#they are something that can be so personal
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— 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖, 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍
—characters: gojo, toji, geto, sukuna, nanami, choso
—cw: lactation ofc, fem!reader, nicknames, aphrodisiac (the milk), intoxication, masturbation, semi-public, dry humping.
—a/n: i have officially surprised myself with how insane i can really be. ya gurl so thirsty she created her own universe where men gib milkies 🧍🏽♀️
introduction to the universe:
Evolution took place a little differently in this universe. A mutation caused hormonal presence that triggers monthly lactation in men for 3 to 5 days, and it usually starts in their early 20s. It is studied that it does not serve any purpose of feeding like female lactation, but might be an indicator to arousal, and even a mating call due to accurate findings of natural aphrodisiacs in the milk produced by the thin gland located in a breast. It also pains a lot and causes swelling of nipples. While scientific advancements have yet to develop a pill that might solve this problem, the most effective natural method to be proven is letting another person suck it.
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
It had been quite a long day at work. You knew you were the last to arrive home when you found his boots messed on the floor.
“Toru?” You called out his name, failed to receive a response. “Toru, baby, ' m home.” The wooden door of the shoe cabinet creaked as you closed it after placing the footwear in their place.
The house smelled…sweeter, felt warmer than usual. Making your way to the bedroom, you found clothes scattered on the floor near the entrance. The door was ajar which means your eyes had quick access to what was happening.
“Fuck! Ah! Ah! Mhmm.” You watched in surprise as your boyfriend kept fisting his cock, but wait. Something was different. You moved closer and found his hands squeezing his tits, milk oozing and drenching his naked body. But his heat doesn't arrive until next week. You thought. It was not uncommon for heats to arrive irregularly. It only meant that his hormone level had increased due to sexual frustration. Your eyes scanned his position, his movements. A hand reaching down to rub the wetness forming between your legs. You couldn't take it anymore.
“Need a hand?” You asked, announcing yourself in the room to let the man know he wasn't alone.
“Oh fuck! I thought I locked the door,” he panicked, yet he didn't remove his from his cock, just another arm covering his chest.
“And deprive me of this treat? I don't think so, baby.” You walked closer until you were hovering over him, kissing softly. Heat always has Satoru acting needy and you knew it.
“Touch me, doll. Please.” You smiled at his eagerness.
“I will do more than just touch.” Slapping his wrist away that were blocking the view of his lovely tits, you pushed him until he was laying flat. Your clothed pussy grinding in his naked cock as you leaned and took one of his nipples in your mouth.
“F-fuck.” he stuttered. “Don't. I am early this month. The flow is too much—ngh—you'll get high.” As if that was going to stop you? You started sucking more aggressively. He was right. The flow really was too much because you found yourself gulping a mouthful of his sweet milk, as your other hand reached down jerked his cock.
“Baby…ah! Keep doing that. I am close.” He is so silly to think he can relieve himself on his own when it never works. “Holy fhhuuck! Gonna c—aahhh!” You watched as he arched his back, white spurts covering your hands and other white liquid wetting your jaw. You sat up, removing your top as you already felt dizzy.
“We're not done, Toru. Wan'you to fuck me nasty while I suck your milk.” And he was hard again at your words.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
You loved spring. It was your favorite season to go out. Not too cold. Not too hot. Just the perfect amount of wind and sun. Apparently, it is also a perfect season for outdoor dates. You and Toji preferred to stay in most of the time but the cherry blossoms were too precious to be enjoyed from your windows or TV screen.
“Toji, you ready?” you asked your husband, packing things in your cute pink purse.
“Uhm, princess? Think we might need to cancel the date.” His muffled voice emerged through the bedroom.
“What?” You yelled as you stomped to the bedroom. “What do you mean we might need to c—oh…" Your legs stopped, body taken aback as you stared at his shirtless body, tone muscles and triceps flexing as he squeezed his tits, squirting the milk out.
“I am over-lactating.”
“What happened to the breast cups?”
“Look at me princess. 'm leaking too much. They ain't gon' hold it. Agh fuck!” He spat angrily as you watched the milk travel down his abs, covering it in sweetness.
“Fuck the date. I have a better plan.” You winked at him.
“Shit. Calm down, ma—ugh. Y'er gonna bruise my tits." You were riding his rock, rocking your body back and forth on his crotch while sucking his swollen dark peachy nipples. Your hands struggled to hold his chest because they were bigger than it, causing your nails to dig into the skin.
“Mmh lvove yvour mwilk shwo mwuch.” Your dirty muffled comments vibrating on his skin.
“Y'er drunk, ma. Ya like to get drunk on daddy's milk, hmm?” He cooed, planting a spank on your ass.
“Lwove it.”
“Hm mhh,” he chuckled. “Nasty fucking girl. Move—ahh! Move faster. Need to cum.” You followed his orders, not looking up once to meet his eyes but busy soaking in the drug and flavor of his milk.
“Ngh—twoji, too much. Wan' a break.” You complained, but he was not going to let you stop. This was your plan after all.
“Nuh uh! Don't pull that now.” He grabbed your ass and started bouncing them up and down. You felt so insides bursting with pleasure, cheeks burning up, eyes rolling back. “Gonna cum, ma. Make sure this pussy drinks all my cum as you stuff your mouth with my milk—gahh! fhuck fhuck! fuuuuck!” He was talking as if you had a choice when one of his hand forced you down on his cock as he painted your hole in his cum, while the other hand pushed your face further against his tits. He watched as milk overflowed from the side of your lips. “Such a good girl f'me. You wan' more?”
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
Sukuna tend to get a bit crazier when he was in heat. He fucked you with more strength, came a lot more than usual. It was hard to keep his mood balanced. You tried to suggest him some diet during those days of the month, but he refused to eat greens. A big man like him fancies flesh. Furthermore, why does he need a diet when he has the most proven effective method?
“K-kuna…agh! Too biiig." You cried. Sukuna had you on top of him, his big body splayed on the king-size bed—that surprisingly was almost the same size as him—your thighs trembling, kneecaps digging the mattress as you struggled to keep hi dick inside. Your head was telling you to get off it. Yet, your tight little cunt craved more of him.
“Hmm,” he chuckled. “Your pussy has a habit of biting more than she can swallow.” His teases were humiliating. Your hands rested on his chest, tongue reminiscing the sweet taste of his milk. Even though you were not completely dominant in this relationship—it is hard to be one when you are dating a man like sukuna—there were times when you initiated the things he would usually pester you about. Your lustful eyes gave him a look he hadn't seen before. Soon, he felt your hands tightening around his tits. Now he knew what you were up to.
“Want a taste, my woman?” All you could do was give a light nod because most of your strength was busy rolling your waist on his cock. “Go ahead. Suck my milk out.”
Without a second thought, you found your lips kissing his puffy pink nipples. You could feel the veins throbbing as you were suckling his juice out. Sukuna's milk was sweet with a hint of tanginess. Nevertheless, you loved it.
“Shhit! Calm down woman. I am not going anywhere.” His words were just background noise to you because all you could hear is squelching of your pussy and your slurps on his tiddie.
“Mmghh! Don't tell me you're planning on getting drunk.” His shoulders adjusted themselves to get a better position. “If you are—fuck. Then don't expect me to go easy tonight.” You unlatched your mouth from him for what seemed like after fifteen minutes to finally speak.
“Want you to ruin my pussy, kuna. Mmh,” you jerked your hips forward. “Want you to fill my mouth with milk as you do it.”
“Get off.” His tone shifted from somewhat sweet to serious. You followed his orders anyway. You both exchanged positions so now he was on top of you.
“My dirty human. Better stick to your words, darling. I am not planning on stopping until you're drenched in my cum and my milk”
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
You always knew Suguru's heat cycle. As the days approached closer, he used to become more and more whiny and clingy, arguing with you over petty things. His behavior did a 180° on these days.
Earlier today, you had a discourse over chores. He nagged at how you should keep things in place, or you won't find them when you need it. You understood where he was coming from, but the work had taken quite a toll on you that you barely had energy tonight. He just wouldn't let it go, and you grew more frustrated. You yanked him by his wrist, dragging his giant, muscular body to the shower. And here you were, stroking him off as you nibbled, and suckled on his tits. The continuous pour of warm water stimulating both of you.
“This is what you wanted, right, sugu?” you looked up, chin nuzzling in his cleavage. “Nagging me the whole day. You just wanted your tits sucked.” His brows scrunched together. A large hand approached your face, cupping your cheeks. He had his fingers digging the muscle on your face until they squished together.
“Behave,” his voice stern. “Just 'cause 'm in heat doesn't mean you hold the upper hand, baby.”
“Oh, but I do, Sugu—*spank* Ah! What was that for?”
“For teasing me. I know you love drinking my milk, princess. Get to it 'cause I can't take it nomo.” He pressed your face against one of his boobs, your nose pressured a little above the nipple, forcing the spurts of milk out.
“You gon' let it fall down the drain?” Your immediate action was to cup his tiddy with both of your hands—his chest was too big to use one—massaging all of the juice out. You opened your mouth and let it aim at your tongue.
“Fucking hell! This is why—mmghh easy, princess. 'Tis all sore.”
“I gotchu, sugu.” You eased out the movement of your hands, gently kneading them.
“Fhuuck, yes. Just like that.” Other hand travelled back down, grabbing his throbbing boner, squeezing the base as you squeezed his nipples. Geto planted a kiss on top of your head. “Holy shit. Still can't believe you're mine.” Your lips morphed into a smile, teeth still grasping his nipple. “Look at'cha. My milk's getting your high already.” He picked you up bridal style, your tongue still licking his puffed chest, as he kicked the bathroom door open that lead to your bedroom. “You got your treat. Time f'me to get mine, princess.”
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
Working 9to5, staring all day at a computer screen is what your life had been all about. You switched companies to think you might get something new to do, but to no one's surprise, it was the same. Except, this one man you were crushing on since day one.
Nanami Kento was a gentleman they described in those fairytales. Always so respectful, kind and damn he was a big feminist. Although, with him being the perfect husband material, you were still never going to cross the line because you were co-workers. That didn't mean you weren't allowed to crush.
“And then Mr. Sasaki from HR department knocked the beer over,” your TL chattered. Nanami wasn't the one to gossip, but Sakurako-san was your team leader and older than everyone. She wasn't a bad person but oh boy did she love tea. You fake gasped to give her the reaction she wanted, as you side-eyed Kento who looked a bit uncomfortable.
“Then he had the audacity to—”
“Excuse me,” Nanami withdrew halfway from the conversation he wasn't even participating in much, walking away abruptly.
After a few minutes, you decided to look for him to make sure he was alright. Of course, as a co-worker, you should. Nothing related to the heart eyes you give him, right?
You stomped towards the corridor almost making a left until you heard loud coughs reverberating through the walls of the men's washroom. You swore it was him. Furthermore, you shouldn't have gone in. What were you thinking? It was a men's washroom, for fuck's sake. But what if something happened to him? Sure.
Pushing the door in a hurry, you entered, almost tripping. “Nanami-san—” You did not whether you should be embarrassed, shocked or horrified. Maybe all three.
“Are you okay?”
“You shouldn't be here, l/n-san.” True. But seeing him squeeze his tits, and milking himself down the drain was the sight you were blessed to see. You locked the door behind, the clicking of the latch making Nanami hold his breath, “What are you doing?”
“You're going to let all that milk go to waste, Kento?” His dick twitched. You never called him by his first name, and now you were asking inappropriate questions along with calling him Kento.
“L/N-san, this isn't right—”
“Shhh. Just wanna help you. We're colleagues, aren't we?” He nodded.
Without breaking any eye contact you hopped on the counter, hands reaching for his nipples glistening with milk under the off-white light. You pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the liquid staining it, only starting to cramming the swell more. Kento lost his composure, hands falling flat on the counter, head on your shoulders. Couple of shaky breaths, fading soft moans leaving his lips. Pushing him back for a second to only latch your tongue on the dark pink bud, you were sure you're way past the appropriate relationship of just work buddies.
“L/n—ah! Can I?” He darted his eyes down where the tent peeked out his gray formal pants. You smiled. Knowing he needed friction, you adjusted your pencil skirt, and wrapped your legs around him, boner pressed against wet patch on your panties. Nanami felt like he was in heaven. He started humping against your clothed pussy, being rough contradictory to his gentle innocent touches to you before. But it was only reasonable given the fact that he was in heat.
He never knew the feeling of being milked from both ends, but now when he came, he ruined his whole expensive suit. The edges of the mustard yellow shirt becoming translucent with his milk, with a dark spot on his pants between his legs. He let out a shaky breath, apologizing as he slowly came back to his senses.
“What are you apologizing for? I started it,” you said as you hopped off the countertop. “Let me know if you ever need more help, Nanami-san.” A wink from is what caused his cheeks to turn red. “I'll bring you spare clothes from your desk.”
𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
Most lactation in men started in their early twenties. Although, it wasn't unusual for some to start late. There was nothing medically wrong with them. But you've heard things about. How much more it hurts, and how more they leak on their first heat if they do get late.
You've been dating your boyfriend Choso for almost a year now. He hadn't start lactating yet, which is why you researched enough on this topic just in case. Personally, you've never been physical with men when they're in heat. Not because it is not your thing, but your relationships were too short to actually be comfortable in experiencing it. Of course, you would never do anything with Choso at his displeasure just because you wanna try it. You love him too much. But the thought would never leave your mind. What would he act like in his heat? Well, it was your lucky day. Because you came home to a whining lactating man.
“Cho…baby, are you okay?” You rushed to him in concern. Choso was on the bed, hair down with tears in his eyes as he pressed his chest together.
“Babyyy, It hurts. I don't know what is happening.” His hold on your wrist a little too tight. “Fuck. It hurts so bad. Make it stop. Leaking too much and my cock hurts too.” You could hear—feel the desperation in his voice. His cock was on full display as his boxers dangled near his ankles. The swollen tip shining with pre-cum seducing your mouth. But your mouth was needed more elsewhere. You remembered your first sex education class, how men in heat can be relieved if you milk and suck their tits. You discarded your clothes, getting bare and settling on his lap. Your hole rubbing against the body of his shaft as you pressed your tits against his, kissing his forehead.
“Cho shhh. Baby you're fine. You're just in heat. 's gonna be alright. 'm here, okay?” He sniffled as you pampered him. “Gonna take good care of my boyfie.” You left a trail of lipstick stains as you kissed his body, slowly trailing towards the puffy nipples. You looked up at him for consent, only to continue when he whispered a “please”. With your tongue darting out, you soaked in the view before licking a stripe.
“Shit,” Choso cursed. You do it a few more times until you're finally sucking on it like a popsicle. “Fuck. Ah!” It was indeed too much because with only fifteen seconds in, your mouth was already full of his milk, leaking from the corner of your lips. It wasn't a normal amount. But given the fact that it was his first, that too at this age, you brushed it off, focusing back to sucking. You gulped the milk, each sip making you dizzy. It made you grind harder against his cock, moaning along with him. His whimpers making you wet, and his dick enjoying your slippery pussy.
“Wanna cum. Please. Wanna cum, baby.” He begged and you started fastening your pace. The sheets were wet, along with your neck and tits as he shot spurts of sweet milk in your mouth that dripped down your body. Some of it sneaking its way down between his dick and your cunt. You held on to his shoulder, giving his chest a few slaps, making him rut harder against you that the bed started creaking.
“Cumming. Fuck, I am cumming. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ngh—holy fuuuuck!” Your own orgasming cunt could feel his dick twitch as it shot a load out. His hardened nipples turning soft. He immediately cupped your cheeks, pulling you up. “I love you so much, fuck. Thank you.” He said before he kissed you, his tongue lapping against yours, tasting himself on you.
@kiffenisstupid @pastelle-rabbit @lxnarphase @teddybeartoji @rizzmin @yuta-nation @evxelisy @hellkaiserinphoenix @ffsg0jo @princessoflalaland @baekinola @chuuyasboots @cathybarn @togamest @katsukichu @blkkizzat
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#toji x reader#toji smut#geto x reader#geto smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#nanami x reader#nanami smut#choso x reader#choso smut#gojo satoru x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#geto suguru x reader#nanami kento x reader#choso kamo x reader
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Propaganda
Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?
Hedy Lamarr (Samson and Delilah, Ziegfeld Girl)—Look. I'm sure someone has already submitted Hedy Lamarr because she was spectacularly beautiful, and a very strong lady too: she fled both an abusive marriage AND nazi persecution at a very young age and rebuilt a life for herself pursuing her love for acting all on her own!! Her career as an actress was stellar; while she began acting outside of Hollywood (her very first movie, Ecstasy, won a prize at the Venice Film Festival), she conquered American hearts very quickly with her first movie in the US, Algiers, and then just kept getting better and better. If all this isn't enough, she was also an inventor: her invention of the frequency-hopping spread spectrum radio transmission technique forms the base of bluetooth and has a lot of applications in all kinds of communication technologies. I think that deserves a prize, don't you?
This is the final poll of the Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
THIS POLL LASTS FOR 24 HOURS.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Eartha Kitt:
"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."
"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."
"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”
"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."
"Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist."
Hedy Lamarr:
"The only person you can find both on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and in the Inventor's Hall of Fame--her radio-frequency-hopping technology forms the basis for cordless phones, wi-fi, and a dozen other aspects of modern life. She was also passionate in her efforts to aid the Allies in WWII (unsurprising for a Jewish-Austrian Emigree to America), and her name served as the backbone for one of the best running jokes in what is possibly Mel Brooks' best movie. Look, Louis B. Mayer apparently believed he could plausibly promote her as "The world's most beautiful woman". Is an entire website full of people going to be less audacious than one Louis B. Mayer? I didn't think so!"
"Described as "Hedy has the most incredible personal sophistication. She knows the peculiarly European art of being womanly; she knows what men want in a beautiful woman, what attracts them, and she forces herself to be these things. She has magnetism with warmth, something that neither Dietrich nor Garbo has managed to achieve" by Howard Sharpe, she managed to escape her controlling husband (and Nazi Germany) by a) Disguising as her maid and fleeing to Paris or b) Convincing the husband to let her wear all of her jewelry to a dinner, only to disappear afterwards. Also she was particularly clever and helped develop Frequency-Hopping Spread Spectrum (I can't really explain it but anyway...)"
"Her depiction of Delilah and Samson and Delilah just lives rent free in my head. The woman was gorgeous."
"One of the most beautiful women ever in film, spoken by many critics and fans. Beautiful shapely figure, deeper seductive voice, and often played femme fatale roles. She was also brilliant and an inventor. Mainly self-taught, she invested her spare time, including on set between takes, in designing and drafting inventions, which included an improved traffic stoplight and a tablet that would dissolve in water to create a flavored carbonated drink, and much more."
"Gorgeous and brilliant pioneer of modern technology and the middle part."
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#i really respect the directors vision here#a left arm is something that can actually be so personal#lewis pullman#water rises#my gifs
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What's your opinion on purple™ mattresses?
No one is allowed to come for me about this take, got it? This a safe place for my personal opinion which I was just asked for. Okay? If you disagree just move along. If you love your Purple I’m not saying that’s wrong.
So. I personally really dislike Purple. It’s not just Purple but they were one of the first bed in a box, for which they have much to answer for. Their catchy branding opened up a new type of mattress market. But making a bed cheap enough to roll up like that and still meet fire standard plus providing back support is just a unicorn.
As I previously mentioned I don’t think beds in boxes can provide good long term back support. But the target demographic of broke 20 somethings is robust enough to deal with the lack of back support for a while based on their general vitality.
However a huge part of my clientele when I sold beds were people returning their bed in a box, most frequently Purple, who had horrible experiences. So I’ll admit I got an extremely biased view of them from that standpoint.
But the really shady thing is that Purple won’t disclose their fire retardant. See, mattresses in the US (and many place internationally I think?) have to adhere to fire safety protocols. Why? Because before that was a thing beds would go up like bombs and were considered extremely dangerous in the event of a fire.
