#i want to be his wife and we argue and then end up having rough makeup sex

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price and Carol Ohmart -

House on Haunted Hill (1959) dir. William Castle

[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.

.

.

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[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐫

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (LMAOOO)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Post-Divorce, shared custody, injury and stitching in the beginning, heavy angst, arguing, Jealous!Miguel, fall out, mentions of infidelity and pregnancy, EVENTUALLY SMUT, PIV unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating (we’re getting nasty nasty), brief breeding kink

𝐀/𝐍: This is inspired by @yougavemeyourheartyouknow baby daddy AU. I didn’t think this one would get this lengthy but here we are I guess.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Divorce was supposed to bring closure, but for Miguel, it only fuelled a lingering ache for the woman he still loved. Convincing himself that ending the marriage was for your benefit, he didn't realise the depth of his mistake until he saw you moving on.

Miguel hissed when he felt the rubbing alcohol being smeared onto the wound across his abdomen with a cotton pad. A sharp scent of disinfectant wove through the air, tingling his nostrils and it mingled with the faint aroma of coffee you both had earlier.

There he was, perched on the sofa in his ex-wife’s living room, hair damp from sweat as you patch him up after another mission as Spider-Man — an event he never anticipated would happen to him at two in the morning.

“Easy, I’m not going anywhere,” he spattered out as he felt another stinging wave from the alcohol. You gaze up at him from his wound that you were focused on before you spoke.

“Sorry, I thought you had a higher pain tolerance,” you said, dabbing the wound gently.

“I do, but that doesn’t give you license to be rough with me like that,” he mumbled. Despite the divorce, he knew you’d never do anything to hurt him.

You both remained friends as your marriage never worked out between the two of you. You would patch him up whenever he needed it— he would rather have you take care of him just to feel your touch than have a random nurse.

As the blood cleared from the open cut, you could see the gash more visibly now. A villain's blade had slashed across him deep enough to leave a large wound that won’t heal on its own.

“You’re gonna need stitches,” you got up from the seat to go to the bathroom before coming back with your kit. Miguel sank further into the plush cushion of the sofa, feeling the fabric yield under his weight.

His heart twisted with a mix of guilt and gratitude as he watched you tend to his wound. He grimaced slightly at the pinch of the needle on his skin but your hands were delicate, careful not to further damage the delicate area.

He sat still motionless as his eyes were glued to you. It was easy to admire you and how concentrated you were right now. You were always nurturing and wanted the best for people you cared about. Your brows furrowed as you kept working on the cut.

“Jesus Miguel…” you whispered, taking in the sheer size of his cut.

“What?” He asked, tilting his head in mock confusion. “It’s not that bad, you know I’ve had worse. You’ve treated worse than this,”

Even if you were divorced and not together by law, he still cherished these moments with you. You were still the same woman he loved.

Watching you fix him up made him feel like things were almost back to normal again— that he was home and his wife was here to get him back on his feet. Until reality would set in.

“I know. It’s almost like you’re testing your own durability,” there was an obvious worry etched in your voice as you were finishing up stitching his wound. It made his stomach churn with silent longing.

“That cut? You really think that’s a test for durability?” He arched his brow inquisitively. He knew it was a big gash but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

“That was nothing more than me not paying attention. But this one however…" he pointed to his bruised shoulder, "that was a test for durability. I got smashed through a wall,”

You peered up at him momentarily, a flicker of disturbance in your eyes, before you silently resumed his last stitches.

Silence fell between you as the faint hum of the city filtered through the window, punctured by the occasional sirens and car horns.

“All done,” you announced, leaning back to examine your work.

He sat up from the couch carefully, making sure not to put too much strain on the fresh stitches. “Gracias,”

“Don’t forget to drink your fluids,” you reminded him.

“Sí sí. You sound like an overprotective mother,”

“Well…I just so happen to have a daughter,” you gave a soft smile. Out of everything that had happened in your marriage, he would forever be grateful that you gave him a daughter.

Watching Gabriella grow was a profound blessing that he would never take for granted. Fatherhood had made him learn a lot about himself that he never knew he could harbour, fostering a newfound level of patience and empathy within him.

And now, as Gabriella was approaching her fifteenth birthday, Miguel couldn’t help but reflect on how quickly the years had passed. He would soon be preparing for her quinceañera with you, a milestone that seemed to arrive in a blink of an eye.

“And do you tell her to drink her fluids as much as you tell her papá?” He asked in a slight tease.

“You know I do and I tell her to eat her greens,” you replied, matching his lighthearted tone.

His heart soared at the fond memories. You were always an amazing mother, a role that bloomed naturally from you as soon as you gave birth to your daughter and held her in your arms for the first time.

He didn’t think he could fall for you more until he saw you nurse your baby for the first time with a tender look in your eyes. He hated the fact that he wasn’t there to witness those precious moments of you bonding with your daughter enough when he had the chance to.

“I’m surprised Gabi hasn’t picked up any of your bad habits,”

“Bad habits like what?”

“You know…the irresponsible stuff,” he chuckled, clearly getting a rise out of you. “You should’ve seen her last weekend. She called the guy you’re seeing a ‘cabrón’”

An uneasy tension knotted in chest after he broached the subject of your date, almost like he was dreading to hear what you were going to say.

He was never thrilled about the topic, just as he never was when you spoke about anything to do with other men. However, he didn’t expect to see your face drop, like the topic hit a raw nerve.

“She said that?” You voice was hesitant and he noticed shoulders slump and your brows furrowed.

Either you were uncomfortable with Gabriella’s candid remark towards your date or you didn’t like that she was cursing at her age.

“She did. Look I heard what she said but she’s probably just saying that to sound grown up. She is a teenager and the hormones make them go nuts,”

“Sure I guess,”

“Try not to take it personally,” he reached out to hold your hand and tried to reassure you, even if hearing Gabriella cursing wasn’t the best thing a father should let slide.

“I’m not upset about that,” you droned.

“Your tone says otherwise,”

“There’s something I want to discuss with you,” Your demeanor shifted into something more serious and you were avoiding eye contact with him which made him uneasy. “If I’m going to keep dating him, I can’t patch you up like this anymore,”

Miguel swallowed thickly, processing what you had just told him. “You’re not meaning…”

“Yes,”

He felt an uncomfortable pull in his gut and his heart felt like it was about the leap out of his throat. “You can’t be serious,”

“It won’t be fair on him if I’m still friends with the man I was married to,” Miguel couldn’t help but scoff at that, but he couldn’t call it stupid.

A small part of him knew that you were right. How could any man feel safe when his new woman was still close with her ex-husband, her ex who still loved and pined for her? But he wasn’t going to stand for that.

“And since when did I care if it’s fair on him?” He snapped back.

For a split second, Miguel could feel the cool platinum of the wedding band that he still hasn’t removed from his finger. It served him a bitter reminder that he was still not over you. He hoped you wouldn’t bring it up, especially now.

“This isn’t just about you,” there was a sharpness in your tone when you said that, whether it was intentional or not it still cut deep. You continued to pour salt on the wound as you added on, “Don’t act like you didn’t sign those divorce papers too,”

“Stop it, don’t you think I know that. I was naive to think that a divorce was going to solve anything,” Those damn divorce papers. Thinking about it made the knife that was already stabbing his heart twist further.

If there was anything he regretted the most in life, it would be sitting down in the courtroom and signing those papers that finalised your parting.

Now, he had to watch you go on a date with someone else because he pushed you away. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, frustration knotting in his chest.

“You know why we had to file the divorce,” you said.

Miguel’s mind went spiraling and he wanted to sink into the floor. He was fully aware that he was the one to blame for this. The long hours he spent away as Spider-Man, the growing distance between the two of you— it all led to a rift that tore you apart.

He initiated the divorce, convinced it was for the best. Your marriage was standing on its last leg and he didn’t want to waste your time.

Even if there was no bad blood between the two of you and you decided to stick to being friends after, it didn’t make things hurt any less. Miguel still craved more of you and he missed his chance when he had it.

But now the consequences of his decision were biting him in the ass and the prospect of his biggest fear was coming to fruition. He couldn’t stop you from dating again and he hated it.

“Even if we do stick to being friends, we’re going to be more distant than we were before,” you further explained.

Miguel stared silently as you stood up from the couch and kept going. Each word uttered from you was punctuated with agony that was piercing his heart. “You’re not going to be able to have me like you used to Miguel, not the way that you want,”

He knew he was starting to be selfish now and he had no right to be jealous when he failed you as a husband. He was fully aware of the point you were making and the logic behind it but he still refused to let it go.

Finally he spoke after a long while, “I’d rather have a part of you than none of you,”

“Do you truly believe that you’ll be satisfied with that in the long run?”

Realistically, no. But he wasn’t going to admit that to you. He didn’t want to be a bystander in your life and witness you bounce back and love someone again that wasn’t him.

But despite that, he still wanted to stay because there was still a small part of him that was grasping onto straws, hoping that you will take him back and you’ll be his again.

But how long could he accept the scraps of you that you’d throw at him before it got too unbearable? It was ironic— the main cause of his wounds that you just patched up right now, the life of Spider-Man, was the reason why you both drifted apart.

“If it wasn’t for our shared custody that’s tying us down, I would’ve said we should’ve cut off a long time ago,”

Those words hurt more than Miguel let on. He rose from the couch and limped towards you, hissing from the sting of the wounds. “Don’t say that, I’m the father of your child—”

“And that’s all you’ll ever be,” Miguel winced internally.

He didn’t know what hurt more, you interjecting or the fact that you only saw him as a co-parent to your daughter. But the latter was definitely going to have a lasting effect on him.

He was going to reach out for you, but you turned your back to him. He had nothing to say now and this could be the last time you would be this warm and open with him.

Without uttering another word, he tapped on his watch to engage his suit before moving towards the window. A moment before he shot his webs to hoist himself away, you spoke one last time.

“You have Gabi for next weekend.”

He merely nodded at your words before he disappeared into the night, swallowing his frustration and disappointment. His web shooters echoed through the streets.

His mood drastically changed the moment he left your comforting apartment to the chaos of Nueva York— it was almost palpable.

His web shot out, catching onto the building he was aiming for. He landed against the wall with a gentle thud before he turned back to look at your apartment from afar. This was going to be the last time he could swing by your apartment through your window freely and his heart was already aching for you.

~

Miguel headed up to your apartment and rapped at the door. It didn’t take long before he saw Gabriella answering the door to him.

She had a duffle bag full of her clothes for the weekend and her phone was in one hand. He gave her a warm smile and kissed her forehead.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied casually.

Miguel’s line of sight went past Gabi and further into the house. You weren’t anywhere near the door.

He didn’t know what it was but Miguel felt a pull that was coaxing him to go to you. For a moment, he was conflicted whether or not he should see you. But eventually he caved in to his desires and stepped into the house.

“Where’s you mom?” Miguel asked.

“She’s in the bathroom taking a shower, I think,” Gabi replied before her attention was drawn into her phone screen.

“Stay here. I’ll be back,” Miguel padded over to the bathroom with cautious steps. It had been six months since your friendship had broken off, and he didn’t know what to expect when you saw him in your home.

His palms were sweating, and he could feel every pulse in his body. Part of him thrived off the anticipation that was building up to the moment but the other part was screaming at him to turn back and just leave you alone.

The bathroom door was ajar but the shower wasn’t running. He could see from the gap that you definitely weren’t taking a shower.

He found you sitting in the walk in shower with your knees tucked into your chest. You were wearing a tank top and some sweatpants. He pushed open the door further so he could get a better look at you.

Your eyes looked foggy but he could still see the redness around the rim from crying moments earlier. It almost looked like you were in a dissociative state, and for a moment, he thought you didn’t acknowledge him until you spoke.

“Gabi’s stuff is at the front door,” you mumbled. Your voice sounded hoarse and wavering as if it took extra effort for you to speak.

“Yeah, I saw,” he replied, keeping his response short so he wouldn’t overstep any boundaries. The last thing he wanted was to open the door to more problems.

“So why are you here?”

Miguel didn’t know how to respond without eliciting a negative reaction from you. He didn’t want to tell you the full truth, but he also couldn’t think of an excuse for your question either.

He couldn’t leave your question hanging longer than it already has, so he opened his mouth to speak, even if he didn’t know what to say “I…was just checking Gabi got everything,”

The nagging urge to reach out to you, to touch you, was getting harder to ignore with each passing second he was in your presence.

Seeing you this vulnerable in the bathroom was tormenting and it was not something he was expecting to see. He didn’t know how to inquire about your well-being without sounding invasive.

“Are you okay?”

Clearly not. You shook your head mutely. At least you were being honest. Miguel cleared his throat before he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s pathetic,”

“It’s not pathetic if it got you crying like that,”

Seeing you on the bathroom floor like this sent him back fifteen years earlier where you were in the same position, except you didn’t look so ghostly.

Both of you were holding each end of the pregnancy test, nervousness etched in both of your faces as you anticipated for the results.

Miguel gave your hand a reassuring squeeze feeling the clammy warmth of your skin against his. Your eyes remained glued to the test in front of you, time seemingly slowing to a crawl.

The moment you saw the double lines appear, you broke down into tears and sobbed into his chest from pure joy. Miguel’s heart stuttered as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly.

The news that you were going to be parents cremated his love for you even more. You couldn’t stop crying and wouldn’t release him that night— your grip was like titanium.

He didn’t mind carrying you to bed though, the weight of you in his arms grounding him in a sense of euphoria that washed over him now.

Seeing you now, so different yet so achingly familiar, brought a lump to his throat. He heard your voice again and was brought back to the present.

“He…” the word was lodged in your throat. Miguel could feel a tinge of rage brewing in him with a mixture of his protective instincts. He knew you were talking about your current boyfriend the moment the word left your lips.

“He cheated,” you stated. Miguel's anger flared and he balled his fist tightly, struggling to contain the rolling emotions threatening to spill out. Even if he didn’t show his anger outwardly, you still knew him well enough to pick up on the signs.

“Please I’m begging you, don’t do anything rash. I’ll heal from this, but the last thing I want is you getting involved,” he heard your plea, and seeing your upset expression made him push aside his heated thoughts.

He was inadequate when it came to being your devoted husband, so what made him believe that he could be your hero in this situation.

He didn’t want to do anything that would further upset you; he had already overstepped your boundaries by trying to reconnect with you.

But now that you’ve broken things off with your boyfriend, could this be an opportunity to rekindle your friendship? Maybe something more. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

His heart was trying to root him to stay but his intuition was tugging at him to go. It was clear that you didn’t want to talk about it further with him.

As much as it bothered him, there was nothing he could do. After all, you were a grown woman, and you were free to keep things to yourself.

You didn’t owe him anything even if he was your ex-husband— if anything that was probably more reasons why you shouldn’t share anything with him.

“I think I should be getting going, Gabi’s waiting,” he turned around and reached for the door, trying to conceal his disappointment.

“Wait—” you called out. He halted. “Are you planning to do anything later?”

“Uh…no. Why?”

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” You asked meekly. He mulled it over for a moment. He suspected that you didn’t want to be alone after what you’ve experienced and he was glad that he was the one that could keep you company.

“If it would make you feel better, then of course,” his tone was warmer and his muscles relaxed at the thought of spending an evening with you.

There was still that underlying anger he felt towards you ex who had the galls to betray you like that behind your back.

But that was overshadowed by the newfound seed of hope that was planted in his heart— that things might get better between the two of you.

You rose up from the shower floor and washed your tear stained face before you both got out of the bathroom together.

~

Miguel felt the rush of wind brushing past him as he swung over from building to building to get to his destination. His movements were fueled by determination and yearning.

It wasn’t long until he could see the soft glow of your bedroom light filtering through the curtains. He paused outside of your apartment, contemplating how things would turn out. What was he doing here? What was he hoping to achieve? All he knew was that he couldn’t stay away no matter how hard he tried.

With a sigh, he slipped into the open window and pushed past the curtains. He found you settled on your bed with the bedside lap on. You glanced at him, showing that you had acknowledged him but you didn’t give him your full attention.

“Gabi’s staying over at my parents’ house,” you said dismissively. Part of him was glad that Gabi wasn’t around— he didn’t want her to witness how vulnerable he was right now and the tension between her parents.

“I’m not here for Gabi,” he replied, his voice steady but his heart racing.

The apartment felt different than normal— almost hollow even though nothing much had changed physically the last time he was here. Maybe the feeling was from the absence of warmth between the two of you

“Do you need me to patch you up again?” You asked incredulously, still not looking at him.

“I’m not here for that either,”

Finally, you look back at him, waiting to see what he had to say.

It took a few seconds before he could trust himself to speak again, but to him it felt like a lifetime. The words he had rehearsed mentally over and over finally spilled.

“I came here to apologise, for everything. I neglected you and wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now how much I’ve hurt you,”

There was an uncomfortable silence that stretched out for a while. Your face was unreadable, blank of any emotion and Miguel couldn’t tell what was going through your head. There wasn’t even a twitch in your expression that he could pick up on.

“Now he says he’s sorry,” your voice carried a bitterness that threw him off. You climbed off your bed and took a few steps away, facing your back to him.

