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whocaresstillthelouvre · 19 days

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Wonderwall

Rating: Teen Pairing: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 4,550 Summary: Your ex boyfriend Simon is marrying Sabrina, the woman he left you for. You were sure you'd have have a date in time for his wedding... too bad you were wrong. Once again. your best friend Maria has to save the day by letting you use her handsome, single brother-in-law that owes her a favor as your date. Warnings: fluff, idk what's going on with me but there's so much fluff, soft joel, fake wedding date, rom com vibes, crying over a broken vibrator, no outbreak, maria and tommy are married, sarah and kevin live, british ex boyfriend, reader and joel are close in age (reader is 36, joel is 40), alcohol, i know the gif is marcus pike but i can't stop seeing young joel in this gif, anyways here's wonderwall, no use of y/n, not beta read

A/N: This was written for @justagalwhowrites' Joel Miller Birthday Celebration. Thank you to the always wonderful @ohheypedrito for suggesting the fake dating trope when I asked her what to write.

Masterlist

Fizzy mimosas, fluffy pancakes, crispy hash browns, and sweet maple syrup. Brunch on Sundays with Maria has been a long standing tradition for the two of you. Fifteen years of friendship kept stronger by always promising to make time for each other no matter what is going on in your lives.

These days, Maria’s raising a toddler while building a very successful career in the Austin district attorney's office whereas last night you cried over your vibrator dying while trying to pull an orgasm out of you for an endorphin rush. God knows you need one.

You’ve been in a hole since the arrival of Simon’s wedding invitation. The man you spent your most youthful and fulfilling years with is now marrying Sabrina, the beautiful co-worker he crashed your relationship for. Yeah, yeah, your twenty year partnership was already headed for the cliff, but her perky tits and pouty lips sure did speed up the demise.

“So, Simon’s wedding is next weekend, how do you feel?” Maria interrogates from across the table.

“Fine!” you stuff a pancake triangle into your mouth. “It’s fine! I’m fine!”

“Mm,” she lifts a skeptical eyebrow. Why do you lie to her? She makes three figures locking away liars, she can spot them a mile away. “Let me guess, you still don’t have a date?”

“Ugh, no, why did I mark two on the RSVP?”

“I told you not to,” Maria shakes her head

“Yeah, but, I-I want to show him I’m doing great without him.”

“Babe,” Maria grabs your hand and squeezes it, “I say this with all the love in my heart… you’re not doing great.”

“I knoooow!” you sigh, closing your eyes. “I just thought… I’d show up in my pretty dress with a hot man on my arm and show Simon I’m happy and fulfilled without his love.”

“But you don’t ha–”

“Please, I know. I just– I’m happy for him in some really odd way but I also want to be… happy for myself.”

“Okay,” she nods before taking a deep breath, “here’s what I’m going to do for you. You know Joel?”

“Your… brother-in-law?”

“Yes, he owes me a favor, soooo, he’s going to be your date,” she sits back folding her arms across her chest with a smug smirk. “He’s handsome as hell and a good man but he’s very quiet and intimidating to those who don’t know him. He’s perfect for this situation.”

You do know Joel… just not very well at all. There have been random run-ins at Miller family parties, but nothing more than a quick “hello” and “how are you?” exchanged between the two of you. He seems the opposite of your Dartmouth educated, polo playing yuppie of an ex. “Yoo hoo,” Maria waves her hand in front of your face catching your attention. “Does that work for you?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, I think… it does,” a relieved smile lifts your face.

Maria has, once again, fixed your problem.

—-

RING… RING… RING…

Your fingers nervously tap against the countertop. “Come on, pick uuup, pick uuuup, pick uuu–”

“Miller,” a deep voice answers.

“H-Hi, uh, Joel?” You feel a third your age, like you’re right back in middle school calling the cute boy in your science class because your friend dared you.

“Speaking.”

“Hey, uh, you’re my wedding date? Maria… she gave me your number so we can plan?”

“Oh, yes,” his voice softens. “Saturday, right?”

“Yeah, uh… I think it might be good to go over a story for us before the big day.”

“Right,” he chuckles, “I’m all ears.”

—-

Your eyes roam down your notes from the call. “So, we formally met at Kevin’s graduation party. I call you ‘honey’, our first date was to a movie and then to pizza. We’ve been together for a little over a year. You hate sushi and love tamales. You don’t like water slides. You play the guitar. You have a daughter named Sarah who’s a senior in high school. You own a construction company with Tommy… I think that’s about right?”

"Believe so," the bass of his quiet voice causes goosebumps to pebble your skin. If he's doing this to you over the phone, what will the wedding be like?

"Okay," you settle against your sofa, "and for me?"

Papers shuffle before Joel clears his throat. “Hm, okay. I asked Tommy for your number after Kevin’s graduation party. You work at an insurance company, but you dream of owning your own bookstore one day. You love mashed potatoes. I call you 'baby.' Your favorite color is bronze. You’re a night owl forced to be an early bird. You love Taylor Swift unapologetically. You like staying over at my home because your favorite coffee place delivers to my house.”

“Perfect. I know this is totally weird and all, but, thanks for doing this. Sometimes I allow my pride to sabotage me... and Maria has to come in and save me.”

“She’s good at that.”

“Thanks again Joel.”

“You’re welcome,” his voice feels you with warmth. “I’ll pick you up on Saturday.”

“Yes, Saturday. Until then, have a good week.”

“You too.”

After saying goodbye, you hang up with a plume of butterflies in your stomach.

—

“Okay! Get ready!” you shout from behind your bathroom door.

Your Sunday brunch date with Maria has been moved up to a Saturday afternoon primping and preening spree in your home as she helps you get ready to watch the once love of your life marry someone else.

You step out of the bathroom to find Maria sitting cross-legged on your bed. As soon as she sees you, she leans forward with wide eyes.

"Wow," she breathes, her voice filled with awe. "I mean, seriously, wow."

"Really?" you ask, giving a twirl in your mauve dress, adorned with a delicate print of sequined flowers blooming across the bodice.

“Really,” her eyebrow angles as she nods, “I can’t wait for Miller to have to deal with keeping his cool around you.”

“What?”

Maria just smiles, “Let’s just say, you look hot, that’s all I’m going to say.”

___

A shiny black truck pulls into your driveway. Panic jolts through you as you watch the door swing open from your front window. Out steps Joel Miller, impeccably dressed in a black suit. Oh good lord–he’s your date. Like, date date, as in the guy you’re going to be spending the rest of the night with. The anxiety over Simon and Sabrina’s wedding fades into the background, replaced by the overwhelming challenge of maintaining your composure in the presence of someone who looks that stunning in a tuxedo.

The doorbell rings.

Okay, okay, you got this.

A gust of pleasant autumn air hits your skin when you open the door. Oh good LORD, he looks incredible. His hair is longer than you remember, falling in gentle waves you dream of running your fingers through. His beard is neatly trimmed, though slightly patchy with a strong mustache that frames his plush lips. He has a shy smile, his dimple makes a divot you want to press your finger into. His simple black suit stretches around his obviously toned and broad shoulders.

“Hi, it’s uh, nice to see you again. Come on in,” you say, opening the door wider and stepping aside.

“Course,” he replies, striding in past you. His hand twitches nervously when he turns and takes how you look fully in. “You look– y’look beautiful.”

A flush of warmth spreads through you at the compliment from the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, now standing in the middle of your living room.

“Oh, thanks, uh, it’s not every day your ex boyfriend of twenty years gets married to the woman he left you for… so I guess I needed to show off.”

“It’s–yeah–good,” he stammers, his eyes darting around the room, clearly avoiding your gaze.

“Well, uh, I just need to slip on my shoes and grab my bag, then we can get going. Make yourself at home.”

“Sure thing.”

As you head down the hall to get your things, you hear him let out a long sigh.

Don’t worry dude, I get it. It’s going to be a long night.

“So, um, I know, this is awkward,” you say, returning to the living room and dropping your shoes on the floor, “but I’m really grateful to you.”

He chuckles, sitting on the edge of your couch. “S’alright. I can’t say no to a free meal and open bar.”

“If I still know Simon’s taste, it’ll be a top-notch open bar too,” you muse, slipping into your high heel and bending over to fasten the buckle.

You glance up when you hear Joel’s breath catch. He’s staring intently at you–more specifically, at your exposed leg and thigh, courtesy of the high slit in your dress.

You really had to pick the dress that Maria dubbed “the revenge dress,” didn’t you? He clears his throat and quickly averts his gaze, but the charged atmosphere lingers. You try to ignore it, buckle your other shoe and grab your clutch.

“Ready?” you ask.

“I am," he replies, standing up and adjusting his neck tie, a hint of color warms his cheeks. .

—-

Joel’s truck looks quite out of place pulling into the Hurts Family’s grand estate. Of course Simon’s getting married at Father & Mother’s sprawling manor. You can’t help but wonder if the altar and ceremony will be located in the same conservatory you and Simon lost your virginity to each other in.

The whole drive over, you and Joel practiced your spiels, all the while you tried to ignore the waves of attraction that vibrated between you and him in the small cab of his truck.

He pulls up to the valet and reluctantly hands his keys over to the college aged kid before hurrying over to your door, cutting in front of the doorman to help you down. What a gentleman.

Soft violin music floats through the air and white flower petals line the walkway leading into the massive estate that once felt like your second home. A nagging thought lingers in the back of your mind that you’re about to live what should’ve been your wedding day.

You breathe out deeply, Joel grabs your hand as he guides you into the house.

People mingle, some you don’t know, many you do. Aunt Billie, Uncle Martin, the cousins from Manchester, Simon’s favorite professor. Familiar faces surround you, what the hell were you thinking this would be okay?

You’ve known this home since you were twelve, Simon showed up in your seventh grade algebra class, a new student with bright blue eyes and blonde hair, you thought he was the prettiest boy you had ever seen, even before he spoke… the British accent would’ve been enough to sweep you off your feet. It took a couple years of friendship before you both admitted your crushes on each other, the confessions happened in the movie room, just down the hallway you stand near.

Love is fleeting, love is hopeless. You’ve learned to care for yourself like Simon once cared for you, but now in this home you used to sneak into, you feel just as alone as you did the day you moved out of the house you shared with him for a decade just two streets down from here.

“Hey, you okay?” Joel leans in and whispers. “Squeezin’ my hand mighty hard.”

“Oh,” you blink, refocusing on him, “I am, it’s just… really bizarre and everything. Seeing so many familiar people I haven't seen in years feels strange.”

“You’re doing good, I got you,” he says, letting go of your hand, and wrapping his arm around your waist, guiding you farther into the mansion.

___

The impressive altar stands in the conservatory–you know your ex well– this windowed dwelling means everything to him. Everywhere you look, peach and champagne flowers are nestled among lush green foliage. You and Joel settle eight rows back on the groom's side, just a few feet from the bench you lost your virginity on. Jamie, Simon’s friend from college, sends you a kind smile when you sit next to him.

Your foot taps nervously against the stone tile, keeping rhythm with the soft string music lilting through the air. You take a deep breath to center yourself as the processional begins. The family minister you’ve known since you were fifteen leads the way then–Simon. Still just as handsome, in that specific pretty way that drew you to him as a teenager. The slight waves of his dark blonde hair are more controlled and slicked back. His slender body is topped by wide shoulders from all his years of playing polo. His equally handsome brother Liam follows, along with a handful of friends you used to consider your own.

Joel’s arm wraps around you as Simon takes his place at the altar, his fingers resting firmly on your bare shoulder just in time for the bridal procession to begin. Everybody takes their rightful places waiting for the bride. Simon stands at the altar, laser focused on the doorway, oddly, you feel a sense of happiness for him. Maybe you feel less lonely with the comfort of Joel’s strong arm around you, maybe you’re just caught up in the emotions of the day.

As you expected, Lia and Ewan, Simon’s niece and nephew, are the ring bearer and flower girl. You were at the hospital when both of them were born. You taught both of them how to swim. They used to call you their aunt.

The small orchestra begins playing “The Wedding March,” the audience stands in anticipation of Sabrina’s entrance. The curtains part and she appears shimmering down the aisle in her ivory dress. Okay, you have to admit, she looks gorgeous. Joel pulls you closer, his hand rests against your hip as Sabrina and her father pass your row. You’re grateful for his presence, even if it’s just a comforting distraction that just happens to be pretend.

The look on Simon’s face is unmistakable when he takes Sabrina’s hand–it’s the same look he would give you whenever he told you loved you all those thousands upon thousands of times.

You take your seat, Joel’s hand finds your shoulder once more. It’s going to be damn hard to concentrate on the ceremony.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today.

—

You survive the ceremony… thanks to Joel and his calloused hand rubbing circles on your shoulder. As Simon and Sabrina lead the recessional out of the conservatory, Simon spots you and sends you a knowing wink and smile when he spots Joel next to you. Maybe it’s a good thing you attended, it’s the final picket placed in the closure fence.

“You good?” Joel whispers in your ear while watching the rest of the party leave. You turn to respond, failing to realize his face is now right next to yours. His lips now sit a breath away from yours. Panic slips in, overwhelmed by the thought of anyone catching an awkward moment like this, especially since you’re the ex girlfriend the groom left for his brand new bride.

Fuck it. You lean forward and place your lips against his, leaving a delicate peck against them. At least now you’ll have this moment that’s just for you.

—

The warm autumn sun is beginning to set casting the preened and pristine gardens of the Hurts Estate in amber tones. Thank god for the cocktail hour and open bar.

You sip your champagne and smile at a few familiar faces while gazing out upon the vast lawns you used to spend lazy days sunbathing and playing croquet on. What a bizarre homecoming of sorts. Joel is taking his role seriously, constantly checking on you and never leaving your side.

A familiar voice calls your name, pulling you from your reverie.

“Oh sweetheart! It’s so lovely to see you!” Simon’s mother, Adeline, greets you with kisses on both cheeks before pulling you into a warm hug. You’ve always liked the woman and she always adored you. She turns to your date, her eyes lighting up when she looks Joel up and down.

“Addy, this is my boyfriend Joel.” A rush of excitement is sent through you at the simple introduction. “Joel, this is Simon’s mom, Adeline.”

“Good evening ma’am,” Joel says, extending his hand to shake hers gently. “It’s quite beautiful here.”

“Oh, thank you! Aside from our two boys, this is our pride and joy. There’s nothing better than seeing your child get married in the place you call home.” .

“Well, I’ve heard a lot of nice things about this place, you have a lot of good memories here, right baby?” Joel looks at you with an affectionate smile. Oh he’s good.

“I do,” you smile warmly at Addy.

“Oh sweetheart! That makes me so happy! You’re always welcome here, I’m so happy Simon invited you!”

“I am too, it’s so nice to see you,” you say, realizing how much you truly miss her. You spent twenty years of your life around so many of these people before being cut off cold turkey from them.

“Shoot! I better keep moving and making my rounds! Do enjoy the bar, and make sure tell them Addy sent you; they’ll give you the real good stuff. Joel, are you a whiskey man?”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel replies with a nod.

“We’ve got some Old Rip Van Winkle, aged 25 years. Just tell them Adeline insists and they’ll pour you a glass.”

“Thank you ma’am,” Joel says gratefully.

“Oh, I like him darling!” Addy winks before turning to leave, her gold dress gleaming just as bright as her personality.

—

The large tent erected for the ceremony glows in pink and orange hues. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling overflowing with roses and garlands. It’s gorgeous and opulent everywhere you look.

You’ve been nervous about your table assignment since you sent in your RSVP. Who will you be stuck with? You prayed it would be strangers versus people you used to call friends. You thank your lucky stars when you’re led to table eleven, where you’re greeted warmly by strangers. You tell your new tablemates you’re an old friend of Simon’s, Joel grabs your hand and gently holds it while you introduce yourselves, shocked you still haven’t had to utilize the stories you and him invented.

Ladies and gentlemen! Please welcome for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Simon Hurts!

The two lovebirds make their grand entrance, glowing and grinning in their newlywed aura before the symphonic melody of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” begins to play. Hilarious, the last time you heard this song it was on a playlist Sabrina had made for Simon… a couple weeks before your ultimate separation. You got into a fight over the amount of times he’d play it, he told you were overreacting and being dramatic, you should’ve trusted your instincts right then and there.

They look so happy and gorgeous together, dancing their first dance surrounded by all of their loved ones inside this picturesque setting. It should’ve been you…

Joel leans in closer, wrapping his arm around you, stealing your attention from your spiraling thoughts. “I can’t play this song on violin or cello, but I can play it on guitar, maybe I can play it for you sometime.”

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his, “I–I’d like that.”

“Thought you would,” he smirks, before leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead.

He’s been touching you all night, always considerate and tender, as if he holds an actual amount of reverence in his heart for you. God, he’s either the sweetest man to ever live, or he should give up the construction job, move to Hollywood and start acting.

—

Simon and Sabrina make their rounds after dinner, they’re a table away laughing and galavanting with friends you used to call your own. It’s been over a year since you last spoke to him and now as the ultimate final thing you’ve been dreading is near, you’re nervous as hell. Joel casually drapes his arm around the back of your chair before leaning forward and pressing his lips to the top of your head, helping subside some of your anxieties.

“You good?” he checks in with a soft whisper.

You nod, scooting closer into the shell he’s created for you with his large body.

Simon catches your eye with a warm, gentle smile as he leads Sabrina over to your table. You can’t be too mad at him, he’s been nothing but a gentleman since he forced the end of your already faltering relationship. Sabrina, well–she was just a better match for him. You wish them well, no matter how much it still seemingly hurts. You just want Simon to miss you a little bit.

The newlyweds greet the rest of the table, collecting well-wishes and flattery from the guests before turning their attention to you and Joel.

Simon bends forward and gives you a tight hug before thanking you and saying how lovely it is to see you. Sabrina says hello, you tell her she looks beautiful, she returns the favor.

Simon extends his hand to Joel and introduces himself. “I’m Simon, I’m sure you’ve heard a bit about me–hopefully some good,” he says, his ever present British charm helps cut through the tension radiating off of Joel’s gruff reservedness.

“She has,” Joel replies, shaking Simon’s hand. “I’m Joel. Nice to meet you both. Congrats. S’been a lovely wedding.”

The four of you make casual conversation. Joel mentions he’s a contractor, Simon’s eyes light up before he mentions how he wants to build a pool house. Your heart twinges a bit when you remember it’s all for pretend and there’s no way Joel could take the job. Joel makes a joke about how dinner was better than a No. 5 from Whataburger, eliciting a ruckus laugh from the newlyweds. You feel good, until the sinking feeling inside rears its ugly head and reminds you this is all a sham.

Sabrina nods to Simon in an unspoken understanding that they need to move on with their greetings. Joel wishes them well and thanks them for the lovely party. You smile and do the same.

“It’s good to see you happy,” Simon says as he gives you a parting hug.

If only he knew…

You’re quiet as you watch Simon and Sabrina walk away, Simon’s hand is placed on Sabrina’s back lightly stroking up and down. Joel softly says your name, breaking your concentration on the happy married couple.

“I like this song, let’s dance,” he says, rising and extending his hand to you.

“Wonderwall?” you ask, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor. “Let me guess, you can play it on guitar.”

“I do,” he confirms with a smile, pulling you close against his body. His large hand splays against your lower back, and yours finds its place on his firm shoulder. The wedding band has slowed the song down, couples gently sway around you. The twinkling lights above reflect in Joel’s dark brown eyes. You can’t stop looking at him, he can’t stop looking at you. The moment is intimate, to any other wedding guest, you look like a couple just as in love as the newlyweds.

You rest your head against his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne–woodsy, smoky, with a hint of cinnamon. His thumb strokes against the skin of your hand as your bodies synchronistically move together. This doesn't feel like pretending at all.

The song ends, Joel makes no move to pull away, and you don’t either. The first notes of the next song begin and you recognize the drumbeat anywhere. You can’t believe you’re hearing it here, of all places.

“We can leave the Christmas lights up till January…”

“Ohh,” you let out a soft sigh against Joel’s chest, feeling your heart drop. “This was going to be our first dance song, I-I told him it as soon as I first heard it all those years ago.”

Joel tilts his head down, his concerned brown eyes peer into yours. “M’sorry, did you want to stop?”

“No, no, it’s–I can’t leave the floor during this. What if he sees me?”

Joel nods reassuringly before tightening his hold on you and pulling your joined hands in closer. His head rests on top of yours engulfing you with his broad body, like your own personal fake wedding date security blanket.