Most major bed brands use like Kevlar fibers. There’s chemical treatments that can work too and some folks get pretty worked up about it. The fact is that cheap mattresses basically always have a really dicey flame retardant which brings us to-
Fiberglass! Now, Purple, along with a ton of other bed in boxes, has had a slough of customers pissed off because they’d taken off the cover and suddenly all their stuff including bodies were covered in fiberglass. It honestly makes sense because they have to use something and at the price point it has to be cheap.
Now, Purple swears up and down that it doesn’t use fiberglass but really damningly they don’t say what they do use. A reputable company will just say what their flame retardant is because it’s common enough that consumers want to know.
Their insistence that it isn’t fiberglass while silent about its actual nature is highly suspect. I expect it’s either a thing so close to fiberglass that branding is the only thing keeping it separate or it’s a shady chemical they don’t want to divulge either.
TLDR: Not a brand I’d recommend.
#ask ffs#I’ve heard they have models now that don’t come in a box at higher price points and I haven’t felt one#this is mostly addressing my view of then from when I sold beds#bed talk
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Seeing @thydungeongal constantly wrestling with people interpreting her posts about D&D in ways that seem completely alien to me has convinced me that there are actually multiple completely distinct activities both being referred to as "playing D&D"
Before we begin, I want to stress that I'm not saying one of these groups is Playing The Game Wrong or anything, but there seems to be a lot of confusion and conflict caused by people not being aware of the distinction. In fact, either one works just fine if everyone's on the same page.
So far, I think I've identified at least two main groups. And nobody seems to realize the distinction between these groups even exists.
The first group of people think of "Playing D&D" as, well, more or less like any other board game. Players read the whole rulebook all the way through, all the players follow the instructions, and the gameplay experience is determined by what the rules tell each player to do. This group thinks of the mechanics as, not exactly the *whole* game, but certainly the fundamental skeleton that everything else is built on top of.
People in the second group think of "Playing D&D" as referring to, hanging out with their friends, collaboratively telling a story inspired by some of the elements in the rulebooks, maybe rolling some dice to see what happens when they can't decide. This group thinks of the mechanics of the game as, like... a spice to sprinkle on top of the story to mix things up.
(if you belong to this second group, and think I'm explaining it poorly, please let me know, because I'm kind of piecing things together from other people saying things I don't understand and trying to reverse engineer how they seem to be approaching things.)
I think this confusion is exacerbated by the fact that Wizards of the Coast markets D&D as if these are the same thing. They emphatically are not. the specific rules laid out of the D&D rulebooks actually direct players to tell a very specific kind of story. You can tell other stories if you ignore those rules (which still counts as "playing D&D" under the second definition, but doesn't under the first)And I think people in both groups are getting mad because they assume that everyone is also using their definition.
For example, there's a common argument that I've seen play out many times that goes something like this:
A: "How do I mod D&D to do [insert theme here]?"
B: "D&D is really not built for that, you should play [other TTRPG] that's designed for it instead"
A: "But I don't want to learn a whole new game system!"
B: "It will be easier to just learn a whole new system than mod D&D to do that."
A: "whatever, I'll just mod D&D on my own"
And I think where this argument comes from is the two groups described above completely talking past each other. No one understands what the other person is trying to say.
From A's perspective, as a person in the second group, it sounds like
A: "Anyone have some fun inspirations for telling stories about [insert theme here]?"
B: "You can't sit around a table with your friends and tell a story about that theme! That's illegal."
A: "But we want to tell a story about this theme!"
B: "It's literally impossible to do that and you're a dumb idiot baby for even thinking about it."
A: "whatever, jerk, I'll figure it out on my own."
---
Whereas, from B's perspective, the conversation sounds like
A: "How do I change the rules of poker to be chess, and not be poker?"
B: "uhhh, just play chess?"
A: "But I already know how to player poker! I want to play poker, but also have it be chess!"
B: "what the hell are you talking about? What does that even mean. They're completely different games."
A: "I'm going to frankenstein these rules together into some kind of unplayably complex monster and you can't stop me!"
---
So both people end up coming away from the conversation thinking the other person is an idiot.
And really, depending on how you concieve of what it means to "play D&D" what is being asked changes considerably.
If you're only planning to look through the books for cool story inspiration, maybe borrow a cool little self contained sub-system here or there, then yeah, it's very possible to steal inspiration for your collaborative story from basically anywhere. Maybe some genres are kind of an awkward fit together, but you can make anything work with a little creativity.
If, however, you are thinking of the question in terms of frankensteining two entire board games together, then it becomes a massively difficult or even outright nonsensical idea. For example, for skill checks, the game Shadowrun has players roll a pool of several d6 at once, then count up how many rolled above a target value to see how well a character succeeded at a task. The whole game is full of specific rules about adding or removing dice from the pool, effects happening if you roll doubles, rerolling only some of the dice, and all sorts of other things that simply do not translate to rolling a single d20 for skill checks. On a basic level, the rules of the games work very differently. Trying to make them compatible would be much harder than just learning a new game from scratch.
Now, neither of these approaches is exactly *wrong*, I guess, but personally, I find the rules of TTRPGs to be fascinating and worth taking the time to engage with all the weird little nuances and seeing what shakes out. Also, the first group, "TTRPG as fancy board game" is definitely the older and more widespread one. I kind of get the impression that the second group largely got into D&D through actual play podcasts, but I don't have any actual data to back that up.
So, if you're in the second group, who thinks of D&D as basically a context for collaborative storytelling first and a game second, please let me know if I'm wildly misunderstanding how you approach D&D. Because I'm pretty sure it would save us a whole lot of stupid misunderstandings.
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MASTER " THE STATE " OF BEING A PRO AT THE VOID
" For anyone experiencing a dry spell or having trouble achieving lucidity for the first time you can try this simple "mind over matter" technique. I use this to help break out of dry spells and I generally suggest it to others who are experiencing dry spells. I think it will also help first timers achieve lucidity. Basically here it is...Upon laying down to sleep you need to alter your state of mind. Basically, act as if you are an expert/experienced lucid dreamer and you know 100% that you will have a lucid dream. Don't only say/think to yourself that you will have a lucid dream, but truly 100% believe that you will achieve your goal easily. The best way to describe this "state of mind alteration" is to compare it to acting. Many actors and actresses "get into character" for their particular roles. They will spend several days (or even longer depending on the actor/actress) acting as if they are a completely different person to better prepare and play their role. Basically, you are trying to "get into the character" of an experienced/expert lucid dreamer. You could even go as far as getting into the character of "The Best Lucid Dreamer Ever." The idea is to fall asleep knowing and expecting yourself to become lucid, because you have done it millions of times before and it is easy for you. If you can do it correctly, and truly convince yourself that you will achieve lucidity, than it will greatly raise your chances of success. During a dry spell, I do this for as many nights as I need to break it. I usually am able to overcome my dry spell the very first night trying. Make sure that if you do not succeed, that you stay "in-character" and tell yourself/convince yourself that last night was a fluke and there is no way you won't become lucid the next night. You would be surprised how well this simple method can work. All it takes is a bit of "acting" " . CREDITS TO KING YOSHI ON DREAM VIEW
What makes this technique work?
So basically, this is an extremely easy technique to enter the void with and manifest your desires. Changing your state is extremely valuable and will get your desires overnight! If you don't know what a state is - " A state is an attitude of mind, a state of experience with a body of beliefs which you live by". Our beliefs and behaviours naturally change always as we shift into different states of mind. If you consciously change your behaviour/ attitude towards certain subject, naturally you will align yourself with your desired state. For example, if you are always checking the 3D for your manifestation and wondering why you did not receive it, you're in a state of not having what you want becuz you constantly checking the 3D. If I had something I want, will I constantly be looking for evidence of it? No, I will simply know I have it.
How to do this technique :
RIGHT NOW, ASK YOURSELF THIS QUESTION " IF I HAD WHAT I WANT, HOW WOULD IT MAKE ME FEEL"? AND BE IN THAT DESIRED STATE.
In order to master the void state - JUST GET INTO CHARACTER OF HOW EASY IT IS FOR YOU TO ENTER THE VOID
Example of using this method for the void -
Change " i can't enter the void state '" to " the void state is extremely easy to enter" embody that feeling of knowing that you always enter the void state easily. What attitude will you have if you keep on entering the void? Expect it to happen as if it always happened to you. If you embodied your desired state the right way, you won't be thinking thoughts like " this is not going to work" because you'll know that you will enter the void state with any method. What type of character attributes will you have if you entered the void state? How will you feel knowing that you can enter the void state easily? GET INTO CHARACTER OF SOMEONE THAT IS EXPERIENCED IN ENTERING THE VOID!!
YOU CAN AFFIRM, IMAGINE, RANT WHATEVER GETS YOU INTO A STATE OF ENTERING THE VOID EASILY DO IT!!
Success stories of changing states :
Marilyn Monroe embodied the version of her desired self and everything around her changed immediately
I’ll never forget the day Marilyn and I were walking around New York City, just having a stroll on a nice day. She loved New York because no one bothered her there like they did in Hollywood, she could put on her plain-Jane clothes and no one would notice her. She loved that. So, as we we’re walking down Broadway, she turns to me and says, ‘Do you want to see me become her?’ I didn’t know what she meant but I just said ‘Yes’ — and then I saw it. I don’t know how to explain what she did because it was so very subtle, but she turned something on within herself that was almost like magic. And suddenly cars were slowing, and people were turning their heads and stopping to stare. They were recognizing that this was Marilyn Monroe as if she pulled off a mask or something, even though a second ago nobody noticed her. I had never seen anything like it before.”
“I dreamed of myself walking proudly in beautiful clothes and being admired by everyone and overhearing words of praise. I made up the praises and repeated them aloud as if someone else were saying them.”
Amy Greene, wife of Marilyn’s personal photographer
Reddit success story of how someone manifested appereance overnight by changing states
" basically i was obsesssed with this one tiktok girl and stalked all her tiktoks....she is very pretty and i wanted to look like her so bad.......but as you read i WANTED, SEEKED; DESPERATE ;OMG COULD NEVER BE ME .....so obv it didnt happen but one night i got really deep into the state of being of someone who looks like her......and my wholeeeee attitude changed....bro it was crazy i never felt such a sudden change...... i felt so calm and attractive and powerfull and limitless....like i can have or be anyone i want.....the next day i took some mirror selfies and posted them....literally no fck makeup and the mirror and lighting was the same i used usually....my friend told me how good i look she went like ´´ how are you still single?´´ hahaha and she never says that......anyways in the pic i looked like this tiktok girl....guys in my school were so interested and i didnt feel disgusting and ugly in school, my hair looked like it was blown out and my face looked so pretty and attractive...so weird i still could recognize myself but it was a better version of myself "
Posts on Tumblr about states :
Define states cr @/ remcycle
Applying states for the void cr @/ littlemissprettyprincess
How to get into a state cr @/ remcycle
badass alter ego challenge based on this technique cr fleurlx
How I manifest with states cr @/babygothprincess
#void state#law of assumption#void state tips#manifestion#the void state#loa assumptions#loasblog#loas tumblr#loablr#loas technique#neville goddard#void success#void thoughts#void concept#self concept#loassblog#loassumption#loa success#reality shifting methods#4d reality#desired reality#reality shifting#void state success story#loass angel#sammy ingram#affirming#affirm and persist#affimations#desired sp#sp manifestation
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hiii plumalum! can you PLEASE do yoga instructor reader x gojo? i just know you’ll do it justice queen!!
satoru was a close friend and regular client of yours. he came into your studio three times a week, in the back, following every move that you made. thursday was his favorite day. he got to see that sexy pink outfit that showed off all your curves, filling out the outfit as needed. he couldn't help but stare.
he wanted you so badly that he signed up for your private classes—the best thing he could've done. he was up close and personal with you, seeing the way you bent down and stretched yourself, his imagination going wild thinking about the other things you could do. it didn't stay in his head for long, though.
knowing that he had to play the long game to get what he wanted, and so he did, and it worked so well that he couldn't believe it when you were moaning and bouncing on his dick in his penthouse. taking a deep swallow as he stared at you in awe. the pleasure mixed with surprise rushing through his body made him finish fast, but this wasn't the last time he fucked you.
satoru wasn't the only one foaming and drooling at the mouth; you were also looking at him and thinking about the things he could do to you. there was no denying that he was a fine ass man; he had a nice body, a fun personality, and he had money. he was ideal for you, but he was your client. that was wrong.
that's what you were thinking one day prior to sleeping with him and having the best sex you've had in years. he wasn't only pretty in the face but also pretty in his dick; he gave you exactly what you fantasized about and then more.
pushing you through the matress almost every day while running his hands over your body and whispering how pretty you looked, his words so sincere and soft that it made the sentiment even sexier, making you want him more. his voice was like smooth vanilla, which you wanted to hear all the time.
if this was so wrong, then you didn't want to be right. he felt so good, and he talked you through everything. placing one hand on your cheek as he whispered in your ear how good you were doing and how wet you were for him.
once this started, neither one of you could stop; this started to become a regular occurrence. just as he was coming into the studio three times a week, he was also cumming on top of you three times a week.
instead of a regular schedule and having clients make sure their cores were tight and getting them right, you were instead doing quickies in the bathroom with your favorite client.
this wasn't something that you planned to happen, but you're glad it did. the sex that you were having with him was off the charts; it had you squirting repeatedly and screaming out his name while the neighbors banged on the door to shut the fuck up. it was great—more than great, more than amazing, actually.
stretching you out more than you ever could in one day. this was what you needed; he was what you needed, and he needed you even more. sliding his hands over your body and even cuddling you to sleep; he couldn't have it any other way, and neither could you.
what was a client-teacher relationship that slowly turned into fucked buddies and turned into a few years after him proposing to you because he was just that bad? who could blame him?
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#x reader#gojo satoru#jjk satoru#satorugojo#gojo#jujutsu satoru#jjk gojo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo saturo#jujutsu gojo#gojo jjk#gojo x reader#gojo smut#satoru gojo#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen satoru
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Saleswoman
Who would've thought Yuna made a good saleswoman...Well, I would have. Anyway, here's the fic for the week; originally, I was thinking of doing a Yuna gangbang fic, but then Eros presented a saleswoman concept I liked in a writer discord and thought would be easier than a gangbang.
Length 2.1K
Yuna X Mreader
Having seen good reviews about the new mattress store, you look up the location. Your mattress has had a depression in it after years of use, and you needed another. The reviews praise the staff for their help in deciding. You set aside time to head out, ensuring you researched the different types of beds beforehand. You arrive at the store just a few minutes after they open; you take in the grand scale of it. You next notice how empty it was, considering the many reviews you thought the store would be full. You don’t even see any workers as you walk through.
Shaking your head, you move through the store and look at all the different bed models. They had various kinds of technology, all meant to aid sleep, or so they claimed. You tested a few beds laying on them to see how they felt. You had decided beforehand you wanted something that was a little firmer, so you focused on those. As you tested another out, you shut your eyes, imagining what it would be like to sleep on it for years. This one was too firm, having very little give. You open your eyes to see the face of a young woman staring back at you. “Hi! Welcome!” She greets you. You jump, shocked that you hadn’t noticed her walk up to you. “Oh, sorry for scaring you. My name is Yuna, and I’ll be your special aid today.” She says with a wide grin. You look the woman over as she fixes her hair. Yuna didn’t look like someone who worked her. She wore a white sleeveless crop top from a nearby university and matching white shorts. Her red hair stood out against her clothing, attracting attention to her face.
“I saw you lay on a few models. Did any of them interest you further?” Yuna asks, her hand behind her back as she listens to your response.
“Well, there was the smart bed and one over there.” You say, pointing out a mattress that wasn’t too firm or soft. “The second one is what I’m leaning toward. It’s a lot cheaper.”
“That’s true, sir, but the smart bed is much better for your sleep and other activities.” She states.
You find her comment odd, “Other activities?” It takes you a moment to connect the dots; when you realize what Yuna meant, she nods.
“Yes, sir. I did mean that.” She states, “Now, if you’d like to test them out, please follow me.”
“But I already did.” You’re confused again, not understanding what she means.
“For the…other activities. You need to follow me.” Yuna says, walking ahead of you. She checks to make sure you are following her, smirking as she sees you are. Yuna stops at a door at the end of the building, picking up a mounted phone. “Hello? Yes, we’d like to test out the Genie smart bed and the Dura hard mattress. Okay, thank you.” Yuna hangs up and spins around on her heel. It’ll be just a moment; they have to set everything up. You see the hunger in her eyes as she looks you up and down. She licks her lips and smiles at you. “I’m sure you’ll like the Dura brand, but the smart bed is the way to go. I’m sure your girlfriend would love it.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.” You respond, fixing Yuna’s error. “Why do you recommend it so much?”
“It has a lot of nice features; I can show you soon,” Yuna says just as the phone on the wall rings. She picks it up, talks to the other person on the line, and grows her smile as she places the phone back on the hook. “Everything is ready; please come in.” Yuna opens the door; the room is decorated like any regular bedroom, with only one thing standing out: both beds you had been thinking about were set up in the middle. Yuna grabs your hands, taking you to the cheaper bed, placing her hands on your chest, and pushing you onto it. She lifts her shirt, her perky breasts bouncing slightly. “First one of the day,” Yuna whispers to herself as she places a hand on your crotch. You’re taken aback at her advances but willing to go along with it. You wouldn't, couldn’t deny her. She feels your bulge grow larger, her eyes widening for a moment as her lustful smile appears.
She unbuttons your jeans, pulling them down. Yuna giggles as she sees your bulge being held back by your underwear. She bends over, planting a kiss on your cock through your underwear, “You’re so big,” She says with a giggle. Yuna pulls at the hem of your underwear, feigning shock as your cock pops out. You see her shining teeth as she smiles and grasps your cock. She strokes it gently, watching it fully harden in her hand. Yuna kisses the tip of your cock before tracing her lips with your cock.
You grunt her name; her warm lips surround the head, wrapping around it as her tongue moves across it at an agonizing pace. You’re squirming, wanting her to do more. “Relax, baby. I’ll give you what you want in a minute.” She says, her hand pumping your cock as she moves closer to your ear. “Once your cock is in my pussy, you’ll see who I really am.” Yuna’s low, sultry voice sends shivers down your spine. She runs a finger down your chest until she returns to your cock, her lips pressing against it before separating and taking you in. Her tongue runs along the underside of your cock, slowly moving from side to side as she strokes the base of your cock.
“How are you so good?” You moan out, throwing your head back as she takes more of you into her mouth. Yuna ignores your question for the moment, too focused on your cock to answer. Your hips buck, sending your cock into the back of her throat, surprising Yuna.
She pulls back, her saliva dripping onto your cock. “Ah, if you wanted more, you could have just said so.” She pushes herself back onto your cock, making it disappear. You feel Yuna’s throat tighten around the head. You fall back onto the bed, lying down as you explode in Yuna’s mouth, sending waves of cum down her throat. Yuna’s cheeks fill with your semen, puffing up as she pulls away. You sit up slowly, watching her as she lowers her jaw to reveal a mouthful of cum. Yuna swallows it, moaning slightly as she revels in the salty taste.
Yuna takes a step back, undoing the button on her shorts and pulling them down, shivering as the cold air hits her cleanly shaven pussy. “Move back a little.” You follow her orders, centering yourself on the bed. Yuna crawls over you, her modest breasts swaying. She reaches down, grabs your cock, and runs it between her wet folds. Yuna’s soft moans arouse you further, making you want her more. She Presses the head against her entrance, slowly dropping on it. She takes a deep breath, groaning as she feels your cock stretching her. Yuna places one hand on her lower abdomen, feeling your cock make its way through her until it knocks against her womb. “You’re tearing me apart,” She whimpers. “I need a moment.” Yuna focuses on the sensation caused by your cock.
