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#january is one of my least favorite months
flowerytale · 4 months
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largesunglasses · 3 months
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And my dad just passed out and hit his head. My mom called 911 and they checked him out. He didn't want to go to the hospital so they called the doctor they have and they ok'd him not going. I don't think I'm going to get much sleep tonight
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reminders of the passage of time moodeboard
#my blog is in his last year of middle school. he'll be off to high school next year (at least I think so..? 13 yrs old is usually 8th grade#at least from my experience. 9th graders are usually 14. 10th are 15. etc. etc. and then you're in 12th grade#and graduate high school usually 17yrs old.) ANYWAY.. wow he is so ancient..#maybe he's still in a preteeny early teen emo phase or something.. I hope he gets some black and white striped armwarmers and black eyeline#r for his birthday. Maybe an MP3 player of course. Though because I don't really like most alternative music and he is my son he's actually#not allowed to listen to metal or pop punk or emo rock whatever stuff. I open the mp3 player and pre-stock it with only#disco and funk and classical music. he can have a little chiptune or techno stuff as a treat (sometimes emo adjacent maybe more#scene. I think a lot of scene kids were into that more.. emo's weird eccentric brother))#Also he starts taking iron pills his 13th birthday because he's probably incredibly anemic just like me#so on and so forth and et cetera (I'm just being silly.. I am not pro-controlling your children down to whatmusic they#listen to or etc.etc. lol)#THOUGH I love that it's in january... january is one of my favorite months if not my favorite. yeeaaay#just such a nice cool month. I like that it's the start of the year mostly and that it's sometimes snowy here. Like where I live nov - dec#isnt really actually snowy?? You always associate those winter Months with snow but I think snow happens later on this coast#so it's more like Jan - March or even april sometimes. Though that may just be climate change lol.. But it's cool that Jan is winter AND#ACTUALLY snowy. plus the Beginning Of Year vibes and energy.. hrm... nice nice.. ANYWAY#AND this is not even my first tumblr blog. I had a different one before it I think..#evviilll to be on one website for so long lol.. Very thankful that most websites I used to use as a 10 year old or whatever#are now defunct. There's something weird about how humans are just creating endless streams of words and pictures and all of this stuff#and it just goes out into the void and stays there long after the person themselves has forgotten it. not even like 'oh no what if i said#something bad!!' but more just the general sense of.. people create so much more ideas than they can actually hold in their heads. nobody#remembers exactly word for word every post they've ever made or etc. It's like parts of yourself that you've externalized and then fade awa#from you but they're still you but they're not so you just have little snapshots of yourself in time floating around entirely unbenknownst#to you. like making clones of yourself and then forgetting you did so but every once in a while going 'shit... there's clones out there..#of me and I don't even have track or awareness of them anymore.. what an odd concept..' etc. not EXACTLY like that ghbj..you know what I me#n.. or maybe you dont.. hrmm... ANYWAY#I am just now slightly recovering from my most recent mysterious illness spell and etc. so I would like to post more again and mAYBE even#do a costume if I'm being ambitious.. but after so many times of being randomly stricken by problems I'm now fearful of ever being too#hopeful lol.. always like 'I would like to go to the grocery store tomorrow! .... MAYBE.. if i CAN.. possibly... NOT getting my hopes up'.#etc. etc. etc. every statement has a caveat and a backup plan and so on and so forth and such is life.. anyway. happy birthday evil tumblr
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battywitch · 5 months
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Ffs
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tiny-feisty-gay · 2 years
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it’s 5am, i’ve been up for an hour because body decided it’s time for Awake and now i’m just sad about my lack of sleep
[sad rambling in tags, feel free to ignore]
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yourdoorisunlocked · 3 months
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What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 1
🎙️【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽𝑰 】🎙️
𝐀/𝐍: This was originally supposed to be pretty dark, but my mind clearly had other plans since I ended up writing a fluffy little fic about our favorite radio man lmao. I’ll probably write up the angstier fic, too, if this one does well.
Also, the Reader is AFAB, since that’s what I’m comfortable writing for as a girl myself.
. . .
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐,𝟏𝟏𝟓 𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬
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. . . 
The door to Alastor’s manor creaked open for you, and with a grin you took the spare key he gave you from the lock and swung the door fully open to push yourself inside in an attempt to escape from the late winter chill. 
It was a late January night, meaning the serene moonlight washed over the snowy landscape as early as 5:00 P.M., making it dangerous for a lady like yourself to be wandering the streets of New Orleans late at night. 
But it had been months since you really had to worry about anything like that, since you had Alastor by your side to look out for you. Such a sweetheart to you, and a bit of a mama’s boy, too, judging by the pictures set atop the mantle just above the unlit fireplace.
The mere thought of your ever-enthusiastic smiling companion made you especially giddy as you kicked off your winter boots and shrugged your coat off your shoulders, placing it upon the antler-adorned coat rack and skipping past the staircase into the living room. 
Flopping on the couch, you reached over for the radio while cuddling up with a blanket, excited to hear the well-awaited voice of the man who had altered the direction of your life – undoubtedly for the better – and you were practically kicking your feet like a flustered schoolgirl who had received your first confession as Alastor’s voice rang through the small device, loud and clear for you to hear. 
“Good evening, New Orleans!” You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiastic announcer’s voice that he normally used for his radio show, and the first time the two of you had met.
Though, Alastor was more relaxed around you nowadays, seeing no need to keep up the too-cheery facade his listeners had renowned and adored him for. You cherished moments when he was simply relaxed, content with a close-lipped smile and sitting beside you, whether it be reading, playing the piano with you, occasionally even pulling you into a spontaneous dance.
As you listened practically through the entire thing, you began to silently fantasize about your unpredictable yet darling radio host.
“Well, I’m afraid that’s all the time I have tonight, folks! I should be going, now. It's rather bad form to keep my doll waiting at home for me~,” He finished with a soft chuckle.
Blood rushed to your cheeks at that last little comment, practically cursing Alastor for his cheekiness, and he knew that you listened to his shows whenever you could.
"The au-diddly-dacity of that man..."
“Thank you for tuning in! See you next time~...” 
The radio returned to static for a few seconds, before a jaunty little tune began to play through the speakers, and it just so happened to be one of your personal favorites, one that you, no matter what mood, nor what you were doing, couldn't help but jump up and dance to.
And, of course, Alastor knew you loved it.
You sighed with content as you relaxed into his couch cushions, sinking into the blanket that Alastor had laid out for you since he'd found you constantly falling asleep to his voice on the radio when he returned home from work.
A pang of guilt thundered against your chest as your heart strained at the stinging reminder of how much of a burden you really were to Alastor. He was a good man, who helped you out when you were in a tough spot, you should at least repay the favor, right?
I should at least do something nice for him... He's been so good to me, even inviting me over for dinner more times than I can count.
He was the one who offered me that job at the radio station, hell, he even let me off early so I could listen to his show!
With a huff, and a newfound sense of energy, you got to work around the house, tidying up and lighting the fireplace, sparking a candle or two, and keeping the radio playing all throughout the thirty minutes you had spent cleaning, imagining the look on Alastor’s face when he returned.
You had even started on dinner, making a nice pot of venison soup, since it seemed to be his favorite. 
You pushed down the swell in your chest when you heard the doorbell ring, excitedly rushing over to a mirror and sweeping across your face and hair, making sure everything about you was in perfect shape. 
You opened the door, craning your neck a good amount to make eye contact with dark chocolate eyes staring down at you intently, almost illuminated in the moonlight, set against smooth caramel skin beneath a fluff of mocha brown hair.
“Hel-!” 
Alastor’s usual smile was smacked clean off his face at the sight of you standing before him, apron tied across your skirt with a few stains upon it, hair slightly amess but clearly put together.
"-Lo... My dear, what is the meaning of this?..." His tone seemed cheerful enough, if a bit bewildered as his eyes scanned your form once more, stopping upon the apron once again before returning his gaze to yours.
You looked so painfully, so heart throbbingly domestic that it nearly gave him a heart attack when he first opened the door. Such a submissive nature fed into other... primal desires of his that he wasn't fully prepared to delve into.
You smiled sheepishly up at him. "Why don't you come in? I've already started dinner," Alastor's trademark smile quirked his lips upward as he suddenly took your arm and headed inside, practically glowing as he headed straight for the kitchen.
"Oh, no, mister, you stay right there," you winked down at the radio host as you pulled him into a chair. "You've been working so late, let me handle dinner."
You truly piqued Alastor's interest when a familiar scent wafted past his nose, and he eyed you with surprise as you worked in the kitchen, pouring a hot, thick broth from the pot into a small bowl.
As you headed towards him, he tried his best not to absolutely melt in his seat as you served him with a smile, and he carefully took the steaming bowl from your hands. 
Venison, hm? Well don’t mind if I- 
AN: You know that one scene in Ratatouille where that critic takes a bite of his dish, and gets a flashback to when his mom used to cook for him? Imagine that but with Alastor. 
“Is it good?” Your soft, almost worried voice brought him back to reality, and as he met your hopeful, imploring gaze, Alastor nearly choked on his food as heat crept up to his cheeks, burning against his face and ears.
For just a moment, I thought I saw...
With wide eyes, you rushed over to him with a napkin, patting his back and looking over him with concern as his coughing ceased, and he took the cloth with a grateful, slightly wobbly smile. 
  “Was it really that bad...?” Your confidence wavered slightly as you stared down at Alastor, realizing the sudden proximity as electricity raced up your spine and lit your cheeks aflame.
Half-lidded cocoa-brown eyes searched the very depths of your soul, before he shook his head and murmured, "No, quite the opposite. I'm... I'm actually quite thankful for this, tonight." Though, it couldn't have come at a worse possible time, when he was finally squashing any sort of emotions he felt for you into the dirt, only for you to make them froth and rise to the surface yet again.
Why, he hadn't realized how long it had been since anyone had done anything like this for him!
Ah, his dear mama...
He recalled the last dish she ever made for him. Her house-famous Jambalaya that he had adored so much. It even managed to put his father in a good mood.
"A-Al? Alastor? Are you alright...?"
He hadn't even noticed that tears were streaming down his slim cheeks until he felt small droplets falling upon his lap.
"Oh, nothing. This... This all just reminded me of someone..." He shook his head and took his circle-rimmed glasses off his pointed nose, rubbing the fogginess off the glass as the gears turned in your head.
You raised an eyebrow. "Who...?" You then caught a glimpse of the photos set above fireplace just past the couch that faced away from the kitchen. Of course!
Immediate regret washed over you as you fretted over Alastor, apologizing meekly as you attempted to clean up the soup in front of him, but you were stopped as he gripped your wrist.
"I'm so sorry! I never meant to be such a burden, I just really wanted to do something nice for you, s-since you're always-"
"No, please, this has been a delightful surprise, darling." You froze at the pet name, heat creeping over your cheeks and tinging your ears a bright pink as Alastor released his grip upon your hand.
"You have never, never felt like a burden to me. I promise you that," he slid his hand from your wrist to your hand in an act of comfort, but it only served to make your face glow even redder.
"Now I'd like to finish the dinner you made for me. If you don't mind, of course," his usual cheekiness had returned when he spotted your slightly flustered face, and you nodded and returned to your seat promptly.
Alastor, being ever the chatterbox, resurrected the flowing conversation between you two for a good hour, as he recalled stories from his childhood, keeping you entertained throughout your dinner. Your laughter filled the hallway, your smile both wounding and freeing his heart, while you sat, mesmerized at his captivating storytelling and how he spoke with his hands, practically alight as he drank in each expression you gave him.
"Would you care for a dance, darling?" Alastor spoke up suddenly, the contents of his bowl completely gone as you eyed it. You shyly agreed as he smiled gently and pulled you into the living room.
Soft caramel brown hands wrapped around yours as Alastor's slender fingers held you close in a surprisingly tight grip against him, and you could feel the rise and fall of his chest, along with his rapidly beating heart despite his suave demeanor as he slowly danced along with you to one of the songs that had begun playing on the radio beside the fireplace.
Nothing but your dear friend's soft humming along with the sounds of the radio filled the silence between you in the moment, and you began to relax in his grip as you lazily kept up with his slow steps.
Put your head on my shoulder~
A slow dance between you two, with an occasional twirl as Alastor nearly swept you off your feet swept the minutes away, until the moon was well past the horizon and twilight fell upon the sky.
As he spun you around once more, a sudden gust of air swept past the pair of you, nearly blowing out the candle beside you.
Hold me in your arms, baby...
Alastor's eyes widened at the sight of a petite, elderly woman standing beside the doorway into the kitchen, watching the two of you intently, until her form faded from the door with a shimmer of light and a gentle smile.
Squeeze me oh-so tight, show me...
He gulped softly at the sight of the angel while you stared into his eyes, completely fixated upon his surprised open-mouthed stare as his gaze flickered from behind you to your lips.
You barely missed his darkening expression as you both began to sway slowly once again.
Show me, that you love me, too~...
"Would you like to stay the night, darling?" For the first time in his life, Alastor seemed unsure, maybe even nervous, as his dark brows creased together and his charming smile twitched at the corners of his lips. You smiled and reached up to smooth out the crease with your fingers.
You had no idea how he warred with himself, knowing that he'd be practically signing his soul away simply to be in your company.
Put your lips next to mine, dear~...
But... Perhaps this would be worth it.
Perhaps moments like these, when time slowed, where you both could block out the rest of the world and simply bask in each other's company would be worth the risk.
Won't you kiss me once, baby~?
Alastor had decided, right then and there as you stared up at him with nothing but adoration.
He'd have you. He had to. He was damned either way, but he'd storm the pearly gates themselves if he failed to drag you down with him.
Just a kiss goodnight, maybe...?
But, with immense relief, Alastor realized wouldn't take much persuasion as your eyes seemed to twinkle beside the flickering candlelight, and a gentle yet teasing smile played at your lips.
You and I will fall in love...
"Yes, I'd like that very much, Alastor."
. . . 
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𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Okay, I KNOW that 'Put Your Head On My Shoulder' was released in the 50s, BUT LET'S PRETEND IT WAS THE 20s, OKAY???
Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this first post, I might write a part two if the people want one. Maybe Alastor headcanons?? Who knows...
Let's just see how far this goes lmao.
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wheresarizona · 2 months
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Learning to Live Part 31
summary: Mondays are Javier’s least favorite day. Add in he has a meeting he’s doing as a favor to the Sheriff that he doesn’t want to do, and the day was destined to be shitty. But things take a turn for the better that morning when he gets a text message from his fiancée that reads: Need u bad. Lunch? ;)
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (about ten years), explicit smut, Protective Javier Peña, Angry Javier Peña (not at you), Switch Javier Peña (there’s subby Javi as a treat). first smut: masturbation (f), vibrators, accidental voyeurism, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, **BREEDING** (an actual attempt at babymaking). second smut: dry humping, coming in pants, semi-public sex? (it happens in a hospital). in both: dirty talk, praise | discussion of pregnancy, dysfunctional family, insults, yelling, arguing, angst with a happy ending, Javier meets your parents for the first time, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional hurt/comfort, Javier going off)
pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (a nurse with no physical descriptions)
word count: 16k
a/n: The dirty talk in this one makes me 🫠🫠🫠. This chapter is something a lot of people have been waiting for. Thank you to everyone who comments and reblogs! I try to reply to them all, and if I miss any, it’s not on purpose and I’m sorry! The love so many people have for this silly story of mine makes me literally 😭😭😭. So, THANK YOU. We’ve got about nine chapters left after this one (could become more). Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for giving this a look over and ensuring my Spanish is correct. I love you.
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
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The New Year started with Javier’s big hands caressing your face as he kissed you, the Times Square ball having dropped on the nearby television in your best friend’s living room, where you were attending a party. He had tasted like cherry and orange jello from the Tequila Sunrise jello shot you convinced him to take with you a minute before midnight and smelled like his spicy cologne; the familiar scent had made you feel warm and safe—it had made you feel at home.
Javier Peña was your home.
He was your always and forever, the sun shining after it rained, a warm, cozy blanket on a cold day, the bright star that guides you through the darkness, and the greatest love you would ever have.
And he belonged to you as you belonged to him.
The New Year started with a kiss—one full of promises for the months ahead and shared hopes and dreams; your lips pressed together and moving in sync, silently proclaiming to the other your insurmountable love and undying devotion. And when it had ended, you wore matching grins, Javi's cheeks tinted in a lovely pink flush, his perfect full lips glistening under the room's lights from saliva while his beautiful chocolate-colored eyes gazed tenderly into yours, and he said, "Happy New Year, Cielito. I know it's gonna be a great fucking year because I have you—my best friend, the love of my life, and in ten days, my wife.”
Monday, January 4, started like any other Monday—the alarm going off and your fiancé hitting the snooze button so he could pull you into his arms and get nine minutes of uninterrupted cuddling in before the incessant beeping went off again. When your time was up, he sometimes, like this morning, grumbled as he moved to turn it off, "Fucking hate Mondays." This was why his coffee mug had Garfield the cat on it with a speech bubble containing the same sentiment, just without the cursing, but let’s be real, if that orange cartoon cat wasn’t censored, he’d absolutely say ‘fuck.’
In December, Javier’s prima (cousin) Alma—his tío’s (uncle’s) daughter and sister to Sebastián—was home from college and introduced you to something the kids had started doing: texting. You found this new form of communication came in handy when you were busy and didn’t have time to talk, like right this second as you stood in a storage room at work an hour into your shift with a bag of saline in your hand, your cell phone in the other sending Javi a message.
Your thumb punched the numbers on the keypad, typing: Need u bad. Lunch? ;)
The phone went back into your scrub pants pocket, and you started grabbing the other supplies you needed from the shelves. Seconds later, ringing sounded, making you sigh and have to juggle what you held into one arm to fish your cell phone out again, seeing he was calling from his office phone. You pressed the accept button, the device going to your ear as you answered in exasperation, “Why do you always call instead of texting back?”
“Because talking is easier than trying to type shit out with the keypad,” Javier replied. “Why do you send messages when you know I’m just going to call you?”
“My naive hope that you’ll get I’m too busy to talk.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll make it quick—is this a regular lunch quickie, or is it finally time…?” He sounded hopeful.
“With how I’m feeling a little crampy and insanely horny this morning, I’m pretty sure it’s time—like, the horniness is bad enough there’s no way I can wait until work is over.”
There was noticeable excitement in his voice. “Apartment or truck?”
As tempting as the truck was, you weren’t in the mood for the risk.
“Home.”
“Got it, and why is there extra punctuation after the question? Is it code or something? Should I know what it means?”
“Turn the phone sideways, and it looks like a winking face—I was trying to be flirty and cute with my request for dick.”
“Huh, I guess it does kinda look like a face…”
“I have to get back to work, babe. We’re meeting at home on lunch for you to fuck my brains out, got it?”
“Yes, Cielito—home on lunch to fuck a baby into you.”
“Perfect. Love you, bye.”
“Love you, too. Bye, mi amor (my love).”
The device was put away, and you double-checked you got everything you needed for the new patient who’d just been brought to your department to recover from surgery. While in the patient’s room setting up their IV, you felt your pocket vibrate. After ensuring your new occupant was comfortable and not in need of anything, you left the room, looking at your phone as you walked down the hall and finding you had an unread text from Javi that you opened:
I love you and im excited for lunch ;)
It made you smile, and you replied back: Love u too. cant wait to see u <3
A few minutes after getting back to work, you felt the vibration of another message from him that ended up containing a question: What does <3 mean?
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Robyn got a rushed 'See you in an hour' as you left for lunch in a hurry.
You didn't have road rage—it was more road annoyance when people were driving below the speed limit, didn't go as soon as the light turned green, or cut you off like that asshole who worked over at the hardware store did; what was his name? Jimmy? Jerry? Terry? It didn’t matter; he got a raised middle finger. When you pulled into your parking space at the apartment complex, Javi's spot beside yours was empty, and you booked it inside, kicking off your shoes once you got through the door, throwing your purse onto the console table in the entryway, along with your keys.
The thought of leaving the front door unlocked for Javi was squashed almost immediately with the reminder of him telling you always to keep it locked when he wasn't home—so you locked it, the deadbolt turning with a click.
When you told him you were insanely horny, it wasn’t an exaggeration—the horniness had your heartbeat pulsating in your cunt and made the scrubs you were wearing feel stifling over your heated skin, needing them off as soon as possible; your mind was consumed with all of the dirty things Javi could do to ease the ache between your legs—his thick fingers pushing into you and crooking them to hit that one spot only he could reach; his hips pounding into you from behind while rubbing your clit just right to make you come around him; his talented tongue and mouth working you over, licking and sucking on your wet heat with the finesse of a man devouring his first meal in weeks; his cock fucking into you nice and slow, feeling the stretch you couldn’t replicate with your fingers or a toy.
All those thoughts had you wanting Javier with every fiber of your being, and each passing second he wasn’t there was driving you crazy.
Walking toward the bedroom, you removed your clothes as you went, shimmying out of your pants, pushing down and off your panties, your blue scrub shirt getting tugged over your head next, followed by your white tank top, and finally, upon entering the room, your bra was unsnapped, and gravity took it to the floor, leaving behind a trail of garments that’d lead your fiancé to you buck naked and wanting.
You crawled onto the bed Javi had made that morning, the navy blue duvet decorated in golden suns, moons, and bright white stars. The burning ache at the apex of your thighs was begging to be assuaged by any means necessary, and with the absence of the person you wanted more than anything, it was up to you to take off the edge until he arrived.
Pulling open your bedside table drawer, you got out your small bullet vibrator and got comfortable lying down with your head on a pillow and slightly spreading your legs—cold air hit the slick-coated skin on your inner thighs and the lips of your sex, making you shiver. The toy hummed to life with the click of a button, your eyes closing as you slid it along your wet folds, the thrumming igniting sparks of arousal in your belly. You were imagining Javi on top of you, his hips pinning you to the mattress with his dick buried inside you, thrusting deep while his tongue was in your mouth—your jaw went slack, and your spine stiffened when you circled the vibe around your swollen clit, the sharp bolt of pleasure shooting to your core causing you to gasp.
The excitement in your pelvis was growing, moving the waves of vibrations side to side over your sensitive nub, fanning the flames of arousal in your center. You were so turned on your orgasm was building quickly, your nipples tightening, the heat in your abdomen spreading out from your groin, and getting hotter by the second. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and sweat was beginning to bead on your forehead, your thighs shaking as you envisioned Javier fucking you.
“Javi,” you moaned.
“I’m here, baby,” came his deep rasp. Your eyes flew open as you gasped, jolting in surprise.
He was standing at the end of the bed in his charcoal grey suit pants and a white dress shirt gaping at the neck from the three or so buttons he’d undone. His jacket and the red-patterned tie he’d left for work wearing were nowhere to be seen—there was a noticeable bulge at the front of his slacks, his pupils blown wide, his hungry gaze feasting on you spread out in front of him while he rolled up his sleeves to reveal the golden skin of his forearms, the overhead light glinting off of the face of the silver Rolex watch on his wrist you’d gotten him for Christmas.
Seeing him there in the flesh had such a strong spike of arousal cutting through you that you were unable to stop your desperate moan of his name. “I need you,” you whined, lifting the vibrator from yourself and turning it off in preference of having him instead. “I need you to fuck me—right now, Javier.”
His big hand was stroking over his straining length beneath his pants, his eyes locked on your glistening center. He licked his lips like he was imagining what you’d taste like. “You weren’t lying about being insanely horny, Cielito,” he said, not moving his gaze from between your thighs. “Look at how wet you are—how needy your pussy is for me. You want my dick, hermosa (beautiful)? You want my come?”
“Yes,” you answered, nodding your head.
“You can have it, Cielito.” You squeaked in surprise when he grabbed your ankles and roughly pulled you toward him to have your ass at the edge of the mattress. “—in a minute,” he continued and dropped to his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders.
He eagerly dove in, running the flat of his tongue through your slit to gather your wetness with an appreciative hum. It felt so good, your lip was pulled between your teeth, and your fingers curled into his hair, moaning as he lapped at your cunt.
The tip of his beautiful nose rubbed your clit with every drag of his plush mouth along your pussy, causing shocks of electricity to course through your wet core, your eyes rolling back, and the pleasure building inside you. His groans were vibrating against your sensitive skin, his tongue dipping into your opening before moving up to tease your bundle of nerves—flicking at it side to side, over and over again.
Your fists tightened in his hair. “Javi,” you whimpered. “God, it’s so good.”