Miguel’s heart sank in disbelief.

“Are you really going to give me the cold shoulder now?” He climbed down the windowsill and stepped further into your room towards you. “Look, I know it’s a late apology, but I need you to understand how much I regret pushing you away. Please just hear me out,”

“Do you have any idea how much you hurt me? You left me alone. You were never there, always busy in another dimension or saving the multiverse while our marriage fell apart.”

“I was trying to protect you!” His voice escalated in volume. “Everything I did, I did it for you and Gabi,”

“Protect me?” You scoffed. “By pushing me away? All you did was made me feel like I wasn’t important enough to fight for,”

Miguel gritted his teeth, feeling his frustration surfacing. “You think I didn’t suffer? Every time I left, it tore me apart. But I thought it was something I had to do,”

“You thought wrong,”

Suddenly all those gloomy memories came rushing to him like a tidal wave. He could see the images of your lonely silhouette sitting at the dining table, waiting for a husband who never came home.

The empty bed that felt colder each night he wasn’t there.

The guilt that had been lingering since the divorce now crashed down like a storm on him, suffocating him.

“I know I made mistakes and I didn’t prioritise our marriage. But I never stopped loving you, not for a second,” He said, his voice softened, almost in a pleading manner.

“Really?” You said, your tone cutting. “Did seeing me move on and go on another date make you suddenly come to your senses?”

Miguel’s jaw clenched at that. He didn’t like that you saw him that way but he couldn’t blame you for coming to that conclusion. “That’s not fair, I was trying to do what’s best for us. I didn’t want to hold you back,”

“You didn’t want to hold me at all, Miguel. Do you really think that you could swing by into my apartment and fix everything with an apology?”

“No…” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair before his voice lowered, “But I would regret it everyday if I didn’t try. Losing you was the biggest mistake of my life,”

His mind was racing, remembering the warmth of you embracing and how you would fit perfectly together. “I miss the way we used to be, I missed the way you would melt in my arms, I miss coming home to you,”

“Kiss me,”

“What?” He gave you a puzzled look. “After everything that I’ve done to you, you want me to kiss you?”

“If you’re really sorry, you would kiss me,”

Miguel hesitated— his mind was conflicted, torn between his guilt and your command. For a moment he didn’t move, studying your face to see if you had an ulterior motive to all of this. Was this a test or a chance at redemption?

But eventually, he caved in and leaned in until his lips met yours. The kiss was soft and gentle at first as he was holding back from overwhelming you.

His lips slowly parted, and he softly whispered into your mouth. “I’m so sorry,”

He heard you moan softly in response and his chest clenched. He couldn’t believe he had that much of an effect on you just from a kiss.

His hands reached over to the back of your head firmly before his lips pressed hard on your lips, not wanting to miss a single moment of you were sharing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”

You clung onto him, your kiss hungry and desperate, as if trying to erase all the pain and distance between the two of you.

After everything you’ve been through, you’ve still had a tight grip on him, and it was killing him little by little. But he would happily give himself to you without a second thought.

He pulled away and his lips trailed over your jaw. All the hostility from you melted away as he continued to kiss over your face and neck. He could visibly sense the tension easing from your body as your breath hitched.

He pulled his face away from your neck to look at you in the eyes. “Needy,”

“Says you,”

“Yeah? I’m not the one who asked to be kissed though,”

“You and I both know that you wanted it just as much as I did,”

“Hmm maybe. Do you know what else I want?”

“I might have an idea,” you finished off your sentence by grinding your hips against his own. He let out a stuttered moan at the touch before a smile crept across his face.

So shameless.

He felt the heat creeping to his groin and translating to a growing erection. His dick was painfully hard now and you continued to grind your hips, using his erection to get more friction.

His face heated up when he heard your desperate whines. You were so needy for him right now and that was only stroking his ego.

He pulled away from your embrace and disengaged his suit with his watch to reveal his nude body in its full glory— his throbbing dick was the most prominent view.

He saw you gawking at the precum that was spilling from the tip— an amused smile played on your lips before you looked back up at him. “Look who’s needy now.”

Hearing your smug remark brought him a wave of nostalgia, something he missed when making love to you. But it also ignited something in him— a growing desire to take you and make you eat your words.

He grasped onto the hem of your silky nightgown and pulled them up so he could reach to your undies to pull them down. Swiftly, he lifted your legs up and wrapped them around his waist before effortlessly pinned you against the wall.

He knew he was being desperate and skipping most of the foreplay tonight, but he didn’t care. He needed to feel you clench around him, his body will hate him if he delayed it longer.

Positioning himself against your folds, he could already feel your wetness paint his tip. You were soaked just for him and only him— just how it should be.

He pushed himself in and your mouth hung from the overwhelming stretch from his dick. Feeling the grip you had was almost enough to knock the winds out of him. He halted when he was halfway, gauging the sight of you.

A sense of familiarity washed over him when he saw your face warp while struggling to take him in. Your brows were furrowed and your mouth was agape, slowly drowning in the bliss he was giving you.

You let out a startled moan when he slammed the rest of him in with a lewd slap.

“Go slow…please. I need time to adjust,” you breathed, voice coming out staggered. He kissed the corner of your mouth in acknowledgment. He dragged himself out before rolling his hips in, keeping a steady rhythm so he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable.

It was easier to feel and hear how wet you were with his slow and shallow pace. He had been yearning for this moment for too long and now that he could finally have you like this, everything felt more intense.

You were finally his again and it almost felt too good to be real.

He rested his forehead against you, watching through his hazy eyes how responsive you were to him and picking up every micro expression.

The room filled with your soft moans as he kept thrusting into you. Your labored breaths merged with your lips inches away. He could feel his peak crawling in and he made sure to reach the deepest part of your crevice before he unraveled inside you.

Having his release fill you up again was dizzying. Carefully, he put you back down onto your feet again and you leaned onto his chest for stability until you regained your balance.

He kept holding you close with his body pressing flushed against yours and catching your breaths in silence. A short moment passed before you looked up at him.

“Let me taste you, please.” You said. It wasn’t a question. Hearing the way you requested that in such a sultry way made his cock twitch and he was whipped all over again.

He could feel the heat rush to his cock and his erection forming. “You want a taste? How can I say no?”

He pulled himself away from you and perched on your bed, spreading his thighs to display is dick standing on its end. He let out a sharp exhale as he watched you go down on your knees for him and settled between his legs.

Miguel tensed when he felt your hand clasped around his length, grappling onto the bed sheet to steady himself. The after effect of his previous climax was still tingling and coursing through him.

“Easy…don’t overdo it,” he muttered, his hip stuttered slightly.

You look up at him and he could feel a new string of precum drawing out from the tip. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,”

Your tongue grazed along the tip, and you were collecting your own wetness that coated his dick from earlier along with his precum. You were so eager and yet so gentle, it was overwhelming.

You were too good and it was getting to his head. Everything about you was enticing. You gave the head of his cock a few kitten licks and he let out a groan, his hand reaching over to the back of your head.

It took every fiber of him not to buck his hip and shove him all the way into your mouth. He had to squeeze his eyes shut when he felt the warmth of your mouth around the tip. He let out another pleasurable moan, arching into your touch.

The sensitivity in his body continued to soar through him and the feeling of your mouth was enough to drive him up the walls.

You’re so good. How are you always so good at this.

More precum beaded up from his tip and gently leaked down into your mouth— he heard you hum from the taste. You lowered your head until you had his full length in his mouth.

His eyes fly open from the sudden sensation and he looked down to see you eying up at him. You carried a soft look in you eyes even while doing something lascivious. It was enough to disarm the coldest of souls; he couldn’t help but caress your cheeks right now.

“Eres tan hermosa en este momento,” he mumbled, still in a hazy trance. His nerves were firing and he threw his head back, getting lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

Before he could register it, he was shaking and trembling when his orgasm came crashing down again. Ropes and ropes of his jizz squirted into your mouth. His eyes were unfocused, and it took him several deep breaths before he could find his voice again.

“Ay por dios…”

He still felt sparks from his high and his mind was absolutely buzzed. The lewd sound of you swallowing him down send a shiver crawling down his spine and his stomach fluttering.

His head dropped against the pillows from exhaustion, still panting. He felt the bed shift when you lie besides him and nussled against his chest.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he confessed, kissing the crown of your head.

“I can still taste you,” you teased. He responded lift your chin up to look at him and caught your lips in a gentle kiss. He was insatiable and he didn’t want to stop feeling your touch after having been deprived of it for so long.

He was quick to slip his tongue into your mouth and map out the familiar heat that he loved so much. The taste of himself was barely lingering in your mouth.

His mind was spinning from everything— the taste of your lips, the smell of your arousal and the sound of your low moans as he kissed you deeper.

All the little ways you responded to him was enough to give him the energy to turn you over on your stomach. His straddling on your back and his hard on sat at the base of your rear, between each globe of your cheeks.

“Hard again, eh?,” you quipped, turning your head to look at him.

But your demeanor quickly shifted when he began to push himself in, keeping his pace measured and slow. You started gripping and kneading the sheet from the feeling and muffled your moans into the pillow.

“Don’t hide from me,” he muttered, leaning in before his teeth nipped at your earlobe. You lifted your head from the pillow instinctively, letting out a startled noise.

He continued to slide himself in and out of you while simultaneously kiss along the curse of your neck from behind— each thrust was measured and calculated so you’d feel everything from him.

“Do I make you feel good, amor?” He moaned in your ear before he started to build a faster rhythm. Your noises became more urgent and he could tell you were desperately chase your high.

Each thrust pushed you further into the sheet. A guttural moan ripped from you as you clenched around him and reached your impending climax. He felt your come around him, taking him closer to the edge.

He pulled out momentarily, turning you around so you lied on your back and rested your legs on his shoulders. He didn’t give you a chance to prepare before he bottomed out.

He started thrusting inside you with little to no exit before hand. He didn’t pull his cock all the way but rather dragged himself slightly back before slamming back in relentlessly. The rough pace only milked more moans and sweet noises out of you, encouraging him to keep going.

Your voice was becoming frantic mixed with your moans and he almost missed when you spoke.

“Breed me,”

It took a moment for the words to register in your head and he felt his mind go hazy from your request. It wasn’t a question, but an order. You wanted this more than anything. His thought were filled of you, being bred by him and carrying another child and marking you as his again.

“Make me a mami again,”

This gave him extra motivation now. Each time, his thrusts became more and more sporadic and losing it’s rhythm. The bed creaked in protest from his pace. With one final stroke, he pushed as much of himself inside you and filled you up with your seeds again.

But he wasn’t done. He pulled himself away so he could slip two fingers into your swollen pussy. He gathered the remnants of your shared release onto the pad of his fingers before he held them near your mouth.

Pressing his thumb against your lower lip, he gently lowered it down and watched in awe as you opened your mouth. He pressed his fingers in so you could get a taste and let out a low groan, feeling your mouth suckle on the cum that was clinging onto his fingers.

“Can you taste how good we are together, amor?”

He kept watching you intently until he slipped his fingers out and reached over to kiss your forehead. You look spend and your breathing became laboured.

Miguel perched onto the bed besides you again, gulping to moisture his dry mouth. He had spent so many nights alone, haunted by the nights of his decision that led to your divorce.

Being in bed with you alone, naked and drenched in the afterglow felt surreal. He didn’t think he would ever experience this again.

“Have I told you that I never stopped loving you,” he whispered with raw emotions. Even if he did already tell you, he wanted you to know that he meant every word. It was never about falling out of love but rather about protecting you and his daughter— his family.

Your eyes met his. “I know. But love wasn’t enough to keep us together,”

“I know that now. But I want to make things right, if you let me,” The air that was static with tension was now starting to flourish with new possibilities.

“I don’t know if things will be back to the way they were, but let’s take it a step at a time,” you kissed his mouth.

You pulled away and rose from the bed. “But I want to take a shower first, care to join me?”

He gave you a mischievous look and he was liking where this was going. “Lead the way, cariño,”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @maiyart @lazyjellyfish300 @mrsoharaa @truth-dare-spin-bottles @farrowroyale

@amberbalcom14 @blvd-sourz @bluesidez @slushycoookie @prettygirleli

@saintdiior @peachipeachy @xyziiix @mybvalentine @c4rm1son

@annavatar @scaryplanetdestroyer

You know normally in a situation where the character gets back with reader, you’d expect them to get all possessive and primal and whatnot. I didn’t want to showcase that dominant dynamics here. Not my cup of tea ewewew I kinda liked that I got reader to tease Miguel too and they still had their back and forth even after everything

Ayrus xoxo

[drghostwrite]

Black is my color…

Pairing: Regina Mills x wife!reader

Summary: One jealous Regina.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, smut(like dirty sexy jaw dropping), some kinks (mommy, slight bondage/blindfold, strap on)

********************************************************

Being married to the mayor was one thing, always looking the part, being a driving force and support system, sometimes even her protector, honestly it wasn’t that bad, Regina had changed and everyone loved her so being mayor was like a no brainer.

Being married to Regina Mills, that was a whole other story, at first it was rough, proving to her that she deserved to be loved the way she loves, too many countless nights were spent arguing or even holding her in your arms as she cried from exhaustion and everything; though no one ever said marriage was easy.

You had your good times too, you had family and friends, you owned half the real estate in Storybrooke, but recently opened a bistro on Main street which allowed you to do your own thing and support Regina any way she needed, even if that meant mid day make out sessions in the office.

It was that time of year again, town hall meetings, because of not only owning half the town and also being the Mayors wife you also had to sit through back to back meetings with her.

“Dear, what’re you wearing?” Regina called out to you as she stood in front of the mirror putting earrings in. Your arms wrapped around her resting your chin on her shoulder.

“if I had my way I would say nothing, I’m going to tell them my wife wasn’t feeling well and I needed to take care of her.” You placed gentle kisses on her neck.

“Hm cute… but really?” She asked a hand coming to your hair as she leaned back into you, you inhaled the scent of her expensive perfume holding her a couple seconds longer.

“how’s this look?” You stepped back and in a moments notice she wanted to jump you, you had on the black knit top that hugged your upper body perfectly, the deep green suit complementing your skin tone the pants hugging your smooth curves, the stilettos peeking out made your legs look amazing.

“Absolutely amazing.” She said kissing you passionately.

“well then Mayor Mills, time to go remind this town what a power couple we are?” You held out your hand.

“Always.” She grinned, taking it and following you out to the car, when you arrived at the town hall you watched as people gathered and whispered among themselves.

when Regina entered the conference room followed by you it fell silent, power just permeating the room, there was a sense of security and gentleness that followed you and it was intimidating to most.

It wasn’t long before the meeting started to get slightly heated. You sat next to Regina, who was now distracted by how good you looked, oh how she wished she could take you right there, in front of everyone.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked at you a silent plea for help and immediately you were at her side.

“okay, okay…” you spoke up.

“So you do have a voice?” Gold snarkily replied.

“Gold…” Regina growled lowly, and he smirked.

“Hey she’s pretty persuasive at times… I’ll give her that…” Gold said raising his hands.

“Cause she’s hot, like dirty sexy hot… no offense…” Ruby started explaining, “if you weren’t married to the scariest person alive I would sleep with you.”

“Uhh, Ruby.” Snow gasped as the younger girl shrugged. You heard Regina, a scoff escaping her perfectly painted red lips behind you her signature eyebrow raised.

“Well fortunately enough, I’m happily married and my sex life is not the topic of this meeting.”

“well just saying though, no wonder you always get what you want… Regina’s hot too but you, she’s lucky she got her hands on you first.”

“Amen Sister.” Grumpy added. You knew your wife was on fire behind you as you stood and ended the meeting.

“Honestly if you ever, you know get bored… call me.” Ruby play flirted with you before leaving as you just rolled your eyes.

You felt as Regina quickly grabbed your hand and basically pulled you to the car. The car ride home was silent, Regina sat there not saying a word, you reached over and ran a hand on bare thigh were her skirt was lifted.

“Regina, love are you okay?”

“I’m fine…just ready to be home.” she said with sass and laid a hand on yours, you pulled in the driveway and she followed you in the house.

“I’ll be right there.” You said kissing her perfectly painted lips, going to put your keys away as she brushed past you to go upstairs. When you got up there you could tell something was off but thought maybe she was just tired, your eyes followed her half clothed form as she walked around your room in her underwear and the satin top partially unbuttoned. You wrapped you arms around her from behind, kissing her neck, “Hey, are you sure your okay?” She leaned her neck back to give you more access before turning around and pushing you back.

Soft kisses from you turned into bruising kisses from both of you as she pushed you back onto the bed, on flick of her wrist and you were unclothed, her in just a black lace lingerie set.

“Regina?”

“Dear?”

“Mm…” you said as her kiss stole the words from your lips. You let your hands roam her body, as she did the same to you, but not before she grabbed your hands off of her hips gathering them above your head.

“How much do you love me?”

“more than anything…” you replied.

“and you trust me?”

“with my entire life…” you said as she kissed you, her hands held yours in place as she was above you.

“Hm,” she softly moaned, “then be good for mommy.”

