keep pushing me away?”.

You stopped stirring the pan, slowly setting down the spoon aside and turned to face him.

“What are you talking about?”, you asked even though you knew exactly what he meant.

Franco turned fully to face you, his eyes fixed on yours, “You know what I’m talking about,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, "I’ve been trying to… get closer to you. You know how I feel about you, but every time I take a step toward you, you back away. There’s something you’re not saying, and I want to understand why, and if it's the age thing...", Franco let it out.

You sighed, fiddling with your hands as you gathered your thoughts.

“It’s not simple", you murmured, looking down at your feet.

"Then explain it to me", Franco's voice was calm, but insistent, "because from my side, it seems very simple. I like you. You like me, or at the very least you don't seem to hate me and…”, he hesitated, leaning a little closer, "whatever is stopping you… I can deal with it, we can talk about it".

Your heart raced as you looked up at him, "the age difference", you began hesitantly, “we’re from different worlds, different lives. You have so many options, people around you who… who are more in your vibe and in the line of life you can have. I’ve been through things you haven’t even begun to experience. What makes you think this… us, would be a good idea?", you mused.

Franco took a deep breath, taking a step closer until he was almost touching you, “What makes me think this would be a good idea? That we may have something to explore here? Have a shot at something good together?”, he repeated, looking directly into your eyes, "because every time I’m with you, I feel like I’m in the right place. Because no matter how much you think age is relevant, for me, what matters is how you make me feel. I’m not interested in anyone else, because you’re the one I want to explore these feelings with".

You fell silent, feeling his words invade her defenses. No one ever stood up for you like this.

“Age?”, he continued, "That doesn’t scare me. What scares me is losing you for a reason that, in the end, has no bearing on how I feel about you. You're so amazing and I don't want to lose that".

You bit your lip, feeling yourself wavering between the logic you had always used as a shield and what Franco was doing to your heart at that moment.

He took another step forward and gently placed his hand over yours, “I just need you to tell me… is it really age, or is it something more? Because if it’s just that… then we have a lot more to gain than we have to lose.”

You looked at his hand on hers and, for the first time, let yourself relax a little, allowing your brain to consider the possibility.

“What if it doesn’t go well?”, you whispered, voice hesitant and full of vulnerability, "I don't want to make a promise I can't keep, and I haven't let myself explore these feelings yet and... I don't want to hurt you, Franco".

"Y/N", he sighed softly with unexpected tenderness, “What if it does?", he smiled, "I'm not going to pressure you, and from the moment you tell me that there's no interest, I'll stop and we can remain friends. What I'm asking you is that you consider it first... take your time, I'll wait".

In a moment of confidence, Franco cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead, and for that moment you allowed your wall to lower a little more.

.

The good thing about the hot temperatures outside was that most people had taken their Saturday plans to the beach or the pool, so there was less traffic on your way home. You parked your car in the building's underground garage and went up the stairs to the floor where the apartment you share with Olivia is. Judging by how late you left work, your best friend must be home given that she has the free afternoon on Saturdays.

Turning the key in the lock and opening the door, you find a completely dark apartment, which is strange considering you left the blinds half open this morning to let in sunlight. As soon as you step inside, closing the front door behind you, you're surprised by lights that suddenly turn on and a chorus of voices singing the Happy Birthday song.

You hadn't felt in the right mood to celebrate your birthday this year, given and the changes from studying and the stress of your new job, so to say you were caught off guard by this surprise was an understatement. You had told Olivia that you could have something special for dinner to celebrate the day, and while she insisted a little more, she ended up dropping the subject. And you thought that meant the had agreed to your simple plans - that morning, she caught you when you were having your breakfast, wished you happy birthday and gave your her gift, a very simple necklace with a medal with your initial in it, and didn't make any more fuss.

You definitely didn't expect her to be preparing a surprise like this for you.

Besides Olivia and Mark, Franco is the first person you see in the living room of your apartment - which makes you feel a little bad about yourself considering you hadn't even told him that today was your birthday. Besides the three of them, Maria and Julia, your two closest friends from school, were also present, as well as Pedro, one of your best friends from high school that moved to another city, and as it turns out, came all the way to your party.