Your heartbreak slowly dissipates, mended by the gentle touch and attention of Joel. The song ends, he asks if you want to get a breath of fresh air, you gratefully nod before taking his hand and telling him you know a place.

—

The breeze rolling off the lake sends a chill across your skin, Joel takes notice, quickly removing his jacket and places it over your shoulders without hesitation.

“Thanks,” you say, sinking into the leftover warmth of Joel.

“No problem,” he says, shuffling his neck tie open and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his crisp white dress shirt. “I’m burnin’ up under it.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence as you watch the tranquil waves lap at the shore. “Sorry about earlier. It was just… a shock to hear that song. He moved on so quickly and I feel like I’ve just been left wondering how I can so easily be… replaced.”

“No need to apologize,” he sighs, “I’m not good at any of this stuff, but, you don’t seem like someone that’s so… easy to get over.”

Your heart skips a beat when you look over at him. The soft ambient glow of the full moon reflecting off the water bathes him in an almost ethereal glow, making him look like a knight in shining armor who walked through a portal to help save you from your own wounded heart you’ve been trying to heal for the past two years.

“Guess you just don’t know me very well then,” you joke, trying to slow down the thoughts racing within your heart and mind.

“No, but I think I’d like to,” he says, turning to you with a sincere look in his eyes.

“I-I’d like that too.”

Joel hesitates for a moment before asking, “There’s a new Curtis & Viper movie releasing next week. Did you want to go with me?”

“Like a real date?” you ask, your voice tinged with excitement.

“Suppose it would be. We could recreate our ‘first’ date that we told that one aunt of Simon’s all about. We’ll get pizza at the place across the street.”

“I’d love that,” you say, your excitement clear in your voice.

From across the yard, you can just make out the sound of the band playing for the wedding guests.

Joel takes a deep breath and turns to you with a warm, playful smile. “I feel better asking you here so you know I’m being for real. I really want to dance with you. May I have this dance?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you reply, a smile spreading across your face as he pulls you closer.

You remind yourself to send Maria a bouquet of flowers for setting up your fake wedding date as you settle into his embrace.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #tlou joel #no outbreak!joel miller

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notjustjavierpena · 8 months

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Te Quiero, a Husband!Javier Valentine’s Special

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This is for all my readers who have wanted to get an insight into Hubby and Wife’s dynamic, backstory and family life. I hope you enjoy it because I put my heart into this mess of a fic. Thank you @strang3lov3 for always inspiring me, thank you @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for always being a great beta-reader and here’s to @morallyinept who told me to tag her in any V-Day fic I post!l

Summary: Your husband has made big plans for Valentine's Day, beginning with breakfast in bed, but not everything goes as smoothly as expected, and suddenly you are faced with a big surprise.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18, hubby!Javier, tooth-rotting domestic bliss, breastfeeding, playful banter, Chucho makes an appearance!!, siblings being siblings, Javi loving you and his kids, negative feelings about your mom-body, insecurity/comfort, spontaneous sex, pussy eating, (Spanish) dirty talk, fingering, unprotected piv sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, silly people in love, LOTS of kisses, lots of i love yous, mention of pregnancy and its symptoms

Word count: 11.7k (i am so sorry)

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53757202

Te Quiero

You open your eyes, reaching to rub them as the door to the bedroom opens by Javier using his shoulder and backing into it. There’s a crease on his forehead, between his furrowed brows, from looking extremely concentrated because he is carrying a wooden tray in his hands.

Most days you are a heavy sleeper. It is a result of having two children without an understanding of the concept of privacy when it comes to their parents. However, what truly wakes you up is the concerning rustle of utensils, plates, and mugs that your husband is balancing as he nears your shared bed.

Because Javier has his back to you, you close your eyes again and pretend to be asleep, not wanting to ruin the surprise. The tray is placed on the foot of the bed, and you fight a smile as you hear his footsteps coming around the end of the bed and closer to your side.

“Buenos días (good morning),” he whispers to you, and you roll onto your back and sit up. Javier stands by the side of the bed and waits.

Like in a movie, you blink awake slowly and lift your arms up over your head to stretch and yawn. Javier looks at you expectantly, and you catch a glimpse of why your son resembles him so much. They both have that boyish charm, the ability to look excited in the exact same way when waiting for a reaction from you.

“What’s all this?” You ask with a grin.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, mi vida (my life),” he says and leans down to initiate a kiss.

“I have bad breath,” you point out.

“I have coffee,” he replies and kisses you anyway, “And today’s crossword puzzle.”

“I knew I married you for a reason,” you scoot to sit back against the headboard. Javier moves to get into bed with you, pulling the covers aside to get under them while you reach for the tray. You place it between the two of you as if you are about to have a picnic in bed.

“Did you check on Seb?” You ask as you marvel at the breakfast that Javier has put together for the two of you. There are heart-shaped chocolate chip pancakes, an abundance of fresh fruit (including blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, and banana), whipped cream, syrup, and coffee the way you both like it; black without anything more which Javier claims - to this day - is still one of the reasons that he fell for you.

“Still asleep for now but I suspect he’ll want one of us soon because he can hear us,” he tells you and reaches for his mug after handing you yours.

“I’ll enjoy this while it lasts then,” you take a sip of coffee, humming at the taste. Then, after putting down your mug, you pop a blueberry into your mouth.

“I think Lucas has a crush,” Javier tells you in a heartbeat later, smirking into his own cup of coffee.

You raise a brow in suspicion and surprise, looking at him without turning your head. You swallow down the blueberry and go for the pancakes next, “What makes you say that?”

“Well, he got shy when I asked him if they were making Valentine cards at school today. So I figured something was up because he usually doesn’t get quiet about all those things, you know, he’s touchy-feely,” Javier explains. As he talks, you pour syrup onto the stack of pancakes on your plate, “Inés nearly fell off her chair as she talked about what the school has planned. So yeah, whatever, he’ll tell us if he wants to.”

“Well, perhaps, and hopefully I might add, he’s inherited his dad’s charm as well as his good looks,” you tease, tapping your chin as if you are trying to remember something, “What was it Connie called you? Think it was serial romancer.”

“Hold on, you’ve never told me this,” he pretends to look offended, “When was this?”

“At the bar… just after I laid eyes on you,” you sprinkle fruit on top of your breakfast and wipe your hand on your tank top, “She told me not even to think about it but I knew that I was done for.”

“That damn woman,” he lets out a genuine laugh, “Better tell Steve to keep his lady under control.”

“Connie’s definitely the one keeping her man under control. Just like me,” you smirk, taking a bite that is way too big because your eyes can’t get enough. You groan at the taste. Everything is delicious, so you stuff your mouth and thus don’t have to reply to your husband’s outrage.

“Hey,” he says but you just grin at him, showing off each piece of pancake between your teeth. He sighs but there’s a hint of adoration in his eyes and you know he is fighting a smile, “Charming.”

When you finally swallow, he has dug into his own meal. You eat in silence for a moment, simply enjoying each other’s company as it is undisturbed by children.

“Don’t you have work today?” You ask eventually.

“I told them I was coming in later,” he replies, stabbing a strawberry with his fork, “They can survive without me until 10-ish. They’re gonna have to.”

You glance over at the clock on your nightstand. It is 8:16. There’s still time to enjoy each other’s company, maybe even have a cuddle or something more if you aren’t too full from breakfast.

Javier has opened the paper now but he hasn’t gotten out a pen yet which means that he isn’t starting the puzzle yet. You continue eating, and meanwhile, conversation flows naturally around subjects like work, kids, and sweet memories.

Suddenly, in the midst of reminiscing about your first trip out of town together, the light on the baby monitor comes on and Sebastian’s distraught, unhappy cries sound through the speaker. Javier puts down the paper and gets up before you.

“Do you think he’s hungry?” You ask, already moving to pull your top’s straps down to reveal your breasts.

“I know he is, that’s how he cries when he is,” he moves towards the door, already talking to his son throughout the house, “I’m coming, mijo (my son).”

“You’re so much better at the parent thing than me,” you try to remember which of your breasts you nursed from last night but you cannot, and therefore resort to feeling for the fuller one.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” he leans down to kiss your lips before heading down the hall. You listen and wait, hearing Javier coo at his newborn and causing the cries to turn into hiccups instead.

After a moment, he returns with Sebastian in his arms. You hold out your own and he carefully hands him over to you. With a grin, you settle your baby into your arms, “Hi, sweetheart. Hi there, baby boy, ooo, you’re hungry, aren’t you? Look at that big mouth you’ve got — Honey, can you get me a cloth?”

You don’t look up but hear Javier leave the room again but only briefly. He comes back and gives you a muslin cloth which you throw over your shoulder, a thing that always makes Javier joke about you looking like - and kind of being - a bartender if that bartender only served milk.

Sebastian quickly latches on. He closes his eyes as he nurses, and you look longingly at your breakfast as he eats his own. You frown, “It’s getting cold. My coffee too.”

“Just sit back,” your husband reassures, shifting on the bed without making the tray tip over. He cuts a piece of pancake and stabs it with his fork, “Open up.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you smile happily but oblige.

“You’re literally keeping my kid alive, mi amor (my love). The least I can do is keep you alive as well, fuel you up,” he feeds you with his own mouth slightly agape. It makes you laugh.

“What?” Javier chuckles in his confusion.

“You look like a fish,” you tease as you giggle, letting Sebastian grab at your index finger, “I’ve never noticed if you look like this too when feeding the kids.”

“Cállate (shut up),” he laughs, consciously avoiding making himself look foolish again as he feeds you another bite. He purposely pokes your nose with the back of your fork to smear the tip with whipped cream, and you respond by looking shocked while laughing.

“That’s so unfair, I have an actual baby in my arms,” you argue, looking down at Sebastian to give him the run-down on his father’s behavior, “You know, Seb, it’s a good thing I love him so much. Look at this. Absolutely ridiculous.”

“I think you might have deserved that one, baby,” he reasons, “Don’t think I feel bad. Seb agrees.”

“You don’t know that,” you use the muslin cloth to wipe a little milk off of your child’s cheek and then wipe whipped cream off your nose too, “Now, please, feed your starving wife. I feel weaker by the second.”

“Always the dramatic,” he replies but follows through.

The teasing dies down after that. You eat whatever Javier gives you whilst you are breastfeeding and Javier eventually finds the crossword in the paper to do it during your quiet morning.

When Sebastian is done eating, cooing happily, you bend your knees and place him against your thighs. You hold both of his hands, doing a little dance with him whilst your husband reads clues aloud.

“Another word for radiance, four letters and beginning with g,” he says.

“Glow,” you reply instantly.

“You’re so much better at the crossword thing than me,” he winks and writes down the remaining letters.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” you smile at him and he smiles back. The morning is perfect.

After a cozy morning, Javier has to leave for work. He kisses you and Sebastian goodbye and takes the breakfast tray down into the kitchen with him so you can sleep more if you want to.

You protest at first - it really hadn’t been your intention - but seeing your baby yawn and coo in your arms makes you sleepy, and you end up on your side with Sebastian on Javier’s side of the bed. He has his arms above his head, face turned towards you and you rest an arm over him whilst you snore lightly. The few hours of sleep you get like this without any interruption are fantastic, boosting your productivity for the rest of the early afternoon.

You dress casually and wrap Sebastian in a sling, so he can sleep against your chest while you clean up from breakfast, fill and start the dishwasher, and do a round of laundry before having to pick up Lucas and Inés from school.

However, when you start to get the car keys from their place in the hallway, you hear the door open and the familiar sound of children’s voices filling the house. You can hear the enthusiasm in their voices as they talk to who you assume is your husband but when you turn the corner, you see that it is, in fact, your father-in-law.

“Hello, mija (my daughter),” Chucho says and takes off his hat. He hangs it by all the coats and scarves, “Javier told me to pick up the kiddos.”

You look a little dumbstruck, having been taken completely by surprise but still, you walk over to give him a hug and receive a kiss on the cheek, “Did he say why?”

Chucho kisses Sebastian’s head too, who only coos quietly against your chest. From below, Inés is trying to get your attention. You run a hand over her hair without looking at her, trying to get her to tone down her enthusiasm as you search for answers. Chucho just smiles.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, sweetie,” he reasons with a gentle smile, “I think he has his reasons. All I know is that I’m not supposed to bring them back here before tomorrow afternoon after school.”

“Abuelo promised that we could get pizza for dinner,” Inés interrupts again. You smile down at her whilst trying to process having a whole twenty-four hours off from being parents.

“Ain’t you lucky,” you say with a grin.

Chucho beckons Lucas over who brings his school bag with him, “But first, I think these two have some things to show you. Lucas, c’mere.”

“We made presents!” Inés says and Lucas glares. He frowns at his little sister, placing his backpack by his feet and throwing daggers in her direction.

“Inés, you’re ruining the surprise,” he grumbles despite still digging into the bag. Inés seems unbothered about his irritation, simply joining him to stick her hands into the bag as well. Lucas continues, “Don’t tell Mom what it is.”

You and Chucho watch them, hiding a chuckle as Inés eventually still states that she wants to show her drawing first and Lucas starts groaning.

“Mom!” He says with exasperation.

“Ay, Inés, por favor (please),” you say, “Let Lucas share his surprise. It’ll be your turn soon.”

“Mine is for Papá,” she states proudly.

“She’s just excited, hijito (little son),” you hear your father-in-law say. He puts a calloused hand on Lucas’ shoulder, whispering quietly, “Show your mom your present. Inés’ll be too busy talking to notice.”

It is true. Inés gets a hold of her drawing and spends her time admiring her work, and Chucho is sweet enough to indulge her to give you and your son a moment alone.

In his very own gentle nature, Lucas finds the card that he has made for you just next to where Chucho had told him to store Inés’ drawing as well. He blushes as he hands it to you, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mom.”

You inspect it before opening it; it is a blank card that Lucas has decorated with colorful stickers and glitter, having drawn shapes and patterns along the sides and a big heart in the middle where it says To Mom in his wonky handwriting.

You open it to reveal a little letter addressed to you. It is framed by another border of glitter:

Dear Mom,

Happy Valentine’s Day! I love you a million billion times around the Earth. You take care of me and Inés and Sebastian. And you always make me happy when you give me a hug.

Love, Lucas

You find yourself speechless for a moment and out of the corner of your eye, you see the familiar expectant face that Javier sported earlier too. It takes your breath away.

Carefully, you crouch down with Sebastian still in his sling. It gives you the opportunity to embrace Lucas from the side, hugging him close and kissing his hair repeatedly. You whisper endearments to him, tell him you love him and he gets shy as he reciprocates, using the time to caress Sebastian’s fine hair on top of his head.

“I love you so much, my Valentine boy,” you say with a soft voice as you pull away, stretching again and running your hand through his dark hair repeatedly. You can feel a few more tears escape your eyes, your heart pinching in your chest from how much love you feel. Could the day become more perfect? You doubt it.

“Dad asked me about it at breakfast but I was scared of him telling you so it wouldn’t be a surprise because he always does. But then Inés did it anyway…” he grumbles and looks up to see your tears. His eyes widen, “Mom, are you crying?”

“It’s just happy tears, mijo (my son),” you reassure, “Sometimes having babies makes you cry a little more often.”

Lucas seems a little confused by this. You tell him that he’ll understand when he gets older. After all, he only has so many years until hormones will start to rage through his own body.

Suddenly, the front door opens and closes in the next moment, and Inés giggles loudly as she recognizes the sound of her father’s footsteps. When he enters the kitchen doorway - his steps are way bigger even if Inés is running - he crouches down and opens his arms, “There she is! Mi diablilla (my little devil), how are you?”

Inés throws her arms around her father’s neck, drawing still clutched in her grip to the point where the paper crinkles. You feel like it was a waste of time to try and wipe away your happy tears because the sight makes them well up in your eyes once more.

“I made you a drawing. Abuelo told me I could give it to you before we go to his house. Did you know we are having pizza tonight? I can have a whole pizza to myself and I want the pizza to have pepperoni,” Inés announces, squealing with delight as Javier wraps his arms around her before stretching to his full height again and picking her up with a dad-groan. He places her on his hip, bumping his nose into her cheek.

“Christ, you get bigger by the second. Pizza? I don’t remember you liking pizza,” Javier teases, walking across the room to the rest of his family. He smiles at his son, reaching out to rub his shoulder with his free hand and winking at him before talking further with babbling Inés, “Hold on, I thought you liked broccoli and spinach the most. Do you really want pepperoni? I think you should get broccoli on your pizza.”

Inés loves it when her father teases her. He’ll act dumb and silly on purpose - her favorite thing a year ago had been whenever he made himself purposely bad at puzzles, and he’d try to piece two corners together - much to his daughter’s delight.

“Nooo, ew!” She says with a grin, clinging onto him.

“She only wants it because I want it,” Lucas says matter-of-factly, still a little frustrated with his little sister. He bounces back and forth on his heels.

“Then you can have her leftovers, mijo (my son), she never eats a whole pizza anyway” Javier reasons and mouths the last bit of the sentence, moving the hand on his son’s shoulder to put it on the back of his neck. He gently tugs him into his side. Eventually, your son gives in and hugs him around his middle.

“Hi Dad,” he says softly, hugging him tightly even if it’s briefly.

“Hola,” he smiles.

“We should get going,” Chucho interrupts gently and reaches for his hat again, “We’ve got a lot of things planned this afternoon. The animals won’t take care of themselves.”

“My drawing!” Inés yells, squirming in her father’s arms from eagerness and rushing, so much that she nearly smacks the picture into his face. She holds it too close to his eyes so that he has to take it and hold it for her.

You find yourself tiptoeing up behind them to look at the picture yourself, trying not to distract anyone from what they’re doing.

It’s a picture of your house. There’s a fire in the chimney but its smoke blows the opposite way of the way that a cloud is raining. She has just started drawing butterflies but they’re as big as the trees in the garden and with multicolored wings.

In the bottom right corner, she has written I love Daddy but replaced the word love with a heart instead. Underneath is her signature. The S in her name is turning the wrong way but it’s her name nevertheless.

“This is so good,” Javier says enthusiastically, “Tell me about it. What is it?”

“It’s my house! I drew a lot of butterflies in the garden,” she explains proudly. In the background, you notice that Chucho is carrying bags, which you had no idea were packed, out of the front door.

“I can see that. You really know how to color. The green one is my favorite,” Javier continues, “Do you want me to put it on the fridge for when you come home tomorrow?”

Inés nods eagerly. She beams and then turns serious, “Yes! If— if you want to take the rabbit one down that’s okay.”

“Oh, I am gonna miss you, mi vida (my life),” Javier pecks her cheek and she giggles, “So much.”

“It’s only till tomorrow,” you point out with a giggle.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t miss these rascals,” Javier puts Inés down on the floor again, still holding her drawing and making sure not to crumple it. He ruffles Lucas’ hair, “You too, hijo (son).”

“I love you, Dad,” he says with a shy smile.

“I love you too, Daddy!” Inés joins in.

You mimic a wave with Sebastian’s little hand, “I love you too, Papá.”

“Now, now. As much as I love you, say bye to Mom,” he protests, nodding towards his infant son, “Want me to take him?”

“Yes, please,” you say and carefully unwrap Sebastian from his sling. It’s not a difficult transfer, something you have done a million times in the past many years. Sebastian only complains a little, Javier tuts and bounces him and the paper in his hand flaps.

You hug both of your kids at the same time, kissing them repeatedly on their heads, “I love you very much, my babies. I hope you have a fun time.”

“That’s the car packed,” Chucho announces as he comes back inside, “Come on, kids.”

“Right, I’ll put Seb in his car seat,” Javier replies as Inés and Lucas run to their grandfather’s car. Chucho goes with them to put on their seatbelts.

“Sebastian is going too?” You tense up. This hasn’t even crossed your mind.

“It’s just supposed to be us tonight,” Javier says, having put Inés’ drawing on the kitchen counter and already moving towards the front door where the car seat is on top of a cabinet. You hear shuffling around as your husband clicks the safety belt on, and you instinctively follow.

“We haven’t done that since the summer,” you argue.

“All the more reason to do it again if it’s been that long,” he responds with a little smile.

“Well, does he have enough milk?” You ask, moving your weight from side to side.

“More than enough, I packed extra.”

“O-okay.”

Javier leaves the car seat on the floor, steps close to you and cups your face, “He’ll be fine. Just like Inés and Lucas have been in the past. Relax, mi amor, no pasa nada (my love, it’s okay).”

“Okay,” you take a deep breath and nod, holding onto one of Javier’s wrists for a moment as you steady yourself. He looks like someone ready to catch you, “Está todo bien (it’s okay).”