You let out a soft moan as she applied some pressure to your hands, grinding her hips into yours as she straddled you. You saw as she sat back biting her lip, going to move your hands but you felt the soft fabric as it strained against the headboard.

“Baby…” you whined.

“uh uh…” she moaned back, biting her bottom lip.

“mommy?” You asked, with a whine.

“are you asking or telling?” She leaned forward her breasts brushing your stomach as she slithered up your body, her hands roaming the goosebumps forming on your skin.

“I need you…” you whispered breathlessly.

“need me?… come on, you can do better than that…” she said her hands teasing your excited body, “I’m going to make you beg for my attention.” She chuckled darkly, her pupils blown as she pulled a hard nipple into her mouth.

“mommy I need you.” You whined out begging for her to touch you, to fuck you until you were seeing stars.

“if only they could see you now, the sexy and domineering mayors wife, falling apart at my touch.” She whispered in your ear, one hand traveling down to your core, between your legs where she was lying.

she slowly pulled her middle finger through your folds, teasing you, drawing moans from your plump lips. She knew you well, too well, enough that just her skilled fingers brushing against your sensitive clit was bringing you close to the edge, she moved down the bed her breath warm against your core.

“I-shittt, Regina…” you hissed out as she licked up your slit, pulling your clit into her mouth, letting her tongue make magic, you felt one finger then two slide in as she started pumping them, the black satin fabric around your wrist straining as you tried to touch her. You were so close panting, as you were on the verge of climax, then she pulled out, sitting back up to straddle your hips.

“Ughhh…” you let out a frustrated moan as she had robbed you of your high.

“not yet darling,” she said kissing your lips, her tongue roaming your mouth.

“don’t you taste amazing?” She asked you as you could taste you on her lips, she placed kisses on you neck and breast, leaving dark red marks that would definitely be purple by morning.

“the marks…” you struggled to get out, you would leave them on her in the most discreet places knowing that she hated when anyone else could see and yet here she was leaving them everywhere that someone could and would see them.

“I want everyone to know who you belong to, who’s wife you are, who makes you feel this good.” She said marking your body, hands pulling at the restraints as you tried touching her again.

“Damnit… let me touch you, please.” You begged again.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” She said crawling off of you and standing next to the bed, she stripped of her panties throwing them on the bed next to you, she tied another piece of black satin around your eyes, disappearing into your large walk in closet, you tried peering but the fabric wouldn’t let you see anything.

When she returned you felt as the bed dipped beside you and she undid your wrists, she slowly slid the blindfold from your eyes and you shot up on your knees pulling her into a kiss, but you were quickly met with a hand grabbing your hair and pulling you back.

“be a good girl for mommy.” She said her white teeth peeking through her signature smirk. You looked her over seeing the strap on that she currently wore, the thick black dick staring back at you.

“go ahead… show me what you can do.” she trailed as you lowered yourself in front of her pulling it into your mouth, feeling the bumps and ridges on your tongue. She sat there watching, admiring the perfect view of your ass in front of her. You looked up at her making eye contact as she reached down lifting your chin so she could pull you closer to her.

“you ready?”

“yes, mommy.” You said in a low tone watching her lips lightly part.

“Mm, then be a good girl and ride mommy’s dick.” She said sitting down her back against the pillows, you straddled her lap feeling as she positioned the toy at your entrance and you slowly lowered yourself. You hissed as you felt the slight burn as it stretched you, slowly turning into pleasure, you started grinding your hips against hers, the double sided strap on bringing you both pleasure.

you started moving you pace a little faster, “oh god, shit,” you reached out steadying yourself on the head board, your wife taking in the view, you riding the silicone cock, skin glistening, your boobs bouncing in front of her, it wasn’t long before you were both on the verge of climax, she thrusted up into you matching the pace of your hips, her hands gripping onto your hips helping to guide you, keep you steady. You threw your head back, eyes rolling in pleasure as a loud moan escaped from both of your lips. Your orgasms rocked your body, your legs shaking as you felt your muscles clenching.

You stayed there a moment the toy inside of you both as you sat in her lap, letting your breathing steady, gently kissing her lips, breath ghosting over each other as it slowed, you climbed off of her settling next to her on the bed.

“I would never leave you…” you whispered breathless, “I’m always yours.” You looked at her as she smiled at you and climbed on top of you placing delicate kisses on your lips.

“Dear, I’m not done with you yet.” She whispered in your ear, one hand going down to spread your legs, quickly repositioning herself between them, pushing the silicone toy back into you.

“im not going to be able to walk tomorrow,” you said breathlessly in between moans.

“Not when I’m done with you.” She said thrusting back into you bringing you to the edge of another orgasm.

******************************************************** Taglist:

@poisonappleeater @thesamesweetie @gayestswiftie

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

To Love An Emperor: Part 3

Just fluff for now,I may do some more smut later if the people want it

Part: 2

Sunlight broke through the large stained glass window of the room, decorating yours and Caracalla's naked skin with a beautiful mix of colours. It was the first night you had shared truly together, previously you would lay with him and return to your own quarters, last night he wanted you with him, to feel your soft delicate skin against his own, told hold you close in his arms as if you would melt away if he let go.

You felt yourself stir and wake slowly, awoken by the rough bristle of the stubble of the emperors face upon your skin. Caracalla was nuzzling against you, wanting to feel the sensation of your skin upon his own, to prove that you were real and beside him this time, a dream he had longed for.

The pair of you laid entwined together, not knowing where one body began and the other ended, enjoying the warmth of eachothers embrace. Today was to be the first day of the Gladiator games to honour a respected General, one who's name you needn't remember, all your duties were towards your betrothed emperor and no other.

The soft skin of Caracalla's hands stroked over your body, his fingertips dancing along your skin as he wondered how such a beauty came to lay beside him. The morning was filled with silence and stolen glances, though you had lain together many times this was different, this was more intimate and real, something was begining to blossom between the two of you now.

You turned to face Caracalla, you were now at eye contact level with him, drinking in his beautiful blue eyes. They were like sparkling sapphires or deep blue ocean pools, they were dangerous to you as you knew you could get lost in them. Caracalla was always overlooked against his brother Geta, the public had always favoured him and deemed him the strong and attractive one. It pained you to watch Caracalla wrestle with his own insecurities, thinking he would never live up to Geta, you wanted to express how happy you were the day you were chosen for him and not Geta but you could never find the words.

You pulled Caracalla in for a deep and meaningful kiss, it wasn't one to suggest any further intimacy, it was one to show how you cared for him and what he meant to you. It almost felt like a tear ran down your cheek as you kissed him but you brushed the thought away, you did not want to bring anything up and ruin the loving embrace you were both now in together.

The door to the room swung open, causing you to cower under the bedsheets to cover your modesty, Caracalla laid there unbothered by his nakedness, he was an emperor and such imodesty did not concern him. Geta burst forth to shout before he saw you, the look in his eyes changed, from one of anger to annoyance. Caracalla should have been ready to leave for the new Gladiator games by now het he was laid here with you, his soon to be wife. Geta shot a lot of expletives and insults towards Caracalla, it wasn't until Geta called you a whore that Caracalla finally snapped. You saw the vase fly past you, aimed at Geta, it missed it's target but the message from it was well recieved.

The entire situation was unhinged, once the vase was broken they stood face to face to argue, you were scared that one would kill the other. After a few tense moments they agreed that we would attend the Games shortly and we were not to divulge any memory of this situation.

Geta left in a strop and Caracalla flopped back onto your naked body, kissing your collar bone and neck "he's right we do need to go, I just want to kiss you once more time" his lips were sloppy and desperate upon your skin, dancing over the marks had left upon you the night prior.

You giggled slightly and embraced his kisses, enjoying his lips, feeling the softness against your neck. It was not long before you both were dressed, acceptable for the day, Caracalla sent a servant away to fetch you suitable clothes, though he admitted you looked beautiful as you were, naked in his bed, it being a crime to cover your body.

You dressed swiftly once the clothes arrivedbwoth the servants, steeling yourself for the day ahead, knowing you were to make your debut as Caracalla's betrothed at the games, it would be an interesting one for all.

Your hands were entwined, feeling Caracalla squeeze your own. There was a glint in his eye that you had not seen up close, a glint of bloodlust and excitement. The emperors were known for their enjoyment of the games and now you were ready to see it first hand. The gaze of the soft and heartbroken emperor now replaced with wrath, a look that had now begun to stir something more inside you.

[bangchansgirlsblog]

i was wondering if we could have an argument or really angsty fanfic kind of i nEED to be hurt lolll

Keeping up with the Bhangs

Not the angstiest them all but yeah.

Warning: Angst, fighting, broken arm

Summary: Chan is a billionaire who can’t seem to stop demanding so much from his wife.

Pairing: Chan x reader.

**

"Chan I'm so mad at you," she exclaimed as she walked out their bathroom. It was as big as 4 bathrooms combined but better and more expensive.

She made her way into their walk in closet where Chan continued to put on his tie obviously not bothered by Y/n's rant.

"Baby, can we not do this right now? I have work right now," he put on his shoes and grabbed the jacket that Y/n had neatly ironed for him.

This annoyed her so much because why was he being so dismissive about the situation. He had always listened to her.

"But Chan, you can't just expect me to drop everything I have to come with you later," she crossed her arms together and glared at him as he walked up and down their room now trying to get everything together for the day.

Yes, even tho he was the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the world he still chose to be in time for work so he could be able to set an example.

"Christopher? Are you even listening to me?"

The tension in the room was high.

"I'm not Y/n!" He snapped turning to look at her, "I have work, I have meeting, I have things to do! You having to put on a pretty dress and smiling for one of the biggest events of the year shouldn't have to make me hustle like this. So please," he rubbed his temples and grabbed his phone from the table stand.

His phone was blowing up. Probably all calls from the office or his assistant. God, his assistant. The thought of her made Y/n skin crawl. Anger was  slowly fueling her outburst.

"Chan you know Joon-Ho has soccer all day and you already told me to go to it without you. Then Ji has a play. You want me to drive back home get dressed for a night out?"

The kids were downstairs watching tv while getting ready for their day. Their usual routine set by Y/n who chose to be THAT kind on mum. You know? The pretty, laid back, almond mum? It was working great for the kids.

"God! Why do you have to be so difficult. Fine. I'll just go with my assistant," he didn’t mean it but he was so angry he couldn’t hold back. He knew how much Y/n hated his assistant. How much she got jealous whenever she was around.

She frowns and the anger she initially felt, slowly melted. She couldn’t speak. She was hurt by his words.

"Chan that's not what I mean-"

"Then what? What do you possibly want from me?" He growled, "this conversation is over."

He grabbed his laptop bag and left her to stand there alone. The rising sun sending sun rays through their big windows. Her body slowly shock as each sob left her mouth.

This wasn't there first argument. They had argued the night before about the same thing but this time Chan was really laying it on her.

Chan always tried to understand her. He always listened but recently the more his business became successful the more rough and snappy he became and it wasn't helping her at all because having 3 children and one on the way was heavy.

Yes they had nanny's, yes they had drivers, yes they had maids but she didn't like to bother them. She liked doing things by herself because at the end of the they were her kids. She didn't know what evil intentions these workers had against her or her babies.

**

"Mama!" The voice of her littlest rung through her ear. Her scream making her body completely go numb.

"Soo-min? Babygirl? What happened?!" She gasped finding the little one on the ground holding her wrist.

"Mama!" She cried and jumped into her arms seeking comfort from Y/n.

"Soo-min, you have to tell mama what's wrong," Y/n panicked. How could she be so blind. She turned her back for one second.

"Mama it hurts!" She screamed once again in agony as she still held onto her wrist. Y/n's heart skipping so many beats.

It was only 10 minutes till end of the game. Why did this have to happen to her? Her brain was trying to process the situation. Trying to figure out what to do. The nanny was quick to be by her side trying to help in any possible way.

"Let mama see princess," she begged her little one, "did you fall down?" She questioned the crying girl.

"Mummy, can I go with the girls before the the play?" Ji-Yeon, their middle child, asked her.

"Not right now Ji, your sister’s hand is hurt-" she was shitting it down but a tantrum began. She couldn’t handle everything that was going on at once.

"But mum! You never let me go play! I wish daddy was here instead of you!" This stung. This hurt Y/n. This made her feel like the worst person in the world. Her husband hated her, she couldn't take care of her kids and they hated her. Her mental breakdown was slowly building up.

"Can you behave right now? I can't deal with you bratty attitude right now,"

"I hate you!" She barked back.

"Ji-Yeon. Do not try to tempt me right now or so help me God. Go sit over there and keep quiet or you're grounded."

Although she was in the middle of a tantrum the girl was scared, so scared she got up and made her way to the table where she continued to sulk.

"Soo-min, let mama see okay?" The little girl handed her mum the little hand. Her hand was so tiny that Chan loved to call it a baby paw because of the shape in made when it was in a fist.

Her wrist didn't look okay, it looked broken and that only made Y/n's anxiety grow larger but she kept her cool and continued to carry the little one to the nanny.

"Take her to the car right now, I'll get the rest of the kids. I think she broke her wrist. Please inform Chan to meet us at the hospital," the nanny agreed and slowly carried the crying girl.

Y/n rushed over to the coach and teacher to apologize for her abrupt leave. She explained to them the situation and told them that their other driver and nanny would be there to pick up her oldest son. She made sure security was with him before kissing him goodbye as he continued to play on with his game.

**

It was 6:30 when Chan run through the door. He was panicking and his tie was loosened around his neck.

"Is she okay? What happened?" His breathing was quick but his body relaxed once he saw his wife.

"How could you let this happen Y/n?" He barked at her.

"I was just trying to collect everything so-"

"She's a kid! A 4 year old. You guys should be paying close attention to her. Where's the nanny? Tell her she's fired, I can't believe you right now,"

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? Who takes care of the kids on a daily? Me! Who goes for all their shows and their sports events? Me! Who's there to pick up the pieces whenever you leave home? Me! So don't you dare come in here and say it's my fault Chan," hot tears poured from her eyes and she glared at him. He was taken back. Everyone in the room was.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault…” he looked at the floor. Regret was eating him alive.

"I want a divorce Chan." Chan didn't allow her to even get the chance to walk away before he grabbed her hand and dragged her to the private hospital lounge. He wasn't going to have this conversation out there where nurses and doctors were watching.

Just like the kpop world worked, the Korean business world worked the same. Dispatch and everyone was ready for the biggest millionaires to crash and fall. Everyone was waiting for the latest scandal or drama and this was not going to look good for him.

"What do you mean you want a divorce?" He asked in disbelief. Her brain felt foggy and she felt exhausted.

"Chan, we're always fighting. You treat me like shit. You barely listen to me. You think I'm some baby making machine. All you care about is our image!" She exclaimed gasping for air, "I wish you never became rich, I want the old you back,"

His hands wrapped around her instantly. No hesitation. Her scent filled his nostrils and his body automatically relaxed. De ja vu was hitting him hard.

"I'm sorry," was all he could say. "Let me fix this, please my love?"

"C-Chan I can't. I can't do this anymore," she cried harder. A panic attack slowly passing by.

"Shhh, hey? Look at me. We're okay. I will fix this. I love you so much." He whispered while leaving kisses on her forehead.

"Can we finish up from the hospital and talk at home? Please my love,"

"Fine," she sighed, "but I'll go use the bathroom to wash up."

So she did, she washed her face and made her way to their daughters room where she found Chan goofing around with Soo-min. The poor little girl was so intrigued by her father that she forgot all about the bandaid they were wrapping her up with.

"Mum, are we still going to my play?" She asked softly. Y/n had totally forgot. How could she forget?

"Yes my love, let me talk to your dad really quickly, go get your bag," she giggled and quickly grabbed her bag, "can we stop by Yoona's house mama?"

"Yes princess, we can but only if you behave," the little girl smiled and quickly sat in the chair waiting for her mum to finish having a conversation with her dad.

"Chan, I have to take Ji-Yeon for her play, I totally forgot. Can you finish up here? I'll meet you at the house in like 2 hours,"

"Yeah sure, are you sure you wanna go for the play? You don't look too good love, I can go instead..."

"'No, I've got it. Once your finished up here, I called the chef to cook her some soup. Just feed it to her and then put her to sleep," she instructed Chan, "also make sure when you warm her bottle it's room temperature, she doesn't like it too hot or too cold. Also when you put her in bed you have to cuddle her Chan only for 5 minutes and she'll be out like a light."

Chan admired her as she wrote down the instructions down on the paper. Watching her be so controlling and being such a good mother was low key turning him on.

"Babe, we will be okay. I've done this before-"

"Yeah like 3 years ago before you became mr boss man," she teased her and quickly gave Soo-min a kiss on the cheek.

"Mummy loves you princess, I'll see you in a bit," the little girl waved at her mum and continued to admire the pink plaster that wrapped around her hand.

[scarlethexelove]

Can you please do a part 2 for we'll keep you safe. Maybe some nice domestic bliss. Maybe someone tries to ruin that.

Save You

Found on google

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2786

Warnings: Angst, Kidnapping, Pregnant reader, Mentions of Birth, Assault (On Reader), Torturish (Being strapped down), Murder (Well Deserved), some fluff.