When the chanting ends, Olivia approaches you with the cake so that you can blow out the candles, everyone's attention still on you. You know you should say something, but right now, you were completely surprised, and talking under pressure was never your strongest suit.

"Thank you everyone!", is all you can say at first, earning laughs from your friends.

You rolled up the blinds, as they had been down so the surprise had full effect and opened the windows, allowing the air to circulate as everyone gathered in the living room, picking at the foods and drinking on the table you were sure were Olivia's doing for the small celebration.

She is the first one you turn to, tapping her shoulder softly.

"I know... I know you said you weren't in the mood to celebrate, but I thought that this is actually what you need - being with the people that adore you and care about you", Olivia goes first before you can utter out a word, "so, please, just enjoy this, okay?".

"Thank you, Liv", you smiled as you pulled her into a hug, "I can't believe that you went through all this trouble".

"It wasn't too much trouble, and Franco helped a lot", she answered, "the guy didn't even know what day your birthday was, Y/N... That's cruel!", she jokes, to which you roll your eyes.

"I probably forgot about that detail", you answer with a giggle, "thanks again".

"Stop being annoying and enjoy it", your best friend says, joining her boyfriend Mark's and Pedro's conversation.

You take the opportunity to greet Mark and then Pedro, who you haven't seen in person for a long time, "I can't believe you came all this way for this!", you exclaim.

"Of course I came! Olivia told me all the news and not only could I not miss your birthday, but I couldn't not come at a time like this", Pedro explains, "besides, how long has it been since we've been together in person?".

"Too long", you reply with a smile on your lips.

"Exactly! We need to catch up!", your friend exclaims, earning your agreement, "but go greet the rest of your guests first and we'll talk more later", he squeezed your shoulder.

You approach Maria and Julia, hugging them both tight. Although you finished your master's degree as they finished their undergraduate just over a year ago, you hadn't seen each other very often since then as work kept you all busy.

"I'm so happy you're here!", you smile, feeling genuinely happy at having all your people together in one room.

"We couldn't miss it. Besides, we've been missing you so much - you were truly a mother to us and I miss being coddled by you -, and we've already noticed that there's news you haven't been telling us...", Julia comments, wiggling her eyebrows and sharing a suggestive smile with Maria.

"What are you talking about?", you wondered with a quirked brow.

"You don't know? I'll tell you then! About Franco Colapinto!", she snickered, "you didn't tell us you were that close", Maria says.

You're quick to roll your eyes - a common response at her usual antics over the years -, "I told you we were friends", you recall.

"Yes, but we didn't know you were that close!", Julia insists.

"I see your annoying curiosity hasn't ceased", you joked, rolling your eyes again, "Anyway, thanks for being here, I really appreciate it", you joined your hands over your heart before excusing yourself.

Your eyes are quick to search for Franco, but you can't find him in the room. A few seconds later, you spot him returning from the hallway, assuming he had gone to the bathroom or had to take a phone call.

"I should be mad at you for conveniently forgetting to tell me when it was your birthday...", Franco starts, to which you shrug your houlders, trying to put on your best angelic and innocent face.

"I know, I'm sorry... with everything going on, I barely had time to think what month we were on and I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about it to be honest", you explained, "but I must confess I'm happy Olivia arranged this, and I know you helped a lot, so thank you so much, Franco".

"I get, I was just messing with you", he smiles, "and you don't have to thank me for it, you know I'll always do anything to see you happy".

"I know, and that's why I am so grateful", you smiled back.

"Might as well give you the present I got you now", Franco points out, "give me two seconds so I can get it from where Mark told me to put it so it wouldn't be in the way of Olivia's plans and before she started staring at me with her 'I'm going to chop your head off' eyes", he chuckled.

You nodded and waited long enough for Franco to pick up a bag and give it to you, " I racked my brain to decide what I should gift you, because nothing seemed good enough, but I hope you like this".