“Now, let’s say goodbye so I can have you to myself, vale?” He smirks, leaning in to kiss you just barely.

“You have to tell me what you have planned tonight too,” you say and he nods.

“Claro (of course).”

It takes five minutes to get Sebastian in the car, secure him properly, and wave goodbye to your kids from the driveway. When you cannot see the car anymore, you walk inside and the house gets incredibly quiet after you close the door. The both of you let out a sigh.

“What now?” You look at Javier questioningly. After all, he is the one who has planned the next 24 hours.

“Honestly? I just want to take a nap,” he finds your hips and steers you closer, linking his arms around your waist. You reach up to rest your palms on his chest, scratching slightly against his shirt. He chuckles, “Do you want to take a nap with me?”

“Just a nap?” You raise a brow.

“Yes, just a nap,” he confirms with a boyish twinkle in his eyes.

“I’d kill for a nap but only if you tell me what’s happening later. I don’t like surprises,” you remind him when he already starts dragging you by your hand toward the stairs.

Javier waits until the both of you have ascended the stairs before telling you. You don’t say it but there’s a bit of relief following as you thought that he had forgotten what today was, especially because you usually at least get a present from him. He smiles brightly as he speaks, seeming proud that he has managed to keep it a secret from you, “Well, first you are going to wear something nice, a dress, and get all gorgeous for me.”

He continues as you reach the bedroom, toeing off his shoes, “Then at eight, I’m taking you out to dinner at that new place downtown where the portions are fucking tiny and ridiculous.”

“Wait, the gourmet restaurant?” You have let go of his hand to undo the baby wrap, folding it afterward and placing it on your shared dresser, “They’ve been fully booked for months.”

“Well yeah, and guess whose name is on one of the bookings,” he smirks, crawling onto the bed and waiting for you to follow.

“You spoil me,” you lay down on your respective sides and turn to face each other. You rest both hands underneath your cheek, grinning at the way that Javier looks so mischievous but suddenly, something in his eyes darkens.

“What?” You ask.

He reaches out for your waist, “And then when we get home, when you are all giggly from champagne, I am putting a baby in you.”

Your heart skips a beat. All blood in your body goes south. Without thinking, you sling a leg over his body and move closer, “Is that so?”

“Indeed, mi vida (my life),” the hand on your waist goes to rest on top of your thigh. He rubs it once and then twice but doesn’t do anything further, “But not now. Have a nap, wake up, and get pretty for me. You won’t get dick before tonight, lo siento (I’m sorry).”

“Unfair,” you mumble with already closed eyes.

It turns out to be just a nap. You wake a good while longer before Javier, knowing that you need more time than he does to get ready if you want to feel good about going to a fancy restaurant.

Besides you, your husband continues sleeping soundly. He doesn’t even sense it when the mattress shifts, bed springs creaking a little, as you leave the bed, and you make a mental note to ask him about his day to figure out what on Earth has made him this tired.

You have a checklist in your head with steps for getting ready to go out. It changes with the details of the event, so you pull out the one that includes what you like to do to look pretty for your husband. However, all the lists always start with a shower.

The spray is hot and soothing against your skin. You wash your hair and leave in your conditioner while you scrub your body, giving it extra time to work as you top your normal shower routine by shaving your legs. After struggling with balancing your leg against the wall for what has seemed like forever, the last five minutes of your shower are just spent standing underneath the shower head to feel the water cascading down your clean, smooth, and soft skin.

It takes you twenty-five minutes more to put on lotion, brush your teeth, blow dry your hair, and choose an outfit. When you leave the bathroom to put on your dress, Javier kisses you in the doorway before popping into the shower himself.

Now the hard part, you think to yourself. The dress you have chosen is from your anniversary a few years ago, consisting of tight red fabric. A part of you knows that it’s a bad idea as soon as you take it off its hanger and start putting it on, stepping into it, and pulling it up over your hips.

When it hugs your body in a way that feels unfamiliar to you, you step towards the full-body mirror on the bedroom wall with the intention of seeing if it needs any adjustments around your chest and waist. What greets you is not something that you wish to continue looking at but staring into the mirror, you find yourself unable to look away.

A reflection of your post-baby body stares back. You aren’t anymore who you were when you had Lucas, and thus getting back into your usual shape after giving birth to Sebastian has not become a reality despite the pressure from people around you being there.

There’s not much to say about it except your hips are wider and your stomach protrudes more than it did before. Usually, you haven’t worn a dress before getting down to your pre-pregnancy weight but Javier had made it sound so easy and now, it is so difficult; insecurities whisper in your ear as you try to flatten the fabric in hopes of looking prettier.

However, the scrutiny you put yourself under only intensifies and self-doubt becomes the uninvited guest that insecurity brings to the party. Should you ditch the idea of a dress altogether? You think yes and start to undress again because it’s way too tight around your middle and torso.

When Javier comes back into the bedroom, his hair is still damp and he has put on black underwear. You cannot help feeling the tiniest bit bitter at how well his extra pounds suit him and simply leaves him with a so-called dad-bod. He finds you stepping out of the dress as it has pooled around your feet. You look on the verge of tears at this point, knowing that you are not the woman that he chose to marry ten years ago.

“¿Que pasó (What happened)?” He is just about to head for the dresser when he stops in his tracks and turns on his heel to face you, noticing immediately the way your shoulders slump when you feel defeated.

You smile at him in the mirror, slightly unsure, when he catches your eyes, and you shift a little on the spot when he goes to stand right behind you.

“What?” You ask.

“What’s wrong?” He inquires once again.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” The question leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and Javier raises a brow.

“Is this a trick question?” He continues with a smile, “Baby, you are pretty, so pretty. You look incredible. As in, it is actually illegal or should be.”

Your attempt at a smile falters and Javier seems to realize that he has overdone it. You don’t believe him when he goes too head-on with the compliments.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you say in frustration and reach up to rub your face, finally turning around to avoid the mirror completely, “My boobs are too big, my thighs and waist too. Nothing looks good on me, especially not a dress.”

“Ay, slow down,” he looks down at your half-naked body and smirks a little. It mostly just makes you want to cover up again, “First of all, your boobs are great.”

You try to laugh but it just sounds painful. Then he finds your eyes again, watches the pout on your face, and tuts when a tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek.

“I’m not beautiful anymore,” you say as if it’s a fact, “I look so different from when you met me.”.

He wipes the tear away with his thumb, saying your name gently and you find your eyes prickling with more frustrated tears.

He lets out a soft aww, baby, and steps closer to pull you into his arms, holding you as he lets you whimper quietly and then cry softly into his shoulder. His hands rub up and down your back. He is so warm.

“How about I choose something?” He suggests after a long silence filled with a bunch of silent tears. He pulls back to look you in the face, “You know I have a favorite, and then it won’t be as much pressure if you worry that I won’t like it. Even if that’s bullshit.”

“O-okay,” you sniffle, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Okay, baby,” he smiles genuinely and pecks your hair.

He goes to browse through your clothes and you stay by the mirror, still not turning around to look at yourself but instead looking at your feet like a child feeling guilty. It takes a moment for him to find the dress that he refers to as his favorite but when he returns to you, you look up again and are surprised by the one he apparently likes more than all the others.

It’s a navy blue satin dress that you bought last year when you were pregnant with Sebastian, and it quickly became your favorite dress for the summer because it had to be tied just below your breasts and therefore didn’t sit tight around your belly. It has butterfly sleeves and a flowy skirt that is slightly longer in the back and stops right at your knees in the front. It’s a wrap-around too, which means that it shows enough cleavage to make you feel sexy for him and to top it off, holds your breasts in place so you can avoid the annoyance of a bra.

You don’t know why it didn’t come to mind but you suspect that given how much you wore it last summer, it didn’t feel special enough. However, the fact that Javier likes it so much seems to transform it into the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen.

Javier pulls the dress off its hanger and walks around you. He puts it on you like a coat and then stands in front of you to tie a knot on the front, undoing it and redoing it when he isn’t satisfied with his creation the first time. None of you say anything. None of you feel the need to.

His hands smooth out the fabric in a careful manner, and you suddenly find that Javier making you feel loved is so interchangeable with you feeling beautiful that you don’t have a clue why you had been in tears five minutes earlier.

He helps you into your heels too, lifting your feet one at a time by holding your ankle. The action is so gentle that you forget to breathe, even more so when he stretches to his full height once more and cups your face.

“Listen to me,” he says and there’s a certain sternness in his voice. Despite this, he doesn’t sound mean or angry, “I don’t ever want you saying these things about yourself again, okay?”

You nod your head as much as you are able to. A whimper wants to escape your lips but you hold it back.

“You are my wife, mi vida (my life),” he begins, letting his hands smooth over your shoulders and then down your arms until he can hold both of your hands, “I don’t give a shit about what you used to look like, it’s past, it’s not important. Eres tan hermosa (you are so beautiful). Look at the love you pour into our family. You’re the best Momma in the world, patient and kind, and I am in awe of you every day to the point where I can’t stop falling for you in new ways. You make me happy, make it worthwhile to power through at work so I can come home to you and the kids.”

“And you have never looked sexier,” he continues, eyes going down your body to see for himself that he is undoubtedly right. He grabs your hips, rubbing circles with his thumbs, “Your hips, your thighs… You’ve carried my children, for fuck’s sake. Without you, I’m nothing.”

“I mean look at you…” He trails off for a moment, looking down at where his hand is resting on your hip. You cannot help thinking about how warm his strong hand is, radiating comfort throughout your body. He looks lost in his thoughts and licks his lips without thinking.

“Javi,” you say quietly.

“Do you understand?” He asks.

“Yes,” you say almost nervously.

But then suddenly, his arms are around your waist and he is pulling you in for a kiss that makes you forget about the dinner reservation, the insecurities, and the time management altogether. You sling your arms around his neck and give in to his lips on yours, following him wherever he goes as he tugs you away from the mirror and towards the bed.

Before he instructs you to lie down, his hands find the knot on the front of your dress. He undoes it slowly, letting the dress fall open like a satin robe and groaning at the sight of your lack of a bra. He lets his hands go inside the dress, skimming his palms around your waist to pull you close and your head swims from the feeling of his skin on yours.

“Hermosa (beautiful),” he says, hands going up and cupping the underside of your breasts, You smile shyly, looking down to where he is touching you. Warmth has started to burn low in your belly just like before you fell asleep.

With newfound bravery, you reach up to peel the dress off of your shoulders. It falls down to your elbows, exposing your chest and tickling your back, until you let it slip off onto the ground in a pool around your feet. Javier looks like he might need someone to tell him to breathe.

He wraps one arm around your body and reaches behind your thigh with the other to pull your leg up slightly. Allowing him to slip you off your feet, he moves you onto the bed in a swift motion.

You kick off your heels as soon as you can, crawling back towards the headboard and Javier follows you without having to get undressed. After all, he never got any further because he saw you. You feel like you want to giggle with glee at the fact that you still have this effect on him years later.

Instinctively, you bend your legs and plant your feet flat on the mattress and without hesitation, Javier crawls between them to look down at you and marvel at the sight. He looks like a child on Christmas Day, hands reaching out to run up your shins, over your knees, and to grope at your thighs.

“Qué fuerte (unbelievable), are you really my wife?” He muses while rubbing your thighs absentmindedly. You reach for his hands and tug him down to you.

“Sí, mi amor (yes, my love),” you sound drunk on him already, using his own words against him. He is so close to you as he lies on top of you, crushing you so heavenly with his weight.

He kisses you longingly and gently scoops you into his strong arms whilst he does it, holding you flush against himself so you can feel your nipples harden against his chest. When you inhale through your nose to keep the kiss going, his scent fills your nostrils and God, he smells like soap and home.

It takes a minute to move on. You can see how he wants to descend on your body but each time he tries, you want another kiss and he happily indulges you. Like a couple of teenagers, you only stop when both of you have slightly swollen lips and he has a hard-on poking into your thigh.

“Let’s get these off,” Javier crawls back on the bed with elevated breath, fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your panties. He tugs them down your thighs and you help by lifting your ass off the mattress for a moment. His eyes are glued to your soft, fresh-out-of-the-shower and glowing skin, kissing your ankle as he slips your underwear off your feet and throws it to the side.

“You are so fucking hot,” he sounds in awe, “Look at you.”

You cannot stop grinning. Even when he lowers himself down on the bed again and gets comfortable between your thighs.

When he settles, he takes the sight of you in. You can feel your heartbeat in your untouched clit, and it only gets more powerful when Javier looks between your legs as if he is starved. He noses along your knee and then bites your inner thigh, growling under his breath. He moves inwards towards your quivering cunt then finds your eyes just before he dives in, indulges, “Do you know how fucking wet you are for me?”

You do know. It has steadily gotten to the point where you know that when you are going out later, you need to wear a new pair of underwear since the white cotton has probably become see-through and shiny.

And then his mouth is on you and you throw your head back, nearly breaking your neck and letting out a hah-sound as you stare up at the ceiling.

“You’re so good at that,” you moan, letting your eyes fall shut so nothing can distract you from the way his velvety tongue feels between your legs. It is intense to focus on nothing but the way he can guide it over your clit until your toes start to curl, “Oh my God, baby!”

When he kisses your clit and then sucks on it afterward, you lose your mind. Both of your hands come down to rest on the top of his head and when you feel the first flutters of pleasure that tell you that you are getting closer, you cannot keep your hips still. You move underneath his mouth, pushing your pelvis upward occasionally to let him devour you even further.

He eats you until you are seeping arousal into the bedsheets, pussy aching to be filled and stretched in only the way that his cock can. You twitch, clit pulsing, when his mouth leaves you briefly but you know what is to come - other than you, obviously - so you don’t complain. He does it to concentrate on slipping two fingers inside of you, pressing them upwards toward your g-spot before curling them over and over again.

His mouth finds your clit again and he is beyond his usual enthusiasm. The hands on his head stop simply resting there. Instead, you thread your fingers through his hair to channel the way you want to scream into something else because oh, mmhm, oh… oh!

You come on his tongue, shaking like a leaf and with a high-pitched moan that bounces off the walls. Your whole lower body spasms, walls clamping down on Javier’s fingers which still press towards your front wall and make you delirious with pleasure.

“Fuck!” You cry, “Fuckfuckfuck!”

Javier has pushed himself to his knees to watch you. He replaces his tongue on your clit with his thumb, teasing out the very last twitches of your high by going in circles until you need to yank his wrist away from the overstimulation.

After a moment, you begin to giggle. Your hand skims over your forehead, holding it there afterward in an almost soothing manner. Javier is looking at you, having wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and is now trying to decipher whether he can move on to something more or if you need a break.

At no point do either of you think about checking the time.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to me,” you say when you finally get your breath under control. You still feel giggly but instead, it comes out as a soft chuckle as you speak.

“You make it sound like I don’t do this often,” he crawls closer to you again, and you tell him to come here as he enters your arms. He kisses your neck a few times and then looks up at you, “I go down there quite a lot and often, you know.”

“Yes, yes, like a good boy, I know,” you tease him, reaching for his chin to pull him into a soft and lazy kiss. He tastes like you, and you lose yourselves in each other once more until Javier pulls off his briefs with one hand. He discards them without leaving you for too long, throwing them to whatever spot he had aimed your own underwear at.

“Need to have you close,” you voice what you long for, having grown needy from seeing him undress completely. The sight of his beautiful cock is enough to get you fired up again, clenching around nothing, “Please.”

You spread your legs even further and Javier lies between them, reaching down to ease his cock inside of you. He enters you slowly and with a shaky breath, the both of you staring down to watch as he disappears inside of your cunt.

You hold onto his arms, breathing hard and trying to relax as it stings slightly due to his generous girth. The second he bottoms out, you whine feebly as if you have been holding it back and it’s now safe to do so.

“Lo sé (I know),” he soothes.

“You feel so good,” you babble, “I love you.”

“Y yo a ti (I love you too),” he bumps your noses together, looking into your eyes as he moves once and then twice. Your mouth falls open in a gasp and he uses the opportunity to lick into your mouth and kiss you deeply.

You slide your hands underneath his arms to hug him close, letting them go up along his broad back and each ripple of muscle that flexes as he fucks you until you can clutch onto his shoulders. You rock with him, relishing in the smooth motion of his hips moving back and forth to stretch your cunt open again and again.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders until your knuckles start to ache. No matter how many times he is with you like this, it will never be enough. It will never be enough because you need him to be this close and connected to you every goddamn day. It’s like a hardcore drug that clouds your brain, like the oxygen that you breathe in daily, like the food and drink necessary to survive.

Without interrupting him, you move to dig your heels into the back of his legs. With each stroke of his cock inside of you, each roll of his gorgeous hips and pelvis, you can feel the muscles of his calves tightening and relaxing. Your limbs tangling around him allows you to angle him how you want it most, so you mumble something and dig your heels in further.

Suddenly, his pelvic bone crashes against your clit, and it continues doing so until you know that this is how you are going to come a second time.

“Oh, just like that,” you let your head fall back into the mattress, “You’re gonna make me— Javi! You’re gonna make me come, baby.”

“Is this pussy mine? Esta cosita linda (This pretty little thing)?” He asks with a growl, sounding so sexy that you know he is determined to make your orgasm approach even faster because his thrusts speed up.

“Para toda la vida (for life),” you say breathlessly, panting as you near your crescendo. It only takes a few more strokes against your clit and then you are done for, coming a second time with a sharp intake of breath and then a cry that could disturb the neighbors from whatever they are doing.

He kisses each whimper from your mouth and slows down a little to give you space for you to return to him. However, you know that this isn’t the end. His stamina today is mind-boggling but you don’t complain, instead take what he can give you even if it leaves you sore until the next day.

“You okay?” He asks when you have calmed down.

You let your arms and legs fall down to your sides with a blissful expression on your face. You nod, reaching up to rub your eyes as you feel deeply sated, “Just give me a moment.”

“Think you can take anymore?” He pulls out of you to get back onto his knees. You make a noise. On his shoulders, you spot the little crescent marks that your nails have left.

“We’re making babies, right?” You note.

“Claro (of course),” he snorts.

“Then you better screw me silly, Mr. Peña,” you shift slightly on the bed to present your spent cunt for him once more but more obscenely this time by reaching down and spreading your lips open. He groans at the sight, especially when you visibly clench around nothing and silently promise him what’s to come.

“Anything for you, Mrs. Peña,” he almost sounds in pain from the desperation to get back inside of you.

The sweet tenderness and romance are put on hold for something dirtier to take their place, Javier moving forward until the front of his thighs touches the back of yours. He pushes inside of you again with a gasp of your name and places his hands on your hips, holding on tightly so he can pound you into the mattress.

The sound of his skin slamming against yours fills the room along with your moans, and each thrust sends ripples of intense pleasure through your body now that you are so sensitive. You allow yourself the relief of crying out towards the ceiling because, for the next twenty-four hours, you are completely child-free so who cares?

Javier’s eyes burn with desire at your noises. He is so beautiful, mouth hanging slightly open as he pants and his shoulders looking even broader when he hovers above you. And his noises, he is louder than normal too, you realize, with no intention of quieting his moans down either.

A particular snap of his hips sends you reeling as he nudges your g-spot just right and makes you grip at the sheets. Javier is on you like a hawk and notices immediately the way that his cock has severed connection to your brain for a moment.

“You like that? You like my cock?” He digs his thumbs into your hip bones, indulging himself by staring down at where his cock pistons in and out of you. His length is sticky with your arousal, “I can tell you like my cock, God, your come is all over me, baby.”

You bite your lower lip, furrow your brows, and nod repeatedly, “Yes… yesyesyes!”

“You’re on fire today, mi amor (my love), makes me wanna come inside of you like I’m meant to,” he spits filthy words as he goes harder, “Think you can give me one more? Make those gorgeous legs shake?”

The comment about your legs makes you bend them to your chest so you can link your arms under your knees. The position makes Javier swear under his breath, and when you squeeze around your calves, he becomes a tighter fit inside of you and a sob escapes you.

He is the one to look drunk now, fighting the urge to let his eyes roll back into his skull in case he misses anything you do while he drives into your pussy in this new position. He moves his hands to place them on the back of your thighs and contort your body slightly. He digs his fingers into the extra pounds there and then fucks you with your shared pleasure in mind.

The squelch of your cunt is obscene and you almost sound like you’re crying from how he pounds your g-spot. A third high, which started building slowly, approaches so quickly that you squeeze your eyes shut and nearly choke as you scream for him, “Yes, oh my God, yes! I’m—“

“That’s my girl,” he sounds close too, “Get it all over my cock, baby.”

