#otp: suspenders & pens

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Viva la Revolución

Ship: Suspenders & Pens

A/N: These kids are gonna make Rafa go even grayer

Rafael and Nic sat expectantly on the couch, waiting for the twins. They told their parents they had something they wanted to talk about, and neither had the faintest idea why. Finally the twins came bounding down the stairs, standing in front of the fireplace. They both had small stacks of notecards in their hands.

“Mami, Papi, thank you for coming,” began Lina.

“As you know, we don’t ask for much,” Beth added. “But we’ve had a meeting and made a joint decision for our birthday.”

“Oh?” Nic raised a brow as she and Rafael exchanged a look. “What is this decision?”

“We would like a tv in our room as an early birthday present,” Lina explained.

“And we have a list of reasons why we believe we deserve one,” Beth told them. “Reason one: Because it would be really cool.”

“Reason two: Less fighting over the tv before bed,” Lina added.

“Reason three: we–”

“You’re not getting a tv in your bedroom,” Rafael told them.

The twins looked at each in shock before looking back at their parents. “Why not?” they asked in unison.

“Because you’re nine,” Rafael began.

“We’ll be ten in two months!” Beth argued.

“And,” he added, “it’s hard enough to get you both to do your homework. You don’t need a distraction in your room.”

“Eso no es justo!” Lina exclaimed.

“You’re not getting a tv in your room until you’re in middle school. End of discussion,” Rafael said. “Now go get ready for bed.”

The twins huffed angrily, stomping towards the staircase and up the stairs to their room. They grumbled to each other in twin-lish, their own made up language, and Nic sighed as she watched them go.

“We could have least heard them out,” she said to her husband.

“I didn’t have a tv in my room growing up.” Rafael stood up to get a glass of water from the kitchen. “They can wait a few years.”

Lina and Beth were still upset in the morning, practically giving their father the silent treatment. Their Aunt Abby picked them up for the day to take the twins to a new bookshop that opened in Queens. But secretly they were plotting, and that evening when everyone was winding down for the night, the twins marched into their parents’ bedroom. Nic had just finished brushing her teeth when they entered, and Rafael paused the show they were watching. Beth confidently held out a piece of paper to their father who took it in confusion. Nic walked over to her husband, glancing down at the paper in his hand.

“What’s this?” he asked the twins.

“Ten signatures for our petition,” Lina explained simply.

“Petition?” Rafael asked in disbelief. They nodded. “Petition for what?”

“To get us a tv in our room,” she said.

Beth crossed her arms. “We have the signed support from Aunt Abby, Uncle Sonny, Aunt Bella and Uncle Tommy, Uncle Eddie—”

“—Aunt Liv, Uncle Fin, Miss Carmen, Mr. McCoy–” Lina added.

“You got a signature from my boss?!” Rafael shrieked, looking at the paper and recognizing the signature from the District Attorney. “How?” He looked at his daughters, and Nic bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

“Uncle Sonny introduced us. We’re very persuasive,” they said in unison, smiling at their father. If he hadn’t seen them do that their entire lives he would be freaked out.

“But we got the most important signature,” Beth told him, pointing at the list.

“Abuelita,” they both said.

Rafael stared at his mother’s name at the bottom of the list. She always spoiled the twins. He shook his head as he looked up at them. “This changes nothing. The answer is still no.”

The twins’ eyes hardened to a glare. “Esto es guerra, Papi,” they told him before walking out of the bedroom.

Nic looked down at her husband in amusement. “I don’t think you realize what you’ve started.”

He scoffed. “They’re nine, and there’s two of them. How much trouble can they be?”

She patted his shoulder. “They’re also your daughters.” She walked back into the bathroom as Rafael looked back down at the petition.

The next morning was oddly quiet as Rafael and Nic woke up. Mariana and Freddie weren’t there to wake them up like usual, and for a moment Nic was worried they were sick. But neither were in their rooms, and as she went to check and see if the twins knew the whereabouts of their younger siblings, she realized they weren’t in their room either. With furrowed brows, they headed downstairs to the living room. It was there they saw the coffee table moved to the side and all four of their children sitting on the floor in front of the couch.

“What’s this?” Nic asked as she walked over to them.

“We’re exercising our right to protest,” Beth explained.

Her twin nodded in agreement. “We’re standing up against an oppressive authority.”

Rafael’s mouth fell open as his wife let out a laugh. “When I told you to use your rights I meant when you dealt with a dictator at school or the government, not me!”

“This is something that will benefit all of us,” Lina said, gesturing to Freddie and Mariana next to her. “And we’re not moving until you give in to our demands.”

“Viva la Revolución!” Freddie shouted.

“Viva la Revolución!” The twins and Mariana repeated.

Wide eyed Rafael looked at his wife, but Nic threw her hands up. “Hey, they’re protesting you, not me.” She bent down to look at her children, amusement evident on her face. “Would the revolution like to have breakfast down here?”

“Yes, please, Mami,” Beth replied, nodding.

Nic chuckled. “How about churro waffles?”

“With chocolate sauce!” Freddie requested excitedly.

“Coming right up.” Nic stood up and walked past her husband, patting his chest. “Good luck,” she whispered to him.

The kids sat there all day, opting to have all of their meals there. Rafael was surprised to find Freddie and Mariana so strong in their resolve, and it scared him for the years to come. Already the kids were proving to be a force to be reckoned with. Even when dinner arrived they didn’t budge.

“Alright, this has gone on all day. Come to the table and have dinner,” Rafael told them, arms folded. They didn’t move, Lina and Beth glaring up at him with determination in their eyes. “If you come to the table you can have ice cream after dinner,” he bribed.

Mariana and Freddie looked at each other then to the twins. “I want ice cream,” Mariana whispered.

“Stay strong,” Lina told them.

“Qué haría Dora?” Beth asked her little sister.

A look of intensity came over Mariana at the mention of her animated hero. “Mantener mi posición.”

The siblings nodded at each other before looking up at their dad.

“Comemos aquí abajo,” Beth replied to him.

He sighed heavily, marching into the kitchen where his wife was plating dinner. “Not even ice cream will get them up. What the hell do we do?”

“Give in?” Nic suggested, looking at him. “They’re stubborn like you are. I doubt they’ll move any time soon. And what harm would a tv do? We could always put a parental lock on it.”

“When the twins were born we agreed that any children we have would be allowed to have a tv once they were in middle school,” he reminded her.