Undoing the bow keeping the paper bag together, you found a copy of your favourite book with a collectable cover. The intricate detailing of the golden foil complimented the colours beautifully and there was a bookmark inside it, the little tassel falling to the side. Taking it to inspect it closely, you read the delicate lettering Don't lose the sparkle that makes you.. you.

"Wow, Franco", you gasped, completely enamoured by the beauty of it all, "this is spot on, I love it!", you exclaimed, hugging him.

"I'm glad", Franco smiles, jokingly wiping sweat off his forehead and making you laugh.

"Have you met my friends?", you wondered.

"Yes, Olivia did all the introductions", the driver answers.

"Good, let's find out what they're going on about", you suggested, setting the present back in a safe place and pulling Franco with you to join the rest of the group.

You spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening chatting, while you eat and drink the things that Franco and Olivia kindly prepared, and playing some board games. At the end of it, you end up having a really good time, in a way that you haven't in a while, feeling really grateful that Olivia had prepared this surprise. Without knowing it, this was exactly what you needed: your friends and some good moments of relaxation.

"Are you leaving already?", you ask Pedro when the young engineer announces his departure.

"I still have to drive back, Y/N, remember?", he reminds you, earning a nod, "but don't worry your heart too much, I'll keep bothering you with messages and calls and stuff... You won't get rid of me that easily".

"Fine by me!", you smiled at him, "thanks for coming, truly!".

"You have nothing to thank me for. I'll be here any time if you need me - I'm a phone call away", he reminds you, "Are you okay?".

"Of course", you smiled, "let me know when you get home, okay?".

"I will. I had a great time meeting you guys today", Pedro waves at everyone, "until next time!", before leaving the apartment.

At around 10pm, Maria and Julia also announce that they need to leave since they would have an early morning. You bid them goodbye to your friends with the promise of a lunch whenever you could find the time to catch up.

"Don't tell me you're chickening out now and going home too?", a slightly tipsy Olivia teases Franco as he got up from the his spot in the sofa.

"I've already told you that I have the day off tomorrow, my friend", Franco teased her back, getting you and Mark to laugh.

"Let's play another round then", Mark suggested, "since there's only four of us now, we can split into two teams and play Party & Co.".

"This is a recipe for disaster if I have ever seen one", you muttered, "Olivia is a terrible loser and you are a racing driver".

"That's why you should want to have me on your team, I'm used to competing", Franco argued in his favor.

"Strong point, argument accepted. Let's do it!", you declared.

During the game, Olivia ends up making up consequences for those who make mistakes, making everyone drink a few sips of their drinks and even Franco joins in with these punishments, arguing that today is an exceptional day to his usual regime.

By the end of the first game, it's clear that you're all drunk, so you make the responsible and sensible decision not to play anymore. Mark and Olivia end up retiring to the room, leaving you with Franco in the living room.

"I hope they don't make too much noise", you point out as you adjust your position on the sofa so that you're facing Franco, making him burst out laughing at your words, "What?! I'm not telling any lies! Have you imagined how uncomfortable it would be for us to be here and hear them having a baby making practice session?".

"You're right, you're right. I hope they don't make much noise", Franco repeats your words and, this time, you both laugh, "So... did you and Pedro date in high school?".

"Did he tell you that?", you ask, unable to contain your giggles.

"Yes, why? Is it a lie?", Franco asks.

"Half, half", you answered with a gesture.

"How is something half half a lie? It's either the truth or a lie", Franco states.

"I had a crush on Pedro, I tried my luck, but nothing ever happened between us", you admitted, deliberately pausing briefly before continuing, "Because Pedro is gay, Franco, and he was clearly making fun of you", you finally let out a laugh that's been bubbling up since he first asked you.

"Are you serious?", Franco mused.

"Yes. Apparently, he found a weak spot in you and decided to exploit it", you answered amused by the situation that must've enrolled when you weren't home yet.

"A weak spot? Nah... We were talking and he just dropped it, I have no idea why", Franco said, shrugging his shoulders.

"What were you talking about?", you wondered.

"Considering we were at your birthday party... We were talking about you", the brown-haired man answers.