Part 1 We'll Keep You Safe

A/N: This one was fun to write. I liked coming up with idea's and enjoyed writing this. So I hope that everyone likes it. Definitely some touchy things with Reader being hit but nothing too bad. Really please enjoy.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The sound of popping and sizzling can be heard as the bacon is being cooked on the stove. You're mindlessly watching it cook, checking if the bacon is ready to flip or not. Arms wrap around your waist lifting your swollen stomach lightly. You let out a moan of pleasure and relief. A body pressing against you and kissing your neck. “Mmm fuck.” You lean into the body behind you. “Feel good detka?” Natasha asks from behind you. “Yes” You breathe out. Natasha kissing your shoulder and neck gently. 

“She has been hanging pretty low and I feel like I’m ready to pop.” You sigh the soft moment between you and one of your wives. This is your second pregnancy and it has been a rough one. “You need to relax and get off your feet.” Natasha says trying to guide you away from the stove but you're stubborn. You need to flip the bacon so that is what you do. “I need to finish cooking breakfast.” 

Both of your attentions are pulled away when you hear the patter of three quick footsteps. You look down the hall seeing Wanda chasing after the twins. “Come here you little rascals.” Wanda says scooping Billy into her arms but not quite able to catch Tommy. Billy lets out a giggling squeal as Wanda kisses all over his face. You break out into a wide grin watching the adorable interaction. She notices you smiling, setting the boy down and wrangling them into the kitchen. 

“Sit down boys, breakfast will be done soon.” You lean down kissing both their heads as they wrap around your legs nudging Natasha back a bit. “Ok Momma.” The boys say in unison as they quickly scramble into their chairs. Wanda gently pecks your lips before ushering for you to sit down with the boys. “You relax, I'll finish here.” You try to stop her but Natasha picks you up making you let out a squeal. “Natty put me back down. I was almost done. I can finish it. I’m pregnant, not  broken.” You try to argue with your wifes but they have none of that. “Sit, relax, we have this.” Natasha tells you as she sets you down in your seat. You huff crossing your arms. “Fine.” You give them a small pout. Nat leans down kissing your pout and then your head as she moves to keep the twins entertained while Wanda finishes cooking. 

You smile fondly as you watch Nat playing with the twins. Thinking of how you got here. What your life was like before they saved you. Some time after they took you from your wife they set you down to explain everything. Turns out they were the Avengers. You thought maybe it was a coincidence but was surprised to find out. Your so-called ex-wife was their mission. Turns out she was an assassin just like Natasha. You were her cover. All of it was fake, well of course all of it but the beatings you got from the woman. They were tasked to bring her in to help take down the red room. But they had fallen for you and when they saw what she had done to you that day they weren’t going to let it go so easily. Your ex put up a good fight but she was no match for Wanda, ending in her being killed. 

And that is how you ended up here with the best life you could have imagined. Two beautiful wives, two beautiful boys, and a little girl on the way. Your wives had retired from being Avengers shortly after you gave birth to the boys. Wanting to be around for you and the kids. Your life is perfect. 

You're pulled out of your thoughts when you hear the doorbell ring. “I’ll get it.” You say as you use the table to help you lift yourself up. “Detka.” Wanda tries to warn you. “You are cooking and Nat is playing with the boys. I can open a door.” She relents, nodding her head to you. You make your way to the door, opening the door to find a woman standing there. “Hi, can I help you?” You ask the unfamiliar woman at the door. She says nothing as she quickly jabs a needle in your neck. Her hand clasping over your mouth to muffle any cries that would come out. The world around you starts to spin as your body feels heavy. Your vision fades black until your body drops. 

You feel groggy and your head is heavy as it hangs down. You blink your eyes open, lifting your head up. You try to move but your hands and feet are strapped to a table that has you upright. Your vision is blurry as you try to focus your eyes. Soon enough a man comes into focus. The man is taller than you, round face, gray hair, and glasses. He gives you a sinister grin as you focus on him. Your body is still feeling heavy. “Wh-who are you?” You mutter out. “Hmm I’m surprised my little widow didn’t tell you all about me.” The man chuckles. You rack your brain trying to figure out who he is. He watched you curiously to see if you could figure it out. But that is when it hits you. Natasha has told you about her life. Her life before the Avengers. “Dreykov.” You spit out his name like it is poison on her tongue. His grin just grew with approval. 

“So she does talk about me.” He says with a vote of arrogance. If you could, you would punch him in the throat. Beat him until he black and blue on the floor no longer breathing. But your restraints prevent you from even touching him. He can see the fire in your eyes and the desire to hurt him. He leans in close enough for you to smell his breath and feel it fan against your face. “I want what was taken from me and you're going to give it to me.” 

A wave of confusion washes over your face. He watches you with the smile never leaving his face. You think it over, does he want Natasha back? What can you do for him to do that? Will she come try and rescue you and sacrifice herself to save you. You have no clue what it could be. He gives you a little bit before speaking up again. “My precious widow left me. She had the perfect genetics to be the perfect widow. Highly skilled and one of the most efficient widows ever to go through the program.” He pauses scratching his chin. “But as an Avenger she won’t be so easily controlled anymore and I can’t risk the exposure. So I’ll settle for something, rather someone else.”  His eyes travel down to your stomach before looking back into your eyes. Your stomach turns at the realization. A wave of sickness overtakes you as you feel like you're going to throw up and you almost do. 

“Y-you can’t.” Tears start to well in your eyes. But the man doesn’t care, he is satisfied by your reaction. You don’t know how he knows that the baby is Natasha’s and that you're having a girl. Have they been watching you this whole time? Waiting for the right opportunity to strike. “I’m taking what I lost. She will be a part of a new age of widows. Enhanced, stronger and faster than ever.” He places his hand on your stomach and you fight against the restraints. “Get your fucking hands off of me you filthy disguesting pig.” You seeth. He slaps you across the face hard. The sting setting in as tears run down your cheeks. “My wives are going to find you and when they do they are going to gut you like the pig you are. You will never have my baby.” His actions are not stopping you. 

This time he lands a punch on your face. Your head whipping to the side. You look back at him smiling, blood running from the cut in your lips onto your teeth turning them a shade of red. “You think I can’t take a punch. Your other pathetic widow did it for you and hits harder than you. You weak pathetic man. Looks like you don’t even care that she is gone.” The man seethes at your words landing a few more punches. He stops your blood coating his knuckles as he takes out a white handkerchief. Gently wiping the blood off as he looks back up to you. “She was weak and deserved what she got.” 

You're not surprised by the man's words or reactions. Natasha said how short tempered the man was. You don’t know why you chose to talk back to him. Maybe in hopes that when Natasha and Wanda find you that they see you and kill him right on the spot. They have done it once for you and you hoped they would do it again. 

“Get comfortable, you're going to be here awhile.” He chuckles heading towards the door, knowing that in your position there is no way to get comfortable, only pain. “Hey fuck face. Your widow took me before I could eat some food and if you want my baby she needs food which means I need food.” You try to reason with him in some hopes of food. “Fine.” He waves his hand as he exits the room. Knowing that you are right as much as he would love to starve you to death instead. He then thinks maybe that will be what he does after you have given birth. 

A few minutes later a widow walks in a bowl in her hand. You can see the contents and they look like slop. Is this what Natasha had to always eat? Nasty slop that isn’t meant for human consumption. She walks closer to you not speaking words but holding up the spoon to your lips. You hesitantly take the lumpy food in your mouth. It is bland with a horrible texture but you need to eat something. You just hope your girls make it here quick.

Natasha and Wanda don’t take long to know you’re gone. They watch the camera’s to see that a woman has taken you and Natasha knows exactly who was behind it. She sees red. She is going to take him down once and for all. She won’t stop until all the widows are freed from under this tortuous man. 

They drop the kids off with Clint and Laura saying they will be back soon. “Mommy, Mama please don’t go.” Billy protests holding on tightly to Wanda. The boys don’t understand what is going on and where you are but if you're gone they don’t want them to leave either. “Mommy and Mama have to go save Momma.” Wanda kisses his head. “We will be back soon, I promise.” She tells the boys. Tommy is clinging to Natasha and she kisses his head. “Mommy and me love you very much and so does Momma. But some bad people took Momma and we need to go help her. Can you two be good for Uncle Clint and Aunt Laura for us. We promise to give you a big surprise when we get home with Momma.” Natasha explains. The boys nod their heads with tears in their eyes. Both women take turns giving each boy a hug and a kiss on the forehead before heading out. 

Natasha makes a few calls and enlist the help of her sister Yelena, her adopted mother and father Melina and Alexi. All of them vowing to take the red room down once and for all. Melina has the access to get them into the red room. So they use that to their advantage. 

You don’t know how long you have been locked up here. Your body aches painfully still strapped to the bed. A widow comes in periodically to feed you before leaving again. You tried to talk to them before but they stayed silent the whole time. You’re starting to lose hope that Wanda and Natasha are going to find you. Scared that Dreykov will get exactly what he wanted. To take your daughter and to form her into the most deadly widow of all time. Your cheeks are bruised and swollen as tears run down them. Your face is covered in dried crusty blood. They only bother to feed you and nothing else. You don’t want your daughter to grow up in this world and you know that neither of your wives would either, especially Natasha. 

Alarms blare as you hear explosions erupting from various points around the structure. There are more sounds of explosions, bullets, and movement of people on the other side of the door. You hear some fighting directly outside of your door. You don’t know if you should be excited or scared of what is to come. Soon the door slams open and a Blonde enters. She quickly shuts the door, holding a hand up to her ear. “I found her. East wing behind a large wooden door.” She then meets your eyes making fast movements towards you and she starts to undo your restraints. “Who are you?” You question the blonde as she undoes your ankles. “My name’s Yelena. Natasha is my sister and I’m here to help you.” She stands up undoing your wrist. “Nat has a sister.” You look at her a little hurt that you didn’t know. “Adopted sister, we were in the red room together.” She undoes your last restraint. Your legs giving out under you, Yelena quickly catches you in her arms and gently gets you to the ground. 

The door slams open and you see a frantic Natasha with Wanda behind her. Behind the both of them you see Dreykov wrapped in Wanda’s magic struggling to try and get free. But his attempts are futile. They both rush forward and see the condition you're in. Natasha takes you from Yelena and pulls you tightly into her arms. “I’m so sorry Y/n. I promised to keep you safe and I failed.” You can hear her sniffling as you bury your head in her neck. “You saved me.” Was all you could murmur out. 

 Wanda looks back at Dreykov, more red swirling in her eyes. Her magic wrapped up to his neck before snapping it. The sickening sound of the crack before her magic dissipates and his body slams to the ground making a thud. You jump a bit at the sound. But Natasha shushes you, rubbing your back. Soon Wanda is by your side as you start sobbing in relief. Wanda wrapping her arms around the both of you as you feel safe again in their arms. 

Your relief is cut short as sharp pain is felt in your stomach before you feel a gush of liquid between your legs. With the pain you were having all over you glossed over the repeating pain in your stomach. “Oh shit!” is all you hear from Nataha, the liquid also soaking into her lap. “What?” Wanda questions before Yelena cuts in. “Guys, we need to get a move on. This place is going down soon.”  But you ignore Yelena’s words. “I think my water just broke.” You say as another wave of pain hits you. “My water definitely broke” You groan gripping onto Natasha. “Oh shit!” You hear collectively from the three women. 

Natasha picks you up and carries you. Making your way out of the exploding base. Once you’re all outside you can see that you're up in the air and you're making your way towards a quinjet. Your contractions get closer together as you groan in pain. The women getting you and other women onto the ships to get everyone off safely. Melina and Alexi had freed the widows on the ship and were able to get the locations off the others around the world to release them from the red rooms' control. 

Once everyone is on the ships the Quinjet takes off. You’re not going to be able to make it safely back to your home or a hospital in time to have your baby. So with the help of Melina and Yelena you safely deliver your baby girl. Not without some yelling at your wives that they did this to you but they hold your hands and support you through all of it. Adding not just Liliya to the family but also Yelena, Melina, and Alexi. Your family grew larger than you expected it to today but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[jpmarvel90]

Grief

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Relationship: Natasha x Reader, Sister Wanda x Sister Reader

Summary: After Clint's death, Natasha falls of the rails and her marriage is at stake.

Word Count: 6554

Y/n’s POV:

When Clint died, it affected everyone in the team. But most of all, it affected his best friend, Nat. After his funeral, Nat started to withdraw from everyone, including me, her wife. Her walls went up and she almost went into self-destruct mode. I barely saw her. She would be out all-night doing God knows what. Most of the mornings when she would eventually come back home, she was drunk or high.

She had stopped working, which was for the best anyway as she wasn’t in the right mind set for it. But work was always her outlet when things got rough for her. I barely saw her and when I did, she would talk to me. I was lucky if I got a good morning or goodbye. She would never tell me where she was or where she was going. At first I would wait up for her, terrified something had happened, then she would come in to bed in the early hours, not even addressing the fact she had been out all night.

Eventually, I would be asleep before she came in and then she would be gone before I woke up. I felt helpless that I couldn’t help her. I would try to get her to open up, but she would just ignore me. We started to argue more, something we had rarely done. If we disagreed, we would always talk about it. Even if we didn’t end up agreeing, it would rarely end up in a fight. Now, it seemed like just saying good morning would get a rise out of her.

The team were worried too, and they had all tried to help her as well. But it was no use. I spent so much time talking to my sister Wanda about how I was worried that she was slipping away. But she would encourage me to be patient and just be there so when she was ready to talk, she knew I was there to listen. But she was becoming nasty and the worst she got, the harder it became.

I would tell myself that she had lost her best friend, the man that saved her life and gave her a second chance to fight for what was right. If I ever lost Wanda, I would be devastated and know that I wouldn’t cope. I was Natasha’s wife. It was my job to be there for her, for better or for worse. But it looked like better was never going to make its way back again.

It was late on a Tuesday evening when Natasha stumbled through the door to our house. The smell of alcohol seeped off her and she looked a mess. When looked closer, I could see lipstick on her neck. I felt my heart constrict at the sight, but I wasn’t going to jump to any conclusions. “Nat, where have you been?” I asked calmly, making way towards her. She just started to giggle. “I wanted a drink.” She slurred out, pushing past me to the stairs.

I followed her and watched as she stumbled around trying to get herself ready for bed. I knew there was no use in talking to her now. She was drunk and probably wouldn’t hear anything I had to say anyway. So, I waited. I sat up in bed and waited until she woke up a few hours later. One thing about Nat was she never got a hangover so was always ready to function the next day. She looked at me surprised when she saw me awake and watching her. I heard her sigh, but we needed to talk. It had been 6 months since Clint died and she was getting worse. I know she is grieving but this isn’t healthy, and I hate not being able to help her. What sort of a wife isn’t able to comfort the person they love?

“Where were you last night?” I asked, keeping my voice calm and low, not wanting to frustrate her. But it didn’t work. “I was just out for a drink.” She said coldly, making her way to the bathroom. “Please Nat, I’m worried about you. I want to help you.” I said trying to contain the emotions. “I don’t need your help Y/n. I’m fine.” She huffed, doing everything to ignore looking in my direction.

“I know you’re hurting, and I can’t begin to imagine how you’re feeling, but you can’t keep doing this. It’s unhealthy.” I said and I could tell she was starting to get angry, but I wasn’t planning on backing down today. “Exactly, you don’t know what I’m feeling so just back the fuck off.” She spat, shoving past me to leave.

I ran down the stairs and blocked the door so she couldn’t leave. “Natasha, I’m your wife. I’m not going to force you to talk to me, but please talk to someone. You need help. I’m worried about you. I don’t know where you go and then you come home drunk and last night you came home with lipstick on you.” I said frustrated, my resolve breaking.

She slammed her keys down on to the counter and walked towards me not breaking eye contact. “I do not need you telling me what to do. Being my wife doesn’t give you some special pass to know everything about me. And the so what, I was having fun last night. Isn’t that a good thing?” She said with an evil smirk on her face. “Fun with someone else is that what you mean?” I ask, almost at a whisper, terrified of her answer.

She paused for a moment before answering. “Yeah, someone who doesn’t badger me at every minute of the day.” She said it so casually, and I felt my heart shatter. She cheated. “I mean that little to you, that you would go and cheat?” I asked. “This just isn’t working anymore Y/n. Neither of us are happy. Let’s just cut our loses whilst we can.” Her words were cold and callous. “Nat, you don’t mean that. We’re married, we’ve been together for 8 years. You’re grieving and if you need space, then I’ll give it to you. But please, this isn’t the end for us.” I argued, tears filling my eyes.

“Well, maybe 8 years was enough. This isn’t the grief talking Y/n. I can’t do this anymore. I think we should break up.” She said, not making eye contact anymore. I felt sick and my legs were shaking. “Break up? You want a divorce?” I asked in shock, and she just nodded. I was speechless. I looked at her and I knew that there was nothing that I could do. I moved away from the door and walked away from her, tears streaming down my face.