“That was before they inherited your stubbornness.” She pointed the spatula at him. “Face it, Rafa. The kids have you beat.”

“Us. We’re supposed to be holding a united front.”

“For things like curfew and dating. In the grand scheme of things a tv is so… trivial.”

After dinner ended they still wouldn’t move. Rafael was close to admitting defeat, and he still wasn’t sure if he was scared or proud of his children.

“You know what? You talk some sense into them since they’re so much like me,” he told Nic. “I’m taking a shower.” He headed up the stairs.

“Have you gotten them up yet?” he asked as he walked down the stairs. He looked over to the couch and his mouth dropped open. Nic was sitting with them now. “What happened?” Rafael walked over to them.

“They really are very persuasive,” Nic told him as she sat beside Beth. “And honestly, I always wanted a tv in my room growing up. I think we should get them the tv.”

He gaped at her for a long moment, all four of the kids waiting for a reply from him. “You win.” he threw his hands up before putting them on his hips. “Me rindo. We’ll get you a tv in your room, but you’ll have to wait for your birthday.”

“Deal,” the twins agreed.

“Does this mean we can leave?” Freddie asked.

“Yep,” Beth told him.

“I have to pee!” Mariana yelled, getting up and running to the bathroom on that floor.

“Me too!” Freddie exclaimed, following his sister’s lead but heading to the second floor bathroom.

“I’ll use Freddie’s bathroom!” Lina said as she and Beth jumped up also to use the bathroom.

“We can shake on it after we get back!” Beth yelled as they ran up the stairs.

Nic and Rafael laughed, shaking their heads at their children. He walked over to where she sat on the floor and dropped next to her.

“Those kids are going to rule the world one day,” he joked, resting his head against hers.

She bumped his knee with hers. “And whose fault is that?”

“Ours,” he kissed her cheek, “for making such smart kids.”

Tag list: @hyperionshipping @the-dark-fae-and-her-fos

[mallahanmoxie]

even though i do have ships i am more fond of than others, i am a multishipper by nature and thus seek out other-ship fics rather regularly. i really can manage that quite splendidly. the problem is when they make the characters of my otp interact in an other-ship fic and somehow expect me not to, pardon the expression, jump ship immediately.

[madpanda75]

“A Wonderful Life with You” Romantic Series

A holiday story featuring Rafael x Reader from my Romantic series back in their Harvard days for @thefanficfaerie​‘s Christmas OTP challenge.

Prompt 18: Holiday movie

You ran across the quad, snow crunching underneath your feet. It felt like the weight of the world was lifted off your shoulders. Finals were over and winter break had just started. You couldn’t wait to get back to your apartment and veg out in front of the TV, watching holiday movies, drinking cocoa, and eating junk food.

“Becks, I’m home!” You announced when you walked through the door. Your roommate must’ve been planning for your arrival. The apartment looked so cheerful, decked out with Christmas lights and a small tree in the corner of the living room. There were Red Vines on the coffee table and the most incredible aroma wafting from the kitchen. You set down your book bag and peeled off your coat and hat. “Becks, are you cooking? Should I grab the fire extinguisher? Remember when you nearly burned down the apartment when you made peanut butter and jelly last month?”

You plopped down on the couch and kicked off your boots when you heard Rafael’s voice. “Who knew that peanut butter could burst into flames.”

You whipped your head around to see your best friend standing in the kitchen doorway, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Rafi!” You jumped up and hugged him. “What are you doing here?”

“Becks let me in. She went to a Christmas Party tonight. I wanted to surprise you,” he said.

You had been studying day and night for your finals. Wanting to do something special for you, Rafael called his abuela and asked for her recipe for chuletas fritas y arroz con frijoles negros. She happily walked him through the steps on how to make the dish. She also gave him a few romance tips, knowing that her grandson had a soft spot for you. “Just be yourself,” she reassured him over the phone. “You’re handsome, sweet, and brilliant. How could she not fall madly in love with you.”

You walked past him into the kitchen where you saw two plates on the counter and a pot simmering on the stove. “You cooked?”

“Yeah, I thought we could celebrate the end of the semester together. I also went to Blockbuster and rented a movie.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of Rafael going to all this trouble. “You mean, you did all this for me?”

Rafael blushed and rubbed the back of his neck.  “Well I figured you should be eating something other than leftover pizza.”

“This coming from the man who lives on ramen noodles and coffee,” you teased and went to the fridge to grab two beers, handing one over to Rafael. You held up your beer bottle. “Here’s to our last fall semester as undergrads.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Rafael clinked his bottle against yours and took a swig of his beer. Setting his bottle down, he grabbed some potholders and brought the pot over to the kitchen table. “Let’s eat!”

*****

Dinner was delicious. You had no idea Rafael was such an amazing cook. The two of you enjoyed your meal, chatting at the table about your holiday plans. Rafael was in domestic bliss. He couldn’t help but wonder if this is what life would be like if you were a couple.

After cleaning up, you both made your way over to the living room. Rafael had rented, “It’s a Wonderful Life.” It was your favorite Christmas movie but he had never seen it. You both lounged on the couch, drinking hot cocoa, and eating Red Vines.

While watching George Bailey contemplate what life would be like if he never existed, Rafael could feel you shivering beside him. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” you replied.

He grabbed the blanket beside him and laid it over you both. “Better?”

“Much better. Thanks,” you said, scooting closer to him. Rafael rested his arm on the back of the couch behind you. It took all his strength not to wrap his arm around your shoulders and hold you close.

Glancing your way, he watched as a smile danced on your lips while George was telling Mary how he would lasso the moon for her. Sitting so close to you, Rafael couldn’t help but study your delicate features— the gentle slope of your nose, your soft pink pout. Your hair was up in a messy bun, exposing the elegant curve of your neck, a few tendrils framing your face. There wasn’t any part of your body that he didn’t want to worship. Even your earlobes were adorable.

Just then you turned towards him as if you could sense his eyes on you. “Rafi,” you softly said.

Rafael’s breath hitched. He could feel his pulse quickening, his face close to yours. “Yeah.”

“Red Vine?” You asked, holding up a piece of licorice.

“Oh..umm no thanks.” Rafael smiled and focused on the movie, occasionally pulling his attention away from the screen to look your way.

*****

You turned off the movie after ZuZu Bailey told her father that every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings. “Well, what did you think?” You looked back at your best friend and noticed he was sniffling. “Are you crying?”