"Please continue", you encouraged.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N Y/L/N", Franco declared, but your glare was enough for him to keep going, "He asked me how we met and I told him. And then he told me about you. And he clearly told me a lie".

"Does it make you feel relieved that it's a lie?", you spoke before thinking properly about it. The sudden courage is unusual for you, but you're playing with all your cards on the table.

"I don't know what you're getting at, Y/N", the driver changes the subject, which makes you roll your eyes.

"I know you undertand it, stop acting like you don't. It's a yes or no question - are you relieved or not?!", you insist.

"Honestly? It doesn't do much. If it were true, it would be something from your past, not your present. We both have a past", Franco responds in a somewhat evasive manner.

"But it could be my present again, especially since he was here today", you decided to insist, wanting to understand how far you could push him.

You weren't sure about the game you were playing, and you couldn't quite say that you were thinking clearly, but this feeling of dominance and being in control was enjoyable. Understanding that this was making Franco uncomfortable also made you realize that he wasn't so sure about talking about what he felt for you. The part of you that wants to understand what he really feels for you is ignited, and you can't tame it down.

After the conversation you had, Franco didn't make any advances and never showed that he wanted more than a friendship, which, in a way, left you at ease, but also perhaps a little disappointed. Had he realised that you weren't worth it?

"Honestly, I don't know what you're getting at...", Franco pretends not to understand again, which makes you sigh loudly, "What's wrong?".

"What I'm trying to understand is if what he said to you bothered you or not. And if so, why. But clearly you are not ready to admit it", you state.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N... You're trying to cross a very complicated line", he warns.

"Why?", you keep going.

"Because you asked for time and space and I gave it to you. And now you're trying to cross a line that I've been trying not to cross, because I'm trying to respect your wishes", Franco answers, this time sincerely.

"That's true, I asked you for time and space and you gave it to me. And I appreciate it", you begin, "but... I know I'm getting closer to that line, maybe I'm even playing a dangerous game too, but I'm doing it consciously".

"What if you're not ready for my honest answers?", Franco argues.

"Well, that's a me problem, isn't it?", you shrugged your shoulders, "can I ask my questions and get back honest answers?", and Franco's answer comes out in form of an unhappy sigh followed by a nod of agreement, "did what Pedro told you bother you? Did it bother you to think that we had dated and that he was back here?".

"Like I told you, we both have a past", Franco avoids the question. Tries to, anyway.

"Honest answers, Franco!", you exclaimed, pleading in exasperation, "of course we have a past, but I'm not going to give the past a shot and I think you won't do again what you did before! With Pedro, it would be different, because if we had dated and he was here, that would mean we had a good relationship. So, I'm going to repeat the question again, and I want you to give me an honest answer - did it bother you or not?".

"It bothered me!", Franco suddenly exclaim, "do you want honest? Here it goes! Yes, it bothered me exactly because of what you just said. Even if, by some act of the devil, your other boyfriend came back into your life, I know for a fact that he would never have another chance with you. However, if you had dated Pedro and if he was here today, it meant that he had a chance with you. And if he had a chance with you, then he was someone I would have to look at as competition".

"And now that you know that there never was and there never could be anything between me and Pedro?", you ask him.

"It makes me feel a little less worried. It means that I still have time to try to continue to mend the damage that others have caused, it means that I can still work to show you how much you mean to me and how high I hold you in my life", Franco replies in a calm and honest tone, which surprises you.

Faced with his words, this time, you are the one who doesn't know what to say. You did ask for honesty and there it was.

"You wanted honest answers...", Franco argues, as if he could guess what was on your mind. Lately, it seemed like he could do it effortlessly.

"I know, I'm not complaining", you admitted, "Does that mean that what you feel for me goes beyond friendship?", you ask directly. You needed to hear it from his mouth.

"What can my answer change in our relationship?", Franco asks, not answering your question.

"Nothing. I won't walk away from you this time, I promise. I just need to know", you clarified.

"Do you really want me to be one hundred percent honest with you?", Franco asks.

"Yes, please", you ask.

