#please be well and take care of yourselves

[wheresarizona]

Learning to Live Part 36

summary: It’s a couple of weeks after your wedding, and your period is late… 

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, alternating POV, explicit smut, age gap (about ten years), Husband Javier Peña, Protective Javier Peña, Angry Javier Peña (not at you), dirty talk, period sex, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, blood, Javier taking care of you, kinda a sick fic, angst with a happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, pregnancy discussion, banter, romantic comedy, surprise appearance by your terrible ex, canon typical violence (Javier punches your ex and threatens him), update on Javier’s work with the Sheriff)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (a nurse with no physical descriptions)

word count: 18.9k+

a/n: Hello there! I really hoped to have this done sooner, but my job hunt took up a surprising amount of time. Anyways, this chapter and the next one are going to have some taboo-y smut. Please give it a chance, though! Shoutout to my amazing beta, @devineconjuring

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

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When it came to the weekend, your plan was always to sleep in as late as possible. For you, that ended up being sometime around nine a.m. Your husband, Javier, on the other hand? He naturally woke up at six, and his idea of sleeping in was getting up at six thirty. He was a morning person, one of those people who were too alert and energized for it being the asscrack of dawn. 

That could never be you. 

When he found himself awake hours before you, did he leave you in bed to start his day? Nope. He’d make a quick trip to the bathroom before crawling back under the covers to cuddle with you. Your husband was well aware he didn’t have to stay with you—you’d told him many times it was fine if he wanted to do his own thing while you got your beauty rest. He never did, though, because it meant he’d be alone, and according to him, the apartment was too quiet when you were asleep, and it made him feel lonely. So, he relaxed in bed and held you while patiently waiting for you to rouse from your slumber.

Depending on the mood, sometimes you woke up and the two of you cuddled more, basking in the body heat and one another’s company. Other times, the cuddling was a gateway to losing yourselves in each other, having slow, lazy sex that was more about intimacy and connection than getting off. 

There wasn’t a better way for your day to begin. 

On this particular Saturday, two weeks after you became the official Mrs. Javier Peña, your morning started wrapped up in your husband’s arms. His lips kissed your forehead as his hands gently rubbed along your naked back. It was one of those mornings where he’d whisper against your skin, asking if you were ready to get out of bed, and you’d tell him to give you five more minutes, which turned into ten, then fifteen. It was one of those mornings when you didn’t want him to let you go, feeling so warm, so safe, so loved. 

Eventually, your bladder forced you to get up. 

The two of you did your usual morning routine—you took turns in the bathroom, got dressed together, followed by sharing the sink as you both brushed your teeth. There weren’t plans to leave the house any time soon, so Javi was wearing his grey sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, while you wore a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized University of Miami shirt. You’d gotten it on your trip to Florida, and it featured the school’s giant half-orange, half-green ‘U’ behind a smug-looking Garfield, the cat. 

The cartoon character reminded you of your husband, since they shared a distaste for Mondays. So, obviously, you had to buy it. 

Javier was always more awake than you were first thing in the morning. He had time for his brain to calibrate to consciousness, while you needed caffeine to reach his level. Today, something was different with him, though. He was happier than usual. The word you’d use to describe him sounded foreign in relation to his quiet, broody nature. He was… peppy. He walked around grinning like he swallowed the sun and hummed a happy little tune that sounded an awful lot like ABBA’s “Mamma Mia” while pouring you each a cup of coffee. And the affection. He had to kiss you any time he was within reach: your hair, your cheek, your shoulder, your lips, your forehead, your neck. At one point, he held your arm straight out for him to trail loud, smacking kisses up the appendage like Gomez fucking Addams. 

That one made you melt and giggle like a schoolgirl. 

Then there was how you were basically attached at the hip. In the kitchen, as you both made breakfast, he put his arms around you every chance he got and touched you when he couldn’t—grabbing your ass when he walked past you, standing so close to you while cutting vegetables his side was flush to yours, an arm across your back to hold your hip. 

It was a little surprising he didn’t move his kitchen chair next to yours when you sat down to eat your food—an egg scramble with chopped bacon, diced potatoes, red and green peppers, onions, tomatoes, cheddar cheese, and a side of toast. 

You had an idea why he was in such a good mood. It was something you had spoken about the previous day, and you knew it had him excited. You were just worried he might be too excited, given there wasn’t confirmation of your suspicions.  

Javier sat across from you at your two-person table. He didn’t have bedhead, but his hair wasn’t styled either. It was a controlled mess of brown waves, his bangs falling onto his forehead. There was the tiniest bit of stubble on his cheeks, and you knew he’d shave at some point today and trim his mustache, or he’d ask you to trim it. 

The newspaper he’d grabbed from outside your front door was unrolled and laid out beside his plate for him to read as he ate. He did that almost every morning, reading while eating breakfast. Except he wasn’t reading right now, nor was he eating. He was too busy watching with interest as you took your first bite, as if he were waiting for you to need something he could help you with. Now that you thought about it, he insisted on doing most of the cooking prep earlier, and he helped you put on your socks, which was a little weird, but you humored him because he was so happy. 

Wait, was he babying you? Did he feel that you were in some delicate state that required assistance? Whatever it was, he was too focused on you to care about his own food, and you didn’t like that or the babying one bit. You would have to address the elephant in the room so he’d cool it and eat. 

You swallowed your bite, wiping your mouth with a napkin as you met his gaze. “I’ll take one,” you said. 

He smiled. “Really?” 

“If it will get you to chill out and eat your breakfast, yeah, I’ll do it.”

His chair scraped across the floor as he suddenly stood straight up and held out his hand. “Let’s go.” 

Your eyes widened. “I meant after we eat. The food will get cold.” 

“I’ll heat it up. Let’s go.” 

He was determined, so you held up a finger and raised your glass of water to your lips, taking a few big gulps. The cup was returned to the table, and you got up, accepting your husband’s offered hand. He made you giggle when he pretty much dragged you out of the kitchen, through the living room, and into your bedroom to your final destination—the en suite. 

The bathroom’s light flicked on, and Javi bent down to get into the cabinet under the sink. He picked up something and straightened, facing you, his attention on what was in his hands. The long rectangular box was soft in its colors, mostly white with a touch of blue. Bold letters on the front declared, ‘Clearblue Pregnancy Test.’ Your husband lifted it close to his face, his eyes squinting as he read the tiny text on the back, containing the instructions. 

His excitement and impatience were due to the fact that your period was three days late and your breasts had been sore. He had bugged you yesterday to take a pregnancy test, one of the dozen or so he bought when he stopped by the drugstore on his way home from work. You told him there were many times you were one to two days late, and you wanted to wait—you felt like it was too early. Apparently, he took that as if your period still hadn’t come today—day three—that meant there was definitely a chance you were knocked up. 

“Does it say to pee on the stick and wait four to five minutes for the results?” you asked. 

That was standard these days. Earlier in the decade, you had to wait ten minutes for an at-home pregnancy test. Back in the eighties? Thirty minutes. Waiting in a limbo thick with uncertainty for that long sounded like a nightmare, and you were thankful for how far science had come.

He looked at you. “Yeah.” 

“This isn’t my first pregnancy test rodeo.” His eyebrows creased, and you realized how that sounded. Before he could respond, you clarified, “In general. I’ve never personally taken an at-home one, but I’ve had to test patients for pregnancy many, many times at work, and it’s a pretty similar process.” You were a nurse, formerly in the ER, and now in the post-anesthesia care unit (PACU), or, in layperson’s terms, the post-operation department. “A pregnancy test is basically standard procedure when treating a female patient of childbearing age.” 

His face relaxed, and he nodded. He passed you the box, which you immediately opened at the top. 

His beaming smile was back, and he rubbed your upper arms. “I’m gonna go grab the egg timer from the kitchen. I’ll be right back.” He kissed your forehead, followed by your lips, and went on his way. His socked feet padded across the floor as he headed to the kitchen. This was his way of giving you privacy, and you appreciated it. 

You shut the bathroom door and pulled out the test, leaving the empty box on the countertop. Your heart rate picked up in speed. It’d be a lie if you said you weren’t nervous. This plastic stick in your hand had the power to change your entire life with just the appearance of two little lines. In a matter of minutes, it was going to bring you happiness or sadness, and what a nerve-wracking prospect that was.

Taking the pregnancy test was straightforward. When you finished, you laid the stick upside down on the counter so you couldn’t see the results. Javi returned as you were washing your hands. He set the timer to four minutes and put it on the vanity next to the test. He stepped behind you, his arms going around your middle, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. It made you smile as you looked in the mirror, seeing the brown hair on the top of his head resting on your shoulder. You turned off the faucet and dried your hands on the towel hanging on the wall to your left. 

“Javi?” 

His head lifted to meet your eyes in the reflection, smiling. “Yes, Cielito?”

You spun around in his arms to be chest-to-chest with him. Something that happened frequently was getting easily distracted by his handsomeness, as you were now. Admiring his big, chocolate-colored eyes, his full lips beneath his mustache, his nose, and the mess of hair on his head. You couldn’t help but think about how he had a face the ancients would’ve carved into marble to immortalize his beauty. If you could, you’d commission a bust of him to immortalize his beauty. Too bad that wasn’t a thing people did anymore. 

“Cielito?” he repeated to get your attention. 

That pulled you from your reverie. “Oh, right. Sorry. Your pretty face distracted me.” He chuckled. “Anyways, it’s time for a pep talk.” Your palms were resting against his shirt-covered chest. 

His smile didn’t waver. “You’re worried about me.” 

“You’re really excited, and I don’t want you to be heartbroken if it’s negative.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m ready.”

“First of all, I love you.” 

He quickly pecked you on the lips while his hands rubbed along your sides. “I love you, too.” 

You smiled, your gaze locked onto his. “And I love how excited you are. It’s adorable, but I kindly ask that you do not baby me.”

He frowned, his palms pausing. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Save that for when I’m super pregnant and can barely move. It will be greatly appreciated.” 

The corners of his lips lifted, and his hands continued their path up and down your ribs. “I can do that.” 

“Thank you. Now, my period being three days late is abnormal. It could possibly indicate pregnancy. However, it might be a side effect of getting off my birth control last month, and my cycle is now messed up—I definitely have my fingers crossed that it’s because I’m knocked up, though. And, hey, if I’m not, we’ll try again next month. It won’t be the end of the world. What we have to remember is this can take time.” 

“You’re right.” He nodded.

“Glad we agree. So, what I’m trying to say is if the result isn’t what we’re hoping for, don’t be too sad, okay? If it’s not today, then maybe it will be next month. We’re just having a good, horny time, babe, and it will happen when it’s meant to happen. You got that, my handsome husband?” 

He snorted. “I’ve got it, my beautiful wife.”

“Great! Go, team!” You held up your hand for a high-five. 

His eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled, looking fondly amused. He did what you wanted, slapping his palm against your smaller one in a satisfying smack. He cupped your jaw. “I am so fucking in love with you.”

“And I am so fucking in love with you.” To end the sentence, you poked him over his heart. He grabbed your hand, putting your palm onto his chest for you to feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat. It matched your own, the nerves and excitement making them beat in quick succession. 

He leaned into you, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss. It lasted until the timer’s bell started ringing. You broke apart and looked at each other. 

“Do you want to flip it?” you asked. “Or do you want me to?” 

“Will you?” 

Your mouth curved up. “Yes, I can.” You moved a couple of steps and turned toward the counter, Javi taking his place at your back. He had his arms around you, holding you as he looked over your shoulder, watching you pick up the pregnancy test. “Okay. Three… Two… One…” You flipped the stick over.

One line. 

Not pregnant.

It was a quiet kind of heartbreak—no big moment, nothing dramatic, just a line that didn’t show up. It was something so simple, yet the weight was heavy enough to sink your hopeful heart. 

You let out a disappointed sigh and reminded yourself of what you told Javier. 

It would happen, so there was no need to be too sad. You will try again next month. 

Your husband’s arms lightly squeezed you as he cleared his throat. It was comforting to have him here with you, and knowing how you were feeling. “It’s okay,” he whispered. Your eyes found his in the mirror, seeing his sad little smile. “It’ll happen. This just wasn’t our month, and that’s fine. We’ll try again. I love you, mi amor (my love).” He kissed that spot behind your ear, and your free hand went up behind you to slide your fingers into the hair at the back of his head. 

“I love you, too. Thank you, Javi.” 

He looked at you in the reflection again. “For what?” 

“Everything.” You smiled. “Being here and going through this with me.” 

He shared your expression. “You’re the only person I’d ever want to do this with, and I’ll always be here. You know that. This is our life that we’re sharing together.” 

“Yes, it is our life.” Your nails scratched at his scalp. “We’re the motherfucking Peñas, baby, and we’ve got this.” 

“Yes, we fucking do.” 

“I think it’s time we throw this pee stick away, wash our hands, and go eat our breakfast. I am starving.”

“Let’s go, Cielito.” He kissed your cheek. “I’ll heat up our plates.” 

You turned around to face him again. 

“And you need to read your newspaper. Did you even notice today’s front page story?”

He looked a little sheepish. “No… I wasn’t paying attention to it…” 

Because his entire focus was on you—adorable. 

“You’re going to love it. It’s about that huge ass drug bust.” A few days ago, the U.S. Coast Guard seized almost 10,000 pounds of cocaine from a freighter on its way to Texas in one of the largest busts in U.S. history. Javier had obviously been absorbing all the news and had spoken to Steve Murphy, who still worked for the DEA in Florida, a couple of nights ago, to find out everything he knew. 

Your husband smiled. “I probably won’t learn anything new, but it’s interesting seeing what the government is willing to share with the media.”

“Do you feel cool having an inside man who gives you all of the dirty deets?” 

He huffed in amusement. “Yes.”

“Chismoso (Gossiper).”

“Ay!” He pinched your hip, and you laughed. “Tú también eres una chismosa (You are a gossiper, too). Te encanta chismear (You love to gossip).” 