“No,” Rafael lied. “I just had some dust in my eyes.”

You softly laughed to yourself. Rafael was sentimental and a hopeless romantic. It was one of the many things you loved about him. “Guess Becks and I should clean this place up more often,” you said with a wink and placed your hand over his, giving it a tight squeeze. He turned his palm up and intertwined his fingers with yours. A spark shot through your body, starting right where your hands were joined.

You quickly moved your hand away, trying to ignore the lingering sensation in your fingertips. “Presents!” You announced. “I almost forgot I got you something for Christmas. Stay right there,” you commanded and went into the bedroom.

While in your room, you leaned back against the door, trying to control the butterflies flying around in your stomach. “Get it together, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. “Rafi is your best friend. Nothing more. Stop reading into this.”

“Everything ok in there?” You heard Rafael call out.

“Uh-huh. Be right out.” You grabbed his present from the bed and headed back towards the living room. Sitting back down on the couch, you handed Rafael a small velvet oblong box with a red bow. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said.

“I wanted to,” you replied, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater, your cheeks turning pink. “Go ahead, open it.”

Rafael opened the box, revealing a brilliant, shiny gold pen. “Wow,” he breathed.

“I know it’s not much, but I thought you could use it for law school next year,” you said with a shy shrug. “Maybe it’ll bring you good luck.”

“It’s perfect,” he said, running his fingers across the writing utensil. “I promise I’ll use it for every case. Thank you.” He reached behind his back and pulled out a present. “I have a little something for you too.” The gift was horribly wrapped. It almost looked like a car ran over it. But knowing how much time and thought Rafael had put into this present made you smile.

You tore open the paper and gasped. There in your hands was your favorite childhood book, Little Women. It was the same edition you had as a child. The same one that your father would read you every night. Sadly, you lost your copy when you went to Harvard. You never thought you would see it again.

“I know how you’re always looking for that edition at used bookstores,” he said as you lovingly touched the cover. “Finally found a copy when I went home for Thanksgiving.”

A few tears slipped down your cheeks as you wrapped Rafael in a tight embrace. “Thank you so much, Rafi,” you whispered. “I love it.”

Pulling away slightly, you found yourself getting lost in his green eyes. With a tentative hand, Rafael reached up and wiped away a stray tear with his thumb. You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The tension in the room suddenly shifted. It was the same tension that had been building up between you two for the past four years.

Rafael licked his lips and glanced down towards your mouth. He leaned forward, his nose barely brushing yours when Becks burst through the front door, returning home from her night of partying. She looked at you, then Rafael, and rolled her eyes. “Unbelievable. I leave you guys alone for a couple hours and you still haven’t hooked up. Can you guys please just have sex and get it over with. Jeez, senior citizens move faster than you do.”

You snorted a laugh. “Good night, Becks.”

“Remember no glove, no love,” she called out while walking to her bedroom.

Rafael’s face turned beet red. “It’s getting late. I...uh... guess I should be going.”

“Yeah. I guess so,” you said with a sigh.

Rafael said his goodbyes, which were made even more awkward after your roommate’s comments, and left your apartment. He hadn’t gone too far when he heard you call out his name. You ran up to him and before he could even react, your arms were wrapped around him.

Rafael hugged you back, a surge of warmth spread throughout his body, seeping into his veins. He hugged you so tight that he lifted you off the ground before reluctantly letting go. “What was that for?”

“Just cause.” You blushed and playfully tugged on his scarf. “Merry Christmas, Rafi.” You kissed him on the cheek and walked away.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he replied, touching his face where your lips once were.

Rafael stood there, alone on the sidewalk. He looked up towards the sky and saw there was a full moon out. Closing his eyes, Rafael silently made a wish. A wish that someday he would get the chance to lasso the moon for you. That someday he would have you as his own. Because with you by his side, it truly would be a wonderful life.

@glimmerglittergirl​ @southern-magnolia​ @sweetcannolicarisi​ @delia26​ @obfuscateyummy​ @sass-and-suspenders​ @eclecticminded​ @thatesqcrush​ @katmstanton​ @amirightcounsellor​ @beltzboys2015-blog​ @letty-o​ @sonnysdoll​ @lyssa1385​ @sweetsummertime99​ @burningsorr0ws​ @gibbs274​ @izzythefanfreak​ @riodallas​ @babypink224221​ @livxrafa​ @esparza-army​ @obsessionprofessional​ @ottosuricato​ @melsquared79​ @dreila03​ @frenchiefoxy​ @tropes-and-tales​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @goodluckfindingone​

[thatesqcrush]

Deseos de la Navidad

Rafael Barba x Reader.  AN: Prompt #2 (Decorations) from the @thefanficfaerie Christmas OTP challenge found here. CW: Angst, talk of loss/death of family member. Reference: SVU, S.16, E.16 “December Solstice.”

Tags: @theenchantedgalleryofstories @madpanda75 @ottosuricato @delia26 @dreila03 @sass-and-suspenders @glimmerglittergirl @melsquared79 @mommakat32 @garturbo @southern-magnolia @niyashell @tropes-and-tales @imjustreallynosy @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @sweetsummertime99 @evee87 @scarletsoldierrr @kscarlett1 @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid - anyone else just ask.

****

As a child, Rafael Barba loved the Christmas season. He loved getting to open a present on Noche Buena and feasting on lechon asado (which took all day to make), ropa vieja, moros y cristianos, maduros and arroz con leche. He loved hearing his grandmother tell stories about Cuba and if he was particularly good, she would let him have a sip of the heavily spiked crema de vie.

Rafael had been having a hard time getting into the festive spirit after his grandmother passed away, especially since he felt as if it were his fault.

This was the first Christmas he wasn’t single, however. The DA’s office had a mixer and that was how the two of you met. He worked with SVU; you worked in white collar crime. The two of you bonded over a discussion of Macallan rum while being miserable at the much forced work/social event.

While Rafael was grateful to have met you, his heart was hurting. He had longed for his abuelita to meet you. After she had passed, his mother gave him the engagement ring his grandmother wanted him to give to you. He carried the ring with him for weeks; though he still intended to ask for your hand, the ring felt like a stone dragging him down. Subconsciously, as a result, he distanced himself from you.

That morning, he woke up after another night of restless sleep. The clock read 4am and it was still pitch black outside. Carefully, so as to not to disturb your sleeping form, Rafael crawled out of bed and got ready for work.