You sit under her, desperate for more, her tight cunt feeling too good to just sit there. You grab her hips and begin thrusting, surprising Yuna. “I’m sorry, but I need you.” You moan, thrusting into her quickly. Yuna places her hands on your chest, trying not to collapse on top of you as you split her apart. You catch her expression, her furrowed brows and shut eyes showing slight discomfort as you knock against her womb. Yuna’s expression soon softens as the pleasure overcomes her.
Yuna’s moans echo in the room; her head tilts back. She looks to the ceiling as she feels her climax approaching. “I’m gonna cum.” She mumbles. You were still a little ways away from your climax. You speed up your thrusts, trying to cum with her. Yuna felt your cock piston in and out of her; she felt like a toy being used and was loving it. A delighted smile appears on her face as she cums on your cock, her walls tightening around you as you continue to ruin her. The young woman’s strength gives out, sending her onto your chest as you near your climax. She mumbles something; it’s inaudible initially, but Yuna repeats herself. “Cum- cum in me,” she says. You moan Yuna’s name, repeating it as you impale her and shoot your cum into her pussy.
You feel Yuna’s walls milking you for your cum as you both start to relax. She stretches out her hand, pointing to the other bed. She gulps softly, saying, “We have to try out the other one.” You nod your head, already tired. Running your hands along her back, Yuna shudders as she feels your hands come to a stop on her ass. You sit up, struggling slightly as you move over to the other bed with Yuna still having your cock inside her. She grabs a remote and holds down one of the buttons, causing the back to raise and letting you be in more of a seated position. You found it convenient. Yuna gives you a dreamy smile as she tosses the remote and begins moving.
You’re seated position puts you much closer to Yuna’s breasts. You notice now her small brown nipples; they move softly as Yuna bounces on your cock. You lean in, dragging your tongue over one slowly, flicking it with your tongue at the end. She gasps, and her body shivers at your tongue's warmth.
“W- What do you think?” Yuna mumbles as she rides you like her life depended on it, her walls squeezing you as you hit her womb. You can tell Yuna is trying to speak more, but the pleasure she’s receiving is making it difficult. Moans flow out from her as her walls tighten around you again. Yuna could give you no warning as she came. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she reached her second orgasm; her voice was becoming hoarse from her moans.
You get Yuna off you, laying her beside you. The moment you do, she turns to you, “You didn’t cum.” She says softly. “I want to feel your cum.” Yuna’s hand slithers down her body, spreading her lips for you. You stare at her glistening pussy, it makes you hard, and you find yourself unable to resist Yuna’s invitation. She grabs the remote, lowering the bed back to its original position. “There, easier for you.” She says, licking her lips as she imagines you inside her again. “Go on, fuck me.”You align yourself with her cunt and push in quickly, feeling like you’re being sucked in. Yuna’s moans bounce off the walls, fueling you to start thrusting. You lift her hips off the bed, giving yourself a better position and allowing you to go deeper into Yuna’s cunt. Each thrust creates a bulge that Yuna presses down on, making her walls tighten around you. Her moans grew louder; she was getting more pleasure out of it, too. Neither of you last long, your quick thrust making you both cum again. You collapse on top of Yuna, feeling parts of the soft mattress.
You watch her grab the remote, feeling the bed become firmer. “So what do you think? How was the smart bed? Better, right?” Yuna mutters, slowly regaining her composure as time goes by.
“I think you’re right. It is better.”
“I told you.” She replies, a smile on her face.
You and Yuna hammer out the details as you lay beside each other, your cum oozing out of her cunt, and you end up buying the smart bed. You don’t know if Yuna being naked at the end helped her convince you, but you were buying the bed. Yuna felt satisfied with herself. After you had left, she went to the staff room, skipping all the way there while still naked, happy to have made a good piece of commission on the sale. She showed off, annoying the others as they stood there watching cum run down her legs. You write a review for the store, writing about the helpful staff much like the others before you.
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something something buck and tommy's first major argument. buck walks out because he knows if he doesn't, he's going to explode. he goes to eddie's house and unloads, because of course he does. eddie listens intently.
"and then i came here." buck drops down on the sofa.
eddie nods and rests a hand on his shoulder. "sorry man."
"it is what it is. can i crash here for the night?"
eddie gives him a look. "don't be stupid. of course you can." he pauses. "hey, you told tommy you were coming back, right?"
buck stares. "uh, no, those were not exactly my last words. it's fine, though. i'm pretty sure he already knows."
tommy's not the one with abandonment issues anyway, that's buck's thing. a weird look crosses eddie's face but he doesn't say anything and buck doesn't ask. they play video games until they crash out in the living room like a couple of teenagers, and then the next morning, buck goes home.
he lets himself in using his key. tommy is in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal. he looks startled to see buck standing there, which is fair, buck supposes. he goes over and kisses him and apologizes and tommy says it's okay, and apologizes too, and buck thinks that's supposed to be it but tommy's being weird. he's distant in a way that buck didn't expect. tommy answers his questions, and he participates in conversation, but he's not present. it's only when they're in bed for the night that buck rolls over to face him.
"okay, what is it?"
tommy yawns. "what is what?"
"this." buck waves a hand between the two of them. "you're being weird."
"i'm being weird."
"yes. and if you're - if you're still mad, you know, we should, uh. i don't know. we should talk about it."
an unreadable look crosses tommy's face. he shrugs. "i'm not mad."
but he's something. buck keeps looking at him, keeps wordlessly begging him to give him something.
eventually tommy sighs. "look i'm not mad. i just... didn't think you were coming back. and over the years i've learned that it's best to just... accept reality quickly rather than wait for it to sink in."
buck sits up. "but i did come back."
"you did." tommy's smile is small. "i guess i'm just waiting for my brain to catch up because it still thinks you're gone and aren't coming back."
and that's the point buck realizes that, for as much damage as tommy could do to him, he could do so much more to tommy.
"hey, hey, no." he throws the covers off and straddles tommy's hips, cupping his face and leaning forward so their chests are touching so he can meet his gaze. "i'm not leaving."
"you did."
"yeah, i mean — yes, i needed space. but i was coming back. i was always planning to come back."
tommy lifts his shoulders in a helpless little gesture. "i didn't know that. i thought you were done. i thought —" he cuts himself off and swallows once, twice. "i thought you were done," he says again, quietly.
christ, buck is the worst person alive. no wonder eddie looked at him like that. he wants to go back in time and beat himself with a stick but there will be time for self flagellation after he's reassured his boyfriend. so buck kisses him slowly, deeply, thoroughly and presses their foreheads together.
"i'm not leaving —" this, he almost says. but it's more than that, isn't it? tommy doesn't just want reassurance that buck still wants a relationship, he wants reassurance that he still wants him. buck clears his throat. "i'm not leaving you, tom. i'm — i'm in this. you know? i might — okay yeah, i might need space every now and again, especially when we get into it like we did but i'm —" he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for this last part, and forces himself to hold tommy's stare. "i'm pretty sure you're it for me. you know? like. when i picture my future, it's — it's me, and then there's you. and sometimes one or both of us has grey hair. maybe a couple pets. couple kids. but. it's always you and me."
tommy blinks up at him. "oh," he whispers.
but it's not a dismissive oh, or even an oh that says he doesn't want that too. it's just purely overwhelmed. so buck smiles and presses a dry kiss to his forehead.
"yeah, oh," he says against his skin.
tommy's hands tighten around his waist. this close together buck can feel the rapid pound of tommy's heartbeat. it's one of his favorite feelings in the world.
tommy rubs his thumb over his hipbones. "in case you haven't guessed, you're kind of it for me too."
buck hums. "yeah."
"yeah." tommy nudges buck's jaw up and presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "i am so. madly, insanely, terrifyingly in love with you." he pulls back so he can look into his eyes. "you're all i see. my future is nothing but you."
buck swallows, eyes filling with tears. "oh."
tommy huffs a breathy laugh. "yeah. oh."
and then they kiss and kiss and kiss until the sun comes up.
#jack.txt#otp: eye of the storm#this is not a fic.#but it's not NOT a fic#you understand#bucktommy#tv: 911
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How the Jujutsu Kaisen men act when they have a crush on you.
Satoru Gojo: Loves being around you/touchy, Takes you very seriously
~Satoru is a very lighthearted and silly person, but when it comes to you and y’all’s “friendship” he plays no games.
~He makes it his mission to let you know that you’re no joke to him. When you’re sad and open up to him he’s all ears and gives you his most honest and sincere advice. If you tell him something embarrassing he makes sure to comfort and reassure you that it’s okay and that you can trust him.
~Satoru knows how it feels to be taken as a joke and he would never want someone that he cherishes so much to feel that way.
~ Satoru also fights to spend as much time as possible with you. If you’re going to the store, he wants to come with you, need help picking an outfit? He’s on his way. He’ll call you to come over so much because he hates being alone and you’re the only company he truly wants. He’s set dates for you guys to hang out, every Friday was movie night… which also brings up his touchiness.
~Satoru always finds ways to touch you, it’s one of his most obvious ways of showing affection. “You have something in your hair” he would say, then continue to play with your hair and then tuck it behind your ear. During movie night he offers you to rest your head on him, or that you guys are at least touching in some way.
~altogether, Satoru sees you as a sense of comfort, a delicacy that he wants to appreciate and admire and be here for. you were his motivation to keep being him and to keep being strong, which is why he prioritizes being around you. Your touch gave him a sense of warmth that he doesn’t feel often, everything around him was so cold but you were his warmth.
~he hoped one day you’d realize that he needed more of you, he wanted to love you full-time, and he strived to make it known how much he needed you.
Suguru Geto: Has a soft spot for you, let’s down his hard exterior
~Suguru Geto was very judgemental and reserved, but when it came to you.. this differed.
~ You were so so sweet, it made it impossible for him to be so cold to you, as he was with other people.
~Suguru treated you with such delicacy, making sure to respect your sensitivities, if he said anything to offend you he would apologize immediately and take note to never do it again.
~ he’d defend you with his life and if anyone even looked at you a bit sideways they’d pay.
~he would do activities with you that no one could convince him to do, you’d give him manicures and put his hair in braids, convincing him to start a skincare routine and wear matching outfits.
~Suguru didn’t mind tho, because it gave him a sense of hope, that maybe there was good left in the world after all, your kindness and joy gave him that hope. Eventually, The way you treated others and were naturally so giving wore off on him.
~ your brightness led to him being able to trust you, Suguru was a very stubborn man and it was very hard to convince him of things. For some reason though, you were able to get him to listen, to see the other side of things, and he appreciated it so much.
~ others were so thankful for you, they wondered how you did it, how you were able to crack open such a hard exterior. This was simply because of his ardency towards you, he admired your kindness so much that it was able to change him and inspire him to be better.
~He needed that inspiration, your pure and giving heart filled him with joy and changed him.
~Suguru wanted to have a similar effect on you, to give you joy, for many years to come.
Kento Nanami: Very thoughtful, easily opens up to you
~Kento Nanami was a very smart and articulate man, as well as hardworking. You can imagine that if he is enamored by someone, they would receive all the goods of these traits.
~Kento studied you so well that he knew what would make you happy, he would be so thoughtful and considerate in his gifts. He cared about you so much.
~~if he heard you complain about something once, best believe he was figuring out a way to fix that situation for you, even if you didn’t directly ask. “Gosh my stupid washing machine has been acting up” “I'll pay for it to get repaired immediately”
~ ~Even if you didn’t know you needed something, but you did, he got it for you.
~ Kento would buy you the world.
~ Even the little things added up, he always brought you breakfast because he knows you forget to eat in the morning. He would bring you pain medicine to work if you were on your period, he was always caring and always observing so he could keep you happy.
~Kento did this because he loved to see you happy, you had a certain light in you that he needed, that he hadn’t had for a while.
~Kento was always stressed, always overworking himself so that he couldn’t even see his light. you brought that light out of him, you and your optimism inspired him to keep going.
~ you would never directly ask him for anything, or if anything is wrong you would still try to stay positive. It was always a “At least my period will be over soon” or “I can always just go to the Laundromat” he needed that kind of positivity in his life,
~ your positivity made it easy for him to open up to you, which he did with absolutely no one.
~Kento trusted you and knew that you would never judge him and give him some type of faith, in the world, in his future, in life itself.
~ your friendship with him and your light made life easy for him, it made working easier for him.
~And As Kento Nanami was a hard-working man, he was going to work his ass off to make you his forever.
#jujustu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x black reader#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#geto suguru#geto x reader#jjk gojo#jjk geto#jjk smau#jjk headcanons#jjk smut#jjk x you#nanami kento#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#nanami kento smut
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We can't be friends, but I'd like to just pretend
You and Spencer have convinced yourselves that you’re only meant to be friends despite the strong tension between you two. It only seems to intensify the longer you ignore it, eventually reaching its boiling point and forcing changes in the friendship.
Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader
(but no mentions of pronouns in this so it can be read as gn)
DISCLAIMER
This story is SFW but it’s intended for mature audiences only.
You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read.
WARNING
Mentions of: Indirect peer pressure, alcohol/drinking/being drunk, very slight implicated SA (it doesn’t happen), serial killer, kidnapping, torture, murder, stalking, and threats. It’s all barely there and doesn’t really matter to the story tbh. Proceed at your own risk.
Word count: 9.3K
See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.
Being in love is hard. Being in love with your best friend is harder. It’s a merciless form of torture really, devoting yourself entirely to the person you hold dearest to your heart, but they aren’t yours. It was almost masochistic, standing by to serve him in whatever way you thought he needed. Luckily, you weren’t a masochist.
Not entirely, at least.
You were there for him when he needed, offering whatever you had to give, but there were parts of you that you kept guarded. To protect yourself, but more importantly, to protect Spencer. It wasn’t uncommon for you to hear that you were ‘too much’ from passing lovers in your life. A certain level of detachment was necessary to ensure the safety of Spencer’s friendship. He was the most important person in your life.
Maybe it was the multitude of degrees as a result of his intelligence. He never let you feel stupid or any less intelligent.
Maybe it was the way his whole body lit up when he shared information he’d stored in that beautiful mind.
Maybe it was the charm in how goofily he carried himself. The way his hands would flail around when he spoke to keep up with the speed his brain moved at.
Or maybe it was how he made you feel seen.
How he always knew what to say, what to do. How he remembered little details about you, like how you preferred the window seat on the jet. And how he went out of his way to accommodate the details, like giving up the window seat just so you could sit in it. He was an unusually thoughtful man, with everybody he knew.
That’s something you had to remind yourself of often.
He’s like that with everybody. He has an eidetic memory, of course he remembers the little details.
If only you knew how wrong you were. Spencer was a thoughtful man, there was no doubt about that. Sure he was gifted with an arguably incomparable memory, but unlike all the things he had no choice in remembering, he chose to remember the little details about you. To him you were the closest thing to a real life angel.
It was the way you were the only person he’d ever met, willing to sit there and listen to him talk for hours. You’d go out of your way to show interest in the things he’d share, even if you didn’t actually have any interest in it.
The way he could swear he saw stars in your eyes whenever he stole an opportunity to stare into them. They would burn brighter if accompanied with the sweet sound of your laughter.
He felt compelled to accommodate you. Especially when you light up the way you do from such minuscule actions on his part. Spencer loved being the person to bring out your smile, taking any excuse to try and coax one out of you. Even if he’d slightly inconvenience himself at times. His convenience mattered little to him because he knew how much you did for him too.
Every morning before work you’d make the trip to his favourite coffee shop, getting him scones and coffee exactly to his liking because you knew he had a tendency to skip breakfast. His favourite coffee shop was a fifteen minute drive from your apartment and an extra twenty from Headquarters. You went out of your way to deliver it to him, even reheating the coffee yourself before handing it over.
Spencer wasn’t alone in recognising your generosity. The entire sixth floor had noticed how both of you subconsciously performed acts of service for each other, even if nobody had brought it up to your faces.
“I know that look.” Rossi remarks, turning his head towards his raven haired co-worker, eyes on you and Spencer.
“Yea..I just wonder if they know.” Emily mirrors his actions as she gives her own comment on the sight just a few feet in front of her.
Neither of you realise you have spectators observing your conversation. You’re in your own little bubble at Spencer’s desk, the resident genius seated comfortably with his gaze on you as he speaks. Your focus is entirely on the man across from you, leaning in slightly, perched on the wooden surface.
“Because stomach acid in the human body is typically 1-2 on the PH scale, it’s capable of dissolving metals such as certain types of stainless steels. Razors for example! The Gastrointestinal Endoscopy journal shared that scientists found that the thickened back of a single-edged blade dissolved just two hours of immersion in stomach acid!” His voice went up a pitch as he spoke and you couldn’t help but smile.
“So theoretically, an unsub could use a razor blade as a murder weapon and potentially eat it to dispose of it?” It was a relatively dumb question, but you just wanted to keep him talking.
“Well, it’s possible, but realistically I don’t think a razor blade-”
“Sorry to interrupt my younglings,” A colourful Garcia appears in your bubble and cuts Spencer off, “but I am here to let you know that the team will be going out for drinks, on Rossi, tonight! No exceptions!!”
When your head swivels to Garcia, you also notice the gawking pair not far behind her, shuffling off when they realise they’ve been caught staring.
“I’ll come, but I won’t be drinking.” Spencer says with an awkward smile. They shift their sights on you for your response.
“Sorry guys…I already have plans for tonight.” You purse your lips together apologetically.
“What no! No, no, no! You know how rare these nights can be!” Garcia frowns and grabs your shoulders pleadingly.
“I knowwww…I’m sorry!!”
“Fine, fine, but at least share what’s keeping you busy tonight?” The blonde pokes.
You shift your eyes to Spencer, who’s just staring at you with a curious look and then back to Garcia.
“Well I have a date-” You begin, but are interrupted by a whispered squeal.
Garcia begins a response, but stops herself when she spots a nonchalant Derek Morgan heading towards the elevators. “We will discuss this in detail during Saturday’s girls night. For now I will accept your excuse and remind you to dress your sexiest! Now excuse me while I go and intercept my sweet chocolate thunder.”
She grips you in a tight hug and scurries off after Morgan. The atmosphere shifts slightly, as you meet Spencer’s eyes awkwardly.
“You have a date? Why didn’t you mention that” Spencer titters.
“I’m sorry, it just didn’t occur to me.” You try to lie, but Spencer’s expression gives away that he doesn’t believe you. “Okay, okay, I just didn’t wanna say anything because the last time I talked about one of my dates you got all weird and I didn’t want to upset you again.”
“Upset me? I was not upset.” He protests and folds his arms across his chest.
“Okay what would you call it then?”
“I wouldn’t call it anything.”
“Oh really? So you’re not upset that I’m going on a date?”
“Nope. Not at all. I’m interested actually, tell me about him.”
You eye him carefully, trying to figure out where his head is at. Spencer has a tendency to get sassy when he feels defensive.
“You’re interested? To hear about one of my dates?” You question with playful caution.
“Yes. I’m always interested in things about you.” He spills.
Your reaction to his words is immediate, a surprised jump in your features, but you manage to mask it almost just as fast. Spencer’s just as surprised as you.
“I-I just mean- you know? Because yo-you’re my best friend.” He tries to play it off.
There’s no way.
You think to yourself. Spencer definitely didn’t mean it in that way.
No he definitely didn’t. He just said so himself. You’re his best friend. Spencer Reid does not feel the same way about you.
It stings to admit to yourself, but it’s for the best. Spencer is a smart, handsome, wonderful man with so much to offer. You’re too much work, come with too much baggage, just too much.
“Yea, we’re best friends.” An affirmation more for yourself than him.
A silence looms as you stare at each other stiffly.
“Anyways, my date,” you decide not to linger on it for too long, “it’s with that guy I told you about, Nathan.”
“Nathan? Didn’t you go on a date with him last time?” A casual inquiry.
“Yea!” You squeak enthusiastically, grateful that he had reverted back to his light-hearted self.