There was something about someone enthusiastically going down on you that made the act a million times better—your past boyfriends would only do it if you asked, or they felt they had to because you gave them a blow job. But Javier? This man wanted to eat you out. He craved your taste; he loved getting you off with his mouth. You were pretty sure if he could, he’d live with his face shoved in your cunt, and you loved hearing how much he was enjoying himself; his moans making it sound like you were the one pleasuring him.
The horniness and using the vibrator had you so worked up that adding in Javi eating your pussy like it was his favorite meal had you cresting in hardly any time at all—your insides knotting up, winding tighter and tighter until the tension shattered and you came with a gasp of his name, relishing the euphoria that washed over you. His tongue went down to your entrance, licking up every bit of your release he could get, not missing a single drop.
The orgasm was nice, but it was more of an appetizer—it got you into the mood and even more excited for the main course that was getting his cock inside you so you’d finally be relieved of the aching emptiness in your core.
You let go of his hair, your words coming out hoarse, “Can I have your dick now?”
He let your legs fall off his shoulders and rose with a crooked grin, his mustache and the bottom half of his face wet with your juices. He started undoing his belt. “I’m sorry for making you wait,” he said, popping open the button on his slacks and pulling down the zipper. “I wanted to make sure I got you off first.” He shoved the pants and white boxer briefs down his legs, his cock springing free under the hem of his dress shirt.
Sitting up on your elbows, you smiled at him. “A gentleman,” you replied with a wink. “I’ll take it you’re unbelievably excited about possibly getting me pregnant, and you don’t think you’ll be able to last? Which, no shame—it flatters me when you’re so jazzed about fucking me you bust a nut sooner than you wanted.”
He snorted. “Yeah, I’m excited.” He looked down, lifting the bottom of his shirt with one hand and spitting onto the fingers of the other, using them to slick up his throbbing length and making it shine in the lights of the room. “I’m really fucking excited.” He hooked his left arm under your knee and pulled you a little closer as he stepped forward with his dick in his right hand, pumping it a couple of times and pressing the tip to your soaked hole. “I love you,” the last word devolved into a groan as he pushed forward, sliding all the way home inside your cunt until he was balls deep.
The moment he breached your entrance, your mouth fell open at the delicious stretch your tight walls had to make for him to fit; your breaths went ragged, and your fingers clutched the duvet at the fullness. This was what you wanted. This was what you needed, feeling him so deep inside you that you were sure if he went any deeper, he’d nudge your spleen.
Your eyes had closed, and you fell back, the first sound escaping your lips coming out as a trembling whisper of his name. Javi went completely still for some seconds to calm himself down before he got his arms under each of your knees to spread you wide.
His voice was huskier when he spoke. “This what you needed, mi amor?” he asked. “My cock? Need me to fill this perfect pussy with my come? Need me to fuck it so deep I get you pregnant?”
“Yes,” you moaned.
“I’ll make you a mother, Cielito,” he said in a sure tone.
That statement had you clenching around him, Javi hissing. He audibly swallowed.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “It’s fucking embarrassing how close I am.”
You huffed in amusement, your mouth dry and sweat forming on your brow. “You riled yourself up while riling me up—you played yourself.”
“Don’t give me shit.”
Opening your eyes, his broad figure was looming over you with a grumpy look on his perfect face, his dark eyes on yours.
“I’m not giving you shit, Javi,” you said. “I love it—now, hurry up and fuck me, so we’ll be parents in nine months.”
That seemed to kick him into gear, Javi pulling out almost all the way and slamming back in hard enough to push the air from your lungs, setting up a hard, fast pace that had your mouth forming a perfect ‘O.’ He was pounding into you, grunting with each thrust, and stuttering your moans—it was so amazing, arousal was seeping from your cunt and down his shaft, hearing him working his dick in and out of your sopping hole and the harsh slap of his balls against your skin.
Heat was growing at the base of your spine, your thoughts consumed with how good he was fucking you and the fact there was a chance he could knock you up—that alone had you speeding toward another orgasm.
Ever since the first time Javier told you he loved you, his preference in sex positions had changed—before, it was backshots, railing you from behind to the point he had you incoherent and drooling. Now, it was anything face to face for the intimacy and wanting to kiss you, which was so unbelievably sweet.
A newer development that you’d noticed not too long ago was he liked having access to your breasts—he was still an ass man, but there’d been an uptick in titty action, like at this moment with him wrapping your legs around his waist so he could lean down to suck your nipple between his lips while he palmed your other breast, his hips never waning from their brutal onslaught.
His tongue laved at your stiff peak, sucking and licking it and causing lightning to shoot straight to your core, the volume of your moans increasing. The hot pleasure curling in your gut made you move your hands into his hair, your legs squeezed tight around his hips.
His cock was pushing in and out of you, filling you over and over again, his mouth moving to your other nipple to give it the same attention while his fingers pinched and rolled the first—he had your pussy weeping for him, your slick escaping where you were joined, dripping down between your asscheeks as he fucked you into the mattress.
You were almost there. The muscles in your stomach were tensing in preparation for your release.
You wanted to kiss, and he got the message when you pulled his head up by the hair, his lips smashing against yours, holding his weight on his arms beside your head. The kiss was messy, with your tongues tangling and teeth clattering, sharing breaths, his body taking up your vision. You were lost in it all and all of him, Javier becoming the only thing you could think about, the two of you in your own little world, where nothing else mattered except each other.
When you needed air, your mouth blazed a sloppy trail of kisses along his jaw to his neck, his breathing getting shallower and rhythm jerky, knowing he was close—you sucked on the taut skin of his throat hard enough to leave a mark, and it made him whine, the sound going straight to your cunt.
“I’m gonna come inside you,” he said in a breathy rumble, the deep timbre of his voice making your scalp tingle. “I’m gonna—shit—I’m gonna fuck a baby into you.” It was your turn to whine. “I’m gonna fill you up, keep you stuffed until it—fuck—until it takes.” He sounded totally and completely wrecked.
Your words were muffled into his neck, “Y-Yes, Javi—give it to me. Fuck a baby into me.”
“I wanna,” he groaned, “I wanna see you pregnant with my child.” He wasn’t going to last much longer; his strokes were getting sloppier, and he’d hit the point of being so close that he rambled. “I wanna see your body change—your tits get bigger with milk.” His dick twitched hard inside you. “You’ll be so fucking beautiful—fuck—so fucking beautiful carrying my baby.” He was panting. “I love you so much—please don’t leave—please don’t ever leave me.”
You grabbed his cheeks and passionately kissed him, saying into his lips, “I’m never gonna leave you—I love you—I love you,” you repeated with more emphasis. “I’m yours—I’ll always be yours. Put a baby in me, Javi—fuck your come deep.”
That did him in.
His groan was ragged as he broke the kiss to shove his face into your neck—his teeth were bared, his hot breaths fanning against your skin, his pace going frantic.
“Yes, yes, yes,” was gasped from your lips, chanting the word like a prayer. “Come in me,” you practically beg.
His hips bucked into you one last time, pushing his cock in as deep as it could go inside you, feeling it thicken and jerk as he came, gushing inside you with a rumbling moan. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, the pleasurable pain making you gasp, feeling the hot flood of his come painting your insides. His hips were rolling to fuck it deeper, catching you off guard when he suddenly shifted his weight onto one arm to shove his other hand down between your bodies to rub your sensitive clit.
There was a quivering in your belly, a quaking that spread out to make your arms and legs tremble, his fingers circling, stroking, over and over again.
“Come for me,” he murmured against your ear. “Let me have it.”
You hit your tipping point, falling over the edge with an unintelligible cry—the surge of pleasure that bursted from your core had your hips jerking and your pussy spasming around him, Javi’s head falling against your shoulder with a strangled groan of good girl because you were squeezing him like a vice.
Now, this was one of those orgasms that consumed your entire being, taking you apart piece by piece until you were nothing but an incoherent, blissed-out puddle of a person who couldn’t even remember their own name.
A body slumped onto you, welcoming the familiar weight, the only sounds in the room being the hum of the air conditioning and panted breaths of the two inhabitants. It was reflex that had your fingers pressing into his slightly sweat-damp hair and rubbing your fingertips along his scalp—he made a pleased sound in the back of his throat.
Seconds pass, then some minutes, it was Javi who spoke first, grumbling with his face now in the crook of your neck, “I don’t wanna go back to fucking work.”
The reminder that your workday wasn’t over made you whine ‘No’ dramatically.
His hand, not above your head, rubbed along your ribs. “I know, baby—it’s shitty.”
“Why did we think a lunch quickie was a good idea?”
“Was there any thinking…?” he questioned.
“God, you’re so right. We suspected I was ovulating and immediately jumped to ‘We need to fuck right now.’ Zero planning whatsoever. An error was made when we assumed it’d be like our usual sexy lunchtime shenanigans.”
He hummed in agreement. “Was it better than normal for you, too…?”
“Um, yes—apparently, actual babymaking sex is another level of amazing.”
“It really is.” He held up his wrist so you could look at his watch. “How much time do we have?”
“Not enough for you to shower or either of us to eat—we probably should’ve gotten up like five minutes ago.”
“Fuck,” he said. Javi groaned as he pushed himself up to stand, a hiss slipping through his teeth when he pulled himself out of you.
Sitting up on your elbows, his attention was focused on the swollen lips between your thighs, his come starting to dribble from your used hole. You spread your legs a little wider for him to get a better look.
“So fucking pretty,” he mused, his hand moving without a second thought to catch his leaking spend on two fingers and press it back inside you. “Not letting a drop go to waste, mi amor.” His eyes met yours, laying his free hand low on your belly over your womb. He smiled. “A couple of weeks from now, you could be pregnant.”
You shared his happy expression. “We are going to fuck so much that your dick is going to hurt by the end of this week—might even get chafed.”
He grimaced. “Why are you excited about that?”
Reaching, you pressed a palm to his cheek. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ll ice it for you.”
“That doesn’t make it any better…”
“It’s a sacrifice we must make to knock me up.”
He pulled his fingers out. “Sacrifice we have to make? I’m the one making the sacrifice…”
Your eyebrow lifted. “Okay, and what about the sacrifice I have to make with my body growing a tiny human from practically nothing, sharing said body with them for nine months, then having to go through probably the most excruciating pain of my entire life to push them out of my vagina, Javier? Still think you’re the only one making a sacrifice by being uncomfortable for a couple of days after contributing your pleasurable 1% to our group project, that I will be doing 99% of the work on?”
His eyes had rounded, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Right,” he said and cleared his throat. “I’m fine with the dick discomfort—I’m sorry, cariño (sweetheart).” He rubbed your bicep with his clean hand. “Can I get you some water?” He checked his watch. “Fuck it, I’ll go back to the office late. I don’t have a meeting for another half an hour anyway—I’m gonna make you lunch to take to work.” He bent to pull up his underwear and slacks he didn’t bother buttoning up and leaned to give you a quick kiss. “I just need to wash up real fast—I love you. Thank you.” He pecked you on the lips again.
“I love you, too—you don’t have to make me food,” you said as he retreated to the bathroom. “I’m not mad at you.”
“I know you’re not mad,” he replied over his shoulder, “but I’m still making my wife and the future mother of my children food because I love her and appreciate everything she does for me.”
You gasped in pretend shock. “You’re married?!” you exclaimed. “I’m sleeping with a married man?!”
He stopped in the bathroom doorway and turned your way with a look that said he was done with your shit, and it made you grin.
“You will be in seven days,” he replied.
You got up from the mattress on shaky legs, walking toward him.
“Does your wife know that?”
“Cielito?”
“Yes, Javier?”
“I’m fucking you in seven days—mark it on your calendar.”
That made you giggle. “If I scheduled all the times we fuck, there wouldn’t be any empty days on the calendar.”
You were close to him.
“Probably.” He shrugged. “But next Monday is special.”
“Is that so?” you asked, finally in his space and wrapping your arms around his shirt-covered middle. He hugged you back, looking you in the eyes with a smile.
“Yeah,” he answered, “‘cause it’ll be the first time I fuck you as my lawfully wedded wife.”
“Should I expect sex to be different as Mrs. Javier Peña?”
He nodded. “It’ll be better.”
And before the lunch quickie, you’d just had, you would’ve told him that was impossible. However, now, you thought he was right; that as your relationship continued to grow and evolve, so would you both, and it’d affect something like your sex life, hopefully, positively as each year passed. It felt like you won the lottery that this kind, sweet, caring, respectful, incredible man loved you and would no doubt ensure sex with him was nothing less than spectacular.
“Well, Mr. Peña, I’m excited for you to make an honest woman out of me.”
His head moved, hovering his lips over yours, feeling his breath as he spoke in a low husk, “I’m excited to be your husband and share my last name with you, Mrs. Peña—I love you.”
“I love you, too—kiss me,” you whispered.
He nudged his nose against yours. “As you wish, mi amor—I promise to kiss you every day for as long as I live.” He pressed his lips to yours, kissing you tenderly.
Robyn was going to give you so much shit for returning to work late…
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Javier didn’t mind Mondays when he was in Colombia.
To be honest, during his first stint trying to get Pablo Escobar, he was working so much his days blended together, and he didn’t know the date until he looked at a calendar in the office or Steve told him. As attaché, Mondays were the start of his week, and if he happened to have Sunday or the whole weekend off, he was still doing work at home and couldn’t wait to get back to the office—Monday mornings were used to plan out and go over his week’s schedule with his staff, the rest of the day he attended required meetings and when he had time, assessing where they were at in their operation and strategizing next steps.
He’d been too consumed with his job to take a break or relax over the weekend. it wasn’t something he would’ve wanted to do anyway because it’d mean he’d be alone with his thoughts, and who’d want that? Thinking about all of the mistakes he’d made, how much he fucked up and let his family down, mulling over how alone and miserable he felt—obsessing about his work meant there wasn’t time to think about those things, so Mondays were always welcome.
His life had changed since then.
Drastically.
Now, he looked forward to the weekend.
It meant a full forty-eight hours he got to spend with the most amazing woman he loved more than anything. It was forty-eight hours full of love, happiness, and contentment. He could actually relax with her, let his guard down, and just be himself.
The weekend was sacred, and he hated waking up on Monday morning, knowing he'd have to be away from his media naranja (soulmate) for at least forty hours over the next five days.
It was safe to say that Javier wasn't the jolliest of people when the alarm clock went off at the start of the week; it was such a common occurrence Cielito often compared him to Garfield, the cat.
He felt he'd done some good work since starting at the Sheriff's office a while back. The narcotics unit, he advised, had managed to do double the busts and arrests than the previous year, the DEA practically frothing at the mouth over the amount of drugs, weapons, and dirty money they’d seized. The agent in charge of their region, who he’d previously butted heads with, had even commended him on their last call. His notoriety was known enough he’d lost count of how many offers he'd gotten to do lectures and the number of agencies in Texas and across the country who had tried to poach him at most or get him to do short-term freelance consulting at minimum.
Basically, there were a lot of people who wanted to pick his brain and/or talk about his time with the DEA.
His, was it, popularity? In the drug enforcement circles and public knowledge of his efforts in Colombia had led to an interesting phenomenon, the Sheriff loved and Javier hated. Philanthropists, sometimes businesses, a lot of the times just individuals, many of whom weren’t even from the area, wanted to donate decent sums of money to the various anti-drug and addiction treatment programs the Sheriff's office and county, in general, ran with the caveat of discussing where their money was going with someone who fought in the War on Drugs.
Him.
Most of the time when he met with these 'philanthropists,' they just wanted to hear stories about Pablo Escobar and the Cali cartel that weren't reported in the mainstream media, or in other words, Javier had to schmooze.
Javier hated schmoozing.
He absolutely fucking hated all the ass kissing he had to do with higher-ups as attaché, and he sure as fuck, didn't like having to do it now with people who had more money than god and a morbid curiosity about two of the biggest, most violent cartels in recent history.
He could decline these meetings if he wanted—Sheriff Arturo told him it was completely his choice if he took them or not. Obviously, his preference would be the latter, but he cared about his community and checked into it to confirm the donations were being used as intended, so he figured it was worth an hour of his time every once in a while.
This morning, he'd been extra annoyed it was Monday because he was scheduled to meet with one of these potential donors who was from Dallas or somewhere else in the state; he wasn't actually paying attention the prior week when Joy, the Sheriff's assistant who also helped out Javier sometimes, was giving him the information due to the fact seconds before she walked into his office he'd gotten a message on his phone from his wi-fiancée that read:
Can I blow u on lunch?
And he’d needed Joy to leave so he could call Cielito to give her an emphatic yes, with the stipulation he could eat her out for his afternoon meal instead of the sandwich she made him. All that’d registered when his, kind of, assistant was talking were the date and time for the meeting he hastily scribbled down on his yellow legal pad.
Since it was the beginning of a new week and having the meeting on his agenda, he didn’t have much hope for it being a good day, and then his phone vibrated with a text message from his soon-to-be wife:
Need u bad. Lunch? ;)
See, in the week after they came home from Miami, they had an in-depth conversation about starting their family—yes, they both had already enthusiastically agreed to try for a baby, but Cielito wanted to manage his expectations and ensure he understood the statistics, risks, and tragic possibilities he didn’t even want to think about, yet needed to be aware of.
That night, he’d gotten out his mother’s rosary for the first time in a while, sat on the edge of the bathtub in the locked bathroom, and had a quiet conversation with her about how happy and ecstatic he was, along with his new fears and worries, making a tearful request for her to please watch over them. He wasn’t religious by any means and didn’t see a point in praying to some all-powerful being that possibly existed and, if so, had more serious matters in the world to attend to, but Javier knew his mom would care if she was listening, and it comforted him, thinking she was, and that she would watch over them.
Another thing his fiancée had done was try and pinpoint when they actually had a chance of conceiving, and that was how he found out she’d begun keeping track of her periods when they started dating, her reasoning:
‘I thought you didn’t want kids, so I made sure I could catch any surprises as quickly as possible to give us time to figure out what we wanted to do, then I found out you’re actually pro-kids and knew the data would come in handy when we decided to go for it, and I was right.”
She was right, she was always right, though, and had marked possible dates their chances were high on the Star Wars-themed wall calendar in the kitchen—January’s picture was a still from the first movie of Darth Vader interrogating Princess Leia in her cell on the Death Star—and Javier had been waiting for the prospective days with almost the same amount of glee as their impending nuptials.
Today was a possibility, and getting her text message and having her confirm over the phone her telling symptoms had him fist pumping with an excited ‘Yes!’ when he hung up.
His day had completely turned around, and he wasn’t even bothered about his afternoon meeting because he was on top of the world and beyond happy about the possibility of becoming a father.
He’d been vibrating with so much excitement he couldn't even focus on his work, and there were some important reports he needed to go over and create; he also had a few files on some recent busts one of the guys on the narcotics team wanted him to look over to see if Javier noticed the same things he did without disclosing what they were—he’d be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued.
Over the months he’d been with the Sheriff’s office, they’d had some leads on how the drugs were crossing the border from Mexico into Laredo, but they all ended up being dead ends. They knew what cartel was supplying; however, they didn’t know the link that was getting them into the US, and it bothered him so fucking much. Every person they caught and interrogated either wouldn’t say anything because they feared what the cartel would do or didn’t know shit, and had the same story that they got a call from an unknown number that gave them a location to pick up what was usually a vehicle with the drugs hidden inside along with their cash payment, and a destination where they needed to take it—generally, random parking lots they’d abandon the cars in. The narcotics team had attempted numerous times to get one of the traffickers to wait for their next call and report the specifics in order to conduct a sting, but once they were arrested, they were never contacted again or, in some cases, mysteriously disappeared; the assumption was they either fled to Mexico, or the sicarios got them.
It also didn't help that the town police department wasn't very forthcoming with their drug arrests and made getting their reports a pain in the ass—apparently, this only became an issue when Javier came on board as a consultant, which told him the person making their life difficult was the Laredo Police Department Chief, who also happened to be Lorraine's uncle.
That fucking family.
Since he'd been too amped to work, the time leading up to the lunch hour was spent going through the catalogs he had delivered to the office he hid in his desk drawer, containing baby stuff—clothes, toys, furniture, and making notes of the things he liked or needed to call Connie about to get her opinion.
The lunchtime quickie that ended up not being very quick was better than he ever could have imagined; it was so fucking fantastic that it easily made his top three Greatest Fucks—the other two were the sex on his birthday last month and the first time they fucked after they confessed their love on the kitchen floor—and it had him itching for the end of the workday to go home, and do it again, and probably again after that. It seemed Cielito wasn’t wrong about the probability of his dick hurting by the end of the week, and after some perspective (her gentle reminder of her sacrifices), it was something he was more than okay with—he was looking forward to it, actually.
He'd made her a cheese quesadilla and cut up some apple slices for her to take back to work and eaten his own before he left the apartment.
Javier had fussed with his clothes and hair to ensure it wasn’t obvious what he’d been doing the past hour and thought he did a pretty good job. He arrived at work ten minutes before his meeting and stopped by Joy’s desk, located outside Sheriff Arturos’s office, to get any messages he may have missed. The Sheriff was standing at his door talking to her in his uniform of a short-sleeved khaki shirt and army green pants, his gold Sheriff star badge gleaming under the overhead lights.
The older man’s dark eyes landed on him as he approached, the expression on his face turning to amusement.
“Parece que tuviste un buen almuerzo (Looks like you had a good lunch),” the Sheriff said.
His eyebrows furrowed. “¿Por qué dices eso (Why do you say that)...?”
Arturo tapped the side of his neck with his finger. “Ella te marcó (She marked you).”
Javier knew the exact spot, his hand instinctively moving to cover it. His attention went to Joy, who looked just as amused as the Sheriff. “How bad is it?” he asked her as he uncovered it.
She peered up at him through her wire-rimmed glasses, examining the spot. “She got you good, but you’ve had worse,” she answered. This was something that had happened many times before. “I can cover it up for your meeting if you want.”
He usually didn’t care about walking around with hickies on his neck—he actually loved that it broadcasted he was with someone. Unfortunately, there were some instances where he needed to look professional, and Joy would help by covering the marks with makeup Cielito had given her.
Checking his watch, the people would be arriving any minute. “There’s no time,” he sighed. “I’ll get my messages after the meeting—thank you!” He started walking to his office down the hall.
He’d made sure his desk didn’t look messy, keeping a legal pad and his pen at the ready, his suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair, and he had some program brochures in case whoever he was meeting with wanted them. He was sitting, absentmindedly thinking about what kind of flowers he’d bring home to his fiancée, leaning towards a bouquet of colorful tulips or there’d been a pink rose and lilies arrangement he saw last week he thought was really pretty, she’d like.
His desk phone rang, and he picked up the receiver, answering, “Peña.”
“Your appointment has arrived, Mr. Peña,” Joy said on the other line. “Are you ready for them?”
“Sure,” he replied. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.” There was a lot he could do instead of regaling people with stories from the worst years of his life.
“We’re on our way.” She hung up, and so did he, Javier standing up from his chair.
Joy appeared at his doorway, holding out her arm to direct the newcomers inside, as she said, “Right this way.”
Three nicely dressed people walked in, two men and a woman, Javier stepped around his desk to shake the first man’s hand—he was much older than Javier, giving him a firm handshake.
“Thank you for meeting with us, Javier,” the man said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes—he had an air about him that he knew he was the richest and most important person in the room; so, snobby. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
“From someone I know?” Javier figured it was an agent at the DEA.
“I believe so,” he answered. “We can talk about that in a minute—this is my wife.” He looked at the woman beside him, and Javier shook her hand. She was probably ten to fifteen years younger than her husband, dressed in clothes and jewelry that had to be worth more than he made in a year—she wasn’t smiling. It was obvious from her expression that she was disappointed in what she was seeing and unimpressed, Javier cringing when her eyes zeroed in on his neck.
This was going to go so well.
Maybe she was expecting someone older who looked more experienced?
“It’s nice to meet you,” Javier said with a polite smile. He let go of her hand. “I didn’t get either of your names?”
The man spoke, “Call us…” he paused. “John,” he finally answered, “and Jane.”
“Okay… John and Jane…?”
“Doe.”
Fake names. “So, you want to be anonymous donors…?”
It had happened before; however, in those instances, they did tell him their names and just requested they be listed as anonymous.
“Precisely—you’re a smart guy, Javier,” John said, with a smile that wasn’t sincere and the comment coming off as condescending, making Javier’s teeth clench.
“Right…”
“Well—” John clapped his hands together once. “—let’s talk business.”
There was still the other man behind them—tall, gangly, balding, probably about John’s age, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a black suit, holding a briefcase—a lawyer if he had to guess, which wasn’t odd when there were large sums of money involved.
“I’ll take it the gentleman accompanying you is your lawyer?” he asked.
“Yes.”
They obviously weren’t going to introduce the guy to Javier, so he walked around them and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Javi,” he said, “and you are?”