You woke up startled. Seeing the empty spot next to you, you looked at the clock - 5:30 AM. You sighed, before collapsing back into bed, pulling the comforter over your head.

****

Two and a half hours later, you padded around the kitchen, ready to grab your purse when you noticed yesterday’s dinner untouched and uneaten on the counter. With a sigh, you tossed the plate of salmon and buttery potatoes (that had congealed) into the trash.

You knew grief was full of ups and downs - fits and starts. It was anything but a linear path. You could tell when Rafael was having a good day - he was jovial and confident. Other days, he appeared weary, as if the weight of the world was his burden. You tried to give Rafael as much space as he needed to process. As much as you were tempted to, you didn’t want to fall prey to the temptation of filling the silence with platitudes.

You headed out of the apartment and made way to get breakfast at the local coffee shop. If you knew Rafael well - which you did - you knew he hasn’t had breakfast. The DA’s office wasn’t far, so you carried a tray over - a large black for Rafael, a soy latte for Carmen and a flat white for yourself. In your other hand was Rafael’s favorite: a guava and cheese croissant, a rift on his favorite pastry growing up.

You walked down the hallway towards his office. The DA’s office was surprisingly quiet, but you knew that would soon change. You rapped softly, before entering.

“Carmen, I said no interruptions,” Rafael barked before looking up. His gaze subtly softened. “Cariño.”

“You were gone early. Didn’t get to say goodbye. I brought you something to eat,” you replied softly.

“Thanks but I’m not hungry,” Rafael grumbled before going back to his notes. “I’ll take the coffee though.”

You sat down in the chair in front of his desk and pushed the coffee and bakery bag in front of him.

“You aren’t taking care of yourself amor. You came home late last night, you haven’t shaved,” you continued eyeing the more than a 5 o’ clock shadow Rafael sported “and you didn’t eat because the leftovers in the fridge —“

“I said I wasn’t hungry! Drop it,” Rafael snapped, cutting you off. He looked up and saw the expression on your face. You gave him a small tight lipped smile and nodded.

“I’ll see you at home,” you replied, standing. At the doorway you paused to look behind you and saw that Rafael had resumed his writing. You nodded once more and shut the door behind you with a click.

Rafael looked back up as the door shut with a click. He sighed and tossed his pen onto the desk, his head falling into his hands.

***

Back at home, you blasted the local radio station that started playing Christmas music early. You bopped along Rockin Around the Christmas Tree.

You had the Christmas decorations brought up from storage and you had just finished hanging the stockings from the mantle, when a sharp knock interrupted you.

You hit pause on the stereo and then looked through the peephole. You smiled at the visitor and opened the door. “Mrs. Barba! What are you doing here?”

Lucia gave you a look. “Please, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Lucia.” She reached down to pick up a box. “Is Rafi here?”

“No - at the office,” you replied.

“Como siempre,” Lucia replied with a sigh, opening the box. “I was cleaning out my mother’s apartment and I found some of her old Christmas ornaments that she smuggled out of Cuba. These have been in our family for generations. I thought Rafi would love them.”

You gently picked up an frosted glass ball covered in lace. “These are gorgeous; thank you.”

Lucia gave you a warm smile. “You’ve done a lovely job decorating — why are there three stockings though on the mantle?”

You gave her a coy smile. “I haven’t even told Rafael yet,” you confessed. You placed a hand on your stomach.

“Ay dios mio!” Lucia exclaimed, enveloping you into a hug. “This is so exciting! When are you due? How do you feel? ¡Mija, siéntate!”

You let out a small giggle. “I’m only 6 weeks. I’m due August 19th. I feel good; some nausea. Nothing too bad.”

“Oh Rafi is going to be so happy!” Lucia exclaimed.

“I hope so,” you replied. When Lucia cocked her brow, you continued. “He’s been having a hard time since your mother passed.”

Lucia nodded, and walked over to the mantle, gingerly touching the stocking that had Baby Barba embroidered on it. “They were incredibly close. I know he feels guilty about the nursing home.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself. Lucia walked up to you and enveloped you into another hug.

****

Rafael wearily shuffled into the apartment. He took off his coat and hung it up, before removing his suit jacket. “Cariño?”

You pressed the button on the remote and the entire apartment lit up in sparkly lights. The apartment was decorated to the nines in Christmas decor.

Rafael was stunned. ‘When did she do all of this?’ he wondered.

“Surprise,” you replied softly, from across the room, by the mantle. “I know you have been having a hard time. And I know nothing I saw will bring her back, and nothing will change that void in your heart, but I just want to bring some joy back into your life.”

Rafael walked up to you. Wordlessly, he pulled you close to him. Your hands on his chest, you breathed in the scent of his cologne. Rafael tipped your head back slightly with his finger and brought his lips down to yours. You moaned into the kiss as his tongue tangled yours. The stubble of Rafael’s unshaved beard irritated your skin.

You hesitantly broke the kiss, trying to catch your breath. “Do you like it?”

“I love it. And I love you,” Rafael replied, pushing your hair back.

“Look, your mom gave us your abuela’s ornaments,” you replied, pulling Rafael towards the Christmas tree. You gently tapped a lace ornament.

Rafael’s eyes watered as he took an ornament in his hand. You wrapped an arm around Rafael’s waist and rested your head against him. Rafael kissed the top of your head. He looked behind you and towards the mantle, his eyes tracking the stockings that hung. “There are three,” he noted curiously.

Rafael walked to the third stocking; he looked at you, his eyes watering once more. “It says ... are you?”

You bit your lip, nodding. “Yeah.”

Rafael swept you into his arms once more, twirling you in his embrace. He set you down gently, your back to him, with a hand firmly pressed against your abdomen.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I’m sorry if I’ve been distant, Rafael apologized, his voice cracking a bit.

“Don’t,” you shook your head. “I understand. It’s okay.”

Rafael pressed a kiss into the slope of your neck. You both watched the decorations and lights sparkle on the tree. Rafael knew somehow, with you by his side, he’d get through this tough time. Rafael also looked forward to the future and the new beginnings that awaited the two of you.

FIN

[meetmeatthecoda]

Fic!!