"Yes, what I feel for you goes beyond friendship. I tried not to let it be like that, I tried to pretend that I wasn't falling in love with you, but there's no way to control what we feel", he declares honestly without ever stopping to fix his gaze on yours, "Every time I look at you, I see someone with whom I can imagine a future... And I know how hasty this may seem, and I know your reservations about us, but it's simply how I feel. You asked me to be honest and I'm being as honest as I can... But I don't want to lose you, Y/N. In fact, I can't lose you, because, the moment that happens, I think I'll end up losing myself too", Franco stated.

His words leave you completely disarmed, not knowing what to say. Looking at it, you don't think anyone has ever said something like that to you. The words overwhelm you and there doesn't seem to be a right thing to tell him back.

"Can we just forget I said all this?", Franco says, "I don't want things to get awkward between us".

"But I don't want to forget it", you answer quickly, "It was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me".

Judging it by Franco's expression, he was also caught off guard by your words, probably because he thought this would change your relationship again and brung unwanted distance between you.

Truth was, you weren't going to run away anymore. You didn't want to, and you couldn't do it.

Yes, you were scared, but you knew you need to move on. The comfort zone can be very good, but no boat was made to stay at the dock and you needed to drop the anchor and launch yourself into the unknown. Besides, you know that, in a few years time, you won't like to look back and regret what you didn't do.

"Can I ask you the question back, then?", Franco tries and you nod, "Is what you feel for me just friendship? Or something more?".

"I don't have an answer as assertive and confident as yours, but I know that I look at you and I don't see you just as a friend. You are very special to me, Franco. You are the person I want to talk to about everything, the good and the bad. You are the person who I know will never judge me, who will always try to understand me and help me. After all, you were the first person I was able to trust one hundred percent", you admit, "and I'm still figuring out how I'm supposed to allow myself to believe in love again after everything that happened, but I really wish you were by my side on this journey... That you would make me believe in love again", you offered.

"I don't like to make promises, Y/N/N, but there's one thing I'm absolutely sure of - I'll do everything in my power to make you believe in love again", Franco says, pulling you into his lap and embracing you in a hug that makes you feel safer than ever.

.

When Franco called you and asked if you could join him in the park, you were quick to let him know you were leaving work and heading to meet him. The past two weeks had been crazy with him travelling to races and you visiting your family, so texting had become the way you found to maintain contact.

As soon as you spot him by the trees, you walk a little faster, hugging him as soon as you are able to, "can I say that I've missed you?", you joked.

"I missed you loads, so I think it's only fair you tell me", he smiled, "Hi, how was your day?", he asked as he squeezed you against him.

"I missed you", you spoke, "and it was good, better now that I'm here".

Lately, your walls had lowered progressively - Franco's reassurance and a constant defiance of your thoughts had helped you break down the worries you had. Olivia pointed it out, everyone noticed how much happier you were, and even Franco could sense you were feeling more comfortable.

You end up sitting so close to each other that your knees touch and you rest your arm on Franco's and let your head fall on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a few seconds and just inhaling his scent.

"I...", Franco begins but soon stops before saying anything else.

"What is it?", you ask, raising your head to look at him.

"Nothing, nevermind", he shrugs.

"I don't like it when people say that to me. If you were going to say something, don't tell me to forget about it", you state firmly, "Whatever you were going to say, you can say it. Always. I will never judge anything you tell me. I know you, okay, Franco?".

"Yes, but...", he sighs, "I think I'm missing the courage".

"Please, just say it!", you exclaim, starting to get anxious and worried about his hesitation, "Is it something serious? Is there a problem?".

"No, nothing like that!", he clarified.

"Okay, then...", you encouraged.

"It's about a conversation I had with my mother", he says and, although you don't say a word, your expression lets him know he can continue, "about you".

"About me?", you ask curiously.

"She doesn't know it's you, but... It was about us and about what I feel for you", he offers.

At these words, your heart suddenly accelerates, "she told me that life is supposed to be lived and that..", he gulps.

You remain silent, because you don't know if ot what your supposed to answer. There's nervousness and anxiety as you're not sure exactly where this conversation is going to end up at.