The bliss you feel as you come a third time turns your demeanor from pathetic and whimpering into smiling and giggling instead. You look up at him with hazy eyes while you are grinning, moaning, and coming so hard that Javier cannot stop himself from laughing slightly even if it’s interrupted by his own moans.

“Fuck, you are gorgeous coming for me,” he praises with a shit-eating grin, gasping sharply at reaching his own peak a second later because he just cannot hold back any longer. He pulses inside of you, breeds you until you are filled to the brim, and you can feel some of it spilling out onto the bed sheets.

Exhausted is not the right word. Your whole body slumps when post-orgasmic bliss hits you and you groan as Javier topples down on top of you as well. You melt together and breathe hard, one big tangle of limbs turning you into an octopus.

“Definitely didn’t have time for that,” you say eventually.

“Stop being so hot then,” he jokes. He lifts his head to kiss you longingly and you allow yourself to lose yourself in it, again forgetting about the time that’s ticking by.

As Javier reluctantly tears himself away from you, he casually looks at the clock on the nightstand and gets up so quickly that he needs to find his balance. He seems to realize that you are not just fashionably late but actually really late, “Mierda (shit).”

You check the time too and swear as well. It is twenty minutes to eight, and it takes at least fifteen minutes to drive to the inner city. There’s no way that the two of you are going to make the reservation, and you will just have to hope that they are kind enough to hold onto your table the minutes you are going to be late.

It seems like you turn into the stars of your own romantic comedy, the only thing missing being the laughing track in the background because you move through the house so quickly that you almost forget to put on underwear after getting cleaned up in the bathroom. The rush doesn’t even give you time to ponder your shape in the mirror again.

By the time you actually leave the house, you are laughing at the ridiculousness of it all and looking disheveled. In fact, you have to stop Javier from getting into your car because his buttons are buttoned unevenly and his collar looks like he’s been out in a storm.

“Right, fuck, what’s the time?” Javier asks when he slams the car door on his side.

You look at the car radio’s clock, making a concerned noise, “Hmm… Ten to eight. If you speed a little?”

“I’m law enforcement,” he deadpans.

“You’re also late for a booking you have had for months,” you argue.

Javier pulls out of the driveway but despite it all, he still doesn’t speed with the mother of his children in the car.

However, he does use his badge in the window to get a parking spot close to the restaurant. He pulls it from the glove box and you raise an eyebrow at him, to which he simply tells you to shut up with a tiny glint in his eye.

Your heels click on the sidewalk as you speedwalk towards the restaurant’s main entrance. Javier holds the door open for you, and for a moment, you actually look like a couple who has it all together and is on a date.

Despite this, it seems that impromptu sex is apparently not good for new restaurant businesses, even if it starts out innocently with an intention of comforting one’s partner, because your table has already been given to someone else. You can see Javier’s fist tightening into a ball at his side as he is told this.

The man at the front desk looks unimpressed with your husband’s attempt to make him show you to a table anyway, and you even hear Javier saying that he cannot, in good conscience, let you starve.

You stand a little behind your husband who quietly fumes because nothing seems to work, “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid we’re fully booked tonight and many nights ahead. It is Valentine’s Day after all.”

“Yes, I am aware,” he replies with gritted teeth.

“Honey,” you reach out to put a hand on his arm and he whirls around, only to look a lot more calm the second he finds your gaze, “It’s fine. Come on, we’ll find someplace else.”

“But you’re starving,” he says helplessly.

“Then let’s not keep this up. I know a place around the corner,” you smile at him, holding out your hand until he gives in and takes it, “Besides, they can keep their tiny portions to themselves.”

It may just be the last remains of what you did half an hour ago but Javier starts snickering while you guide him through the door and out into the evening air. He only manages to walk down the street with you for a few yards before he presses you against a brick wall and kisses you.

“No,” you scold him playfully and place your palms on his chest, “I don’t care if you’re Laredo’s local hero. You couldn’t get a table so we’re not wasting time by making out in public. Like you said, I am starving.”

“Descarada (cheeky devil),” he pecks your lips but lets go of you, “Fine, lead the way.”

The two of you start walking. The place you have in mind is only a short walk away and it’s a nice night, so you don’t mind. Especially not when you can walk hand-in-hand with Javier the whole way and not have to say a thing.

You end up in front of a food truck that sells tacos. It is the perfect spot for something low-key which makes your whole night seem even funnier now that you are so overdressed. The two of you snicker together as you wait in line, mostly resembling a couple who have escaped a tedious wedding to get junk food.

“My treat,” he says.

“You better. It’s your fault we’re here,” you tease.

“I think we have different versions of what happened back home,” he winks, “But fine, order whatever you want. Like always.”

You order your food, telling the owner of the food truck to go heavy on the pico de gallo and Javier follows behind with his own order. After paying, you take a step back to let other people buy their food.

“This is where we had our first date,” he notices, an arm around your waist as you wait for your food. He tightens his grip around you as he speaks, “Where I knew I wanted to marry you, have kids with you.”

“This is not where we had our first date,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, looking at him long enough for him to give you a kiss.

“Yes it was,” he replies.

“No, you were drunk and we were heading home from the bar a few blocks from here,” you remind him, “We’d only just met. Connie told me not to follow you.”

“Fuckin’ Connie,” he shakes his head, “No, that was definitely our first date. I don’t care what you say. I just don’t wanna think about the disaster that followed even if you want to call that the first date.”

“You were late and we missed our reservation,” you reminisce, “Just like today.”

“Which is why I am not calling it the first,” he lets go of you as the woman in the truck places your orders on the counter. He hands you yours and then takes his own, “We had food, talked for hours and you were wearing that dress with the bows.”

“No more talk about dresses,” you groan as you walk to find a spot, “You’re making me depressed.”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs with a grin, “I knew then.”

“Well, I knew when Connie told me you were forbidden fruit,” you smile back at him, and there’s something strangely comforting about knowing that he follows right behind.

The food truck's sitting area is right behind it in a cozy nook between two buildings. As disappointed as you were at not getting to try out the new restaurant in town, the picnic tables, and colorful plastic chairs more than make up for it. It is a lot more romantic than what you assume the gourmet restaurant would have been, and you choose a spot right underneath a blanket of string lights that seem to imitate stars.

There are a few guests aside from you, and you feel warm at hearing their voices filled with laughter and joy.

You sit down on the bench and tuck your skirt between your knees, getting comfortable and looking excitedly down at your soon-to-be-devoured food. There’s something uniquely satisfying about a greasy meal after sex, and even more so when your husband indulges you to have whatever you want.

You pick up your taco and bite into it, doing a happy dance as you chew whilst Javier watches you with a grin on his face. However, the happiness is short-lived because something in the taco triggers a wave of nausea and you soon realize that it is the pico de gallo.

“What is it?” Javier has caught on because you cannot help but grimace.

“This tastes funny,” you say. Puzzled, you take another bite but quickly stop yourself before you are stupid enough to go for a third. Your stomach growls but there’s no way you are eating the rest without at least scraping it off.

Carefully, you place the taco back down on its paper tray and take a few napkins from the dispenser on the end of the picnic table. You spit your latest bite out into one of them because your body does not agree with the idea of swallowing the acidity again. Then you take a long sip of your water and wish you had something to neutralize the taste in your mouth.

Without thinking much of it, you start to rid your food of the salsa fresca. You use your index finger to scrape it out onto the napkin and pick any remaining pieces off too, avoiding the natural instinct to suck your finger clean and wipe it on a new napkin instead. In front of you, Javier has stopped eating and simply watches you.

You feel slightly judged by him, narrowing your eyes from annoyance, “What?”

“Are you pregnant?” He asks with a furrowed brow.

“What? No way,” you let out a chuckle of disbelief, “That’s not funny.”

“Honey,” he continues, nodding down at the napkin, “You love pico de gallo.”

“So? The only times I haven’t eaten it has been when I’m pregna—“ your eyes widen, looking down at your taco for a moment before staring at Javier again. He looks just as alarmed by your food which is only two bites down, “There’s no way.”

Around you, people have started to notice a shift in your voice. It probably sounds like you are upset, like Javier is using Valentine’s Day to break up with you.

“Baby, there’s no way,” you say again and your voice has become a little higher pitched, “I’d only be five weeks along.”

To the opposite of you, Javier is speechless. He has stopped eating his own dinner, sitting with his own taco but is unable to figure out how to react.

“We can’t have been lucky the first time around. My period is due in a few days. This is ridiculous. Sebastian is only just about five months old,” you are starting to sound frantic, “Javi. Baby, I am freaking out.”

Javier blinks a few times almost as if he is mentally shaking himself out of his trance. He reaches across the table and takes hold of your wrist, “Calm down. Let’s just finish eating and then we can go get one of those early detection tests, yeah? Te prometo que todo va a salir bien (I promise you that everything is going to be okay).”

“Yes, alright, you’re right,” you feel instantly calmed by his touch, turning your palm upward so he can hold your hand instead. Then you frown, “But I can’t eat this. It’s probably still going to taste like it.”

“Hold on,” he says, letting go of you to switch plates with you without hesitation, “There, now you can eat.”

“Te quiero (I love you),” you sigh happily, smiling at him from across the table.

“Love you too, now eat, so you can feed my kid,” he starts to load the taco with pico de gallo again.

The late-night pharmacy, just opening, exudes a subtle but steady hum of activity, bathing in the fluorescent glow of overhead lights. Shelves are neatly lined with pharmaceuticals, and you scrunch up your nose at the faint scent of antiseptic. Javier keeps a hand on the small of your back the whole time, steering you gently toward the counter as if this new piece of information has made him instantly more protective.

There’s only a single pharmacist behind the counter, a middle-aged woman with her glasses around her neck in a chain, but she doesn’t blink when you explain your sudden emergency. She beckons you down along the aisles and grabs a few different pregnancy tests for you to choose from.

“This one is more certain but it does cost a little extra,” she explains and holds up a Clearblue digital test. Javier quickly exchanges a look with you.

“We’ll take that one, actually make it two,” you say, tapping your feet nervously on the floor, “Can I use the bathroom here?”

“We’re that eager?” She smiles, “Sure, dear. Let me just get the key.”

Javier pays at the counter, a twinkle in his eyes as he makes a joke, “My treat again.”

“You better; you’re the one who got us into this mess - again,” you giggle and it even earns you a chuckle from the pharmacist.

“I hope you get the result you are hoping for,” she says when unlocking the door to the staff toilet. She ushers you both inside the door and then closes it behind you.

Silence at last, you think to yourself and even find that the water you drank with your meal earlier has run right through you. You pull up your skirt, twisting it and tying a knot to keep it from falling down again. You go for your underwear next, bending over to pull them down your legs to your ankles. You feel Javier’s palm steadying you without thinking.

Besides you, Javier starts tearing open the Clearblue boxes. He hands them to you one by one, and you finally sit down to pee, angling your wrist awkwardly to make sure you use the sticks correctly. The both of you stay silent through the whole ordeal.

You wrap both pregnancy tests in toilet paper and hand them to Javier who places them on the edge of the sink so you can finish up and get dressed again. He takes a step to the side to let you wash your hands, having crossed his arms over his chest and started tapping his fingers nervously.

While you listen to the sound of the water running, the air in the tiny, poorly lit bathroom seems to hang thick with anticipation. You want to say something but there is nothing you can say that’ll ease your shared, anxious heartbeat. Eventually, Javier beats you to it.

“Don’t be disappointed if it’s negative,” he gives you an uncertain smile. Mostly, it sounds as if he is talking to himself.

“You know I will be,” you sigh, stepping close to link your arms around his neck. He nods in understanding, cupping your waist and rubbing soothingly with his thumbs.

“Me too,” he lets out a shaky breath.

“I know,” you automatically tighten your grip on him as the minutes go by, knowing that he needs it as much as you. On the sink, the white plastic sticks seem to mock you with their silence.

Come on…

A few minutes more and suddenly, you know there is no way back. It seems ridiculous that a stick with your pee on it has the ability to predict your future but here you are. You shake your head after untangling yourself from your husband, “I can’t look.”

Javier bravely takes them from their place on the sink. Your stomach does somersaults as he unwraps them, twisting them so their displays face upward. A slow, relieved smile spreads across his face and he looks up immediately, “You’re four to five weeks pregnant.”

“What?” You grab his wrist to take a look for yourself, “There’s no way!”

Sure enough, both displays show a positive result and an approximate number of weeks. Calculating in your head, you know it has to be that one time in the middle of the night in January. The thought of getting it right without even really having begun is crazy because it’s so unbelievable.

“That’s so surreal,” you walk straight into his arms. He hugs you tightly, resting his lips on your forehead and you can feel his elevated breathing because you are so close to him.

“Pop is going to have a heart attack,” he mumbles with slight amusement, although you can hear the tremor in his voice. You look into his eyes, reaching up to cup his cheek and smiling softly.

“We can’t tell anyone yet, it’s not been three months,” you say, lost in just staring at him. He is so beautiful when he is happy.

“God, I know, I'm just so excited,” he chuckles, a little embarrassed.

“I’m sure you’ve already figured out that it’s going to be a Halloween baby,” you grin.

“Oh fuck, forget about Pop; Inés is gonna get so pissed if she has to share Halloween with a birthday child,” he starts to laugh after he has said it. You join in, high on the happiness you feel.

“I love you so much,” you say when the laughter dies down.

“I love you too,” he kisses you after saying it.

“And happy Valentine’s Day to us,” you continue, letting Javier pull away to throw the pregnancy tests out and wash his hands.

“See? Now you’re using it right,” he teases after drying his hands.

Then he opens the door and waits for you to step outside. Everything seems possible tonight.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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koinotame · 10 months

Text

your (househusband) roommate, ajax

word count: 1.5K content warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, childe gets called your house husband but you’re not actually married, generally gross stuff (he sniffs your used shirt), it's implied of childe scares away someone else

a/n: this is a repost (slightly edited)! i lost the original post w/ the basic idea but essentially this is a side au of sagau/self aware genshin where the characters (in this case childe) find their way into your world, but in the process you lose all memories about genshin. i'll be reposting all of the series, but it's also on ao3! part two is here!

when you first learned who your roommate would be, you were exasperated. you’d heard about him before, and you were well aware that he's amassed a reputation of being a trouble maker. you had no interest in getting into trouble, especially not during your first year.

...so you were pretty pleasantly surprised when he turned out to be a total sweetheart.

you’re reminded of that when you enter the kitchen, rubbing at your eyes and yawning. the smell of pancakes wafts through the air, and you can’t even get out a small 'good morning' before ajax is grinning at you and sliding you some pancakes. "don’t wait for me and eat up, okay? I put plenty of love into them, so they should taste great."

you ignore his banter (insisting on waiting for him is a lost battle, you’ve learned) and take a bite. you don’t finish chewing before you sleepily nod.

he laughs good-naturedly. "I’m glad, I’m glad. do you want more?" another drowsy nod has him piling most of the remaining pancakes onto your plate.

he continues chatting with you while you eat and he finishes the batch, though he does most of the talking. as usual, he doesn’t seem to mind your silence too much. once he’s done, he turns the fire off and props his elbow on the counter to stare at you. you don't pay him any mind.

he slides the platter to you the second you peek at it. after having eaten well over two servings you’re not really interested in more though, so you shake your head. "I'm full. aren’t you going to eat any?"

he beams. "aww, were you thinking about me? don’t worry, I already ate." you’re almost certain he didn’t. avoiding the judgemental look that crosses your eyes at his response, he laughs in a way that’d be awkward if it was anyone else. "I’ll put the rest in a tupper then, okay? have them whenever."

he’s taking your plate and putting it in the sink before you can even stand to move it to the dishwasher. you sigh and stick out your tongue at him when he turns to you. "you know you really don’t have to go out of your way do all of this."

he smiles at you. "why not? I enjoy cooking, and you can be my taste-tester." the amounts he feeds you go well beyond that, and he's avoiding the rest of your question, but okay. you should've gotten the message—that it's futile to ask him this kind of question—by now.

while you you face plant into the couch to avoid thinking about anything else, ajax stays in the kitchen, cleaning up and humming some lullaby as he washes the pan and plates. it’s too early to think on this saturday morning. the cushion feels nice and soft against your cheek and you can’t help but burrow yourself further into the pillows.

wait.

you lift your head up, peeking your head out behind the back of the couch.

"the apron is cute."

he nearly drops the pan.

it’s not often that you bring over friends, so ajax insists on cleaning beforehand and serving your group snacks much like a mother hen would throughout their stay.

their two, maybe three if you're pushing it, hour stay. all you’re going to is chat, it’s not like they’re going to be staying overnight or anything.

you sigh but let him do what he wants.

some cookies are laid out by the time they arrive, and he’s hovering around pretty much indefinitely to serve tea or juice.

it’s cute, in a way, but your friends’ teasing is not.

"you know, he’s kind of like your house husband, isn’t he?" your friend comments, leaning over and biting into a powdery cookie.

you try to ignore the way ajax beams. you try to ignore the way he cheers to himself even harder.

"not really..." your weak attempts at rebutting their words make your friends laugh.

the rest of the session goes by normally; you talk about the kinds of things you’d regularly talk about with friends. someone in your group recently received a promotion, and somebody else got fired. somebody gained a boyfriend, another realised she didn’t have the time or energy for relationships not too long ago.

the longer the conversation goes on, the more the chatter becomes background noise as the you retreat to your own world. the drink in your hands gets lukewarm long before you finish it despite your frequent sipping.

when they finally leave, you feel more relieved than you should.

you see them off with a smile, but your head is pounding by the time you sit back down and your ears can finally rest. now that you’re (mostly, ajax is always just kind of there) alone, you can finally have some peace and quiet and relax.

or that’s what you think until ajax leans over the couch, head hovering above yours. "now that they’re gone… would you prefer dinner, a bath, or me?"

you stare at him. he doesn’t move, clearly eager for your answer. eventually, you sigh and gently push his face away. "dinner would be nice."

he laughs, something warm and domestic dancing in his cold eyes. "of course! it’ll be ready soon."

he presses a quick kiss to your cheek before leaving.

you whine, but the space he touched feels tingly even against your own hand.

"ajax."

he drops your wallet, not even attempting to take back the couple hundred bills peeking out. his response is nonchalant, even at his supposed surprise at having been caught by you. "ahh, I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon. look at what I found!"

you stare. at him. at what he’s holding. at your wallet on the floor.

you’re certain you did not have that many hundred bills. you’re going to cry if you find him trying to stuff his money into your wallet again.

"you mentioned liking this, right? I was out earlier and I thought I could get it for you. you know, as a sign of goodwill and all, for being such a great roommate."

a couple months ago, you would have been perplexed. he insists on doing all of the chores and most of the cooking, and he pays most of the bills. is the 'great roommate' status because you’re quiet and don’t host loud parties, or…? you don’t question it anymore at this point.

"ajax."

a couple months ago, he might’ve gotten unnerved by your silence. instead, he pushes it into your hands, a wide grin on face, ruffles your hair and saunters out.

you have yet to find his wallet. despite that, all the cash (and then some) that you’d left on his bedside table or bed has always managed to find a way back to your wallet, so there would probably be little point anyway.

"ah, that reminds me!" he peeks back into your room a couple minutes later. "what would you like for dinner?" the nerve of him to ask this right after he calls you a great roommate…

"maybe some soup?" you say instead.

he smiles, bows, and takes his leave. the apron you called cute a few weeks ago is already fixed onto him.

you sigh, sliding the bills in properly.

wait a second. is that a credit card…?

you were expecting many things when you finally caught him, but him sniffing only your shirt—out of all your available laundry—wasn’t one of them.

"…what are you doing?"

you have never seen him jerk his head as quickly, nor have you ever seen him so red. or speechless.

you both stand there in silence for a few seconds before he blinks rapidly and his breathing becomes ragged. "it’s not—I—it’s not what you think, I swear—"

"okay, whatever." you wave him off. somehow, this doesn’t alarm you as much as it should. "I don’t care what you were doing, don’t do it again."

he nods quickly, considerably less composed than he usually is, and shoves your shirt back into the basket briskly. "also… can you stop leaving your stuff in my wardrobe. I know you know the difference."