@scifi-gk Here ya go!! :D The “tonight” I promised turned into “stupidly late bordering on early morning” but my posting usually does that sooo sorry about that :)) But yeah, here’s eight tiny chapters of fic based on this post called “Sweet OTP Things” which was just too damn cute to pass up. I used it especially to practice writing really short things really quickly. Trying to weave a believable situation complete with cute OTP feels in just a couple of lines is hard!! LOL so here’s my practice, basically! :D But I hope it’s still enjoyable! :)) Any feedback is loved and this will be posted on FF.net and AO3 as “Sweet Moments” with a link to the inspiration post! :) Much love y’all! <3

Give me more of Person A nuzzling into Person B’s neck because they’re cold and tired, and Person B m e l t i n g.

The heat’s on, filling the car with warm air swirling around them, slowly thawing their fingers and toes, numb from being out so long in the frigid December air. They’re huddled closer together than they normally would be in the backseat, gravitating toward the closest source of warmth in the dark.

Red sits very still, not wanting to disturb the odd peace and stillness that has settled over them here in the backseat, Dembe driving up front, seemingly immune to the atmosphere behind him. Lizzie is pressed close to his side, shivering slightly, and Red is cold too but he’s more worried about her. They were outside for too long and her coat is far too thin and –

Then he hears her teeth start to chatter and he simply can’t take it anymore. Red shifts to pull his arm out from where it is trapped against hers, his heart fluttering at her quiet noise of protest, and puts his arm around her shoulders instead, fully tucking her into his side.

Lizzie doesn’t question it, only exhaling a small breath in surprise, something Red can feel thanks to how close they are, and then it’s only a moment before she’s moving even closer, throwing her free arm around his waist and turning her head. He wonders for a moment what exactly she’s doing before he feels a cold shock on the warm skin of his neck and he completely melts inside as he realizes it’s her nose, because she’s nuzzling into his neck, her eyes closing with a quiet, contented sigh.

And Red stares wide-eyed into the darkness of the car, completely in shock as the secret love of his life cuddles with him.

Because Red?

Well, he’s warm now.

*7 more of these under the cut!*

Give me more slow dancing with no music, arms wrapped tightly around each other, breaths mingling.

She’s sitting on the couch, tucked into one corner, looking small and sad, her eyes heavy and wet. He feels his heart ache for her, wants to help her, always. And the only thing he can think to do is move forward and offer her his hand.

(It certainly isn’t the first time he’s surrendered to her.)

She looks at him in confusion, her brow furrowing and her chin trembling, looking so lost that he can only do one thing. He simply reaches down and takes her hand, tugging her gently but firmly to stand, pulling her without hesitation into his arms. She goes without resistance, not taking her hand back and unconsciously bringing the other up to rest lightly on his chest. With that, Red starts to move, just swaying slightly from side to side, taking her with him.

“What are we doing?” she asks quietly, a whisper, really, just breathing the question to him.

“We’re dancing, Lizzie,” he answers just as softly, slowly moving his free arm to rest around her waist.

“But there’s no music, Red,” she murmurs, sounding a little amused now and he’s so happy, even if it’s technically at his expense, loving the thought of her fondly shaking her head over his silly antics.

“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” he whispers, bringing his cheek to rest ever so gently against hers, silken and soft, warm and lovely. Perfect.

Lizzie.

“We’ll make our own.”

Give me more of Person A playing with Person B’s fingers because they’re bored, tracing the skin, examining the scars.

They’re only an hour into their long flight to Paris, nowhere near landing, and Liz is already restless. She’s finished the book she was almost done with when they boarded Red’s private jet and she was stupid enough not to bring a second one so here she is, tired of gazing out the window and too excited to sleep.

Bored.

Red is there next to her, as usual, occupied with a crossword puzzle, happy as can be. Liz would peer over his shoulder and try to help but Red likes to do his puzzles himself.

Stubborn man.

So, Liz can do nothing but stare, watch him frown at the paper, his bottom lip jutting out in the cutest pout, before his eyes light up as he thinks of the answer, hurriedly leaning forward to write it in. Liz feels her lips quirk up in a grin, something completely beyond her control. He’s just too adorable.

Liz’s eyes drift down Red’s arm, bared to her gaze by his rolled-up sleeve, and down to his hand, holding his signature red pen, neatly writing letters in the little boxes. His hands are really something, strong and capable, all long fingers and neat nails, a light dusting of blonde hair, and, when she looks a little closer, a curious collection of marks.

Liz frowns, leaning forward and unceremoniously taking Red’s writing hand in both of her own, running her fingers over the tendons and knuckles, and spying a faint line right above his middle finger. It could be from anything, knowing Red. Knife, sword, scissors. She can never tell with him.

“What’s this from?” she asks without preamble, tracing the long line with her own finger.

“Paper cut,” he answers simply, not questioning her sudden inspection.

Oh.

Liz smiles and hums absently in response, moving to run her thumb over the prominent bone of his wrist instead.

“Lizzie?” Red questions idly.

“Hmm?”

“As much as I’m enjoying this, do you think I’ll be getting my hand back anytime soon?”

Liz smirks to herself. She’s not bored anymore.

“Not until we get to Paris.”

Give me more soft kisses, lips barely touching, just chaste little things that leave both parties irrationally breathless.

It’s almost too much to bear, sitting this close to him, in some sort of tense limbo. They stare each other down, eyes not straying from one another, not challenging or cautious, more tentative and unsure. Their knees press together on the couch where they’re sitting, in the dimly lit living room of his latest safe house, where dusk fell quietly around them and left them suspended in this timid twilight.

Slowly, barely daring to breath, not taking her eyes off him, Liz moves her hand forward to lightly ghost her fingers over the back of his hand, resting on his knee inches away from her. She hears his slight intake of breath, sees his mouth open in surprise, as close as she is, and she revels in it.

It takes him a moment, a scared moment for Liz, waiting anxiously, but it isn’t too long before she feels rather than sees Red’s hand inch forward to brush her knee, and with that light touch, she knows she’s not in this alone.

(She never was.)

And it’s that thought that gives her courage enough to inch her head forward, leaving her hands to rest, their job done, and move her eyes to his lips. He follows suit, advancing at the same rate she is, slowly, achingly slow, as they get closer, until their lips finally brush. It is a soft, dry thing, barely there, and yet it is enough for a first kiss.

They pause, not moving away but not moving any closer as they consider each other in silence. Liz sees a gleam in Red’s eyes, something she can interpret easily and, oddly enough, feel reflected in herself, and it brings a flush to her cheeks. She felt something when their lips touched, something unfamiliar but very welcome, nothing jolting, not a shock or a spark. More like a smolder, warm embers starting to glow somewhere inside her.