“Gerald,” he answered, shaking his hand.
He smiled. “Nice to meet you, Gerald.” Javier moved to close his office door. “Please, have a seat,” he told the room as he made his way to his desk. “Sorry, I only have two chairs, but I can have Joy bring in a third.”
He sat down in his, the couple taking seats in the two chairs in front of his desk.
“That won’t be necessary,” John said, waving away his offer. “Jerry is fine standing.”
Javier looked up at the man in question standing behind them. “Would you like a seat, Gerald?”
“I’m fine,” he answered.
Javier nodded and turned his attention to the people in front of him, who now looked annoyed because they apparently didn’t like politeness. He crossed his arms on his desk and gave them a close-lipped smile.
“So,” he started, “I was told you wanted to meet with me specifically. I’ll just say I don’t normally do these kinds of meetings, but if it helps get funding, I will. How can I help you? Would you like me to go over the programs?”
“We had some questions for you,” John replied.
“Okay.” He nodded. “I’m assuming they’re about my work in Colombia?”
“Some,” he answered.
“What university did you go to?” Jane asked.
“Texas A&M.”
“What degree?”
“Criminal justice with a minor in psychology.”
Her nose scrunched as if she smelled something bad, and John sat up straighter in his seat. “Were you really involved with taking down Pablo Escobar?” he asked.
“I helped—spent seven/eight years going after him with my partner. I wasn’t there when he died, but my partner was.”
“That’s a considerable amount of time to hunt someone. Why weren’t you there in the end?”
“I was on leave here in Laredo visiting my family.” Kind of true. “Bad timing, as you can tell.” He humorlessly chuckled.
“Right… And there was another cartel you were involved in dismantling?”
“The Cali cartel,” he answered. “They took over after Escobar.”
“Sounds like a dangerous job. Do you have to worry about their associates or the criminals you put away coming after you?”
“Not really? Many are dead, and I’ve been out of the DEA for a while, so I think if something were going to happen, it would’ve by now.”
“Your achievements are impressive.” He said it, but he didn’t look impressed. “How old are you?”
“Forty.” He felt like he was being interrogated. “Can I tell you about the county’s programs?”
“Right, right,” John said. “Money. We promise you’ll have a check. We’re just interested in learning more about The Great Javier Peña.”
He frowned. “I wouldn’t say I’m great…”
“We wouldn’t either,” Jane mumbled under her breath, not looking at him.
“That’s something we can agree on,” John said so smoothly that Javier was stunned by the rudeness.
What was with these people? They requested this meeting with him and didn’t seem to like him all that much—he was pretty sure the wife hated his guts, and he had no clue what he’d done or who they were. He didn’t have to put up with this shit, no matter who they thought they were or how much they were going to donate, so he let his mask fall along with all the pleasantries.
“So, I’m doing this as a favor for the Sheriff,” Javier said. “I don’t have to talk to you people, especially with you giving me the impression you don’t even like me. I don’t want to waste your time or mine—let’s cut to the chase; how much money are you donating? And I’ll decide if it’s worth answering any more of your questions.”
His shift in demeanor had the couple looking taken aback at his audacity, like they couldn’t believe he’d speak to them in such a way.
“Is that how you talk to people who want to give you money?” Jane asked.
His eyes went to her. “It’s how I talk to people who clearly don’t like or respect me. if you want this meeting to continue, tell me how much.”
“Okay, Javier,” John said. “Is one hundred thousand enough?”
He kept his face neutral, but Javier was shocked. No one had ever donated that much.
“That’ll work,” he responded. “What do you want to know?”
“Is it true you’d pay and sleep with prostitutes to get information while in Colombia?” Jane asked.
Javier jolted as if she’d slapped him, his eyebrows creasing. “Where’d you hear that? What does that have to do with Webb County or my career?”
“It’s a question of your morals,” she answered. “Did you use women for your own personal gain?”
“One hundred thousand,” John reminded him.
Jesus Christ.
His jaw ticked, his fists clenching. He answered, “Yes.”
“Is it true you were fired from the DEA for helping a paramilitary group that killed civilians?” Jane asked.
“I only helped them get a handful of Escobar’s sicarios and told them no civilians were to be harmed.”
“It’s a yes or no question.”
He icily stared. “Yes.”
This was an interrogation.
“Were you engaged to Lorraine Smith seventeen years ago and left her the night before your wedding?”
How the fuck did they know that?
“She was trying to trap me,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Yes or no.”
“Yes.”
John leaned forward, staring him down. “All those deplorable things—do you actually think you’re good enough to marry our daughter?”
There it was.
Everything finally made sense.
He’d only seen a few pictures of her parents since his fiancée didn’t enjoy going through her family photo album, actively avoiding the reminders of how she’d been neglected and shunned, so he hadn’t recognized them. Now that he knew their true identities, he could see the features Cielito had gotten from each of them—eyes, mouth, chin, nose, that crinkle between her eyebrows when they pulled together—if her mother had smiled just once instead of glowering at him the entire time, he would’ve clocked who they were in ten seconds flat.
These fuckers, he knew they were up to something, and to wait and show up a week before their wedding, was fucking diabolical—obviously, they were going to pull some shit to try and stop him from marrying their daughter. A sick part of Javier wished they knew he could still smell Cielito in his mustache and had some of her dried come on his dick; he was happy the mark on his neck stood out since it showed he was with her recently.
His surprise only lasted a second as it quickly turned into burning hot anger, Javier glaring at them.
“Do I think I’m good enough for your daughter? No, but she thinks I am, and her opinion is the only one that matters,” he answered.
Jane rolled her eyes, and John sat back, crossing his arms.
“It used to be common courtesy to ask the Father for permission to marry his daughter,” the other man said.
Javier leaned back, mirroring John with his arms over his chest. “When they considered their daughters property,” he said. “Your daughter is not your property; she’s a person who can do whatever the fuck she wants without your permission—get out of here with that sexist bullshit.”
Jane scoffed.
John jutted a finger at him. “You’re not good enough for our daughter,” he said. “You’re not cut from the same cloth—she’s Cashmere, and you’re a dirty old rag. She’s better than you—she deserves better than you, and you cannot marry her. We won’t allow it. She needs to marry someone from a family of worth or a man in a profession of notoriety who makes good money, like that great surgeon she dated, Dr. Andrews. He’s made a name for himself and would’ve been a great match for her. If she marries you, people will talk, and we’ll be a laughingstock amongst our peers that our daughter was with someone so beneath her—you’d sully her name and all that we’ve built. So, here’s how this is going to go, Javier,” he spat. “We promised you a check, and you’ll get one for one hundred thousand as we agreed for you to put toward whatever menial program you wish. Then you’ll get a second check for the same amount to call off your wedding and leave our daughter. You will never speak to her again, and if she happens to be pregnant with your child—god help us—you will sever your parental rights and have nothing to do with either of them. Am I understood?”
Javier was so fucking angry he thought he was going to explode.
He figured they’d lay into him about his unworthiness to try and make him second guess being with her. He also thought they’d try threatening him with god only knows what to stop their wedding. Trying to pay him off to keep him from marrying their daughter was unexpected and unbelievably insulting. They were out of their minds thinking money would get him to leave her; they were fucking insane thinking money would get him to leave her and their child.
His ears were ringing, his blood was boiling, feeling hot and so full of rage he was seeing red.
His tone was low and menacing, “Get. The fuck. Out.”
John sighed. “Fine. two hundred fifty thousand.”
“I don’t want your fucking money.”
“Everyone has a price,” Jane said.
He looked at her with narrowed eyes, resting his arms back on the desk. “Some people don’t actually give a fuck about money, Jane. So, no, I don’t have a fucking price. You could offer me one million dollars right this second, and I’d still tell you to fuck off. You people are fucking despicable—does she even know you’re here?”
“Of course not,” John said, giving him a look like that should be obvious. “We’re here on business.”
Javier’s attention went to him. “Your daughter’s happiness is ‘business?’ Wanting to ruin our lives is ‘business?’ Do either of you have hearts, or is it purely hatred keeping you alive? You know what, I don’t fucking care—be honest with me, do you even love her?”
“Yes, of course we love her!” Jane replied. “Why do you think we’re doing this? We love her and want what’s best for her!”
“No, you want what’s best for you.” He pointed at her. “If you actually loved her, you wouldn’t be doing this because you’d care about her happiness and not your family’s image. If you loved her, you’d be happy about our marriage.” His voice rose, “If you fucking loved her, you would treat her as such and respect her life choices! You don’t fucking love her, and you never have all because she wasn’t born with a fucking penis and didn’t follow some stupid fucking career tradition! No, you don’t fucking love her!” He stood from his chair so abruptly that it rolled back to ram into a bookcase.
He took a deep breath, his heart pounding, face hot.
His voice brokered no room for argument, “So, here’s how this is going to go. I won’t tell her about this absolutely fucked up conversation and attempted bribe, and you’re going to get the fuck out of our town without another word. You will not see her before leaving, and you will never show your faces here again. If you do not follow any of these instructions, I will tell her everything, and because I genuinely love your daughter—“ He pressed a hand over his heart. “—and know her, I can tell you that you will never hear from her again, and you won’t ever meet our children. Am I understood?”
After this meeting was finished, he was rushing to Cielito’s work to tell her all that had happened—he wouldn’t keep anything from her, especially this.
“One million,” John tried.
“Stop offering me fucking money!” Javier shouted, slamming his hands onto the desk. “You can’t pay me off!” His volume lowered. “Now, are you gonna go straight home, or do I need to call your daughter, my fiancée, on speakerphone so you can tell her what’s happening?”
John looked over his shoulder at the man behind him. “Jerry, the paperwork.” He snapped his fingers.
Gerald used his knee to prop up the briefcase that he popped open. Grabbing a large manila envelope, he passed it to John, who tossed it onto the wooden surface in front of Javier.
“Sign it,” the older man ordered, pointing at it. “Standard prenup—you get divorced, you take what little you brought with you, and don’t get a single cent of our money; if you won’t be reasonable, then you’ll play by our rules. She knows she must either keep her last name or hyphenate when she marries.” Cielito had never mentioned that and planned to take his last name, which her parents definitely wouldn’t like. “The children she has with you will have hyphenated last names, ours first—which shouldn’t be a problem for you.” That was aggressive and not fucking happening with how adamant his future wife was about getting rid of her maiden name. “—and they’ll have trusts set up for them that they can access at the age of eighteen if they pursue a medical degree, if not, then they’ll have to wait until they’re twenty-five.” How fucking rich were these people? And his kids would go to school for whatever they wanted; his fiancée had told him she could afford it. “—you, Javier, are barred from touching any of the money.”
“I don’t want your fucking money, pal,” Javier rolled his eyes. “Stop acting like it matters to me, and pull your head out of your ass—we don’t give a single fuck about you enough to do any of this asinine bullshit.”
“I’m not done,” John’s words were clipped with irritation, and his face showed it. “And you’ll want to hear the rest.”
“I don’t think I do, but please, buddy, keep up this disappointing attempt to intimidate me. Just remember, I spent years with a target on my back and know what it’s like to be at the end of a loaded gun, so your words aren’t gonna do shit.”
“We expect you to visit during the holidays and act civil; that means smiling in the annual family photo.” Javier snorted at this man being so full of himself to think he could get them to play ‘one big happy family.’ “If you don’t sign, then your children will get nothing, we will write our daughter out of our wills, and she will never get any additional financial support from us outside of the money we put aside for her college education—” She had the same stipulation that unless she went to medical school, she wouldn’t have access to her college fund until she was twenty-five. “—and what her grandparents left her; our son will inherit everything.”
Well, shit.
Javier frowned. This just put him between a rock and a goddamn concrete wall of a hard place.
“I’m sure you want your children to have a head start in life,” John continued, looking smug, “so we advise you sign, right Jerry?”
“It’s a substantial amount of money,” Gerald replied. “It would be in your best interest to sign, and that’s just my unbiased opinion.”
Javier was ready to tell them to take the prenup and shove it up their asses, the problem: he couldn’t make an executive decision on Cielito’s behalf that would lose her inheritance. This was something he needed to discuss with her and figure out if she wanted him to abide by the demands—which he would, for her; he wouldn’t like it, but he’d do anything for her. Now he needed to get these assholes to leave, so he could head to the hospital and talk to her.
“Thank you for your unbiased opinion, Gerald,” Javier said. He looked at the man who’d unfortunately be his father-in-law in a week. “Have you listed all of that in here?” He poked the manila envelope.
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m not gonna sign a legally binding document without having my lawyer look it over—I’m a smart guy, after all. You got a card with your fax number on it, Gerald?”
“Yes,” he answered, pulling one out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and walking around his bosses to hand it to Javier.
“Thanks. I’m going to let my lawyer determine if it really is in my best interest to agree to this, and he’ll be in touch in a couple of days—you probably won’t tell me, but where’d you hear all that shit about me?”
How people in town found out about his history with the informants has been a mystery since he never told anyone. He knew a person could find out about his involvement with Los Pepes from reading an article in a Miami newspaper, and everyone in fucking Laredo was aware of Lorraine.
John looked at him like he was stupid. “Private investigator,” he answered.
“Let me guess, he talked to Lorraine and her family?”
“No comment.”
So, that was a yes.
He sighed. “I’m really fucking curious about where he got the intel on my… relations with the women in Colombia. It had to be someone I worked with—“ He knew it wasn’t Steve. “—or who knew me down there.”
“They contacted us anonymously, so I don’t know.”
It smelled like Stechner, which, now that he was thinking about it, that fucker had been through this area before he arrived unannounced a couple of months ago, working alongside the DEA with what was going on in Mexico. He would’ve loved stirring up trouble by letting it slip about Javier’s relationships with informants.
He nodded once. “Well,” Javier started, “eating a bowl of shattered glass would’ve been more pleasant than this shitshow of a meeting. You folks really know how to make a great first impression,” he said sarcastically. “Now get the fuck out of my office and town.” He gestured toward the door. “You’re not welcome here.”
The couple got up from their chairs.
John checked the time on his Rolex, the gold watch featuring a white dial that easily cost three to four times the amount of the one on Javier’s wrist. “We need to get going anyway,” he said, “I have to be in San Francisco tomorrow for a medical conference, and I can’t miss it since I’m speaking at it—hopefully, I’ll run into Daniel. It’s always nice talking to him.”
Javier’s eyes rolled so hard he thought they might get stuck.
“We’re happy to leave this awful town,” Jane sneered. “One day, she’ll tire of you and realize the mistake she made letting you trap her here. We’ll be there when she finally comes to her senses and returns home to us.”
Javier huffed amusedly. “You’re fucking delusional, lady. You don’t even know her! She loves living here. Especially since it’s so fucking far away from you snobby fuckers.”
The woman raised her nose at him and hmph’d.
“Last chance, Javier,” John said, meeting his eyes. “One million dollars and all you have to do is disappear from her life—you’ve done it before, so do it again, and this time be compensated for it. Someone like you can easily find another woman to love.”
Javier straightened, his hands sitting on his hips, staring daggers at the other man. “I don’t want another woman,” he growled. “You’re not understanding, so let me say it nice and slow, and maybe you’ll get it: I. Love. Your. Daughter. No one else. I will never love anyone else. I love her more than life itself. I would take a bullet for her. I would die for her. I would do anything for her, like signing this fucking document—” He tapped his finger on it. “—that I don’t agree with or want to do 99% of because I love her, and I want her to be happy. She is my entire world, and just the thought of being away from her makes me sick to my stomach. So, unless she tells me to leave, I’m not going anywhere; I am spending the rest of my life with her, and there is no amount of money in the entire fucking universe that could get me to do otherwise.” He took in a big breath and slowly let it out, frowning. “From the way you can’t seem to grasp the love we have and what your daughter means to me, I’m under the impression your marriage is transactional or for appearances only—there was never any love, it was just a way to improve your social standing, or whatever stupid shit you rich people care about, but the fact of the matter is it wasn’t built on love. It’s superficial.” He looked at John. “If you went bankrupt tomorrow, she wouldn’t stay with you.” He pointed at the wife. “There’s no for richer or poorer with you two, and that’s really fucking sad. I pity you.”
The couple were scowling at him. “We don’t need your pity,” the older man said. “You know nothing about our marriage. We’ll be expecting to see the signed papers soon.”
They didn’t wait for him to respond, storming toward the door with Gerald following.
Javier sighed, pressing his fingers to his brow.
He knew eventually he’d have to meet Cielito’s parents. He had thought about what he’d say to them when he did so many times he’d lost count because Javier needed them to know how angry he was with how they’d treated the woman he loved. He needed them to know how they failed her as parents. He needed them to know how much he loved her and that he wouldn’t let them continue hurting her. He finally had his chance, and they’d made him so mad, he couldn’t remember a single fucking thing he said and hoped in his rage he got some of his points across.
They were at a crossroads now. He’d tell her what happened, every detail he could remember, and then it would be up to her—will they cut off complete contact with her family? Or would they have to abide by her parents’ demands? Javier thought he knew which way she’d choose, but money had a way of making people do things they normally wouldn’t, and from the looks of it, there was a lot of money on the line.
He sighed again. Anxiety had his stomach twisting into knots, and he was so fucking worried about what she’d choose that his chest was aching. He’d go along with whatever it was because, in the end, it was her decision, and he’d respect it, even if it was something he didn’t like and, holy shit, did Javier hate the idea of these stuck-up pricks remaining in their lives and having any kind of relationship with their future children.
There was a knock on his office door, and his hand lowered, finding Joy standing in the doorway with worry on her brow. She was a great kid who’d really gotten the hang of the job, which was her first out of college, and she was doing very well—Joy also loved Cielito and hung on her every word when they talked.
“Is everything okay, Javi?” she asked. “I heard yelling.”
“They were my in-laws, and they fucking hate me. I’ve never met them in person; hell, I’ve never even spoken to her dad on the phone, and they flew all the way here to talk to me.”
Her eyes went wide behind her glasses. “It wasn’t to congratulate you on your marriage, was it…?”
He scoffed. “No, they were trying to convince me to call it off.”
“Then why are you still here? Go to the hospital! Don’t worry about your messages.”
“I’m going,” he said, grabbing the large envelope containing the documents and moving toward the door, not even bothering to put on his suit jacket.
“You should know they left this with me.” She held up what looked to be paper as he approached, and he took it, reading what it was.
“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he said in disbelief. “They donated the fucking hundred grand—we didn’t even talk about the programs. How did they know who to write the check out to?” He met her eyes.
“They asked me which one was my favorite.” She shrugged. “Now, go!” She snagged the check back. “I’ll get this to where it belongs, and you go deal with what you need to—tell her hi from me.”
“I will.” He made his way out of the door. “Thank you!” he said, walking as fast as his legs could go.
Once in his truck and on his way, he’d gotten his cell phone out and speed-dialed a number.
Ring.
“Doctor’s Hospital of Laredo. How may I direct your call?”
“Robyn Thompson, post-op.”
“One moment.”
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
“Hi, this is Robyn,” she answered.
“Hey, it’s Javi.”
“Oh, they paged me to answer the phone. Let me go get her.”
“No!” he quickly said. “I need to talk to you.”
Her tone went serious, “What’s goin’ on, Javi?”
“I’m on my way there right now and need to talk to her about something that happened. Would you be okay if I borrowed her for ten, maybe fifteen minutes?”
“Javier,” she whispered, “are you gettin’ cold feet?”
That being her first assumption stung, and it hurt worse because she knew damn well how head over heels he was for her best friend. It looked like even after all these years since his failed wedding, it didn’t matter if he was madly in love with someone and had a great relationship; people were still going to wonder if he would leave his new bride at the altar.
“What? No! Never! Not with her. Her fucking parents came to town and tried to pay me a fuckton of money to call off the wedding and leave her, I told them to fuck off, but they want me to sign a goddamn prenup with a list of demands that I need to talk to her about.”
“Her parents…? Here in Laredo…?”
“Yeah, I was pretty fucking shocked, too, then so fucking angry I can’t remember what I yelled at them.”
“She can take her break early, and I’ll cover.”
“Please don’t say anything to her.”
“Oh, this is all you.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem. See you soon.”
“Bye.”
He ended the call.
The radio’s volume was down low, and the air conditioner was turned up high, Javier alone with his thoughts as he figured out how he was going to tell her about what happened—he’d tell her the truth, of course, but he didn’t want to upset her. That was the thing, though; she was going to be upset and royally pissed off.
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The patient in room three wanted some apple juice; room five was asking for pain meds, but they had an hour before they could have another dose and hated being told ‘no’ so much they wouldn’t stop hitting their call button as if each press would magically make the minutes go by faster; room one was asleep and in—you checked the time on your watch—the next forty-five minutes, an orderly was coming by to take them for a walk to exercise their new hip.
It had been a busy fucking day, and you felt awful about coming back to work a little late after lunch.
You were heading toward the storage room to get the apple juice and just put your hand on the door handle.
“Hey,” Robyn said as she walked up to you. “What are your rooms needin’?”
“Three, apple juice. Five, pain meds, but we have to wait an hour. One is asleep for now.”
She nodded. “Okay, I’m gonna take care of all that for you while you go on break.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, looking at your watch. “It’s way too early for me to take a break. I’ve got another hour, at least.”
Her smile was small, patting your arm. “You’re gonna wanna go now ‘cause Javi’s waitin’ for you over at the desk.”
Your head whipped in that direction, and sure enough, he was standing there in his charcoal-colored slacks, white dress shirt, and red-patterned tie, staring at you with big brown puppy dog eyes and a little smile—and doing a little awkward wave that was both adorable and weirdly out of character from his usual suaveness.
“Uh, why is he here?” you asked, returning his gesture with a small wave of your own. “I was just with him on lunch...”
She turned her attention to him. “Oh, look at him doin’ a lil wave,” she cooed as if she was fawning over a cute baby, waving back. “Isn’t that just adorably weird and a reason you should talk to him right now?”
“You’re really okay if I take my break?” Your face turned her way.
She met your eyes. “Girl, my two patients are passed out, and the next one isn't arrivin’ for another hour, shoo.” She shooed you away with her hands, and you went.
Javi had stopped waving as you approached him, and once you were close enough, you asked, “Is everything okay? What are you doing here?”
The look on his face wasn’t happy; he was clearly worried, and it made you nervous.
“Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”
Alarm bells started going off in your head.
“Javier, is your dad okay? Did something happen to him? Or someone else in the family?”
He grabbed your hand, his thumb rubbing on the skin of the back of it. “Pop’s okay, Cielito—everyone in our family is okay. Take me somewhere we can talk, and I’ll explain.”
You chewed on your lip, not wanting to ask the question but needing to in order to prepare yourself. “Does this have something to do with our wedding…?” your voice was quiet.
“Baby, no,” he reassured. “Mi amor, look at me.” You did. “Us, our family, our friends, are all good—something happened at work, and I can’t talk to you on the phone about it or wait until we get home. I’ll tell you once we’re somewhere alone.”
“Okay.” You nodded, interlacing your fingers with his and leading him down the hall. For privacy’s sake, you took him to the closest on-call room, the small space containing a twin-sized bed and a desk.
The door was locked, and you moved further into the room and stopped, turning to face your fiancé.
Your eyes were on his. “What’s going on, babe?” you asked.
He took in a big lungful of air, saying as he exhaled, “Your parents came to my office today.”
What he stated was so absurd you thought you misheard him. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right. It sounded like you said my parents were at your office, like physically, in person at your office, which is just absolute crazyballs because why would they come all the way here and not tell me or visit me…?”
The look on his face was so sad it made your stomach drop to your toes. He slid his hand soothingly along your bicep, up and down, over and over.
His tone was gentle. “You know how we’ve been wondering if they’re up to something?”
“Yes,” you whispered, dreading what he would say.
“They were pretending to like me and support our marriage, so you wouldn’t suspect them of having anything to do with their plan of getting me to leave you the week before our wedding....”
“What are you talking about?”
“They came to my office today to try and pay me a lot of fucking money to disappear from your life.”
Your eyes widened.
“They tried to pay you to leave me…?”
“Yes, and it made me so fucking angry that they’d do such a thing and try to frame it like they were doing it out of love and wanting what was best for you when in reality, it’s what they want—I’m still fucking pissed.” You could tell he was with how upset he was getting as he continued speaking. “I suspected if they were gonna pull some shit, it’d be trying to make me doubt I was good enough for you or threaten me with what? I don’t know, but to try and pay me off? Like our love can be fucking bought? Or to assume money would mean more to me than you?” His eyes were getting watery. “You, my fucking soulmate. I told them no amount of money could get me to leave you. It was so fucked up, and I hate them,” he seethed. “I’m sorry, baby, but I hate your fucking parents, I hate your family, and I lost my cool and yelled at them for not loving you and being so goddamn despicable.”