“You bet that tiny little ass of yours I do. Which, holy shit, we were so distracted by the pregnancy stuff I forgot to tell you the hottest goss I heard yesterday.” You meant to share it with him when he got home from work the previous day—it was too juicy for over the phone—but he threw you off when he arrived with a grocery bag full of pregnancy tests and an eagerness for you to take one. “Buckle up for this one, babe.” 

“Cuéntame el chisme, mi amor (Tell me the gossip, my love),” he said, already invested. His hands found their home on your waist. 

“Hold on, let me toss this.” Your body twisted to throw the plastic stick into the little waste bin beside the vanity. Your attention returned to him. “Okay, so Robyn’s mom heard from a friend who is the mother of a girl that works the front desk at the Laredo Police Department and is dating one of the cops—” Javi was employed by the county Sheriff and wasn’t on the best terms with the local police because their Chief was his ex, Lorraine’s, uncle. “—that her policeman boyfriend pulled over a man for running a stoplight on the road coming into town from Mexico.”

“He ran a red, okay.” He nodded. 

“In the middle of the night on a weekday,” you continued. “Think early, early morning when the only people out are those who stayed for last call at the bar and are on their way home.”

He frowned, his weight shifting to one side. “The border has less security that late at night, and it’d be even worse on a weekday. That’s pretty fucking suspicious.” 

“I can see where your head is at, but there was zero mention of drugs.” 

His eyebrows pulled together. “Huh, okay…” The wheels were turning behind his eyes as he tried to figure out where this was going.

“The man wasn’t alone in the car.” 

He perked up. “A woman?” 

“Yes, a younger woman who was definitely not his wife.” 

“Oh shit, who’s the guy?” 

There was no way you could keep yourself from grinning. “Lorraine’s husband.”

His eyes rounded. “Shut the fuck up,” he breathed. 

“I called it.” Referring to a confrontation you had with the other woman on Javier’s birthday when you told her that it wouldn’t surprise you if her husband were cheating on her. 

Javi’s shock evolved into giddiness, his eyes practically disappearing from smiling so big. “You fucking called it! Karma’s a bitch.”

“Not Karma. Her name is Lorraine.” 

That made you both burst into laughter that echoed off the bathroom walls. His happiness had him pulling you into his arms, crushing you against his body. With all of the bullshit Lorraine put Javier through, you felt little guilt celebrating her husband’s alleged infidelity. To be honest, the two of you needed this right now. Something to drown the sorrow you were both feeling and trying to hide. Something to take your minds off that single line that wasn’t the result you’d been hoping for. 

In the back of your mind, you wondered if maybe it was too early and there wasn’t enough of the hormones in your body for the pregnancy test to pick up. The other thing was that the result might be a false negative. Or maybe you were right about your cycle being messed up, and your period would start any day now. 

You didn’t want that last possibility to be true.   

They had a Star Wars-themed wall calendar in the kitchen on which they jotted down their plans for each month and marked important dates. Javier looked at it every morning, counting down the days to various events. For January, he couldn’t wait for the dates during the first week, which were outlined in green and indicated that it was highly likely for his wife to get pregnant. Their wedding day had pink around its edges and was filled with little hearts and ‘Wedding’ written over them in black Sharpie. Then, there were the days between this week and next that he’d been looking forward to, marked in red along their borders. 

These were the dates that would tell them whether they had succeeded in their mission for a baby. 

The first day Cielito’s period was late, he didn’t let himself get too excited, because one day was nothing. That had happened before. But two days? That was new. Yesterday, when he went to the hospital to have lunch with her, and she confirmed it still hadn’t begun and that her tits hurt, that was when he finally gave in to his excitement. That led him to stop by the drugstore after work and fill a metal basket with every pregnancy test on the shelf—every. Single. One. 

There were eleven. 

Who needed eleven pregnancy tests?

The cashier, who was probably in her late teens or early twenties, was chewing a wad of gum loudly. After he piled almost a dozen little boxes onto the counter, the smacking stopped, and she looked him dead in the eyes. 

“You need any more from the back?” 

“I don’t even need this many.” 

When he got home, his wife refused to take a test, and he respected her decision. It was her choice, and he sure as hell wouldn’t try to force her to do something she didn’t want to do. He could wait. He was impatient as fuck, but he’d wait for her. Because she used to take her birth control religiously, she knew when she could expect her period every month. She told him there were times when she was one to two days late, but she had never hit three. With it still not arriving today, the third day, it made him assume there was a definite chance she was pregnant.

Javier was over the goddamn moon when he woke up this morning. The fact that there was even a possibility his wife was knocked up had him beyond excited. He had felt giddy to an almost embarrassing degree—like a kid on Christmas about to open the biggest present under the tree. A grin broke over his face when he got out of bed, and he wore it for so long that his cheeks hurt. 

An interesting development was that just the thought that Cielito could be carrying his child had awakened something deep within his DNA, making him want to take care of her. He didn’t want her to lift a finger. It took a lot for him to rein it in and not do everything for her because he knew she would hate that. Apparently, he didn’t tone it down enough since she did notice he was babying her. He’d have to work on that in the future.

As they got ready for their day and cooked breakfast together, his thoughts raced—cribs, tiny socks, her belly growing—each one sweeter than the last and only fueled the hope that threatened to burst from his chest. He waited for her to bring up the pregnancy test, and the moment the words ‘I’ll take one’ left her lips at the kitchen table, a current of electricity shot through him. His heart thudded wildly and loudly as if it was going to leap from his body and dance across the room. 

There was no way he could hold out until after eating to find out if he finally had an excuse to buy that cute little leather jacket he’d been eyeing in the baby section at Sears. They’d started browsing kid stuff when they went to department stores. Javier was going to go broke buying their kid clothes, but at least they’d have the best-dressed child in Laredo. 

He was thankful when she went along with him and even more thankful for the pep talk. He could admit that he got too excited when the probability of a negative result was so high. Javier had even researched the odds of conceiving in the first month and knew there was only a 30% chance of success. He shouldn’t have gotten ahead of himself, but his heart didn’t listen. The thought spread like wildfire, and he let himself get caught up in imagining their life with a baby. The three of them in the kitchen, their son or daughter sitting in a highchair watching them cook, or him and Cielito holding the baby between them as they danced while something simmered on the stove. He pictured the outfits he’d dress their child in, whether a boy or a girl, and how adorable they’d look in their tiny leather jacket that matched his. 

He got caught up in his dream of having a wife and kid, and a single line on a pregnancy test crushed it. 

When Javier saw the disappointment and heartbreak on his wife’s face in the mirror’s reflection, his stomach dropped. He immediately regretted pestering her to take the test. He should have waited until she felt it was the right time to check. He could see now that when she refused yesterday, she had been trying to save him from this exact situation. She hoped it wasn’t true, but she’d had a strong suspicion the delay was an issue from stopping her birth control.

The giddy, weightless feeling he’d carried all morning turned into something heavier. Sadness settled in, grief for what almost was. 

He tried to smile and comfort her. He did his best to reassure her that this was just a little bump in the road, and it’d happen; she’d get pregnant. They would try again next month. After they talked and laughed, there was still a gentle ache in his chest, a hollow space where hope bloomed too fast and too bright. But beneath the sorrow was something stronger—love. He loved her so fucking much, and he knew everything was going to be okay. 

Now, it was later in the evening at their apartment. The sun had set, and they had already eaten their homemade lasagna, which they had spent two hours making for dinner. They were in the living room, his wife sitting back on a cushion against the couch’s arm. Javier was in his favorite place: between her legs. He was lying on his stomach with his head pillowed on her belly, her bare legs bracketing his sides as he watched an action movie marathon on cable. She was aimlessly playing with his hair with one hand, while the other held the book she was reading—one of her dirty books. He asked what the plot was, and she told him it was about a nurse who accidentally traveled back in time. 

Aside from the television’s low volume, they’d been sitting in a comfortable silence for a while. He loved how happy and content they were just being in the same room together.

“Do you want ice cream?” she asked. 

It was an awkward angle for him to move his head and look at her. Her fingers had paused in his hair, and the book was out of the way for her to meet his eyes. He frowned. “I think I ate the last of what we had in the freezer last night.” It was butter pecan flavor, and he definitely ate it. 

She smiled. “From the empty carton in the trash you licked clean, yeah, babe, you did.” 

He snorted. “I used a spoon. My head wouldn’t fit. Where does my wife want ice cream from?” 

“Well, it’s—” She looked over at the wall clock above the entertainment center, then back at him. “—8:30, so our choices are the grocery store, McDonald’s, whose ice cream machine is most likely broken, or Dairy Queen.” 

“Why did I ask? You want Dairy Queen.” 

“Of course I want Dairy Queen.” 

“Okay, mi amor.” His hands were on her ribs, and he rubbed them. “I know I’m not allowed to wear my sweatpants outside the apartment—” Because his dick was too noticeable. “—but it’s late, we’re not getting out of the truck, and I don’t want to change into jeans, so I’m keeping them on.” He wore the same outfit as that morning: grey sweatpants and a white T-shirt.

“That’s fine. If the line is super long, it’ll make it easier for me to blow you.” She wiggled her eyebrows. 

Dairy Queen was the place everyone went to when they wanted ice cream late at night, as it was open until eleven on the weekends. Back in high school, it was where he and his friends would go after swim meets and football games. The place's popularity meant the drive-thru line could get a little crazy sometimes, not to mention the packed dining room.

He chuckled. “You’re getting bolder with the public shit, and I don’t know if I should be worried or turned on.” 

She smirked. “Both?” 

“Both? You’re a fucking temptress, and I’m in love with you.”

“I love you, too. So, is that a yes to the risky blow job? No? Maybe?”

“It’s a ‘there’d be too many people around, and I don’t want to take that kind of risk.’” His truck was lifted enough that a standard car couldn’t see what was going on below the dashboard. Another pickup, though, which the town was full of? They’d see everything, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with the police.

She pouted. “You’re no fun.” 

His eyebrow lifted. “Because I’m keeping us from getting arrested?”

“Yes.” 

“I’m sorry for being responsible. Now go get dressed, baby.” He patted her sides. “We’ll get you some ice cream.” 

“Okay.” She marked her place in the book with a bookmark. “Off.”

Oh, right. He’d need to get off of her. Before he did, he shoved his face against her soft stomach and shook his head. 

“Stop that,” she squirmed, pushing on his hair. “I really have to pee.”

“Sorry,” he grunted, pushing himself up onto his arms, then getting onto his knees. He helped her untangle her legs from him, and she swung them off the couch, leaning forward to set her novel on the coffee table. 

“I’m gonna use the bathroom and get ready,” she said as she stood up. His wife was wearing an oversized shirt and a little pair of sleep shorts. She giggled when he smacked her ass as she walked past him. “You keep looking pretty.” 

He smiled and sat correctly on the sofa, his feet planted on the floor. While he waited, his attention returned to the TV. It was the second Terminator movie, the first played before it.

Not even three minutes passed when there was movement to his left, and his head turned to see Cielito coming his way from their bedroom. He frowned because she hadn’t changed, and then he saw the look on her face, and he became worried: her glassy eyes and that small, tight tremble in her chin. It was the one she got when she was trying really, really hard not to cry. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

She didn’t respond. Instead, she crawled into his lap, sitting across it and tucking her head under his chin. Automatically, he wrapped his arms around her. 

“What’s wrong?” he tried again. “What happened?” 

Her voice cracked when she answered, “I started my period.” For the second time today, his heart plummeted, and it broke into a thousand pieces when her body began to shake with sobs. 

“Oh, baby.” He hugged her closer to him, tilting his head to rest his cheek on her hair. “It’s okay, mi amor. I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay.”  

“Why do I feel so sad?” she cried, gripping his T-shirt tightly, tears soaking the cotton. 

He understood why. A small part of themselves clung to the idea that maybe the test was wrong, or it was too early to tell. This slammed those doors shut. It was the nail in the coffin. This made it final. There’d be no miracle, no surprise, no second line appearing late. Just… No. And it fucking hurt, but not in a loud, pronounced way. It was something deep and dull, making their chests feel heavy and ache.

His eyes burned, and he ignored the tightness in his throat. “Because it is sad, Cielito. We wanted it so fucking bad. Even with trying not to get our hopes up, it was already real in our minds, and now we’re feeling that loss.” 

She pressed her face against his chest like she was trying to disappear into him. “I did want it bad,” her words were muffled. She’d calmed down enough; she was sniffling, and he could still feel her tears wetting his shirt. “It feels silly to be this upset over nothing.” 

“It isn’t nothing, and it’s okay to be sad, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I’m sad, too. I’m fucking devastated.  But you know what? This shit we’re feeling? It’s temporary. A day or two from now, it’ll pass.”

“Will it?”

“I think so, once we accept that what you said earlier is true, that this isn’t the end of the world, and it can take time. Remember, this was our first shot, and we get to try again next month. We’re just gonna keep having a good time, and it’ll happen when it’s meant to happen.”  

“I wanted it to happen now.” 

He huffed out a breath. “I did, too, mi amor, I really fucking did. For now, though, we can be sad together. Is there anything I can do that’d make you feel better?”

“Just keep holding me, please.” 

He smiled and kissed her temple, squeezing her tighter. “I won’t let go.” 

“Can we still get ice cream?”

“Absolutely, baby. We’ll get you ice cream.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Nothing to thank me for.” He pecked her head again. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

He held her close with his nose in her hair, smelling her floral-scented shampoo. He’d stay like this for however long was necessary to make her feel better. Frankly, he needed this, too. The comfort. It was soothing to have her in his arms, inhaling her familiar scent. 