"ah, that was…" he’s clearly at a loss for words, not sure how to justify himself after having been caught committing not only one transgression, but two.

you set the clothes of his you were bringing to him down, tempted to just throw them at him.

you swallow your nerves, almost nervously meeting his eyes. "look, I don’t really care, but can you at least leave me stuff like your jacket or sweater? your shirts aren’t really my style."

his breathing hitches again but he gives no response otherwise, so you shake your head and turn to leave. the laundromat room is thankfully empty save for the two of you, something you’re glad for.

as you pass through the door, it occurs to you that the guy who’d been smoking in here hasn’t shown up in a while. now that you think about it, that was the reason ajax had offered to take over laundry duty too...

oh well, it’s of no concern to you, you think to yourself as you make the journey back to your room.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #self aware au #self aware genshin #childe #tartaglia #repost #i think that's all the tags i used last time #HOW DID THE EDITOR GET WORSE IN MY ABSENCE...

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suosteacup · 1 month

Text

Pancakes ~redux~

pairing: Kozume Kenma x gn!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 0.8k

tw/cw: post-timeskip, food, Kenma and reader are newlyweds here, one swear word from Kenma, kitten as a term of endearment from Kenma to you.

a/n: a rehashed version of an old Kenma drabble I wrote on @/mrskodzuken. Thank you Mari @littleplantfreak for betareading this AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ilysfm 😘 Star dividers by @cafekitsune + support banner by @adornedwithlight 🫶🏻 tagging @pixelcafe-network

The whole house is quiet on an early Sunday morning, save for some tapping and cracking sounds coming from inside the kitchen. A soft plop! can also be heard as Kenma carefully discards a stray egg shell away from the pancake batter mix using a spoon. He then slowly pours fresh milk into a liquid measuring cup until it reaches the desired level, before carefully adding it to the mixture. Next, he picks a measuring spoon nearby, unscrews the cap off a bottle of vegetable oil, and adds two tablespoons of it into the batter.

It’s unusual for Kozume Kenma to wake up early in the morning, much less cook breakfast, but today is very special; the reason why he woke up earlier today is to make you breakfast in bed—after a month of saying “I do’s” to each other, to make your favorite kiwi fruit pancakes with love.

He remembers something you’d said almost a year ago, while having a friendly date at a cafe just beside Kuro’s office one early morning…

“You know, Kenken? When I get married, I’ll ask my husband-to-be to make me pancakes like this one day,” you say to Kenma as you take an IG-worthy photo of a plate of kiwi fruit pancakes drizzled—no, heavily soaked—in maple syrup on your phone.

“Ehhh… really? Well, good luck to him, I guess.” He looks at you with a shit-faced grin plastered on his face. “That ‘one day’ is going to turn into ‘one week’, ‘one month’, and so on—ow!”

“Zip it, Puddinghead. As if I would force him to make pancakes everyday, you know?” you tell Kenma poutily, waving a forkful of pancake in front of his face before stuffing it up to your mouth. “I’m not that cruel~”

He sighs in defeat and smiles sheepishly before taking a sip of his latte.

“Okay, okay, if you say so…”

After slightly mixing the batter, Kenma adds the minced kiwi fruit that he prepared earlier and whisks it in until fully mixed. He then proceeds to dip a ladleful of the batter into the preheated pan, quickly shaping some of the corners with a clean toothpick to resemble cat ears before the bottom side completely cooks.

“Cute,” he chuckles softly, looking proud of his ‘artwork’.

“It sure is…”

Kenma suddenly jumps from where he’s standing, his golden cat-like orbs widening. He slowly turns his head around to see you peeking over his shoulder, sleep still evident on your face.

Your husband holds his breath in for a second before letting it go as butterflies start fluttering inside his stomach. “H-hi, Y/N, my love. Morning.” Fuck. Kenma internally slaps his mouth after messing up his greeting.

“Hi, Kenma, my love… g’morning~” Kenma feels your arms snaking around his waist as you snuggle closer to him from behind. He notices you looking at what’s into the pan and—Kenma finds this adorably endearing—your eyes twinkle as they widen a bit, sleepiness a thing of the past.

“Pancakes! And they’re cat-shaped, too!”

He hums and smiles, slightly checking the bottom side for any signs of browning before flipping the cooked side of the pancake with a spatula. Bringing his free hand to gently pat your head, he says in a matter-of-fact voice, “Did I also mention that they’re kiwi fruit pancakes?”

“Huh? Kiwi… fruit?”

Kenma feels your embrace around his waist getting a bit tighter. His cheeks gradually heat up as he silently continues on making another pancake, with you still hugging him.

He finally speaks in a soft voice. “Um… y-yeah. Because you told me to make one for you when we get married one day…”

“Oh. That conversation we had at the cafe that time…” You smile, both of you fondly remembering the memory.

“Yeah.”

Kenma silently cooks the remaining pancakes, the only sound heard in the kitchen is the slight sizzle of the pancake batter cooking. He feels your weight shifting from behind, strands of your hair tickling the side of his neck. He wonders if you can still feel his heart beating loudly just as he can feel yours.

“Y/N, kitten? Still sleepy? I’m almost done here, you should sit down and wait for me. Then we can eat breakfast together—“

A sniffle. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He then glances at your small form in alarm before quickly turning your attention back to the last piece of pancake, bringing the pan to a big plate sitting nearby before tilting it down, the cooked pancake sliding off and on top of the stack. Kenma turns off the stove. “Y/N… are, are you crying?”

You snuggle closer behind your husband again in reply—Kenma can feel a slight wetness forming at the back of his shirt, accompanied by a few sniffles and chuckles.

“Thank you for remembering. Thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for loving me, all my flaws and strong points. Thank you for marrying me. My bestest friend in the entire universe. My love. My everything… I love you, Kenma.”

Kenma holds your hand and kisses it softly, smiling. “I love you too, my Y/N.”

And he really loves you back. More than everything in the world.

#kozume kenma #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #kozume kenma fluff #kenma fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma x y/n #kitty☆writes

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holdinbacksecrets · 2 months

Note

svt finds out you were married before you met them

anon… this request is golden. thank you so much for sending it! i had the best time writing these 🤍

seventeen find out you were married before being with them

seungcheol: he’s at the bodega around the corner because you’re out of… he forgot the excuse. luckily, it was mumbled and difficult to make out, so he’ll bring back coffee. his palms are sweating and he looks up at the ceiling as if the answer’s in between the popcorn. now, you’re his. he’s yours. you’re one. but you were someone else’s, and that idea isn’t new to him, but knowing that someone was your husband makes it feel different. he looks up again. “please give me something here.” a light flickers. he leaves without the coffee

jeonghan: he stops to watch you spoon strawberry jam onto slices of toast. they’re golden brown triangles beside scrambled eggs, and you’re making sure the bright red covers the golden brown surface perfectly, just like you always do. the only red he can think about is the blood his heart is pumping, and the fact that his heart stopped pumping for a moment or two

joshua: “now everything makes sense.” “what do you mean?” “sometimes you’re just too good at being my partner.” “that has nothing to do with being married before. i’m literally just in love and obsessed with you. actually, being married did make me strict about the dishes. i’ll never go to bed with a pile in the sink.” “baby, you won’t go to bed if there’s a spoon in the sink or a crumb on the countertop.” “and how good does it feel to wake up and see a clean kitchen, hmm?”

jun: he’s confused. he’s wearing it, swallowing it, holding it in his gaze, and suddenly wondering how well he knows you— why it took you so long to tell him

soonyoung: “i knew it was a mistake by the next morning. i woke up craving my mom’s pancakes.” “have her send us the recipe.” you squeeze his hand and bow your head so your lips can brush its palm. “don’t worry, history won’t repeat itself.”

wonwoo: the photo album’s on his lap. it feels like a fever dream to look at you. you watch the sky through the window, craving color after too much black and white. “i’m mad at myself.” “why?” “i should’ve waited for you.”

jihoon: the ring came rolling out of its hiding spot and stopped in the middle of your bedroom floor. the sunlight caught it. he blinked a million times, felt his lips part too. you let it be. you exhaled, feeling relieved to part with the secret. finally

seokmin: “look at me. do i look upset?” “no… you eyes are all shiny” like he might cry. “it means a lot that you told me.” “i shouldn’t have waited so long.” “you really didn’t wait that long.” “are you sure you’re ok? do you… am i…” “yes.”

mingyu: the words come out on a sunday morning in the park near your place. your head’s on his shoulder. his hand’s on your thigh; it’s warm and the slightest bit rough—different from the cool, soft breeze on your cheek, on the back of your neck. he asks about your happiness and when it left the space you created with your ex. he wants to know what he can do to make sure that never happens again. he wants to make sure he’s not missing anything

minghao: he’s watching you. there’s gentle love in his eyes. he’s hoping you’ll look up and away from the sudsy dishes for just a moment long enough to realize he’s not mad. to realize it doesn’t change anything

seungkwan: he wonders about your wedding dress and if you still have it. he wonders about pictures and videos and the expression on your face at the altar. moments he’s dreamed about are already existing in memories, have already been seen by your loved ones, might be sour in your head. would you do it all again? do you even want to?

vernon: “i can’t help but wonder how many people make the same mistake as me… think something’s love when it’s not.” “do you really think of it as a mistake?” “pretty sure that’s just a fact.” “i’m not so sure… aren’t you the same person who’s told me for years that everything happens for a reason?” “maybe i just tell myself that to lessen the blow.” “possibly, but maybe it’s true. maybe that step that you think was in the wrong direction was crucial. i wouldn’t have found you any other way.”

chan: “i feel like i shouldn’t be looking at this… it’s like i’m seeing your dress before i’m supposed to. i shouldn’t know what you’ll look like walking down the aisle.” “this isn’t who i am anymore. think of how much time has passed. i have brand new skin now.” “…i thought you were going to say something romantic.”

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jxckchxmpi0n · 1 year

Text

HEADCANNON DATES W/ JACK CHAMPION

I'm currently going crazy as I have three weeks until I graduate- anyways this is my little delu-lu moment where I break from reality and think about dating jack 🧎‍♀️

Did not proof read || m.list

Dating JACK CHAMPION is the most fun you'll ever have. There are so many little dates in there different towns he's filming in.

He'd take you to the zoo, the aquarium. "Baby, we have to see the otters!" He jumps around like a little kid.

There would be many dates at your shared apartment as well.

Building Legos. "Baby, look, I bought us a new Lego set. Wanna watch Marvel movies and build it?"

Or you would be studying for your college classes when he storms into your shared room. "Baby, do you wanna try making this tiktok pasta with me?"

Your favorite thing is making forts in the living room and gathering snacks around the TV and having a marathon.

"Jack, we should watch all the scram movies before we go to the premiere next weekend" you know for a fact that even if you watch them all tonight hell be watching them again throughout the week.

Sometimes, when you need to run errands, he'll join you just to be with you. "Hey baby, I have to go run out for a while. I should be back in a little"

He gives you puppy eyes as he pulls his headset off. "Can I go with?" Seeing him with his bed head and pj's makes you giggle. "Of course," he then jumps up and kisses you, running to take a super quick shower.

Waking up to the smell of breakfast filling your nose, the sun light filling the room.

Jack comes in with a tray of pancakes and fruit for both you and him. You then both cuddle in bed as your eat food.

When he's been gone for months for filming and you'll be on tikok while on the phone giggling. "Why are you giggling? I didn't even say anything. " You giggle more and just tell him to check his phone. He then sees three notifications from you and sees that you sent him edits of him. "Baby." His voice is a little high-pitched as he is very flattered.

You both decide to go out for lunch as it's a nice day, ditching the car and walking downtown to a small cafe. Holding hands and sharing airpods, there's no need to talk. Sometimes being with each other is all you need

FaceTime dates as he is in a different state filming. He doesn't care. Even if he's around people, he will show his love for you every second he gets. "Mason, look y/n, and I our on a date!" He flips the camera to Mason as their hair and makeup get touched up.

Excited about avatar coming out the idea of dressing up and hiding in a theater to see others' reactions.

Sitting next to a few pre teens and hearing their reactions warm both of your hearts. But also watching Jack as he gets into the movie himself as if he isn't in it.

You wanted to try something new, so you thought about making cookies. He would sit on the counter watching you with so much love in his eyes. "What?" You notice him looking at you getting insecure all of a sudden. He jumps off, his hand goes to your cheek, "You have flour on your face." You chuckled at his actions. "God, you are so pretty"

Face masks!!!! The best part is it's him trying to convince you. But you secretly act like you don't wanna do it, so it makes him wanna do it more. You both wear big headbands, and you sit on his lap as he paints it on your face. And vice-versa, his hands lay on your hips as he has his head tilted up looked at you through his lashes.

It's a sunny day, and you decide to clean the apartment playing music, and of course, Jack being himself, he ends up taking over the music playing different songs to dance to. Then you both end up dancing in the living room.

Jack has to give Butters a bath, and as much as he loved butters, it's a lot of work, so you join and end up joking, saying you guys are married and butter is your first born. Then, half way through washing butters, you have a fake fight, then die laughing on the bathroom floor.

#ethan landry #jack champion #scream vi #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ghost face x reader #jack champion imagine #jack champion x reader #spider avatar #jack champion fanfic #jack champion fluff

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peaches-creek · 9 months

Text

Jason never, in a million years, thought he would want children, but here he was. You both were sitting in the waiting room of your OBGYN waiting to find out the gender of your baby, his baby. When you had told him that you thought that you were pregnant, an ache settled in his chest. He wasn’t upset or had any regrets, this wasn’t planned but you had been married for 3 years now, its not like he was planning on it just being the two of you for the rest of your lives. He was just worried. About the usual things a new parent should be worried about. Like the general health of the mother and the baby, if they were going to be prepared enough, and if he was going to be a good father. Which are all normal worries to have. But the reason they are different is because we are talking about Jason. Jason will worry himself to death over stuff like this, especially when it involves you.

“Mrs. Todd?” The nurse calls. Everything after that was a blur to Jason, who was riddled with anxiety. He notices them asking you all the questions that they typically ask at these types of appointments. He notices the way you smile, it relives him, only a little. The last thing he notices is them handing you a gown to wear so they can complete the rest of your appointment.

“Jason you haven’t said anything, are you alright?” You sweetly coax him out of his own head.

“Yea, I’m alright just,” he pauses, finding the right words, “just nervous, about the baby.”

“I know you are, and that’s normal. You are right to feel nervous, but I’m okay, the baby is okay, you are okay.” You assure.

“I understand all of that, but I’m mostly worried about me.” He says. You raise an eyebrow.

“Not like that, i am very worried about you,” he starts, “I’m just worried that I’m not gonna be a good dad, that m’gonna mess stuff up.”

“I’m not worried about anything like that at all, especially when it comes to you.” You say.

“You’re not?” He questions.

“Why would I? I have seen the way you are with Mar’i, the way you are with Damian. I’ve seen the way you are with people.” You persuade. You know he’s not in agreement.

“Jason, if you think for a second that you aren’t a good person, your pregnant wife is going to choke you out. She’s also gonna choke you out if you don’t help her get into this gown.”

“Oh right.” He stands, jumping to his feet to help you.

You don’t understand why he’s so harsh on himself, he has been nothing but attentive since you guys found out about the baby. You’ve barely lifted a finger in weeks. He has held your hair back while you threw up the delicious pancakes he made for you every morning. He just about ran to the store every time you had a craving. He made sure you were as comfortable as humanly possible. You wish he saw himself the way you did.

Once your gown was on right, he helped you back onto the table. Your small bump barely visible through the thick fabric. He can’t help but place a hand on it.

“So small.” He says.

“Yes, very small,” you say as you place your hand on his, “not for much longer.”

“True.” Is all he says.

The doctor knocks on the door, then enters. Everything after that became a blur again, Jason is absolutely vibrating with anxiety, and excitement. He has been excited about this, how can he not? Whenever he imagines your child, he sees a child with his black hair, your nose, his smile, and god, he hopes they have your eyes. He envisions their beautiful face and can’t help but smile. He has always wondered about that, ever since he realized he loved you.

When he sees the doctor lift your gown, that’s when he taps back in, holding your hand firmly so that you know he’s there, aware and with you. You turn to him and smile, a smile that always throws his worries out the window, and it does exactly that. The doctor puts the gel on your stomach and waves the wand around, chatting to you about how you’ve been feeling.

“How would you guys like to know the gender today?” She asks.

You turn to him, smiling.

“You ready?”

“Of course.”

She waves the wand around a few more times, pressing into the side of your stomach.

“Well would you look at that, a beautiful baby girl.” She smiles.

Jason’s head snaps to yours, just as yours had. He begins to chuckle, his eyes getting all watery, just as yours did.

“A girl.” Is a Jason says.

“Our Girl.”

As you finish up at the doctors, you can’t help but admire him, his face went from crisis to wonder. You can only imagine the thoughts running through his head. You usurp to ask the same question, but in a place of worry. You knew he was so hard on himself and you knew there was only so much reassurance you could give him.

He helps you back into his truck, when you finally were done asking questions, though they were all necessary, it did take up some time.

“Wanna get Chinese take-out?” He asks, reading your mind.

“You know the answer to that.”

As you pull your phone out to call in your order, he starts to think. He thinks back on your conversation earlier, finally trying to convince himself that he will be a good father to his kid - his daughter.

He thinks of Mar’i, his niece. He remembers when she was about 5 months old, her babysitter canceled last minute, and he had about 15 IOU’s from Dick, so he was the last minute babysitter. He remembers Kori showing him how to change diapers on the fly, showing him how to bottle feed, and then promptly left. He remembers being so scared at first, holding this tiny little breakable thing, but after the first hour? He was fine, he even read to a few chapters of Little Women to her. Sure, her diapers were the most record breaking shits he has ever seen, but it’s nothing he can’t manage.

He thinks of Damian next, the little shit. He remembers when he first met him, the kid tried to stab him. But after a while, he started to figure Damian out, like the games he likes, his hobbies, weaknesses. He remembers finding a three-legged kitten in an alley one day, and immediately knew who would take good care of the little fellow. He fondly thinks back at the face on Damian when he pulled the fur-ball out of his jacket.

He remembers the little girl he saved a few weeks back, how she clung on to him. He gave her words or reassurance, telling her that he’s bringing ear her to her mommy right now, and that she’s okay.

So, Jason determines, that once again you are right. He will be a good Dad. It doesn’t do any good to be so worried about something that may or may not happen.

“Y’know honey?” He says.

“What?”

“You’re right. Everything will be okay.”

“I’m so glad you think so Jay.”

It’s silent for a minute. A sweet silence of two parents who got good news.

“Who should we tell first?” He asks.

“I say Damian, he owes me 15 bucks.”

“Roy owes me 50.” He chuckles.

#jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanon #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd #jason todd fanfic

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finleycannotdraw · 1 year

Note

Goldenheart question. Who do you think proposes? Ballister or Ambrosius?

Bonus on how they would do it? ✌️🌈

OKAY SO. I thought about this for like five minutes. decided something. and then I changed my mind like five times. and then I was like “hmm. fic time”

I know you just asked for my thoughts but I hope you enjoy this!!

Ballister had a plan.

He loved Ambrosius. Of course he did. He’d loved him when they were classmates at the Institute, loved him when they snuck onto the roof at night to talk, loved him when they became knights, and loved him when the wall came down. He’d loved him for as long as he could remember, so of course he loved him when he looked up from his crossword puzzle and saw Ambrosius dancing in the kitchen, wearing a pair of Ballister’s pajama pants, holding a pancake batter-covered spatula and looking more carefree than he’d looked in months.

He’d marry Ambrosius in a heartbeat. He’d get on a train right then and elope with him if he asked, but he thought his partner deserved something bigger, something romantic, something grand and joyful after all of the stress and responsibility he’d been shouldering since the Director’s demise.

Hence, The Plan.

Nimona had been… mostly helpful. Ballister approached her one afternoon, after Ambrosius had left for work, and sat down across from her. Since the three of them had moved into an apartment together, Nimona had gotten much more comfortable relaxing, which warmed Ballister’s heart.

“What’s up, boss?”

“I want to ask Ambrosius—” he began, and Nimona sat up straight, immediately invested.

“To marry you?” she exclaimed. “Yes. Do it. Why haven’t you done it already.”

Ballister blinked. “I thought you’d be more hesitant about this,” he said slowly. “You used to hate him.”

Nimona waved her hand dismissively. “Ehhh. The past is the past, and all that jazz. Speaking of jazz—”

“No.”

“Ugh, whatever. You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I didn’t need to.”

“You’re horrible. Anyway, I hated him when all I knew about him was that he cut off your arm. That was before I’d lived with you guys for a year. And it would be pretty hypocritical of me not to be open to changing my opinions about somebody. He makes you happy. You should totally marry him.”