This was something you deeply enjoyed about your friendship. The fact the two of you could flow back into casual conversation no matter what.
“So it’s a second date?”
“Yes! The first one went really well, so I thought why not agree to a second when he asked?”
“That’s good. I’m happy for you.”
His approval should feel better than it does. For some reason, it makes you uneasy. Almost as if you don’t want him to approve.
He has approved though, meaning he isn’t against you dating other people. He doesn’t want you the same way.
“Really?” You want to be sure, scared that you might put him off again.
“Yes! Really! If you’re happy then I’m happy for you.” A fib that you were unaware of.
In truth, Spencer would rather crawl on the office bathroom floor than see you with some other guy. Fortunately for him, he isn’t actually going to be there to see you with this ‘Nathan’. So he doesn’t need to submit to such an awful torture. Maybe he’s being dramatic, you aren’t his girlfriend. He has no right to feel such a heavy drop in his gut.
Part of him really is happy for you. He wanted you to feel loved, even if it wasn’t by him. God, how he wished it was by him. If friendship is what he has to settle for to be near you, then so be it. Though at times it feels like it might kill him, you being the closest person in his life, but not close enough to the point where he could call himself yours.
“REID!”
Spencer jumps at the sound of Morgan’s voice, finding it difficult to focus on his current surroundings. He missed half the team scattering around to different parts of the bar, Morgan now his only company.
“What’s up?” His expression shifts to a tight-lipped smile.
“Where’s your head at man?” Derek probes.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I have never seen you this zoned out before. You haven’t checked back in since you sat down.”
It wasn’t intentional, but since you walked out the doors of the BAU all Spencer’s been able to think about was your date. You probably went straight home to get ready, pulling out all the stops to feel as beautiful as you are. For somebody that can never truly appreciate it, not like he can.
“I guess I’m just not feeling well.” A pathetic excuse. One Spencer finds himself making whenever he’s pulled out of his thoughts about you.
Morgan doesn’t believe him. Hell, Spencer doesn’t even believe himself.
“Kid. You know you can always talk to me right? About anything.”
“I know. I’m really just tired. Actually- you know what, c-could- could you just tell the others that I’m just not feeling great, I’m- bye Derek.” Spencer stutters as he rushes out of his seat.
He doesn’t even give the man a chance to respond as he makes his exit out of the bar. He’s lacking the capability to force himself to socialise. The knowledge of you on a date with another man was something he’s been able to handle, but a second date with a man was harder to stomach. You must like him if you’re willing to see him again.
The ride home feels longer than it actually is. How far had the date gotten? Were you enjoying it? Did Nathan make you laugh the way he could? Spencer might lose his mind. He wondered if you had given Nathan the privilege of touching you. Your skin always looked so soft, his heart panged at the thought. He felt sick.
You were his best friend. You trusted him. He shouldn’t think this way about you, feel this way about you. Unreciprocated feelings were something Spencer was entirely used to. He’d perfected being able to put the person at the receiving end of his affections in the back of his mind. To ignore until it went away entirely.
Why was it so much harder this time? There is no universe in which you would ever return his love for you. Which is why he needs to force himself to love you from afar. It was a fact Spencer reminded himself of repeatedly. And he would’ve kept at it, if he wasn’t interrupted by the sight of you standing in front of his door as he stepped up his apartment stairs.
“Hi!” His voice alerts you softly.
“Hi!” You squeak back, turning on your heel to face him.
He can’t help but note how heavenly you look. It almost knocked the air out of his lungs, except he noticed the poorly wiped tears glistening on your face. He didn’t ask about it, immediately. Instead he just pulled you in for a hug, something he rarely did with others, and unlocked his door as he motioned for you to enter first. Another thing to love about Spencer Reid.
You step inside, more than familiar with the deep green walls surrounding you. If the stench of liquor wasn’t enough, then the way you stumbled on your way to his couch was all Spencer needed to deduce that you had been drinking. A lot. He walks past you towards his kitchen, returning with a glass of water and painkillers you would definitely need later.
“Have you eaten?” He asks softly, handing you the glass of water.
“Um..” you take a sip and pause as you sigh, “yeah.”
The two of you just sit there, silently, stealing small glances at each other and averting your gazes before the other can notice. You know he’s waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to speak first. Except you don’t know what to say. You feel so embarrassed. He probably had better plans for tonight, but here you are, pestering him again.
“How long were you waiting?” He speaks up once he realises that you aren’t going to.
“Not long, I had actually just gotten there, your timing was really good.” You mumble, forcing an awkward chuckle.
“Did Nathan drop you off?” Spencer hopes that bringing up your date might give you enough courage to vent.
“No. No, I walked.” A resigned smile creeps on your face, not wanting to talk about your journey here. “How was your night?”
“Walked?? Alone?? Drunk??” The words seep out of him before he can hold his tongue. “Why didn’t you call me?!”
“I’m sorry! I just didn’t want to bother you!” You defend.
But you are bothering him. You’re bothering him right now.
You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to hold back tears. Guilt creeps inside him. He knows that he’s not the source of your tears, but he didn’t want to make you cry regardless.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he takes hold of your hand and squeezes ever so gently, “we don’t have to talk about it.”
“Why don’t we play chess? You’re getting better at it, you know?” He adds, thinking of a quick distraction.
Chess was a favourite pastime of yours with Spencer. You pull your hand out of his grip and use it to rub the opposing arm, his touch overwhelming you. He was too soft with you. You suppose it’s why you seek him out so often. Out of all the men you’ve ever known, Spencer was the only one who knew you. It felt so nice to be known.
“Y-yea..yes. Please. Let’s uh- let’s play chess.” You stumble on your words, eager to think about anything else.
Spencer retrieves his mini chess board from his satchel and prepares the board between the two of you. Neither of you utter a word as you play your moves. You appreciate the silence, because you know that you can’t say or do the wrong thing.
“You’re going easy on me.” You break the silence anyway, scared that the silence might bore him.
“You’re holding back.” He argues and you finally meet his eyes for the first time since you started the game.
“No, I’m just drunk.” You counter.
“I was the one at a bar but you’re the one who’s drunk.” It’s a stupid comment, slightly cringy even, but he earns a genuine laugh out of you.
His dorkiness was part of his charm. Your laughter makes him smile. A comfortable silence fills the atmosphere as your eyes meet again. Spencer’s eyes were so beautiful, you could drown in them. Spencer in general was so beautiful, in every way possible.
“It’s your move.” He has to remind you, worried that if he’s allowed to look at you for two long he might do something really stupid.
“I-uhm- I had a shitty date.” You owe him an explanation for ruining his night.
He doesn’t respond, not wanting to say anything that might make you close up again. He wanted to be the person you talked to about your problems. He wanted to be your solace.
“It started really well. I thought I could see something more, but it turns out he just wanted the same thing as all the others. Thought that maybe if he got me drunk enough..but it obviously didn’t work” You try to lighten the weight of your words by laughing with them. “It’s probably for the best, you know? I don’t think it would’ve worked out regardless, I couldn’t stop-”
Stop comparing him to you.
Normally, Spencer is the one with the tendency to ramble, but the alcohol wasn’t making it easy for you to shut up. You just hope he doesn’t realise where you were headed with that statement. You kept comparing your date to Spencer. Everything Nathan did today was a direct reminder of things Spencer would never do.
“Check.” You choose to stop making a fool of yourself there.
Spencer’s breath hitches. Not because he picked up on what you hoped he didn’t, rather because he was concerned by the possible implications of what you said.
“Did he..did he try to-”
“No. Oh my God, no!” You cut him off before he can finish the thought.
His shoulders relax and the silence resumes. For the first time since he met you, Spencer found himself speechless. He didn’t know whether to comfort you or give you advice. Part of him felt selfishly relieved, at least he didn’t have to worry about some other guy anymore. The other part, the part that felt disgusted with himself for even thinking about himself right now, felt a mixed range of hurt for you.
It started with resentment for the negligence Nathan displayed with you and ended with sorrow for how easily you brushed off your hurt. While he ran all the possibilities of the best thing to say, you ran all the possibilities of leaving his apartment in the least inconvenient way for him, interpreting his silence as irritation.
He should be irritated, you’re disrupting his night.
You need to leave before he can tell you to. Just as you’re about to mutter some bull-shit excuse, Spencer gently cups your hand with both of his hands and locks eyes with you. His voice is so painstakingly gentle, your breath gets stuck in your throat.
“Nathan and anyone else who has ever allowed themselves to be blinded by their shallow urges is an absolute fool. Idiot. Moron. There aren’t enough words in the English dictionary to describe how stupid they are for missing out on knowing you as you are. I’ve experienced a lot of good things in my life, none have ever brought me as much joy as you do. I can’t even begin to explain how deserving you are of love and it��s heartbreaking to see that you’ve convinced yourself of the opposite.”
It’s your turn to be speechless. Of the list of things you didn’t expect, this wasn’t even on the list. You should have expected it. It was in Spencer’s nature to prove you wrong for underestimating his tenderness. He felt perhaps he went too far. Said too much.
“I-I just mean-”
“Why are you so nice to me?” Your heart feels like it’s lacking space inside your chest, tears threaten to build.
“Because you’re my f-friend.” He struggles to utter the last word.
“Friend..” You nervously laugh.
The meaning behind his words don’t register in your drunken state. All your focus is diverted to the feeling of his calloused skin on yours. The liquor in your veins awakens dazed boldness. One you’d be too wary of displaying otherwise. You allow your fingers to dance against his, an act of intimacy not reserved for friends. He doesn’t stop you either.
“You know…”
it’s almost not even a whisper,
“...if I wasn’t who I am…”
but Spencer was an expert in tuning out everything else to focus solely on your voice,
“...maybe you could love me the way I love you.”
And the world, as Spencer knows it, stops. Your words ring in his ears and he’s sure his heartbeat has become audible.
“Y-you love me?” He repeats, unable to suppress his need to hear those words again.
The validity of your confession doesn’t bear any weight until you hear it from him, your motions against his hand coming to an immediate stop. You shift line of sight to his face faster than you can blink, waiting for his reaction so you can scramble to save your friendship.
Parroting your words wasn’t enough, Spencer couldn’t believe it. He had never considered it feasible for you to love him. He had spent so many sleepless nights tormenting himself over the fact. He wanted so badly to cup your face and tell you about all the thoughts of you that consumed his mind. To say those three words back.
“You can’t love me.” Instead he said four words that strained your hope for salvation. He’d shoot himself if he had any realisation of what he had just done.
“No, of-of c-course, I meant like an- a- amazing fr-friend. You k-know, like the kind of bes-best friend you only mean once in your lif-life.” And you unknowingly shattered that hope in him.
Silence has never been more deafening. Neither of you can look away from each other. There’s so much to say but how can it be said now?
“Right. No, yeah. Of course.” He forces out.
A fake understanding between you two. The expressions canvassing both of your faces display anything but understanding. Though you’re no longer physically touching, you’re still holding each other in your view. A few moments pass and Spencer is the first to look away.
“You must be tired-” He starts.
You were still disrupting his space.
“Right, I’ll go-” You stand, ready to rush out the door.
“No-no.” He sighs. “Stay please. It’s late and you’re drunk-”
“No I’ve alrea-” You try to protest, not wanting him to go out of his way for you any longer.
“Please. I’ll feel a lot better knowing you’re safe.” He begs, not just with his words but his eyes.
“Okay.” You murmur. “But I’m taking the couch.”
Under any other circumstances, Spencer would have resisted you taking the couch. Today? He was utterly drained.
“Alright. I’ll get you something comfortable to change into while I set up the couch. You know where the bathroom is.” He sports a weak smile, unable to meet your eyes again.
He watches you disappear into the bathroom after handing you some spare clothes. He sets the couch with the pillows and blankets he’d reserved for you. He bought them after you’d slept over a few times at the start of your friendship, wanting you to sleep as comfortably as possible so you would keep coming back.
You’d just broken his heart into a million pieces, so fine that he’d never be able to put it back together whole, but he still couldn’t not exert the utmost care when it came to you.
In the bathroom, you fight back tears again as you fumble into his clothes. You’d worn this particular sweatshirt before, because you didn’t anticipate staying the night. It was never planned, often you two just lost track of time because you spent too long engaged in conversations. After a while you started leaving things at his place so you had an excuse to keep coming back.
You can handle just being his friend, but you don’t think you can handle not being anything to him. Was there something you could do so you didn’t have to stop coming back?
When you came out and saw your makeshift bed for the night, you felt slightly fuzzy inside. Spencer had already gone to bed but he’d covered the cushions of the couch with a thick blanket and two fluffy pillows. A fresh glass of water was waiting for you on the coffee table with the pills from earlier.
Maybe things were okay after all? Surely he wouldn’t have put as much care into your comfort if they weren’t. So why couldn’t you shake this feeling of dread inside you? Why did the air feel so thick?
You spend most of what’s left of the night awake, curled into yourself on his couch, muffling your sobs. You’ve ruined another good thing. Pushed away probably the most important person in your life. You knew he was too good for you, he could never feel the same way. You got greedy.
Just a few feet away from you, Spencer’s in the exact same position as you on his bed. No rejection has ever hurt as much as when it came from you. He knew you were drunk, he knew you could never actually feel the same way. But aren’t drunk words sober thoughts? Statistics definitely agree they are.
The first thing you notice when you wake up is the pounding headache. Then the dry mouth. Spencer had left a glass of water, painkillers and a bagel on the coffee table. You reach for the pill first, hoping that the faster you take it, the faster it kicks in. As you practically pour the water down your throat, you see a little note next to the bagel.
“Paper work day at the office. Make sure to eat and drink lots of water. Will tell Hotch that you’ll be late/taking the day off. - Spencer”
Thoughtful as ever. The bagel was still warm so he must’ve left recently. It was strange that he’d left without waking you up like he normally does. Your first bite of the bread jolts the memories of the night before and it hits you harder than the headache. Your appetite faded and the remorse set in.
Shit.
You and Spencer have always been able to bounce back, but the damage you caused last night might be irreparable. Say Spencer does forget about it, can you? You always knew he couldn’t love you back, but you never imagined that he would forbid you to love him in the first place. As much as you didn’t want to face Spencer right now, work was the best place for you to be if you didn’t want to go mad thinking about last night.
You’d have to change into appropriate work attire first, so a trip back to your place was warranted. The whole uber ride back to your apartment you think of things to say when you see him. Things didn’t need to change. You had to apologise, obviously, but there had to be some way of apologising while maintaining normalcy. The best start was getting him his coffee and scones like you usually did.
Meanwhile at the office, Spencer was stuck on the same page of his file. It had never taken him more than a few seconds to turn a page, but he wasn’t actually reading the words. You took up every thought in his mind again. He wondered if you were awake yet, if you remembered the events of the night before.
“You know if I wasn’t who I am, maybe you could love me the way I love you.”
When he initially heard you say it, all he heard was that you love him.
“You know if I wasn’t who I am, maybe you could love me the way I love you.”
When he said it out loud to himself all he wanted to do was tell you how much he does love you, but the chance was ripped away from him just as fast as it was given to him. Did you even care? Or was it just an insignificant event to you? It was a lot easier to accept that you could never love him the same way before he had a taste of what it would be like if you did.
There was this moment, when your fingers were fiddling with his and you said those words, just a second where he experienced what it could be like. He can’t go back to how it was, not now that he knows how it could’ve been. In order to protect himself from unravelling completely he has to let you go. An impossible task, considering you work together.
“I brought coffee.” Your expression is tentative.
Spencer looks up to see you standing above him, holding his daily coffee and scones in hand. There are no traces of the night before to be seen on you. Your makeup is fresh and you’d clearly changed clothes. You looked perfectly angelic, as always. If it were any other day, your gesture would’ve made him feel like the most special person in the world. Today, it felt like the cruellest thing in the world.
“Do you wanna come with me while I heat it up? Or should I just bring it back to you?” You prompt.
“No.” He rises from his seat and pries it out from your hand. “I can do it. Thank you.”
Before you comprehend what’s happened, Spencer’s walked away. You try to follow him to the kitchen, but when you get there he’s nowhere to be seen. This seems to be a trend for the next few days. You find some excuse to try for conversation and he shuts it down after about one sentence. That’s if you’re able to get close enough to him for that sentence. It’s becoming more and more obvious that he’s avoiding you.
You decide to give him space after about a week of it, wishing everyday that you could go back in time and change things. Around the two week mark, he starts giving you the cold shoulder, not even so much as looking at you. He couldn’t look at you. It was taking everything in him to force himself away from you, but it was easier than being near you. You weren’t the only one who could feel this change in your dynamic, the team was just as confused.
They’d all tried to investigate the root of this shift, individually directing casual questions to both of you in conversations. You’d both just brushed it off, not wanting to be the burden of the topic. Spencer had been doing so well in keeping his distance, but eventually, Hotch made the decision that enough is enough.
The BAU was in Chicago this week, hunting down another unsub who thought he was too smart to get caught. This was one of those cases that would stick with you for a while, so tensions were already high amongst everyone. Nobody was more on edge than Spencer and now he was forced in a car with you, driving around the city, chasing leads.
Rarely did he ever get behind the wheel, but he knew he would need any distraction he could get. Driving was supposed to mean he wouldn’t be stuck in the passenger seat, fighting the urge to stare at you. Now he was fighting the urge to stare at you from the driver's seat. He hated being in love. You were trying your best to stay silent and looking out the window at the passing buildings.
“Are you hungry?”
That’s the first time in a month that Spencer’s been the first one to speak. He tried not to. Like he tried not to pay attention to your routine. It wasn’t possible. No matter how hard he tried, there were just some things Spencer couldn’t not do in regards to you. The most important thing was that he couldn’t not care.
He knew you hadn't been eating properly. You had a tendency to forget about your well-being during hard cases. You were probably hungry. Somebody had to take care of you because you most definitely weren’t going to. He was right. The thought of food made your stomach growl. It was wicked timing.
“No, thank you.” You lie anyway, not wanting to inconvenience him further.
“Why won’t you stop lying to me?” He mutters in annoyance.
“Excuse me?” You scoff, turning to look at him.
He doesn’t look away from the road, pretending to not have heard you.
“Seriously?” You sputter. “You’re ignoring me now?”
You huff as you throw yourself back against your seat. He didn’t mean to ignore you, he just didn’t know what to say.
“I don’t understand why you’re being like this.” You mumble.
It was already daunting when he was barely acknowledging you, but refusing to acknowledge all together? When you were the only person next to him? That was just vicious. You knew you’d fucked up, but was this necessary? You had already spent so much of yourself trying to keep it together, being confined in this car with him would waste your efforts.
“Pull over.” You say in the kindest way possible, which was immensely harsh. “Spencer Reid pull this damn car over or I swear to fucking God I am going to jump out of it.”
That definitely caught his attention. In all your time together, you had never spoken to him in that way. You had definitely never addressed him by his full name. He brings the car to a halt on the side of the curb and finally turns to face you. You push the door open and hop out, slamming it behind you.
“What are yo-” Spencer starts, but you’re already walking away. He quickly gets out and follows behind you. It doesn’t take him long to catch up to you and he stops you by the arm when he realises saying your name won’t make you turn back around.
“Don’t touch me!” You yank your arm out of his grip and keep walking.
“Where are you going?!”
“Anywhere you’re not.”
He tries you by your name again, but when it fails again, he grabs you by the shoulders and spins you around. You hadn’t noticed that you’d walked into an alleyway.
“Get back in the car.” He demands.
“I am not getting in a car with you.” You have never been this upset with him before.
“You’re being childish!” He snaps, rolling his eyes.
“Oh I’m being childish?! Spencer, believe me when I say I mean this is the nicest way I possibly can right now – FUCK OFF!” You push his hands off you and take a step back, but he just grabs your wrist.
“Listen to me,” he urges, “there is a serial killer that’s kidnapping women in broad daylight, torturing them and murdering them. And he’s threatened each of us individually during the course of this investigation. You cannot just be walking around alone, in a city you hardly know.”