Javier felt guilty about today. He knew it was his fault they were so sad. His wife was the more rational of the two of them and was aware of the statistics. She knew her body. She’d even saved him from the heartbreak yesterday when she refused to take a pregnancy test. Yet, today, he got ahead of himself, letting his optimism run rampant, and all it did was give them a false sense of hope that ultimately led to their sorrow. He wouldn’t let that happen again. He couldn’t do that to Cielito. It killed him to see her like this. Next month, he was going to leave it up to her to decide when she felt it was the right time to take a test, or maybe her period would start before they even had a chance, but they’d be ready. They knew what to expect, and it wouldn’t be as bad as today. 

They wanted a baby, and now more than ever, that desire wasn’t going away. They just had to be patient, which would be hard, but it wasn’t impossible. 

The line for Dairy Queen wrapped around the building. They were idling in the middle of the parking lot, with four cars ahead of them to reach the drive-thru menu board. Javier was on the driver’s side of his truck, and his wife was beside him in the middle of the bench seat. Her upper body was turned his way, her fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head while he held her other hand on her leggings-covered thigh. 

He could tell she was feeling better as she smiled at him and told him terrible puns like, ‘Why don’t oysters donate to charity? Because they’re shellfish.’

“You wanna hear another one?” 

He was smiling, staring at her beautiful face. “Yes.” 

“What do you call someone with no body and no nose?”

“What are they called?” 

With a straight face, she deadpanned, “Nobody knows.” 

He laughed. Javier knew why she was doing this. It was something she did at work to cheer up her patients, telling them dumb jokes and puns to make them laugh. She understood that the hospital was the last place they wanted to be, and she did her best to make it as pleasant an experience as possible. That was one of the things he loved about her. She genuinely cared about strangers. Just look at how they met; she came in out of nowhere to help him because that was who she was as a person. 

“Where do you get these?” he asked. 

“It’s a mix of ones I’ve heard and the pun book I keep at work.”

“Of course, you have a book.” 

“I’ll show it to you next time you stop by.”

“I’d like that. Can I hear another one? Give me a fucking awful one.” 

The car in front of them moved forward, so they did, too. For a second, his eyes got caught on the splash of color dangling from the rearview mirror. It was his wife’s wedding garter, the loop of dusty blue satin covered in an overlay of ivory floral lace, with a small satiny bow in the center. It was going to be put in the box with her wedding dress, his black bow tie, and lavender pocket square, but he preferred to keep it in his truck as another reminder of the best day of his life. 

His attention returned to her, and he could see her delight. “I can do that.” She nodded. “What’s orange and sounds like a parrot?” 

That one he didn’t get right away. When ten seconds passed, and he still didn’t know the answer, he asked, “What is it?” 

“A carrot.” 

Javier groaned, and she giggled. “I have a story about a parrot,” he said. 

He glanced through the front windshield to move them up one more spot before looking at her again. 

Her eyes shone with interest. “Color me intrigued.” He loved the feeling of her fingers slipping through his hair. 

“Back in Colombia, before we got Escobar, we received intel that one of his mid-level sicarios, who we thought we could flip, was working out of this house in one of the comunas—those were the poorer parts of the city and some of the most dangerous. So, we get this intel that the guy is there, and we go to bust him. With how we had the operation planned, there was no way he would’ve known we were coming until we were on his ass. I’m running up along the front of the building with my gun drawn, and I hear this shouting, “Corre! Corre! Corre! (Run! Run! Run!)” I’m thinking, fuck, how did they spot us? How did they know we were already here? We get inside, and aside from a couple of kilos of coke, the place is empty. We checked the surrounding area, and the sicario had vanished. Just gone. You wanna know who tipped him off?” 

She was grinning. “You better fucking say it was a parrot.” 

“A fucking parrot!” 

“Oh my god!” she laughed. 

The situation made him distrustful of talking birds. 

“They trained this damn parrot to alert them if it saw the police coming, and this fucker was obedient as hell. One of the men from Search Bloc—that was the local law enforcement unit we worked with—seized the bird and tried to interrogate it.” 

“The parrot? He tried to interrogate the bird…?”

He smiled. It was as dumb as it sounded. “Yes, they tried to interrogate the parrot, and this avian asshole kept his beak shut. After we took him, he didn’t say a single fucking thing. Even had a vet look at him, and they couldn’t get him to talk.”

They moved forward again. 

“What happened to the drug-dealing parrot?” 

Javier snorted. “Sapo.”

“Sapo?”

“His name was Sapo. It’s Colombian slang for ‘snitch.’”

“That is amazing. What happened to Sapo? And lie to me if he died.” 

He frowned. “He got to live, but he was arrested and charged with aiding and abetting. It’s a serious crime, so he was sentenced to life behind bars—” Her eyes went wide. “—of a bird cage.” 

She glared and pulled his hair. “You jackass.”

Javier laughed. He reached across his body to caress her cheek, his face following to kiss her lips. “But you still love me,” he murmured into her mouth and kissed her again. 

“Yes,” was her muffled reply. “I still love you.” 

A horn honked behind them, and it was his turn to glare as he broke away from Cielito to look in the rearview mirror to see what asshole interrupted their moment. It was Terry from the hardware store, and he had to resist the urge to flip the man off as they slowly approached the menu board to place their order. He hit the button to roll down his window. 

“Hi, one moment, please,” crackled through the shitty speaker. 

His head turned to his wife. “Small or medium.”

“Small.” 

“Okay,” he nodded. 

“Thank you for your patience. May I take your order?” the employee asked. 

Javier faced the menu board. “My wife would like—” He ordered the Blizzard she wanted and got one for himself, with crushed Heath bar in it. He liked the vanilla soft-serve ice cream with crunchy bits of milk chocolate-covered toffee and almonds mixed in. 

“Anything else?”

“That’s it.” 

“We’ll see you at the window.”

“Thank you.”

The car in front of them had already moved, so they pulled forward one spot. There were three vehicles between them and the window.

Cielito removed her hand from his hair so she could reach into her purse on the passenger seat and pull out her wallet. Usually, when they went out, Javier was the one to pay, and he would buy their ice cream tonight, however—

She held up her credit card and pointed at her last name. “What does this say?” 

He smiled. “Peña.” 

“Wait!” She went back into her wallet to get her driver’s license and raised it for him to see, but conveniently covered her photo with her finger. She thought it was worse than her last one, which she described as looking like ‘a mugshot if she’d been arrested for public intoxication.’ “What’s my legal name?” she asked. 

It made him chuckle, and he said it, her first name rolled off his tongue, followed by Peña.

Her happiness was contagious. “Hell yeah, it is!”

His wife’s new driver’s license, credit cards, and debit card with her married name had all arrived over the last few days, and she had been insisting on paying for things to show them off. The day her driver’s license arrived, they went out so she could order a drink and get carded.

It was adorable. 

As soon as she had a chance, his wife had gone in to change her name. She told him nothing had ever felt more freeing than filling out the paperwork and leaving her old life behind. To say she was excited about being Mrs. Peña was an understatement, and it filled him with joy.

“I love you,” he told her before closing the distance to kiss her. 

He could feel her smiling. She replied into his lips, “I love you, too.” 

When the kiss came to an end, he nuzzled his nose against her. “I’m really fucking happy you’re a Peña, too.”

“It feels so right.”

“‘Cause it is.”

He finally pulled back and noticed the vehicle in front of them was rolling forward, so they followed. 

She returned her license to her wallet and handed him her card. Javier sighed happily as her fingers went back into his hair, her nails lightly scratching his scalp.  

His head was turned her way. He watched as she rested her chin on his shoulder and hugged his arm. She had the sweetest smile on her face. 

“How are you?” he asked. 

“I’m okay. I’m not feeling crampy or bloated, so that’s a plus.”

“That’s good. If you need anything, you only have to ask.”

“Because you, sir, are the best husband in the entire world.”

He smiled. “Because that’s what you deserve as the best wife in the world.”

“Oh, stop it.”

“Never. But, aside from physically, how are you?”

“Um, still a little sad. I don’t want you to be alarmed if I cry more this weekend. Since it’s that time of the month, my hormones will be outta whack, and it might make me extra emotional.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I know.” 

He was familiar with her hormones fluctuating during her period and the potential mood swings. Last month, she had a day where one minute she was crying over dropping what remained of her chocolate chip cookie into her glass of milk, and the next she was so horny, she was begging him to fuck her. As she would say, she kept him on his toes, and he was thankful for all the years he worked in a profession where things changed at the drop of a hat. He knew how to adapt quickly. 

“Yes, you do. How are you?” she asked. 

“I’m okay.” He glanced toward the windshield and moved them up another spot.

“Really, or are you just saying that?” 

His eyes met hers again. “I’m as okay as I can be.” Javier took a deep breath and let it out. “Yeah, it was a shitty day, but we got through it, and that’s all that fucking matters.” 

She frowned. “Sure, but how do you feel?” 

He matched her expression. “I don’t know, I guess I’d say I still feel sad and disappointed, and that’s fine. Because I know these feelings will go away in a day or two.” 

“Okay, so, until that happens I’m gonna comfort the fuck out of you.” Her fingers were still playing in his hair, and her other arm was wrapped around his; she hugged it tighter.

He huffed. “I should be comforting you.” 

Her eyebrow rose. “What, because I’m a fragile woman?” 

The question made his eyes widen, and he gulped. Well, fuck, that was the wrong thing to say. 

Quickly, he answered, “No. It has nothing to do with you being a woman, and we both know you are anything but fragile. You are a strong, independent woman, who doesn’t even need an asshole like me, and I am so fucking thankful you put up with my bullshit.” 

“Chill out, babe. I’m messing with you.” That had him letting out a relieved breath. “I do, however, want to know why you feel like you should be comforting me?” 

He looked away. “Because I’m the reason we’re sad. I got too excited, and you felt like you had to take the pregnancy test. If I had just taken your lead and waited for when you thought it was time, we wouldn’t have been so crushed.” 

She sat up in her seat. “Look at me.” He did. “Stop blaming yourself. It wasn’t your fault. To be honest, I would’ve cried when I got my period with or without the test, and I’d be just as devastated. We were both excited and hopeful. You did nothing wrong.” 

“Okay.” 

He couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt even with her reassurance.

“Don’t do that, Javier.” 

“Do what?” 

“You’re still blaming yourself, and I won’t have that.” 

He sighed. “I’m sorry.” What else could he say? 

Her arm unlooped from his, and she held up her pinkie. 

“I pinkie promise that it wasn’t your fault and that you did nothing wrong, and what are pinkie promises, Javi?” 

He smiled. “Sacred.” He wrapped his larger pinkie finger around her smaller one. 

“Yes, they fucking are.” 

Other people would probably think it was crazy that a simple gesture could bring so much relief. But for Javier and his wife, it was true, pinkie promises were sacred. They bound their agreements to the same degree as the vows they made on their wedding day, and they could also be the equivalent of a sworn oath. By pinkie promising, what they said was the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Breaking the symbolic gesture wasn’t even fathomable to either of them. 

“Feel better?” she asked. 

“Yes.” With their pinkies interlocked, he pulled her to him for a quick kiss. When they separated, they were smiling. 

“Well, I’m glad we cleared that up. So, here’s how this is gonna go, babycakes. I won’t be the sole comfort-ee, seeing as this situation affects us both. I got to be held by you while I cried earlier, and tonight, you’re gonna be my little spoon, so I can hold you while you’re a sad boy. Crying is optional, but highly recommended for the catharsis.”

His lips crooked up a little. “I like your plan.” 

“Good. Go team!” She lifted her hand, and Javier laughed as he smacked it with his own.

Her arm went around his again, and he reached across his body to stroke her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Thank you.” 

“Nothing to thank me for. Gotta say, we’re really rocking this marriage thing. 

He smiled. “Yes, we are. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

It was hazy, the edges of your vision blurry. The red thread that stretched out before you, however, was vibrant, leading you down a hallway and around corners. You knew this hospital, recognizing the color on the walls, and passing rooms that flickered between memory and something dreamlike, the scenes out of focus. You didn’t know where you were going as you walked, and walked, and walked. It felt like you were stuck in a maze from all the turns, and it seemed endless, walking miles and miles until it finally ended—the red thread leading you into a room.

It wasn’t a hospital room. 

Instead of fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over sterile white walls, they were painted in a shade of daffodil yellow. There was a rocking chair in the corner and, directly in front of you, a person blocking the view of a crib. Even from behind, you knew that brown hair, you knew those shoulders, and that back. You knew the voice, the deep rasp, but words you couldn’t make out. He was talking, and no matter how hard you tried, you understood nothing. You took one step toward him, then two, reaching your hand out to touch him. Suddenly, the thread snaked its way around your waist, and when you tried to move, it only tightened, pulling you back. A dull, dragging ache began to bloom low in your belly, growing deeper, sharper. Your hands went to your stomach to try and get free, but they sank right through, the thread tugging you like an invisible weight. The walls closed in, and searing pain had your eyes snapping open, your heart pounding as a fiery cramp twisted through your lower abdomen. 

“Ow,” you said into the darkness. “Fuck.” 

Beneath the blankets, it was cozy and warm. With wearing a t-shirt and underwear while spooning your human furnace of a husband, the bed was bordering on too hot. You didn’t know if the bead of sweat on your forehead was because of the heat or the pain. Another sharp cramp clenched in your belly, causing you to hiss through gritted teeth, “Jesus Christ.”  

Javi’s body tensed, waking from hearing you. Your arm was draped over his bare middle, and he grabbed your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Cielito?” he whispered. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m cramping really bad,” you replied just as quietly. “My uterus is being a real dick.” 

Immediately, he turned over to face you and rubbed his palm along your arm. His voice was huskier from sleep, “What can I do? Hot water bottle? Pain meds?”

You didn’t want to bother him. Unfortunately, you weren’t going to have much choice with how it felt as though your insides were being wrung out. Each cramp was more relentless than the last, and you needed some kind of relief. 

“Both,” you answered. 

“Okay, mi amor.” He pecked you on the lips before rolling to his other side and throwing the blankets off his body. He groaned when he stood up. The room was almost pitch black, but you could still make out the dark mass of his body as he walked to the bedroom door. 