It took a second for you to process that your parents flew thousands of miles to try and pay Javi to break things off. You knew they didn’t approve of him, but to go so low? It had anger welling up inside you the longer you thought about it, getting madder at how upset they made your sweet, caring, loving fiancé, who you knew absolutely laid into them for trying such a heinous thing.
After your mother’s abrupt change in opinion of him, Javi and you had been suspicious of how out of character it was for her. There was a tiny bit of hope about the size of a grain of sand that she was being sincere with how she called more in the following weeks, wanting to hear about your wedding plans and find out the date. When you thought about it, it wasn’t all that surprising she was just fishing for information to put together her scheme. She never had any intention of helping you when she offered to hire you a wedding planner; it was a ruse to buy her time to figure out how to stop the whole thing, and you threw a wrench in her plotting by getting married so soon.
And this was the final straw.
You’d given your family enough chances, and this time, they went too far—there was no coming back from this. They could never be trusted, and you wouldn’t let them continue treating the man you loved so horribly. This whole thing was confirmation they didn’t love you.
You reached to cradle his smooth cheeks in your hands.
“I’m so sorry, Javi. I’m sorry for what they put you through. I’m sorry for how they treated you. I’m sorry for them, and I’m done. They’ve shown me who they really are, and it’s the nail in the fucking coffin.” Tears didn’t come to your eyes, and you felt no sadness about cutting them out, probably because you’d already spent enough time mourning the loss of a relationship with them and had come to terms with it. “I’ve got you, your dad, your family, Robyn—I don’t need people full of so much hate. I’m done, it’s over. I won’t be answering any of their calls.”
His eyes closed in relief, his breath stuttering on a sob. The emotion was thick when he spoke, “I want that to be true, but there’s more…”
“What do you mean there’s more?”
He looked at you. “Your father gave us an ultimatum—I sign a prenup, and we go along with his terms, or you lose your inheritance; they’ll write you out of their wills, and our kids won’t get any money. They said all you’d have is your college fund and what your grandparents left you.” He held up a large manila envelope. “You can read everything he’ll require us to do, and I’ll sign if that's what you want.”
“Wait, let me guess his terms.”
He looked confused. “What?”
“Did he say I had to keep my maiden name?”
“Yes… or hyphenate it.”
You huffed out a breath. “Typical. God, did he say the shit about our children having my last name first? Which I know you have your dad and mom’s last names, but that’s how it’s ordered: your dad's, then mom’s; it’d be weird if we did mine first.”
“He did…”
“Yeah, I’d prefer our kids just being Peñas. Um, what else? Oh! Was there anything about our babies getting money for medical school?”
“Trusts… They can access at eighteen for medical school, twenty-five if not.”
“Figures.” Your eyes rolled. “Didn’t get access to any of my money until I was twenty-five.”
His free hand caressed your face, his expression still pinched in confusion. “Cielito, what is happening right now? Why aren’t you upset?”
Your eyebrows dipped. “Why would I be upset…? You’re not signing that.” You pointed at the packet. “I don’t want their money. Do you want their money?”
“What? No. I told your father exactly how much I didn’t want his fucking money. I’m not quite getting why you aren’t more upset about no longer speaking to them…”
“Oh! This is probably hard for you to understand because your parents love you unconditionally and are, in general, fantastic people. See, my parents’ love is conditional, which you’re holding proof of, and when you spend the first eighteen years of your life trying to live up to impossible standards for the tiniest scrap of affection, you kinda develop a lot of resentment toward the ones who are supposed to love you no matter what.
“Then there’s the way they think they can dictate my life choices as an adult,” you continued, “and only call me so often to keep tabs on what I’m up to in order to ensure I’m not doing anything that would embarrass them or bring shame to the family name—they’re fucking ridiculous about their traditions and keeping up appearances that their family is perfect.
“So, sure, I love them,” you told him, “but I’ve been tired of their bullshit for a while now and have been clear about my boundaries; plus, they knew they were on thin ice, and Javi, every time I’ve told you I’d choose you over them, I meant it.” You swiped his bangs off his forehead. “Your love is unconditional, and you genuinely love me; what’s better than that? And that’s why I don’t have any issues cutting them out of our lives and don’t care about losing my inheritance.
“You’ve seen firsthand how toxic they are,” you said, “and I won’t have them around us or our children. Our happiness is more important than keeping shitty people in our lives for money, and babe, believe me when I say we don’t need their money.”
His eyes were searching yours. “Are you sure?”
You smiled. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t—yes, Javier, I’m sure, I’m more than sure. You are what matters to me. You and our future babies are what matter to me.” You took the envelope from his hand and looked around the room, finding the small garbage can over by the door. “Swoosh!” you called out and tossed the documents toward it.
—them landing on the floor beside the trash with a thud.
“There goes my NBA career,” you mumbled.
A surprised sound left you when lips crushed against yours hard, Javi’s big, warm hands holding your face—there was a second delay before you started kissing him back just as fervently with your eyes closed, your fingers threading into the soft, thick strands of his hair, pressing your body into his as close as you could get without crawling into his skin.
His palm slid down your back to grab a handful of your ass, his tongue slipping between your lips to massage your own.
Javier could be an imposing figure with the broadness of his shoulders, his wide chest, and tall stature. He had a way of making you feel delicate and safe when he caged you in his arms, something ancient in the back of your mind repeating, 'Protector, protector, protector...' and purring happily.
He could easily get you to move where he wanted, and he walked you back until your legs hit the side of the bed. In the blink of an eye, he had your spine to the mattress with him on top of you, the kissing getting frantic.
"I love you," his sentence muffled against your mouth. "I love you—I need... I need." He sounded desperate, unable to articulate what he wanted, but if you thought about what he went through that day—the excitement of actually trying for the baby, the rage at meeting your parents, the worry at what you'd choose—he felt a lot of big emotions, and you knew his way of coping when he got overwhelmed was losing himself in another person's body.
He needed you.
His hips were cradled in your thighs, feeling him hardening.
Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. Today, however, there were a couple of issues, the big one being that you were at your place of employment, and the second was you didn’t have time—Robyn was already doing you a solid by covering, and it’d be rude to go over your allotted fifteen minutes of break time.
Javi needed you, though, and you wanted to make him feel better.
With a quick glance at your watch, you had seven minutes to work with, a plan quickly forming in your head.
It wasn’t hard to get him to roll you both to have you on top of him, straddling his hips and shoving his arms above his head, where you held them down. Your mouths were fused together, the kiss becoming needy and hungry, your lips slick, and your tongues moving together with practiced familiarity. With a roll of your hips, you ground yourself against his hardened cock, heat zipping through your belly at the broken whine he made, which only encouraged you to keep going, continuing to grind, rubbing your pussy along his thick shaft.
He wanted to touch you, making an attempt to get his hands out of your hold, but you kept them firmly in place. You spoke quietly into his lips, “You gonna be a good boy and let me make you feel good?” He groaned, his entire body shivering under you.
His length was between the lips of your clothed cunt, grinding yourself against it, the friction to your clit causing sparks to dance in your core. "You gonna come for me?" you asked, keeping your voice low and nipping at his bottom lip, kissing him again, rough sounds rumbling from his chest.
Your mouth broke away from his, pressing your foreheads together. "You gonna think about how I still have you inside me?" you murmured, not slowing your movements, sliding your pussy over him repeatedly.
Occasionally, there were voices or the wheels of hospital beds rolling outside the room’s door as people passed by. Inside, where you and Javier were alone, the sounds filling the air were the mattress springs softly squeaking, his breathy moans, and your panted breaths.
"You gonna think about how you might've gotten me pregnant today?" you asked. That got you a groan and him bucking his hips.
"You gonna think about how you’ll fill me again when we get home? How you're gonna keep me all nice and stuffed so I have your baby in nine months?" A desperate sound left him, and he started thrusting up into you while you kept grinding.
"You gonna think about what I'll look like knocked up with your baby? The big belly and swollen tits? You like that my boobs are gonna get bigger, don't you?" You were reveling in his whimpers and moans, knowing you had him. "Have you imagined what I'll look like riding you when I'm pregnant?"
“Yes,” he answered breathlessly. His hands broke free, pawing at your body and zeroing in on your breasts with the enthusiasm of a man who just got home from war. “Get so fucking hard imagining it.” His fingers dug into your waist as he helped you move faster and pressed you harder against him.
“Are you gonna come thinking about it?”
The question made him gasp out, “Yes.”
You knew he was close when his breaths got shaky.
“Come for me, Javi,” you said. “Come on. Let go.”
Your mouth descended on his, the kiss sloppy and more of a mash of lips to quiet his sounds. He suddenly went still and stiffened with a choked whine, feeling his dick under you pulsing as he fell apart, your movements stopping. It was quiet in the room, save for the heavy breaths. Your mouth left his to kiss his chin, then both of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and finally, his forehead. You admired his pretty face with his closed eyes, and his reddened lips turned up in the cutest smile you couldn’t help but kiss.
His breathing started to even out. “How are you feeling?” you asked. Checking your watch to see you still had two minutes remaining.
“Better,” he whispered.
“Good.” The bed complained as you got off of him and it, taking a couple of steps to grab the box of tissues from the desk. “You’ll probably want to clean up the mess in your pants,” you said, setting them on the mattress beside him. “Sorry about that.”
“Liar,” he replied, blinking his eyes open all cat-like and turning his head to look at you.
You smiled. “I mean, it’s very hot, and I’m proud of myself. I wish I could stay longer, but I need to get back to work.” Bending down, you quickly pecked him on the lips before straightening. “Bye.”
You started to walk away, and his arm shot out to grab your hand. “Wait,” he said.
Meeting his gaze, you asked, “Yeah?”
His eyes had gone round, and he was looking at you like you hung the moon or painted the sky with stars; there was so much awe and love in his expression that it stole your breath and made you feel as though you were all that mattered to him, and wasn’t that the truth? It was hard to believe that someone loved you so completely and would do anything for you, knowing that had you said you wanted your inheritance, he would’ve gone along with all the shit that came with it—he would’ve hated it a lot, but Javi still would’ve done it for you because he loved you. He loved you more than any other person or thing on the planet, and when you had kids, he’d love them just as much, and that thrilled you.
You knew what he would say before the words left his mouth.
“I love you,” you said at the same time, and he smiled so big it made his eyes crinkle at the edges.
“What am I gonna say next?” he asked.
“Well, you had a day, and now you’re ridiculously happy about never having to deal with the people I’m related to again; add in that you just came and have all those love chemicals floating around in your body, you’re gonna wax poetic about how much you love me very beautifully and probably in Spanish because you tend to reset to your original programming and speak in your first language when you’re extremely lost in the sauce or come really hard.”
He huffed out an amused breath. “Smartass.”
“But am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Then lay it on me.”
“I don’t want to now—you already know what I was gonna say.”
“Okay, then I’m heading back to work,” you said, calling his bluff.
He frowned and squeezed your hand. “Wait, don’t go yet.”
“What’s up?”
“Te amo (I love you),” he replied. “Te amo tanto (I love you so much).”
“Yo sé y yo también te amo (I know and I love you, too).”
“No, cuando digo que te amo, es una promesa de que solo te amaré a ti por toda la eternidad (No, when I say I love you, it’s a promise that I will only love you for all eternity). Cuando digo que te amo, es una promesa de que sólo tú tendrás mi devoción completa (When I say I love you, it’s a promise that only you have my complete devotion). Cuando digo que te amo, las palabras vienen de lo más profundo de mi alma, donde has llenado la parte que me faltaba (When I say I love you, the words are coming from the depths of my soul where you’ve filled in the missing part of me). Cuando digo que te amo, lo siento en cada célula de mi cuerpo (When I say I love you, I feel it in every cell of my body). Cuando digo que te amo, lo digo en serio: te amo y siempre te amaré hasta el fin de los tiempos (When I say I love you, I mean it: I love you, and I’ll always love you until the end of time). Te amo, Cielito (I love you, Cielito).”
He had your eyes feeling a little misty at what he said and how it was apparent he meant every word.
“God, I love you,” you told him, “and I hate that I can’t articulate how much I love you as poetically as you do—just know I love you as much as you love me, and I’m yours forever, and I mean forever. Let me kiss you, and then I really have to go. I’ll lock the door on my way out so you can clean up.”
“Baby, I don’t need you to say sappy bullshit for me to know how fucking much you love me.” He brought your hand to his mouth to kiss the back of it. “I feel it in all the things you do for me. Like throwing away the prenup and knowing I was fucked up about everything today and making me cream my pants like an inexperienced teenager getting his dick touched for the first time to make me feel better. I know you love me, and that’s why I’m marrying you next week and am so fucking excited to start a family with you.”
“Oh, Javi,” you gasped. “You creamed your pants like a besotted grown man getting his dick touched by the woman he’s madly in love with—I’m being honest when I say it’s romantic and very hot.”
He chuckled, pulling you closer by the arm, and you leaned down to press your lips to his, hoping he felt it in your kiss, the all-consuming love you had for him.
“You are the woman I’m madly in love with,” he murmured into your mouth.
“And you’re the man, I’m madly in love with,” came your muffled reply.
There were a lot of ways your life could’ve turned out and many paths you could’ve chosen. What you knew for certain was they all would’ve led you to him. Mistakes weren’t mistakes, all of your choices were right, even if they were wrong, and it didn’t matter where you lived in the past or all of the people you’d met over the years; the invisible string tying you together would’ve somehow, some way pulled you to him in that grocery store on that hot summer day because it was the perfect moment in both of your lives to find one another—you were two lost souls who finally found what you’d been missing: each other.
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lucvly · 4 months
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hi, how are you doing ? i was wondering if can you do christmas head canons with matt ?
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— christmas headcannons with matt. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙
warnings: just fluff & a slightly suggestive one if you squint.
a/n: hii omg ?? is this Thing on ?? 🎤
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— leaves the christmas lights up till january type of person. either a) he’s too lazy to take the decorations down, or b) he just wants you to help him take them down so he avoids it until you bring up the idea of helping him LMAO.
— this man knows how to wrap presents mhm. he’d a hundred percent do that stupid ass trend that’s like “wrapping gifts as something not even remotely close”.
— LOOOVES baking cookies with you aww. he doesn’t even like the baking process itself he just likes the decorating part.
— his presents are definitely well thought out. you offhandedly said you wanted a certain something five months ago? best believe he bought it for you for christmas.
— every single present he gives you includes a handwritten love letter. you love it because it’s always at least three pages long and it’s so cute :(.
— he’s such an attentive boyfriend i’m melting ugh. always has a spare jacket for you in the backseat of his car. he’ll say nick or chris left it there for some reason which is most definitely not true, he keeps it there especially for you just in case you get too cold.
— he doesn’t really like visiting malls on christmas because of the crowds but if you wanna go for some reason he’s absolutely following you around.
— he tries to be secretive with gifts but ends up being a major fail LMFAOO you’ve found out what your presents are on multiple occasions. one time he just left them in the car accidentally and you saw them before he could even do anything about it.
— which leads me to my next point, you and chris have an unspoken secret agreement to tell each other what matters got you for christmas. you tell him his present and he’ll tell you yours.
— this went on for a while before matt actually found out and all hell broke loose Oops.
— a perfectionist when it comes down to gingerbread houses. he eventually gives up though when some of the pieces don’t stick together.
— matching ugly sweaters are a must, duh. sometimes it’ll deadass just be mid june and you’ll catch him wearing one of the matching sweaters. it’s so funny but unironically he loves them, he can’t even figure iut why, he just does.
— he gets chapped lips during winter SORRY !! so you’re absolutely gonna catch him with cherry flavored chapstick and he doesn’t gaf. ( taste tests in the car <3333 )
— he’ll never admit it but he Loves christmas scented candles. he acts like the smell is way too strong or something but light one of those snickerdoodle scented candles and he’s Melting.
— lots of christmas themed pick up lines. deadass texts you in the middle of the night just to be like “can i take your picture? i gotta show santa what i want for christmas.”
— his favorite part of winter is the fact that he gets to spend most of his time cuddled up with you under a fuzzy blanket watching movies.
— expect tons of late night drives with him. he loves seeing how people decorate their houses, and for some reason he loves late night talks with you with soft christmas music playing in the background.
— he would be so serious about kids and santa. i feel like chris would be the type of guy to tell kids santa isn’t real but matt would get so pissed, literally raging.
— gets the worst case of sweet tooth during christmas. cookies, cakes, literally anything sweet idc.
— due to that, he’d a hundred percent get sick during the holidays LMFAOO (constant stomachaches because of the amount of sweets he’s had.)
— he’s definitely very considerate as to who you wanna spend your christmas with. he’s thrilled when you wanna spend christmas with him, his brothers and the rest of his family but he also understands that you wanna spend holidays with your family.
— to get to a fair arrangement, you both agree on: one year celebrating with your family, and another year you celebrate with his.
— though when you celebrate with your family, matt, chris and nick end up crashing at, like, the middle of the night HELLO??
— he loves showing you off and posting with you during the holidays. posting your matching outfits, posting vlogs / videos and hauls of what you got for christmas. it’s soo cute.
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javierpena-inatacvest · 3 months
Text
Chapter 19- Good Luck, and Goodnight
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Summary: It's the night before your wedding at your rehearsal dinner. Things are prepped and ready for the big day tomorrow, everyone couldn't be happier for you and Javi, and if you were any more excited to marry your future husband, you're convinced you'll explode. Everything seems to be going perfectly, that is, until it's not.
Word Count: 12.5K (Lil Shawty for me tbh)
Warnings: SMUT(18+) unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, big fat breeding kink, getting cockblocked by your dog (Sorry, Bear), mentions of death of family members, Javi putting his preemptive girl dad skills to the test (and passing with flying colors), mentions of anxiety/panic, lack of sleep due to said anxiety, Javi can't stop calling you Mrs. Peña and telling you how excited he is to get married, Javi once again setting the bar in the sky for all men
A/N: I am literally so sorry from the bottom of my heart this chapter has legit taken a month (January has kicked my ASS). I am so excited for their wedding, but I figured we'd get a little sneak peak before the big day arrives!! As if this series wasn't already self indulgent enough, I too, have been cockblocked by my own dog more times than I would like to count (please tell me I am not the only one), and got approximately 3 and a half hours of sleep the night before my wedding 🫠 (forever anxious girlies (gn) rise up!!!) ily each and every one of you so much, thank you for all your love and support 🥺💕
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Perfect. 
That was what your morning felt like as you blinked the sleep from your eyes, stretching your arms over your head to wake yourself to the vision of the bright, golden sunrise spilling through your curtains, casting towering shadows on your bedroom, soft July breeze floating through your open window. 
Birds singing their melodic morning songs, wind gently rustling the trees outside your window…
“Hhhhhhsssssmmmmmggggggggg” 
“Mmmmmmgggggghhhhhhhhhggg” 
…The sweet, synchronized snores of your future husband and dog snuggled next to you, still sound asleep as their bodies laid splayed across the better half of the bed with the majority of the comforter and sheets tangled between them, leaving you with a sliver of mattress and a tiny corner of blanket. 
Well, it was almost perfect. 
You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of your two favorite boys happily snoozing away as the world began to wake around them, pressing a soft kiss onto each of their heads before sleepily shuffling your way to the bathroom. 
You had barely made it two steps before Bear’s ears perked up, tail thumping against the mattress to see at least one of his favorite humans was awake, and better yet, able to feed him breakfast. He sprung off the bed, happily trotting behind you as he followed you to the bathroom, patiently sitting by the toilet as you peed, since you had quickly learned that personal space no longer existed after Bear had become a permanent member of your home. 
“Gimme a second, ya goof.” You smiled, laughing to yourself as you flushed, maneuvering around Bear’s big body to wash your hands before the two of you meandered to the kitchen, leaving Bear wagging and shaking in excitement as he sat by his bowl, wiggling even faster as he watched you dump his food into his dish and began to chow down. 
Leaving Bear to munch on his breakfast, you snuck your way back to the bedroom, softly closing the door behind you before crawling back into bed, sneaking through the sea of tangled sheets to find Javi’s body, his presence warm and inviting as you nestled up next to him. 
Your hands slid up his bare chest and over the broadness of his shoulders until your hands met his jaw, gently cupping the unshaven stubble of his cheeks, swiping your thumb back and forth against his scruff skin.
Javi’s body began to stir, his arms now wrapping around you to pull you on top of him, your stomach resting against his as he squeezed you against his body, making you erupt in sleepy giggles. 
“Good morning, sleepy head.” You whispered against his skin, planting soft kisses across his patchy beard while his eyes began to slowly flutter open, quickly joined by a tired grin growing between his cheeks. 
“Good morning, Mrs. Peña.” He rasped, his greeting making you pull back to see the boyish smirk plastered all over his face, the hands that had been resting on the small of your back slowly snaking their way down to your ass, and giving it a little squeeze. 
“Almost Mrs. Peña, you dork. One more day.” You giggled, your face growing warm at the realization that in 24 hours, that name would be your reality and your forever for the rest of your life. 
“Close enough.” Javi grinned, leaning up to press a soft kiss against your lips, practically feeling his sleepy smile against your mouth. “Fuck, I can’t believe we’re getting married tomorrow. I can’t wait. I can’t wait for you to be my wife,” he pressed another kiss on your cheek, making you giggle, “I can’t wait to be your husband,” he paused, making you giggle even louder as he began trailing his lips down your neck, the hairs of his mustache tickling your skin, “to spend the rest of my life with you,” you squealed as Javi flipped you onto your back, your head landing on your pillows as he hovered over your body, gently tugging your oversized shirt over your stomach, letting his hand creep up your skin, “have a family with you, fuck a baby into you.” you could feel the subtle shift in his tone as his hand palmed at your breasts, kneading your soft flesh, making you let out a soft moan, whispering his name. 
You and Javi had agreed on two conditions in attempts to keep your ever growing baby fever somewhat at bay- One, you were married, and two, your new house was completely finished and ready to be moved into. Tomorrow, the first half of your agreement was about to be fulfilled, and with the second half only a few weeks away, the prospect of legitimately trying for a baby was on the horizon, the two of you had been absolutely insatiable about the idea. 
“Javi, please…” 
“Please what, Osita? Tell me what you want, Hermosa. You want me to give you a baby when I give you my last name too, huh? Show everyone you’re mine with that ring on your finger and our baby growing inside you?” Javi rasped, tugging your sleep shorts off your hips, sliding them down your legs and hit the floor as he situated himself at the edge of the bed, gently nudging open your knees to reveal the arousal that had begun pooling between your legs, soaking your folds and inner thighs. “Sure looks like that’s what you want, isn’t it, sweet girl? Fuck me, you’re so fucking wet already.” 
“Jesus Christ…Yes, oh my god.” You whimpered, already feeling your mind go blank as he settled himself between your legs, draping his arms over your thighs pinning you to the bed, kissing closer and closer to your core, letting his lips ghost over your clit, making you shutter. 
“I know, Osita. Almost, baby. As soon as we’re married and this house is finally done, I’ll give you everything you want. I promise.”  He smirked, watching the desperation spread across your face as he licked one long, broad stroke through your folds, tongue pressed flat against your sensitive bundle of nerves, already aching and throbbing without barely being touched. Almost painfully slowly, he began to work his mouth around your clit before taking his two fingers and collecting the slick dripping from your entrance, soaking his digits before pushing them into your heat, the sensation making you audibly moan in pleasure. 
Javi took his sweet time, pumping his curved fingers in and out of your cunt, hitting the soft, spongy spot inside of you over and over as his tongue danced across your clit, swirling and sucking in the way he knew made you lose your mind in the best way possible, relishing in every moan and whimper that escaped from your mouth. Your hand shot down to his head nestled between your thighs, tugging at the sleepy curls of his dark brown hair, looking for some relief as you felt the tingle at the base of your spine begin to grow, slowly creeping its way through your body.  
It never failed to shock you how quickly Javi was able to make you cum without even trying, how he had memorized every twitch and tug of your body beneath him, that he had learned all the ways to make you fall apart over and over again like his life depended on it. It also never failed to shock you how much the smug grin that spread across Javi’s face as he knew you were getting close made you lose yourself even more, the lust swirling in the deep brown of his eyes staring up at you with delight, practically begging for you to cum for him. 
“Fuck, oh fuck- Just like that Javi, fuck, oh shit- holy fuck, you feel so good, baby.” You whimpered, your hand still buried in the locks of his hair as he pulled his face away, the smirk under his mustache covered in your slick as his fingers continued to languidly pulse inside you, now feeling your cunt clench tighter and tighter around them. 