When I heard the door close, as she left, I fell to my knees and broke down. I couldn’t believe that the woman that I had fallen in love with could do that to me. Not wanting to stay in this house any longer, I grabbed my bags and filled them with my clothes and anything I wanted to take with me. Which wasn’t much as I didn’t want the memories of this anymore. I locked the door and push my key through the letter box. I packed up my car and made my way to the compound.

I was greeted by Jarvis, and I asked where Tony was. As usual he was in his lab. I was making my way there when Wanda saw me and chased after me, trying to find out what’s wrong. “Y/n/n, please slow down. Have you been crying?” She asked as I ignored her and found Tony. “Y/n what do I owe the pleasu…. Y/n, oh God what’s wrong” He asked, his voice turning to one of concern. “Can I move back in please?” I asked with no emotion to my voice.

Both him and Wanda looked at me confused. “This place will always be your home, but what about Nat?” Tony asked and I felt myself shudder at her name. “She’s asked for a divorce.” I stated and they both gasped. Wanda pulled me into a tight hug. “She’s just grieving Y/n she didn’t mean it.” Tony tried to comfort me, but it was no use. I shook my head. “She said it wasn’t that. She wasn’t happy and she um. She cheated last night.” I shared and I felt Wanda’s grip on my arm tighten. I looked up to see her eyes going red. “I’m going to kill her.” She said but I grabbed her hand.

“No Wanda. It’s not worth it. Clearly, I was stupid to ever believe that she ever truly loved me. I never should have let my walls down.” Wanda’s eyes calmed and she looked at me with pity. “Please don’t put them back up Y/n. I can’t see you like that again.” She pleaded but it was too late. I didn’t plan to let anyone back in. “Tony, could you give me a number of a divorce lawyer? I’d rather get this done and out of the way so we can move on.” I explained.

I noticed his eyes move towards Wanda with concern, but I ignored it. “Sure, I’ll email you the details for when you’re ready.” She offered with a kind smile. I thanked him and made my way to my car to grab my bags. Wanda helped as we unpacked my things in silence. I had never felt so lost and hurt. Wanda could feel the pain I was in, and I could tell it was hurting her to see it. I started to block off my mind, not wanting her to her my thoughts. The first step to building my walls back up.

Third Person POV:

The team were shocked by Natasha’s actions. They barely saw her anymore, but how she so callously broke up with Y/n was something none of them expected. Natasha had never been happier than when she was with Y/n. They all knew she was hurting, but to cheat on Y/n and ask for a divorce was a complete shock. Although they understood that Natasha was grieving, many of them were angry at her.

Y/n had done nothing but be there for Natasha. She had never pushed, and she had taken every argument and insult that Natasha would throw at her in the heat of the argument. She stayed when many people would have left. Instead of working to get better for her wife, she pushed her away and did the one thing that was unforgivable. She broke Y/n’s trust the moment she decided to cheat. The team didn’t recognise Natasha anymore and they didn’t know what to do. They only person they thought that could get through to her was slowly falling into their own pit of depression.

Y/n thought she was being strong by hiding her feelings and focusing back on work. But the team could see past it. They knew she was hurting, and it pained them that they couldn’t help. When Y/n and Wanda joined the team, both of them struggled to settle in. But Y/n found it harder. She had spent more of her life in Hydra, and it took years before she was the fun, caring and loving person that the team grew to know. They were terrified that she was going to fall back to being that broken girl that joined the team 10 years ago.

Everyone was shocked when Y/n got divorce papers so soon. They thought she would give Nat time to realise her mistake, but Y/n was beyond hurt now and was doing everything she could to protect what as left of her heart. Wanda was most worried. Not being able to understand how Y/n was feeling scared her. Even in Hydra when Y/n would block Wanda from her mind, she still spoke to her. But this time she had totally shut herself off.

Y/n threw herself into missions and was nearly always away from the compound. For Fury it was great. Her success rate was high, and she never complained regardless of what the mission was. He started to use the fact that she was hurting to his advantage, which frustrated, Tony, Steve and Wanda. But Y/n passed all evaluations and was will which didn’t really given them a leg to stand on to stop it.

On team missions, it was clear that Y/n was reckless. Not with the safety of others or the success of the mission, but with her own life. On multiple occasions she would come back with some form of injury, but it wouldn’t stop her. Y/n main focus was to get the job done and protect Wanda. The last person that she truly cared for.

She still loved the team, but Wanda had been there her whole life. Y/n would do anything to make sure her sister came home in one piece, regardless of the cost. Wanda was the last person Y/n could lose. She knew she would never come back from that if she did. Y/n would rather die if it meant that Wanda survived.

It was a solo mission that ultimately brought trouble for Y/n. Fury had underestimated the forces that Y/n would go up against and within a few hours, Y/n was missing. Steve was leading comms from the compound and her tracker and comms were down. There was no sign of her. Tony started to do all he could to find her, whilst Steve had to have the difficult conversation with her sister.

He found Wanda in the common room reading when he took a seat next to her. She looked up and instantly her eyes started to gloss over. “Its Y/n isn’t it.” She said before Steve could say anything. He nodded sombrely. “She’s missing. Tony and SHEILD are doing everything they can to find her.” He explained and Wanda broke down. Steve was quick to pull her into his arms to hold her. “I can’t lose her Steve. She’s all I’ve got. I should have done more. She was hurting and I couldn’t help. My own sister. I let her go back to closing herself off and now she’s gone.” Wanda cried into Steve’s shoulder who tried to keep her calm.

“You did everything you could Wanda. Do not blame yourself. No one could have helped her in the state she was in. You being there was what she needed, and you did that. This was just her way of coping.” She consoled. “I’m terrified Steve. My sister can’t be dead.” She sobbed. “Y/n is dead?” both Steve and Wanda’s head shot up, anger filling the witch’s eyes when she saw the source of the voice.

Nat’s POV:

Losing Clint was the hardest thing I’ve had to go through. He was the reason I was able to make a difference and start to clear my ledger. He made a choice to save me and give me a second chance. One that lead to me gaining a family and a job that allowed me to make a difference. He was the reason I met my wife.

I knew I was pushing everyone away, but I couldn’t help it. I could feel the grief consume me and I was angry at everyone. So, I didn’t what I did best, I ran from my feelings. I knew I was hurting Y/n but in my mind, I didn’t care. I knew she would be there for me when I got my shit together. She didn’t push me at the start, and I was grateful for that. But then she would question where I was more, and I didn’t want to talk about it. So, I pushed her even further.

I started to dread coming home and seeing her. Our relationship wasn’t the same anymore. I know it was my fault but in the heat of the moment, I decided I wasn’t prepared to do that anymore. So, I did something I never thought I would do. I broke her trust and then asked for a divorce. I could see her heart break but the grief I was feeling was selfish and I didn’t care. So, I left.

If I had not been so fucking stupid, I would have seen that Y/n had done everything I needed to work through my grief. I was just too stubborn to do what I needed to. I let it consume me and I didn’t care who I hurt along the way. Even if that was my wife. The woman that I adored with all my heart. The woman I would die for. I was an asshole.

I lied to her. I didn’t cheat. Well, I guess technically you could say I did. I kissed another woman, then as it started to go further, I realised what I was doing and stopped it. I couldn’t do that to Y/n, even if I couldn’t see that everything else I was doing was toxic towards her.

After going on a 3-day bender, I found myself at the door of Clint’s old house, knocking. Laura opened the door with a smile which dropped when she saw my state. “Natasha, what are you doing here?” She asked a little shocked. I hadn’t seen her since the funeral. I could face her knowing that Clint was gone. Clearly my subconscious had brought me here. “I uh. I don’t really know.” I told her honestly and she was quick to pull me inside.

She made a pot of coffee and we talked for a while. I apologised for not being around. But she said that she was doing good. She had her good days and her bad, but she was strong for the kids, and they were finally started to heal as they knew that Clint wouldn’t want them to be stuck in a cycle of grief.

Her words hit home with me. If his wife and kids could move on with their grief, why couldn’t I? “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look awful.” Laura said with a smirk, but worried eyes. “Yeah, I’ve not really been dealing with everything so well.” I explained and she nodded. “So I’ve heard.” She responded and I looked at her confused. “I see the team regularly. Tony told me that you and Y/n aren’t together anymore.” She said and I was shocked that she knew.

“I must say, you’re a fucking idiot.” She said and it shocked me. “What?” I asked confused. “You let go, well pushed away, someone as great as Y/n. I never too you for the cheating type Natasha. I know you’ve been grieving but you were selfish. Grief doesn’t give you a free pass to hurt someone else.” She scolded me and my eyes dropped to my hands in embarrassment. “We weren’t in a good place. We were fighting all the time and it seemed like the right decision.” I defended.

“Well, you’re even more of an idiot than I thought. Y/n was terrified that she was going to lose you. That you’d end up hurt or worse. She did everything that you wanted until it was becoming too much. Then you broke her trust for what? Because she cared too much about you to let you throw away your life as you were doing. You know, Clint didn’t save you for you to fall back to your old habits.” She said sternly. She really wasn’t letting me off the hook here.

“I would do anything to have even one more minute with Clint. Yet you are happy to throw away the one good thing in your life?” She questioned and I could see the hurt in her eyes. “If you want to self-destruct, fine. But breaking someone who worked so hard to build themselves up is unacceptable. Life is short, don’t throw it away.” As she spoke, it was like a movie reel was playing in my head of all the horrible things I had done to Y/n over the last 6 months. Then I saw everything good thing she had ever done for me. I was a coward, and I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to fix what I’ve broken.

I spend the next couple of weeks with Laura. She helped me to get my shit together. Spending time with her and the kids help me to come to terms with losing Clint and finally being in a position I could move on and honour Clint in the way he deserved. I had to make myself better not just for me, but for my wife. I eventually went back home ready to fix things with Y/n. Firstly, I needed to explain to her what really happened that night.

I opened the door to our house, and it struggled to open as there was a pile of post. I picked it all up and was surprised when I saw a key underneath it all. I picked it up and realised it was Y/n’s key. I called out to her, but knew she wasn’t here as her car was gone. I made my way up to our room and saw all of her things were gone. I don’t know what I was expecting. I asked her for a divorce, so of course she wasn’t going to wait for me anymore.

After clearing up a bit, I started making my way through the mail and paused when I got to a large A4 envelope. I opened it and felt my heart complete shatter. It was divorce papers. Fuck, I was too late. I grabbed my keys and made my way to compound. I knew she’d have gone back there to be with Wanda.

Tears were falling down my cheeks the whole way there. I can’t believe that I hurt the one person I love more than life itself. How could I let my grief get to the point I was willing to let her go? When I got to the compound I ran as quickly as I could to find her but was greeted by a sobbing Wanda in the common room. Steve was holding her, and I could tell that he was holding back tears as well.

Then I heard the words that shattered my world. “I’m terrified Steve. My sister can’t be dead.” Wanda sobbed and I couldn’t believe what I had heard. I was speaking before I even knew it. “Y/n is dead?” I asked. They both looked up at me and I could see how angry Wanda was. Her eyes had turned red. She stood up and marched over to me and before I knew it, I was on the floor with a bloodied nose and Wanda stood over me.

Ok I deserved that. Jeeze she packs a hell of a punch. “This is all your fault! You were so selfish that you pushed her to her limit.” Wanda screamed at me. I could hear the pain in her voice. What had happened? Where was Y/n? Was she actually dead? I had all these questions flying around my head, but the words didn’t come out. At my silence, Wanda started to generate an energy ball. I prepared myself for the impact, but it never came.

I looked up and saw Wanda’s hands drop to her side, the energy ball extinguished. She fell to her knees, heart breaking sobs leaving her. I sat up and pulled her towards me. I hated seeing her like this. She fought my comfort but eventually gave in. When she had calmed down, she pulled away, the anger had replaced the sadness that filled her eyes a moment ago. “If anything happens to Y/n, I’ll never forgive you.” She said coldly and walked off.

Steve was looking at me like I’d never seen before. He was disappointed but also hurt. “Steve, where’s Y/n? What is going on?” I asked needing to know what was actually happening. Steve went on to explain what had happened and the guilt was just continuing to grow. “She shut down Nat. It was like she was when she first got here. Her only priorities were missions and protecting Wanda. I know you were grieving, but I never thought you’d ever be able to do what you’ve done to her.” I couldn’t respond to him. I knew exactly what I had done and how unforgivable it was. I just had to hope that Y/n would come back safe to try to fix this.

For the next two weeks we all worked as hard as we could to find Y/n. We attacked numerous Hydra bases in the hopes we’d get more information, but it was useless. The more time that went on the more we realised, it was a high possibility that Hydra didn’t have her and that she had been hurt, or worse, in a fight with them.

Over these weeks, I had slowly been able to gain the others trust back. Wanda still hated me, and I didn’t blame her for that, but we worked well together. We both had the same drive and we understood how the other was feeling. We often would end up in the kitchen late at night talking about what was going on in our heads. “When I lost Pietro, I thought I would never get out of the darkness, but Y/n was there guiding me back to the light. When she started throwing herself into missions, I knew it was only a matter of time before something would happen. I tried everything I could to get to her, but she had shut me out. I failed her.” 

I watched the turmoil on Wanda’s face. I hated that I had caused Y/n to close herself off to the world again. “Wanda, it’s not your fault. I broke her when I promised I never would. She cares for you, and she would hate that you are blaming yourself.” I try to comfort her. She sniffles and nods in acknowledgement. “Why did you do it?” She asked quietly but her eyes were boring into me.

I took a breath. “It’s a shit excuse, but with all the fighting we were doing, I convinced myself that we were coming to an end, and it was best to end it. I was too lost to realise that I was the cause of all the fighting and Y/n was just trying to help. When I came home to find the divorce papers, it felt like my world stopped. I took her for granted thinking that she would always be there no matter how horrible I was.” I explained. I was waiting for another punch or yelling but nothing came.

Wanda looked at me with sad eyes. “Is that why you cheated?” She asked and was quickly shaking my head. “I didn’t cheat. Well not like she thinks. I lied.” I said and I saw a hint of anger in Wanda’s eyes. “You lied about cheating?” She asked clearly not believing me, but I quickly told her to go into my mind and see what really happened that night. When her eyes returned to their normal emerald green she sighed. “I’m terrified that I’m going to lose her, like I lost Clint, but she won’t know that I’m sorry and I truly love her. She’s my light, my life. I can’t live in this world without her.” I started to cry and was shocked when Wanda comforted me.

“You broke her walls down once, maybe you can do it again.” She said calmly. “You really think she’d let me back in?” I asked surprised. “There was one emotion she couldn’t shut off from me the last few weeks, her love for you. It was so strong she couldn’t block it off. That doesn’t mean that she’ll forgive you, but I know she got the papers to protect herself. She thought it would stop the pain, but it didn’t.” She explained and I felt a small bit of hope.

The next morning, I was woken by Steve rushing into my room. “The quinjet is about to land. Y/n is on it.” He said out of breath. I shot out of bed and ran with him to the landing pad. “Do we know how she is?” I asked, wanting to be prepared for what we were about to see. “No, Fury’s team found her but there was no report of her condition.” He shared. We arrived and I stood next to Wanda, taking her hand in mine to give her comfort.

We could hear an argument from the back of the yet. “Y/n, you need to go to the medbay, please just get on the gurney.” We could hear Bruce say frustrated. “I’m fine Bruce, I don’t need a bed. My legs will be able to carry me to the medbay and I’ll let you do what every you need to do.” Hearing her voice was a relief and I could hear Wanda let out a big of a chuckle. As Y/n appeared at the back of jet, I noticed that she was covered in cuts and bruises and her shirt was saturated in blood.

Bruce was walking next to her, helping her as she limped her way over towards us. Wanda was quick to let go of my hand and made her way to Y/n. She was hesitant but still pulled her into a hug. “You scared the shit out of me! Don’t you dare do that again.” She scolded, but Wanda was quick to hug her again. “Here, let me help you.” Steve said, jogging over to help Bruce get Y/n to the medbay.

My heart rate was increasing with every step closer they took. Then our eyes met and for a brief moment it was like I couldn’t breathe. “As if getting shot wasn’t bad enough.” She muttered under her breath, but loud enough that I could hear. I followed as they took her to the medbay and watched as they started to patch her up. Wanda stayed with her whilst the rest of us observed from the waiting area.

Once he was done, Bruce came out to give us an update. “She’s doing good. Bullet wound to her shoulder and abdomen, but both were through and throughs. She did a good job of keeping them clean and stemming the bleeding until she was found. She got some small injuries such as broken ribs, fractured eye socket and a few broken fingers. But they’ll heal over time. She’s lucky.” She explained and we thanked him before making our way into the room. I took my place next to Y/n and couldn’t hold back anymore.

I grabbed her hand between mine. “Thank God you’re ok. I was so scared.” I said through tears. She turned to look at me, but her eyes were empty. Wanda was right, she had closed herself off again. She didn’t respond to me, but she also didn’t take her hand away. “What happened?” Wanda asked from her seat next to Y/n’s bed. “Mission went sideways. I was able to fight them off as best I could before I got hit. Thankfully I was able to get away. But the bleeding was too much so I took shelter in an abandoned hut. I was in and out of consciousness for a while and with no comms I had no way to call for help. Eventually I was found by a hunter and his son. They helped me get in contact with Fury and now I’m here.” She summarised.