Apparently, your uterus wanted to rub it in your face that you weren’t pregnant. 

Fucking rude. 

The pain was so bad that you closed your eyes and pulled your knees up, curling into yourself. You hoped the thicker overnight pad you were wearing was enough to keep you from bleeding through and staining the sheets. Minutes must have passed, as you heard Javi shut the bedroom door, followed by the light clunk of him setting a glass of water on his nightstand. 

“Are your eyes closed?” he whispered. 

“Yes.” 

He turned on his lamp. 

“Do you need help sitting up?”

That was something you could do. “No. Thank you, though.” With that, you unfurled yourself, sitting up, and crisscrossing your legs. Another sharp cramp had you hissing and your hand pressing to your stomach in hopes it’d help. 

“Here, baby,” your husband said. 

You blinked open your eyes and accepted the two white pills he dropped into your palm. They went into your mouth, quickly taking the glass of water to wash them down, and handing him back the cup when you finished. 

Javi sat on the mattress, one leg dangling off. He passed you the hot water bottle, its rubber surface slightly worn from years of use and faded to a muted maroon. You clutched it to your abdomen, the soothing heat seeping into your skin and muscles, easing some of the discomfort. Your husband’s hand was rubbing circles on your back. 

“Thank you,” you told him as you leaned to rest your head on his shoulder. 

He kissed your hair. “You’re welcome. Should I grab the towel?” 

He meant the sex towel, which was a big, thick, black towel you put down when you fooled around on your period, or did anything messy. It made cleanup easier and saved you from having to change out your sheets in the middle of the night. 

And this wasn’t him propositioning you. It was his sweet way of offering to help relieve some of the pain by getting you off with your preferred method, and with zero expectation or want of reciprocation. Basically, he was offering you a medicinal orgasm. 

He really was the best husband in the world.  

“I already feel bad for waking you up,” you answered. 

“I’d rather you wake me up than suffer alone, and you know that.” You did, but you still didn’t like bothering him. “Let me help. What sounds good? You wanna start with fingers, and go from there?”

“Tomorrow, when I’m feeling better, I am going to give you the sloppiest blow job.” 

He chuckled. “Is that a yes to my fingers?” 

“It is a yes, with an added pretty please.” 

“You got it, cariño (sweetheart). I’m gonna go get the towel.” He kissed your head again, then got off the bed. 

Even as you experienced another painful spasm, it cheered you up to ogle your husband’s naked butt as he walked toward the bathroom. There was a dark hickey on his right asscheek you left the other night, marking it as yours, that made you smile.

When Javier returned, you pushed the blankets to the end of the bed. He placed the towel under your lower half and had you lie on your side with him behind you, propping his head up with his arm. Automatically, you curled inwards, pulling your knees toward your stomach, but your husband intercepted your top leg, which he brought back to rest on him, opening up your thighs. The heated rubber bottle stayed against your tummy, held there by your hand. 

He leaned in, his lips at your ear as he whispered, “Are you comfortable?”

A pillow cushioned your head, and aside from the pain, you were comfortable. “Yes.”

“Good.” He kissed that spot behind your ear he knew drove you crazy while his fingertips skated along your inner thigh. Goosebumps rose on your skin. Just before his hand reached your panties, it left you for him to lick the pads of two fingers. Finally, he pushed his digits under the elastic waistband. Due to your current state, you were more sensitive, the hormones amplifying each touch. When his careful fingers swirled around your clit, the sensation had your eyes fluttering closed as you moaned his name. 

“That’s it, mi amor,” he purred. “Just relax, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Something you’d never take for granted was how lucky you were that you found a man who was comfortable doing stuff when you were on your period. It was a godsend when your pain was too much, like tonight, and with how unperturbed he was by it, it allowed you to truly relax and enjoy yourself. You had no reason to feel self-conscious that his knuckles touched the pad in your underwear, or that he’d get your blood on him. Between growing up on a cattle ranch and his work in Colombia, Javi had dealt with and seen much worse, and your normal bodily function was nothing in comparison.  

He started circling your bundle of nerves, and you whined at how good it felt. His mouth pressed to the shell of your ear, feeling his warm breath as he rasped, “You’re doing so good for me.” Slowly, he was building you up, the tension low in your stomach tightening. 

He kissed along the exposed skin of your neck, the tickle of his mustache and his fingers making you squirm.

His voice was low, “I fucking love you.” His digits dipped to tease at your entrance, slipping through the mess. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”  

He easily pushed one finger into you, then another. 

“Yes,” you gasped. It felt so good to have something filling you. 

“You like that? You like my fingers inside you?” 

“God, yes.” 

His digits pushed in deeper through the sticky wetness, and he crooked them, rubbing his fingertips along your upper wall, until he found that patch of nirvana that had you sucking in a breath, your eyes rolling back. 

“There it is,” he murmured. He focused on that spot with his fingers while the heel of his palm ground against your clit. “I love making you feel good.” 

The hot water bottle's heat was a lovely balm for the discomfort. When it was combined with him fingering you, the pain all but disappeared, and was replaced with neediness. Each slide of his digits and the friction on your tight bundle of nerves was pushing you closer and closer to coming, your thighs already trembling. 

“I can’t wait for our chance to try for a baby again,” he said. “Sex with you is always amazing, and I never thought it could get better until I got a real shot at knocking you up. You remember that, Cielito?”

How could you forget? According to your calculations, you should’ve ovulated during the first week of the month, but just to be safe, Javi and you fucked nonstop the first and second week. It was the hottest sex you’d ever had, and just the memory of it made your cunt clench around his fingers.

“Yes,” you answered. 

The smile was evident in his voice, “Yeah, you do. We get to do that again. I get to fuck you full of my come over and over again. Keep you all nice and stuffed, to the point your pussy will always have some of me in it.”

“Oh, god.” 

This man knew how to play you like a goddamn fiddle. Between his digits fucking into you just right, the attention to your clit, and the things he was saying, the coil in your belly was close to snapping. 

“My dirty girl, always wanting my come.” He kissed your neck, then nipped at your ear. 

Moans spilled from your lips of their own accord. Javi was into this just as much as you were, feeling his hard cock against your ass. Nine times out of ten after you received your medicinal orgasm, you felt so good that you asked him to fuck you, and he happily obliged. 

Tonight was heading in that direction, too. 

His fingers felt great, but they didn’t quench the needy ache in your core that only his dick could satisfy. There was also all of the baby-making talk—and your near future of being his little creampuff—that had you craving a creampie, and not of the dessert variety. He wasn’t wrong when he said you always wanted his come. Or maybe all of this was the horny talking because you haven’t had sex in a few days—after two solid weeks of fucking your brains out, a break was needed, especially after Javi got dehydrated last weekend. 

“I’m close,” your words came out in a gasp. 

“Come for me, baby,” he said. “Let me have it. It’ll make you feel better.” 

It was audibly wet where he was curling his digits in and out of you. It didn’t take much more to have you cresting, your body tensing up as his name was pushed from your lungs. The coil snapped, the awful pain from earlier exploding into waves of pleasure that rippled from your center to the tips of your fingers and toes. 

Javi’s voice was husky when he whispered in your ear, “Good girl.” He followed that with a myriad of gentle kisses along the side of your neck, his hand continuing to work you through your high. 

When all of the muscles in your body relaxed, you let out a satisfied sigh. This was just what you needed. With how boneless you felt, there was a chance you’d melt into the mattress. His fingers left you to rest his palm on your mound beneath your panties. His lips were still littering the side of your neck with kisses. It made you smile, and you let go of the lukewarm water bottle to reach behind you, slipping your fingers into his untidy hair—you loved when he had bedhead and let his curls run wild. 

He hummed in appreciation and lifted his mouth. “Feel better?” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

Javi leaned forward to kiss your cheek. “You’re welcome, mi amor. ” He nuzzled his nose against the spot his lips had been. “Should I clean up?”

Your leg came off of him for you to roll his way, facing him, his hand managing to stay in your underwear. The hair on his head was no longer the controlled mess from the previous morning; it was an actual mess, sticking up in places, with his bangs on his forehead, that you brushed away out of habit. 

“What if,” you started, “and I know this is a crazy suggestion. But what if you washed your hand so the sheets don’t get dirty and then—” you paused. 

He was smiling. “And then?”

“And then we, you know—” You wagged your eyebrows. “—while I’m feeling good.” 

Javi snorted. “We fuck?” 

“Yeah, we fuck, we go to Pound Town, we fold some laundry, we do the horizontal tango—you get the gist. I am asking you for some dick.” 

“And my answer is yes, no matter how you ask.” 

You smiled. “Good. Now, hurry before my uterus betrays me. Again.” 

“We don’t want that.” He pecked you on the tip of your nose. “I love you. I’ll be back,” he said, kissing you on the lips this time. 

“I love you, too.” 

He grunted when he got up from the bed, and once again, you found yourself staring at his ass as he headed to the bathroom. 

Who knew a butt could be so cute? And his back—god, his back. The lamplight was enough to see the definition of his muscles and to take in that honestly insane shoulder-to-waist ratio. There was a Polaroid on the fridge of Javi standing in the middle of the kitchen, facing away from you, while you held up a Dorito at the perfect angle and distance for it to hide his shoulders and back, illustrating how he was shaped like the cheesy chip. It delighted you that he went along with something so silly. It helped that he found your love for the comparison amusing. Plus, it made him feel pretty great about himself. 

He didn’t bother closing the bathroom door as he washed his hands at the sink, giving you a clear view of his profile. The glow of the bathroom’s lights painted his skin in gold. You were propped on one elbow, admiring the strength in his arms, the curve of his nose, and the adorable pudge of his soft belly. 

Javi must have felt you staring as his head suddenly turned your way. The moment your eyes met, your heart skipped a beat, and butterflies started fluttering in your tummy. It was crazy that even though you were married, he still made you feel like a high school girl with a crush sometimes. 

A slow smile tugged at his mouth. He shut off the water. “See something you like?” he asked. His gaze stayed on yours as he quickly dried his hands with the towel hanging on the wall beside the sink, before flicking off the bathroom light and heading back into the bedroom. 

You smiled. “I see a lot I like.” For emphasis, your eyes salaciously trailed up and down his body. 

He chuckled, low and warm as he walked toward the bed, his stiff cock bobbing at his hips. He gave you the same once-over, his desire obvious. His tongue peeked out, licking his bottom lip. “I see a lot I like, too.” 

His destination was the end of the bed, the mattress springs complaining as he crawled onto it. You sat back, sitting up on your arms, and out of habit, spreading your legs to give him room to kneel between them. 

He lifted your leg, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he peppered kisses from the inside of your ankle to your knee, making you shiver. Javi set the limb down. 

“You want my dick?” he asked, sliding his warm palms up your thighs. 

Arousal burned in your core. “More than anything.” 

He pushed the hem of your shirt up enough to bare your stomach. His hands went onto the bed beside your hips, as he bent forward to press his lips to the newly revealed skin just below your navel, placing a single kiss. 

His head rose. “More than anything, huh?” He kept his dark gaze on yours as he continued his journey up your body.

The want was evident on his face, and it had your heart rate picking up. “Yes.”  

“I’d better give it to you then.” He was close enough to smash his lips into yours, his hips settling in the cradle of your thighs, letting you feel his hardness.

Your weight went onto one arm to free a hand, threading your fingers into his hair, and pulling him down as you lay back on the mattress. Javi licked into your mouth, making you moan. He held himself up with a forearm beside your head, his free palm gliding over the bared skin of your belly and under your t-shirt to carefully cup your breast. 

His lips left yours to nibble on your chin. “How do you want it?” he asked, kissing along the underside of your jaw. 

“Like this,” you gasped. “Want you on top.” You had one hand in his hair, and the other clutching his shoulder blade. 

“As you wish, Mrs. Peña.” He kissed down your throat. “Shirt?” 

You frowned. “Stays on, please. My boobs are still sore.” They were tender, which was expected during this time of the month. That didn’t make it any less annoying when you usually loved his attention to your tits.

“No problem, cariño (sweetheart).” His hand came out of your t-shirt as he sat up onto his knees between your spread thighs. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them off your bent legs, and discarding them close by on the bed—he was mindful, ensuring your used pad didn’t touch the fitted sheet. He shuffled closer to you. His fingertips ghosted up the outside of your thigh, causing goosebumps to rise, while his free hand palmed his straining length. He watched you with a little smile. “You want it?” he asked, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit. 

You smiled. “Yes, Papí.” That had him groaning, his eyes squeezing shut before they opened again, his pupils blown wide, with only a sliver of brown around them. “Give it to me,” you said.

“It’s yours.” A statement of truth that thrilled you. He positioned himself at your aching entrance and the mess of arousal and blood, the slickness there allowing him to slide right in with one smooth thrust. Your mouth fell open. Not only were you overly sensitive, you were also tighter than normal, making him feel bigger, the delicious stretch stealing your breath. Javier was just as affected as you, his jaw slack. 

This was almost exactly what you wanted. He was too far away, and you reached toward him. He smirked, knowing what you needed, and fell forward onto his arms, your palms grabbing his smooth cheeks—he shaved that afternoon and trimmed his mustache. He was careful not to put any weight on your breasts. “Miss me?” he asked, pulling one of your legs up onto his ribs, then the other. 

“Always.” You tugged him down, and he lowered to his forearms, his lips meeting yours in a hungry kiss. Between his tongue slipping into your mouth and the rock of his hips, you had sparks dancing in your center. 

This was what you wanted—your husband on top of you, his dick inside you, and his lips on yours. You wanted him as close to you as humanly possible without crawling into his skin.

He started moving slowly at first, then building up to long, hard thrusts. With your legs high up on his sides, the angle had you going dizzy with every sweet drag of his cock over that perfect spot inside you. He adjusted his weight, holding himself up on one arm to slip his other hand between your bodies to play with your swollen clit. 

God, it was so fucking good. 