“That’s it, sweet girl. I know you’re close, Hermosa, can feel how fucking tight you are around my fingers. Cum for me, Osita, I’ve got you, baby. Cum for me and then I’ll fuck you so good I swear I’ll fucking beat your birth control and knock you up right now.” His words hummed deep in his chest, the thought of his promise alone making you writhe in the tangled sheets of your bed, your pussy beginning to flutter as he dove back between your legs, his leisurely pace now becoming almost as frantic and desperate as you were. 
His mouth latched around your clit, tongue flicking and and prodding at your sensitive nerves as his fingers worked in tandem, fucking deeper into you with each thrust of your hand, trying to use his other arm to keep you in place as you bucked your hips, instinctively needing to grind your bottom half against his face, feeling your sweet release beginning to spread through you. 
It wasn’t long before the coil inside you had completely snapped, your orgasm spreading through every inch of your body as you cried out Javi’s name, his fingertips digging into the meat of your thighs as he relentlessly worked you through your high, only stopping as the the cries of his name transformed into ragged moans and breathless pants, you fingers gripping so tight on your sheets, you were convinced your knuckles were turning white. 
In one swift motion, Javi had already shifted from between your legs to on top of you, ripping his boxers off his hips, letting his already hard length rest against your thigh as his mouth crashed into yours, the sweet and tangy taste of your slick still fresh where your lips became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. His broad palm kneaded at the soft flesh of your breasts, rolling your pebbled nipples between his fingers while the other reached between your bodies, stroking his length before lining himself up with your entrance, the delicious stretch of his fullness making you whine as he bottomed out inside you, his hips flushed against yours, letting you feel every inch of him inside you. 
“Javi, holy shit, fuck, baby.” You whimpered, your brain already beginning to short circuit as Javi began to thrust his hips, the lewd noises of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy already filling the room between your moans and whines. 
Javi buried his face in your neck, sucking at your pulse point as your arm draped around his back, digging your fingertips into the strong muscles of his shoulders as his pace began to quicken as he felt your arms wrap around him. 
Suddenly, Javi’s arm snaked under your back, lifting the both of you up as you settled into his lap, your legs straddling over his as you came chest to chest, foreheads resting against each others while he continued to fuck into you over and over. His palm spread splayed across your bare back while the other snaked around your waist, keeping you steady while you swirled your hips on his length and your bodies melted into one another's. 
The damp curls of his sweat ridden hair brushed against your face as he turned his head up to kiss you again, your lips locking while your bodies moved in sync, the perfect motion of each push and pull bringing you closer to the edge of release. 
“Fuck, you’re so perfect. My perfect fucking wife. Gonna be a perfect fucking mom for our kids. Oh fuck- Fuck, I love you so much, Osita.” Javi grunted, his grip on your body growing tighter as he could feel you beginning to tighten around his cock, throwing your head back in pleasure as you felt the coil in your belly begin to tighten again. 
It felt like a moment where nothing else in the world existed besides the two of you, so blissfully unaware of anything else besides the sweet sensation of getting lost in each other. It was a moment you could have gotten trapped in forever- until you heard the familiar creek of your bedroom door swing open, making your eyes go wide in panic. 
“Javi, Javi-” You whispered frantically, trying to catch your breath and get his attention as he continued to thrust into you, completely unaware of the scene that was beginning to unfold behind him. “Javi!” You panted again, this time tapping your hand against his back, the action combined with your clear change in tone enough to snap him out of his current state. 
“What? What’s going on? Are you okay?” He gasped, trying to catch his breath alongside you, scrunching his brow in confusion at the terrified look on your face as you stared across the bedroom. 
It was only when Bear let out a happy “woof” from the foot of your bed that Javi immediately understood your terror, realizing your dog had just walked in on the middle of you two having sex. 
“Oh fuck me…” Javi muttered, the two of you frozen in fear as you looked at each other, “I thought you closed the door after you fed him this morning.” 
“Well obviously I thought I did too…” You grumbled, looking back and forth between the stark contrast in Bear’s blissfully unaware state and Javi’s very aware and embarrassed one.
“What do we do?” 
“I don’t know, Jav, just like, go find a way to get him out of the room and then close the door so he can’t get back in.” 
“He’s gonna see me naked! I don’t wanna traumatize him!” 
“Oh because him watching us have sex is gonna traumatize him less? Take the blanket at the end of the bed if you’re so worried.” 
“Jesus Christ…” Javi sighed as you got off his lap, scooching to the edge of the bed as he wrapped the blanket around his waist, making Bear perk up and happily thump his tail on the floor where he had been sitting, staring up at you. “Hey, bud, let’s get you out of here, okay? C’mon!” 
Bear was nothing if not the world’s happiest, most playful dog, so as soon as he saw Javi crouching down, trying to coax him out of the bedroom, Bear took it as his turn to pounce, jumping up to tug at the blanket Javi was using to shield himself and catching it in his teeth, promptly ripping it off Javi’s body and leaving him completely naked as your dog pranced around your room with his new “toy”. 
“Bear, no! Give that back! Fuck!” Javi shouted, trying to cover himself with one hand and chase Bear with the other, leaving you erupting in laughter at the comical sight beginning to unfold in real time in front of you. “Oh, so you think this is funny now? No, Bear, drop it!” Javi groaned, finally getting a grip on the blanket Bear had taken as he released it from his mouth, Javi frantically scrambling to wrap it back around his waist. 
“... It is a little funny…” You snickered, trying your best to contain your giggles as Javi rolled his eyes, letting out a huff of frustration as he started to herd Bear into the hallway again. Throwing one of the balls that Bear had left behind in your bedroom, your dog quickly scampered away in a hasteful chase while Javi quickly shut the door behind him, triple checking to make sure it was locked. Javi let out a few deep breaths, the two of you laughing to yourselves, only to be interrupted by whines and scratches coming from the other side of the door. 
A small frown spread between Javi’s cheeks hearing the sad noises whimpering in the hallway, looking back at you with even sadder puppy dog eyes than you were convinced your dog would be giving you from outside your bedroom. You sighed, giving him a slightly annoyed look, knowing that for as much as you loved your dog, Javi had a soft spot for Bear like no other, and the thought of leaving him sad and alone without the two of you was making him crack quicker than you had anticipated. 
“Javi, he’s a dog, I promise, he’ll be fine.” You sighed, reading the concerned look plastered across Javi’s face with his back pressed to the bedroom door. 
“I know… He just sounds so sad. I don’t want him to think we’re mad at him.” Javi pouted, his frown growing even bigger as Bear’s whines became louder and louder. 
“Javi… Seriously?” You sassed, knowing that any other time you would have relished in the sweet sentiment of how much Javi loved your dog, but right now, that was the last thing your horny brain really seemed to care about. 
“Fine, fine.” He huffed, dropping the blanket and making his way back to the bed, climbing his way back on the mattress, hovering over you. His lips met yours again, trailing down your face and collarbone as you reached between your bodies to wrap your hands around Javi’s cock, beginning to stroke him in hopes your efforts would help get him hard again after the incident with the dog had not done him any favors. 
Over your muffled moans and wet kisses, Bear’s pathetic whines carried through the door, becoming harder and harder to ignore as Javi’s dick was becoming less and less hard. 
“You’re not gonna be able to stop thinking about the dog, are you?” You laughed to yourself, your grasp dropping from around his cock, still soft despite your efforts, Javi’s head dropping into your shoulder in defeat, letting out a frustrated exhale in silent agreement. 
“I’m sorry…” He grumbled, now flopping over next to you on the bed, burying his head in his hands in embarrassment. 
“You are such a softie, Javier Jesús Peña. Literally and figuratively.” You giggled, playfully crossing your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow at Javi. You couldn’t even pretend to be mad, because as much as you wanted to be, the way Javi was too sweet for his own damn good with your dog had you imagining what he’d be like as a dad, and that- that was enough to melt you in a puddle faster than a snowman in the middle of July. “Alright, let’s get dressed. As much as I hate to admit it, I think this is the universe’s way of telling us we probably have more important things to do on the day before our wedding that wrangle our dog out of our bedroom so we can fuck.” 
You let out an overdramatic grunt as you pushed yourself out of bed, fishing Javi’s oversized t-shirt off of the floor and throwing it over your top, followed by your sleep shorts and tossing Javi’s boxers back to him as he stood sheepishly by the door. 
“I’m not that big of a sap…” Javi grumbled reluctantly, shuffling his underwear over his hips rolling his eyes at you as you met him by the door, draping your arms around his neck and pressing up on your tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on his unshaven stubble. 
“You 100% are, even if you won’t admit it. And that,” You paused, pressing another peck of your lips to his, “Is reason number 3,452 why I love you so much.” 
“3,452? That’s it?” He teased, playfully shaking you in his grasp before wrapping his hand around the back of your head, pulling it closer to his bare chest as he buried a kiss in the messy roots of your hair. “Seems kinda low.” 
“Better watch yourself, Peña, or I’ll make it 3,451.” You smirked, giving him a little nudge as you reached over to the doorknob, letting Bear stampede into your room and hop up onto your bed, gleefully wiggling at the sight of his two favorite people. “And you, mister, are so lucky that you are so cute and that your dad can’t say no to you. Whaddya say, stinker, should we take you for one last walk before your mom and dad get married? And then hopefully you’ll be tired enough by the time we get back to let us finish what we started?” 
“You are fucking ridiculous, you know that right?” Javi grinned, gently cupping his hand over your cheek, rubbing his thumb against your skin. 
“A ridiculous woman who is about to be your wife, so that’s on you, ya goof.” 
“God, I love you.” 
“I love you, too. Let’s go get married.” 
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When Javi had asked you to marry him, there had never been a shred of doubt in your mind that your answer would be anything less than a resounding yes. There hadn’t been a single shred of doubt or worry since he slid that ring on your finger last November, and you knew that your plans for a small wedding with your close friends and family on the Peña ranch was the perfect way to celebrate the beginning of the rest of your lives together. 
You had no fears or worries that tomorrow was going to be anything less than perfect, not a single care or stress in the world. 
But everyone else’s stress was enough to make you age another 40 years before you even had the chance to say  “I do.” 
Your family had flown in from Chicago earlier in the week, followed by the Murphy family, staying in your nearly finished new home to help the two of you prepare for the big day, although the word “prepare” seemed to have quite different definitions depending on who you asked. 
To your mom, Connie, and sister-in-law, prepared meant steaming your dress, triple checking the amount of silverware for dinner, harassing you about finally getting your nails painted and creating her 407th checklist of to-do’s since landing in Laredo on Wednesday. 
To Steve and your brothers, it meant barely remembering to bring their suits with them on the plane and asking Javi to come out to the bar with them to have some fun before the wedding instead of working on either of their speeches they were supposed to be giving.  
To your nieces and the Murphy girls, it meant forming a ferocious girl gang of 5 and constantly pestering anyone they could find to take them to Mr. Chucho’s to go play with the cows and the horses since wedding planning was clearly not as fun as being at the farm with the animals. 
To your dad and Chucho, it meant staying as far away from the whole situation as possible and being forever thankful there was at least one TV set up in your new house where he could watch ESPN in peace. 
And to you and Javi, it meant the best you could do was take a deep breath and pray that one way or another, you would survive everyone’s stress and all made it to live to see your wedding day. 
With less than 24 hours to go, everyone in the wedding had found themselves gathered at the Peña ranch for final preparations, your rehearsal dinner, and getting all the girls settled to spend the night at the ranch to get their hair and makeup done the next morning, while the boys would migrate to your new house, considering the most getting ready they had to do was fix their hair and put on their suits. While everyone else was busy with dinner, decorations, or in your brother’s case, distracting everyone else from doing what they were supposed to be, you had found a moment to sneak away into Javi’s room where you were planning on staying for the night, looking for at least a few moments of peace and quiet amongst the chaos. 
“You doin’ okay, Mrs. Peña?” Javi’s soft voice cooed from the doorway of his old bedroom, watching you sort through your 3rd bag of things you had packed to make sure you were prepared for tomorrow morning, quietly laughing to himself at your meticulous packing and organizing. 
The familiar sound made your head turn, letting out a quiet sigh and smile of relief to see it was your future husband standing in the doorway, and not anyone else asking you for something or plans about tomorrow. 
“I’m okay, this is all just-” 
“A lot?” He chuckled, making his way into the room to sit next to your bags spread across his old bed, outstretching his arms to pull you in for a hug to try and distract you from the stress he could feel radiating from all the way outside the door, knowing you had probably needed a break from all the hustle and bustle happening outside from last minute set up and rehearsal dinner. 
“Yeah, a lot.” You huffed, feeling your body sink into Javi’s embrace, savoring in the familiarity of his warmth and savory scent, feeling the tension ease in your body as you remembered the reason for your wedding holding you tightly in his arms. “I know everyone is just trying to be helpful, and I don’t want to you to think I’m not excited because I am, I’m so excited to marry you, it’s just that-” 
“Shhhhhh, baby, it’s okay. I feel the same way. C’mere.” He smiled, pulling you closer to him, squeezing you just tight enough to make you burst into giggles before releasing you to grab your hands in his, gently tracing his thumbs along your skin in delicate circles. “Just think, tomorrow, we get to get married and spend the whole day celebrating the fact that I get to spend the rest of my life with the most beautiful, stunning, amazing woman on the face of this earth, and then after that, we get to spend 10 days in the Bahamas, just me, my wife and the beach, without a worry in the world besides how long we wanna sit in the sun, what drink you want in your hand and where we wanna fu-” 
“There they are! Shit, you were right, Steve, you know the man well.” Your brother David’s voice rang from down the hallway, quickly followed by the footsteps and sounds of your other brother Charlie, and Steve. 
“Hey! Lovebirds! Remember that party that we’re throwin’ for y’all? Probably would be good if you were there for it instead of makin’ out in here. You got the whole honeymoon for that.” Steve teased, knocking on your door, the boy’s laughter and snickers was enough to make you and Javi whip your heads around, rolling your eyes at the goofy gang the 3 had become since meeting for the first time a few days ago, you and Connie both agreeing that the group was no better than a pack of middle school boys with the ability to drink beer, happily confiding in their shit talking shenanigans to pass the time to distract from the wedding formalities they needed to be kept most up to date on. 
“Yeah, dude, Mom’s been looking for you for like 15 minutes. I’ve already had my wedding and I don’t need to suffer her wrath again.” Charlie smirked, taking a sip of his drink while Steve and David snickered to themselves.   
“Don’t you two idiots have anything better to do than annoy us and drag Steve into it too?” You groaned, turning around and crossing your arms over your chest to face the 3 Stooges in your doorway. 
“No, not really.” David shrugged, finishing off the rest of his beer. 
“Perfect,” You sighed, voice oozing with sarcasm, “Tell mom we’ll be out there in 5 minutes, okay?” 
“Alright, timer’s set, gentlemen,” Steve cackled, waving his wrist in the air and pointing to his watch, “and God knows I’ve walked in on you two enough times that I won’t be the one coming to get you when time’s up.”
“Jesus Fucking Christ, Murph. Get the fuck outta here, or I’m gonna pick one of the cows outside to be my best man instead of you.” Javi grumbled, resting his face in his palm, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers as he shook his head. 
“Honestly, kinda sounds like an upgrade…” David smirked, slapping Steve on the chest before turning over to Charlie and gesturing towards the hallway, your brothers now scampering away in laughter as Steve chased off behind them. 
“Just think, tomorrow, they’re officially your brothers, too. Lucky you.” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you stepped back into Javi, laying your face on his chest while his arms wrapped around you again, pulling you in for one more hug as he kissed your forehead. 
“I’d take 100 of your brothers if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with you.” He smiled, bringing his hand to your cheek and tilting your gaze up towards him. 
“100? Really?” You teased, raising an eyebrow at him, the two of you laughing at the idea of multiplying your siblings times 50. 
“On second thought, 2 is just fine.” 
“Good thing Patrick’s not here, because I think at this point if he was, they probably would have found a way to take my wedding dress and put it on a horse.” Even though a soft smile settled across your face at the idea of your brothers (and apparently, now honorary brother, Steve) scheming up some sort of stupid prank, Javi could feel the twinge of pain hidden in your voice, knowing how desperately you wished your late brother was here to celebrate your wedding with you. “He would have really loved you, Javi. I really wish he got to be here.” 
You couldn’t help but feel a sting in Javi’s silence as well, knowing how much he missed his mom, too. How deeply he wished that she knew he was finally happy, and had found someone to spend the rest of his life with that she would have loved just as much as he loved you. “I wish your mom got to be here, too. Maybe she could have helped calm my mom down a little.” You smiled at Javi, the two of you both trying to fight the tears that had begun welling in your eyes at the void you wished more than just their memories could fill. 
“She would have loved you so much too, Osita. So fucking much.” 
You held each other just a little tighter before pulling away to wipe the wetness pooling in your eyes,  You paused for a moment, letting out a quiet sigh and laugh, knowing Patrick would have promptly kicked your ass for crying about him at your wedding and told you to stop being such a baby about it, just like Javi knew his mom would be throwing a fit knowing he was spending any waking moment before his wedding not cherishing every moment he could with his bride to be. 
“I love you, Jav.” You sniffed, staring up at him with watering eyes and a sympathetic smile. 
“I love you too, Osita.” He smiled back, his big brown eyes locking with yours in a soft, loving gaze. 
“Okay, well, we should probably head back out there so my mom doesn’t lose her shit and Steve doesn’t harass us anymore.” 
“I wasn’t kidding when I said the cow may be a better choice.” 
“Listen… I never said it wasn’t” 
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As the two of you made your way to the back patio where everyone was gathered, you were quickly greeted by your mom and Connie, who had very early on taken it upon themselves to oversee that everything about your rehearsal dinner ran as smoothly as it could to ensure no hiccups tomorrow at the cost of nearly driving you up a wall from their constant and loving pestering. 
“Okay, one last thing and then we’re done, I promise.” Connie grimaced, bracing herself for your less than enthused reaction to what you were convinced would definitely not be her final request of the night. 
“We think that we should run through the ceremony one more time, just to be safe.” Your mom chimed in, nodding her head in agreement with Connie. 
“Like the ceremony that we practiced 3 times an hour ago?” You replied, trying your best to hide your annoyance with their over preparedness, Javi’s hand snaking around your waist and giving your hip a little squeeze of reassurance knowing you were trying your best to keep it together. 
“Okay listen, yes, but-” Connie began to rebuttal, only to be cut off promptly by your mom. 
“It’s your brothers, sweetie. I love them, but let’s be honest, they’re idiots. I don’t trust them to remember how to put their socks on correctly in the morning, let alone walk down the aisle for your wedding.” 
“Unfortunately, I think I may have to put Steve in that category too. I think the girls have it down better than he does.” Connie groaned, all of you now looking across the deck to see your brothers and Steve, David with a beer bottle balanced on his head and the other two chucking empty cans at him to try and knock it off, very quickly nodding in silent agreement that your mom and Connie were definitely not off base about this request. 
“Yeah, okay, fair point.” You laughed, your eyes widening at your idiot brothers, their honorary 3rd member, and the one shared brain cell between them. “Sorry that they roped Steve into the Completely Clueless Carnival of Stupidity.” 
“I’m sorry that my husband is a 12 year old boy who keeps egging them on.” Connie sighed, shaking her head at the trio. “Word of marriage advice, Javi? This?” She pointed over at Steve, now cheering and high fiving your brothers as he whipped an empty can at David, knocking his bottle off his head, “Not helping anyone get laid any time soon.” 
“Duly noted.” Javi chuckled, shaking his head at his idiot friend, “I’ll remind Steve that he is a very lucky man.”  
After a few minutes of wrangling, Connie and your mom were able to herd everyone back to the field where the ceremony was taking place, quizzing all members of the wedding party about their positions and timing to walk down the aisle after explaining for the 6th time, mostly because 5 out of the 6 times, your brothers had completely forgotten at what point they were supposed to make their appearance.
Even though it was the 4th practice round tonight, you couldn't keep the excited butterflies in your stomach from churning as you met Javi at the end of the aisle, staring up at the lovestruck gaze in his sweet brown eyes while he took your hand in his, softly mouthing “I love you” just loud enough for only you to hear, knowing that the next time you met him here, it would be the real thing. 
With your mom and Connie satisfied enough, everyone was set free to disperse and enjoy the rest of the night for the next few hours, until it was time to send everyone their separate ways before the big day. 
As you and Javi were making your way back to the patio, the two of you felt little hands tugging at the back of your clothes, whipping around to see the girl gang of your niece’s and the Murphy’s, all staring up at you and Javi with scheming grins and puppy dog eyes. 
“Auntie Bear? Uncle Javi?” Your niece Olivia questioned, placing herself at the front of the group to signify herself as the unofficial leader, making you already aware she was going to try and persuade you of something given her syrupy tone. 
“Yes, Miss Olivia?” You replied, crouching down to her level, knowingly raising an eyebrow at her, giving her a little smirk. 
“Wellllll, we were all wondering if maybeeeeee, you and Uncle Javi could go take us to see the horses before we have to go to bed?” If Olivia’s eyes couldn’t have been any wider, the rest of the girl’s sure were, practically pleading with you and Javi as they playfully pouted, chanting a chorus of “please, please, please, please, pleaseeeeeee?” 
“I don’t know girls, it’s starting to get late, we may not have a lot of time.” You responded, pushing yourself back up to stand as you looked over at Javi, running his hand over the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. 
“I mean… We probably have enough time.” He muttered with a little shrug, looking back over at you, trying to hide the puddle he was turning into as the girl's adorable begging began to melt him. Hearing his response, the girls started to squeal in delight, jumping up and down before tackling Javi with hugs of gratitude. 
“Thank you, Mr. Javi!” The older Olivia screeched, beaming with joy as her younger sister snuck between her and Javi, wrapping her arms around his leg with such force it almost took him to the ground. 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best Uncle Javi!” Your nieces squealed, now joining Abby on Javi’s free leg and trapping him in their grasp. 
“Alright well let’s not break Uncle Javi before we make it to the barn.” You laughed, peeling the girls off of him as they giggled and squirmed. “How about this? Why don’t you guys race to the gate, and we’ll meet you over there?” 
“Okay!” The girls shouted in unison, quickly toppling off of Javi and lining themselves up in a racing position. 
“On your mark… Get set… Go!” You yelled, sending the group dashing through the tall grass in a fit of joyous laughter and leaving you snickering at Javi, recovering from his full fledged attack from the giggle gang. 
“I already know what you’re gonna say…” Javi grumbled, following behind you and the girls towards the barn, rolling his eyes at the smug look you had plastered on your face from cheek to cheek. 
“Oh, yeah? And what am I gonna say, Jav?” You smirked, giving him a playful jab with your elbow, patiently waiting for your future husband’s admittance to having the biggest soft spot known to man. 
“They’re just- They all looked so sweet and I didn’t wanna tell them no! They’re so cute.” Javi muttered, trying to defend himself from your interrogation, without having to directly admit the truth that the both of you knew all too well. 
“Sooooooo, what you’re saying is…” You bit down on your lip, knowingly shrugging at Javi, trying to hold back your grin. 
“... I’m a softie, you win.” He sighed, trying to keep himself from smiling at his defeat, even though well aware of the fact without having to admit it out loud. 
“Who would have thought, once the world’s most sought after DEA agent to hunt down the cartel is now getting married and providing pony rides to his future nieces.” You teased, giving him another poke before he had you squealing too, picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder, carrying you through the field and spinning you around before placing you back down, giving you a playful shake. 
“Not me. But I couldn’t be more happy that I’m wrong about it. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about the fact that I’m the luckiest fucking guy on the planet that you helped me prove myself wrong.” 
“I couldn’t be more happy you proved yourself wrong, too.” 
The promise of getting to see the horses of the Peña ranch had the girls wiggling with excitement, goofy grins on their faces as they watched you and Javi approach the barn gate in hightented anticipation of getting to interact with the animals. 
Fortunately for the girls, Javi was more than happy to let them have free reign of the barn, letting them pet any horse they pleased for as long as they wanted, even letting the girls sneak each of them a few more treats than they should have.
Unfortunately for you, you hadn’t braced yourself for the absolute puddle you were planning on becoming as you watched Javi interact with your nieces and the Murphy’s. As if it wasn’t already sweet enough that the girls completely adored him, Javi was so thoughtful and patient with each and every one of them, taking the time to answer their questions, tell them the horses names, and hoist the younger girls up on his hip so they could see too, carefully cradling them in one arm and pointing out things with the other that made their little faces beam with joy. 