Red examines her in turn and soon his eyes stray down to her lips, gazing at them in something akin to longing and it’s enough for Liz. She reaches out and kisses him again, keeping her eyes wide open, too enthralled by his face to stop looking quite yet as they share gentle, sipping kisses, Liz feeling as though he’s stealing her very breath, something she willingly gives to him. She watches his eyes drift shut, an action seemingly beyond his control. And as lips caress hers, so warm and persuading, she can’t help her own eyes starting to slip shut from the sensation, only one thought resounding clearly in her head.

(This is right.)

Give me more humming in the kitchen, making brownies at 3 AM for no reason at all.

He wakes to the smell of chocolate, smiling pleasantly before his eyes have even opened, wondering what Lizzie is making for breakfast, is she –

Wait.

Red is instantly alert and confused as he opens his eyes to see it’s still dark outside. He frowns and glances at the clock on Lizzie’s nightstand.

3:11am

Well. That’s odd.

He is out of bed within a few moments, tugging a white t-shirt on to accompany his striped cotton sleep pants before he pads out to the kitchen, stopping when he hears and sees Lizzie, completely at a loss for words or movement.

Because there she is, dressed in his button-down shirt and nothing else, all bare feet and a messy pony tail, humming softly to herself as she mixes some kind of chocolate batter in a big bowl, smears of it on her face and hands, looking up to smile brightly at him.

At three o’clock in the morning.

She’s going to kill him.

(He loves her so much.)

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” he thinks it’s a fair question, personally, but she doesn’t seem phased, just continues to stir happily.

“Making brownies!” she says, smiling.

Well, that doesn’t help.

“Mhm,” he murmurs patiently, now starting to smile himself, unable to stand in the face of her happiness without absorbing a little for himself. “And why are you making brownies at three in the morning, love?”

It’s Lizzie’s turn to look puzzled, which he finds hilarious, and she just shrugs at him, starting to scoop the batter into a large tin.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she says simply. “Wanna help?”

He blinks at her for a second more, taking in the unusual sight, and then nods. What else can he do? It’s not the most ridiculous thing they’ve ever done. And something about the thought of he and Lizzie puttering around in the kitchen together while the rest of the world is sleeping makes him as warm inside as the preheated oven.

So, he hurries forward to grab a spoon and start scooping, pausing only to playfully lick the smear of batter off her face, making her giggle.

They’ll sleep later.

Give me more holding hands, that simple act nearly overwhelming one or both of them, thumbs stroking over knuckles, fingers interlacing.

It’s all they can do, here in the back of an FBI SUV, in full view of Ressler and Samar in the front, with Ressler’s tactless eyes flicking to the rearview mirror at regular intervals.

It’s been another day, another life-threatening situation, another close call. This time they were both there, Red and Liz, as the team was surrounded, at least twenty guns pointed at them, the foreign hit men gesturing and yelling in a language none of them spoke. It was so scary, all of them fully expecting a gun to go off somewhere, and one of them to be struck by a stray bullet.

Killed by chance. Completely uncontrollable and unpredictable. Terrifying.

But backup arrived right in time and they’re here now, on their way back to the post office to be debriefed, no time to be alone in the near future. But they need something. So, by mutual agreement, their hands snuck forward on the seat until they touched and Red wasted no time in lacing their fingers together, almost too tight. But for Liz, it’s not nearly tight enough, and she’s squeezing right back, occasionally running her thumb over Red’s knuckles in her desperation to touch and be touched.

She can’t seem to regulate her breathing to anything other than short and harsh, knowing Red can hear her. And she can see Red’s other hand in a tight fist on his knee and she knows it would be touching her in a million different places right now if he had the freedom to do so. And Liz thinks that’s fair because if they were alone, she would have swung her leg over his hip and been in his lap long before now.

But, with them clutching at the only part of each other they can safely reach, their hands, here in the car, wishing they could be closer but holding themselves back, with Ressler and Samar talking quietly in the front, this is all they can do.

It will have to be enough. For now.

Give me more of Person A helping Person B with simple tasks, like brushing their hair, or putting on jewelry, where it’s obviously an excuse to be close to each other, but neither are complaining.

“Which do you think?”

Lizzie is standing in front of the mirror in their bedroom, holding up two beautiful necklaces, one with a sapphire stone and one with a pearl, asking him which goes better with her dark blue blouse.

“The sapphire one.”

Lizzie smirks.

“You’re just saying that because you bought it for me.”

“Nonsense,” sniffs Red, although she’s partially right. “It’s not my fault that any shade of blue in the world accents your eyes beautifully. What am I supposed to say?”

She’s too busy laughing to answer him, putting away the pearl necklace with nary a protest. Red sees an opportunity and steps forward quickly.

“Please, allow me,” he murmurs, his voice deep as he presses up behind her, closer than strictly necessary, taking the delicate necklace from her fingers.

He sees her roll her eyes good-naturedly in the mirror, but she watches quietly as he works the tiny clasp with ease, swinging the necklace carefully over her head, and securing it in the back, even gently pulling her long, dark hair out from under the chain.

He looks up then, meeting her eyes in the mirror as she slowly leans her head back to rest against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her waist in answer. She closes her eyes, contentedly resting against him, and they stand there for a few lovely moments before he feels obligated to speak.

“Lizzie, I thought we were going out.”

“Hmm,” Lizzie hums carelessly, not opening her eyes, snuggling back against him as Red presses a kiss to the top of her head. “In a bit.”

Give me more picking out baby names, painting nurseries, and cradling their children.

“Stacey?”

“No. Carl?”

“God, no.”

“Beth?”

“Hmm. Sam?”

“…Yeah, maybe.”

They share a brief smile before turning back to their respective walls. They are in the newly thought of nursery in their home, painting it a cheery yellow while trading baby names back and forth, Red throwing out girl names and Liz brainstorming boy names. It’s mostly for fun, seeing who can come up with the worst ones, but lately they’ve gathered some serious possibilities.

And she has a feeling Sam was just added to the list.

Liz dips her paint roller in the tray of paint and lifts it back up to the wall with a slight groan, her baby bump, now six months big, getting in her way a little.

“Are you sure you should be doing this, Lizzie?”