Your eyes were closed, your hands seeking out his ass for something to hold onto, gripping it. The muscles flexed under your palms as you pulled him deeper into you.

Every touch and sensation was bordering on overwhelming. A fire had ignited in your core from Javi pounding into you at a toe-curling pace, and the swirling of his digits. The sounds in the room were beyond obscene—the loud squelching where you were joined, the rough grunts, and soft moans. When it got to the point you both needed air, Javi broke the kiss, resting his forehead on yours. 

“I love your needy little pussy,” he panted. “Is this what you wanted?” 

It was hard enough to think with all he was doing to you, let alone speak. Somehow, you choked out “Yes!”

“I can tell.” His words were breathy as he maintained his rhythm, pushing in and out of your sloppy cunt. “You’re—fuck—you’re so fucking wet and warm. You feel so fucking good.” He kissed your lips, then your cheek, and tucked his face against the side of your head. 

He had you mewling. Your nails were digging into his ass hard enough to leave crescent moon imprints. Sweat was forming on your brow, your heart beating a mile a minute. 

“Fuck—” he groaned, “I love being inside you. I can’t get enough—I’ll never get enough.”

He put everything he had into each roll of his hips and press of his fingers. That was how it always was with your husband. His mission, which he chose to accept every time you fooled around, was making you come, and he was going to get you there no matter what it took.

With how his cock brushed over that one spot inside you with every thrust, and his digits circled your clit just right, you were a goner, your head empty of all thoughts. Instead, pleasure had consumed you, lighting up every nerve in your body like the Fourth of July. All of it had your second orgasm fast approaching, its tendrils winding tightly in your belly. 

Javi was speaking, and the effort it took to register anything he was saying was honestly embarrassing.

He sounded wrecked, his heavy breath hitting your jaw. “You’re gonna make me come. Your perfect pussy is gonna milk me dry. You want that? You want my come? You want me to fill you up?”

The thought of him coming inside you had your cunt clenching. Your husband moaned at how you squeezed him. 

“Please,” you practically begged. 

“You first. Let me feel you. Give it to me, and—Christ—give it to me, and you can have what you want.” 

That fire in your center had turned into an inferno, your insides burning brightly. 

“Come on,” he said. “Be a good girl, and take me with you.” 

It didn’t take more than a minute for you to tumble over the edge with a silent cry. Your inner walls clamped around him as euphoria took over every molecule in your body, your back arching and toes curling. Your clit throbbed underneath his skilled fingers, your thighs spasming at his sides. He said something, but you were too far gone to make out a single word, his hips continuing their onslaught. 

He was serious about you taking him with you. He sped up his strokes to chase his own high, grunting with the effort, before pushing into you one last time. His groan rumbled from his throat as he came. His thick cock jerked hard in your depths, feeling him pulse, pumping spurt after spurt of his hot spend inside you. He rolled his hips to fuck it as deep as possible, and when he stopped moving, you sighed happily. 

The room went still and quiet, save for heavy breathing. Your limbs felt noodly—loose, your legs shaking of their own accord. You anticipated your husband’s weight atop you as was usual post-coital, but were pleasantly surprised when he turned you both on your sides without slipping out of you—he did it to avoid hurting your sore breasts. One of his arms was under your neck, the other wrapped around you, holding you close while your hand went into his hair, your fingernails scratching at his scalp. He hummed appreciatively and kissed your forehead.

Together, you stayed like this for some time, basking in the endorphins flooding your systems. There wasn’t a single care that your bodies were sweaty and stuck together where they touched, or that you made a mess of you both, feeling thankful for the towel. This was the time when the world slipped away, and only the two of you remained. 

The peacefulness and how relaxed you were had you dozing off. 

A loud snore from Javi made you jolt awake, your pulse suddenly racing. It seemed sleep caught up to him, too.

“Javi?” you whispered. 

With how his body tensed, and he went quiet, you knew he’d woken. His eyes opened. “What’s wrong?” he gruffly asked.  

The question made you smile. You pushed his bangs off his forehead. “You fell asleep. Let’s take a quick shower and go back to bed.”

He said through a yawn, “Yeah, let’s do that.” His head turned to kiss the skin below your wrist, and he gave you a sleepy smile. “I’m fucking tired.” 

You frowned and stroked the back of your fingers over his cheek. “I’m sorry for waking you up.” 

“You know I want you to wake me up for shit like this.” 

“Getting your dick wet?” 

He gave you a look. “No. Helping you feel better. Getting my dick wet is a bonus.” 

“Definitely cheered me up.”

“Good.” He pecked you on the lips quickly and smacked your ass, making you giggle. “Let’s go, my beautiful wife,” he said. “I wanna get back in here and cuddle.” 

“That sounds nice.” It really did. “Let’s go, my handsome husband. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

Wednesday, January 27, 11:03 AM

“We’ve been going through the cam footage at the border crossing for months,” Javier said. Sitting at the desk in his office, he pushed the manila folder with printed stills towards Sheriff Arturo. The other man picked it up and opened it, flipping through the pages. “We’re checking both commercial and personal vehicles, and aside from a handful of smaller busts, like those college kids over Christmas break who got caught by border patrol with a misdemeanor’s worth of weed—” Less than two ounces. “—everything so far has been spotless. No flagged tags, no suspicious stops, nothing unusual, which makes me really fucking suspicious.”  

The Sheriff’s eyes met his, setting the folder down. “Why?” 

“Because to be this spotless—” He tapped his finger on the desktop. “—means we aren’t working with just any average crew—they would’ve slipped up by now. We know product is moving north—money, too—but the vehicles crossing the border are clean. That tells me they’re switching them out constantly, so nothing goes through more than once, and leaves us no pattern to trace.” 

“What are you thinking?” 

“That they’re staging locally. Getting the drugs over the border and maybe using a shell property, or a business that doesn’t see a lot of traffic. Somewhere they don’t have to go far, and can easily distribute without anyone noticing.”

Arturo sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “You think they’re local.” 

“Possibly. And they’re either using throwaway vehicles, most likely bought under fake names and stripped after one trip, or they’re piggybacking on legitimate imports, slipping in the product with the freight and paying the truckers to look the other way.”

“Border Patrol has the DEA breathing down their necks. If whoever these people are were able to piggyback on shipments, they would’ve been caught by now.” 

Javier smiled. “I thought about that after my amazing wife told me some really fucking good chisme (gossip) last weekend.” Given how his ex, Lorraine, ruined his life, he had zero pity that her husband was allegedly cheating on her. Javier grabbed another folder sitting by his empty coffee cup and passed it over to the older man, who flipped it open. “Schedules for the border patrol agents. They need at least two people at the checkpoint at all times. During the day, they always have five or six times that, with all the traffic of semi-trucks and tourists. Graveyard is substantially less busy. Look at the block of time from one a.m. to three a.m.” Javier pointed at it. “You have those two hours where the agents take turns going on their hour-long lunches, leaving only one guard.”

“And what? One of the agents is dirty? Or do you think the cartel has someone on the inside getting them this information?” He gestured at the papers.

“I’m not sure. What I do know is these fuckers aren’t lucky, they’re informed. I feel like someone’s feeding them, or fed them, intel, and maybe they do have the shift schedules, or were told about the maintenance windows and inspection gaps. I also think, given the possible leak and the possibility that it could be someone here or over at LPD (Laredo Police Department), we should keep this between as few people as possible. I haven’t even shared my suspicions with the narcotics team. One heads-up to the right driver, and we’re back at square one.” 

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. What’s your plan?” 

“Well, that’s the thing, and why I asked to talk to you. I need the traffic stop reports near the border for the last sixty days.” 

“That’s easy. Joy can get those to you by tomorrow.” Joy was technically the Sheriff’s assistant, but she was nice enough to help out Javier, too. He took a small pay cut at the beginning of the year in order for her to be compensated for the extra work. 

“It’s not that easy.” Javier’s hand ran through his hair as he sighed. “I also need the reports from the LPD, and you know as well as I do that if they find out I have anything to do with this, they won’t give us shit.” Because Lorraine’s uncle was the Chief of police and enjoyed making Javier’s life difficult. 

“That is a problem. I’ll take care of the request myself.”

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. Anything else?” 

“Not right now. Once I get the reports, I’ll cross-reference with out-of-state VINs, find commercial manifests, and see if I can connect any dots.” 

Sheriff Arturo nodded. “You’re doing good work, Javi. Before I go, ¿Cuál fue el chisme que te dijo tu esposa (What was the gossip your wife told you)?”

Javier sat up straighter. “¿Oiste lo que le pasó a él esposo de Lorraine (Did you hear what happened to Lorraine’s husband)—” He paused when there was a knock on the closed door behind the Sheriff, both men looking toward it.

“Come in!” he called.

Joy cracked it open and stuck her freckled face inside. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Javi, but your wife is on line one.” 

The announcement made him smile as he checked his watch to see if he was late for their lunchtime call at noon. The clock hands showed it was only 11:13. Maybe she couldn’t wait to talk to him. The thought of that made him go soft. 

“Well, I better get back to work,” the Sheriff said as he got up from his chair. “We were done, anyway.” He looked at Javier. “Cuéntame más tarde (Tell me later).” 

“I will.” He gathered the folders, closing them and stacking them off to the side on his desk. As soon as the door closed behind the older man, Javier picked up his office phone and hit the button for line one. “Hey, baby,” he answered. 

“Hey, babe.” He loved hearing her voice. 

“Couldn’t wait to talk to me at lunch?” 

“No, definitely couldn’t wait.” 

His smile grew, and he leaned back in his chair, absentmindedly wrapping the telephone cord around his finger.

“Yeah? How’s your day?” He heard her inhale deeply, releasing it from her nose in a rush. His hand paused, and his lips turned down. That was her bad day sigh. His tone went gentle, “What happened, Cielito? Are you okay? Do you want me to come down there?” 

“No, I’m okay,” she reassured. “But, I need to tell you something you are absolutely going to hate.” 

His stomach plummeted, and his heart rate rose. He sat forward, resting his elbows on the desktop. “What happened?” he asked again.  

“Well, you know my ex, Daniel? Doctor Douchebag?” 

He’d never met the man, but he had heard more than enough about him. 

The guy was a real piece of work. 

She met him at a hospital in Dallas, where he was a couple of years out of his cardiothoracic residency, and she was a nurse in the emergency room. When he discovered who her father was, he pursued her for the sole purpose of getting an in with her family. 

Her dad was apparently the Bill Gates of her ex’s surgical specialty, revolutionizing it, and in general, a big shot in the medical community. He was also loaded, a pretentious dick, and a shitty father. 

So, she dated this prick, who got what he wanted, meeting and wooing her parents. Then he humiliated her when she caught him cheating with another nurse. It came out that basically the entire hospital knew he was fucking this other woman behind her back. He didn’t take it well when she ended things. One of those, ‘you don’t break up with me, I break up with you’ types. He spitefully revealed that he was using her to further his career, and that he would’ve married her for the connections and money, while continuing to sleep with other people.

Fucked up, right? Javier wanted to bash the guy’s teeth in. What confused him, though, when she told him about this piece of shit, was that she admitted he was an arrogant asshole, selfish in bed, and he thought her love for Star Wars was childish, so, why did she date him? Her answer was similar to why Javier dated Lorraine: she liked the attention. It was also one of the only times when her parents were happy with her life choices, and things were good between them. In those days, she was still vying for their approval, but with how disappointed they were by the break-up, and their attempts to get her to forgive the fucker and take him back, she became disillusioned and more resentful of them. What made it even worse was that they were still obsessed with him and stayed in touch. 

Remembering how these people treated his wife had Javier’s blood boiling, his fist tightening around the handset hard enough that the plastic creaked. 

His voice lowered, “Yeah. What about him?” 

“He’s here.” 

His jaw clenched, his heart pounding in his throat. “I’m on my way.” 

“Javi, no—” She was cut off by him hanging up the phone. His chair rolled back as he stood, Javier shrugging his suit jacket off onto it. He left the room, yanking open his office door and storming down the hallway. He undid his cufflinks as he walked, pocketing them, then rolling up his sleeves. 

“Everything okay, Javi?” Joy asked as he approached her desk, her expression showing her concern. 

“No,” he answered as he went past her, loosening his tie. “I’ll either be back or in jail.”

“Does your wife know?”

“She’ll be the one bailing me out,” he said, continuing down the hall.

He made up his mind a while ago that if he ever had the chance to kick her ex’s ass, he was going to take it. He didn’t care that what happened between them was years ago, or that she’d forgiven the guy. That asshole deserved what was coming to him, and if that meant Javier had to spend some time behind bars, it was worth it. He just hoped Cielito didn’t get too mad at him. 

“Oh, shit,” you whispered into the storage room. Your eyes were wide, staring at the darkened screen on your cell phone now that the call was abruptly over. 

There was no point in trying to call Javier back. He was stubborn and coming down there whether you liked it or not. Was it a good idea to tell him Daniel was there? With how much your husband hated him, no, but this wasn’t something you could keep from him, or wait to tell him when you got home. It didn’t feel right hiding something like this from him, and you knew if you were in his shoes, you’d want to be told. 

How did this happen? Why was Daniel in Laredo when the last time you heard, he lived and worked in Boston? Those were both great questions that you didn’t have the answers to because the second you saw him, chatting with the orderly pushing a bed with a patient dozing in and out of consciousness on it, post-surgery, you booked it to hide in the storage room. 

You needed to come up with a plan to avoid your ex and keep your husband from beating him up. Lifting your wrist, you checked the time—11:20. If you had to guess, you’d already been there for about five minutes. If you hung out for another seven, that should be enough of a buffer for Daniel to talk to the patient’s family, answer any questions, and have Robyn, your co-worker and best friend, take over care. The hope was that he didn’t know you worked there, and this was all one big coincidence, but if he were aware, avoiding him should make him go away. If he asked Robyn where you were, due to the time, she’d tell him you probably went to lunch early. Either way, seven minutes from now, he should definitely be gone, and that will allow you to intercept Javi and redirect him out of the hospital, where you can get him back into his truck and distract him, probably by making out. 