At one point, he had propped up Brianna to sit on his shoulders, both of their faces lighting up as he watched her lean in to pet one of the horses and then pull back in delight to clap at her bravery, only to tap Javi’s head shouting “Again! Again!” as your other niece stood next to the both of them, cheering Brianna on as she squealed in satisfaction before Olivia was begging for you to come join in on the fun. You had to physically brace yourself as you walked over to the trio, because the sight of Javi and the giggling girls alone was making you weak in the fucking knees, let alone how he looked with a toddler hoisted up on his shoulders. 
“Auntie Bear, look at how pretty the horses are!” Olivia squealed, grabbing on to the edge of the stall to peek over and see the horses inside. “Uncle Javi can you lift me up one more time so I can see pleaseeeeeeeee?” 
“Of course, kiddo.” Javi grinned, reaching up to take Brianna off his shoulders, giving her a little raspberry on her belly on the way down before passing her off to you trying your best to keep your cool while your heart and ovaries were casually exploding into a million little pieces. “Up ya go.” He grunted, lifting Olivia up to rest at his waist, holding her closer to pet the horse. 
“I think that she’s my favorite. I like her spots.” Olivia smiled, petting the horse as Javi held her. 
“You know who else's favorite horse that is?” Javi chuckled, watching Oliva lean over to press a quick kiss into the horse’s nose before pulling her back up, watching her head curiously tilt at his question. 
“Who?” 
“Mr. Chucho’s.” He answered, laughing as he watched her face light up in excitement, grinning with glee. 
“Really?! Auntie Bear, we have to go tell Mr. Chucho that we have the same favorite horse! Can we go tell him?” 
“Absolutely, Cutie Patootie. We should probably start heading back anyway, we don’t want sleepy flower girls for tomorrow, do we?” 
“But I is not even tieward.” Brianna pouted, letting out a long yawn after the end of her sentence, rubbing her eyes in contradiction to her statement, you and Javi quietly smirking at each other at your sleepy niece, gently resting her head against your chest. 
“Of course you aren’t, Lil Miss. Liv, why don’t you go get the other girls and start heading back, okay? You guys can say goodbye to the horses on the way out.” 
“You got it, Auntie Bear! C’mon you guys, let’s go, let’s go!” Before you could barely finish your sentence, Olivia was grabbing the rest of the girls, practically dragging them through the barn, the gaggle of girls racing past the stables and out the barn door as you and Javi trailed behind with Brianna sleepily situated in your arms. You were no less than 10 feet out of the stables before you could feel Brianna’s little snores against your chest, quietly laughing to yourself as you kissed her head, pulling her closer to you. 
“Not sleepy, huh? God, you are getting heavy though, especially with your sleeping dead weight.” You laughed quietly to yourself, readjusting Brianna in your arms before looking over at Javi, his eyes wide and enamored, quietly watching you hold your niece, letting his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he gulped before speaking. 
“You uh- do you um, want me to hold her? If, um, if she’s heavy.” Javi stammered, trying to maintain his composure watching you cradle Brianna, unable to shake the image of what you would look like holding his baby in your arms, and how desperately he wished it was. 
You paused, looking over at Javi, trying not to blush at the awestruck look on his face, knowing he didn’t need to say a single word to hear what was running through his brain, and how much it made you want to say fuck it to your already agreed upon plans to hold out on trying for a baby until after tomorrow and your house was finished.  God, at this point, you’d give this man a baby yesterday, every moment he spent with your nieces or the Murphy girls only making your ovaries weaker and weaker at what a good dad you knew he was going to make. 
“No, I’m okay. Plus, I think if I watch you hold her, I’m gonna lose any last ounce of self-control that I have.” It was also taking every last ounce of self-control to keep your ridiculously goofy grin from spreading any further across your face than it already was, looking Javi up and down with a little eyebrow raise, watching a smug smirk grow between his cheeks. Leaning in just a little closer, Javi wrapped his arm around your waist, planting a soft kiss in your hair and whispering in your ear. 
“And that would be a bad thing because…” 
Before you could even respond, you could feel the weight in your arms lessen, Javi reaching across your body to scoop Brianna into his grasp, gently cradling her over his broad shoulder and rubbing her back as she nestled against him with a little sleepy yawn. 
“Okay, well that isn’t fair in the slightest, is it?” You playfully pouted, crossing your now freed arms over your chest at Javi, the image of him carrying Brianna turning you closer and closer into a human puddle with every passing second. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Osita.” He smirked, shooting you a quick wink before hoisting Brianna up and wrapping his hand around the back of her head, cuddling her against his chest as he trotted back towards the house, leaving you a dumbfounded, lovestruck, baby craving mess in his wake. 
Javi seemed to have no problem testing every last bit of strength you had- carrying Brianna, playing with the girls, being the cutest damn thing you’d ever seen interacting with your nieces and the Murphys?  If this was meant to be a test of your strength, you were quickly realizing that you were turning out to be nothing if not a weak, weak woman who needed to make that man father almost as fast as you were about to make him your husband. 
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As the fluorescent pink and orange sunset began to dip below the horizon, the sky shifting from colorful pastels to star speckled darkness, the festivities of the night were beginning to wind down- As hard as they had tried to fight it, your flower girls had barely made it 5 minutes after getting back from the horse barn before they were asleep in the lawn chairs scattered around the yard, your mom and Connie had finished their 15th round of surveillance to make sure that everything was in place for tomorrow, and your brothers and Steve were about 3 beers deeper than they should have been considering they were going to have to be both coherent and presentable in a few short hours. 
As much as you or Javi didn’t really care about the tradition, everyone else had insisted that the two of you spend your last night before the wedding apart- you and the girls at the Peña ranch to make things run more smoothly as you got ready in the morning, and all of the boys and Javi at your new house, now close enough to being completed that it was an option to house people for the night. 
The boys began to pile into the party of cars parked in the driveway, ready to transport them back to the house, while the girls had gathered your nieces and the Murphy’s to tuck them into bed, leaving you and Javi the last two out on the patio, the twinkling string lights hanging above the deck shining down on the backyard where tables and chairs lay waiting, ready to be decorated and filled with family and friends for your big day tomorrow. You couldn’t help but let out a quiet, content sigh, gently leaning your head onto Javi’s shoulder as his arm wrapped around your waist, rubbing soft circles into your hip. 
“I can’t believe we’re actually gonna get married tomorrow.” 
“I know, me either. Fuck, I’m so excited. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. God, I’m the fucking luckiest man alive.” He grinned, his grip digging just a little tighter into your side, playfully shaking you in his grasp. 
“I’m gonna miss you tonight and tomorrow morning. I wish the marriage police weren’t on us about not sleeping in the same bed the night before the wedding.” You grumbled, gesturing back towards the house, Javi quietly laughing to himself knowing exactly who you were referring to without even having to say, both your mom and Chucho insisting the two of you indulge them in following through with the idea for “good luck’s sake”, if nothing else. 
“I know, baby. Although, I do think it may not be considered good luck to fuck the bride the night before the wedding.” 
“Speak for yourself…” The two of you snickered, shaking your heads at your remark. 
I’m gonna miss you too, Osita. The day will go by fast, I promise. And the next time I see you,” he paused, gently turning you to face him, his palm cupping your cheek while his sweet chocolate eyes looked you up and down as a goofy grin spread across his face, “you’re gonna be my wife.” 
No matter how many times you told it to yourself, it still didn’t quite feel real- 
Tomorrow, Javier Peña was going to be your husband.
Your stomach turned and flipped in anxious anticipation, butterflies dancing excitedly in your stomach as you let the looming reality start to sink in more and more, realizing that the day that you had been waiting for since the moment you had met him was so close, that you could almost taste it. 
Heat crept through your cheeks as Javi tilted in his head, leaning in to let his lips press against yours, lingering to take in every last bit of you he could as he kissed you, the familiar warmth and taste of him only making your heart beat faster as you tugged him in closer, letting your open mouths slowly turn into a dance of tongue and teeth, melting into each other like you were the only two things in the world that existed. 
Well, at least for a moment.
“Javi. Ehhm. Ehhmmmmmm. Javi! Javier!” 
The two of you practically jumped out of your skin to see Chucho standing right next to you, completely oblivious to the fact that he had probably been watching the two of you make out much longer than he had wanted to, trying to find a way to capture his lovestruck son’s attention without completely scaring the shit out of you. 
“Jesus Christ, Pops!” Javi gasped, eyes going wide as he breathed heavily, his cheeks turning pink as he sheepishly shot his view away from his dad, now standing in front of you with a smug eyebrow raised, arms folded across his chest. “Maybe a warning next time, huh?” 
“I tried to. Several times. Dios mío, you two. You can kiss her all you want tomorrow, mijo, but right now, I’m in charge of taking you back, so you can let la novia déjala tener un momento de pez. (the bride have a moment of peace.)” He chuckled, shooting you a quick wink, your face equally as red as Javi’s as Chucho teased him. “Say your goodbyes and then get your ass in the car before I send Steve out to get you, or worse, her dad. Good night, mija, sleep well. Don’t keep him too much longer.” He snickered, giving his soni a few pats on the back before heading back where he came from, leaving you and Javi frozen in embarrassment. 
“Fuck me…” Javi whispered under his breath, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, letting his fingers brush through his dark curls, looking over at you with a guilty pout, “I’m so sorry.” 
“Listen… Not the first time, and I’m sure it won’t be the last…” You grimaced, the two of you letting your faces shift from uncomfortable guilt to snickering smirks, shaking your heads at Chucho’s impeccable timing. “Okay, as much as I don’t want to,  I should probably let you go before my mom, or even worse, Connie and Steve walk out on us too.”
“Very fair. Un beso mas, por favor (One more kiss, please).” 
Gently cradling your cheek, Javi’s hand slid across your jaw, his thumb swiping at the soft skin of your cheek as your lips met in a tender kiss, lingering just long enough to be interrupted by the honk of a car horn blaring from the driveway, desperate for Javi’s attention. 
“Something tells me they’re waiting for you.” You teased, pressing up on your tiptoes to kiss Javi on the cheek before resting your head against his chest, tangling your arms around his waist for one last hug before you said goodbye. “I love you, Javi. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Peña.” 
“See you tomorrow, Mrs. Peña. I love you, too.” With one last kiss buried in the soft swept curls of your hair and a final squeeze in your embrace, making you giggle and squeal as he picked you up off the ground, shaking you in his grasp.  
With another longer and louder honk, Javi reluctantly made his way to the truck, making sure to give you one last look over his shoulder, mouthing one last “I love you” to tide you over into tomorrow as he disappeared to be whisked away by the dads and brothers, the only thing standing in your way of officially becoming Mrs. Peña was the one last sleep that brought you to your wedding day. 
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While you were surprised, you couldn’t have been more thankful that the ladies residing in the Peña ranch for the night were insistent on making sure you get to bed as soon as possible, leaving you with an extra few hours of quiet, alone time before the big day tomorrow. 
You had triple checked you had everything ready and set out, and once you had washed your face, put on your pajamas, and checked everything one more time, you settled into bed, curling up into Javi’s plaid sheets. The familiar and comforting scent of him was still hidden in the bed, the smell just enough to help your eyelids slowly blink heavier and heavier with a soft smile between your cheeks. You couldn’t help but replay the image of walking down the aisle to meet Javi over and over again in your head, picturing his handsome, giddy grin greeting you as he took your hand in his, counting down the moments until “I do” becoming easier than counting sheep. So easy, in fact, that you had fallen asleep in a matter of moments, peacefully drifting to sleep as you waited to be woken by the soft glow of tomorrow’s sunrise. 
That’s why you were so surprised when you woke up to what you assumed was the next morning, wondering what time it was if it was still so dark outside, thinking you must have woken up an hour or two early out of anticipation. You rolled over, tossing in the warmth of your sheets to peek at the bright red numbers glowing on the alarm clock next to you. 
Well, it was morning, but 1:47 A.M. wasn’t the time you were exactly hoping to see. 
The first thing that came to your mind was shock when you saw the blinking red number flash in your face as your eyelids stretched open- how had you only been asleep for 3 hours? The next thing that came to your mind was something that you were not expecting- and that was pure panic. 
There was nothing about tomorrow that was making you feel nervous in the slightest. Everything was planned and ready, everyone was excited and happy, and most importantly, you couldn’t be more thrilled to finally get to marry Javi and start the rest of your life together with him. 
So why the fuck were you wide awake and anxious as hell? 
You let out a groan, stretching your arms above your head as your body tensed, tugging the comforter over your head as you forced your eyelids back shut, willing yourself to fall back asleep. You took a few deep breaths, scrunching your face in frustration as you could feel your body only coming more and more awake, your heart beating faster and faster as you realized falling back asleep wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought. 
Maybe I just need to go to the bathroom. 
You threw the sheets off your body, groggily stumbling out of bed towards the ensuite attached to Javi’s room. Not even bothering to turn on the lights, you forced yourself to pee in the dark, hoping the lack of light would trick your body into wanting to go back to bed, but it was no use. Getting up to go to the bathroom had only made you more aware of how awake you now were, anxiously pacing back and forth between your bed and the bathroom, trying to think of ways to help you fall back asleep. 
2:26 A.M.  
The new time you had found yourself reading on the alarm clock was now making your anxiety skyrocket, wondering how you had already been awake for almost a half an hour with no sign of falling back asleep in sight. It also didn’t help that your mind was now beginning to race, the nagging thought of trying to power through tomorrow, the most important day of your life, with only 3 hours of sleep only adding to your stress. 
Sitting on the edge of the bed, your leg was bouncing in sync with your rapid heart rate, wondering how the hell you were going to get yourself any sleep before the sun rose. Letting your back flop against the mattress, you let out a huff of frustration, burying your head under all of the pillows on Javi’s bed, desperate to find any remedy to ease you back to sleep. You sat there for a few minutes, but of course, with it being of absolutely zero use, you were back to sitting up, looking around the room for any sort of solution to your sleepless night. 
Boring books. Perfect. 
Eyeing the shelf across the room, you grabbed the most uninteresting looking book you could find, quickly settling on the well worn copy of The Hobbit, based on sheer volume alone. Clicking on the lamp resting on the nightstand, you let the warm glow of the light illuminate the room, shadows dancing against the walls as you tried to settle back between the sheets, opening up the book and letting your eyes graze back and forth the tiny ink print. Even though you were taking in the words on the page, you knew for a fact it wasn’t even close to actually reading, glancing back and forth at the blaring red number of the alarm clock every 2 minutes, as if you were going to magically will yourself to fall asleep and make it morning. 
After a failed half hour of staring at the book, you now felt even more frustrated than before, feeling the panicked tears beginning to well in your eyes as the clock crept close to 3:00 AM and you were wide awake as ever. Burying your head in your hands, you could feel your chest growing heavier with each deep breath, slowly feeling like a pile of bricks had been set on top of you as you began to sob quietly, feeling the inevitable panic and defeat wash over you. 
You weren’t falling back asleep. 
As you rolled over to face the cold and empty half of your bed, you wished with every bone in your body that Javi was there next to you, able to pull you close and promise you that everything was going to be okay, and even if it wasn’t, at least  you’d have him there with you instead of the empty and lonely void of his dark childhood bedroom. 
At this point, the thought of even just hearing his voice seemed like it may provide you with some relief,  but the last thing you wanted to do was wake Javi up and have him suffer sleeplessly with you. But right now, it seemed like the only thing in the world that was going to make you feel any ounce of better was hearing Javi’s voice lull you back to sleep, showering you with reassurance that you’d be okay before the big day tomorrow. 
You sat up, wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks with the back of your hand, getting out of bed to nervously pace back and forth across the room, debating the idea of calling Javi as a last resort  for sleep before sunrise. 
The war of pros and cons raged in your mind with each anxious step across the worn, creaky floor, arguing with yourself about calling Javi at the ripe hours of 3:00 AM to cure your desperate need for sleep. For as terrible as you felt about waking him up, you found yourself quietly creeping down the hallway, closer and closer to the phone tucked away in the kitchen, your fingers gently punching the digits to his phone number and bringing the phone to your ear, nestling it between your neck and shoulder as you impatiently chewed at your bottom lip so hard you were convinced it was going to bleed.
You were in shock that you were in such a panic to the point you were about to wake up your future husband in the middle of the night, only hours before the day of your wedding, but what shocked you more, was that you heard Javi’s voice answer his phone halfway through the first dial tone, and he sounded just as wide awake as you. 
“Osita? Baby, are you okay? Is everything alright?” Obviously worried by your 3:00 AM phone call, you could also hear the worry and stress rumbling low in his chest as he spoke, the relief of finally hearing his voice bringing even more tears to your eyes as the reality of the situation only sank deeper and deeper into your conscious. 
“Javi, I- I’m really sorry, I didn’t wanna wake you up, but I- I just- I’m wide awake and I’ve been up for like, 2 hours and can’t fall back asleep and didn’t know what to do, I tried everything and I-” You paused, trying to stop the sniffling through your sobs to hear the muffled response on the other end of the line. “Jav, are you- Javi are you laughing?” 
“Yeah, because I can’t fucking sleep either.” He quietly chuckled, his admittance suddenly lifting a weight off your shoulders, realizing that you weren't crazy for being wired and wide awake the night before your wedding. “I’m sorry, I promise I’m not laughing at you, Hermosa, I’ve been up for a while too and I can’t fucking fall back asleep. I can’t believe that you’re up too.” 
“Wow, lucky us.” You snickered, smiling at Javi’s muted laughter through the other end of the phone. “I miss you, Jav. I wish you were here. I’m convinced that’s the only thing that’s gonna help me fall back asleep.”  You paused again, this time with no response from Javi, cocking your head in confusion as you listened to the rustling and shuffling from the other end of the line. “Jav? Are you there?” 
“I’ll be over in 15 minutes.”  
“Wait, what?” You responded, scrunching your brow, wondering if you had heard him correctly. “Javi, are you sure? It’s already so late and I-” 
“Listen, I would like to think it’s way worse luck for the bride and groom not to get any goddamn sleep the night before their wedding than it is for them to sleep in the same bed. We can just talk on the phone if you don’t want me to, but-” 
“Javier Peña, you better get your handsome ass over here ASAP.” 
The two of you quietly laughed to yourselves, feeling your cheeks warm in a soft smile, an instant calm flooding your body at the thought that you were only minutes away from having Javi by your side, knowing even if you couldn't sleep, your night would be a lot less lonely with him there with you. 
“Wait, how are you gonna get here without waking everyone up?” 
“Not my first time sneaking out, Osita.” You giggled at his response, practically hearing his smug smirk through the phone.  
“Sneaking into your childhood bedroom the night before your wedding? And they say true love is dead. Don’t keep me waiting, Romeo.” 
“God, you’re such a dork. I love you. I’ll be there soon.” 
“I love you too. See you soon.” 
As the dial tone went silent, you hung the phone back on the receiver, leaning back against the wall of the kitchen, letting out a sigh of relief, you felt the anxious weight off your chest lift, the racing of your heart shifting from stress to sweet solace.
At least if you weren’t going to sleep, you weren’t going to have to do it alone. 
Quietly, you tiptoed back into your room, carefully treading across the creaky and worn wood planks of the ranch floor to avoid squeaks, shutting the door behind you as you made it back to the bed, resting your head against the windowsill as you patiently waited for the familiar rumble of Javi’s truck treading down the driveway.  
It wasn’t long before the bright flash of headlights shone through the panes of your window, illuminating your room and casting shifting shadows against the walls, the crackling gravel crunching under Javi’s truck tires coming to a halt as his car parked along the side of the house. The gentle slam of the car door shutting made your heart skip a beat as you cracked open your window, peaking your head outside to see Javi’s broad figure sneaking towards you through the darkness.  
“Well, fancy seeing you here.” You snickered, gently pushing open the window for Javi, scooting out of his way as he hoisted himself up through the frame, letting out a little grunt as he flopped over into the bedroom. As he stood up, he immediately wrapped his arms around you, one around your waist tugging you closer to him, and the other cradling the back of your head as you rested it against his chest. 
You weren’t quite sure what it was- his familiar scent, his warm embrace, the feeling of home being wrapped up in his presence, but whatever it was, it had every single emotion that had been bubbling up inside you since 1 A.M. coming to fruition, instantly beginning to sob tears mixed with relief, stress and overwhelming exhaustion the second your head met the soft cotton fabric of the t-shirt laying over his chest. 
“Hey, hey, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay, I’m right here, I’ve got you. Shhhhhh, don’t cry Hermosa, it’s okay.” Javi whispered, pulling you closer to him, running his fingers through your hair and leaning down to press a kiss on your head, holding you while you let everything out. 
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t wanna spend the night before we got married waking you up at 3:00 in the morning just because I couldn’t sleep.” You muttered through your shaky breaths in between tears clinging onto Javi’s shirt, feeling the wetness pool on the cotton where your head had been resting. 
“Osita, baby, look at me.” Javi paused, peeling you off of him just enough to force your gaze on him, his hand now cupping your jaw while his thumb rubbed against your cheek, wiping away your tears to see his soft, sweet smile staring back at you. “I don’t care. I don’t care if you wake me up at 1 A.M., 3 A.M., whenever the fuck you wanna wake me up, because today, I get to wake up knowing I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I get to spend the rest of my life as your husband. I get to fucking marry you. I think that’s worth a lifetime’s worth of 3 A.M. wakeup calls. C’mere.” He cooed, carefully picking you up and carrying you over to bed, laying you in the sea of sheets and blankets before climbing in himself and nestling up next to you, his hand splayed along your back, tracing small circles with his fingertips while your arm draped across his stomach as you laid on top of him, snuggling as close as you could into his body. 
“Thank you.” You whispered, your warm breath tickling Javi’s neck as you nestled your face in his shoulder, the faint thumping of his heartbeat syncing with yours as your breaths became longer and deeper in Javi’s embrace. 
“For what, baby?” 
“For being the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 
Javi couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, a smile spreading across his face as he looked down at you, curled against his body, watching your eyelids start to droop heavier and heavier with each blink, the telltale signs of sleep slowly beginning to wash over you the moment you were finally snuggled up next to him. It was as if your brain and body knew all you needed was to have him beside you to send you off into slumber. 
“Thank you for making me the luckiest man in the world.” 
Even as you felt yourself starting to drift in and out of consciousness, you could still feel the heat creeping through your cheeks, a soft smile pursed between your lips, wrapped in the warmth of Javi’s body pulling you closer. 
“Can you believe we’re getting married tomorrow?” 
“Even better, Hermosa, we’re getting married today.” 
“I keep forgetting it’s way past midnight at this point, holy shit. Happy wedding day, you goofball,” You paused, letting a prolonged yawn escape from your mouth before letting your eyes fall all the way shut, “I wouldn’t wanna spend the rest of my 3 A.M.’s with anyone else but you. Te amo, Javi.” 
“Te amo más, Osita. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” 
“Even when we’re old and gray and I have saggy boobs?” You giggled, another yawn disrupting your sleepy laughter as Javi gently shook you in his grasp, lovingly rolling his eyes at your remark. 
“Especially when we’re old and gray, no matter how saggy your boobs are.” 
“You’re about to make a life long commitment here, Jav, you gotta love me when I’m old, senile and saggy, no backin’ out now.” You teased, only making the two of you snicker more. 
“I will love everything about you for as long as I live, pendejo, saggy boobs and all.”  
“You promise?” 
“I promise.” 
A promise that had granted you permission to finally put your body at ease, sleep washing over you in soft and rolling waves with each inhale and exhale pressed against Javi’s chest, slowly fading into slumber without even realizing. 
It wasn’t until the golden glow of sunrise began to spill through your windows that you found yourself stirring once again, squinting at the beaming rays bursting into your room and willing yourself awake, flooded with relief that it wasn’t the dead of night that had greeted you. Rolling your shoulders and stretching your limbs, you forced yourself through your sleepy fog, shifting over to face Javi’s side of the bed. 
“Good morning, sleepyhead. Thank God it’s actually morning. Jav? Javi?” Flopping over, you woke to find Javi’s space empty, his broad frame and sleepy smile nowhere to be found to kiss good morning and greet. Sitting up, you peeked across the room to find the bathroom empty, and the window you had left open last night closed shut, Javi’s truck no longer parked in the driveway, disappearing like a thief in the night. Looking back over at the tangled sea of sheets left on his side of the bed, a bright yellow post-it note caught your eye, carefully placed on top of his pillow, taking his place in his absence. 
Reaching over with another yawn and stretch, you carefully picked up the paper, hovering it over the goofy grin on your face that had made its home there the second you had seen Javi’s scratchy writing scribbled across the bright yellow note. 