Ballister smiled. “Thank you, Nimona.”

She scoffed affectionately. “Sure, boss.”

And a plan—namely, The Plan, which was the whole point—formed.

Nimona and Ballister flew all over the city looking for parks and possible activities, such as restaurants or shows. Most people had gotten fairly used to the pair of them flying around, Nimona sprouting wings and carrying Ballister above the streets, so they didn’t worry about staying out of sight.

If Ambrosius noticed or thought it was suspicious that Nimona and Ballister constantly went out together and didn’t talk to him about any of it, he didn’t comment. The three of them still had their movie nights and game nights, and Nimona and Ambrosius still had their terrifyingly intense card games (War, Go Fish, Crazy Eights, and several games Ballister had never heard of) that Ballister was forbidden from joining, so altogether not much had changed.

One thing that did change, though, was how often he paused, watched Ambrosius do something completely ordinary, and thought ‘I want to marry this man.’ It happened more and more with each passing day, until Ballister very nearly proposed to him when he walked into the apartment and found Ambrosius standing with his feet on two separate chairs, about three feet apart, holding a collection of colorful paper streamers above his head while Nimona, in the form of a small monkey, perched on the top of his head and put them in place on the wall.

Ballister stared at them for a long moment before he said, very confusedly: “There wasn’t a more efficient way to do this?”

Ambrosius and Nimona turned at the same time, both looking quite delighted despite their precarious position atop the chairs.

“We’re just mixing it up!” they both replied. Ballister looked around. The living room was covered in party decorations and newspaper, and Ballister thought he’d never seen more glitter in his life. He pictured Ambrosius buying a basket full of glitter for whatever party Nimona was planning on throwing, and wouldn’t have been surprised if his heart actually melted.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked.

“I asked Nimona when her birthday was,” Ambrosius explained. “She said she didn’t have one.”

“And if I do, I don’t remember when it is,” Nimona added. Ambrosius threw his hands out to the sides in an emphasizing gesture.

“Which means she’s never had a birthday party,” he continued. “So we decided that today’s her birthday and we’re having a party.”

“Which is just going to be like a normal night except with decorations,” Nimona said. “The glitter was Goldilocks’ idea.”

Ballister raised his eyebrows, and Ambrosius shrugged unabashedly, then turned back to finish putting up the streamers.

Marry me, Ballister thought.

Within the next week, he had everything figured out. He’d looked at the weather for the next few days, planned where they’d go and when, and had even bought a ring, which he’d hidden in his extra pair of running shoes and shoved under the bed. If Ambrosius noticed that Ballister seemed extra nervous or more likely to become agitated if he spent too long in the bedroom by himself, he didn’t comment.

So yes. Ballister had a plan, and it was much more concrete than ‘something something something, we win’. He didn’t have a script, but he had just about everything else. Nothing could possibly get in his way now.

Or so he thought.

One night—there was nothing particularly special about it; they’d had dinner with Nimona, danced and laughed while cleaning the kitchen, and kissed while getting ready for bed—Ballister and Ambrosius were snuggled up together under their blankets. Ballister’s prosthetic arm was hanging from its charger on the wall, so he couldn’t hold Ambrosius as close as he would’ve liked, but the blond knight was lying with his head on Ballister’s shoulder, which gave him room to wrap his left arm around his partner’s back.

Ambrosius moved to tangle his legs with Ballister’s and gave his middle a squeeze, causing Ballister to smile up at the dark ceiling. If he paid attention, he could hear quiet music through the walls from Nimona’s room, and the moon was shining brightly through the window. Ballister carded his fingers through Ambrosius’ hair and breathed deeply.

Ambrosius, after several minutes, pushed himself up onto his elbow so that he could see Ballister’s face. Ballister’s arm slid naturally to rest around his waist, and he wished he had his prosthetic so that he could tap Ambrosius on the nose. Whenever he did so, Ambrosius’ face would scrunch up in the most adorable way possible, and Ballister had no choice but to kiss him.

“Hey,” Ambrosius whispered, as though Ballister hadn’t already been giving him his full attention.

“Hi,” he said in the same quiet tone, and matched Ambrosius’ answering smile. They bumped their noses together and giggled, and Ambrosius flopped to the side, landing on his own pillow. Ballister freed his arm and laced their fingers together, and Ambrosius brought their joined hands to his lips, then rested them on his chest and stroked Ballister’s hand with his thumb.

“Bal?” he said, tilting his head to the side to look into Ballister’s eyes, which he was quite honestly struggling to keep open.

“Hm?”

“Will you marry me?” Ambrosius asked softly, simply, his gaze full of love, exactly the way Ballister had been fighting the urge to ask him for weeks.

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed, and got out of bed to grab the ring box from his shoe, forgetting that Ambrosius had no idea what he was doing until he sat up, looking worried.

“Bal?” he said again, this time much more guarded. “I’m sorry, what—”

“I was going to propose to you!” Ballister interrupted, opened the box, and shoved it towards his gobsmacked partner, who stared at it in utter shock before looking back to Ballister’s eyes. “I had a plan! And it wasn’t ‘something something something, we win’!”

Ambrosius’ eyes were shiny. “Was it more like, ‘something something something, marry me?’”

Ballister laughed surprisedly and leaned over to plant a kiss on Ambrosius’ lips. “Yes,” he said. “Well, no. I didn’t have a speech.”

“Hence the something-something-something,” Ambrosius teased. “You know, you never answered my—”

“Yes, good Gloreth, yes, I’ll marry you,” Ballister interrupted again. “Though I think you could’ve inferred that from learning that I was going to ask you the same question.”

Ambrosius laughed tearfully, and Ballister kissed him again.

“I’m not taking your last name, though,” he added moments later. “As funny as it is.”

“Nimona would kill you,” Ambrosius agreed. “So would I, probably. I don’t want to keep my last name either. It made for some good jokes, but other than that—”

“Well, Boldheart is nice, but it wasn’t my birth name. You know the Queen gave it to me at the ceremony because somebody—probably the Director—said that Blackheart sounded too dark for a knight?”

“Right,” Ambrosius mused. “What should we do, then?”

“We could combine our last names,” Ballister suggested. “We could be Ambrosius and Ballister—”

“Goldenheart,” Ambrosius finished, and wrapped his arms around Ballister, shaking with laughter, tears, and joy. “I love it.”

“I love you,” Ballister told him, and there was very little talking for the rest of the night.

When morning came, they headed into the kitchen in their pajamas and found Nimona already up, sitting at the table with her headphones on. She appeared to be drawing—likely another action scene with herself as a large animal with Ballister and/or Ambrosius as her murderous accomplice—and didn’t look up as they entered.

“Morning, Nim,” Ambrosius said as he made his way to the coffee machine.

“Goldilocks.” She acknowledged him with a nod, then raised her eyebrows. “Sleep well?”

Ballister held his crossword puzzle up and hid his face behind it while Ambrosius nearly dropped the coffee pot. They both knew that Nimona was over a thousand years old and there was probably very little she hadn’t seen, and even less she wasn’t aware of, but she was so good at acting like a teenager that it was quite easy to forget. She watched their awkward reactions and snickered, but her eyes widened as her attention zeroed in on something on or beside Ambrosius’ hand.

“So, who snapped first?” she asked pleasantly, a wide grin forming on her face.

“Me,” Ambrosius admitted without turning around. “Wait. Who snapped first? You knew he was planning—”

“You knew he was—” Ballister began too, and they both stopped and stared at each other.

Nimona just burst out laughing.

#nimona #nimona movie #nimona netflix #nimona 2023 #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart #nimona fanfic #this is. not betaed and barely proofread. enjoy #I HOPE I CHARACTERIZED THEM RIGHT #ALSO IN MY POST CANON UNIVERSE THEY ALL HANG OUT IN THE TOWER/LAIR FOR A WHILE AND THEN GET AN APARTMENT #ITS A WHILE BEFORE NIMONA CALLS EITHER OF THEM DAD #nimona and ambrosius playing hyper-competitive but ridiculous card games without ballister is a hill I will die on #he thinks they’re going to become enemies for real but the card game animosity just makes their friendship stronger everywhere else #ALSO goldenheart is their ship name but it’s a PERFECT combined last name for when they get married <3

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jensensitive · 3 months

Text

It's not always an easy thing to make breakfast in the morning when there's so many people around. Jostling for what exactly everyone's individual tastes are wanting that morning, or not wanting, or just how much coffee is left, or where the tea went, or who did the dishes last night and why there's stuff on your favorite mug. It's good though, he likes it. It feels right, having his family so close to bug him. He doesn't really like peace and quiet as much as he does the people he loves making themselves known in his life and routine. And the smell of coffee and feeling like it's a new day worth waking up for because everyone's there and alive. Right now it's just him and Sam in the kitchen, but your little brother being annoying is all just a part of it.

"You're like a middle aged divorced guy obsessed with his car, but without the excuse of ever actually having been married."

"Who wouldn't be obsessed with my Baby, she's hot as hell."

"She's never gonna love you back, Dean."

"Hey, that's not nice, I treat my girl right. Take her out on the town. Just last night, she and I went for a nice long drive, real romantic like."

Sam snorts.

Mary walks into the kitchen.

"Hey, mom, there's coffee if you want some. I'm doing pancakes, whether Sam wants 'em or not, you up for pancakes?"

"Always. I'm not gonna say no to pancakes."

"See, that's the right answer, Sam."

"Whatever, I just don't wanna throw up in the middle of my run."

"Seems like there's an easy solution to that where you still get pancakes," Dean quips.

Mary makes herself a cup of coffee at the kitched counter and grabs the milk beside Dean to put some in her mug.

Dean turns back from flipping the pancakes to look back at Sam. "Are you just bugging me about this because you've finally got a girlfriend so now you've got some kind of leg to stand on in how much of a loser I am?"

"Oh, I always had that leg to stand on."

"Sam." Mary chides.

"Sorry, Mom, I'm just messing around."

Dean smiles at Sam getting talked to. "He's just jealous of me and my girl and our long and loving commitment."

"Yeah, real jealous." Sam rolls his eyes. Dean is drinking his coffee, but he knows Sam is rolling his eyes.

"I took her out last night. " Dean offers a low whistle. "You should have seen her, man. Making heads turn left and right, she's still got it."

"Yes, she's so pretty, she's so hot, she's so stunningly blah blah blah, you understand how weird you sound, right?"

Mary smiles. "I think it's sweet. He really likes her. What did you guys do together last night."

Sam groans. "Not you too, come on."

"Took her out for a nice dive-in dinner, curly fires and a burger, with the tray that clips to the window of course, only the best for my girl."

"How romantic." Sam deadpans.

"Then we went for a nice long drive, just us and some Zeppelin, yknow. You gotta have some quality time."

Mary nods. "Your father and I used to do something very similar," Mary answers with a gleam in her eye.

"Yeah, see she gets it." Dean gestures from Sam to Mary.

"It's weird, you both are weird and I'm not participating in your perverse afflictions."

"Zeppelin never sounds better than on my Baby's tape deck."

"Yeah we know you really love a big deck." Sam snorts at himself.

"Yeah whatever." It's Dean's turn to roll his eyes.

Mary turns to him. "So what's her name, when am I gonna meet her?"

Sam starts coughing somewhere in the background.

Dean is just lost. "Huh? Who?"

"Your girlfriend. No pressure or anything, but I'd love to meet her, see who's stolen my son's heart."

Sam barks out a laugh. Dean just blinks. "Huh?"

"She thinks you were talking about an actual human woman, you weirdo." Sam spells out like he's a complete idiot. He might feel his ears turning bright red at the realisation.

"Oh," he chuckles awkwardly. "No, no woman."

"No, he doesn't date actual women anymore, only personified objects that he gives female pronouns."

"Dude, shut up, it's not that weird."

"He was talking about his car."

He should just say it. "Actually." Why shouldn't he just say what he's thinking. "Well, it wasn't just me and Baby, we might have drug Cas along, heh." He huffs at himself awkwardly. " I mean why would I need a girlfriend, I have Cas," he says it like he's joking, so he is. "And my Baby. What more could I want than that."

Sam just sighs deeply like he does when he doesn't think one of Dean's jokes is funny. Well, to be fair, it wasn't.

Mary just lays a hand on his on the counter. "You sound like you're happy." She smiles at him. "And I've already met Cas and Baby, so you don't even need to introduce me."

Sam is just shaking his head as if they're still joking, but Mary is looking at him, and actually seeing what he's saying. And he has to give her hug and try not to cry. "Thanks, mom."

#my fic #ficlet

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shotokimchi · 2 years

Text

When Their S/O Is a Seggs God

MINORS DNI

How would they react if their cute lover was like a succubus in bed LMAO Going through some hard stuff so wanted to drop this here to laugh a little JSDFHSDK-

A/N:Sorry for being inactive y'all i swear I'm not ignoring the requests, just preparing for an important exam this year, but I'll be back around Julyyyy

Little side note: Characters are aged up so don't come at me smh

part2 w/Dabi and Midoriya

Bakugo

So we all know that this man doesn't sleep around randomly. My guy dates the "one" for him he's planning to marry you so if you aren't planning about settling down...

Too bad for you missy (Lemme see your ring finger bitch you gonna get wifed up💍)

After taking you out to meet his parents, this chili oil literally falls in love with you (i mean he already did but when he saw how you treated his momma and papa- boy was CHOKING ON HIS HEART❤️) so he decides to take your relationship to the next level.

Needs and excuse to leave early so literally tells his parents that he has a bad case of diarrhea ( Do ya'll know that video LMAO) and drags you out to his car

Lemme tell you he ran over at least 5 red lights just to have sex with you-

And you are just confused about why he's suddenly acting like a rabid dog i mean he's always acting like one but this time-

"Suki, why is your mouth foaming?"

On the way to your apartment, you had an inner conflict about actually taking him to a vet, you aint planning on telling him that tho.

After finally throwing you onto the shared bed like a sack of flour mf flies for a second in the air like a bloodthirsty mosquito- (the only difference is he's thirsty for the ✨All-mighty pussy juice✨)

Dw tho man asks for your consent because he loves you a lot and doesn't want your first time to be scary and all-

Wait did i say first time?

YES MF THINKS YOU'RE A VIRGIN- but guess what he's about to find out...

Before he can start kissing you, you push him onto his back and rip off his pants and leave a small peck on his lips before riding him like you are in a horse race- Good news gurl you are about to win, no one can compare

Poor man is speechless bc you are literally singing on his dick like you are the headliner in a choir...

And while you are singing you are rhythmically bouncing too LMAO

IM👏GONNA👏PUMP👏EVERY👏SINGLE👏DROP👏OUT👏OF👏YOU

He aint scared no he just swallowed his tongue by accident- cuz you know...

HIS GIRL IS LITERALLY DOING THE DUCK WALK ON HIS DICK (🦆🦆🦆)

WALK THAT FUCKING DUCK Y/N QUACK QUACK QUACK

He decides to grab your hips to slow you down a little bc you are causing an earthquake with a magnitude of 6.9

but instead of slowing you down now you are making him jump on the bed with you too LMAOAOAOAOAO- imagine someone breaking in and seeing two floating figures on the bed

He's like "SLOW DOWN Y/N-"

But nuh uh you are too caught up in your own horny world so you continue to milk him (Fr tho calm down queen aren't those legs tired?🦵)

After cumming for the 5th time he tapped out LMAO-

You gave him a concussion bc of making him bounce for too long KSJFHJSDKFGSDKJHSD- POOR KATSUKI

He was laying there, unconscious with drool dripping down his mouth and it took you three full minutes to realise that he passed out (OMG I'm gone-)

Fly high Katsuki Bakugo 🕊️🕊️

Dw tho you made sure to pamper him the morning after, bringing him a breakfast tray filled with pancakes and a cup of coffee. A cute innocent smile plastered on your face

"Morning, baby!"

Needless to say, he was shocked ( pretty sure he thinks it was the hottest night ever but doesn't wanna hurt his own pride by telling you that)

"WHAT HAPPENED-"

Todoroki

BAHAHAHA OMG OK LISTEN-

So both of you are lovebirds obv because Todoroki would be the most caring boyfriend ever (i'll fight you about this one 🥊🥊🥊) so its impossible not to be in love with him

So pretty baby thinks it's going to be all about kisses, vanilla, sweet loving, him showing how much he cares about you etc.

AND HE IS A VIRGIN

Todoroki being a virgin is such a turn on he trusts you enough to give his first time to you (aw❤️🤍)

...but you didnt know that he was a virgin

I mean come on look at him how can he be a virgin while looking THAT PRETTY

So one time, while you guys were chilling on the couch watching Titanic and snacking on some strawberries together he decides to make the first move and gently holds your hand while whispering sweet things to your ear and then you hear the magical word (open sesame zimzalabim this coochie 🔮)

"Y/n, I wanna do it."

BIG MISTAKE SHOTO VERY BIG- So being the horny queen you are the wicked horny grin makes its way to your lips and baby is concerned Before he can say anything you immediately grab a strawberry and stuff it into his mouth and quickly try to get him off of his sweatpants

Then you work your magic on him by giving him the best and first head of his life ✨ and trust me he is enjoying it very much

Mmmm yes that famous glock glock 60000 GOBBLE UP BABES don't let em Santa Claus looking pubic hair get into your nose tho🎅

Pretty moans were filling the living room while his fingers lock with yours

But the baby was too lost in his own pleasure so he accidentally bit the strawberry and took it out of his mouth

But you noticed so you grabbed a new one and harshly shoved it into his mouth

"Dont. swallow. the. strawberry."

Babies eyes went wide

YOU SCARED HIM

AND IT WAS HIS FIRST TIME TOO

he %100 looked like this-

So now he was drowning in his own pool of saliva trying not to bite into the strawberry while his eyes were rolling at the back of his head (bc of your amazing tongue skills)

Spot the difference between your mouth and a vacuum cleaner

NONE

When i tell you, you were sucking him DRY

like the next Todoroki generation got to the point of extinction

at this point he was trying to pry you off of his dick bc the overstimulation was TOO much lolol

Poor baby accidentally covered the couch with small burns

when you lifted your head to check up on him you were met with a sobbing Shoto

BOY WAS GASPING

Literally thought of bringing him an oxygen tank but decided against it bc he calmed down after receiving your loving kisses You layed his head on your chest while combing through his locks with your fingers, you made sure to give him a great aftercare

"Are first times are this rough?"

You choked on Casper the ghosts dick

"WHAT-" Literally mourned for two hours bc of treating him so roughly LMAO

A/N: I'm done- sorry for the typos if i have any, i was too lazy to edit :p

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luvfy0dor · 9 months

Note

hiii feel free to ignore this but can i request sfw alphabets with akutagawa pls 😭 have a good day!!

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke SFW Alphabet ੈ✩‧₊˚

Description; Alphabetical fluff prompts with Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Warnings; not proof read at all

A/n; AHHHH Ive always wanted to do an alphabet like this. Sorry if I characterized him weirdly.

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) ★

Akutagawa isn't very affectionate, but he'll absolutely hold hands or lock pinkies with you in public. At home he likes having his arm around your waist while he sits on the couch or in bed with you; touching you in some way reassures him that you are infact there with him.

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) ★

The friendship would have to start in either childhood or the port mafia. Having Akutagawa as your best friend includes him looking out for you. It's not really weird, it just proves how caring he is deep down and how much he wants you to stay around him.

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) ★

He likes it. Depending on his mood he might even verbally initiate it. "I want to cuddle. Sit down and cuddle with me, please." He's rather blunt and he knows you'll oblige 99% of the time, so why not just go for it? When he cuddles, Akutagawa likes laying on top of you, head pressed against your chest while he listens to your heartbeat. Sometimes he'll be the big spoon, but he likes being the little spoon for the most part.

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How good are they at cooking or cleaning?) ★

He's given domestic life a thought and he wouldn't mind it. It's just not something he's outwardly seeking at the moment. Should he fulfill his goals such as proving to Dazai that he's not weak; yeah, maybe, but it's not his top priority. When it comes to cooking and cleaning, he's actually not horrible. I think he can make some basic foods spaghetti or pancakes, but if you're trying to have a fillet mignon for dinner don't rely on him. He's pretty good at cleaning. He knows what chemicals to keep separated and which ones are okay to use together. He dislikes doing dishes though, even if you own a dishwasher he'll grimace while trying to hold bowls in certain ways that won't splash him with water.