Wanda held her hand tighter and ran her hand through Y/n’s hair. “I thought I lost you. Please, you have to be more careful and stop taking so many missions.” She pleaded. We were all surprised when Y/n agreed so easily. The team started to disperse, saying their goodbyes leaving just Wanda, Y/n and me. Wanda looked between us and stood up to leave. “I’ll come back later with some dinner.” She said but Y/n wouldn’t let go of her hand. I could tell they were having a conversation in their minds and obviously Wanda won when Y/n let go of her hand.

I sat in silence for a moment thinking about what to say, but it turns out I didn’t have to. “Have you signed the papers yet?” She asked coldly. Her words were like daggers to my heart. “No, and I don’t plan to.” I responded and she scoffed. “You were the one that wanted a divorce Natasha, just sign them and we can move on.” She retorted, not making eye contact with me once.

I know Y/n more than I know myself. I can always get a pretty good read on her. I thought it would be difficult if she had closed herself off, but I could tell she was in so much physical pain, that she wasn’t able to fight to keep those walls up right now. And I knew she didn’t really want me to sign the papers. She’s trying to protect herself. “I don’t want to move on. I want to make things right with my wife.” I said firmly. “Ex-wife.” She muttered and once again her words hurt. But I deserved it.

“You’re not my ex-wife. We’re not divorced yet and I don’t plan of letting that happen.” I insist. “If you don’t sign them, I’ll go through the courts if I have to. I have grounds for divorce. You cheated on me. My lawyer said that I can proceed with that alone.” She explained and I realised just how much she had done in a short space of time. “Well, I didn’t cheat, your grounds are gone. So how about you just talk to me for a moment before trying to force through a divorce that neither of us want.” I kind of shouted and I saw her flinch slightly.

“Don’t lie Natasha, you’ve already hurt me enough, please just stop.” She said, her voice cracking. “I’m not lying. I did kiss another woman that night. I was drunk and then as she wanted more, I stopped it. I didn’t sleep with her because even in my drunk ass state, I couldn’t do that to you. You don’t know how much I regret even kissing her, let alone then letting you believe that I cheated on you. Wanda read my mind, she can show you that I’m not lying.” I quickly explain hoping she’ll believe me.

“Then why did you say you did? Did you just want to hurt me?” She asked and I hated my response, but I had to be truthful. “At the time yes. I was angry and I thought the only way I could process everything was in my own stupid way. I was frustrated when you would try to help so I just pushed you away and then lied so I could get you to leave me.” I said shamefully, unable to keep eye contact. I could hear her sniffling and it was killing me knowing I was causing her pain all over again.

I then heard shuffling as she started to get out of bed, pulling off the wires attached to her body. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” I said jumping out of my seat to push her back into the bed. “I can’t stay here right now. My own wife just admitted that she wanted to hurt me. When all I had ever done was try to help her through her grief. I took every harsh word you ever said to me because I knew you were hurting, and you didn’t mean it. It was more important that I was there for you. But that night, I looked in your eyes and I could tell you did mean it. My wife, my Natasha, would never have treated ANYONE like that regardless of what she was going through.” She was crying and she was angry, and she was right.

I fight with her a little to make sure she stays in her bed. I can’t have her hurt herself anymore. “Please just stay here. You’ll make your injuries worse. If you want, I’ll leave and give you space.” I tried to bargain with her. She huffed and dropped back on the bed, giving a slight hiss in pain. “I don’t want space. I want to stop feeling all this pain. I want to stop feeling like the world is slowly falling from underneath me. I can’t do this until you let me move on. So just sign the god damn papers.” She almost yelled.

I did this too her. I caused this pain and turmoil by being selfish. But I wasn’t going to give up on her. “I’m not signing the papers.” I insisted once again. “I made you a promise on our wedding day that I would fight for us through anything. I broke that promise which I will never forgive myself for. But I still plan on living by that promise now. There is no one else like you in this world. You make me feel whole and without you there is just darkness. I let myself get lost in grief and used it as an excuse to act out. I know that you still love me. I also know that you are trying to protect yourself because you think that I’ll just end up hurting you again. So let me make one more promise to you that I will never break. I will never stop loving you and I will never hurt you again. Just please give me one more chance.”

I’m pleading to her through my own tears and every minute of silence is slowly killing me. I’m losing her, I’ve fucked up and I’m going to lose her. “Please, what can I do to get you to give me one more chance.” I begged. She sighed but looked up at me. “Go to therapy. You need to process what happened with Clint before you can commit to our marriage again. You need to help yourself before you can help me.” She said and I nodded along in agreement. “Anything for you. I’ll get myself sorted and I’ll be the best wife that you deserve. But you need to make me a promise.” I said, hoping I wasn’t crossing a line.

She raised and eyebrow at me but encouraged me to carry one. “Stop closing yourself off and going on dangerous missions to deal with your own pain. Wanda won’t cope if she loses you and I need my funny, caring, and loving wife.” I explained and she looked down to her lap, but she eventually nodded.

I sat on the side of her bed and pulled her towards me and placed a kiss on her head. “We’ll get through this. I’ll make everything up to you and we’ll be back to where we were. Ready for the rest of our lives together and maybe starting that family we talked about.” I said hesitantly, hoping she still wanted the same things that I did. “I love you, Tasha.” Those simple words brought warmth to my heart, and I started to sob into our embrace before responding “I love you too my Angel.”

[jqmalikhsgib]

quest

seven

warning: mentions of sexual relationships

when you parked your car at the coffee shop emily told you to meet aaron your heart pounded. you had no idea what was coming. all you knew was he was upset.

he had every right to be. you kept his kids from him. you didn’t even let him explain what emily saw. come to think of it, you didn’t even let emily explain.

as soon as you heard her utter the words ‘i saw hotch and haley in his office’ you ended the call. you couldn’t hear anymore. but knowing what you do now, you felt you deserved everything coming to you.

spotting aaron sitting at a table you take a deep breath and head inside. you sit right across from him and give him a small smile.

aaron hands you a cup. “decaf still, right?”

you hum as you take a sip. “thank you.”

the two of you sat in silence for a minute. it felt longer though. you missed him. everything about aaron you missed. you missed the way he smelled, his beautiful smile, the way he made you laugh, the way he listened. you missed his touch.

his touch,

god did you miss the way aaron touched you. rather it would be as simple as holding your hand or the way he would hold you when you fucked.

aaron could be a gentle lover. he would whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he made love to you. tell you how beautiful you were and how good you were to him.

but he was also rough! if he got a little jealous or you two argued about something so minor, he’d fuck you like you meant absolutely nothing to him! and you loved it.

you tried not to think too much about it, but you noticed he has been working out. his muscles were bulging more than before.

you also noticed he still wore his wedding band. something you felt a sense of pride in. despite being divorced he still showed everyone he was taken. even if it weren’t true.

you did the same. you loved aaron. knowing you could never move on from the man that gave you the best years of your life and the three, four babies you adored! nothing would ever change that. if wearing the ring meant you would never be with anyone else again, you were okay with that.

“should we start?”

you didn’t know what to say. just humming as he cleared his throat.

“i made a promise to you i would love you unconditionally. i married you because i meant every single word. and i would never intentionally hurt the woman i love. i broke that vow by having an emotional affair with my ex wife. i hugged her for too long, held her hand, kissed her cheek, even cuddled her from time to time. but i never went as far as sleeping with her. and i wouldn’t have blamed you if you wanted to divorce me after knowing the truth. instead you left. part of me kinda happy you did. foyet was after me and my family. it’s one of the reasons why haley and i reconnected. i needed him to see he could never break this family up. fortunately he didn’t know about you,”

“what do you mean?”

“i made sure the team kept you hidden from the moment we met. i didn’t need anyone to know i had remarried. if i could go back i would have done the same with haley.”

you wanted to hold his hand. you knew he was still grieving. haley was his first everything. completely losing her destroyed him. on top of losing you all in the span of a few months apart. he went through hell for the longest.

“after foyet died i tried finding you. i even tried to get penelope to trace you. she declined. i was very pissed i almost fired her. but she wanted to protect you. i couldn’t be mad at that,”

“aaron, im sorry. i—i thought with me out of the picture you’d be better off. i wanted you to be happy. i knew it would have been a hard decision if i stayed. i didn’t want you to choose me because i was pregnant. i wanted you to choose me because you loved me.”

“they’re my kids too yn! mine! you left knowing this. knowing that you were carrying our babies. i didn’t get to be there for them. i didn’t get to hold you hand while you gave birth, wake up all hours of the morning to feed them or change them, watch them start to crawl, watch them walk for the first time, i miss two birthdays yn!! two. you made that decision for me. you made the decision to leave and take our children with you. i—knowing this, finding this out from jj, i didn’t know how to feel.”

you turned your head guilty. you couldn’t look him in the eyes. you knew as soon as you did the tears would just come pouring out.

the two of you stayed silent for awhile. aaron clears his throat before speaking.

“i promised jack i would bring you home. please don’t break his heart again.” aaron states. he leaves money on the table before leaving you alone with your thoughts.

when you arrived at your sister house you sigh. all you wanted to do was hug your babies. you missed them and needed a little comfort right now.

the moment you saw them playing with their cousins you smiled. they were the cutest. you always wanted them to know their older cousins.

“mamma!” izzy was the first to spot you. she waddles her way towards you.

“izzy!” you copied her.

“miss mamma.” she smiles at you.

“miss you too baby. you and your siblings.”

“up, mummy!” aurora raises her arms.

you gently pick her up. you missed when you use to be able to carry all three of them at the same time. now they were bigger and a lot heavier. you could only pick them up in twos.

you kiss aurora’s cheek as you son walks over to you. he pulls on your shirt. you bend down to his level and set your other two babies down.

“hows my shy boy?”

he shrugs his shoulders. you frown. you really wished he was a little more outgoing. but you couldn’t blame him. you were just as shy growing up. you still are.

you kiss theo’s cheek gently. “mama missed all three of her babies.” you hug your kids tightly. not too tight. but enough.

“mama! you being silly.” isabella laughs.

“oh, am i?!” you start to tickle them. she giggles uncontrollably. you laugh before kissing them on the forehead.

“why don’t you go play with your cousins while i talk to your aunt, okay?”

your three mini me’s walk over to their cousins as you walk towards your sister.

“so, how’d it go?”

you sigh. “as good as it could. he wants me to move back home.”

“you have a life here though. he can’t expect you to pack your bags and move three two year olds!”

“i don’t know abby. i did take two years away from him and the triplets. plus i have a son back home who misses me.”

“well are you two gonna at least work your shit out? because if not then what?”

you shrug. “i gotta at least try, yeah? you didn’t see abby! we both still have our wedding bands on. legally we’re divorced but mentally and emotionally we’re still married. i have to fight for my marriage.”

“i understand little sister. i just worry. with everything that just happened i don’t want you to spiral. plus, i just got you back. i don’t want you to leave.” abigale pouts.

“i know. but ill be back to visit!”

“promise?”

“swear it.”

you two continue to talk. catching up on everything you missed before you headed out to figure out your move.

aaron had came by the next morning to help you pack and to meet the kids for the first time. he was nervous and excited all in one.

he knew what it was like to raise one child for nine years. now he was transitioning from one to four. he still couldn’t believe it.

he was a father of four. four beautiful kids who he adored. he already loved his babies. he couldn’t wait to raise them with you. and hopefully work your shit out to have more in the future.

when he arrived you weren’t shocked at all he had went shopping. he spoiled jack so much you just knew he’d spoil your other three.

“hi.”

“hey. come in! the kids are in their pen.” you opened the door wider to allow him inside. aaron smiles as he walks to the living room.

he got a bit of a glimpse of them the other day. seeing them face to face like this made him gasped. all three, beautiful as ever. you two made the cutest little babies.

“izzy, theo, roe! id like you to meet someone.” the three of them look up at their mom and sees a tall man. they had no idea who he was but he looked friendly.

“who’s that mamma?” izzy was the first to ask.

“remember how i told you daddy was off being a super hero and catching the bad guys? how he’d be back to take us home? well, he’s back. and he’s right there.”

“papa?” theo questioned.

aaron bends down. “that’s right! im your dad little buddy.”

“daddy!” izzy walked over to aaron and hugs him. aaron chuckled as he holds his daughter.

“love daddy.” aurora states.

aaron wanted to shed tears in that moment. but he held himself together and hugged all three of his kids as they walk over to him.

“goin home to brudder?” theodore asked.

“yeah. going home to brother.”

slow burn but not too slow because i don’t have the time for the shit! i want them together!!!!!

but how did you guys like this part? i think it’s cute! had to put the babies in there. they’re adorable

peep aaron already planning to have more kids with the reader!!

if you wanna be added or unadded to the taglist please let me know

taglist:

@ivebeenthearchersstuff @shergoretzxx @slut4ethan @rosiehale23 @madesavage05 @whotfskai

[libby-for-life]

@talesfromawannabejournalist for the question

@lilacwriter07 for making this possible

Read parts 1, 2, and 3 of Theirs for this to make sense.

TW!: Forcibly changing body parts and slight coercing.

Hopefully, this doesn't get deleted.

Adam moaned into the shoulder of Lucifer, who was pounding into him in such a way that it made him see stars. He drooled a bit and Lilith kissed his cheek as she roughly rubbed his dick.

God, it felt so good. So full!

Thirty minutes ago:

Adam sighed as he picked one more pear off the tree. He was hungry and needed to refuel. Lilith was underneath the tree, prepared to catch him if he fell. Adam had tried arguing that he was fully capable of taking care of himself and that he didn't need to be watched.

Lilith argued the last time he was in a tree, he fell. They went around and around in circles for a bit until Lilith finally had enough and spanked his ass a couple times.

Adam finally allowed her to come along. He had to. He tried to get the image of Lilith manhandling and blushed furiously. He climbed down carefully but not before he was pulled into Lilith's arms and hugged against his will.

"Come on!" She said with a happy smile. "Lucifer is waiting for us." Adam couldn't even walk by himself. Lilith and Lucifer wanted to do everything for him and Adam hated it.

He sighed as he was carried to a clearing where the archangel was waiting. He smiled at them both. He kissed Lilith gently on the lips before kissing Adam deeply. The First Woman held him securely as Lucifer deepened the greeting, a battle of dominance the angel won easily.

Adam was breathless by the end of it.

Adam's eyebrows furrowed before he yelped in alarm. A warm and tingling sensation went through his whole body. He felt something just shift inside him. He was feeling hot, dizzy, and overstimulated.

"Oh my, look how fat is!"

"Yes, I made sure that it was even bigger than yours."

Adam groaned as he was placed on the ground. He felt so...wet down there. Like he...pissed himself? No, piss didn't feel like that. It felt slippery and it stuck to his thighs.

Adam felt down there and screamed. There was an opening down there! An opening that wasn't there before! Adam could feel himself panicking as he brought his fingers close to the opening before moaning as they made contact with it.

Dear God, it was sensitive! Bringing his fingers up, he examined the slippery substance coating them. If Adam wasn't mistaken, it looked like what Eve would produce when she was turned on...

Adam paled and tried to look down. Behind his dick, he had a pussy that was oozing arousal. His thighs trembled as he felt multiple pairs of hands on him.

"Oh, Adam. Curious about your new vagina?" Lilith cooed and Adam looked up at Lucifer and his "wife". They were grinning at him like a pair of wolves.

"What did you d-do?" He stuttered out.

"We told you. We're doing something a little different." Adam moaned when he felt fingers enter him. He had never felt this sensitive with anything in his life. He heard chuckling and he was maneuvered into Lucifer's arms. He grinned feral-like at him and Adam moaned when he felt more fingers enter him.

"I love him when he's like this!" Lilith said. "So docile and fun to manhandle."

"So submissive." Lucifer agreed. Those fingers were replaced with something much bigger. Adam drooled, his face dropping onto Lucifer's. More laughter. He was pounded into at a rough pace, his body trembling from the new and stimulated sex.

"I'm going to put a baby into you~." Adam's eyes widened and he blushed furiously at those words. Lucifer went faster and spilled his seed into him, coating his insides with his seed. Did he want a baby? It was...so hard to think.

Adam just groaned, tired and so very full. He squealed when Lucifer started moving again.

"No, no, no! Too much! T-too much!" Adam yelled through tears as he felt the dick move again. "Please!" He begged while the two holding him chuckled. "Come on, Adam. We need Lilith to have a turn."

"You aren't the only one who had body parts changed." Lilith purred. What?

Three months later:

Adam could barely walk. Not that he ever did. Lucifer and Lilith would never let him. They made sure that he was comfortable and also dependent on them alone during his pregnancy.

Adam swallowed thickly. He was pregnant. It was so hard for him to believe but the evidence was staring right at him. His swollen stomach, chest that had grown to accommodate milk, and the constant morning sickness were all pretty good indicators.

Adam wished he had time to process it all, but he was never given a moments peace. A hand gently rubbed his belly causing him to moan.