“Don’t explain the details of this case to me, I’m well aware.” You snarl, your irritation increasing tenfold.
“Then why are you being so difficult?!” He screeches.
“Why are you–fucking hell, I cannot keep doing this. I’m not getting in the car when you won’t talk to me. Hell, you won’t even so much as look at me!”
“Fine! You wanna talk? We’ll talk! Just–get back in the car. Please.” He sighs in defeat. You still don’t budge, so he pleads softer. “Please.”
You take a deep breath and roll your eyes, stealing your wrist out of his grasp. Spencer doesn’t move until you do, both of you silently making your way to the car.
You’re both silent initially, not knowing where exactly to go from here. There’s one thing you know for sure, you won’t be the first to speak. Spencer catches on to that fast.
“What do you wanna talk about?” He snarls, shrugging his arms.
“Cut the shit, I won’t get back in this car if I get out for a second time.” You’re not in the mood. The two of you had avoided this conversation for long enough, it was now or never. Some part of you wished for never.
“Fine. Did you mean it?” He shoots, briskly.
“What?” You didn’t know which part he meant.
“That you love me specifically as an ‘amazing friend’, I believe was your wording.” His voice cracks and it causes a shift in his behaviour. He’s no longer hostile, just hurt.
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
In your rush to get him talking, you hadn’t actually realised that you weren’t ready to talk about this. You were stalling.
“Answering a question with a question.”
This doesn’t feel like a conversation. More like an interrogation, except you’re the unsub. He scoffs bitterly at your silence.
“Spencer, don’t–”
“No, you’re the one who wanted to talk! You were so insistent, in fact, that you would have rather made yourself a serial killer’s target then get in a car with me if I didn’t talk to you. And all of a sudden you’re speechless?” He snaps at you.
“Yes! I was the one who wanted to talk! I just– I can’t understand what I’ve done to make you hate me so much? Was it because I said I love you? Did it really upset you that much?” You were both shouting from frustration.
“You think I’m upset because you love me?!” Spencer scoffs in disbelief.
“Aren’t you?!” You bitterly laugh.
Spencer rubs his temples and squeezes his eyes shut, mumbling some under his breath. He’s genuinely never been this frustrated in his life.
“Are you being serious?” His voice strains in pitch, as he tries to keep himself a lot calmer than he feels. “Is this some sort of joke to you?”
“Some sort of joke–”
“Do not interrupt me again. You wanna run away from this? Fine. But you will listen because I will not have this conversation again.” His tone is sharp, like a blade being held against your throat. It definitely shuts you up.
“Talk. Okay, let’s talk about how I have spent the last four years watching you allow undeserving men to walk all over you, letting them treat you like you’re worth nothing. I damn near drove myself insane trying to figure out why. Why is it something you accept for yourself? And then I realised– that’s how you see yourself. You actually hate yourself so much that you’ve convinced yourself you deserve it! Do you realise how infuriating that is?!
Especially because it’s the furthest thing from the truth! Still, I watched you throw yourself into this vicious cycle over and over again. You gave yourself away to those idiots, knowing that they didn’t have good intentions, but you still hoped it would be different every time. I mean you’re a fucking profiler for God’s sake! How can you expect others to love you if you can’t even love yourself?
That’s not even the worst part! You’re so desperate for their acceptance that you continuously neglect the acceptance you already have from the people who love you. People like Emily, Penelope, Derek– the team– people like– people like me. I mean I’ve always known that you didn’t love me as anything more than a friend, but your constant reminders feel like a punch to the gut! Is it that embarrassing for you to love me as anything more?
I’ve survived way worse things, but this is the cruellest thing I’ve ever been through. Because it’s coming from you! I just never expected it’d be from you.” He’s practically hyperventilating for air by the time his speech comes to a stop, the vein in his forehead more prominent than usual.
Your jaw is tense and restless, twitching from anger. Some part of you still wants to keep this friendship. The louder part knows that there’s no going back from this. You’re not entirely sure you want to go back. Your entire body is shaking from rage. The first rule of your friendship was no profiling. Not only did he break that rule, he used the profile against you as if you actually were an unsub he was interrogating.
“That’s not fair”
His eye twitches at your response.
“Not? Fair?” Spencer grumbles in pauses.
“No, that's not fair!” You cry out. “It’s your turn to listen.”
It doesn’t feel like there’s any oxygen left to breathe in the car.
“Self loathing? Spencer, that's your projection! You love too hard and nobody’s ever loved you back the same way. But just because you lack things you want in your life doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me! And all this talk about love, but none of it makes any sense. You think I’m embarrassed of loving you? Is that how shallow you think I am?! You’re the one who told me that I can’t love you. God, you are the most duplicitous person I’ve ever met! I can’t believe I didn’t see it. You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder because I love you as an ‘amazing friend’? Because you love me and you think I’ve been neglecting you?!”
You had never spoken to anyone this way in your life. There was so much truth to Spencer’s words, but he had no right. He’d touched every nerve in your body without ever laying a hand on you. Up until roughly twenty minutes ago, being seen by Spencer was your favourite thing in the entire world. Now? You’d never hated the feeling more in your life.
Spencer squeezes his hand into a fist, knuckles going white and releases his fingers like if he were aggressively squishing a stress ball. If asked about a month ago, he would never in a million years think that your friendship would manage to dissipate in just a few seconds. He didn’t think he could associate the word love with you anymore.
“Let’s get one thing straight. I do not love you. I do not love anything about you. Actually, I hate you. I hate how sweet you pretend to be. I hate the stupid morning coffee you bring me, nothing tastes more bitter. I hate to admit this but you’re right; everything about you is a brutal reminder of all the good things I can never have and I despise you for it.” He spits his words out with extreme tension in his blood vessels.
“I can’t say I’ve known what it feels like to truly loathe someone before I met you.” You fire back, breathlessly, not having it in you to spare any more words for him.
You’re not exactly sure how long the two of you have been sitting there just glaring at each other. Only when Spencer’s phone rings do you two look away.
“Reid.” He answers the call. “Yea, she’s still here. We’re on our way back now.”
The ride back to the precinct was silent. Even as you regrouped with the rest of the team, you acknowledged everybody but each other. The team was instantly alert to the change, but no one mentioned it at the time because of the high stress of the case. You wrapped the case up a few days later and only then did the questions start making their way around.
“Is everything okay between you two?”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“What happened between you and Reid?”
“What’s up with Boy Wonder over there?”
You didn’t entertain any of them, Spencer had taken up enough time in your life. You refused to talk about him, look at him or acknowledge him at all. He shared that same incentive. Another three weeks passed as the team watched what was once the closest duo in the BAU, pretend that their counterpart didn’t exist.
If one of you was in a room and noticed the other enter, you’d walk out without drawing attention to the situation. When leaving the room was not an option, you either went as far in the opposite corner of the room as you could or you’d simply pretend the other wasn’t present just a few metres away. You wouldn’t discuss intel with each other about cases, sharing your findings with anybody else.
Since Chicago, Hotch only assigned you with Spencer once more, but quickly realised that wasn’t going to help when both of you begged to be assigned with someone else privately. If you were in a discussion with someone and they started talking about Spencer, you’d tune out entirely. After a while the hating game got exhausting.
Spencer hated pretending that he hated you. He felt an immense amount of guilt for the things he’d said, but it was too late to take it back. He thought it would be easier to deal with his feelings if he wasn’t around you all the time, but it was just as difficult as before. You still lit up the dull grey rooms of the building. The only difference was that now he had to watch you shine from afar.
In truth, you didn’t hate Spencer either. What you actually hated was that you didn’t hate Spencer. You still caught yourself staring at him for long periods of time. There were days when you’d go to his favourite coffee shop before work and buy his order, only to give it away to somebody on the street because you didn’t want to ruin Spencer’s day with the bitterness of your coffee.
By the fifth week since you had gotten back from Chicago, you and Spencer were no longer ignoring each other as much. You’d gotten into a routine of professionalism for the sake of the team, only talking to each other about cases when necessary. That didn’t stop you from subconsciously showing subtle gestures of love. These were a lot quieter than the gestures you showed when you were friends.
You’d make sure that there was always a fresh pot of coffee in the office kitchen, so Spencer would have it ready to drink whenever he needed. He’d make sure that the snack cupboard was always filled with your favourite snacks because he knew you liked having something to munch on when catching up on paperwork. You’d keep extra painkillers in Garcia’s lair knowing Spencer would retreat there when a migraine hit.
He’d ensure the aircon was always set to room temperature, you get uncomfortable if the room was too cold. Both of you were aware of the little gestures too, no one else knew your truly niche preferences. Neither of you was brave enough to actually go up to the other, though. It was all too much for you. No matter what was said, he was still your thoughtful Spencer deep down and it killed you.
You’d tried to talk to Spencer a few times, building up the courage for days in advance. As soon as he noticed you heading in his direction, he nearly bolted in the other direction. His avoidance didn’t end at the office. You recently became aware that Penelope had been scheduling rosters to invite you and Spencer to outings, trying to ensure you were present for equal amounts of time.
You were chilling at her desk in wait for her, when you noticed a little note with your name next to a date and time. Under that was Spencer’s name with a separate date and time.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” She greets you.
“I needed to talk to you…Penelope what is this?” You hold up the little pink sticky note.
Penelope sets her octopus mug down and takes the note from your hand.
“This? This is nothing.” She fumbles a bit as she speaks.
“Garcia?” You purposefully speak with warning.
“Okay! Okay! But you didn’t hear it from me! We’ve kinda been taking turns hanging out with you and Spencer sometimes. But it’s because we love you and don’t want to make either of you-” She starts a panicked tangent.
“Garcia!” You interrupt her before she sends herself into a spiral. “There’s no need to do all of this. Yes Spencer and I aren’t close anymore, but you guys don’t need to go out of your way for us.”
“Well..” She grits her teeth and tilts her head.
“What?”
“We didn’t really mean to. It’s just we noticed that Spencer would never come if you were going. And both of you just straight up refuse to talk about it, so this was the best we could come up with.”
“Oh. Penny, I’m sorry that you guys have had to do that.” That was all you could say, your head hanging in guilt.
“Can you at least tell me why you won’t talk about it? I mean it makes sense for Boy Wonder, he’s always been stubbornly private, but you’ve never not told me anything!”
You look towards Garcia again, thinking for a minute. You didn’t know exactly why you refused to talk about it.
“I don’t know, honestly. I just don’t want to talk about it, if that makes sense?” You pull your friend in for a hug as an apology.
You felt awful leaving her lair without giving her a proper answer or a resolution. It didn’t matter how professional you acted, this rift would always impact your friends and your work life.
Spencer would always impact everything in your life.
The guilt didn’t spare you that night, creeping its way to the forefront of your mind every few minutes. It had been four months since your last fight. It was the longest you’d gone without Spencer. This had to end for the sake of the team. That was how you found yourself standing at his door once again. After a few minutes you finally knock. You didn’t know what you were going to say, honestly you just wanted to run before he answered. You hear the locks being undone, but it’s not Spencer who answers when that door finally swings open.
“Yes?”
It’s a woman, one you've never seen before. You’re taken aback and look around to make sure you got the right apartment. This was definitely Spencer’s apartment, you’d been here a hundred times before. And some woman was answering his door for him. Some very beautiful woman.
“Can I help you?” She follows up, looking you up and down.
“Hi, yeah, sorry, is–um– is Spencer here?”
“Who’s asking?” She’s definitely not very friendly.
“We work together. Is he here or not?” You didn’t have the patience for this, annoyance seeping through your pores.
“Who’s at the door?” His voice emerges from behind her and he finally shows up. “Oh.”
“Hey.” You glance away as soon as you see him.
“Could you give me a minute?” He turns to the woman. She flashes a sickly sweet smile and kisses his cheek before disappearing inside. Spencer shuffles out to the corridor, closing the door behind him.
“That–uh–that was–” He stops himself, clearing his throat and switching to his professional voice. “What are you doing here?”
Cold.
“I was hoping we could talk.” You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to play off what you just saw.
“What more is there to say?”
“About the team. I came over to, um, apologise and maybe move past things for the sake of the team.” You were looking everywhere but at him.
“Honestly?” His eyes are on you though. “I don’t care. And even if I did, I don’t want to hear it.”
He starts to walk away, but turns back and mentions your name like it’s the most vile word in the dictionary. “Please don’t come back here. It’s hard enough at work, I don’t want to see your face in my personal time too.”
With that he re-enters his apartment, leaving you standing in the hallway. It’s hard to imagine that this man was once your best friend. If you didn’t know about all the good times, you wouldn’t have believed it. Every tear that your body could ever produce streamed out of you for the rest of the night. Once you had made it back to your apartment, they broke out in sobs. In your line of work, you had survived being shot at, almost blown up and even a kidnapping once.
The man you loved with every fibre of your being looking at you like you were less than filth under a person's shoes was your breaking point. There was no way you were going to face him again. You needed to forget about Spencer Reid, which meant a fresh start. This city was a constant reminder of his essence, you couldn’t stay. You plopped down on your bed with your work bag, reaching into it for your work computer. Hands twitching as you type.
You remember being so proud when David Rossi recommended you for the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit. You were even more ecstatic when Hotch actually requested your transfer there. You had worked your ass off for it. It was there that you met the infamous Doctor Reid. He was much different than how you had imagined him. He was so charming, friendly and so down to earth, not liking him wasn’t an option. The two of you had so much in common, despite being so different, it was the foundation for your friendship. His caring nature pulled you in further, you soon found yourself deeply in love with him.
Tears flooded your keyboard as all your memories with him flash through your brain. His friendship was a beautiful bonus of the job you once loved, you never thought that he would become the reason you’d leave it. Yet here you were, furiously drafting your resignation to Agent Hotchner. There were so many signals in your brain telling you to back off, to open a bottle of wine and drown your sorrows instead, but your heart didn’t feel like that would be enough. Your love for your job didn’t outweigh your desire to run.
Spencer Reid was your best friend and being in love with him is an excruciating torture. One that you can no longer endure. You had never been more sure of anything as you are at this moment and you weren’t going to give yourself time to change your mind. Your time with Spencer and, as a consequence, your time at the BAU had come to an end. Another memory flashes through your mind as you sign the letter off with your name. A case in Boston had gone wrong and you were really hung up on it. Spencer, in an attempt to help you move on, shared a quote with an author he had recently read. You bitterly chuckle to yourself at this recall and press send with no second thought.
“Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward.” - C.S. Lewis.
Spoilers:
BAU! Reader, friends to enemies, mutual pining, hurt, angst no comfort, whump (maybe idk), Reader & Spencer are both idiots, they should probably consider therapy actually, Spencer is a sassy little shit, but really just needs a hug and a class on communication.
AN - You’ve heard of enemies to lovers/friends, now I present to you the exact same thing in reverse (been done time and time again, I’m not in any way original <3). You can blame Ariana Grande for this one. Sorry that I haven't posted, I've had insane writers block. I might be slightly incapable of shorter word counts, I’ll try to improve that.
I apologise for grammar/anything that does not make sense, I am both an idiot and also was dealing with a bad case of the flu when I wrote this. I’d like to thank @reidmotif for curing my writer's block and inspiring me on the second half of this fic. Thank you @starstruckbambi for proof reading this.
Drop thoughts & feelings so I can ponder on them. Always remember that I’m in your walls.
Thank you for reading!
#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fandom#ssa spencer reid#bau team#spencer reid fic#spencer reid angst#angst fic#criminal minds angst#spencer reid whump#whump fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#fem!reader#dr spencer reid
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꒰͡ ⠀ . ANOTHER GUY? ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱
ೃ⁀➷ Synopsis; When they meet the other guy in the relationship (your dog) for the first time! How do they act? Or rather, how does your dog act?
Gojo, nanami, megumi, yuji, yuta x gn!reader
Notes. Based on how possessive my little Aussie is whenever any guys are around me…(he’s a year old) . Not proofread . Fluff . Crack
SATORU G.
• First of all, he had seen your dog before you two got together. And let’s just say, he was not a fan of your dog. But maybe now that would have changed! Since you know, you love your dog and Gojo had stolen your heart! So they both have similarities right?
“The hell? Why does your dog keep trying to attack me!”
When he first entered through the door way, your dog instantly started to growl. It gets even worse when gojo tries to wrap his arms around you, cause your dog goes ballistic.
“I already told you idiot! It’s cause you keep trying to touch me and he doesn’t like that!”
Your dog is the one being held, not him! Why must he suffer just for you to be happy? The dog is rather cute, but what isn’t is how you fluff his hair up and give him little peaks all while he’s watching. Are you seriously that evil?
The little creature just won’t give in, and it’s like he’s doing it on purpose. Licking your face, cuddling with you, doing all the things gojo should be doing. (Maybe not the licking part) your dog even has his paw on your thigh!
“Does he always do that?”
“I literally told you that before we arrived.”
“My bad I thought you were joking.”
Most definitely rolls his eyes saying that.
The rest of day, his tries to play with your dog although he makes its worse since your near and the dog is already in extra protective mode.
Though since he is gojo…he did crack the system! Took him three hours to do so.
When you leave to get something, gojo sees that dog stop with his schemes and relax? Nahh you’re dog definitely got shy without you.
“Oh? Not so confident now I see.”
For the small 20 minutes you’re gone, the dog has seem to take a liking to him! Although slightly worried, the dog at least let gojo pet him now without any hesitation.
When you get back, you’re meet the sight of your boyfriend holding your dog up gushing on him like he’s his own dog.
“I see you two got along.”
“Of course we did! We both love the same person after all.”
It seems as though your dog can hear now, cause he jumps off of gojo and holds his ground near you as he growls at him once more.
This is definitely gonna take a while.
KENTO N.
• let’s be for real, your dog would love nanami no questions asked. He could already tell that the fellow gentleman to you is worthy of not being barked at! Though a little superstitious but that’s just because he’s meeting someone new.
“You can pet him you know…”
“You told me though that he barks at others near you, so I’m not taking my chances.”
“Weird though…he’s not barking or growling. Especially since your so close to me.”
You nudge nanami a bit playfully and he looks to you, seeing a soft smile on your face. He sighs softly before giving in and crouching down, your dog stays in it’s position although he starts to move, sniffing nanami’s hand. And then he licks it!
He’s a little taken aback, but the little gasp in your voice makes him melt seeing you so delighted that your dog looks him. Nanami then places his hand back on the dogs head after seeing those big eyes of his. (Similar to how he can’t say no to you when you give him that look)
You are most definitely pleased when nanami seems to have taken a soft spot for your dog, as time passes, he’s offered to walk your dog and even along the way buys him treats! Isn’t he just so caring?
Your dog can right next to you and will gladly let nanami stick close by, even going as far as holding your hand or his arms around you! It only warms your heart more when your dog sits beside him now.
After a couple days, Nanami ask you if he can take your dog out. He won’t say it outright, but it’s obvious to one that nanami has gained a liking to the little dog and caring for it as such. Walks around town with a cute dog by his side, contrasting to his intimidating present.
Quite the sight for sore eyes.
MEGUMI F.
• To be honest, it was a 50/50 in your mind. Animals in general liked megumi already, and he’s caring to them more than he is to most people. But you still hold a little doubt that your dog might view him as a threat since you know, you two are together. So why not see and get the answer you need?
It’s like the two are having a stare down, megumi looks down at your dog, and your dog stares at him with his ears up and alerted. Their eyes bore into the others and you feel almost uncomfortable. It’s like they’re speaking to eachother through the mind!
“The dog doesn’t seem to like me.”
His voice settled out the atmosphere as your dog has his ears dropped down, you can hear a little hint of melancholy in megumi voice. His lip is pulled into a frown but it’s almost natural, though you know too well that megumi is feeling a little disappointed. Especially for the care love, he holds for animals.
“I don’t think so exactlyy, I mean, he’s not growling. Especially since you’re pretty close to me.”