E - Ending (If they had to break up with a partner, how would they do it?) ★

If it was a conclusion he came to on his own that he didn't want to be with you anymore, it would be blunt and in person. He'd probably distance himself for a while beforehand while coming to the conclusion because even he knows that it's not something that just happens over night. He would ask you to meet up with him and immediately say something along the lines of "I don't want this relationship any longer. Things between us are done."

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How do they feel about getting married?) ★

He's not going to be in a relationship with someone unless he feels like they're 100% not leaving. He'll be committed to you for sure, though. When it comes to getting married, it probably hasn't crossed his mind. He's not against it, but like settling down it's not his top priority. He can love you just as much without the fancy title.

G - Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) ★

Akutagawa is rather gentle but if he gets worked up he'll be pretty harsh and say stuff he really doesn't mean out of anger. But physically he's pretty gentle for the most part.

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) ★

I think he likes hugs but it takes a while for him to actively seek them out. He doesn't hug you very often, but he doesn't push you away when you hug him. Hugging him is like hugging a thun memory foam pillow that you stuck in the fridge for a solid ten minutes. He's pretty stiff when you hug him, but the more often he hugs you it becomes more natural and flowy.

I - I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) ★

Part of me thinks he would say it way to fast but the other part of me thinks he'd hold off for a really long time. I think he'd say it whenever he came to the realization that he loves you. He doesn't dwell on whether he says it too quickly, he just says it.

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?) ★

He gets jealous pretty quickly. When he is he'll probably confront you about it, but he's quick to take your reassurance for the most part. It's really not about trust but more about wanting your attention wholly.

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) ★

Akutagawa kisses you passionately, sometimes roughly and others as gently as a feather falling to the ground. No kiss is meaningless to him. He likes to kiss your lips and in between your eyebrows. He likes to be kissed on his nose and lips.

L - Little Ones (How are they around children?) ★

Akutagawa isn't terrible with children, he knows how to take care of them. He's not going to willingly play with barbie dolls or matchbox cars though, the kid would have to convince him. He's rather awkward around them.

M - Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) ★

Mornings with Akutagawa probably consist of sleepy cuddling. I don't think he's much of a morning person and definetly prefers to stay in the comfort of you shared bed, under the blankets with him. But, he is the type of man that will share a morning routine with you- brushing your teeth together, skincare (I think if you asked him to do it with you, he would after light resisting), getting dressed, etc.

N - Night (How are nights spent with them?) ★

I think nights are relatively similar when it comes to routines. He would participate with you and when you both slip under the covers he'd probably sit and read for a while before actually settling down and sleeping.

O - Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) ★

Akutagawa, to me atleast, is emotionally an open book. But when it comes to his past he would probably wait a while to reveal things slowly. His past is more vulnerable to him than his emotions he feels.

P - Patience (How easily angered are they) ★

It really depends. He'd have a little more patience when if comes to you, but he's relatively short tempered.

Q - Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) ★

He remembers little details and he absolutely relies on them when it comes to gift giving and stuff like that. He remembers everything.

R - Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) ★

The moment you accepted his confession. He loves it so much because it marks the start of everything. He loves celebrating anniversaries.

S - Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) ★

He's pretty protective, he doesn't want to see you hurt, like any partner wouldn't. He protects you via keeping you away from Port Mafia affairs. Him being protected is tricky because I think it would make him feel kinda weak, but at the same time he might like it once every now and again.

T - Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks) ★

He puts effort into gifts like no other. He really wants to make sure it's something you love and then bashfully watch you open it. His idea of putting effort into dates is making a reservation for a nice restaurant, so in his eyes he puts heaping piles of effort in.

U - Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) ★

He's unintentionally snappy sometimes or he comes off the wrong way. He's also always messing with the thermostat and he leaves laundry in the drier until he absolutely needs the clothes or someone else moves it.

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) ★

He's relatively concerned with them, he likes dressing a certain way and for his hair to be specific lengths, but he's not obsessed with them.

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) ★

No. He can get by on his own, he loves you very very much, but he understands that you're a luxury. He's attached to you but he knows you're not a necessity like water or food.

X - Xtra (A random headcannons for them.) ★

He moves around a lot in his sleep. He kicks and rolls and everything. Some days you might wake up looking like you tried settling beef with Stone Cold Steve Austin.

Y - Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?) ★

He doesn't like unreliable people or liars, if you say you'll do something for him, then he expects you to follow through. If you tell him something, it should be the truth. There's no reason for lying, especially in a relationship.

Z - Zzz (What's a sleep habit of theirs?) ★

He kicks a lot like I said, and he would prefer to sleep with one of those fuzzy, high quality animal print throw blankets than a comforter. He likes to sleep in warm rooms, not too hot not too cold.

A/n; I'm gonna be so fr I kinda struggled with this one. Akutagawa is interesting to write for but I'm not sure he's my favorite.

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radiant-reid · 1 year

Note

proposal idea

after every date, or every morning after ( 🤭), pretty much just whenever reader sleeps over, she makes spencer french toast the next morning

so when spencer proposes, he gets up early to make her french toast and when he trays it up he has the ring sitting on the side, like next to a flower or something 🥹

- 🥹

omg i'm a sucker for a proposal blurb

You're very confused when you wake up and Spencer's not next to you. After the evening, and then the night, you had together, it would usually be you getting up first. He's not the morning person he thinks he is, and you pretend not to notice. That's how the routine started, and it's continued since then.

"Spence?" You call out from bed, guessing he might be in the bathroom.

"In the kitchen, sweetheart!" He calls back.

You follow his voice through the apartment until you find your handsome boyfriend, shirtless and stirring pancake batter.

"What's cooking, good looking?" You ask with a smirk, resting against the doorway as you watch him.

Spencer laughs as he turns around, opening his arms up to wrap you in a tight hug. You rest against his chest with your arms wrapped around his waist and he places his head on top of yours.

"I love you." He says.

It seems... deeper than normal. Every time he says he loves you, it's heartfelt and sincere but something's different.

You tilt your head up to look at him. "What's up?"

"I just think you're perfect." He says softly.

"You know that's not-" Spencer places a finger over your lips before you can debate his claim.

"Let me finish." He demands, quickly adding some wide puppy dog eyes when you raise your eyebrows. "Please. I love you so much, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

You frown slightly, speaking with his finger pressed to your lips. "I want that too." You assure him, but it doesn't seem to be reassurance he's after.

"This should be okay then." He whispers to himself, confusing you. He shifts around you, moving so he's standing behind you with his head on your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your stomach.

That's when you notice the most gorgeous engagement ring you've ever seen in a ring box next to a single sunflower. In shock, your hand clasps over your mouth as your heart thumps hard against your chest.

"Will you marry me?" He whispers.

You're crying while you nod, moving your hand away so your voice isn't muffled. "Yes." Then it hits you, what it means if you accept his offer, and it's the easiest choice you've ever made. "Yes! Of course!"

In one swift motion, you turn around in his arms, cup his cheeks, and smash your lips on his, kissing him passionately.

Spencer goes in for another quick peck once you've kissed until you've run out of air. "Try it on." He nods to the ring.

You grin excitedly, picking up the box gently. It's even more shiny and bigger up close. "Wow."

"Good enough?" He asks with a huge grin.

He knows it is, but you assure him with a firm nod. "It's perfect."

"Put it on." He says excitedly.

"You should do the honors, Doctor Reid." You remind him, holding out the box. "Just for practice."

Spencer's grin remains prominent as he takes the ring out of the cushion and slips it onto your finger. "Okay, future Mrs. Reid."

That has your heart melting even more as you both admire the ring on your finger and how it looks like it was made to be there. "Why a sunflower?" You ask, briefly looking at the flower still sitting on the bench.

"They're a symbol of happiness, optimism, honesty, longevity, peace, admiration, faithfulness, and devotion." He reports in true Spencer-like fashion and his explanation makes sense, just like everything about being with him does.

#🥹#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb

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celestiababie · 2 years

Text

Stay At Home Husband! Mingyu Part 3...

Pairings: Stay at home husband! Mingyu x fem! reader

Genre: Smut with plot, fluff, hint of angst (nothing too bad I promise)

Warnings: Cursing, talks of traditional gender roles :/, getting cockblocked multiple times (once by your daughter), fingering (m), pegging, cum eating, use of the word slut once, reader can't cook in this. Let me know if I need to add anything else

Word Count: 7.255k (this is the longest thing I've posted oof—)

Summary: You try and find ways to give back to your loving husband...with a few trial and error.

A/N: Here's part 3 of this wonderful saga. I had so much fun writing this and I'm actually proud of it which is a weird feeling. I hope it doesn't disappoint those who wanted a third part! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Credit to the anon who gave me an idea for part of this fic!

Series Masterlist

Y/DN = Your daughter's name...I didn't want to just make up a name everyone hated pfft

Ever since your previous rendezvous a few days ago with your husband, he noticed something different about you—or rather: how you were treating him.

You've always been a fantastic wife. He couldn't ask for a better woman to marry, but there were very distinct roles in the relationship that kept him comfortable and at peace. He found purpose in cooking breakfast every morning for you and your beautiful daughter, which is why it surprised him to wake up one morning with a noticeable absence on your side of the bed. The smell of pancakes and bacon confused his brain, making him question if he was dreaming.

But all his dreams included you, so that couldn't have been it.

He made his way to the kitchen, still groggy from waking up. He rubbed his eyes as his eyes suddenly came into focus on your figure, scrambling around the kitchen with a look of frustration on your face.

This wasn't right—cooking breakfast was his job.

Your head raises upon hearing the clearing of his throat, too focused on your terribly made pancakes to notice your half-naked husband standing by the archway. You bite your lip in embarrassment as your husband comes around the kitchen island to examine your creation.

"What are you doing?"

His question causes a pout on your face, his eyes flickering down to your lips, holding back from kissing you since he hadn't brushed his teeth yet.

"Well, since it's my day off...I thought I could make breakfast for you and Y/DN, but they stuck to the pan, and I tried to scrape it off...but! At least we have scrambled pancakes now!" You hope your smile distracts him from the abomination you plated, but to your disappointment, it hadn't.

A noticeable frown forms on Mingyu's face, his eyes drifting off with an unreadable expression.

Oh God, he's gonna divorce me over pancakes.

You curse at yourself as you let your head fall into your hands.

"I'm a terrible wife— I can't even cook one good thing for my husband." You huff into your hands, and another wave of embarrassment runs through your body.

Mingyu's attention quickly turns to you again, letting your words sink in. That wasn't remotely why he felt a little bit upset.

Mingyu loved cooking for you and Y/DN. He was perfectly content with the dynamic you two had. You went to work while he stayed home, taking care of the house and Y/DN. That's how it's always been. But ever since that night in the living room, Mingyu noticed you doing more things around the house. Things that were his job. He couldn't help but feel a little sad and empty, feeling like he was no longer pulling his weight in the relationship.

"You don't need to cook, Y/N. I cook for you, I've always cooked for you, and I love cooking for you," he firmly states with a soft voice, his hands moving to rub up and down your shoulders.

"I know, but I just want to do something nice for once. You always do so much for me, and I never get to do something back."

Your head rose from your hands. A pout still lingers on your lips.

"Is that why you've been doing the dishes lately? And taking out the trash? And cleaning? And doing the laundry?" He asked with a loving gaze, his hands reaching up to cup your face in his warm palms.

You slowly nod as you avoid his eyes, his stare making you feel shy even after years of marriage.

Mingyu briefly smiles at you before dipping his head to press his lips against your forehead. Mingyu lifts you onto the counter, standing between your legs, and he interlocks your hands with his.

" Although I appreciate you wanting to do things for me. I really appreciate the thought. You don't have to take care of the house to take care of me and show me how much you appreciate everything I do. Maybe for other people, those things would feel like tedious chores, but for me, it's nice? I like taking care of the house. And I like making sure you and Y/DN are comfortable. Please don't take that away from me, okay?"

"I'm sorry...I just wanted to be a good wife," you whisper. Before your head can fall to look at your lap, one of Mingyu's hands tilt your chin upwards, forcing you to look at him in his soft coffee-colored eyes.

"You don't have to do all those things to be a good wife or mom. You do plenty to provide for Y/DN and I. Do you think I'm a bad husband for staying home?"

Your eyes widen from his question, emotions flaring up despite knowing he didn't actually think you thought he was a shitty husband.

"Of course not! You're the best husband in the world." You softly hit his chest, feigning offense that he would even ask such a thing.

A proud smile creeps on Mingyu's face, his teeth pressing down in his bottom teeth in an attempt to hide his inflated ego.

"Good. Now let me remake breakfast before our little angel wakes up. And if you really wanna give back so bad, I'm sure we can find other ways that don't include you stealing my precious job," he chuckles out as he turns away from you, setting your abomination aside as he begins to make breakfast as usual.

You playfully glare at the back of his head before a smirk replaces your previous pout. As your eyes scan Mingyu's half-naked figure, they soon place their attention on Mingyu's ass in his boxers, reminding you of your husband's question from a few nights ago.

Admittedly, you had no clue what pegging was when he asked, causing your husband to say a simple 'oh—never mind then.' before dozing off to sleep. But you didn't forget and did some research to know exactly what your husband was into.

And, fuck—was the idea hot.

You slide off the counter and wrap your arms around Mingyu's waist as he cooks, your head resting against his toned back. You slide your hands down his waist, causing Mingyu to tense against you as he feels your hands suddenly cop a feel of his ass.

"Something like fucking you after all these years of fucking me so well? Would that be a good way of giving back, baby?"

Mingyu's breath hitches, a blush forming on his cheeks as he listens to you. He turns his head ever so slightly, giving you a surprised look.

"You said you didn't know what it was—"

Biting your lip, you squeeze his ass before pulling away completely, making your way out of the kitchen, but not before saying, "I didn't, but I do now. Finish up breakfast. I'll wake up Y/D."

You flash him a wink as you sway your hips more than usual, leaving him as flustered as he usually made you.

The next couple of your days were spent with your eyes practically glued to your phone, researching all the best ways to peg your husband. You were woman enough to admit that you lacked expertise in this field, and the last thing you wanted was for Mingyu to have a bad experience because you didn't know what the fuck you were doing.

After spending a generous amount of time searching the Internet for information and ordering a few toys, you felt confident enough to finally put your newfound knowledge into full use, ready to give your husband the most mind-blowing orgasm he's ever had.

Operation: peg your husband was in full effect and running smoothly...

Mingyu's face lit up with pure excitement when you whispered into his ear at dinner all of the dirty things you wanted to do to him while your daughter struggled to use her spoon.

You ignore Mingyu's stare at the side of your face as you reach over to help your daughter eat her food, her adorable smile of gratitude taking your mind off of Mingyu, who was still staring at you with an expression that could only be described as pure desire.

Once your daughter finally got the hang of using her spoon, you lean back into your seat, turning to look at your husband, who hasn't touched his plate since.

"What's wrong? Does Daddy need Mommy's help too?" You smirk as your husband's eyes darken, his pupils blown out as he clenches his fist underneath the table.

The sound of Y/DN's laughter brings the both of you back to reality, reminding you that you shouldn't, in fact, be undressing each other with your eyes right in front of your unknowing daughter.

"Daddy, look! I can eat better than you," your daughter giggles out, reminiscent of Mingyu's laugh, as she raises a spoonful of food to her mouth to prove her point.

Operation: peg your husband was still running according to plan.

After Mingyu cleaned up all the dishes, you read your daughter to sleep alone this time, your husband too busy taking a longer-than-usual shower to get himself all prepped for you. You silently praise your daughter for being a fast sleeper, just like her father.

With your daughter peacefully tucked into bed, the stuffed bear in her arm keeping her company, and the night light shining bright to keep monsters away, you quietly sneak out of her room to make your way toward the master bedroom.

The sound of the shower running is the first thing you're greeted with as you open the door. Wanting to give Mingyu an additional surprise, you quickly change into his favorite pair of red lingerie that fit your body like a glove, hugging all the parts that made Mingyu drool.

You saunter towards one of the bedside tables, grabbing everything you planned on using for the night.

Upon hearing the shower suddenly stop, you scrambled onto the bed, adjusting your bra one last time as you waited for Mingyu to exit the bathroom.

He nearly jumps out of his skin as he spots your body on the bed, clutching his poor heart.

"Fuck sake— I didn't even hear you come in..." He decreases in volume with each word that leaves his lips, his brain trying to take in how fucking sexy you looked.

Red always was his favorite color.

You bite your lip as your eyes trail down his bare chest, all the way down to his v-line, the towel loosely wrapped around his hips leaving very little to the imagination. You'd always love your husband no matter what he looked like. But, you did appreciate how easy on the eyes he was. Long gone was the rowdy yet kind, naive boy you met in your second year of college. Mingyu was now a well-rounded adult who seemed to grow into his looks year after year, aging like the most decadent fine wine.

With a single finger, you beckon Mingyu to you, his towel dropping as he moves to climb on top of you. His lips instantly found yours, pressing them against yours in sync that was perfected over the years. A soft moan gets muffled as Mingyu's hardening cock presses against your stomach. As his lips left open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your neck, and over your collarbones, his hips grind his thick cock against you.

His desire for you was evident, but you couldn't allow yourself to get distracted away from what you wanted to do for Mingyu. As much as you loved how his hips and mouth movement felt so natural, it was time to try something new.

" Baby, this isn't a part of my plan. I'm the one on top tonight," you coo out, hands pushing your husband off of you and onto his back with little resistance. Mingyu was a big guy, much stronger than you, which is why the lack of pushback confused you. But with a single look at the desperate look on Mingyu's face, his lustful eyes staring deep into yours, you could tell Mingyu was too horny to have any control over his own body.

"You still want this, pretty boy?" You drag your nails down Mingyu's chest, causing his whole body to shudder at the feeling. He licked over his lip, nodding his head a few times without a hint of hesitation. He wanted it so bad. He's secretly fantasized about playing with his ass but was always too focused on your needs to bring it up and too nervous to try it on himself. But tonight, Mingyu had complete trust in you.

"Please, fuck me," he lets out with a heavy breath, his hips squirming against the bed as his anticipation starts to get the best of him.

A single chuckle from your lips causes his cock to twitch, something about the sound turning on even more. You found it somewhat amusing that Mingyu, your strong 6' foot 2" husband, was begging you to fuck his tight little ass.

"Come on, baby, you know I can't fuck you just yet...I gotta make sure you're all stretched out for me so you can take it like a good boy," you tease as your hand trails lower and lower, nails grazing down his shaft before rubbing underneath his balls. Instantly, your actions elicit a positive response, Mingyu's hips bucking against you as his head sinks into the pillows beneath him.

"Such a pretty boy— Spread your legs for me?" Your soft tone eases any nerves that start to build in the pit of Mingyu's stomach, his legs spreading slightly. You shake your head and guide him to spread his legs a bit more, pushing them until his feet are planted firmly on the bed.

"Just relax for me, Mingyu. I promise I'll take good care of you," you whisper as you lean forward to kiss up his stomach and chest, the man underneath you sighing in pleasure.

Reaching to the side, you grab the bottle of lube you grabbed earlier from the bedside table. You lean back as you playfully wave the bottle in front of Mingyu, a soft chuckle rumbling out of him.

"Let's go over a few things, okay?"

Mingyu nods, mumbling an 'okay' as he waits for you to continue.

"Tell me if you ever need to stop or take a break for whatever reason, tell me immediately. I want you to have a good time, and if you're not, I don't want you to force yourself to continue. I need you to tell me how you feel when I ask. And if you need me to change how I'm doing it, I'll go as slow, fast, hard, and deep as you want me to, but I can't read your mind, so you need to speak up. Got it?"

Mingyu canines sink into his plush bottom lip, biting back a smile from the authority in your voice.

"Understood, baby. And if you're uncomfortable with anything, you better tell me too. I know you're doing this for me, but I don't want you to feel weirded out by anything. We'll stop if either one of us isn't feeling it."

Mingyu briefly sits up to press a long kiss to your lips, not just out of lust but out of love. He lays back down, nuzzling his head deeper into the pillows as he watches you closely for your following movements.

With a deep breath, you pop off the cap of the bottle of lube, squeezing out a more than generous amount onto your finger. It was better to be safe than sorry. You rub the glob of lube between your thumb and two fingers, warming it up so it wouldn't startle Mingyu as your press your fingers against his tight hole, rubbing over it in slow circles.

Your eyes flicker to your husband's face, catching the way his eyes flutter close, his entire body sinking further into the bed. He had no idea how good he looked right now.

Your other hand rubs over one of his toned thighs before a question leaves your lips.

"Feels good?"