"Hm~. You've gotten bigger," Lucifer commented. Adam was very sensitive to everything and Lucifer knew it.

"I can't wait until you grow bigger!" Lucifer said while Adam sighed. He couldn't fight it. Heaven knows he tried. He's just so tired....besides, not doing anything isn't too bad.

He was always lazy by nature.

As Adam dozed off, he felt a kiss on his cheek. "Rest, Adam. We've got you." Lilith whispered.

[adaptacy]

Hi! Since requests are open I wanted to suggest a second part to the fic you wrote about Johnny escaping from prison and tracking you down, obviously sexually frustrated, missing the touch of his partner and being treated with basic human decency. It would be so cool if you could make it angsty too 🥲

hiiii anon! here you go :)

no smut here but rough treatment/handling and angst.

It was gentle, but it was still a push. A push away. He remained in the same spot, though his head recoiled, and he looked down at you, eyes narrowed, irritated with your choice. "Why?" He hissed.

"It's been twelve years. You're a fugitive, Johnny. I- I have a son. We can't be doing this," you stammer, shaking your head as you keep him away with a palm against his chest. "I'm sorry."

"None of that shit matters. C'mon, darlin'. I've missed you," he stressed, pushing back against your hand and nearing your lips again, but you pulled away.

"I'm serious. I'm sorry, maybe I led you on, but... I never intended to- Can't you see? Don't you... see the problem?" You asked, your voice light, trying to remain unaccusatory. You understood him to an extent; you'd been able to make a life for yourself, and he'd been nothing but a spectator to the outside world. You were living a completely different story from his. And your paths had crossed in the past, but they weren't meant to cross again.

Hell, he was supposed to be in jail. Both of you knew that very well. Every day that he was out may be his last day before the cops found him again. You couldn't just cling onto a fading memory like that. Never knowing when your kiss may be the last, never knowing how long he was going to be in your life. That was way too much stress, even if some part of you did still love him.

You'd tried loving others. Hell, you'd married one of them. Had a kid. But it wasn't the same. Nothing ever came close to what you and Johnny had all those years ago. And when the marriage fell through, he conveniently showed up a few months later. A possibility you never could've even dreamed of being real. And you dreamed about him quite often.

With a quiet sigh, you pushed him off of you and tried to step out of the way, but he grabbed the middle of your shirt and tugged you backwards, pushing you against the brick wall of the alley the two of you were in. He was tipsy, but he wasn't drunk enough to accidentally be rough. He was doing it on purpose. "Johnny, I'm not doing this."

"Just fuckin' explain it to me again. Tell me why," he demanded, looming over you, his tone nothing short of menacing.

"I have a family."

"No, you have a kid. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"I have a life- I can't go housing a fugitive," you argued.

"I got my own place. You ain't gotta house shit."

"I hardly even know you, it's been forever," you pushed.

"So? We'll get to know each other again."

"You're dangerous, Johnny!" You snapped, heart picking up it's pace as you shook your head at him. His expression fell, his head retracting a few inches. "You killed people. Broke out of prison. You-" You huffed, finding your voice shaky despite trying your best to remain calm. "You're bad news," you whispered.

There was silence on Johnny's end, his chest rising and falling with a sort of determination as if his anger was slowly bubbling up. "What the hell did you just say to me?"

"Please, just... let me go. I shouldn't have encouraged this, I'm sorry, Johnny. I think it's best if we part-"

"No. What the fuck did you just say to me?" He snarled, and you flinched, your breath caught in your throat. His grip on your shirt tightened, and he pushed his fist harsher into your chest, his breaths coming out in rough bouts. "You didn't give a shit about any of that twelve years ago. That husband of yours fuck you that good, huh? Think you're too good for someone like me now? Think you're gonna be a good little suburban wife who can't be caught with a criminal like me?"

"I didn't say any of that. And, god, no- He's an ex, for one, and-"

"Listen, little miss picket fence, I don't give a shit about your new life. Whether yer believin' you changed, whether you think I'm nothin' more than a fugitive, it-" Johnny huffed, looking down, some unfamiliar emotion crossing over his eyes. "It don't change what we had. You wanna go denyin' that?"

"Johnny, that was twelve years ago. You-"

"It don't matter. None of it fuckin' matters. Ain't you able to see that? You wouldn't have given me the time of day if you didn't miss me."

"Of course I missed you. But you're insane if you think that just... randomly showing up as a goddamn jailbird escapee is going to suddenly have me back on my knees, you need to have a reality check. Please understand," you begged, scoffing at his inability to see clearly.

"That's all I am to you now, huh?"

"What?"

"You were the only thing I thought about in those walls. The only thing encouragin' me to break out. The only thing keepin' me fightin' back against the rat bastards who went around pickin' fights. You think you're just gonna say no?" He scoffed, looking back up as he searched your eyes for something. What exactly, you weren't sure. "Ain't you scared, pumpkin? You think yer safe from me?"

You frowned, lifting a hand and slapping him square across the face, staring him dead in the eyes. His head turned at the impact, and he stared down the alley for a few moments. "I know I am. Get the fuck off of me, Sawyer."

"The hell'd you just call me?" Johnny finally returned his sights to you, and he released your shirt just to slide his hand up to your throat, tightening his fingers around it and forcing your head back.

"Get. Off," you repeated, stern despite how incredibly intimidated you were. He could very well snap your neck like it was nothing, and he had no reason not to; he was already on the run, it wasn't like crimes were something he was scared of. Especially not murder.

"You think you can just talk to me however the hell you want? You think I won't kill you?" He growled, and you grabbed at his arm as he squeezed even more, causing genuine difficulty breathing. As you strained for an inhale, he leaned down, his mouth right next to your ear, his every huff making you flinch. "I was made for you. You're s'posed to be mine. Ain't that what you said? Promised me you'd be mine forever. I'm just comin' to claim my property."

"I'm not- an object, Johnny," you choked, but he hardly seemed convinced. "I said that because I was young, and dumb. And I was in love," you strained, squeezing at his arm. "I don't love you anymore, Johnny."

He stared for a moment, and then surprisingly, released you. You coughed, rubbing your throat where he'd grabbed you, breathing heavily. You never realized you could take breathing for granted, but you certainly had.

"You left. You killed. And clearly, you haven't changed," you muttered, taking in a deep breath as you panted. "I thought you didn't belong in prison. But I read about what you did. I... I guess I thought you'd changed. Thought you'd learned your lesson. But you're still as aggressive as ever."

"Sweetpea, I-"

"Don't. You just tried to kill me. Don't- Just... I'm going to go. I don't want to see you again. Especially not around my kid," you demanded, and his mouth hung slightly open, some apologetic rage behind his eyes.

But he didn't say anything else. Just... let you walk away.

Truth be told, he would've killed you. You knew that. He had the means to, had the reasons to.

Why he didn't, you had no clue.

[schrijverr]

Superstition

Hen Wilson week 2025, Day 3: Superstition

During the fool moon, Howie quiet curses him and Hen for their shift. This results in an evening full of weird calls, ending with a kid stuck in a chimney. Prompts by @henwilsonweek

On ao3.