You lean closer into megumi which makes him startled a bit before he relaxes, he sees how your dog seems almost distant.
“Is he scared of me?”
“I don’t think so? Hold up…”
You move towards your dog as you pick him up, and megumi feels his heart swell at seeing your dog lick your face. He can definitely tell your dog cherishes you a lot.
You stand next to him once more, and the little dog looks even cuter up close. Though megumi is not going to admit that. The dog sniffs his clothes before moving his nose closer to his cheek. This isn’t exactly new, it’s similar in the way you do your fleeting cheek kisses to tease him or how his shikigami will act towards him.
“See? He just wanted to be closer to you.”
Your voice is quite as if cherishing this moment, it feels as though the proximity is making megumi flush. His head moves closer to the dog, and his hand meets the soft fur of the dog in your hands.
“Can I hold him?”
You hum out as you position your dog into his arms, megumi already knows how to hold the dog and tried to be as gentle as he possibly can. Seeing him so determined to make the dog feel at ease makes your heart pound, the soft spot megumi has for animals one you will always cherish.
Eventually, you two moved onto the couch and it seems as though megumi can’t get tired of holding your dog. He plays with him some, rubs his belly some, and once your dog gets tired, he uses megumi as bed for his rest.
“Looks like you won’t be able to move for a while huh?”
“Yeah…seems so.”
I think if you asked, he might be a little hesitant to bring out his demon dogs to meet the pup. Though one day you get lucky enough to see the three interact and megumi watching guard. Though you can tell he’s watching to see this moment for his own being, and a little smile can be seen on his face.
YUJI I.
• ultimate protective mode! Though he won’t say. Since you’ve told him how your dog can get, he hasn’t exactly been super affectionate with you because he feels as though your dog is going to to jump him. “He just might!” He tells you, and you can’t really deny it. Tries to act tough though when outside the door, but when it’s opened and he sees your dog, he becomes a little anxious.
“I think your dog already hates me…”
“Cmonnn it’s been one minute! Nothing has happened!”
“Yet.”
Yuji keeps his distance, it’s almost as if he has this invisible gear on to help protect himself from the little critter. The dog stares at yuji, and gets up from its place and walks towards him. Yuji looks to you, and then the dog, then he feels the dog sniff him.
“Hey little guy…”
Yuji thinks he’s safe, so he crouches down and tries to pet the dog although the dog did not appreciate his actions, biting his hand lightly while backing up.
“The hell?! He just bit me! Look!”
You try and not laugh, but yuji makes a distressed face as he moves towards you. Another big mistake.
“Yuji wait-“
Too late it seems, cause your dog just latched onto yujis pants making the boy gasp out…
“This bitch! I swear, why do you have him as a pet! He’s a little demon!”
“Yuji! Don’t say that he’s only a couple months old!”
Very not cool. Especially when you pick up your dog cooing at him to stop but turn a blind eye when he gives you those big dog eyes. Yuji watches as he makes a big huff in return.
Though, it’s not like your dog won’t ever warm up to yuji. In fact, he’s made it his mission to get your dog to like him as much as possible! After all, he wants your dog to like him enough so he can cuddle you when hes around.
A day is spent with your dog and yuji at the park as the have little runs together, where yuji learns that your dog is rather shy in public and around new people. Thus sticking close to him and allowing yuji to be affectionate with him.
The day yuji has achieved the best reward of all, is the day he can walk into your home and greet you with a hug without your dog barking. Your dog still sticks close by, but in regards for Yuji arriving.
Though it took some time, yuji comes to realize him and your dog are rather similar. In the aspect that both boys swear to protect you whenever they are around.
YUTA O.
• boy is nervous as hell to meet your dog, especially when you tell him your dog is quite protective over you and will bark or growl at those who are close to you. Which makes it hard for him since he’s rather clingy…but yuta tries to stay positive as he thinks of the possibility of trying to get your dog to like him. It breaks his heart if he can’t be able to get along with the dog you love so much.
“Yutaaa, come closer! I’m holding him so he can’t do that much if he doesn’t like you!”
Yuta can’t help but have a pout, though the need to be closer to you is killing him. He moves closer, and to his disappointment, your dog starts growling.
“Well…I don’t think that’s such a good sign.”
He sheepishly rubs at his neck and looks down, he sees you look saddened at this since yuta is just so sweet! How could your dog growl at him first meet?
Yuta can tell you’re trying so hard to get your dog to warm up to him, though your dog just can’t help but growl at yuta whenever he tries and calmly pet him.
“[name], it’s fine really! We can always try this another time!”
“But yuta!”
He tries to laugh it off, but inside he’s rather sad at this moment. Especially when your dog can cuddle with you and he has to watch from afar. Is this how it feels to be unloved?
With the hatred that he is dealing with from your dog, yuta can only try and help ease his way into your dogs heart. So thus trying to get to know the dog one on one!
At first, he kinda panicked with making sure he didn’t hurt your dog at all. Boy was so nervous when putting on his collar cause he thought your dog would bite him:( but your dog in fact did not. Instead, yuta spends the day with the little dog walking and learning how intelligent your dog is. He finds it amusing and feels content with the experience of today.
“Soooo, how’d it go?”
The boy walks in like a shining star as he smiles at you and then the dog next to him, yuta can only blush as he sees you.
“Good! At least I hope so…”
The fact that he still doubts himself makes you giggle a bit, before you feel the dip of the bed with yuta pulling you close and the dog jumping up with the two of you. The fact that it’s only been a day and your dog has completely changed around yuta actually surprised you. Though at least you can be affectionate with yuta now around him.
Yuta cradles the dog in his arms and the sight makes your heart clench, seeing him so happy with your dog is a miracle to you honestly.
“It’s like he’s our little child..”
Oh. That definitely had you alright.
a/n: idk why this turned out so long….personally I love megumis
#koiir writes#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#gojo fluff#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami x you#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fluff#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro#itadori yuji x reader#yuji x reader#yuji fluff#yuji x you#yuta okkotsu x reader#jjk yuta#yuuta x reader#yuta x reader#yuta fluff#yuta okkotsu#megumi x you#nanami fluff#megumi x y/n
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Routine
Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
A/N: Hi everyone! I told you that I had a hubby-treat for you, and it is finally here. I’m very excited to share this one with you as it is something that I’ve gotten a ton of requests for. You love the simplicity of domestic life, so here’s the life of Los Peñas after you’ve begged to see what their routine looks like.
Like always: A huge thanks to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for being a patient, sweet and talented beta-reader.
Summary: A day in the life of Javier Peña and his growing family.
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18, MDNI, hubby!javi’s POV and introspection, pregnant reader, pregnancy symptoms, family dynamics, domestic routines, tooth-rotting domestic bliss, siblings being siblings, married banter, heart-to-hearts, references to Reassess, family conflicts, casanova!javi turned oblivious!javi, javier with a baby needs a warning, handsy and inappropriate!javi, mention of javier’s mother, baby scan talk, hubby being a DAD!, couch cuddles (with and without kids), sex toys (not explicitly a rose but something along the lines, and while I know we are in the 00s, let’s pretend that sucking toys and cordless toys were a thing for the sake of the story), f masturbation, pregnancy sex, consent king javi, teasing, light dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, light verbal humiliation, nipple play, nipple orgasm, overstim, intense sex, multiple orgasms, m masturbation, wife is an insatiable brat and a screamer, slight dacryphilia, piv sex, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, slight subdrop, lots of praises and aftercare, baths and hair washing,
Word count: 17.2k (sorry)
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56355349
Routine
Javier’s alarm goes off at 6:30 AM each morning. He breathes deeply in through his nose as he is woken by the beeping sounds of his alarm clock, pulls his arm out from under the covers where it is wrapped around your waist, and moves it to the button on top of the device. He fumbles to find it for a moment, ending up smacking his hand into the plastic with a grunt.
You stir beside him when he falls back down on his back. He rubs his eyes until he sees fireworks behind his lids, moving the hand down to smooth his thumb and forefinger along his mustache.
“It’s 6:30,” he then tells you, reaching for your shoulder to shake you gently until you whine a no and cover your face with your arms. He smiles as your half-asleep state makes you no better than his only daughter, “Come on, mi amor (my love). Another day.”
“Thank God, it’s Friday,” you mumble, “One more wake-up routine and I might leave to start a new life as an actually interesting person, maybe a psychic woman.”
“Telling fortunes?” He muses with a goofy smile even if you cannot see him. He reaches to pull your arms away, “C’mon now.”
“Yes, maybe,” you give in and sit up, resting your folded hands on top of your pregnant belly, “The spirits are telling me that you are waking up the queen of this household. I’ll take Seb later.”
You are still on leave after giving birth to Sebastian but after Javier has started his new job, the both of you have discussed the idea of you being a stay-at-home mother for some time after the twins have been born too. You do most of your work on your computer anyway, and if you quit your job, there’ll be plenty of opportunities to do some freelance stuff for extra income. Javier isn’t over the moon about you playing the part of the cherry-pie-making housewife but you reason that you only get to experience the kids as kids once which he can’t argue with (especially not when he chose a different job for the exact same reason).
“You sure have a gift, all-seeing wife,” Javier nods in agreement and kisses your lips even as you say you have a terrible case of morning breath. Then, resting on his hands, he bends down to kiss your stomach too, “Anything else Mamá wants?”
“Can you make breakfast?” You blink prettily, “I’ll do school lunches and coffee.”
“Sure,” he leans over you and smirks when your noses bump together, “How do you want your eggs? Except fertilized, obviously.”
“Javi,” you scold but giggle and initiate a kiss anyway. He kisses you longingly because he hasn’t for eight long hours of sleep. When he pulls back, heat has risen to your cheek, “Just scrambled.”
“You got it,” he moves and gets out of the bed. It is 6:36 AM now and he calculates the time he’ll have to wake up Inés as well as make breakfast if he needs to get in the shower before leaving too. He doesn’t have to stress.
“And Javi?” You call from the bed.
He turns around in the doorway to the master bathroom, “Yes?”
“Good morning,” you beam.
“Good morning, baby,” he smiles.
He takes a quick moment to wash his face, leaving the door open so you can run back and forth to pee the million times that you need to each morning. He doesn’t say anything, just listens to you moving around as you brush your hair and put on soft sweatpants. He tries to imagine what you’ll be wearing when he sees you later because you always shower after sending him and the children out of the door. He hopes that you will wear your blue sundress now that it's warmer than ever.
When he emerges from the bathroom to plan what he is going to wear for the day, you are already gone and he can hear the radio playing music in the kitchen. He revises his material for today’s lecture about criminal behavior as he takes a white shirt off its hanger and reaches for a pair of dress pants, but he can barely concentrate when he cannot wait to see you downstairs.
Finishing up his little routine, he walks out of the bedroom and down the hallway upstairs. He knocks once on Lucas’ door before peeking into the room, “Let’s go, muchacho (young man).”
Lucas passes him a moment later, fully dressed and with his school bag over his shoulder. He looks so grown that Javier wants to topple over, “Morning, mijo (my son).”
“Don’t worry, Dad. I’m up,” he smiles.
Javier raises a brow, “I can see that. Thanks for making my life easier. I’ll go wake up la monita (the little monkey) then.”
He continues to Inés’ room. She has not woken up yet, deep asleep with the covers half on the floor. She is lying on her stomach with her arms above her head, her mouth agape as she snores gently, her hair an unruly mess, and her pajama top askew on her back.
He crouches down by her bed and runs a hand over her back, speaking softly as he wakes her up with the intention of not accidentally startling her, “Inés, mi niña (my girl), it’s time to wake up.”
It takes a whole minute for her to escape the land of the sleeping and release the clutch on her pillow. She furrows her brow, yawns animatedly, and rubs her eyes with her tiny fists in the same way he does every day.
“There she is,” he smiles, “It’s almost seven, we gotta get up for school.”
“I don’t wanna,” she complains with a pout and earns a gentle hand running over her hair. She buries her face further into the pillow and looks like she’s already about to turn to her weapon consisting of crocodile tears.
“I don’t want to either but Mom is already packing your lunch. Don’t you want to see Ava and Jacob?” He helps her sit up, trying to distract her from her tantrum.
“Ava says her mom is sad,” Inés shakes her head but the accidental opportunity to talk about her troubles makes Javier able to undress her without much fuss. He gives her a sympathetic look. Mira, Ava’s mother, is still divorcing her husband Jonathan, and it is the first time that Inés has been confronted with the idea that not all parents stay together. He nods in understanding, “But Ava says that her mom is the one who didn’t want to be with her daddy anymore.”
“Sometimes you can be sad even if it’s a choice you make yourself,” Javier explains as he gets her out of bed, kneeling in front of her on the floor to help her into her underwear and bottoms. He pulls them up over her hips, “Maybe she thought it was nicer to leave so she could not make him sad again.”
Inés listens to his explanation but just as she is about to nod, she frowns and shakes her head instead, “That’s stupid. Mommy says that you stay and talk about things when you are sad.”
Javier pauses with the blouse you chose for her yesterday in his hands, trying to find the correct way to explain why adults act the way they do to his daughter. It’s so early in the morning and she had barely been awake two minutes ago. He takes a deep breath before speaking, "Well sometimes grown-ups have disagreements or feelings that are hard to understand, and when those feelings become too strong, they might decide that it's best to be apart instead of being sad together."
Inés furrows her brow even more but raises her arms up in the air to let him pull the blouse over her head, “Is Ava sad too?"
Javier pulls her arms out of the sleeves and brushes her hair out of her concerned and skeptical face, "Ava might be feeling sad right now too but she has her friends, you for example, and her family to cheer her up, just like you have me and Mamá.”
Inés falls into him and hugs him, giggling as he picks her up and purposely turns her the wrong way around in his arms until she tells him off with a squeal. She throws her arms around his neck when she finally sits on his hip and kisses his cheek, "I'm glad I have you, Papá. I love you!"
Javier vows that he won’t cry from emotion so early in the morning. He is worse than you sometimes when it comes to these things, chest constricting as tears well up in his throat, “I wouldn’t know what to do without you, mi amor (my love). Let’s go get breakfast before we do your hair. How do you want it?”
“Pigtails,” she decides loudly as they leave the room.
Downstairs, Lucas has chosen cereal for himself and is reading the comic he got last month at the dining table. Inés says hello to him from her seat on Javier’s hip, and he waves back at her until she giggles and hides her face against her father’s shoulder.
Javier carries her to you as you cut carrot and cucumber slices for her lunchbox. You turn to them.
“Morning, Mamá!” She chirps happily and you give her a kiss.
“Hi, baby,” you reply and notice the faint traces of tears in the corner of Javier’s eyes. You raise your brows, “Did you give your dad any trouble?”
“We had a little chat about Mira and Jonathan,” he explains quickly and stuffs a carrot in Inés’ mouth before walking to plop her down on a dining chair. Inés chews and immediately gets enchanted by her older brother, looking at the pictures of Spiderman on the pages in front of them while asking him to explain.
“Are you okay?” You put a hand on his arm, rubbing affectionately all the way up to the back of his neck. He reaches to put his hand on top of yours and smiles reassuringly.
“Just got a love declaration of the ages,” he explains before letting go. He moves to open the fridge and calculates the amount of eggs he’ll need.
“Ahh, sentiment,” you say with a knowing smile. Without a word, you get a pan out for him and place it on the stove, working with him in a symbiotic manner that he grows more and more fond of with each passing morning you spend together as a family.
He cracks the eggs out into a bowl to make sure there are no shells and then starts scrambling them whilst you click the button on the coffee machine. Soon, the delicious smell of fresh coffee and breakfast fills up the room and you open a window to let the sound of chirping birds join the music on the radio.
“Eat up, we’re leaving in 45 minutes,” he places the plate in front of Inés and kisses her hair. She takes the fork you bring a second after and stabs the eggs with determination.
She chatters excitedly about the plans for her day between bites of eggs and looks outraged when Lucas occasionally steals a piece from her plate. He makes a peace offering by moving his chair closer to hers so he can hold the comic in front of them both.
Javier goes to pour coffee into his favorite mug whilst you have tea and you eat the rest of the scrambled eggs directly from the pan together with him. He admires you whilst you rest against the kitchen table, having a conversation with your kids whilst nourishing your twin babies.
As the comfortable morning routine proceeds, he catches your eyes from across the room and you smile so tenderly each time. Rays of sunlight are coming in from the window, dancing over the fabric of your comfortable clothes and making your already glowing skin glow even brighter as you hold the mug of tea in both hands. He knows how lucky he is to have this life with you after the chaotic years of his youth. Who knew that life could start when one thought it was over?
He recalls the very first time he laid eyes on you and how he knew he wanted to marry you by the end of the night (you still don’t believe this). He remembers thinking that he didn’t deserve a life with you and all the love you brought with you, remembers how you said that the only thing that mattered was whether he wanted it or not. He has never once wavered from this want since you allowed him to kiss you for the first time.
Lost in thought, he almost doesn’t realize that you have started to move around the kitchen to clear the table and stuff the lunchboxes into each respective school bag. He takes a brief moment more to longingly gaze after you.
You are so graceful in your fourth pregnancy even if you deny it each time he compliments you, your stomach a bump so round and plenty visible already. The both of you are nearly four months into what has been the biggest shock of your lives. All the time, he thinks back to how difficult it was to conceive the first two of his kids and feels a tug in his chest of endless gratitude for being a father.
He could never describe the flood of pride that had erupted in his heart when he went from being a father of three to suddenly being a father of almost five in a matter of a single second you spent together in an ob-gyn's office on a regular Tuesday morning. He remembers seeing your overwhelmed and tear-stained face when you had thrown yourself back into the examination chair with simultaneous happiness and panic flashing in your eyes. The babble of words was barely comprehensible but they made him kiss your eyelids until you gave him a smile.
He had called you his very best girl when the doctor had left to give you both a moment of privacy, held your trembling hand, and told you that he would be right there with you every step of the way, which seemed to calm you instantly. He is grateful that he has that effect on you just as you have the very same effect on him. He knows he can never feel what it’s like to bear children but he knows that every fiber of his body tells him that he will never allow you to be scared if he can help it.
These days, he won’t even allow you to be exhausted either which is why he picks up Inés from her seat again and carries her upstairs to the bathroom. When pregnant, you always pack the car with Lucas instead of walking around with your preschooler on your hip.
“Right,” he hooks a foot around the leg of the stool underneath the sink and drags it out so Inés can stand on it. She grabs the edge of the sink and makes a face in the mirror now that she’s tall enough to admire herself, “Pigtails, wasn’t it?”
Inés nods eagerly when Javier gets out the box of hair ties from underneath the cabinet next to the sink, “I want the Minnie Mouse bows.”
“Excellent choice,” Javier praises as he reaches for her hairbrush too. He combs her hair, starting at the bottom and gradually going upwards just like you have taught him the second that he became a father to a little girl. You had even made a hair boot camp, sitting on the couch and nursing Inés whilst he practiced a few different hairstyles that you would rate on a scale of one to ten.
He parts Inés’ hair down the middle and starts with the right pigtail, gathering all the hair in his hand with the help of the brush. His daughter grimaces at the slight tug but then her face lights up as she remembers something.
“Daddy! Mommy says I have to do my daily affirmations before school!” She beams at him in the mirror, excited because complimenting herself clearly makes her feel good. Javier cannot believe how fantastic of a mother you are because it would have never even occurred to him that this was the simplest way of teaching his children to be kind to themselves.
“Alright, let’s hear them, mija (my daughter),” he says and finishes the second pigtail. He takes a step back, holding his daughter’s head in place like you have taught him to make sure the hairstyle is symmetrical. Satisfied, he looks at the digital clock on top of the cabinet. He figures they can spare the two minutes it takes.
Inés looks herself in the eye when he has let go of her again. She straightens her back like she has seen cartoon characters do, admiring her reflection, and starts reciting with a big smile on her little face.
“I am smart.”
Yes, she is. Sometimes too smart for her own good. Javier smiles. There’s a pause.