Morning Hermosa, 
Sorry I left without saying goodbye, figured it was easier if I was gone before everyone woke up and spare us the grief of everyone giving us shit for spending the night together. I know you’re sleeping good because I woke up 3 inches of bed and barley any sheets, since you were buried in a nest so deep I’m convinced you were hibernating. 
Even when you steal all the blankets, I couldn’t be more thankful that I get to spend the rest of my life with you. You are my heart, my soul, everything I never knew I need and am so glad I found. I can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you’re gonna look today. How lucky I am that you’re gonna be my wife. I love you so much, Osita. Till we’re old and gray.
Let’s get fuckin’ married, baby
-J
What you were convinced were the first of many tears today beginning to well in your eyes, one little yellow post-it from your future husband had your heart already bursting at the seams. 
In all your years of life, there had been few things you had found yourself absolutely sure of. Life had thrown you more curveballs than you ever thought you could manage, and you had been more than happy to put yourself down and out for the count. That was until a tall, handsome stranger threw you the biggest curveball you could have never prepared for- that for once in your life, you were finally sure of something. 
You loved Javier Peña more than life itself. And today?
You were gonna marry the shit out of him. 
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blueparadis · 1 year
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a concept:
tattoo artist kaeya having a thing for u, his regular client rosaria's cute little roommate, who is the exact opposite of her. he feels bad for touching himself to the thoughts of u but he can't help himself bc he likes u so much
❝ INKED SECRETS ❞ + KAEYA ALBERICH !
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+. CWs —» tattoo artist au + modern au, f!reader, fluff, light angst with comfort, some canon elements, love at first sight, mention of cigarette smoking, bad relationships, hookups, stranger to lovers, smut ( fantasies, m-mastarbation ) ; word count — 2k.
+. NOTES —» thanks to my beloved yoru ( @anantaru) for helping me and beta reading this otherwise i would've opened the gates of kaeya-brainrot; also, thank you for being patient. This ask was almost a month old and I know this was supposed to be short but the thing is kaeya is the one who had me invested in genshin impact. However, surprisingly I've never thought of writing about him so thank you for your muse. I loved writing this so fucking much. Thank you. Tattoo artist kaeya shall live forever in my mind. If you wanna check more of my writings, click here.
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Kaeya Alberich. The name of the mystery man who would always be the talk of the topic for Rosaria. He was more familiar to you than your roommate ever was. You two shared a room yet you could never read Rosaria but she was thorough with you; maybe that is why you two clicked. Every one of your friends considered it a mystery how a sunflower like you would ever survive in the company of a moon. Everyone including Kaeya. He had his own proportion of confusion every time Rosaria talked about you. 
Kaeya knew how you looked, talked, and liked to eat ice cream in winter. Not only that, your favorite colors, bits and pieces of your small dreams were known to him. And all because Rosaria wouldn’t stop with the constant blabbering about you whenever he directly hung out with her, emphasizing the fact that you were nothing but an angel in disguise. Kaeya had to endure all of it, every bit of you that Rosaria seemed to find alluring. At moments like this, one could say that they exchanged personas since Kaeya was a guy of smiles and chitter-chatter while Rosaria was quite the opposite.
True, the friendship between Kaeya and Rosaria was another talk of Mondstadt’s inhabitants, but they both did not seem to react as people expected, as people thought they should. You would, barely, call them lovers. While Kaeya enjoyed different takes of his customers about Rosaria, she, on the other hand, brushed those petty rumors off, with just a glance keeping her stoic persona. 
But, among all these happenings, Rosaria had the front-row seat of the chaos that was about to unfold. She had her beauty salon just above Kaeya’s tattoo parlor. They have been working together for at least five years. Rosaria had her shop on rental and the five-storied complex was owned by none other than Kaeya Alberich himself. 
Anyone who wanted to go to her parlor had to cross Kaeya’s floor; hence, no one slipped past the grip of his galactic eyes. He knew the regulars of her shop and had an immense influence on them. He believed it was his charms while Rosaria begged to differ.
But she was just being professional, clearing non-financial tabs that she owed to him, for bringing the immense influx of customers to her salon. Sometimes, it worked both ways, but whenever they fought, the elders of the locality had more spice to flavor the rumors that had just started sedimenting.
January, the prime of winter, of snow and the freezing cold, Kaeya laid his first glance at you. Warm and alluring: you were every bit of beauty that Rosaria spoke of, in fact, now that he had finally seen you in person, he thinks Rosaria fell short of speaking of your angelic aura. 
“Hello, I have a parcel for Rosaria, could you please deliver it to her? I would have done it myself if I wasn’t in such a hurry.”, you kept the package on my desk, “Thank you very much, Mister . . .”, you looked at his batch that reads Kaeya Alberich, “. . . Thank you so much, Mister Kaeya Alberich.” And before Kaeya could say anything back, you fled out of his sight like a bird.
He watched you get into a cab holding the package in his hand, barely registering what you asked him to do. His mind had drifted far off to all those times when Rosaria was talking about you. He checked his watch and smiled to himself. Oops! Rosaria’s smoke break was ruined since he joined in with the package you had left for her, with many questions.
For a tattoo artist, Kaeya seemed the least bit invested in its antics, yet he had a steady influx of customers, mostly because he is very professional and dedicated to his livelihood. He pays special attention to his regular customers, sadly, you weren’t one of them, not yet.
Still, he would stand and smoke at the corner of the entrance so that he could watch you go like the wind to meet your roommate with a package in hand. He would notice the color of your dress, the matching nails, shoes, and every little detail thinking how flawlessly sexy you looked. 
But he abruptly stopped the second he had bruised his fingers with the cigarette burn. Fortunately, it was his left hand but with his line of work, he needed both. 
Today, during the lunch break when Rosaria told him that y/n wanted to have a tattoo, his blood rushed to his cheeks and ears. He did not think you’d be interested in tattoos or piercings. He definitely did not see the next blow coming. “Yep. sure.”, he supplied, coughing back the lump in his throat. Of all the parlors you could choose you had to choose his. What in the lord’s fuck was going on?
The day came faster, faster than he had anticipated. Needless to say, it did not go like he thought it would. It was safe to say he was more nervous than you were. “Are you sure about this?”, “Ya’know it’s gonna hurt, right?”, “Should I use some anesthetic on the area?” His questions wouldn’t stop and you were trying your best to stay as patient as possible It is true, part of him was nervous but another wanted to spend and enjoy some time with you.
“And done!”, Kaeya playfully mused as he wiped over the work of ink, careful enough not to accidentally graze his fingers over your inner thigh but of course, he did want to.“y/n” he spoke, his tone low but clear enough for you to hear, “so, how many tattoos do you have now?” Kaeya shifted in his chair as he intently watched you normalize your heightened breathing
“Didn’t you keep count?”, 
“nine”, he said, letting out a breathless laugh. “which means you dumped your ninth partner.” and he was not wrong. Of all the regular customers he had, you were his favorite because you had an amusing story to tell whenever you had visited his parlor. He would listen to you the moment he was finished with his handiwork.
But this one in particular, was quite a different story. You never told nor was he allowed to ask about the guy you dumped, ever. Part of him wanted to console you, and tell you that good things take time but another part of him was too afraid to lose you, realizing it was unprofessional of him to offer any form of painkiller against a situation like that. Because on any other occasion, his usual customers weren’t as chatty as you were. 
He never thought of a case where it might be the opposite. With that, he thought that you, of all people, being dumped by someone was utterly ridiculous, because who wouldn't want to date someone like you? He knows he would, after all, and if he could, he would make sure the ninth tattoo is to be the last tattoo on your body.
“What about you?”, you asked, swinging your legs in the air while sitting on the bed. “For a tattoo artist, you are awfully blank.” 
“It’s somewhere. . .”, he started, “wait I’ll rather show you . . .”. and when you, in a sliding second, unexpectedly flashed him, his hands immediately found their way crawling at the hem of his turtle-neck.
“Wait. wait. Wait. stop. Just stop.” kaeya panicked as you partly opened your eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest while your eyebrows jumped and stayed intact for seconds. Pin-drop silence and then both of you simultaneously laughed. Some might think it’s corny, and maybe you did as well but it doesn’t matter, what matters is that you were smiling right now. 
That’s good. That’s really good. 
Kaeya checked his watch as you left his place to run upstairs, checking to see if Rosaria was done with her chores; after all, she was almost approaching the closing hour of her shop so she should’ve been done by the time you had arrived at her place. Fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes before you and Rosaria would come out of the elevator to go home;  maybe he could if he’d finally stop thinking about it in such an unhealthy calculative manner.
Yet, well, there was just one problem. His ears felt hot, his mind was restless and he couldn't focus on a single task. Generally, it took ten minutes to close his shop and he does it every day, all alone so if not his mind, his muscle memory should be functioning properly. But all he desired to do was to touch himself and relieve himself from the agony of months boiling in his core.
June, the prime time of summer and ice cream. Kaeya slides his right arm under his vest while grazing his lower belly, eagerly thinking of the last time, but eventually, his arm ends up slipping into his pants, his fingers clamping around his length, and finally, a soft groan escapes from his mouth. The tip of his tongue kisses the corner of his lips as he takes out his cock which was coated with warm white fluid, at the tip pre-cum.
For a moment, he is surprised, and then he suddenly is not. There is a crescent formed along his lips as he taps the tip of his cock, smearing the reddened end with its pre. “Oh fuck. This feels so much better.”, he groans, mumbling to himself, thinking why he didn’t do this way sooner.
He palms his member, a little harder, this time trying to imagine how it would feel to be sheathed by your gummy walls. He started to pump his cock as his pants slipped, now clustered at the bottom of the chair while his legs were trying to give as much space as possible by spreading them further apart.
With half-lidded eyes, he checks if you had locked the door before leaving or not. You did not and the thought of you walking onto him turned him so bad that he thought he might cum right away.
The moment he closes his eyes he could see you, your calloused fingers around his cock and now he is pumping his cock rashly, the hem of his vest being buried in between his teeth, muffled moans escaping his mouth as the squelching noises had gotten louder and louder.
His other hand gradually made its way towards his nipples, pinching and circling around them thinking of your lips instead. “Oh fuck.”, he hisses as his toes curl, his hips bucked up with a force as he thinks of how euphoric it would be to have your soft lips wrapped around his cock, to have your puffy lips on his, to have your boobs tightly pressed against his bare chest, pronounced nipples grazing against each other while Kaeya’s cock is hitting your sweet spot with precision, blessing his ears with the prettiest desperate moans from you.
He squeezes his eyes shut as his hands move up and down his swollen cock, hitting his girth with calculated thrusts. He paces up as he feels his orgasm approaching, huffing and panting, not caring how vocal he has become until the coil at the core of his flat belly snaps, making him dizzy, his hand movements sloppy, and his inner thighs gradually closing, relishing in the high he had just experienced.
Kaeya’s chest rises up and down frantically as he finally opens his eyes, watching the spurs of milky white fluid all over the floor and his study desk. A heavy sigh leaves his body as his breathing normalizes. “Fuck . . .”, he mumbles throwing back his head before closing his eyes and thinking of you, again. He takes a few deep breaths to relax before cleaning the mess.
Yet, when he suddenly heard the footsteps, his heart sank. He regrets touching himself while thinking of you, he regrets not saving himself for you, he regrets chasing love so fast, so insanely that he almost lost his hope for finding the one. 
“Hey Kae-ya, you done?”, you asked, opening the door, “Rosa is gonna be late today. So, I’ll stay and help her. I’m going out to buy some food, you wanna come with me?” You let your exhausted body lean against the door frame while Kaeya remained silent. 
It just made him crazy how blatantly you ignored him, his magnetic affection for you, and the truth was, he cannot even blame you for that. He has always enjoyed this feeling, to like you in secrecy. The more you are unaware of his emotions, the greater chance he has to be around you. Kaeya does not ask for much, just a few more days till he musters up enough courage to finally ask you out.
@tokyometronetwork
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st4rgzer · 7 months
Note
MATT BUT ITS THE AUDIO I SENT U
UNREQUITED PT. 2 matt sturniolo
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summary: pt 2 of unrequited love, you make some plans that take a turn for the worse
genre: PURE angst
cw: mentions of self deprecation, flirty jokes
a/n: for my lobe, @iha8you , hope you enjoy it, sorry for what happened again, fuck him!
Its been 2 months since i started distancing myself from the triplets and anything involving them, more precisely, matt.
Of course they noticed, i have more than 11 missed called from nick, not trusting my messages saying “im fine, just busy, ttyl” Im never like that, not with them at least. Today I’ve made up my mind, im going to put my silly feelings aside and hang out with my friends, its was i need, it’ll do me good, i know it will. They pick me up from my house, the drive to theirs being the most awkward thing in the world, worse than telling a server at a restaurant “you too!” In response to “enjoy your food”, yeah. No one said a word, that was the worst, its everyone expected someone to say something but no one dared to break the silence. I think I could see matt smirk in the rear view mirror, I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion, did he find this amusing? We arrived home a few minutes after, which felt like an eternity. I undid my seatbelt and we all went to the front door, waiting for nick to get the keys, he fiddled with them, trying to open the door
“Whenever you want nick” Chris said sarcastically, annoyance visible in his voice, as he always did when he bickered with his brother. Eventually, he got the door open and we all got set up inside, I sat on the couch with nick next to matt and chris.
“Do y’all wanna watch a movie or…?” Nick said looking around, everyone nodded, including me, I would rather just watch a movie then have to talk. I cleared my throat and crossed my legs, getting comfortable. Nick got up after putting on a scary movie and went to get some drinks and snacks
“I’ll come help you!” Chris exclaimed, he probably just wanted to make sure no one got his pepsi, but whatever. I come to the realization me and matt are alone on the sofa, the movie is paused, we glance at eachother awkwardly, even if we never argued or said anything about how i felt, we both knew something was up, he was the first one to break the silence.
“Hey you can talk to me you know, you act like you love me or something” he laughed off, my stomach dropped, did he know? No, that’s impossible. I laughed along.
“No I’ve just, just been really busy and-“ i get cut off. “C’mon don’t tell me that bullshit, I know you haven’t been THAT busy to hang out with your favorite friends” he said rolling his eyes, he hit my shoulder playfully. He touched my shoulder. I looked down, trying to find a better excuse, or hoping that he’d just let it slide.
“Well, I’m just reall-” saved by the bell. “LOVEBIRDSSS got the popcorn, drinks, and ready for another hour of edward scissorhands” Nick said placing the popcorn onto the table, crossing his legs over the couch, and grabbing the remote. I let out a sigh of relief, matt looked over at me and huffed, im sure he’ll forget. Chris put his feet over matt’s lap and sipped his soda.
After the movie ended, it was fenomenal as always by the way, we got to talking, great.
“So y/n, what have you been up to? We really haven’t seen you at all these months” Chris spoke between handfuls of popcorn. Nick nodded along
“Well i-“ I glanced over at matt, he was looking at me, of course he would, im speaking, what am i even saying? “I’ve had a heavy month of recording and editing videos, im in the middle of looking for a new editor, AND im getting my drivers license, so yeah, pretty bus- occupied…” I explained to them, half of that was true, i WAS looking for a new editor, just not actively doing so, and i AM getting my license, just not till January…but they bought it, which is the important part.
“Well we’ve all missed you around here” nick scooched next to me. I smiled in return.
“Yeah especially matt” Chris said suggestively, prolonging the word matt in a singsongy voice. Im sure he didn’t mean it that way, was he mocking me?. Matt just rolled his eyes.
“Sure, well im not the one who’s in love with me” he smirked at me, I scoffed, again? Really? Its like everyone is in on a big inside joke but me, and i hate it.
Nick notices my discomfort and diverts the attention from me.
“Hey how about we call Alanha and Madi and we go to Mcdonalds or something” he suggested. “Yeah that sounds great!” I responded, the other two agreed in unison, and we left the previous subject alone, thank god.
As we pulled up to Alanha’s house, Madi and her went out of the door and got into the backseat next to me and Nick, we squeezed in all we could, we laughed about it a bit, it was a relief to see them really, Madi was the only one, along with some other gfs, that knew about it.
“Y/n! Its so good to see you, its been forever” Alanha side hugged me, with difficulty in the cramped car.
“Yeah i know, its good to see you guys too” I smiled at both of them, the car ride to the Mcdonalds drive thru was short, thankfully. Matt lowered the music as the speaker took our order, everyone whispering theirs to him, he remembered my order. We pulled into the parking lot, sorting out all the food.
We decided to eat out in the car park, it was dark so there was no one there, so it was quiet and peacful, we were eating our food and making jokes, Matt kept on slipping little flirty remarks but I ignored them, after all, he was just making fun of me.
“Fuck arent you guys cold?” Madi shivered, rubbing her hands together, it was chilly but we all had at least a hoodie on.
“Here, im warm from all the food” Matt took off his hoodie. He handed it over to her. She put it on. “oh” i thought.
All the sounds around me kind of tuned down, furrowing my eyebrows and snapping myself out of my state, my breathing got a little heavier, i shook my head. Why was a being so dramatic? For the love of god, he just gave her his hoodie, its not like he declared his undying love for her or something, either was it still hurt a little, im lying, it hurt a lot. Madi put her hands in the pocket of Matt’s black ransom hoodie, she smiled and the conversation carried on, but I wasn’t paying attention
“Y/n? Y/n are you theree?” Nick waved a hand in front of my face.
“Sorry I just zoned out there for a sec” I laughed somehow, I didn’t know if it was really visible in my face how upset I was.
“Oh im sorry did you want my hoodie” Matt joked, everyone else laughed along, it was an innocent little joke for them, i get it. I bit the inside of my cheek, he took my feelings as a hilarious thing, as if I was the kings jester. I breathed in, trying not to let the stinging feeling of tears in my eyes win over, I didn’t wanna be the one to say they wanted to go home, so i just waited, not participating in the conversation, but laughing and nodding along at the right times to not raise any suspicions, eventually, Alanha said she had to be up early in the morning, if we could go home, so we did.
“Guys just drop me off here” I sighed, getting out of the car, waving little goodbyes to all of them. Another successful night, drained, the only comfort being my bed and being enveloped by my fluffy sheets. Another night wondering if there’s something wrong with me, and another night realizing once again that hope is, indeed, a dangerous thing for someone like me to have.
a/n: everyone say “fuck you danny!” 🙂🙂 @iha8you
should i do a taglist or something?😭 tell me if u dont wanna be on this
@dwntwn-strnlo @oneirophobic @20nugs @mettsturniolo @iha8you @lvrsparadise @gabbylovesreading
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bluishfrog · 7 days
Text
HAPPY 1-YEAR OF DRAWING ANNIVERSARY TO ME!
(Warning: slightly longer post incoming cause sometimes I gotta be a sentimental bitch ok? So let's go on a little trip down memory lane.)
This day, a year ago, I made my very first fanart. It was dnf (if that surprises you, then welcome to being on my blog for the very first time). I drew a little frog face too so I could use it as a watermark (fun fact: I still use that very same first one).
I immediately put my drawing up on twt because I told myself that I wasn't gonna be afraid of having people see that I was at the very beginning of this journey and had no clue what I was doing. That instead of being bad at art, I was gonna be awesome at being a beginner who doesn't know shit.
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I started with little doodles and silly comics and then I laughed way too long when the first drawing of mine that gained some attention was a dnf butt joke. At the time I was trying to balance shipping and non-shipping art so I didn't even draw dnf that much but in hindsight it's probably the only possible way this could have gone.
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At the very end of August I woke up to @honelle56 caps-locking at me in my messages - I was very confused and tired (I am no morning person and I will never be, fuck off with your mornings) because Dranart liked my drawing of singing Dream. Dranart was my 17th follower on twt which is a useless yet extremely funny fact about my time on that hellsite.
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I also drew human!patches because a) patches was and will always be my favorite dteam member and b) it was a really cute trend and while I do love drawing dream, george and sapnap, I was also quite happy to try drawing anything but a white man for once. And I really liked how the drawing turned out.
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Much, much later, I tried to draw my first slightly more realistic looking drawing. I was extremely confused on how to draw anything like this. Especially their hair gave me tons of trouble but given my experience, I think it's not a bad attempt.
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When hijacked smp started I obviously wanted to participate, and I drew c!blu who doesn't associate with any side in particular but instead serves soup to everyone who visits her tavern 'The Soup House'. She also wants to be paid in stories from all around the map.
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One of the events I was most excited about was dnf week. I even collaborated with two talented writers and I drew the corresponding art for two fics.
(Fun or not so fun fact: when twt had like three hundred collaborative aneurysms about the situation at that moment, that was when I created this tumblr account. I didn't use it super actively (I guess I needed another situation to fully make the switch) but I at least started the account that now developed quite a bit since then.)
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I didn't really draw at all through January and February and I actually kinda thought I would move on from that hobby and fandom (not because of negative feelings, just because I didn't really have the urge to create anything within this fandom) and then situations happened and now I am here; and for some reason that is beyond any logic and my understanding I am now even more insane about dteam.
Wild to me but we are rolling with it now, I guess.
Since I got here, I drew more than ever (I actually think I might have made more drawings in the month since I got here than I made the whole rest of the year). There's just such an active and funny community here that cares about fan works for the sake of creating and not just because a CC might see it.
Unfortunately, Tumblr won't let me add more than 10 images in one post (maybe fortunately for everyone who has this monstrosity of a post on their dash). So if you want to see all the progress I made since I got here, you can look at everything in my art tag. For now, I will close this post with one of the art works from the past month that I like the most:
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Can't wait to see what the next year might bring :)
Love, blu
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bless-my-demons · 8 months
Text
Redamancy: Chapter Seventeen
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Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: Angst and cuss words
Notes: The impatient part of me just wants Jasper back, but I have to power through for the plot. I also have that scene written and it taunts me every time I open my Docs🥲
Word Count: 2010
Series Masterlist
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Reader
They say grief is just left over love.
Well I have plenty of grief then, because I never got to pour it into the person it was meant for. It's rotting away inside my chest and leaking from the cracks. It spills from my eyes and scratches my throat, flooding everything and it doesn't seem to end.
Is there an end?
I don't think there is, because I don't just miss him - I miss something that'll never happen. A life I'll never live, one where it's just me and him and eternity stretches out before us endlessly.
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• January 16th, 2005 • Home •
Reader
My phone buzzes in my pocket letting me know I'm getting an incoming call. Fishing it out, Bella Swan flashes across the screen and I'm stunned.
"Hello?" I answer hesitantly.
"Hey Y/n, I um - well I was wondering if you wanted to catch a movie? With Jessica and I, tonight?"
"Oh uh-"
"You don't have to-" She interrupts me, clearly sensing my hesitation, but I stop her before she could back out.
"No! I'd love to, let me call my mom and tell her I'll be gone when she gets home from work."
"Okay, cool. I'll be there in like, twenty minutes." Ending the call, I stare at my phone in wonder.
Bella has been catatonic the last 3 months and now she's down for movies like nothing has happened? Shaking my head, I call my mom while slipping my shoes on in the hallway, she picks up on the second ring.
"Hey sweetie, I was just about to call you and see what you wanted for dinner!" Her cheerie voice tugs on my heart strings, I think she's trying to over-compensate in the hopes that'll it'll bring my own mood up.
"About that, Bella Swan just called and asked if I could go with her to the movies-"
"Absolutely! Do you need money? There's some in-" The excitement in her voice is almost comical.
"Mom, I have money. I just didn't want you to worry if I wasn't home when you got off." The line is silent for a few beats before she answers.
"Honey, go have fun with your friends and don't worry about me! I love you, sweat pea."
"Love you too." Tears begin to prick at the corners of my eyes suddenly.
"Call me if you need me?" Her question is soft, not wanting to spook me into canceling.
"Always." I smile sadly to no one in the empty house before hanging up.
Bella's tires on her old truck crackle on our gravel driveway and I snag a jacket before bolting out of the front door.
I can do this, I can be normal and enjoy my friends for a few hours.
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• January 16th, 2006 • Port Angeles, WA •
Reader
Not only did Bella manage to get me out of the house for a few hours, but she also talked me into watching a scary movie about zombies - one of my least favorite monster movie types. I don't do the jump scares, the suspense, the chasing - nope, none of that is for me.
The worst part was wishing I had him to just hold my hand, because with him I'm invincible. Well, was invincible. With every one of my lurches and under-my-breath curses, I know he'd be chuckling at my expense. Somehow that made the hole in my chest wider, darker.
At some point, going out and doing everyday things has to get back to normal. This piece of me that's rotting away inside can't keep continuing to fester and grow, its so fucking tiring.
Relief floods my chest and limbs as the credits begin scrolling. Looking to my right I can tell Bella is unamused and Jessica on her other side didn't enjoy it.