"We can't predict the future, we don't know how much time we have", Franco spoke, "what I mean by this is that I've been thinking that, many times, we waste time on things that, perhaps, don't make that much sense. And I think I've been wasting some time in the sense that I've wanted to do things calmly, I've wanted to respect your time and I think I'm the one who's been afraid of taking the next step. I'm too afraid of losing you, but I'm wasting time and we never know when it is too late".

Part of you knows where Franco is going with this, but the other one doesn't fully understand what he's trying to say.

You're nervous, your heart feels like it's beating out of control and there's a lump in your throat. Despite not crying often, you feel the tears right at the back of your eyes, ready to fall at any moment.

"I'm not particularly good with words, Y/N, but what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm madly in love with you. Damn, I'm trying to tell you that I love you. And I know you're scared and I'm scared, because there have been bad experiences, and because what we have is very special and neither of us wants to ruin it. But I think we're wasting time apart when we could make the most of this time together", Franco continues, "I believe we were very lucky to have found each other when we did. I think we had the perfect timing. And every time I look at you, all I can think about is how lucky I am to have found you. I love you, Y/N, and I want to be with you one hundred percent", the brown-haired man stops his speech as if to catch his breath, and then concludes, "That is if you want to be with me, obviously".

What can you say to someone who declares themselves to you in this way? What do you say to someone who has told you everything? How can you say something that comes even close to what you just heard?

"Did I misunderstand everything and after all you don't like me the same way, is that it?", Franco asks, "it's just, your texts and the way you talk, feels like you do".

The insecurity in his voice is the trigger you need for the words to simply come out of your mouth without having to think much about them, "No, it's nothing like that!", you exclaim, "It's just that it's hard for me to say anything after everything you said. I don't want you to doubt for even a second what I feel for you, Franco. I know I haven't been the best person to express my feelings, because when we say things out loud, they become real. And I was so afraid to admit the truth, so much so that I preferred not to say it. But you're right. Life changes in the blink of an eye and it doesn't make sense to keep leaving things unsaid or undone and wasting time. I'm in love with you, Franco. A part of me has wished, since the moment you made an effort for me, that I could have someone like that by my side, willing to protect me, take care of me and be there for me. I have no doubt that my life has changed for the better because you came into it. And I should have told you all this sooner, because you deserve to hear all this and much more. You are an extraordinary person and you deserve to be happy. And I want to be able to make you happy", you stop for a few seconds, taking a deep breath and gathering all the courage in the world to say the dreaded words out loud, "I love you and there is nothing I want more in this world than to be with you and be your girlfriend".

Despite all the nervousness you felt when expressing your feelings, the relief that follows leaves you feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulder. Suddenly, you understand that fear paralyzes people and prevents them from moving forward.

The fear of not being enough for Franco, that he couldn't possibly have a girlfriend older than him and the fear that he would suffer from that was what was holding you back, stopping you from being happy. Now that you got that off your chest, that you said what you feel out loud, you realise you're ready to be happy again with someone else.

The smile that appears on Franco's lips makes your day. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you towards him, pressing your lips together.

You close your eyes and savour every second of the moment: from the way his hand is resting on your waist, while the other caresses your cheek, to the way his lips slide over your and your tongues touch.

When you break the kiss, needing to breathe, you keep your eyes closed for a fraction of a second, enjoying the sensation his lips left on yours.

"I have something to ask of you", you say, opening your eyes.

Franco's arm continues wrapped around you and you remain very close to him without moving, appreciating the closeness.

"Whatever you want", Franco says.

"Don't give up on me. Whenever I try to push you away, pull me to you. Whenever I yell at you because I'm angry, hug me. If I don't answer your texts or calls, look for me. When I feel too insecure, remind me that I'm the only one and how lucky I am to have you. If I'm giving up on us, kiss me and remind me why I shouldn't give up. And I know this is asking too much, but I know you love me enough to do this, to stay with me. I promise to do the same with you, to never give up", you declare.

"I promise, mi amor. I'll never give up on you, not even if you ask me to", Franco smiles as you cup his cheek, bringing your faces closer once again to kiss him.