It was a pretty solid plan. 

As you stood there, waiting, you thought it was sweet that your husband wanted to defend your honor. You had to admit it was really sexy, too. Yeah, you were more than capable of handling things yourself and had done it most of your life, but Javi going into protector mode? Dear god, did it rile you up. Even if you loved it, you didn’t think it was worth his getting arrested. 

Minutes passed. You looked at your watch again: 11:27. 

Game time. 

Walking over to the door, you slowly opened it enough to peek your head out, looking down both ways of the thankfully empty hallway. You left the storage room and briskly walked to the nurse’s station at the end of the hall. Before you had to do your Houdini disappearing act, you’d just finished your rounds, so you knew your two patients were cared for. At the desk, you ensured neither of them had hit the call button. Everything looked good. Where was Robyn? You needed her help with the whole Daniel situation. Instead of waiting for her to show up, you left the nurse’s station, heading back down the hallway to find her. 

It seemed luck was not in your favor today. 

“There you are.” The voice behind you had you stopping in your tracks, and a ball of dread settling in your stomach. Well, fuck. There goes your game plan. “I’ve been looking for you.” 

Taking a deep breath, you let it out with a sigh as you turned around. “Hello, Daniel.” 

He was standing there with his icy-blue eyes and his stupid pastel yellow surgical cap covered in trout he’d had since medical school—he said it was good luck. He didn’t look much different from the last time you saw him three years ago, before he moved to Massachusetts. Slightly shorter than Javi, clean-shaven, with a light tan, which was weird since he practically lived indoors, tailored black scrubs, and a watch that probably cost more than your car. Was he attractive? Sure. Hotter than your husband? Not even close. You still considered Daniel out of your league, and it had surprised you when he asked you out all that time ago. You should’ve known he had ulterior motives, but back then, you loved that the cute, young, hotshot surgeon at the hospital, who your parents loved, was interested in you. 

He frowned. “Don’t be like that, Kitten.” The nickname made you shudder. “It’s still Dan.” He couldn’t even smile without looking smug. “I heard you worked here, and thought we could grab lunch and catch up. For old times’ sake.” 

For old times’ sake? He was making it sound like your relationship was all sunshine and daisies, something it absolutely was not. After your breakup, the two of you pretended the other didn’t exist at work, and only spoke when your parents were in town because they always invited him to dinner even after you told them not to. Thankfully, three years ago, with a recommendation your father wrote on his behalf, Daniel ended up getting his dream job in Boston, so you haven’t seen or spoken to him since then. 

When your arms crossed over your chest, you caught him glancing down for a split second to check out your chest. Gross. “No, thanks. I have plans. If that was all, I have to get back to work.” 

“Wait, what about a drink when you get off? This sad little town must have a bar.” 

You glared. “It does, and once again, no thank you.” 

“Then talk to me for a second.” His tone softened, yet it came off as patronizing. “I heard you weren’t doing well, and when our old hospital called me to take the case for this patient here that they were going to fly to Dallas, it felt like kismet, and that I should come down here to check on you. I was worried about you.” 

What in the actual fuck was he talking about? Also, him worrying about you was laughable since he was pathologically self-centered. This guy never truly apologized for what he did to you, and thought he could charm away the damage. You squinted, your eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean you heard I wasn’t doing well?” 

He gave you a look like you should know what he was talking about. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Kitten.” Wow, hearing him call you that was like nails on a chalkboard. “I had dinner with your parents last week, and they told me all about how you made a mistake moving down here, and that you’re struggling, but don’t be too hard on yourself. We all have choices we regret, like how I treated you. If I could go back, I’d do it all differently and wouldn’t take you for granted. Maybe this is our second chance.” 

There was a lot to take in, from what your mother and father said to him to his attempt at rekindling your romance. Each part made you angrier and angrier. The fucking audacity of your parents’ lies, and Doctor Douchebag thinking you’d even consider taking him back. Your eyes squeezed closed, focusing on your breathing to stay calm so you didn’t make a scene. 

“First of all,” you finally said, your attention returning to him, “I’m very happily married.” You lifted your left hand to show him your rings. His eyes rounded, his general smugness fading as reality sank in. “My life is not falling apart. My life has never been better. I have a man who actually loves me, and not the perks I come with. I also love living in this ‘sad little town’ with my husband and our family. My parents? I am no longer in contact with them, and good riddance; they never liked anything they couldn’t control, especially my choices. All that shit they said about me was what they needed to say to make the world make sense to them again. The ideas you had about us getting back together are, honestly, fucking delusional. You seriously thought my life was in shambles and that’d, what? Make me forget about you cheating on me? Or the part where you told me, to my face, that all I was worth to you was my family’s money and connections? You thought you could show up here and play the hero? Go fuck yourself, Daniel.” 

With it being around lunchtime, you weren’t concerned about anyone overhearing. 

He regained his composure, standing a little straighter. “Dan,” he said. 

“Get fucked, Doctor Douchebag.” 

This was a man who wasn’t often talked back to or heard the word ‘no’ enough, which became evident from the look he gave, where his eyes screamed ‘danger,’ and he had a creepy little smile that made the hair rise on the back of your neck. 

See, Daniel grew up privileged. He attended the best schools and was always the best in the room. He was so good at his profession that people let him get away with everything. His arrogance was backed by brilliance, and he weaponized his charm. This all meant he believed consequences were for other people, and he could do no wrong. 

“You know, your parents and I, we aren’t the villains here,” he said. “We just see things clearly.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Sure, you’re ‘happily married’—” He did air quotes with his fingers. “—but we all know you were meant for more than this. More than a town with only one bar and patients who think Tylenol is a miracle drug.” He took a step forward, and you went back one. “You could have everything. Your dad told me about his job offer for you to be the director of nursing back home. Your talent is wasted here. You're giving up money, connections, and status for what? So you can play house with some guy your parents wouldn’t even pay to park their car? You can’t seriously think some hick town nobody is better than me. Your parents want what’s best for you. I want what’s best for you. Let’s go talk about this more over coffee.” He was quick to grab your bicep in an attempt to lead you away, his grip hard enough to make you flinch. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You jerked your arm, but his fingers only dug in harder. He was acting as if he still had some kind of claim to you, making you feel sick to your stomach. The hallway was quiet, save for the soft hum of the sterile lights above. 

“Stop being dramatic. I just want to talk.” 

“I said, let go!” You pushed at his chest. 

Before he had a chance to respond, a voice cut through the tension. Sharp and unmistakably furious. “Get your hands off my wife!” 

Daniel looked up just in time to catch the full weight of a punch square to the jaw. The crack of the impact echoed in the corridor, the thud silencing everything for a moment. The man staggered, caught off guard, stumbling back. You gasped, covering your mouth. Before the surgeon had a chance to recover, Javi was on him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, yanking him close until their faces were inches apart.

“Don’t you ever touch my wife again,” your husband said, low and dangerous. “You think you have the right to grab her and take her where you want, like she’s yours? She’s not. She never was. So, here’s your only warning. You lay a hand on her again, I’ll break it. If I see you even look at her the wrong way, you’ll be eating through a fucking straw. You ever show your face near her again, I will put it through a wall. I’m not fucking around.” 

Stepping to the side, you looked past your husband to see the other man glaring with blood dripping from his lip.  “Who are you?” 

“Her husband, and the hick town nobody you really don’t want to fuck with.” 

Oh. Was it wrong that Javier threatening your terrible ex with bodily harm was turning you on? He had a good twenty pounds on your ex and would easily wipe the floor with him. This was a new level of anger you’d never seen before. You didn’t want him to be so mad, but dear lord, were you dangerously close to swooning. His immediate response to seeing someone causing you distress was to come in swinging, and wasn’t that very sexy of him? What you knew for sure was that you’d never wanted to have his babies more.

Javi shoved him back, releasing his grip on the shirt. Daniel continued staring down your husband as he used the back of his hand to wipe away the blood on his chin and smoothed the invisible wrinkles from his scrubs. 

“Real classy entrance, amigo,” the surgeon replied. “Are you always this protective, or are you just insecure?” 

Javi took an immediate step forward, and it was satisfying to see your ex flinch. 

“You wanna rethink that question, pal?” your husband asked. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket; his white dress shirt hugged his back, revealing how tense he was beneath it. You knew it was taking a lot for him not to kick the smaller man’s ass.

Your ex smiled. “What I mean is that she and I have history. That won’t go away with a ring and a temper. You can threaten me all you want, but one day she’ll realize what she gave up, and that she deserves better than this backwoods fairy tale. I think deep down, you both know that, too.” 

Javier’s voice turned menacing. “She already knows what she gave up, and that’s why she happily wears my last name. It’s also the reason you’re here, grasping at straws, and pathetically bleeding.” He leaned in slightly. “Next time you wanna feel like a big, important man, maybe pick someone who doesn’t have a husband willing to break your jaw for it. You wanna listen to yourself talk more, or are we done?” 

This was when Daniel’s eyes landed on yours. “This is it?” 

You moved to stand beside your husband, his arm automatically going behind your back to hold your hip. The question made your eyebrows pull together. “Dude, this has been it for five fucking years. You’re the one who's too full of himself to accept that someone doesn’t want anything to do with you. So, for the love of god, leave me the fuck alone, and when you talk to my parents, ‘cause I know you’re gonna call my dad after this—you’ve always needed his approval more than you‘ve ever given a fuck about me—please let them know I’m a Peña now. See?” You pointed to your hospital badge clipped to the front pocket of your scrub shirt. “P-e-ñ-a,” you sounded it out for him. “I think it goes pretty great with my first name. Right, babe?” You looked toward Javi, who was already watching you with a smile. 

“It’s perfect with your first name, mi amor.” 

“Yes, it is.” Your eyes went back to your ex. The expression on his face was one of disbelief. This was a hard pill for him to swallow. “I’m not sorry that this puts an end to your dreams of becoming my father’s second son. Maybe if you suck up enough he won’t be too disappointed in your failure to get me back—I just wouldn’t count on an invite to Thanksgiving if I were you.”

“I don’t understand,” Daniel started, “how you can give up everything for something as trivial as love.” 

“Because I’d rather build a life that’s real than decorate one that’s empty, and it’s sad that you don’t understand that. Love isn’t trivial, it’s everything your life is missing.”

He huffed. “I’m not missing anything. I’ve got everything I need—a career, status, respect. Love fades, but comfort lasts. You’ll find that out the hard way, and when you do, your parents will welcome you back with open arms.” 

“You are a sad, strange little man. You have my pity.” Before he could reply, you barreled on, wanting this discussion to end. “Well—“ You clapped your hands together once. “—I hated this interaction aside from when my wonderful husband punched you in your stupid face and threatened you. I can assure you he is going to get majorly laid tonight. Everything is going to be on the table—he could even fuck me on the table if he wanted to, I am so down. So, yeah, fuck off, Daniel.”

“What my wife said,” Javi added. “Fuck off, Daniel.” 

The surgeon tore off his surgical cap, revealing his tousled, dirty blonde hair as he walked away. When he was out of view, you turned to your husband, who faced you. Snatching his punching hand, you carefully lifted it, inspecting it for any injuries. 

“Is there any pain?” you asked. His knuckles were red, with no abrasions or cuts, but there was some swelling. There weren’t any visible signs of a break, which was reassuring. 

“No, Cielito.” Glancing up, you watched his smiling face as you moved each of his fingers, checking to see if he winced or showed any discomfort. “I’m fine. I promise.” 

So far, he looked to be telling the truth. “Let me get you some ice to help with the swelling.” 

He didn’t let you leave, his hands instead moving to caress your cheeks, keeping your eyes on his. “Mi amor, baby, I’m good.” 

“Okay. They might be feeling fine right now, but there’s a chance you might experience some stiffness later.” 

He smirked. “Oh, I know I’m gonna experience some stiffness later.” 

“I’m in nurse mode, babe, is that a dick joke, or do I need to keep an eye on your hand?” 

“It was a dick joke.” He leaned in, kissing your forehead. His arms wrapped around you, and you hugged him back, the side of his head resting against yours. “My hand is okay.” 

“Good.” 

“Are you okay?” 

Your nose nestled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his spicy cologne with its citrusy notes and lovely musk, which mixed with his natural scent, had you relaxing into him. “I am now,” you answered truthfully.

“Good.” He kissed your hair and squeezed you a little tighter.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in the middle of the hallway, holding each other. The Daniel altercation shook you up, and you were thankful Javi arrived when he did. Thinking back on your relationship with your ex, there were a few instances where he felt entitled to grab you like he did today. It usually happened at parties, and you didn’t think much of it at the time. Now, it felt violating and gross, especially since he was virtually a stranger. It was fucked up that after all these years he still thought he had the right to steer you like property. And with who you were nowadays, you couldn’t believe you ever let him treat you like that. It was jarring when he put his hands on you earlier, but you wouldn’t have gone with him without a fight, and a lot of noise. 

Javi leaned back to look at you, and there was something so comforting about gazing into his brown eyes, the dark amber flecked with warmth that radiated his love for you. His large palms rubbed your upper arms.

“You’re okay?” he asked, double-checking.

You smiled. “I’m wonderful.” 

His lips crooked up. “Perfect. Did I hear you say everything was on the table tonight?” 

You giggled, your hands smoothed up his chest to wrap your arms around his neck. “Yes, you did, and I meant everything. You came in here, my knight in a business suit, saving me from that asshole. You can have whatever your heart desires.”

“Yeah?” 

“Oh, yeah. I’m not saying I ever want to see you get that mad again, but it was extremely sexy how you defended and protected me. Really riled up the cavewoman part of my brain that sees you as the perfect mate to procreate with.” 

You could see his amusement. “The cavewoman part of your brain?” 

“Yep. You know, like that deep, primitive instinct you have that makes you wanna put a baby in me.” 