You knew it did, you could tell by the look on his face and the way his cock seemed to twitch with every rub of your fingers, but you wanted to hear the words come out of his mouth.

"Mhm— so good, baby. Can't wait for you to fuck me," he sighed, his hips starting to move against his finger, showing you how badly he wanted it.

"Yeah? You think you're ready for a finger?"

You let out a laugh as your husband nods his head against the pillows, the furrow of his brows showing that he was starting to get impatient.

You allow your eyes to focus on where your fingers meet his ass, your mind running through all the information you read online before mustering up the courage to press a single finger against the puckered hole, the lube aiding you as you the tip of your finger sinks into him slowly. Mingyu shifts a bit at the new and slightly uncomfortable feeling of your finger inserting into him. It didn't feel terrible, and he didn't want to stop yet, but it was definitely weird.

The face of discomfort on Mingyu causes you to stop your finger from going any deeper, a look of concern now written on your face.

"Need me to stop?"

Mingyu quickly shakes his head, smiling at how attentive you're being.

"No, I'm good. I promise. It's just weird. I'm fine. You can continue, baby."

You allow yourself to trust his words, your finger sliding into him almost all the way before halting again. Mingyu lets out a deep exhale as he tries to adjust to the feeling. After the initial wave of discomfort, Mingyu had to be honest with himself...it didn't really feel like much. He could tell your finger was inside of him, but there was no pleasure.

"Still good, Mingyu?"

Okay, you've got this. Just 2 inches deep, down to the first knuckle. Now all you gotta do is curl your finger up a bit.

"Yeah, I'm good. It does really feel like anything, to be honest with— holy shit, fuck, oh my god."

Mingyu's words abruptly cut off with a string of profanities, his back arching off the bed as you curl your finger just as you read online, nudging against his prostate. It was unlike anything he's ever felt before, his body losing control over itself as a sudden shock of pleasure moved throughout his entire body.

"Shit—are you okay? Should I stop?" You ask in a panic, not realizing your husband's strong reaction wasn't out of pain; it was out of pure pleasure.

Mingyu lets out a whimper as his eyes open to look at you, shaking his head as his hands move to grip the bed sheets.

"No, don't stop. Fuck—it felt so good, baby. Please, please, please do it again. Keep going, please," he begs, desperate for more.

You feel a heat run through your body when you realize how much Mingyu had enjoyed what you did, arousal soaking into your panties. You rub over his stomach as you curl your finger upwards again, causing another strong reaction from Mingyu.

Biting your lip, you began to move your finger in a come hither motion. Mingyu's mouth drops as whines and whimpers leave his lips before he can stop them. His eyes roll to the back of his head as his knuckles turn white from how hard he gripped the sheets. Precum leaks out of his cock, enough for Mingyu to nearly convince himself that he was cumming already.

"Look at you, baby, taking my finger so fucking well. You're so tight, Mingyu. How am I ever gonna fit another finger, let alone a cock, inside you?" You tease, watching your husband fall apart underneath you all from a single finger inside of him.

Mingyu pants, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tries to register what you're saying, too fucked out already to focus on anything other than what he felt.

" Finger—a-another one, p-please," Mingyu practically sobs out. It was safe to say this was the best thing Mingyu had ever experienced. Mingyu absolutely loved fucking you and the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock, but this was different. A different kind of pleasure. Something so intense it was almost unbearable.

You dip a second finger into Mingyu's hole as he wishes, stretching him out further than before. You continue your curling motions, the feeling somehow more intense than before. Mingyu's moans grew in volume, a familiar but different feeling forming in his stomach, getting stronger with each push of your fingers.

Mingyu felt lightheaded in the best way possible, his brain turning into mush as he allowed himself to fully immerse himself in the incredible feeling.

"M' gonna c-cum—fuck, s' close," he slurs, his eyes rolling again as he feels his biggest orgasm yet getting ready to burst out of him.

" Yeah, baby? I haven't even touched your cock yet." You were amazed at how much pleasure Mingyu was getting out of this and a bit proud of yourself for being the one giving it to him.

All he needed was a few more good pumps of your fingers.

A little bit more.

Just a bit more.

Knock knock knock—

"Mommy? Daddy?"

The sudden sound of a soft knocking and your daughter's soft voice behind the door takes you out of the moment. You curse under your breath as you pull your fingers out of Mingyu, a whimper leaving his lips from the sudden emptiness, the feeling of release getting ripped away from him. You felt bad, you really did, but you couldn't exactly ignore your daughter, who sounded upset from behind the door.

"I'm so sorry, Mingyu. Let me just check what she needs—"

"I-It's okay, just check on her," he pants out, slowly coming down from the feeling of his almost orgasm. Yes, he was frustrated from the sudden stop, but the guilt of feeling frustrated towards his daughter was instant karma, the feeling turning him off completely.

You quickly wash your hands in the bathroom, grabbing a robe to cover your lingerie-clad body. Mingyu covers his body with a blanket as you open the door, bending down to hug your sniffling daughter.

"What's wrong, princess?"

"H-had a n-nightmare," she hiccups, hugging your body as tight as her little arms would allow her. You turn your head to flash an apologetic smile at your husband as your daughter cries in your arms.

Operation: Peg your husband did not go as smoothly as you had hoped.

It was beginning to seem as if the world, some unknown force, had a vendetta against you fucking your husband in the ass. Nothing seemed to be going your way.

For starters, your work was very demanding, with additional hours to your schedule, which left you mentally and physically exhausted by the time you got home. The pay was generous, but it wasn't worth the time it stripped away from you. The time you could be spending with Y/DN and Mingyu. The time you could be spending fucking the brains out of Mingyu.

Then, you got sick. Maybe it was the exhaustion your body was being put through. Or maybe, it was just because cold and flu season was rolling around. Either way, you got fucking sick, which meant staying in bed all day, using up your precious sick days.

Then, just as you recovered, for the most part, Y/DN got sick as well, leaving you and Mingyu to take care of your little princess until she felt all better.

It was safe to say that Operation: peg your husband was put on the back burner.

Mingyu hadn't complained once. Not when he worked extra hard to prep your meals for your long days at work. Not when he'd run you a bath and give you a nice shoulder rub before you passed out. Not when he took care of you when you were sick. Not when he took care of your daughter.

It frustrated you that you couldn't take care of your husband. Either he ignored his wants, or there simply was no time to tend to them. But, you weren't gonna let this stop you. If anything, the past few weeks were only fueling your determination, ready to pounce on your husband at any given moment.

However, you were more sophisticated than that (not really) and devised a new plan to get into Mingyu's pants.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you feel Mingyu's loving hands rub your sore shoulders as he sits behind the bubble bath he prepared for you. Although Mingyu hated seeing how exhausted you've been, getting extra worried, especially after you were sick, he did enjoy the night routine you two had nowadays. You didn't eat dinner with Y/DN and him, but he did spend time with you, helping you unwind.

You raise a hand out of the bath to cover one of Mingyu's before interlocking your fingers, bringing his hand up to your mouth to press a few kisses to his skin.

"That tickles, Y/N," he giggles, trying to pull his hand out of your grasp, but you didn't let your husband escape. Not when you had to let him know what you planned out.

"I have the weekend off...so we get to spend time together tomorrow."

Mingyu smirks at the suggestive tone in your voice, leaning forward to rest his chin on the bathtub.

"Yeah? And Sunday?"

"Mhm, and Sunday. And I know how much your parents have been dying to see Y/DN recently, so I may have told them that she could stay at their place for the weekend. They seemed happy about it."

Mingyu's smirk only grew wider as you spoke. He lifts his head and slowly drags his hands along your shoulders and down to your breasts, submerged in the water.

"We get the whole place to ourselves?" You can hear the excitement dripping from his voice, biting your lips as he squeezes your tits.

"That's right, baby. We have unfinished business to tend to. I still haven't fucked your pretty ass yet. They'll be here to pick her up around 1 pm"

Mingyu lets out a sigh as his mind drifts off to the night you fingered him. Although he didn't cum, the feeling of your fingers was incredible, and it only made Mingyu want more.

It was safe to say that your little operation was back. This time, you were gonna make sure your husband came.

You smile brightly as your daughter waves goodbye to you and Mingyu.

"We love you! Be good to Grandma and Grandpa, okay?" Your husband calls out to her as she gets further away, her hand tightly grasping your mother-in-law's hand.

Y/DN turns her head to nod at Mingyu, letting go of her grandmother's hand to hold her arms over her head in a heart shape before she's placed in the car and off for the rest of the weekend.

Once the car is out of sight, you turn your heels to face Mingyu with a devious smirk.

"Bedroom?"

"Bedroom."

Mingyu scoops you up in his arms as he eagerly brings you into the house, kicking the front door behind him closed. He carries you up the stairs, nearly tripping as you kiss along the side of his neck, your hands roaming across his torso and tugging at the shirt he wore. Luckily, the two of you make it to the bedroom in one piece, your husband's clumsiness not interrupting what you both were craving.

Mingyu was buzzed with excitement since this morning, touchier than usual as he waited to have you all for himself. He planned ahead, taking time to prep himself when he took a shower this morning, so there was no time wasted today. There was nothing more that Mingyu wanted other than a glimpse of the feeling he had last time.

You two touch and grope at each other feverishly, and you strip each other of all of your clothes. You momentarily gawk at your husband's naked body. Sure, you saw him undress all the time, but you were too busy to appreciate your husband's body. You wanted him to know how sexy he truly was.

Mingyu let out a moan as you kiss his chest, bending down slightly to lick up his abs, his knees almost buckling at the feeling.

"Lay down for me, Mingyu," you breathe out, your voice low and seductive, so sexy that any man would listen to you. And he does.

Mingyu lays on the bed like last time, but this time having his feet planted on the bed without your guidance.

You feel a tingle shoot to your core as you hungrily gaze at your husband in full display before you. You crawl between his legs, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you hold yourself up with the other.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted this, my pretty boy. How many times I've thought about bending you over the counter whenever you made breakfast and making your pretty ass mine," you breathe out before dipping your head to kiss along his neck and collarbones, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

Mingyu's cock twitches beneath you as he moans from the feeling of your lips marking his skin.

"My ass is already yours— always has been, baby," he laughs. His hands grip your waist as you continue to kiss his skin, making your way up to his ear to give it soft nibbles.

"Yeah? All mine, baby? You're gonna let me stretch you out like last time?" You whisper in his ear, your voice making his cock twitch again.

Mingyu nods, his hips bucking upwards to rub his cock against you.

"So hard, and I've barely done anything yet. I don't think you're gonna last very long, Gyu," you tease as you lean back, taking Mingyu's cock in your hand to toy with his tip, a single bead of precum leaking out of him.

"I-I've been saving myself for you. I haven't even touched myself since," Mingyu admits as he squirms from the attention to his sensitive tip. You raise an eyebrow at your husband, shocked at the fact that he hasn't had an orgasm in so long.

"Poor baby probably has so much backed-up cum. I bet you're gonna make a fucking mess tonight. Gonna cover yourself in all your cum when I fuck your ass," you pout at him, feigning sympathy, which only makes another bead of precum drip out of him.

You let go of Mingyu's aching cock to reach into the bedside table, pulling out the same bottle of lube as last time. You follow the same steps as last time, rubbing the lube between your fingers and rubbing it along his hole in slow circles.

The speed of your actions was agonizing for Mingyu, his head throwing back as he groaned in frustration.

"Fuck—just put it in already, please."

You giggle at your husband's lack of patience but decide to give him what he wants, sliding two fingers in, causing him to sigh in relief.

"I finger you once, and all of a sudden, you're acting like a slut who can handle more. Don't get too ahead of yourself, Mingyu."

Before Mingyu can respond, a loud moan rumbles out of him, his head pushing against the pillows as his back arches off the bed when you curl your fingers just like last time, hitting his prostate with damn near perfect precision.

"Shit— so fucking good," he moans out, his eyes shut as your fingers prod against his prostate over and over.

Like last time, his cock leaks precum, pooling on his stomach.

You coo praises as your other hand slowly rubs his shaft, your fingers still working inside of him. Mingyu lets out a string of moans mixed with a few curses that slip out of him, his brain foggy from all of the pleasure.

The tight feeling in his stomach causes him to snap his eyes open, his hands darting down to push yours away from him in a hurry.

"Shit—did I do something wrong? Is everything okay, Mingyu?" You panic as you immediately take your hand off his cock and slowly pull out your fingers. You watch as Mingyu pants, licking over his lips before responding.

"I'm g-great—more than great, baby. I didn't want to cum before you got to fuck me," he breathes out, a rosy hue covering his face and chest. Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, noticing it sticking to his forehead.

A deep sigh leaves your lips, relieved that nothing's wrong. You run your hands over Mingyu's thighs as you lean over to press a kiss to his lips, his head lifting from the bed to chase after your lips when you pull away too soon.

"Stay right here, baby," you whisper to him as you get off the bed. Mingyu stares at the ceiling. Sounds of you shuffling around in the bathroom are the only thing heard, along with his heavy breaths. Mingyu turns his head to look at the closed bathroom door, worried about how long you were taking.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?"

"I'll be out in a minute!" Your voice calls out from behind the door as you adjust the strap-on, ensuring it's perfectly secured. You had a few toys of your own that were compatible with most strap-ons but were probably too big of a jump for Mingyu, who only knew what two of your fingers felt like. You were used to having Mingyu's thick cock in you, but Mingyu wouldn't be able to handle one close to his size just yet.

So, you opted for this one. A solid black one that was soft to the touch, curved at the end, came with its own strap and was a decent length and thickness for a beginner.

You turn to look at yourself in the mirror, straightening your back with newfound confidence before you exit the bathroom.

Mingyu's eyes quickly find your figure walking towards him, his eyes catching the toy that was now strapped onto you. His cheeks flush as he bites his lip, trying to hide his excitement as you crawl onto the bed. You bite back a smile of your own as you spread your husband's legs apart further, settling your body in between them.

"Do you want it like this, baby? We can try a different position if you want," you coo out, your fingertips trailing along his inner thighs.

You watch the cogs of Mingyu's brain turn as he thinks about your question. He had done some research himself and knew exactly what he wanted to try first.

"Can I lay on my stomach? I always fuck you like that, so I'm curious what it feels like—and I heard it's a good way to start," your husband shyly asks.

You nod your head with a reassuring smile, helping Mingyu flip onto his stomach, giving you a good look at his ass that you were ready to fuck. You feel arousal drip down your legs as you position yourself over Mingyu. His arms find comfort folding underneath the pillows as he turns his head to the side, waiting for more.

Kisses up his back and your hand rubbing over his ass, occasionally squeezing at it, causing Mingyu to sigh, his hips squirming against the bed, and his cock rubbing against the mattress.

"Fuck—Y/N, don't tease me," he moans out, lifting his hips to push his ass against your loving caresses.

"I'm not teasing you, baby. I'm appreciating you, am I not allowed to appreciate what a nice ass my husband has?" You said it was all mine, right?"

A shaky breath leaves Mingyu's lips as your words manage to turn him on more, his hips lifting once more.

"All yours— but please fuck me already," he whines, his lack of patience evident."

You chuckle softly at your husband's begging but decide to play nice tonight, reaching over to grab the bottle of lube and coating the toy thoroughly. Your hand spreads Mingyu's ass apart, letting some of the lube drip down onto his hole. You set the bottle aside, still holding his ass open so you could line the toy up to his tight hole.

"Now you know how it feels when you tease me, Mingyu."

You slowly push the toy inside of him, the curved end slipping past the tight rim. The toy was undoubtedly thicker than your fingers causing Mingyu to hiss at the new stretch. You do a quick check-in to ensure he's okay, only pushing more of the toy in when your husband gives you the green light.

Mingyu moaned as the tip of the toy nudged against his prostate, the curved tip instantly pressing against it as it slipped inside him. You soothing rub his lower back as you push the toy deeper inside of him inch by inch, letting him adjust to the new size.

"You're doing so well, baby. I'm almost all the way in. Such a good boy taking my cock," you purr out, shifting your knees on the bed, the toy moving inside of him and drawing out another moan from your husband.

Once you fit all of the toy inside of him, you stop moving, letting Mingyu embrace the full feeling before telling you to start moving.

You slowly start pulling out, your husband moaning at the feeling and letting out an even louder moan when you push your hips forward, the toy nustling deep inside of him. You repeat the same slow thrusts, biting your lips as Mingyu falls apart underneath you.

Mingyu couldn't control the way his body was moving underneath you, squirming at the feeling of the toy repeatedly hitting that spot that made his brain turn to mush. He could tell he could cum from this alone. All the weeks' worth of build-up only made him more sensitive, his body craving a release. He thought it couldn't get any better until you spoke up.

"Should I turn it on now?"

In his fucked out state, his brows furrowed, confused as to what you were talking about.

"T-turn it on? Turn what—" he turns speechless, his mouth falling open as a high-pitched moan escapes him, his eyes rolling back to his skull as he feels a vibration inside of him and hit against his sweet spot.

Oh yeah, and the toy vibrated.

You bite your lips as your eyes scan your husband's frame, more of your arousal dripping down your thighs as he thrashes underneath you from the intense feeling. Precum soaks into the bed as he feels his orgasm building and building with every thrust of your hips. You paid no attention to the tired feeling creeping up on you, your mind too focused on making your husband lose his mind.

"That's it, baby. I bet you can't wait to cum, hm? Gonna make a big mess for me? Maybe we should flip you over so I can watch you cum all over yourself."

Mingyu nods his head to your words, letting out a broken sob when you pull out to help him flip back onto his front. You smile at the glazed look in his eyes and his flushed face, resembling how he looked when he was drunk. But there was no alcohol in his system, the dazed expression on his face a product of the pleasure you were giving him.

You hold Mingyu's legs open with one hand as you line up the vibrating toy up to his hole, pushing into him with ease this time around. Although this wasn't for you necessarily, you enjoyed this position more, loving the way you could watch your husband's eyes roll back, his mouth unable to close as whines and moan of ecstasy left his pretty lips.

You could tell Mingyu was getting close as you thrust the toy into him a bit faster. His breath sped up the closer he got, hands gripping the pillow underneath his head as his entire body shook with the need to cum.

"S' close— fuck! Don't stop, baby. So, so close," he sobs out, his eyes tightly shut as he tries to prepare himself for the orgasm that would come any second now.

Your hand cups his balls, gently fondling them, and that's all Mingyu needs to send him over the edge. You watch in awe as your husband's back arches off the bed, a deep and long moan echoing out of him as thick cum oozes out of his cock, seeming to never end as it pools and drips from his stomach. His whole body shakes uncomfortably, his eyes rolling back as the only thing Mingyu can feel is a warmth shooting throughout his entire body. This was much different than his usual orgasms. The feeling wasn't even remotely the same. You helped him ride out his everlasting orgasm, his body continuing to shake even when he had no more cum left to shoot out.

You turn off the vibrator and slowly bring your movements to a halt when your husband whines about the feeling.

"Too much— too much." His back finally makes contact with the bed again, trying to come down from his high. You stay inside of Mingyu for a few more seconds before slowly guiding the toy out of him, him wincing when the tip grazes his sweet spot.

"You came so much, baby. Made such a pretty mess for me," you coo out, leaning over to swirl your finger in the pool of cum on his stomach.

Mingyu remains silent, still trying to catch his breath, his body convulsing every few seconds from the aftershocks of his orgasm. You lap up some of his cum with your tongue as your husband has just enough energy to grab your face, pulling you up to him so he can taste himself off your lips.

"Have fun?" You ask rhetorically, a dazed chuckle leaving his lips as he opens his eyes to finally look at you, the look of lust in his eye now replaced with love and affection (and tiredness).

"Mhm, thank you, Y/N. I love you," his words come out in a whisper, his voice huskier than usual from all the moaning.

You smile and cup your husband's face, kissing his lips again.

"I love you too. Let's get cleaned up, yeah? I'll make us something to eat."

Mingyu raises an eyebrow at you, not wanting to address the issue with what you just said. You bite your lip as you roll your eyes at him, letting go of his face to run them down his shoulders.

"Fine, I won't cook. But I'll order something for us to eat and just pretend I'm an amazing chef in my head. Is that better?"

Mingyu smiles at you and nods his head, rolling the two of you over to lay face to face on your sides, not paying mind to the cum dripping onto the bed.

"Much better. I wouldn't want to find a way to explain to Y/DN why we have to move out after you set the kitchen on fire."

Your husband shushes your annoyed response with his lips, distracting you from the rude (but believable) words that left his lips.

Damn him and his kissable lips.

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