“I am brave.”
The bravest.
“I have good ideas—“ she halts, turning around to look at him with a frown as if it wouldn’t have the same effect if she had simply sent him the look through the bathroom mirror, “Daddy, you have to say it too.”
She watches him expectantly and he cannot bear to let her down even if he feels slightly embarrassed to talk so highly about himself out loud. He takes a deep breath, a weird feeling in his chest as he meets his own gaze, “I am smart. I am brave. I have good ideas.”
“Good, Daddy!” Inés radiates joy and sports a big toothy grin. She says another one, “I can say no.”
Javier doesn’t catch on to the fact that he has to keep going. Inés turns around to him again with her hands in her sides, “Now you say it, Daddy!”
“Inés…” He chuckles and feels slightly apprehensive. Vulnerability isn’t something he is insecure about but the act of openly saying such nice sentiments to himself hits a nerve somewhere in his chest, imitating a feeling of performance anxiety that he only recognizes from the times he has gone to an exam.
“Mommy says it makes us feel good inside,” Inés doesn’t let it go, dragging out the minute that he has put aside for this. He knows there’s no way around this and he knows that you would tell him to lead by example. He pretends to cough in an attempt to hide his hesitation, knowing that his confidence and self-love will only fuel his children’s. What more could he want as a father?
“I can say no,” he tells his reflection.
“I can do hard things,” Inés continues. Javier repeats it.
“I am a good friend,” she proudly voices and he hugs her from behind to parrot each word, tightening his arms around her more and more until eventually, he tickles her when she has said her last sentence, “I am loved. There’s no one I would rather be than myself.”
She squeals with delight and slight panic, laughing in his arms in the loud and free manner that only a child can. He gets filled up with warmth and baby fever, trying his hardest to compose himself since they have to leave soon even if he just wants to keep going.
“Time to brush your teeth and pee before we leave, monita (little monkey),” he tells her and she follows through without any protest.
When he has told her to help you finish packing her bag, he gets his clothes from the bedroom and gets in for a quick shower. He washes his hair and body, scrubbing his beard with his fingers while revising his material one last time.
At last, he stands in front of the mirror, putting on his watch, buckling his belt, and fixing the collar of his crisp white shirt. He finishes with his cologne, shaking his sleeve upward on his arm after brushing his teeth to check the time. 7:37 AM.
“Do you have everything?” You ask when everyone is back in the kitchen again.
“I hate leaving you alone all day,” Javier mumbles as you hand over his bag along with Inés’ school bag. Despite Javier’s hands being full, you still place your palms on his chest and kiss him on the mouth.
“Then stop getting me pregnant,” you whisper against his mouth.
“But it’s just so fun,” he notes and kisses you a few times more when you try to pull away, “They should stop making it so fun. You should stop making me feel so good.”
“Dad,” Lucas interrupts you with a grimace, “We’re gonna be late.”
“Alright, out the door, all of you,” you scratch Javier’s chest briefly before walking out of the room to the front door. You hold it open and watch the three of them scuttling out of the house. Javier wants to count the hours before he gets to see you again.
“And remember, Daddy’s picking you up after school today!” You yell from the door and he turns to walk backwards to the car with a grin on his face. He hears Inés cheer at this fact and secretly, he wants to cheer himself because he never gets to do it. You have an appointment with your ob-gyn doctor later to check if everything is alright with the babies, something they have insisted on since they found out there were two. He’ll have to leave work early but it’ll give him more time with his children in the afternoon.
He checks each of their seat belts to make sure they’re secure, hesitating for just a second as he gets ready to close the car door, “Hands inside the car, c’mon.”
Inés throws her palms up and he pushes the car door shut with a smile before walking around the front, tapping the hood with his knuckles and waving at you one last time. You smile widely and mouth that you love him. You close the door, and he only starts the car when he sees you in the kitchen window.
—
The car ride to school is fairly short but it consists of Javier listening to a lot of happy chatter about nothing from Inés in the way only a four-year-old can do. In the ten minutes it takes, he manages to answer questions about why the sky is blue, why there’s no such thing as dragons in Texas, if there are twin ladybugs just like there are twins in your tummy, and if she can try driving the car later.
Lucas only joins in when she asks whether they can get a dog. He grabs at the back of his father’s seat and lifts himself as far forward as the seat belt will allow only to get told to sit back down.
“A dog is a big responsibility, you know,” Javier swings the car into a parking spot. He looks back over the seat after turning off the engine, “Mommy and I have you and Seb to take care of, and the twins eventually too.”
“Nunca vamos a tener un perro (we’re never gonna get a dog),” Lucas grumbles and throws himself back into the seat. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks out the window.
“Never?” Inés’ eyes widen.
“Oye, eso no es lo que dije (hey, that’s not what I said),” Javier replies, pocketing the car keys, “I’m just saying that we’ll have our hands full soon.”
“That’s not my fault and I didn’t even want more siblings,” Lucas says under his breath and Inés squirms in her seat at the tension in the tiny space.
“Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t want you saying things like that,” Javier says firmly.
Lucas huffs. For once, Inés is quiet.
“Look at me,” Javier tells him and his son reluctantly finds his gaze again, “We don’t talk about each other like that and we especially don’t make each other feel unwanted.”
There’s a painful mixture of shame, vulnerability, and frustration on the eight-year-old’s face, “I know, Dad, I’m sorry… it’s just that sometimes it feels like I’m the one who has to always give up what I want.”
Javier knows the irony of his previous statement as soon as he hears those words. Accompanied by the look he receives from his son, it’s enough to make him swallow thickly, “I’m sorry, mijo (my son). I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”
There’s a pause. Lucas starts to open the door, “It’s okay. I know that you’re right and a dog won’t be happy if we don’t have time for it. That’s what Mom says anyway.”
He gets out and Inés finally pipes up when they’re alone. She frowns and looks out the window to watch Lucas stand with his hands clutching the straps of his bag, “Can’t we just have a little dog?”
“I have to talk to Mom about it,” he sighs, “Let’s get through this day first.”
The two of them finally get out of the car to join Lucas. Javier locks the car. He starts to lean down over his son, wants to press an affectionate kiss to his hair that’s so much like his own it hurts, but Lucas shakes him off.
“Dad,” the eight-year-old bites at him, his tone full of embarrassment. He suppresses a scowl even if it’s only a half-hearted one and instead looks around to see if anyone saw him.
Javier straightens again, trying to pretend the slight rejection didn’t sting too much. Lucas is turning nine soon but he hadn’t guessed that he’d be so much of a preteen already. He has no clue if he is doing okay with him but he vows to get a smile out of him before they part for the day.
“I’ll talk to Mom about it,” Javier eventually promises. It’s not untrue.
“Whatever, it’s fine,” Lucas replies with a fake smile and looks away.
“Lucas, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you,” he drops Inés’ bag and thinks fuck it. He crouches down to hold both his arms, rubbing them soothingly, and feels relief at not being rejected again, “I know you really want a dog but you gotta cut your Mom and me some slack here, okay? We’ve never had three kiddos at the same time. Just like you’ve never had two siblings before.”
“Four,” his son mutters.
“It’ll be okay,” he tells him with a smile. He is steadfast as he continues, “And I mean it, I will talk to Mom but her verdict is final. She’s the pregnant one.”
“Okay,” Lucas says with uncertainty.
“Okaaay,” he parrots to him in a silly voice with a gentle squeeze.
“Okay,” Lucas says with a little laugh.
“Okay,” Inés chimes in with excitement.
Lucas laughs genuinely this time and Javier feels his heart leap. He picks up the bag from the ground and stands once more, only to bend down and kiss his son’s hair, “School waits. Inés and I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Dad, bye, Inés,” he nods, “I love you.”
“I love you too!!!” Inés yells loudly and Javier takes her hand with the one not carrying her bag.
“Love you, mijo (my son).”
—
The next stop is Inés’ classroom. She runs a few meters in front of him the whole way there but because of her little legs, he never gets too far behind her. He feels so relieved that she’s always this excited for school but with the way that you tell him that she’s so much like him, he also knows that it’s just a matter of time before she grows tired of school during her teen years. Teen years. He shouldn’t think about that already since the thought of her growing is unbearable.
“Inés, slow down,” he says despite not needing to, wanting a bit of control, “I don’t want you falling and scraping your knees, mi amor (my love).”
When she doesn’t immediately follow orders, he holds out his hand for her to take, “Inés.”
She turns her head toward him as she runs down the hall, so close to her goal which is her classroom, and tumbles into a woman coming out of the room. Javier puts a hand on his head in shock, dropping his daughter’s bag and walking straight to them whilst apologizing profusely.
“It’s alright,” the woman says with a sweet smile in his direction and then in Inés’ direction. She’s tall and blonde, wearing a coat in this boiling weather which must mean she’s not used to Texas, “We’re both alright, aren’t we?”
“Sorry,” Inés says genuinely.
“Well, aren’t you well-behaved?” She is grinning now.
“Daddy, can I go inside and play with Ava?” Inés looks longingly towards the door.
He goes to pick up her bag, “Sí (yes), but take your backpack and I’ll talk to the nice lady.”
Inés does as she is told, standing perfectly still whilst he helps the bag onto her shoulders. He kisses the top of her head, “Ves a jugar (Go and play). I’ll pick you up later today.”
“They’re great at that age,” the woman says with a dreamy smile after Inés bounds into the classroom, “I dropped mine off a moment ago.”
“They in the same class?” He asks.
“As of last week. Oh, and it’s Emily, actually, not ‘nice lady’,” the stranger reveals, holding out her hand for a shake, “And you’re Javier, right?”
“That’s right,” he shakes her hand. Great, even she knows who he is and he prepares himself for the usual speech about him being known all over Laredo, doing everything in his power to not make his mouth a straight line.
However, she nods towards the door and surprises him by saying nothing of the sort. Instead, she makes it about herself which shouldn’t be nice but it is, “Inés’ father? My daughter has mentioned her a few times. We’re new here, moved from Upstate New York. Work. You know.”
“That explains the coat,” he says with a little smirk.
She reacts by putting her hand on her cheek and then her forehead, feeling a blush that’s not there. He is too oblivious to know that she’s fishing for a compliment on her appearance, “That obvious, huh? I probably look like a red crab. I’m boiling.”
“You look fine,” he reassures, “But hit up the AC in your car or at least take that thing off. Survival mode, you know, do it for the kids.”
Emily giggles. He smiles.
“We should arrange a playdate sometime. My daughter could use some friends. I think we both could. We could get some coffee if you know a place,” she suggests in an attempt at a flirtation but even if it’s so glaringly obvious, he just doesn’t pick up on it.
Instead, his mind circles back to you in the kitchen he built for you, “I’m busy most days but I’m sure my wife would be thrilled to set something up. Inés can’t just be playing with our friends’ daughter all the time.”
“Oh,” there’s a slight change in Emily’s demeanor after that. Her smile falters ever so slightly, and there's a fleeting look of disappointment in her eyes but he can't quite pinpoint the cause of her sudden change in mood. He brushes it off, "Well, I should probably let you get back to your day. I suppose your name and number are on the class’ contact list?”
He tries to keep up the upbeat tone of their conversation but she just smiles awkwardly, "Yes. Of course, Javier. I'll look forward to it."
As he turns to leave, he catches a glimpse of Emily's expression, and he can't shake the feeling that something is amiss. He furrows his brow, wondering all the way to the car what he did wrong and doesn’t know that if you had been there, you would have been laughing your ass off the second Emily had left.
He brushes it off the second the radio comes on in the car and heads to work afterward. The day feels easy; he gets to come home, gets to watch his kids grow up in front of his eyes and in the evening he will make love to his beautiful wife. Such a fact makes days at work pass like seconds, and he smiles all the way from his car when the bell rings for his first lesson.
—
Around two in the afternoon on the same day, Javier enters his house with his kids following right behind him. He comes home to you feeding Sebastian mashed avocado in his high chair, and in the meantime cutely imitating his babbling about nothing right back at the little green monster that used to be his son. He walks up to you after putting his bag down on a dining chair.
“Hey,” you say with avocado on your forehead.
Javier reaches up to rub it off, sucking it off his finger before pecking your lips, “Hola, mi amor (hello, my love). How’s your day been? Scan go okay?”
He kisses Sebastian’s head too before turning his attention to you. You’re scraping the last bits of avocado onto the baby spoon before feeding it to your son.
“I’ll tell you about the scan later. I need to talk to you about it… but Seb and I have had such a good day, ain’t that right, baby?” You tickle Sebastian’s cheeks, not caring about being covered in green too. Sebastian giggles and clenches his fist around some of the avocado he has had in his hand for a while. Javier decides not to press any further since you don’t look worried, especially not as you watch Sebastian slam his fist into the plate in front of him afterward, “We tried sweet potatoes today, didn’t we? Y probamos fresas del mercado, pasta con un poco de queso (And we tried strawberries from the market, pasta with a bit of cheese)."
Javier grins at your excitement, watching you reach for a piece of paper towel to wipe off all the excess food from your child now that he has been allowed to eat more independently with just a bit of help, "Mi hijo es un foodie, ¿eh? (my son is a foodie, huh?)"
Lucas pops his head in through the kitchen door with Inés loyally following right behind, “Mom, did you say strawberries?”
You walk to the kitchen table and grab the cardboard basket of strawberries, holding it out for your eldest son. You shake it a little, “They’re really good.”
He takes one and hands it to Inés before he grabs one for himself afterward. He smiles contentedly after biting into it, happily chewing the sweet berry and looking down at his sister to see her reaction as well, “Good?”
You offer Javier a strawberry too. He eats a whole one, doesn’t even bother to pick off the green part, and earns a little crinkle of your nose. He winks at your reaction and the expression of disapproval turns into a smile that sets his heart into overdrive.
Inés lights up after finishing the berry, “Can I have one more?”
“Consider it your afternoon snack,” you say. You pull out a chair around the dining table, placing the basket of strawberries on the table, “Do you want a PB&J sandwich too?”
“Yes!” She runs across the room to crawl onto the seat, waiting patiently with her hands flat on the table until she cannot resist nearly smothering herself with another strawberry.
“Do you want one too, Luke?” You ask.
“Yes, please. Thank you, Mom,” he says politely and goes to sit down too. He taps a rhythm on the table that Inés fails at replicating. From his high chair, Sebastian joins in by slamming his palms into the table and the luckily empty baby platter.
“Javi, can you take Seb for his nap?” You ask while reaching for the jar of peanut butter in the cupboard. You cannot find it, frowning at the realization that you must have placed it somewhere else. Javier hears you mutter to yourself about your damn pregnancy brain.
He walks up behind you, a hand on the small of your back as he leans over you. You freeze but then relax into his touch. He reaches into the far back of the cupboard, feeling for the jar, and fetches it, “You told me to hide it, baby. You eat too much of it with just the lid off and a spoon.”
“I should stop denying the babies it if that’s what they want,” you giggle to hide your embarrassment at having forgotten and pat your pregnant belly. You look so pretty in your dress, the one he had hoped that you would wear; blue as the sky above with tiny yellow bees flying around on it.
He hands you the jar of peanut butter and cannot help but admire the gentle curve of your stomach, that certain glow making you radiant in the mundane setting of his kitchen. He can never help ogling you when you care for his children and it’s even worse when you carry them as well.
“You look so gorgeous right now, mi vida (my life),” he rubs the small of your back and slides his palm around you to your belly, breathing against your ear as he talks. You turn your head just a little to smile playfully at him and thank him in a soft whisper.
Javier looks back to see his kids chatting with each other, so he presses into you a little more.
“I got a bed with your name on it later,” he continues quietly as he still stands right behind you, letting his hand drop to your hip. You shove a little at him but it’s nowhere near enough to actually mean that you want him to stop. He lets his warm breath ghost over the soft shell of your ear until you let out a sigh that you only reserve for him. He continues until he can look at your neck and see your pulse throbbing under your skin, “I could just eat you up. Take you to our bedroom, lock the door… throw you on the bed, and take your clothes off with my teeth.”
“Pórtate bien (Behave),” you scold him with a bit more mischief than what he assumes is intended, “I have sandwiches to make and we’ll be sorry later if Seb misses his nap.”
He adds a finishing touch to his attempt at a flirtation by shielding you from his kids’ line of sight. The broad hand that has been resting on your hip slips further down. and Javier allows himself a grope to your backside. He jiggles the fleshiest part of it and you finally have enough, turning around quickly with a look of mock outrage.
“Thin ice, baby, thin ice,” you chide but he simply pecks you on the lips and turns towards his children again.
“Vamos, pequeño (let’s go, little one),” he says to Sebastian as he approaches him, lifting him out of his high chair and placing him on his hip. He feels your disapproving eyes as he walks out of the kitchen but just smirks to himself, heading for the stairs to go to the nursery.
In the room, he places Sebastian on the changing table and checks his diaper. He also removes as much clothing as possible, making sure he won’t overheat in the bassinet. His son grins up at him, not seeming tired at first but then starts blinking slowly as the nap ritual proceeds.
“Oh, you are tired, mijo (my son),” he whispers softly as he cradles him towards his chest afterward. He feels Sebastian resting his chubby cheek against his shoulder, breathing slowly as he starts falling asleep from being bounced in his father’s arms.
Javier hums, savoring the moment that he knows is fleeting with his son. He is reminded of needing to ask you about the doctor’s appointment again, excitement in his body as he thinks about two sets of tiny feet running across his living room floor at the same time. As a child, he never really understood why he couldn’t get a sibling but his understanding of what was happening to his mother only came a little later until he stopped asking altogether. He loves that his house is so full now.
When Sebastian is fully asleep, he lays him down on his back on the tiny mattress that belonged to Inés before. He runs his palm over the fine hairs on his head for a few moments, just staring down at his baby to commit it to memory. He tucks the blanket around him, turns on the baby monitor, grabs the other, and flicks off the lights.
When he returns to the kitchen ten minutes later, he finds you sitting by the dining table with a sandwich of your own. Lucas holds a pencil in his hand, your grocery list lying in front of him and his empty plate has been pushed away.
“I hate broccoli,” Inés says from her own seat, nose scrunched up. The jelly part of her sandwich seems more around her mouth than in her belly. She tries to look over at what her older brother is writing but he is hesitant in his spelling of the word.
“I hate it because I can’t spell it,” Lucas grumbles with concentration on his face, “B-R-O…”
“C-C-O-L-I,” Javier finishes, announcing his presence to them. You look up at him as he stops between Lucas’ and your chair, setting down the baby monitor on the table.
“Hey, he’s supposed to learn how to spell it by himself,” you tut gently but without any anger or annoyance. Javier kisses your jelly-tasting lips. You tap the list, “Lettuce.”
Lucas groans in complaint, “Mooom, all these words are hard.”
Inés giggles from her seat, “Lucas is bad at spelling!”
Lucas furrows his brow, looking to you for saving, “No, I’m not!”
You send your daughter a look, knowing you have the right thing to say to bring some justice into the world, “I don’t know why you’re laughing, Inés Peña. You have to practice your counting skills with Daddy.”
Javier snorts at the look of disgust on his daughter’s face. She comically throws herself back into her chair, arms crossed over her chest. He kisses her hair, “No angry faces, Princesa (princess). You’ll have plenty of time to play afterward.”
“Maybe I am bad at spelling,” Lucas says in defeat, heaving a big sigh.
“You’re doing great, sweetie. It’s all about practice,” you reassure and reach out to rub the back of his neck affectionately, “And I really appreciate you helping me with the grocery list. It’s a big job.”
“How about an easier word?” Javier suggests, silently eyeing your sandwich as he speaks, “Like tomatoes.”
Lucas smiles down at the paper, brightening at the praise you offer as consolation for his struggles. He writes down the newly suggested word with newfound confidence, “T-O-M-A-T-O-E-S.”
“Perfect,” you continue your praise.