Ships: minor henren mention

Warnings: the shittiness of pre-canon 118

~~~

“Hey, Hen?” Howie breaks the silence unprompted, chewing on a doughnut as they sit in the ambulance. It’s a full moon and everyone has split up to answer to as many calls. Hen is glad to be stuck with Howie instead of someone else even if it’s probably because Gerrard still hates them.

“Yeah?” she replies curiously, since this is a slow moment and on a chaotic night like this – though it has been pretty slow the whole time all things considered – and Howie’s random thoughts can be very entertaining.

“Do you think that if we invoked the q-word curse, would it cancel out the full moon or make it worse?” he asks.

“Huh,” Hen says as she thinks about it for a moment. Then she decides: “I don’t think it works like that.”

“I mean, how do you know that. We won’t really know until we try, right?” Howie argues. “I would like to have a way to have better full moon shifts, don’t you?”

“No! Nu-uh, you’re not involving me in this, don’t you know what karma is? No. I’m not risking my life like that,” Hen protests immediately. She know she is a little superstitious, but it’s better to be safe than sorry in her opinion.

Howie considers it for a moment as he chews on his last bite of his doughnut. He smartly swallows it, before saying: “Well, then I say, me specifically, that it’s been quiet for a full moon.”

Hen actually gasps when he says that and the both hold their breath.

For a moment, nothing happens. Cautiously they unclench all their muscles and Howie grins: “Hey, guess it did work! A jinx cancels out a jinx!” which naturally means that their radio goes the second he says that.

“You were saying?” Hen tells him judgmentally as she starts the ambulance up and turns on the sirens as she peels out of the parking lot.

“Oh come on, it was worth a try,” Howie complains.

“I wasn’t supposed to get involved in your dumbass idea. I had nothing to do with this,” Hen immediately argues back.

“How was I supposed to know it would hit you too! I specifically said it was about me,” Howie exclaims.

“Still,” Hen pouts. She did not ask for a jinxed shift, especially not a full moon jinxed shift. She just wanted to have an as easy shift as possible and go home to her wife and son, not run around town like a chicken without a head!

Sadly, the universe does not listen to requests like that and her and Howie spend all night scrambling from one emergency to the next. The only silver lining is that most of them are ridiculous not very intense or requiring a lot of manpower, so it’s mostly her and her best friend having one of the weirdest nights of their lives to date.

Despite the hectic-ness of it all, Hen is actually having a lot of fun. Howie has that effect on her. It’s not that she’s too serious, but she has always had to be professional to be respected. With Howie she can be silly and he won’t question how competent she is. It’s nice.

Howie has always just accepted her, whether it was as a firefighter, a paramedic, or a giant lesbian. He never cared, just acknowledged that that was what she was and moved on.

So, yeah, running around, because of his stupidity, isn’t the worst. It’s just a tiring shift, not a rough or unpleasant shift for them. In a way, the jinx could have been a lot worse.

That is until one of the calls closer to the end of their shift.

They arrive at the house first, the others already on their way from another part of town with the ladder truck. It’s a normal, unassuming house in the suburb… were it not for the crying woman that meets them outside.

Howie takes lead for now, since he is the senior worker between them and Gerrard would take less offense with that. So he speaks to the woman first: “Ma’am, we got a call there was a child stuck somewhere?”

“Yeah, my son, Mica,” the woman cries. “I don’t know what he was thinking. I went to check on him after I went to pee and he was gone, then I heard his muffled voice in the wall.”

At the words, Howie shares a look with Hen, that’s not something you hear every day. Howie asks: “Can you show us?”

“Of course,” the woman says, leading them inside. She shows them in, babbling about how her husband is away on a business trip and that Mica is six years old, but an adventurous little rascal, and shouldn’t there be more people?

Hen ensures her that more people are on their way, just as she opens the door to a room that definitely belongs to a six year old. Though, interestingly, the window is open. She asks the woman: “Was the window open when you went to check on Mica?”

“Yes. Oh god, you don’t think he’s been taken, do you?” the woman asks horrified.

“No, no,” Hen quickly assures her. The woman heard him, more likely that he is still stuck. The question just is where and this opens up more routes to how they got there.

“Mica is still here,” Howie says, his ear against a part of the wall. “I can hear him.”

Hen looks to where Howie is listening, then leans out the window, her gut feeling telling her she should look there. As she looks out over the roof, she says: “And I think I know how he got there and what he’s stuck in.”

Howie joins her at the windowsill, spotting the same chimney she had. From the open window it would be easy to get up there, especially for a kid. She asks: “What are we going to do now? Wait for the others to show up? I mean, we need equipment for that.”

“Yeah, kind of,” Howie says, glancing to the woman before lowering his voice, “but Mica’s breathing sounds weird and I want his vitals as quick as possible.”

“Well, then we go up to him,” Hen instantly says, because she will back his play and trust his expertise just like he would with her.

They tell the woman to go outside and wait for the firetruck to direct towards the room again. The two of them probably should wait for harnesses, but there is a six year old child in danger, they don’t have time for waiting. So, together they climb up to the chimney to look down and check.

Mica’s feet are sticking up, but are way down. How he’d gotten in so far, they don’t know, not to mention why. They call out to him, telling him they’re there to help, before trying to reach out and check on his pulse. Both their arms are too short to reach him. As he is hanging in the chimney, Howie curses: “How did he get in so deep?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like how his voice sounded,” Hen replies. “I want him out of there, make sure his vitals aren’t dropping with the way he’s out of breath. His lungs could be constricted in there.”

“You’re right, I’m going in,” Howie says.

“You’re going in?” Hen repeats incredulously.

“Yeah, I’m going in. I think I can fit some part of the way down, enough to reach him. Maybe we can even get him back up like that, or I could get a stethoscope up his back or something to check,” Howie explains.

Hen seems skeptical, but she also wants Mica to be okay and if Howie wants to go down there, she isn’t stopping him. So she just says: “Alright, what do you want me to do?”

“Just be on stand by and maybe pull me back out,” Howie grins.

“Will do,” Hen promises.

Soon, Howie has wormed himself halfway into the chimney, legs still sticking out, almost as if he’s bending down into it. He has managed to reach Mica’s ankle, finding stable enough vitals, even though his breathing definitely can use help and he should be right side up as soon as possible. The poor kid had apparently just wanted to know what it was like to be Santa, which is an awkward conversation for his mom to have with him.

By that point, Gerrard and the others have arrived. Hen goes to catch them up to speed, while Howie goes to investigate how Mica is stuck.

Gerrard is very much not pleased with them and Hen is sure they will hear all about how horrible they are later, but for now she takes some schadenfreude in how they apparently have had as busy a shift as her and Howie.

Tommy wants to bash in the wall to get Mica out, but Howie comes over the radio that the construction of the chimney will allow him got get Mica out without them having to bash in a wall and potentially ax a child in the stomach. Someone just get him the lube.

So, up Tommy goes with copious amounts of lube, while Sal and Hen wait at the hearth to receive Mica, which is a bit too similar to helping people give birth for Hen’s taste, but whatever. If it works, it works.

She doesn’t know how much lube Tommy ends up carrying up there (though she does know the homophobic jokes Sal can make about it), however, when Mica finally comes sliding down the chimney for them to catch.

The woman is beside herself with joy as Hen checks Mica over to see if he’s okay. He is lightheaded and he has some bruising, but nothing is cracked or broken and his breathing returns back to normal the second he is right side up and out of the tight space.

At that point, Tommy comes down. Alone.

“Where’s Han?” Gerrard barks.

Tommy looks unsure for a second, then says: “Uh, stuck, sir.”

“Stuck?”

“Yeah, in the chimney. I can’t get him out.”

Sal comments: “But he’s covered in lube!”

Hen doesn’t waste time talking about it. Howie needs her and she is going to be there to get him out of this trap of his own making. Indeed Howie is stuck in the chimney, wiggling to no avail. “Howie?” she asks, putting a hand on his back to calm him, he could scrape himself up if he goes on like that.

“Uh, hi, Hen,” Howie replies, sounding out of breath. “I guess going in the chimney wasn’t my best idea, huh?”

“Maybe not,” Hen laughs. “But we’re going to get you out. Can you move?”

“No, not really,” Howie calls back, while at that point Tommy and Sal also join her up there.

The three of them tug and pull on Howie for what feels like forever as more and more lube gets poured over him in an attempt to get him out. They cut off a lot of his gear, hoping to slim down his bulk, but it seems like Howie isn’t going anywhere.

In the end, they have to break the chimney to get him out, bring up some crow bars and saws to cut him out of there. Hen is pretty sure that this is the last time Howie will every even dare to play with any jinxes, because he definitely called this down on himself.

When he is finally out of there, they all take a deep breath of relief. Howie is heaving deep breaths, covered in lube and soot as well as in torn up clothes. Hen puts down her saw and lightly kicks him in the side, saying: “Let’s get you to a shower, Mr. Chimney.”

~~

A/N:

Hen and Chimney friendship as well as Chimney getting his name bc he got stuck in a Chimney will always be special to me <3

Maybe not as Hen-centric as it should be for Hen Wilson week, but the two of them are just too fun and I loved writing this, so who cares xp, she is still prominent

[creedslove]

YOU’RE SO SWEET I SWEAR😭😭 don’t worry if it takes time, take all the time you need ❤️❤️🫶🏻 I was thinking maybe some angsty angst where Javier and reader are married, they got married when they were younger and like reader is pretty much younger than him (don’t worry if you don’t want to add this age gap particular) and they are like on a rough patch right now (if you want reader’s age might be one of the problem, like they’ve fought and he called her immature) and I don’t know this might be a prompt then you can decide if giving them a happy ending where they like work it out or (we want to hurt) giving them a no happy ending where they divorce or something like that. Sorry if it’s maybe too specific feel free to do whatever you want with it and change it however you please and add whatever you like🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 love u love u ❤️❤️

Javier Peña x f!reader

A/N: lovely, my darling 💕

• Marriages are hard; and you learned that the hard way: by being in a constant spiral of fights and arguments with your husband Javier

• if someone had told you you two would be fighting like cats and dogs, you would've laughed at their faces, but now? it was like you didn't even recognized him anymore

• perhaps it was because you two got married too early, or maybe too fast, you didn't know... but at the time it felt so impossible to resist and stay away from each other

• it was like you needed him around and he needed you too, you were inseparable and you couldn't stay away from each other

• so you tied the knot and lived a pretty long and satisfying honeymoon phase until you realized marriages were... hard

• Javier was a prince... whenever he wasn't too caught up at work, because then nothing existed but his duty

• he knew he shouldn't be like that, he knew that work wasn't everything at all, but he was like that, and you knew about it before you got married so he figured you would have to accept it

• but you on the other hand, weren't happy about it at all... all you wanted was more attention from your husband, perhaps he could take you on a date like he did before

• but Javi was exhausted, he was mentally, physically drained and he didn't have energy to engage in things he usually did and that reflected on your marriage

• you began feeling unnerving when you realized Javi didn't even touch you anymore and that had nothing to do with the desire he felt for you, it was just because he was so tired all the time

• but you didn't know that and it made you get insecure about yourself at first and then about your relationship

• it all escalated to one night when you climbed his lap and tried kissing him but he asked you to stop because he wasn't in the mood and suddenly you two were arguing like you'd never done it before

"The problem is that you are fucking too immature!!"

"Yeah? What am I supposed to think? You used to be a manwhore, after prostitutes all the time and now you don't even touch your wife anymore?"

• and after that, judging by the deafening silence spread around the room you knew you had said the wrong thing, but it was too late to take it back

"That's all you think of me, right?"

• and with that Javier left the house, slamming the door behind him, needing to calm down the anger

• and you cried yourself to sleep, not knowing where your marriage was going

____

[eldritch-elrics]

ok continuing from my tags on the "what does your blorbo think of gay sex" poll. here's what i'm thinking about wrt james sunderland. it's my blog so i can put whatever i want on here so i'm just going to talk about this now.

first of all i've only played sh1&2, so if james turns up in other games i may change my opinion... well anyway

so normally when i think about characters i like, i default to them being bi because that is fun, but in the case of james, i think he is straight. i don't think this is something he's thought much about, because he is not a guy who thinks much about his sexuality. all that shit is repressed as hell. we know this. moving on

all that being said, i don't think james would be actively opposed to the idea of gay sex. it's just not something he would consider at all, under normal circumstances (/even if he didn't have a wife). james is, however, absolutely not in normal circumstances by the time we meet him. does this mean there is a plausible scenario involving james and gay sex?

you may have guessed where i'm going with this. the real question is: could pyramid head represent repressed homosexuality? (well, bisexuality?) pyramid head sure is juggling a bunch of symbolism, and ymmv on the specifics of that symbolism, beyond the obvious (that he represents the judgement & punishment james feels he deserves). it's pretty easy to argue that he also represents james's repressed sexuality as a whole (given the mannequin cutscene, the symbolic penetration of maria, you know what i mean). in both of these instances, he's also trying to cut away distractions so that james can get to his goal & to his final realization with clearer eyes. why does he do that in such a sexually charged way, though? uh... idk. let's see if i come up with an answer by the end of this post

you've also got the "is pyramid head meant to be sexy" question. well... he is definitely a muscular guy. his particular design on the ps2 version makes it kind of difficult to tell where his clothes and skin begin & end. i would argue this makes him less an object of desire and moreso something like a sexual rival for james. like - this sort of sexual hypermasculinity that james sees himself as distant from or weaker than. maybe he represents james's fear that his own instincts and his own wants from his relationships (not necessarily sexual wants) are ultimately predatory or harmful for the people he loves. (yay i did come up with an answer!) (also bookmarking this thought as i want to expand on it in another, better post)

coming back to the central (?) question of this essay (??). could james fuck pyramid head? is there enough thematic precedent for it? if he did... under what circumstances would that even make sense? it feels pretty clear to me that this would have to be an extension of a sex-as-punishment complex - james manifests pyramid head (sexual edition) to put him (james) in his place / establish dominance over him, thus validating his own feelings of weakness/helplessness and lack of control over things that happen in his relationships.

if pyramid head's whole goal is to get james to recognize his guilt about mary, though... i'm not sure. it feels like james would go into this whole thing as a distraction (but in a different way than how maria is a distraction - i legitimately do not think james would view sex with pyramid head as "real sex" ie. something that would count as cheating on mary). pyramid head, though... i think there's something to be said about the raw and tactile nature of sex. it could be kinda like their first fight: they rough each other up, and then PH leaves. PH would refuse to be anything permanent, and just leave james with lots of questions about what the hell he's doing here.

idk. many questions. it's very late and idk how much sense this makes. maybe i'll write a fanfic about this or something lmao

[ladylooch]

Since Emma and Nico are siblings that means Emma has a accent. Timo is always getting turned on by her voice especially when their arguing cause her accent gets thicker and sexier.

A/N: I have been waiting for this!!!!! I am so happy you sent this in! I should also point out, it's implied that Emma and Timo are speaking Swiss German to each other when they're speaking. Obviously, no one wants to read my badly translated work from Google Translate, so use your imagination!

Emma is rushing around the kitchen, doing last minute clean up before the entire New Jersey Devils team begins to arrive. They are hosting an end of the year party at their brand new house. The kitchen is her dream come true. She needs it completely spotless so she can share all the shiny features and accents with the rest of the WAGS. She’s so happy to be in her event element in their new space.

Emma swipes at Lio’s latest used bottle on the counter, twisting the cap off and turning the sink on to rinse it out. The water is scalding. She quickly washes it, then moves to the dishwasher to toss it in there. She grabs the top rack, immediately getting irritated at seeing the clean dishes still in there from this morning. The dishes her husband insisted he would take care of when he got home from practice six hours ago. Instead, they are still here, not back in their appropriate places in the kitchen. 

“Timo!” Emma yells towards the stairs. She rubs at the pulsing in the center of her forehead awaiting his response.

“Yeah?” 

“Come downstairs please.” 

Emma stands next to the open dishwasher with her arms crossed when her husband walks in, still fidgeting with his already perfect hair. Her hand does a sweeping gesture towards the dishes.

“I was just about to do that.”

“No you weren’t. You were going to keep messing with your damn outfit and presentation when I asked you to do this hours ago. This is why I ask you to do things before practice. After practice, I get “couch” Timo .” She cocks her head to the side at him. He chuckles. Couch Timo is his own nickname for who he becomes after putting in work on the ice. 

“I’m here now. I’ll do it.”

“No. It’s fine. It is obviously too much work for you.” She turns back to the dishes.

“Why are you so upset? I’m literally right here. I’ll do it.”

“Because I asked you to do this way earlier! Now people will arrive any minute and you’ll be standing here unloading the dishwasher!” Her words are rapid, Swiss German missiles. 

“Oh god! They’ll know we have clean dishes!” Timo mocks his wife, laughing at the way she scrunches her mouth at him. She looks so sexy, all squinty and mad, he can’t help himself.

“You are such a shit right now.” She growls, turning back towards the dishes. She slams each of Lio’s bottles on the counter as she unloads them. She begins muttering to herself under her breath. Timo can’t pick all the words up, but he does pick up her thickening, French-influenced accent. His downfall. He doesn’t enjoy her being upset, but damn does he love the way their language sounds from her lips when she is. Hard to understand at times, but ultimately, he’s already moving on to how to get her naked.

Timo leans with his butt against the counter across the kitchen from her.

“Em.” He murmurs as her muttering heightens into words he understands like “inconsiderate” and “pretty boy”. Emma glares at him. Timo stretches an easy smile on his lips after giving them a once-over with his tongue. Her brown eyes scrunch tighter.

“No.” Emma holds her finger up as he starts to walk across the kitchen to her. “Do not think you’re going to touch me and make this better.”

“What if I touch you a lot?” He leans down, whispering close to her mouth. Their eyes wander along each other’s features. The tension is high, both sexual and general. He steps forward again, making Emma’s head fall back. “Where do you want me to touch you tonight?” His voice is low- rough and passionate. Emma’s brown eyes close in a slow blink.

“I want you to do what you say you’re going to do.” She’s weaker now.

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“And that’s not what we are talking about.”

“I’m going to unload the dishwasher, sweetheart. And then I’m going to touch you. I want you to tell me where.” Emma curls her hands together, manicured nails pinching into her palms to avoid grabbing his hips. She can feel the hot waves of his body temperature flowing off his frame. They lap at her cheeks and chest, spreading red along her pale skin. 

“We don’t have time.”

“Baby, we don’t have to let them in until we’re done. That’s the great thing about it being our house.” His hands on her hips slide her away from the dishwasher. He takes the cup out of her hand, putting it into the cabinet in front of him.

“I want this to be a good night.” She sighs, touching his back with her forehead. 

“You planned this. Of course it’s going to be a good night.” He gestures to the catered food, the chilled drinks, the soft music that Emma spent weeks curating on Spotify. “All you need now is to release some pre-event stress.” Emma chuckles, spinning herself to stand between him and the dishwasher again. 

“I’m going to go upstairs and get started while you finish that.”

“Wait, what, no! Don’t start without me!” Timo starts to throw things onto the counter faster. 

“Should of unloaded the dishwasher earlier, huh?” Emma quips over her shoulder as she pads quietly up the stairs to their room.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Anon Advice Asks - February 16

who was anon (new), 6 anon, tired anon, lost anon, spikes anon (new), mocks anon, parrot (🦜) anon (new), segment anon (new), perchance anon

Who was anon

Hi! I don't know if you remember (I don't remember exactly when and I didn't bother to go looking) but I'm the one that sent the story about my little siblings reading Harry Potter and asking me about the marauders?

Anyway follow up story

I took my younger brother to a used book store and they have those kids biographies? Called "who was..." and then there's different names? Well he doesn't really... know all the stuff about jkr? Just cause he's young and honestly my parents aren't into Harry Potter so I don't think they know anything about that. Anyway he was like Look! They have the Harry Potter lady! And I was like ehhhhh how bout no and helped him find someone else.

I guess that's not very funny now that I've written it down but at the time it made me giggle. Idk

Hahahaha no that makes me laugh too. Like "Uhhhhh how about not?"

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6 anon

The best way to eat grapes is frozen and I stand by that.

Anyways I started a new book yesterday. It's called Hell Followed With Us by Andrew Joseph White. It's so good and the cover art is amazing!!

And MIFA states are in 2 days!! I am very excited, and I have a concert tonight and I'm first chair!!

Life is going pretty well right now, so enjoy some grapes 🍇 (they are frozen)-6 anon

OMG my wife eats frozen grapes too!

Good luck at states...if my math is right, I think they're today! I hope it's going amazing!!! Let me know!

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Tired Anon

Hi Cas, tired anon here, it's definitely been a rough few weeks 😅 to answer one of your questions, I haven't ever been in a situation where I need to confront my mom so I have no idea if she'd be receptive. I've argued back (mildly, and very very quietly) on some occasions and she just gets defensive and doubles down on whatever reason she has, or she just resorts to "well because I pay the mortgage" which I don't think is a very valid argument. In either case, I spoke to my step sister about all of this and we had a very long heart-to-heart for about 2 hours where I realized a lot about my mother that I'm not really sure I wanted to know lol. She also gave me the perspective that if I started arguing back or defending them, it would put my mom in a worse mood and would end up making everyone's lives worse, which I completely agree with. As it turns out, the insurance we have now actually DOES cover therapy (yay!), so I'm going to look into it. As of right now, I'm fine, I'm just pretending like everything is normal and spending a lot more time out of the house than I used to, and I'm trying to get in to working out as a sort of outlet until everything fixes itself 😮‍💨

Hi <3 I'm so sorry you've had to realize some things about your mom. I feel like that happens to so many people and it's the absolute worst feeling to realize your parents aren't the people you wish they could be. I'm sending you so much love as you try to process that.

I'm glad you can look into therapy! I hope you're able to find someone helpful! Keep me updated if you want <3

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Lost anon

HI

this is Lost Anon, it’s been a minute. I just wanted to give you some updates.

My teacher ended up taking the assignment, I got full marks and finished the semester with an A.

I worked things out with my friends, we’re doing a lot better on communication stuff now.

I’m doing generally better too, I feel way less stressed than I did previously and I’m over all doing pretty great.

I hope you had a wonderful new year, and I wish you many many good days.

-Lost Anon

Ahhh I'm so glad things are better! That makes me so happy to hear! I'm wishing you a wonderful year as well, but if you ever need anything, you know where to find me!

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Spikes Anon

hi so I have a problem.

I have a large friend group, right, and all of us are pretty comfortable with each other so we're fine hugging, touching, we even kiss each other's cheeks like we're great.

problem is for me specifically, I don't mind physical touch but there's a limit, like when one person is constantly without permission touching me then it pisses me off and makes me feel all weird and scratchy inside like I want to jump out of my skin it's terrible and I hate it.

so lately, one of my friends has become extremely touchy, putting their hands on my face, hugging me randomly, holding my arm, pulling me towards them, and their hands are cold and it makes it worse because I hate cold hands on me it's just...ugh, you know

but there's no way to tell them that without hurting them because they're really sensitive, and I don't wanna do tat but also I can't take it anymore, I have to keep making excuses to pull away and I'm genuinely seconds away from slapping them across the face because I can't control it it just spikes this unnatural irritating feeling and it's painful, and I get mad and I don't wanna hurt their feelings but I can't not say anything. I'm scared if I tell any of my other friends they'll say I'm being mean and dramatic and get mad at me bc they won't understand

so yeah if you have any advice that's be really helpful

Hi <3

I definitely understand where you're coming from on this one. Here's the thing: if you don't say something, it definitely could turn out bad. Because you could get overwhelmed and say something in the moment that actually is hurtful, you know? Not saying you want to be hurtful, but I know when I get overwhelmed I can sometimes say hurtful things I don't mean.

You have a right to set boundaries. So you need to sit this friend down alone and calmly explain that sometimes you get overwhelmed and it has NOTHING to do with them, but sometimes you need space and you're going to ask for it. You can say you care and you love hugging them most of the time, but occasionally you need space.

You can be gentle but firm and then- and this is important- if the friend does get sad, just repeat that its not them and it has nothign to do with how you feel about them, but youre not changing your mind.

Setting boundaries isn't mean and you should never feel guilty for doing that. Also, it's good to start getting in the habit of doing this now because, god forbid if someone in the future is trying to do something more inappropriate that you don't like, you'll know how to firmly say no.

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Mocks anon

hey it's mocks anon

I have a maths assessment tomorrow. It's basically going to be judging what level of exam I take the week after and if I don't get the highest mark, my parents are going to freak

and I'm scared, I don't know what to do I've studied but I'm not good at maths and I always get stressed and mess up even if I know what I'm meant to do

and the thing is, whenever I know I have something stressful coming up, this weird feeling comes up in my chest. like I have a black hole of sorrow, fear, hopelessness, burnout, and pure genuine stress stuck there. and it doesn't go away; idk how to describe it but I just have this ugly terrifying feeling and I hate it so much but I can't do anything about it. It starts up even a month before the event and stays for a long time after even if it was successful, like it's indefinite and very, very problematic because it makes me focus less, and i have it right now and it hurts

anyway sorry for ranting, I'm just scared and tired and I don't even know.

Hi <3

I hope the exam went okay! Remember that no matter what your parents say, you are worth more than one exam score.

It sounds like you get really anxious when it comes to things like these. Are you able to seek out therapy to maybe work on some coping strategies when you feel like this? I know this feeling can be like....so overwhelming it can be almost debilitating and you deserve to be able to be happy, even during stressful times!

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Parrot Anon

Hi <3

I just want to say that the comments people are making about your eating are super inappropriate and mean, and you absolutely have a right to be upset about them. Also...like who wouldn't have a strained relationship with food after all of that?

Honestly, as someone who has struggled with food their entire life, I think it's REALLY hard to deal with it alone. I think it's the type of thing you need therapy for. I'd suggest, if you can, looking for a therapist who specializes in EDs. Not because I think you have an ED, but because other untrained therapists might accidentally say something triggering.

Having a healthy relationship with food is a psychological thing imo, so you have to go at it from that perspective.

Sending love!

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Segment anon

Hi!

Wow, this is definitely eerie. "Living waterfall" really got me. I would just add some details about how the narrator is physically feeling. Like do they feel cold? Have goosebumps? Etc.

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Perchance Anon

Hi it’s perchance anon. (That’s so crazy that I’ve got a name!) So I’ve been thinking it over and maybe I’m somewhere under the non-binary umbrella. I’m really having a hard time finding anything to read online that could be helpful at all. It weird because it’s not that I hate being a girl, it’s great most of the time, but there are definitely times where I find myself wishing I could not be a woman? Even during normal situations where there’s not some ‘downside’ of being a woman going on. Like I’m thinking about it and most of the time I don’t think of myself as a woman, like sure I am but like I wouldn’t care if someone saw me as something else either? Idk if that’s just me being secure in myself or if this is something. I’m not really sure and I know you probably have just as much clue as what’s going on in my as I do but if there’s any resources you could point me to that might help me figure this out that would be so helpful. Thank you!

Hi!

Maybe look at this website that lists different identities under the nonbinary umbrella? You can see if any of them shout out to you!