“Yes, Raymond, I’m fine, thank you,” she smiles at him over her shoulder. She loves him for asking and she knows he’ll only be doing it more in the coming weeks. It’s wonderful. “Hey, where do you think the rocker should go?”

“Hmm,” Red hums, coming over to dip his brush in the paint tray, dropping a kiss on her shoulder as he passes by. “Maybe in the corner next to the window?”

“Yeah,” Liz smiles, thinking about it, imagining Red holding their baby in his arms, rocking them to sleep, tucked in the corner of the room, maybe humming or talking to them, the baby squirming gently in his arms, their big blue eyes staring up at him adoringly. Her heart swells at the image. “Yeah, I like that.”

(It’s perfect.)

“Hey, how about Agnes?”

(Completely perfect.)

“Let’s add it to the list.”

[shada-was-in-the-area-and]

17 for ALL STORIES

you know i saw a movie like this once. it was called Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. they opened up the arc of the covenant and faces just, melted off. are you sure you want to open this box

17. Any OC OTPs?

TIME TO START FROM THE TOP

TIENE HILLS:

I’m excluding some spoiler ones. But. Here are some Good Ones.

Leader and Irene (HELL YEAH)

Lee and Ava (oooooOOOO H YEAH BUDDY)

Lee and Yolette (EYEHA!!!)

Yolette and Alamos (YEAAAAAAAAH….i hope they work out their problems)

Dakota and Diane (She’s a side character! See her [here])

I want Terrance and Lisa to make it too…

Phillip and his ex….maybe they can make it too….

I USED TO SHIT HAKURA AND ALAMOS AND I KINDA STILL DO LIKE, DEEP DOWN? EVEN THO ITS BAD. IS THAT A CRACKSHIP.

ESCAPISTS:

ESCAPISTS IS…ACTUALLY KIND OF A ROMANCE BALL? IT’S A MESS. These are just the OTPS, but there are some..unrequited feelings in this group. also middle school kids shipped noir/cap once and now i don’t dare think of anything else

Sally and Lacy (they both love each other but are afraid/hesitant of telling the other)

Sam and Jack (impossible, since Jack is straight, but boy do i dream)

Dawson and Lacy (THEY’RE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AND ITS CUTE WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME)

Al and Barns/Noir (I WAFFLE ON ADMITTING THIS ONE EVERY DAY BUT al probably has a onesided crush in him)

AND ALL THAT’S NULL AND VOID: 

Newest(?) Story? Second newest. Has one big OC OTP

Yuma and Atlas (boy…they’re in love.)

MILLSTONE:

ghosts

Abi and Fi (they’re pretty drawn to one another…! They’re more of a slowburn)

Damien and a Ghost Boyfriend (in the original story, back in 2010, the protag was a ghost boy. I’ve pondered bringing him back as a Ghost Boyfriend, but the jury is out and has been for years).

DREAM: 

the story i promised i’d never bring back, then brought back

Echo and Azra (does this count as a spoiler. i don’t care. im cryin)

Snitch and Some Future Boyfriend (please help him)

Arcadia and Annie (Her Wife)

A COPPER TASTE:

another story i promised i’d never bring back

PENNY AND DARIC (DARIC AND PENNY, PEN AND DAR, D AND P, HELP1!!)

Gen and Kina

I ship Nickel and Kip as a friendship! They’re very good together, but Nickel is aroace and Kip has a preference towards women. They’re good partners tho! Very close friends.

GEM-FIGHTER:

another…story…i promised…..

Thief and Chloe! (Might not happen in canon, in fact they’re likely just close friends, but Boy.)

SNAKE EYES: 

has no ships. ship yourself with Justin Case. Go. You’re free now.

NAME: PENDING: 

THIS ONE IS …. ALSO KIND OF A ROMANCE BALL

Lucy and Kim (old flames)

Kim and Drake (new flames)

Jade and Mira (BOOOOOOOOY)

Drake and Ray (Drake thinks Ray is cute and Ray is flattered but crying from pressure)

THE MAN IN THE YELLOW TRENCH COAT:

Now that people have read the first chapter i can come forward with these exclusive ships

Viper and Weasel (Purely one-sided, but I want Weasel to be happy)

Weasel and Ambassador (also purely one-sided, but I want Weasel to be happy)

Viper, Weasel, Ambassador (I WANT WEASEL TO BE HAPPY ((THIS IS EVEN MORE IMPROBABLE))

Ambassador and Ivory (they haven’t interacted yet, but i have plans)

Viper and Greaser (they /have/ interacted and it was very flirty on Greasers end, so, i can’t control myself)

Boss and Eulogy (also known as the Gay Old Men, also known as the Reason For My Existence. dear GOD DO THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. Probably one of the hardest OC ships I ship).

THE MAN WHO SOLD THE WORLD:

these have changed over the years

David and Eve (hard. i got it bad)

Luke and Bud (Luke has a big crush and Bud is very aware. and flattered by it.)

John has a wife who he loves dearly

SUSPENDED ANIMATION: 

has no ships I ship. Kyle and Zuri are very good friends to me right now, but who knows in the future

BOTTLE CAPPED: 

THE NEWEST, SILLIEST STORY I HAVE

Sia and Alexis (MAAAN THEY’RE GOOD)

Idris and Jeorge (he wants it bad man)

MISS 8:

The Mega Man Love Letter

Ran and Lit (LIT HAS A CRUSH ON HIM AND THE FEELIN IS MUTUAL)

Dr. Blip and his deceased husband. (man what else do i say except for the fact that i cry every night)

PANDORA’S BOX:

The First Video Game Idea. I might..delve into spoiler territory..??? I don’t know.

Hesiod and Pandora (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA)

Dinami and his Past Lover (in his fable, his lover died at the hands of this own hurbis)

Kairos and his Past Lover (think you can beat time? I’m very sorry friend…)

SILENCE:

I mean, at its core, this story has two characters

Catherine and Aro (they’re cute together, but they don’t get together at the end.)