"Okay, next girl's movie night, I'm picking the movie." I tell them, exasperation leaking into my tone.
Both girls glance at me and raise eyebrows as we stand and exit the theater.
"Don't give me that look, zombies freak me out!"
"They're not real-" Bella teases me with a smile, but realization stops her comment and I try to hide my falling face from Jessica as she walks ahead of us in the lobby.
Vampires weren't real, until we met them. Fuck, everything brings us right back to them-
"-If it's supposed to draw a parallel about leprosy, my cousin had leprosy, it's not funny 'ya know." Jessica Stanley takes the cake when it comes to filling silence with conversation, even if it's one-sided.
Walking back to Bella's truck, I'm only half-paying attention to Jess as she rattles on. If I've learned anything from her since my first day at Forks, it's that I need to take everything she says with a grain of salt.
"I was surprised you even called at all." I lift my head in surprise at Jessica's statement, not quite rude but... "Like, your guys' depression thing - I get it-" Glancing between Bella and I, the train wreck falling from her mouth continues, "I'm totally, totally worried. But after a while... you're still not over them, but I'm going through stuff too 'ya know."
I almost want to laugh, not at her, but... it's almost funny how one person has basically derailed my life and Jessica Stanley thinks it's just seasonal depression.
Turning to Bella, I notice she's watching a group of bikers at the next street corner over.
"How 'bout a ride, girls?" One of them calls, watching the three of us.
As Bella gets a far-off look in her eye, Jessica moves to stand in front of her to get her attention.
"Dude, c'mon." Inclining her shoulder to continue moving down the street, she gives Bella a weird look, waiting.
"I think I know those guys." I reach out to put a hand on Bella's arm, but she's already stepping towards the group of men.
"Well they seem great, can we go?" Jessica pleads.
"I just need to see something." Bella sounds like she's in a daze and I start to worry as she begins walking to their street corner.
I have an instinct to follow my friend at the same time a tingle spreads across the back of my scalp, danger. The sensation almost draws a gasp from my lips, finally something other than just emptiness holed up in my chest.
I start after Bella, half to make sure my friend is alright and half to... chase this different feeling.
"Alright, alright! We've got takers." One of them says smugly.
These aren't safe men, turn around.
I stutter and almost trip on the uneven pavement. It's almost like he whispered the words in my ear, if the January air didn't have such a chill to it - I'd swear it was his breath on my neck.
A piece of me that had been dormant since Bella's birthday springs to life, I need to chase this. Just the instant craving to hear more of his imaginary voice drives me to stand beside my friend in front of a group of sketchy-looking bikers on a dark street late at night.
"Sorry, I thought you were someone else." I whip my head towards her, trying to figure out what she's got planned.
"That's cool, I'll be whoever you want me to be." Swinging a leg over his motorcycle, he gives her an expectant look. "So, what do ya say?"
After a few tense beats, she decided to hop on the back of the closest bike and they immediately take off into the night. I hesitate a few more beats, looking at the other bikers, waiting-
Don't get on another man's bike darlin', you’re mine.
Tears spring to the corner of my eyes and I turn around, not wanting to start crying out of the blue in front of a bunch of random strangers. I'm not his anymore, but I also can't bring myself to cling to the back of anyone else.
Jessica meets me halfway up the street, throwing up her hands in a 'what the fuck' motion.
"Um, care to explain?" She asks impatiently.
"I think she just wanted to see what it's like-" but I'm cut off as Jessica stomps past me, Bella rounding the corner of the building.
"Hey! What the hell is wrong with you? Just curious."
"I thought I saw something." Bella tried to explain, I try to meet eyes to see what's actually going on, but her eyes are glued to the ground.
"You-oh, You're insane actually. Or suicidal. That homeboy? Could've been a psycho. I was about to end up in an FBI interview room like some lame TV show." Jessica rants as we walk away.
"Ugh, that was such a rush."
"Awesome, so you're an adrenaline junkie now? That's cool, you can go bungee jumping. You don't get on the back of some loser's motorcycle! Crazy." Stomping off towards her own car, I hang back with Bella. She's not wrong, but she also doesn't get it.
"Let's go home?" I ask my friend, grabbing her hand and leading her towards the beat up old red truck.
Is danger how I see-or rather hear him again? My heart picks up speed at the thought - I'm not one for dangerous situations, but I also can't get the idea out of my head. It's like my heart is at war with my brain, one with a crushing addiction and the other with the instinct for self-preservation.
A new war has kicked off inside of me and I have no idea which side will win.
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• January 16th, 2006 • Ithaca, New York •
Jasper
Reading a book I found in Carlisle's study to pass the time, an unfamiliar uneasy feeling settles in my gut. Closing the book, I check everyone that's home to make sure it isn't one of them and I come up normal. Alice, sitting across the room raises an eyebrow while reading her own magazine at my sudden shift in demeanor.
"Alice-"
"I won't check her every time you get a feeling, Jasper. You're the one who wanted to cut her out." The sting of her words find their target, but I can't ignore this.
"Please, I need to know if she's... alright." I plead, not ready to drop it.
"She hasn't been fucking alright this entire time-" but her snap-back halts immediately as her eyes adopt the familiar far-out gaze of her power.
Immediately I'm kneeling in front of her, worry begins to slither across my skin. Alice cranks down on her feelings, refusing to give any hints away to what she's seeing.
"Alice, please." I'm not usually one to beg, but for Y/n? I've noticed over time things like that have changed.
"She's fine." Drifting back to reality, she stands and shoves me off with a look, voice monotone in anger directed at me.
"What did you see?" I hound her, following her down the hall to her room.
"Nothing - it doesn't matter, she chose differently." She answers cryptically and it almost sends me into a spiral of the worst ideas.
I want to question her more, but she slams her door in my face effectively ending the conversation. Anger and frustration with a tinge of despair floats through the air mingled with my sister's scent. I know it's directed at me, I know it's my fault and I can't find the strength anywhere to wipe her feelings away. Almost as if my gift has resorted to the cruel and unusual punishment of feeling without the capacity to manipulate anymore.
My forehead thumps against the white wood in defeat.
At what point does this sore heal? Does this ache ever go away? How much time has to pass before she isn't occupying every single thought of every single second of the day? I've read that grief is supposed to ebb and flow, but this - this is more of a steady current, a nonstop hotwire through my chest that's painfully constricting the long-dead heart within.
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[nano_owl] and [gregg_thecat] for some reason Tumblr won’t look you up with the underscores and searching before the underscore doesn’t pull up your blogs as available for tag🥺
The rest of you, tumblr says there’s no blogs that are available for tag! Please please please don’t hesitate to message me so I can fix!
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steviewashere · 3 months
Text
Make a Touchdown on My Heart
Rating: General CW: Doesn't Apply For This One! Tags: Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Neurodivergent Steve Harrington, Super Bowl XXII, Steve Harrington is a Sports Nerd, Domestic Fluff, Comfort/No Hurt, Fluff, Dialogue Heavy (Some facts in here may be inaccurate, I am not a sports enthusiast. All of these came from the internet, so blame it if I'm wrong.) For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is being seen and known."
💕—————💕
It’s January, 1988. Their apartment is warm and lit by amber bulbs. Four in the afternoon in Chicago, work days over, dinner slow cooking in the crockpot on the counter. Eddie’s already dressed down in pajamas, grabbing a couple beers from their fridge, waiting for Steve to arrive home. Domestic. He’s been domesticated. He’s warm with contentment.
The plan is that Steve is going to get home, change out of his Family Video get up (because, yes, the video store has followed him to Illinois), get into his sweats and a Denver Bronco’s t-shirt, rush to get his sneakers back on, and hurry over to the local sports bar to yell over the Super Bowl. It’s been discussed. Marked on the calendar. Steve’s been excited for the last several months, practically bubbling with passion at the mere thought that one of his favorite teams made it to the “big game” as he described it to Eddie.
Now, Eddie’s no sports guy. He really, really, really isn’t. But he’d grown up with Wayne watching football. Tuning the television to ABC, right at the top of six, Miller in hand, bowl of chips in the other. Eddie usually resigned himself to a night of sitting on the couch, clueless to the sports world around him, probably nose deep in campaign notes. But he’s not in Indiana. He’s not listening to Wayne’s gruff commentary as he prepares for a night in with football. He’s in Illinois with his boyfriend, Steve Harrington—sports extraordinaire, quite literally.
Steve does this wonderfully adorable thing where he pulls out his new copy of Sports Illustrated or tunes in on their little kitchen radio or flips to whatever game is on, he rattles on about statistics and new players and his predictions—what team he thinks will make it to playoffs, which players will retire that year, how many touchdowns a team will get. It’s his favorite thing to talk about. Well, it could be any sport. He knows quite a bit about literally any sport. 
“Who had the most strikeouts in 1984?” Eddie had asked one evening. 
Without any preamble, Steve had shot him with, “Dwight Gooden, New York Mets.”
So, yeah, Steve knows his shit. At least in Eddie’s humble opinion.
Which is why, even though Eddie will probably get super bored, he’s got the TV remote ready. Just waiting on Steve’s quick arrival.
And, not too long later, keys are jingling outside of their apartment’s front door, impatient steps marching in place on the porch. “Just come in, babe! It’s unlocked!” Eddie shouts, chuckling under his breath. 
In comes Steve, a whirlwind of energy. He sheds his coat by the front door, snowflakes falling from his shoulders and the top of his beanie. The coat doesn’t even make it over a chair, is just chucked down to the hardwood. Ripping the hat off his head reveals the most glorious and awful hedgehog style Eddie’s ever seen. But that doesn’t even seem to phase Steve. He just runs a hand through his hair, knocking his glasses askew (yes, glasses, Eddie’s wet dream), quickly wetting his lips with his tongue. He’s already talking a mile a minute.
“Happy hour got moved up an hour at the bar! There’s a whole block taken up by cars.” His voice gets farther and farther away the more he retreats to their bedroom. There’s some rustling around as he looks for his sweatpants. “Bunch of Redskins fans all meeting there, feels like! Gonna be the only one with a Broncos shirt. It’s insane, Eds! They’re all talking about how Doug Williams is gonna lead the Redskins to victory. Which, I’ll give it to them, he’s awesome! He’s one of the best quarterbacks I’ve seen in a long time. Honestly, he’ll probably make history with this game.”
Steve reenters the living space, still chatting up a storm, eyes wandering for his yet to be obtained sweats. Eddie’s got a hand over his mouth, chuckling lowly into his cupped palm. He’s such a dork, he can’t help but think.
He continues on, oblivious to Eddie's adoration snickering. “I’m really excited to see how this goes. Y’know how there was a players strike this season?” He’s asking rhetorically because he usually doesn’t get a response from Eddie, but he nods anyway, because he does know. It’s all Steve’s talked about. “Season was shortened, but…Considering how the Redskins are doing? This might be a crazy game. And also—Wait.” Steve stops short in front of Eddie in the entryway of their small kitchen. He sniffs the air.
“It’s bean dip, babe,” Eddie answers already knowing. “I—uh—I made it for you, for tonight.”
“But I’m not gonna be home? I’ll be up the street?”
Eddie shrugs. “Or…you could be here? With me?” He enters Steve’s space, wiggling the TV remote in his grip. “I put the dip in this morning after you left for work. Went out to the store and picked up a case of Millers. Your sweatpants are in the dryer, I’m warming them up. Just in case the cold creeps under the door, you know how it gets.”
And that makes Steve shut up really fast. His mouth hangs open in silent awe. Hands limp at his sides. Then, all at once, his eyes light up and a smile stretches over his face. “You wanna watch the Super Bowl with me?”
Eddie nods. “Yeah, baby. You’ve been talking about it for a while and…I don’t know, you’re so excited, I knew that I couldn’t take that from you. Make you leave the house and not bear witness to your whole—“ He waves a hand over Steve’s bouncing in place body. His flapping hands, the jump to his feet as he quite literally bounces on the tips of his toes. “—Look at you right now! You’re like a dog waiting for me to throw the ball. How could I not watch it with you?” He grabs Steve by his left elbow and drags them over to the couch.
Finally, he turns the television on, flips it over to ABC, and plops the remote in Steve’s lap. He’s still jittering out of his skin.
“You want to watch the game with me,” he states, once more in awe. “Because I get excited? But—You don’t like football? You’re gonna get bored.”
Once again, Eddie shrugs. “So what if I get bored? I don’t need to watch the game, I just need to watch you. I’ll know how to react based on how you do. So far, it sounds like the Redskins are gonna be a pain in the ass for you, right?”
“You remembered the name of the team?”
Eddie scoffs. “Of course I do! I listen to you when you talk about your sports stuff. You’ve been moaning and groaning about the Redskins’ new star quarterback for a while now. You think I don’t enjoy sitting next to you on the couch when you read off the stats in your magazines? Baby, it’s the highlight of my day.”
Steve’s eyes soften, they glisten, surprisingly. “Really? You don’t mind when I talk about my sports things? Even when…Even when it isn’t that interesting to you?”
“Loving you means loving what you love,” Eddie simply states. “Just like when you let me ramble about campaign notes and how infuriating it’s been to find a new Dungeons & Dragons group.” He wraps an arm over Steve’s shoulders, drawing him in close. His free hand cradles Steve’s right cheek, it’s wet under his palm. “Why you cryin’ sweet thing?” He murmurs.
It’s Steve’s turn to shrug. He sniffs back a gross wad of snot. “Nobody ever liked listening to me talk about it, I don’t know. Used to watch the games alone. Hated that.”
Leaning in, Eddie pecks Steve’s forehead. “Well, that changes starting tonight, alright? So, go grab your sweats from the dryer, slip into your Broncos shirt, settle in on the couch. I’ll get us some food, crack open our beers, and you can shout and slap my chest all you want about your game. How’s that sound?”
“Like you know me really well,” Steve answers.
“Good, baby,” he whispers. “Love knowing you. Love loving you.”
💕—————💕
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2amtechnicolor · 11 months
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We Need To Talk About Mahiru
Mahiru's second Trial is out and oh my god she just jumped up on my faves list. I love analyzing the MVs from different perspectives so I thought I'd give my 2 cents on Mahiru's character.
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My vote: INNOCENT
The first thing I really feel the need to bring up is that people tend to ignore that Mahiru is actually very intelligent. There's multiple kinds of intelligence, and while she might not be "traditionally" smart in the linguistic sense, she's incredibly emotionally intelligent. She's a master of empathy and mood making and is an incredibly charming talker to the point you don't realize she's completely controlling the conversation. That being said, I genuinely don't think she uses her intelligence for malicious gains.
One of the theories going around with her first MV was that she was overbearing to the point of being abusive, while being oblivious to her own toxicity. Now after rereading and rewatching, I'm inclined to disagree. Her love may be seen as overbearing to some but we have not seen any explicit bad behavior towards her boyfriend. (Contrast with someone like Muu, who was revealed to have bullied as much as she was bullied herself). In my unpopular opinion, I genuinely think Mahiru was in a "healthy" relationship, at least on the surface.
[TW for discussions of death, murder, and fictional depictions of suicide]
[Side Note: One of the sticking points people have while saying "Mahiru was toxic" is that "Mahiru's relationship only lasted 16 days" which is blatantly not true when you check the translations for MV1. Day 1 takes place during college finals (mid-March-ish in JPN), Day 7 explicitly takes place in the summer, and Day 15 is New Year's Day (January). Mahiru's affection towards her boyfriend lasted almost a year, and they dated for around 6 months-ish during that. The "16 Day Memorial" isn't about a period of 16 days, it's about 16 days over the course of their relationship where she was explicitly making moves towards her boyfriend.]
I need you to take a real hard look at how Mahiru talks about "love" and "being in love." More specifically, when she talks about the concept of "love," she often brings up the action of "loving/showing love" in her explanation. Never once have I heard her say "My boyfriend loved me." or "This is what my boyfriend did for me." The focus is all on her actions towards the boyfriend. And I genuinely think she was a sweet girlfriend! She loved trying his hobbies and cooking his favorite foods and going to his favorite spots. She was sweet, and kind, and playful, and maybe just a bit clingy. But she was never jealous or possessive.
Es: I see. So, you became a murderer as a result of some relationship conflicts? Jealousy… Grudges… Having your partner stolen from you… Those stories aren’t all that uncommon now are they?
Mahiru: You’re wrong. It wasn’t that. I…never even wanted to kill anyone in the first place!
She explicitly states that her crime was not based off of negative feelings towards her boyfriend, but she still takes responsibility for what happened. Compare that to Fuuta, who, despite his own feelings of guilt, continually verbally denied that he had anything to do with his victim's death. Mahiru not only takes explicit responsibility, but also pins her "love" as his cause of death, to the point where if she was voted guilty, she would never try to love anyone again. Without "loving" anyone, she has no reason to live.
"To not forgive me means to take the act of loving away from me. That’s the same as not being alive. It’s the same as not being able to drink water or breathe."
It's interesting the way she compares basic needs to "the act of loving". Not the concept of "love" itself, but the act of showing someone love. If she is not allowed to show someone love, to her it's like suffocating, like dying of thirst, or maybe...dying of starvation?
Mahiru in her second MV may be dirty and barefoot with torn clothes, but the one thing she is not is starving. You could argue that "perhaps it doesn't show," but when compared to her boyfriend...
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She's incredibly healthy.
And of course she's healthy! Her lovely boyfriend's been feeding her those bites of cake! So is the cake "love" then? But if the cake is love, why is her boyfriend, the one whose being "smothered," the one starving?
Feeding the cake doesn't represent "love." Feeding the cake also doesn't represent "the act of loving." Feeding the cake represents the boyfriend letting Mahiru "love" him. Does that make sense?
The boyfriend lets himself be vulnerable, he feeds pieces of himself to Mahiru for her to "love." But yet, he himself is starving.
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...Have you even noticed Mahiru hates talking about herself?
It's evident from her first interrogation. Es can barely get two words in before Mahiru interrupts them to ask them questions about themselves or to offer her own advice to problems she thinks Es may be having.
Es: Oh… yeah. Uh… I apologise for that.
Mahiru: Did you zone out just then? This job must be pretty difficult, so you might be mentally burned out from work. Herbal tea’s good for that, you know? Oh! Like ginkgo tea—they say it helps improve brain function.
Es: Oh, is that so? I’ll try a bit then… I mean, no! Enough about me.
Compared to one of the few times Es gets a question in:
Es: I don’t completely understand what you’re saying, but… Being in love and loving someone—are they really that important?
Mahiru: They are.
Es: Hm.
Mahiru: They are… More so than anything else.
When reflected back to her, her answered become short and vague. Her voice grows soft and shy. She avoids questions, especially questions about difficult topics, not because she doesn't understand the gravity of them (like Haruka) but because she does. Like I said at the top, she's incredibly emotionally intelligent. She was beaten nearly to death because Kotoko decided to be Es's "fang", and yet she still empathizes with them. She still makes a strong attempt to see their point of view, and even to encourage Es to keep working hard. Compared to the other attacked prisoner we've seen, Fuuta, who blames and grovels for forgiveness, these responses are like night and day.
But what do we know about Mahiru, really?
She's 22
She's a university student
She likes romantic novels, comic, and dramas
She loves love. [But she's not obsessed with being loved. Haruka is obsessed with being loved, Haruka wants to be loved and taken care of, Haruka killed out of jealousy and for attention because he didn't feel loved enough. We never get that from Mahiru.]
Everything else we know about Mahiru? Is for other people.
Her favorite hobbies? Whatever her partner is doing.
Her fashion sense? Whatever will catch her partner's eye.
Her favorite food? Well, as long her partner cooks it, anything's her favorite!
The only time we ever get a sense of her and her boyfriend possibly disagreeing on something is Day 14 in MV1. Mahiru wants to see a French film and begs her boyfriend to take her. This is odd, because just a few scenes ago, she was bragging about how their tastes in films perfectly line up. If their tastes are the same, why would she have to beg him to take her to see this one?
Mahiru, like Yuno, is hiding behind a facade. But unlike Yuno, Mahiru doesn't have a strong core underneath her mirroring. Yuno can drop her "nice girl" act and she still has strong opinions and feelings and acts accordingly. Mahiru, when you try to go behind her mask, clams up, redirects, searches for a way out.
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So. Back to cake.
The boyfriend feeds pieces of himself to Mahiru. He makes himself vulnerable, he lets her in, lets her care for him, lets her "love" him.
But Mahiru? She never feeds him until the very end, and even then, her "cake" isn't anything edible.
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She's not stupid. She knows she can't give him what he really wants: any sort of vulnerability.
Their relationship is one-sided, but not because Mahiru is toxic or the boyfriend is apathetic. Their relationship is one sided because that's how Mahiru wants it to be. She wants to be the perfect girlfriend, because, if we're being honest, Mahiru doesn't like herself very much.
Why else would she hate talking about herself? She clearly loves to chat.
She puts her all into everything...as long as it's for someone besides her.
She will outright ignore her own pain and suffering, her own emotions, because she doesn't want to make anyone else upset.
Mahiru: Sorry… for making you worry. I’m fine! It doesn’t hurt at all.
Es: It’s a horrible injury. There’s no way it doesn’t hurt.
Mahiru: It doesn’t!
So why did her boyfriend die?
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Mahiru's very good at hiding her emotions. If she slipped up and her boyfriend realized and noticed how she refused to love herself, it could cause friction in their otherwise perfect relationship.
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Maybe Mahiru was the one who wanted to die in the woods, and her boyfriend, starved for any sort of real connection to her, found her at the last moment? Maybe her mental health dragged his down with her.
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Mahiru's incredibly complex and tragic and endlessly relatable. She only loves too much because she can't love herself. If she's truly unforgivable, and she keeps her promise to stay alone...what's stopping her from killing the only thing she hates most?
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No one asked, but here's a vest tour! I've added a bunch since I last talked about it here, so here's the update!
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Here's the full front and back
Most of this I made myself. The patches were mostly made by hand embroidery (anything machine done was probably given to me as a gift), with the exception of a couple that were just markers on white fabric.
Under the decorative patches is also a layer of random fabric patches, mostly from leftover projects scrap fabric, or old clothes I didn't know what to do with.
There's also some random paint splashes in green and red, and a ton of pop tabs and safety pins thrown around in empty spaces.
The pins I made were made from painted bottle caps, and held on with a pop tab and safety pin combo, with the edges of the bottle cap bent to hold it in place
The vest itself I got from a family member's friend, and said family member didn't want it. So she gave it to me to put patches on. I used it as a formal jacket for a year, but I didn't like how the sleeves felt, so I cut them off and ended up putting patches on it anyway. I've been working on this vest since last January, but many of the patches and stuff were transferred from my old jacket that I have other plans for, but that's for a different post.
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Inside, plus the snack pouch
so much white embroidery floss, I'm surprised I'm still able to scrape up some in my embroidery floss drawer
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Front top left (from the perspective of someone looking at me)
Gay frog pin is the only pin I own I paid for, I found all the rest for free from various events and also the library likes giving people free pins
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Front top right
Got the Vulpix pin from some random lady at the empanada restaurant because she liked my nerdy jacket. A few months ago I reconnected with an old friend, who recognized the art style. So that's kinda neat
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Front bottom left
I used to have the heart/brain patch sewn on an older jacket (that is no longer with us). I am never attempting to stick a needle through that thing again. Easily my most painful patch I own. Also a little keychain ring so I can clip stuff to my vest
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Front bottom right
The worm's name is wormy, named by my friend who loves him. Wormy has been through a lot, and before finding a safe home on my vest, rotated between being a room decoration and a cat toy
The hotelier patch (the house on the pocket) is probably my favorite music based patch I've made. I spent way too much time on it, but I think it turned out nice in the end!
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Back top
the trans flag section in the center is my favorite part. The peace was never an option patch is usually peoples favorite, and I get compliments on it regularly. It's hard to see, but the patch at the bottom left of the flag is the chemical formula for testosterone
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Back bottom left
The QR code is a Rick roll, and also fully functional. When I made it, a picture of it was floating around between my friends between various group chats. I had one friend who tried to go to lengths to avoid getting tricked, until one of his friends sent him the picture, and he actually scanned it before realizing it's the QR code on my back. He was (jokingly) upset at me the next day. I want to make another qr code to a song I like more, but that one took longer than most my other patches do, so I'm not sure it's worth it.
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Back bottom right
The Kos-mos patch (blue haired girl on left) is my favorite non music patch on here. It just feels like one of my most well made patches. Not much to say here, I just like the patch a lot
So yeah, that's my vest. No clue how many patches are actually on this, or how many hours I've put into this thing already, but it's probably a high number whatever it is.
If this gets at least 0.5 notes Ill talk about my other patch stuff, of which I've got a lot of.
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