He didn’t get to reply. “And that’s why I’m on birth control and I make my male partners wear condoms,” Robyn said. Javi and you turned your heads toward her, standing there. Her chestnut curls were up in a bun today, and, as usual, her makeup was flawless, with her cherry-red lips and perfect cat eye. “That instinct is dangerous as hell. I’m happy Seb—” Her boyfriend and your husband’s cousin. “—is on the same page as me about no babies, and is very pro-condoms.” She smiled. “Somethin’ I know neither of you is, you nasty freaks. Y’all just goin’ at it raw from the very beginnin’. Crazy kids.” Her attention went to Javi. “Did she tell you I switched to her old birth control?”

“Uh, no, she didn’t…” 

“Well, knowin’ how often she gets creampied, and that it still prevented her from gettin’ pregnant, really sold it for me.” 

“You’re welcome, I guess?” 

“I’m pretty happy about it. So, what’s up with you guys?” She checked her watch before looking at you. “Are y’all goin’ to lunch? It’s about that time.” 

Did she not know what happened with Daniel?

Letting go of Javi, you faced her, while he took his spot beside you, his arm resting across your shoulders. Without thinking, you reached up to lace your fingers with his. 

“Uh, you didn’t hear what was going on out here?” you asked. 

Her eyebrows furrowed. “No, I didn’t. Did I miss somethin’ excitin’? My last thirty minutes were spent keepin’ that new patient alive, the one who had a fuckin’ left atrial myxoma excised—” 

“That’s a tumor inside the beating heart that is extremely difficult to remove,” you said for Javi’s benefit. 

“It’s so difficult that there’s maybe a dozen surgeons around the world who can do it, and I stupidly called dibs on the patient ‘cause cases like those usually get life-flighted to San Antonio, or Dallas—we sure as hell don’t have anyone talented enough here. They flew in some fancy guy from Boston for this one. I wanted to chat with him, but he seemed to be in a hurry. Then the patient tried to code on me.” She frowned. 

“A rough one?” 

“Yeah. He forgot how to breathe. Fought the mask, panicked hard, and his oxygen bottomed out. Took me a bit to get him stable, but he’s good now.” She smiled again. “So, what’d I miss?” 

“That fancy surgeon from Boston? My ex.” 

Robyn gasped. “Doctor Douchebag?”

“The one and only.” 

Her eyes were wide. “Oh my god, and Javi’s here. Don’t tell me I missed your husband beatin’ his ass!” 

“Let me tell you what happened…” 

You recounted what she missed, starting with your attempt to hide from Daniel in the storage room. When you got to the part where Javi hit him, she high-fived your husband, and told you both if she’d been there she would’ve throat-punched the fucker. When you finished, she shook her head and said, “Girl, your life is insane. I do not envy you. But you know what?”

“What?” you asked. 

She pointed at Javier. “His life is probably more insane than yours, and I think that’s why he handles all the crazy so well. I hate sayin’ it, but a weaker man wouldn’t have lasted this long. Y’all really are perfect for each other.” 

“Yeah, we are,” your husband said, leaning in to kiss your temple. 

“We sure the fuck are,” you agreed. 

“You guys gonna head to lunch?” Robyn asked. 

Given all that happened, you assumed it took up your designated lunch hour. If Robyn was cool with you going, though, well, you’d definitely love to get your husband alone somewhere. 

Your head turned to find Javi already looking at you. “Lunch?” 

He smiled. “I’ve got time.” 

Your eyes went back to your friend. “We’re gonna go, but let me check on my patients really quick before I leave.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” She waved away your concern. “You covered my longer than normal lunch yesterday. I’ve got you.”  

Her boyfriend had surprised her at lunch with flowers and a new haircut. They lost track of time fucking in the back of his Ford Bronco. 

Girls support girls getting laid. 

“You are the fucking best.” 

“I know. Go.” She shooed you away.

That was all your husband needed to hear. His arm came off you to grab your hand at his side, and pulled you along behind him as he walked around Robyn. 

“Thank you!” you said over your shoulder. 

“You’re welcome!” 

You focused on Javi’s back. “What do you want to eat?” you asked. 

He didn’t stop as he looked back, his eyes darker. He said low enough for only you to hear, “We both know we’re not eating.” 

He made you smirk. “No, we are not. At least not food, anyway.” 

He smiled. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.”

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[calcifiedunderland]

Can I request Silver with the Lighthouse, Lifeboat, and Storm prompts? Reader is a weird little goth lighthouse worker and Silver just survived a massive ship wreck and needs to find a way to contact Malleus, Sebek and Lilia so he gets help from reader and they like. Idk get him towels and some tea and a phone or something.

It's not QUITE a romance cause they just met but there is a good foundation for a solid friendship there. They have a sass off once Silver gets comfortable enough to not be so polite. They just watch out for ships and try to keep each other awake through the night

💌Request received! Thank you for your message, your delivery is ready~

Silver, ft. Lighthouse, Lifeboat, & Storm

The lighthouse work suited you.

Not many were surprised when you decided to work at the lonely lighthouse on the rocky beach. You were strange, people whispered. You preferred dark clothes to the townpeople’s bright pastels, and didn’t seem to mind the doom-and-gloom of the abandoned lighthouse.

It wasn’t the lighthouse’s fault that it was on a rocky, scary-looking beach and had fallen into disrepair. A job was a job, and if this job allowed you to sit for hours overlooking the rolling sea while you could read, play music, and enjoy the salty breeze in solitude? Sign you up. You didn’t care if you were the town’s resident goth weirdo. All the cashier jobs at Hot Topic were taken.

It was a sleepy little job, and today was no exception. The sea was violent today too, you thought. Waves crashed on the rocks, and the sky was gray. As usual. This side of the island rarely had sunny weather.

Although ships never entered from this side of the island either.

You stood, going to the telescope on the balcony. You peered through it, gasping. There was a man clutching a piece of driftwood, drifting in and out of consciousness on the rough waves. Pieces of wood and cloth flashed through the water as a ship disintegrated in the sea before your eyes.

You thought fast. You typically worked alone in the lighthouse, and no one would come in time to help you. You were on your own. You dashed out of the lighthouse, shucking off your boots.

The man had washed up on the rocks, not moving. You grabbed a rowboat, and hurriedly rowed as close as you dared to the rocks. You staggered out of the boat, trying not to slip as you walked to him. You knelt over the man, moving his hair from his face and tapping his cheek. “Hey! Are you okay?!” He was asleep, so you pressed your hand to his heart. You felt a heartbeat. He’s alive.

You hauled him over your back, going back into the boat and the lighthouse as fast as you could without falling. At last, you laid him on the couch and slammed the door shut. You flicked on the furnace, and set to work peeling some of wet clothes from his person.

You moved him closer to the fireplace, gently stroking his (now dry) hair. He looks kind, you thought, but noble. You’d noticed he had a sword lashed to his belt too. It seemed to be of fae make, but he was human.

Well, you figured he’d want something to eat. You padded to the kitchen, taking off your jewelry. Soon, a delicious aroma wafted through the lighthouse floor.

Silver’s nose twitched at the scent. He was still groggy, but that smell was delicious. That can’t be Father’s cooking, can it? Suddenly he shot awake. This can’t be his cooking. At the sudden movement, you shrieked, nearly dropping the soup.

Silver was on his feet in fighting position, hand on his scabbard. His violet eyes were intense, although they did soften when they saw you. Sure, you looked so scary with your knitted black cardigan with white bats, holding a bowl of soup with pink flower oven mits.

“…please forgive me.” Silver sat quietly with the soup in his lap, spooning it quickly into his mouth while you glared at him. You looked like a disgruntled crow, he observed. The two of you introduced yourselves, making small talk. You slowly warmed up to him. Your alternative outfit made Silver smile. You looked just like Father in his off-hours.

The thought of Lilia made the amusement disappear. Suddenly, memories crashed back. The shipwreck. He had to contact Father, Sebek, and Lord Malleus!

“Hey, easy there,” you said worriedly. Silver shook his head, trying to shake off sleepiness, “Do you have a phone I can borrow? I must contact my father.” You nodded, looking at your phone. “Of course, one sec-“ you frowned when you saw you had no service.

“I’m sorry, but it looks like the storm jammed the signal. We’ll have to wait it out.” Silver’s heart dropped, and he sighed heavily. You bit your lip.

“It’ll be a little while. I can make some tea while we wait out the storm,” you said softly. “Want some chamomile? It will help you relax.” Silver shook his head quickly, feeling his eyes droop. “I’d prefer something caffeinated, if you have it.”

Soon, Silver sat next to you with a large mug of instant black coffee clenched in one hand, while you stirred your chamomile with two sugars and honey.

You poked his shoulder, “so.” Silver looked away from the pouring rain, brow furrowed, “…so?” You smiled, trying to ease him, “so where will you go when the rain lets up?”

Silver shut his eyes, before answering “I must get back to Briar Valley. My father and friends are waiting for me.” You watched him. Determination lit up his eyes. “They’re probably worried about you, but I also think they know how strong you are,” you said quietly.

Silver nodded, sipping his coffee. After a while, he whispered, “thank you.” A guy of few words, you thought.

”Besides,” you said, teasing him to cheer him up, “I’m sure whatever’s in your way, you’d just duel them and win.” You gestured to his sword, smiling when you saw his mouth quirk upward. “Nothing will get in my way. I must remain vigilant,” he said before downing the entire mug of coffee.

You gaped at him, “you want to stay up all night? Dude, that much caffeine can’t be good for you.” Silver still felt the pull of sleep, “n-no. I need more.” You nodded, scampering off to the kitchen to make another pot. “Alright Silver, it’s your all-nighter.”

You came back with the instant coffee. Silver glanced at it, asking sheepishly “could you make it a little stronger, please?” You blinked, “I… I did make it stronger.” Silver shook his head, fighting off sleepiness, “n-no… I need more…” you bit your lip before adding more scoops. Silver drank it quickly.

You glanced at the mug before deciding to make your own cup. You stayed up with him all night.

Slowly, the dawn came and the storm dissipated. Despite being marooned on who-knows-where, Silver wasn’t too concerned. Tomorrow would be a new day on the lighthouse. Only this time, the two of you would be in each other’s company.

I confess that I still do not understand how lighthouses do their lighthouse things. If any lighthouse workers are reading this, please forgive me orz

Anyway, thank you for your requesttt~~~ until next time, xoxo Calci~

[starkeyvhs]

cw: rafe x bestfriend!reader, minor swearing, mentions of alcohol, word count is above 500 but I wanted it to be a concept / wc: 618 / masterlist

Thinking of how Rafe’s best friend begs him to help her forget about her lying, cheating ex.

Rafe spots you through the glass door of his room, your back towards him as you stand behind the railing of his balcony, looking out at the skyline. He didn’t notice you escaping the party below, but he was quick to realise your absence. Just as Rafe steps out of the door, he hears something. 

You’re standing there with one hand holding your phone and the other your drink. From your phone, he hears his voice. 

“Hey, gorgeous. Today was hectic as fuck, but I’m finally free. I can’t wait to finally see your pretty face tomorrow. I love you, baby.”

“Hey sweet girl. Hope finals’ season isn’t too hard on you. It sucks we’re so far apart right now, but I hope you’re not neglecting your health to study. Take good care of yourselves, okay? I’ll call you asap. I love you.”

“Hi baby. I miss you–”

Rafe decides he’s had enough of listening to that bastard’s voice. He walks out onto the balcony, making his presence known which causes you to jolt in your position and to pause the voice note you were just listening to. Your hand flies to your face to wipe off a tear. 

“Hey…” he says, his voice soft as he steps out fully and comes close to you, “why were you listening to that, hm?” He gently takes the phone from you, not letting you have any chance to take it back or argue. 

“I, I don’t know…” you mutter softly as you look out at the view. Your hand clenches tightly around your cup. “I know I should be over him cause he literally cheated on me but… I gave almost 2 years of my life to this relationship…” your throat begins to close up by the end of the sentence, the strain evident in your words. 

“Hey hey…” Rafe murmurs, a hand coming onto your shoulder and pulling you into him almost immediately. He can’t see you crying, no he’ll never see you cry. Ever. 

Soft sobs erupt out of you as tears begin to streak down your cheeks. Rafe pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you as you press your face into his shoulder, your fingers curling into his US Polo. 

“I know I shouldn’t even think of him anymore but…” your words get caught in your throat and Rafe can see how it’s taking a toll on you. 

“Shh,” he hushes softly, a hand gently running over the back of your head. “It’s okay, yeah? You’re okay,” 

You take your time sobbing into his shoulder, but your cries die down after a few moments and you slowly pull back, looking into his eyes. Rafe gently cups your cheeks and wipes the tears still welling in your eyes. 

“I want to forget him…” you whisper, your voice hoarse, “help me forget him Rafe, please…” 

Your soft pleas cause Rafe’s chest to tighten. “You want me to help you forget him?” Rafe whispers, his fingers gently curling on the back of your neck.

You nod, the motion almost frantic, and Rafe feels your fingers tightening more into the material of his t-shirt. The distance between you two is a bare minimum, and Rafe can bet you can practically taste his peppermint lip balm on his lips and the alcohol on his tongue.

“Yeah, I’ll do that for you…” he whispers, his gaze flickering down to your lips, and then he leans closer to you, letting your lips connect. 