WORLD JUMPERS:

THE COLLAB WITH YOU, @annehairball​

Bee and Clark (BUILT TO BE TOGETHER, COMPLETING EACH OTHER)

20s’ Villain and Magnolia Durant (that last name sounds familiar)

RP GROUP:

A lot of the ships I ship in this are dependent on my friends characters as well! Here are just the ones that I inter-ship

Delia and Argo (childhood friends who turned lovers, then grew apart, BACK AT IT AGAIN OLDER AND BETTER)

Marilynn and Amelia (agents of an evil organization together…Winnin’ Together)

Emery and his deceased wife (WHO HE LOVES AND MISSES VERY MUCH!!!! HECK)

THAT’S MOST OF THEM

THANKS

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

A Welcomed Distraction

Ship: Suspenders & Pens

Warning: pregnancy mention; fankids, absolutely adorable fluff

A/N: I used a translator so if any of the Spanish is off I apologize. And for @the-dark-fae-and-her-fos, I imagine this takes place the day before Rafa’s last episode

Mi Amor calling…

That popped up on Rafael’s phone as it sat on his desk, his wife’s ringtone filling his ears. He felt his heart drop; she never called while he was at work unless it was something serious— an emergency. Did something happen with the twins? Was she in labor? Did something happen with his mom? Rafael snatched up his phone, hitting the green button to answer. He needed to know which of the million worse case scenarios in his head was the reason for her call.

“Nic? What’s wrong?” he asked into the phone.

“Hi Papi!” It was one of the twins. He wasn’t sure which one, they both sounded exactly the same.

Rafael felt his shoulders fall as he relaxed, relief taking over. One of the girls must have gotten her phone. “Nena? Qué haces? Where’s Mami?”

“Mami reading!” she replied excitedly. She started babbling, parts in english and parts in spanish. He could make out most of what she was saying, and he chuckled to himself. The twins definitely inherited his and his wife’s love of talking.

“Mi vida, go get Mami,” he urged through laughter. He stood from his desk, walking to the door of his office. He opened it, poking his head out to look at Carmen. Pulling the phone from his mouth while his daughter rambled on, he spoke, “Carmen; if I have any meetings in the next thirty minutes just cancel or reschedule. I’m on an important call.” She nodded, laughing as she could hear the toddler through the phone. Rafael stepped back into his office as whichever twin was on the phone continued to talk.

“Perrito!” she exclaimed.

He furrowed his brows. A dog? They don’t have a dog. Was she at the park and snuck away? “Nena, dónde estás?”

“La ventana!” she replied.

Once again he felt relief. She was probably downstairs at the bay window. “Where’s Mami?” he asked again.

“Mami durmiendo,” his daughter replied.

Nic fell asleep reading? He shook his head. “Cariño, go wake Mami. Puedes hacer eso?”

Her reply was more adorable babbling. As he sat back down at his desk, his eyes scanned the documents in front of him. So much for getting work done. But if she was talking to him and describing everything she was seeing out the window, at least it was keeping her out of trouble until Nic woke up. He humored the toddler, asking her questions about the things she was seeing, like if the dogs were big or small, what color was the car, was the woman walking by short or tall. It was a great way to help her vocabulary, both in english and spanish.

Rafael hadn’t even realized ten minutes went by until he checked his watch. It was nearing five, meaning in an hour he’d be home to relieve his wife from parenting duties until the twins needed to be tucked in.

“Is Mami still sleeping?” he asked during a lull in his daughter’s commentary.

“Sí.” she replied, immediately going back to describing the people walking by the house.

“Beth? Who are you talking to? Is that my phone?” Rafael chuckled as he heard his wife’s voice followed by the distant complaining from Beth.

Of course she was the one to call him, he thought to himself. Beth was proving to be the bigger daddy’s girl of the two.

“Rafa?” Nic’s voice came through the phone, and his smile softened. No matter how long they had been together, he would always miss hearing her voice throughout the day.

“Hey, mi amor,” he greeted affectionately. “It seems Beth stole your phone.”

“I fell asleep reading to the twins,” she explained, tiredness seeping through her voice. She was due in three weeks, but the doctor said realistically it could be any day now, and it seemed like Nic’s default lately was tired. “She didn’t distract you too much, did she?”

“Oh no, I loved it. You’re always telling me to take more breaks,” he chuckled. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” She sighed.

He hummed. “I’ll bring home dinner. How does that sound?”

“As long as it involves fried pickles.”

Rafael laughed. It was her biggest craving so far. “Deal. I’ll make sure to bring home dinner and fried pickles.”

“M’kay.” Nic yawned, and he could hear the chatter of the twins in the background. “I’ll let you go. See you in an hour.”

“See you soon. I love you.”

“Love you too, Rafi. Bye.”

The call disconnected, and he pulled his phone away to set it down. As he did, he saw the lock screen. It was a photo of Nic and the twins from this past Christmas. He took it when they were opening presents. Rafael set the phone on his desk, smiling to himself.

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

I’ve never mentioned my single mom au for me and Rafa but I created it with @the-dark-fae-and-her-fos and it’s all can think about right now. I’m having such strong feels and I need to scream about them

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

I absolutely stay in bed some mornings just to watch Rafael get dressed for work

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

self care is imagining Rafael loving hearing me talk about the amusing thing I wrote in my novel because I find myself hilarious and he just can’t stop grinning because I’m proud of myself and he’s proud of me too

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Love the soft idea of Rafael coming home from a hard day at work, and whenever the twins need a diaper change or just to be held, he’s right there taking care of them and decompressing because work is hard and he adores his daughters

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

*looks at pictures of Rafael* Let me kiss you Let me kiss you Let me kiss you Let me kiss you Let me kiss you Let me kiss you

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

He definitely talks to the twins all the time in my tummy, both in English and Spanish, and they get super familiar with their papi’s voice 🥺

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Rafa just being so excited to be a dad and he gets so excited when we feel one of the twins having the hiccups when I’m pregnant

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

I want to make out with Rafa and cuddle him and make love to him and just be with him

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

What do mornings with Rafael look like?

That’s a loaded question. It depends on the day really

Rafa gets up at 5:30 every morning for work, but Monday, Wednesday, and Friday he goes out for a morning run and comes home about 6:15 to shower and get dressed and have breakfast with me before he leaves for work

Tuesday and Wednesday he showers and gets dressed and spends some time with me during breakfast before he leaves for work. Those are also our extra cuddle days

Weekends and days off he usually sleeps in until about 7, we cuddle in bed for a while because I love cuddling him, maybe some soft morning sex if we’re in the mood, and then we’ll maybe get brunch at a cafe nearby if we don’t feel like cooking

Holidays is when he really likes sleeping in. I’m awake at 5/6 regardless, but holidays like Christmas or Thanksgiving or Easter he’s sleeping in until at least 8 or 9