Finally, you are where you have always deserved to be. In his arms. Where you rightfully belong.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being on the Team and dating Wally

Wally West x reader

warnings:

a/n: this reminded me of the fic of wally dating a civilian and i totally forgot to follow up on that!! since it was just one scenario i thought i'd add it to the whole hc set!! and im so good fox i hope u are too!!! (i miss yj) also i assigned reader a random JL mentor whoop whoop (tried to incorporate training into this as best as i could but if you want more the training scenario would be great for a gif imagine!!)

prompt: anonymous: "Hiii dear! How are you? I saw your requests are open so I'd like to ask about Wally West x gn!reader training together headcanons (they are both in the team). Take care and thank you! - 🦊 anon"

wally and you had been familiar with each ofther for a good couple of years, but most interactions had been very formal before “the day”

you were black canary’s protege, partner, whatever you’d call it—just not sidekick

dinah and you carried yourselves with a lot of care to balance out ollie and roy’s more uh…chaotic sides, but you were still fun when you wanted to be

and that pressure really released when you joined the team

“you seem…happier. like this is what you’d been needing all along” -dinah

“i am! i think that being around people my age who are like me is what’s been missing” -you

“people like…wally?” -dinah, immediately clocking your feelings

“ugh! why do you have to be so good at that?” -you

“im a licensed therapist, it’s just apart of the job. don’t worry, it stays between us” -dinah

“when did this become a therapy session?” -you

“impromptu. just wanted to check in” -dinah

“…i appreciate it” -you

you and wally were getting on great, actually

despite his ill manners and his tendency to run circles around you without realizing it, you’d found him quite intriguing

and in training, you wiped the floor with him

“no fair! your mentor is our trainer!” -wally “she probably showed you a bunch of secret moves to take us all down”

“oh, please. you were just distracted…i think its time to go again” -you, winking

wally scrambled to his feet to spar once more

“this is pathetic, wally’s gonna wear himself out if he doesn’t just ask y/n out soon” -dick

“i don’t know, he seems…up to it?” -conner

“i think he just likes getting pushed around” -dick

“oh, that’s not—nevermind” -artemis

missions were a different story. i mean, at first you were all business, but kaldur, dick, wally, m’gann, artemis, and conner (yes the whole darn crew) just brought something out in you

your powers were seismic, they paired well with dinah and her sonic screams—but a new team meant a delicate hand

like, the first time you caused a small seismic event you knocked wally straight down on his face

“do i still look handsome?” -wally, with grass on his teeth

“i am soooo sorry” -you

“it’s okay. you still look showstopping even when i have dirt in my eyes” -wally

“i can’t bare to watch this anymore” -artemis

“well if you talk to y/n, i’ll talk to wally” -dick

“deal” -artemis

don’t get me wrong, dinah was grilling you about not doing anything concrete about wally, but being a kid hero was very complicated

“it’s just been busy, you know? i’ve been finding my footing here and focusing on the work rather than…” -you

“rather than your personal life? y/n, i know just as well how much this job takes and the balance it requires, but you’re allowed to have a personal life. and you’re still a kid, it’s important that you can still act like it. when i met ollie, it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park—we worried about each other and we got busy but we made it work. you can, too” -dinah

“i know. i know. i’m just handling the fallout with roy now, too. i’ve gotten ahold of him a few times and he’s just so stubborn. the team even found him and tried to get him on board but he’s not budging” -you

“roy isn’t your responsibility, y/n. if he comes around, great. if he doesn’t, you tried. right now i need you to focus on what’s best for you” -dinah

and she was right

and after another training day, she paired you and wally up again

maybe dinah was a sucker for good love stories who knows

but what better way to flirt with the guy you like than to knock him on his back over and over

“have you talked to y/n yet?” -dick

“sort of, but apparently dinah got to them first” -artemis, chuckling as wally got knocked down yet again

“what are they trying to do, beat him into submission?” -robin, cackling

“that’s…one way to get a guy?” -m’gann

once the sparring session was over, wally was quick to run after you to praise your moves

“babe, i don’t think these bruises are ever gonna go away” -wally “something to remember you by, of course”

“i do my best” -you

“if we were allowed to use our powers in training maybe i’d stand a chance” -wally

“against earthquakes? i don’t think so!” -you, shoving him playfully

“hey hey! training’s over, no more hitting me!” -wally

next time you tried to make contact he sped around you and dipped you so low you thought your head was about to touch the floor (it wasn’t you just felt like you could float awayyy)

your fingers were entwined with his and his arm supported your back as you leaned back, you looked up at his green eyes and let out a small breath

“gotcha” -wally

“and now what?” -you

“well, i was thinking about kissing you, but i feel like a date would be the better first move” -wally

and he delivered on that (finally), barry gave him some tips on how to be a nice date

and so did iris

which ended in some side eyes since they didn’t agree on everything said

“i think im gonna stick with iris on this one. us speedsters dont always have the best judgment” -wally “plus, she’s a west—and west is the best”

*eye rolls*

you and wally’s date went as well as a date with two metahumans could go

slippage of powers (wally bouncing his leg at record speed, you accidentally causing a low seismic event, him eating too fast, the whole table shaking until your water spilled)

you wondered if anything similar ever happened to dinah or barry

but by the end of the night you’d both cooled off a bit and as wally took you home (carried you at super speed) you managed to share a very quick and awkward first kiss

his cheeks were VERY red. a few shade off from his hair

“am i vibrating or are you?” -wally, realizing your powers were just a tad similar

“i have no idea. both?” -you

“makes sense” -wally

after that date you guys pretty much agreed you were dating

and your mentors were sooo ecstatic

dinah because she wanted you to at least try to be normal, barry because wally was being really obnoxious and he thought you’d straighten him out

little did barry know you liked wally for how obnoxious he was

missions became far more bearable with him at your side

and maybe, definitely, kaldur had to keep wally on task when you were on missions but what can he say! you were his one and only <3

“i can’t believe it took him that long, he’s like, the most impatient guy on the planet” -artemis

“i think he just liked the rush” -you

“you gonna start taking it easy on him during training now?” -artemis

“absolutely not, gotta show him who’s in charge” -you

wally would pout if dinah paired you up with someone else during training

once she paired you with conner and wally had a whole fit about it and requested to fight conner next (he kept winking at you while he was sparring and kept ending up on the floor)

(you were a bit embarrassed)

dinah and you would go to coffee shops with ollie in tow to gossip about the flash family

and wally would get some goid gossip about the arrow fam as well lol

when roy found out you and wally were dating he went big brother on you

“that kid is obnoxious and only after one thing. i don’t think he’s the right one for you. you should just end it now to spare any more pain or heartbreak” -roy

“at least wally’s only concern isn’t to join the justice league, roy. i’ve seen you like twice in the past six months, i don’t think you have much of a say in my love life right now” -you

“ugh! next time i see that kid, i’m shooting him” -roy

“what?! that’s like, really harsh, roy. can you tone it down to a stern talking to or something, jesus” -you

“…bust his kneecaps?” -roy

“can’t tell if that’s better or worse. actually, yeah i can. it’s worse. his whole hero career is running. what has gotten into you?” -you

wally was a little scared of roy after you told him all of this

he was actually very scared of roy after this he just pretended he wasn’t

“dude, he’s probably just joking. im fine, really! roy’s a friend, he’d never hurt me” -wally, sweating intensely

wally hid behind you next time he saw roy

wally and you spent a lot of hours trying to test combos with your powers combined

it tested your limits, helped you discover new things you could do with your powers

like blow up rocks from long distances

and shift the ground to give wally a better path upwards

he was sooo psyched and super proud of you

“babe, that was insane. what else can you do?” -wally

“didn’t even know i could do that” -you

your BIGGEST hype man right here he loveeeess seeing you kick ass

ESPECIALLY when its a big baddie

ollie funded your junior prom excursion

“you deserve the most perfect [suit/dress] you can find, you deserve a limo ride, you deserve the best flowers money can buy—” -ollie

“ollie, this is a prom at a public school. i think all of that’s gonna make me stand out” -you

“that’s the point!” -ollie

he wouldn’t budge

“roy’s not gonna be here, right?” -wally, pulling om his shirt collar

“let it go, wally” -you

wally and you honestly had a great night—he slowed down for once and you didn’t cause any terrestrial tremors

so perfect night!

you danced, you took awesome pictures, you couldn’t wait to brag to the team about your normal kid night

until you got called in for a mission </3

“wouldn’t be a date night without a supervillain killing the mood” -wally

“my mood’s not killed yet” -you, kissing wally on the cheek

wally was ready to fight in your honor (despite you also being there)

and youuuu were fuming

especially after having to control your powers all night, you were ready to let loose

you opened up a crater so big this guy couldn’t escape if you gave him a week’s headstart

“babe, you rock my world. get it?” -wally, going in for a kiss

you almost pushed him away the pun was so bad!!!

double dates with m’gann and conner could get interesting

“so is canary telling you everything i tell her in our sessions?” -conner

“conner, stop being so paranoid!” -m’gann

“nope! believe it or not, dinah’s actually a professional who doesn’t run to her protege to gossip about her clients. especially when that protege is friends with the client” -you

“heyyy, let’s all cool down here. we’re having a good time as friends, not talking about work right now” -wally, always good at de-escalating any situation you were involved in when it was starting to turn on the heat

you appreciated it as you could get a little ill tempered with all the pressure on you to perform satisfactory to canary and batman

you couldn’t tell who was harder to please in this situation, but it seemed like dinah was proud of you for reasons beside kicking ass on this not-so-covert team

“you guys aren’t blowing missions on purpose to try to gain screentime and force yourself out of the ‘covert’ rule, are you?” -dinah

“hate to break this to you dinah, but we are that bad at the quick and quiet route. someone always messes it up for everyone” -you

“you caused an earthquake in a small city far from any tectonic plates on your last mission” -dinah

“didn’t say i was perfect, did i?” -you

wally was never mad when you made the wrong move unless it puts you in immediate danger

like once you purposely split the ground in an attempt to flee a most likely fatal blow and he thought you would fall into like. lava or something he was freaking out

“wally i only dropped like twenty feet, im fine” -you

“twenty feet?! you could have broken a leg or something!!” -wally

“i don’t need you telling me the risks, i’ve been at this a lot longer than you!” -you

but you always made up

(wally couldn’t go more than 5 minutes being mad at you)

you were getting cheek kisses and apologies before you knew it

and honestly, you could get on him for dumb stuff about a million times more but you dont so he knows better

and through your teenage years you supported each other in every aspect—mask or no mask

taglist: @summersimmerus // @azazel-nyx // @ravenstrueluv // @captainshazamerica // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 // @stilestotherescue //

[unspuncreature]

hi again. i hate doing this but i could really use some help. my hysterectomy is scheduled one week from today. i have still not received any disability payments from my first surgery back in november and i have been without income since then. i spent my entire saturday in the emergency room bleeding excessively and in debilitating pain. i am still in debilitating pain and the muscle relaxers they prescribed to me only help curb the pain a little and make me fall asleep

i’ve exhausted my savings and resources and am waiting to hear back on my eligibility for food stamps. i have to wait until the end of this month to visit the local food pantry again. i could really use help affording bills and rent and food over the next month while i undergo surgery and begin to recover. there are post-op supplies like more menstrual underwear, electrolyte drink packets, and clothes that do not have holes in them that i have waited until the last minute to purchase because i simply can’t afford them

if you’ve read this, thank you so much. it’s hard to not be embarrassed and ask for this help. this really is not what i want to use this account for. i appreciate every single ounce of help i’ve received so far. thank you

you can donate any amount to my ko-fi or gfm

you can also commission me

howdy, y’all

i am scheduled for top surgery in just a few short months! i’ve wanted this surgery since i was 14, and i’m beyond stoked that it’s really truly finally happening

although i have a little in savings, i live paycheck to paycheck, and i need your help to keep the lights on while i’m recovering

click here to view my gofundme campaign! even a $5 or $10 gift goes a long way towards offsetting the costs of surgery not covered by my insurance provider and carrying me through recovery while i am unable to work

if you’re unable to donate right now, please share this post to your dashboard, with your personal trainer, on your nearest bathroom stall wall, or with that one 3 person group chat with the really specific name. you know the one i’m talking about

sincerely, thank you so much for taking the time to read and share and donate. this online space has been beyond important to me through transition, and i wouldn’t be the person i am today without you and your shitposts and meta and edits and fanart and fic and friendship

i love u guys :o)

[braisedhoney]

well wishes from the void

[duskdrawings]

It's aca-meme time!! 🎶

pp memes #1 / pp memes #2 / bechloe memes

[awakenthebeing]

MIX OF STUFF i am feeling brave tonight and want to place down some goodies i don't think i've shared here <:3!!! Mainly Peaches au critters and stuffs tho both new and sort of olde but ALSO bonus Glory (mm oc on 6th images with purple and yellow colors)

[keepmovinjunior]

🌸

[motordyk]

maybe this vacation was a good idea

[tenebriism]

// Just a heads up that I'm training two new employees this week, and then my vacation to see my bestie starts on Friday, so my presence will be scarce (as if it hasn't already been, but more so, lmao.)

I pumped out what I could yesterday. 👌🏾 Probably should have queued it, but folks have waited long enough. Inbox is also getting nuked once I draft what I think I can conjure up muse for. It's over 100 and, uh... no, lmao.

[puckpocketed]

regular reminder to drink water, unclench your jaw, and take care. holding everyone here tn. luv u all my krakenblr girlies (gender neutral) 💙😭

[multi-fandomsyndrome]

Just learned that some of the concerning mental issues I’ve been having could be because I haven’t been taking my meds (for something else) as often as I should and so I might be accidentally putting myself in a mini-withdrawal

[just-sauntered-vaguely-downwards]

I spent 24hrs with absolutely zero service. It was so needed.

I very highly recommend it. I couldn’t be tempted to look at anything. I did think about things, but it was more letting feelings out than having them weigh me down.

I went and spent the night at a campsite by a river. Studied for my VTNE, laid in my hammock and read, napped being lulled to sleep by the rain hitting my tent during a brief afternoon storm, had a campfire and drank hot cocoa. I didn’t even leave my campsite. It was lovely.

[ox1-lovesick]

sorry for being ia I just haven't been in the best place mentally

[midnight-stormm]

With the minimal information we got, I'm really curious if sap was around bc this story is mainly involving drm and grg at the party, his name is not mentioned. Makes me even more curious if he knew anything bc drm seem to have no idea.

Regardless its important we hear a statement and show support to the victim.