Finally, Javier pulls out a chair to sit down with his family. He chooses the seat next to you but opposite Inés to keep her in line if she decides to have a tantrum. However, she just watches her brother scribble down word after word.
“What about ice cream?” She asks suddenly with her best pleading expression. She is more hesitant than usual, knowing full well that she overstepped the rules a moment ago.
“If Lucas can spell it,” you challenge with a sweet smile, raising a brow at your son.
Inés grabs at the edge of the dining table, moving to stand on her knees instead of sitting. She leans over the table to get a closer look, “You can do it, Lucas!”
“Challenge accepted,” he says with a grin, nearly breaking the tip of the pencil in his eagerness, especially now that his sister is cheering for him, “I-C-E-C-R-E-A-M.”
Both of them look to you expectantly, awaiting your verdict that’ll make or break the oncoming weekend. You nod, “That’s indeed how you spell ice cream.”
The both of them cheer. You laugh along with them, and Javier feels his knees go weak even as he sits down. He leans back in his seat with his shoulders completely relaxed, briefly recalling a time when his body being this calm was only a possibility when alcohol was in his bloodstream.
“What’s next on the list, muchacho (young man)?” He asks as the laughter dies down once again, casually reaching out for half of your sandwich. He earns a look of mock outrage from you, your hand reaching out to swat his arm.
“Get your own, Peña,” you scold playfully. He pulls away quickly and bites down into the corner. You roll your eyes, “You’re insatiable, you know that?”
“And you love it,” he says around a mouthful of food.
“Mom, what’s ‘insatiable’ mean?” Inés asks curiously.
You look at him with a smirk as you reply, “It means Daddy always wants more.”
“More what? More food?” Inés furrows her brow in confusion.
“Something like that,” Javier says with his heart beating loudly in his chest at the mere thought of you. He leans closer to you, lowering his voice just enough, “And more of Mommy, too.”
“And I think that’s it for snack time!” You announce quickly after, heat in your cheeks as you push yourself to stand. Javier is pleased with himself as you walk around in a flustered state, “Lucas, do you have any homework?”
“I finished math homework in school,” he announces proudly, “Is the grocery list finished?”
“Can you add chicken too? Then I think we’re done,” you walk back to the table to gather the plates, not letting Javier put down his sandwich again. He feels triumphant at having caused you to feel like this, a sucker for watching your warm face.
“C-H-I-K—“ Lucas spells out loud.
“C-K,” you correct as you put the dirty plates into the dishwasher.
“Oh,” he turns the pencil around and erases his mistake, “C-H-I-C-K-E-N.”
“There you go, baby, good job,” you praise.
Lucas beams.
—
The rest of the afternoon passes quickly. Lucas goes to his room to play on his Game Boy, its faint beeps echoing through the house from the open door, Inés, after getting her face thoroughly wiped down, falls asleep on the couch after refusing an afternoon nap, and you and Javier begin the usual ritual of preparing for dinner while Sebastian sleeps undisturbed in his bed.
“You wanted to talk to me about the scan today?” Javier starts a conversation as he chops vegetables alongside you, your hip occasionally bumping into his as you mix a dressing.
“Yeah, and before you start to worry; yes, the babies are fine,” you reply and absentmindedly run your palm across your belly.
“But?” Javier puts the knife down to look at you.
“But nothing. I just wanted to tell you that they know what we’re having and they want us to discuss if we wanna know,” you smile excitedly. You mirror him by putting down the spoon and stepping closer to let him embrace you.
“They can tell already?” He asks as he places his hands on your hips, rubbing up and down soothingly. He pecks your lips, heart feeling too big for his chest.
You nod and lean into another kiss, “And they said everything looks great too. Nothing to worry about, and the due date is so far down the road that we can’t wonder about the delivery yet.”
“Alright, yes. Okay,” he nods in return, an overwhelmed smile on his lips. He releases a small sigh, “But do we want to know? We’ve tried both but I think it’s up to you.”
“I mean,” you think out loud while Javier takes the opportunity to rub your stomach, “I like surprises but with the stress the delivery will probably bring, it might be nice to know. Just to appreciate it more than when I’m a mess. I don’t know.”
“Well, I guess we don’t have to decide now. We have five or so months, have a think,” he reassures you and presses a soft kiss to your neck. He can feel and hear you draw in a deep breath.
You are interrupted by Sebastian’s soft noises through the baby monitor, tiny sounds of complaint indicating that he is just about to cry. Javier releases you from his grasp, “You get him and I’ll finish up here. Dinner in twenty, don’t you think?”
“Sure, baby,” you say with a final peck to his lips. You leave the kitchen, ascending the stairs with a little noise, and when Javier glances out into the entry hall, he sees you walk upstairs with a hand on the small of your back. Sebastian has started to cry but you reassure him all the way through the house, “I’m coming, mijo (my son).”
Javier finishes up dinner. He faintly hears you tell Lucas to go set the table, and when your son starts taking plates out of the drawer, Inés enters the kitchen while rubbing her eyes, awakened by the noise.
“Hola, mi niña cansada (hello, my tired girl),” Javier says as she leans into his side. He turns the pan on the hob so that the handle doesn’t stick out from over the edge, then runs his hand over his daughter’s hair.
“No estoy cansada, papá (I’m not tired, Daddy),” she protests while fighting a yawn.
“¿Entonces tienes hambre (Are you hungry then)?” He asks with a hidden, amused smile.
“Sí (yes),” she wraps her arms around his waist.
"Si tienes hambre, ayuda a tu hermano a poner la mesa (If you’re hungry, help your brother with setting the table),” he runs his hand over her back, caressing her gently while stirring the chicken and vegetables.
“Okay, papá,” she says, her stomach probably growling since she’s not protesting hard labor.
Lucas has finished carrying plates, glasses, and cutlery to the dining table. He pulls out a chair for Inés to stand on, directing her thoroughly on where everything goes until you enter the kitchen again with Sebastian on your hip.
“It looks so good!” You praise with a big grin, genuinely proud to see both of your eldest kids cooperating so well, “And the cutlery on the right sides!”
Javier turns back to have a look, holding a hand up to give them both a high five. You send him a smile only reserved for him, walking to put Sebastian into his high chair afterward. You go to the living room to find a few toys he can play with until dinner is ready.
“Can I watch Nanalan after dinner?” Inés asks during dinner, mouth full of food.
“If you practice your counting first,” you compromise.
Without hesitation, Inés starts saying numbers out loud, “One, two, three, four, five, six…”
“Inés,” you say, a crease on your forehead.
“You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Peña,” Javier teases, “But I think you walked right into that one.”
“Shush, you,” you tut and, out of spite, listen closely after any errors in your daughter’s count.
After dinner, you take on the job of clearing the table and filling up the dishwasher. Lucas gets a free pass from helping so he can go pop the Nanalan VHS tape into the TV, setting it up for you all to enjoy in just a moment.
Sebastian plays with a few toy cars as he sits in his high chair. He coos softly, making noises to match the tiny red vehicle.
Inés, still full of energy, practices counting backward with Javier while you wash up the pan in the sink. He can see you listening to them even with your back turned, knows that you are smiling without looking at your face.
“C’mon, baby. What comes after six?” He asks, having pulled her chair out to stand in front of her.
“Seven!” She answers confidently and it is technically not wrong.
He smiles with amusement, “We’re counting backward. Down from ten. Try again. Teeeen…”
“Ten… nine… eight…” she says loudly.
Javier waits patiently. He holds up the number of fingers equal to the numbers she is saying. She furrows her brows in concentration and continues, “Seven… six… five…”
“You’re doing so good, baby,” he encourages.
Inés grips the seat of her chair in excitement, “Three!”
“Are you sure?” He stops her briefly.
She looks up at him, hesitating for a moment and seeking reassurance, “Four.”
He nods, “You got this.”
She smiles brightly, “Three! Two! One!”
“Bien hecho, Princesa (well done, princess)!” He praises loudly and leans down over her to kiss the top of her head repeatedly, “Eres mi chica lista (you’re my clever girl).”
She stretches up her arms to which he responds by lifting her up from the chair with a groan. She is getting so big, he thinks as he places her on his hip, or maybe he is just getting old. He gets an idea, even if it’ll hurt the muscles in his back, “You know, baby, counting backward is very important. That’s what they do when they launch rockets into space. Try again, see what happens.”
Inés’ eyes light up as she starts counting again. She rushes through it, seeming to do well when something unknown comes afterward. When she gets to one, Javier lifts her high into the air and spins in the kitchen.
“Liftoff!” He announces, moving around in figure eights to imitate her flying and she squeals with laughter. The sound is one of those that bubble up in her chest, completely unrestrained and pure in its entirety, and Javier’s heart goes into overdrive when he knows that he is the one causing it. There’s nothing that can hurt him in these moments, nothing that can bring him down from the pride he takes in making his kids feel safe and happy.
“Oh no!” He continues his part, “Inés Peña, well-renowned astronaut, is attacked by aliens from el planeta rojo (the red planet)!”
“¡Papá, no (Daddy, no)!” She giggles and wiggles in his arms as he buries his nose in her cheek, “¡No permitas que me atrapen los alienígenas (Don’t let the aliens catch me)!”
“Too late!” He tells her before pretending to sink his teeth into her round cheek. He growls like only an alien attacker would and his daughter shrieks with laughter.
He stops to let her breathe, her little form shaking as she tries to regain her composure. She throws her arms around his neck, looking over at you in secret and lowering her voice to a whisper that’s way too loud.
“Do it to Mommy!” She demands.
You perk up at hearing your nickname and turn around with your hands covered in dish soap and water. You watch, like a deer in the headlights, as Javier places Inés down on her feet. He smirks like a devil and you step backwards but only bump into the kitchen counter. Your wet arms come up to screen your face as he approaches you, looking devilish with his arms out in front of him. He makes grabby hands in the air.
“You are not doing that to me!” You squeak. He leans into you, and the look behind your arms tells him that you know it is a fight that you have already lost. Still, you try to sidestep him but he just cages you with a quick sweep of his arms.
“I got you now. No hay manera de escapar, mi amor (there is no escaping, my love),” he moves your arms away without caring about getting wet himself and pulls you into a tight embrace. He bites into your cheek a mere moment later, growling like a dog whilst Inés laughs so loudly that your look says that you might let him give you five more children if he wants. The nibbles turn into several silly kisses, eventually turning into a long, deep kiss too. God, he is going to make love to you tonight.
Behind the two of you, Inés makes a noise of disgust, “Ew! Mushy Daddy!”
Javier pulls away from you and wipes his hands in his shirt. He ruffles Inés’ hair, “Well, you better run to your brother if you don’t want to see Mommy get another big kiss from Daddy.”
Inés dashes off towards the living room with uncontrollable giggles. Once she’s out of sight, Javier turns to see you drying your hands in a kitchen towel. He seeks you out and you meet his embrace by throwing your arms around his neck.
“Do you think I missed my calling as an alien invader?” He asks with his lips resting against your ear as you hug.
He can feel you shaking your head, “No, husband, I think you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
“Mhm, wife,” he pulls back to kiss you again, and again and again and again.
“They’re waiting in the living room,” you stop him, a hand on his chest to reluctantly push him away, “I’ll take Seb.”
The five of you watch a few episodes together in a pile on the couch. Sebastian sits in your lap while Inés cuddles up into Javier’s side. Lucas mutes his video game but chooses it over the children’s show, repeatedly pressing buttons and trying not to make too loud noises when he wins or loses.
It ends with the usual bedtime routines an hour later. Teeth are brushed, all three children have no complaints during bathtime, bedtime stories are told and forehead kisses are given even if Inés is already out cold. Javier loves this the most, at least when it goes smoothly.
Eventually, the evening leaves your pile on the couch to only consist of the two of you.
“We put Inés to bed thirty minutes ago and we’re still watching Nanalan,” you note from your side of the couch, looking at Javier out of the corner of your eye and snickering before you reach the end of your sentence.
Javier tears his eyes from the screen, his body slumped into the corner of the couch and with the blanket draped over his body. He hides a smile, knowing he has the upper hand in this situation, “Well, get the remote then.”
You have your legs pulled up with them crossed underneath you. You grimace and pat your stomach, “Never gonna happen with this belly.”
He cracks a smile, tone serious in a joking manner which he knows always gets you, “Well then you sit there and keep quiet. I’m missing my show. I haven’t seen if Mona learns a lesson yet.”
With that, he fixes his gaze on the TV again. You throw your head back to laugh at his silliness and accidentally snort. You squirm and he knows you’re trying your best not to pee a little from the giggling. You cover your mouth but Javier’s head still whips around to stare at you again, looking like he should be a cartoon character with hearts in their eyes.
He starts moving, crawls further toward you, and drags the blanket with him to cover both of your bodies. You shove at him, “Get the remote, Peña.”
“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” He scoffs, cuddling up next to you, halfway lying down and crossing his arms over his chest, “I’m not switching channels here. I like Nana. She’s wise.”
“She your favorite?” You smirk down at him, teasing him still.
“No, you’re my favorite, mi amor (my love),” he wiggles his brows, staring up at you with every intention of making you laugh, “Stop asking stupid questions.”
“Smooth,” you smile with a shake of your head. You purse your lips and he groans dramatically when he moves up to kiss you, pecking your mouth gently. You reach to ruffle his hair until it is untidy.
“You know, baby, my hair takes all night to style,” he sighs and starts to flatten the stray locks again, “You could be a little more considerate.”
“I’m pregnant,” you argue, “You try being considerate.”
“You’ve been pregnant for nearly two years straight,” his eyes wander back to Nana and Mona.
“And whose fault is that?” You start to watch too.
“Shut up.”
“I rest my case.”
The both of you watch Nanalan for a while. With a foot, Javier pulls the coffee table closer for you so you can stretch your legs and rest your feet on it. You seem less invested in whether Mona will learn how to take care of the baby bird in Nana’s garden than he is but it doesn’t matter because during the episode, your positions shift and suddenly you are resting against him instead. He feels like a teenager each time this happens, heart racing at having a pretty girl in close proximity, but unlike 16-year-old Javier Peña, he has already gotten the girl and is therefore without clammy hands.
He drapes his arm around your back until his hand rests on your waist, pulling your pregnant body against himself until you automatically lean your head on his shoulder. In the end, you doze off, having gotten into a habit of falling asleep in front of the television.
When the credits roll over the screen, he nudges you, “Let’s get you to bed.”
You whine so adorably and scoot further into his side, “I don’t want to go all the way upstairs.”
“If you don’t get up, I’ll do it again,” he says, intending to confuse you.
You pull back to look at him with furrowed brows, “Do what?”
Javier pokes the tip of his nose into your cheek and then imitates a series of bites to your face just like earlier. He makes the noise of a dinosaur this time, growling close to your ear and making you squeal from the tickling sensation it gives.
“No!” You shriek, “I’ll get up! I swear!”
“Are you sure?” Javier doesn’t stop, only nuzzles further into you and bites the flesh of your cheek for real this time. His whole body fills up with butterflies as you laugh at his torment.
When eventually showing you mercy, he throws the blanket to the side and pushes himself to stand up. You put your feet on the floor and take his hands when he holds them out for you. He hauls you to your feet.
After a quick shared shower, you moisturize your belly in the bedroom and pick out your sleepwear whilst he dresses in a new pair of briefs. It is a quiet and relaxing ritual where none of you speak a word, moving around each other in synchronous harmony.
It’s when you go to pee and change that he notices the little device on the nightstand, plugged in to charge, and he furrows his brow in confusion. The door is closed to the bathroom and he can hear the sound of your toothbrushing, so you won’t be barging in on him as he satisfies his curiosity.
With quick fingers, he pulls the cord out of the bottom and holds it closer to his face to examine the little pink thing. He hasn’t seen one of these before; staring down into the hole at the top and trying to make sense of what will happen when he presses the button.
The little thing whirs to life when he does and he can see the way the tip pulses erratically, sparking his interest and triggering the instinct to hold it against the palm of his hand. His brows nearly rise into his hair as he feels the way the vibrator suckles on his skin, so he taps his hand a few times to feel it let go and attach again. It’s when he realizes what it’s meant to do for you that he feels his cock move in his briefs. It happens again when he knows it means that you have used it today whilst being home alone.
He presses the button on the side again and feels the vibrations become more intense and he nearly throws the cute thing across the room when he tries to turn it off by pressing the button again and the buzzing only gets louder and louder and more and more intense.
“You two need a moment alone?” You ask from the doorway to the bathroom, smirking as he sheepishly finds your gaze. You have changed into a pair of way too tiny sleep shorts and one of his gray t-shirts, and it looks so naturally stunning on you that he nearly drops the toy. Why is he hard? Christ, he is possibly aching. He wants to throw you on the bed and pull those tiny shorts off and—
“Did you two already have a moment alone?” He asks when he has regained his composure.
“Maybe, and maybe it was pretty great,” you tease and make your way to him. When you stand in front of him on your side of the bed, your eyes wander downward until you stare at the bulge on the front of his briefs. Your tone is triumphant and sing-songy, “You’re hard.”
“You’re wearing my t-shirt,” he notes as if it’s the most logical explanation in the world. His gaze drops to the way the soft cotton fabric drapes over your tits, leaving just enough up to the imagination but clearly showing off the way your nipples have hardened at the conversation. He twirls the little sucking toy in his hands, wants to make you come with it attached to your nipple until he can see heat rising in your cheeks and then he’ll let the device do its job between your legs.
“Horndog,” you roll your eyes affectionately, “I can’t even wear clothes? I thought it would be not wearing any clothes that would get you.”
“Can I try this on you?” He decides to be straightforward and just asks while holding the vibrator up between the two of you, “You can guide me.”
“Now?” You raise a brow.
“Yes, now,” he huffs out a dark, little laugh and takes a step further toward you as if he is a predator caging his pretty prey. You don’t seem affected by it but your nipples might soon poke holes in your shirt, “I mean, I’m a little curious here, so if you’re up for it. I was gonna try to get laid anyway…”
“Charming,” you let yourself fall down into bed, sitting on the edge. Javier places the toy on the nightstand to grab underneath your knees, lifting your legs to help you scoot back onto the mattress.
“Is that a yes?” He awaits your green light.
“Yes. Don’t go overboard with it though. It’s pretty intense,” you reply and hook your fingers into the waistband of your shorts. You start to shimmy out of them and he helps you completely out of them when they sit around your knees. Then he bends your legs and spreads them apart.
“Tell me what to do,” he goes to grab the toy again, kneels between your legs, and awaits orders. He clicks the button and the little thing comes alive once again. You’re just about to reply when he cannot help but ask, “Does it work on your tits?”
“I thought you wanted me to guide you,” you retort but in response to his question, you reach for the hem of your t-shirt and start to pull it up over your pregnant body. He stops you when it sits just above your tits, coming closer to you by spreading his thighs until you drape your own thighs over them.
“Shut it… and listen to this. It’s pretty loud,” he notes as he feels the little sucker on his palm again, tapping the heel of his hand with it.
“It’s quieter when it’s in place,” you say with heat in your cheeks, anticipation evident on your face, “So don’t worry about switching up the intensity when I get close.”
“Ah… but no going overboard,” he nods, grinning down at you. Sure. He drags out the testing on his palm to get you worked up even more, knowing it will only increase the pulse in your whole body until you might cuss him out when he actually goes to work on you. He loves your body when it is pregnant and sensitive, and while he would never let anyone in on what the two of you do behind closed doors, there’s a part of him that wants to brag to Steve about how you cream yourself from getting your breasts played with whenever you have a baby - this time babies - in your belly or your body is raging with postpartum hormones. Oh, he thinks to himself, what a privilege it is to get to see you like he will in just a moment.
“Javi,” you complain beneath him.
“Yeah yeah, chica impaciente (impatient girl),” he tuts and finally places the toy against the skin of your cleavage. You suck in a breath, reacting already more intensely than he thought you would. He supposes that it’s due to knowing how it’s going to feel, and he elicits a little moan from you as he drags the head of the toy across your chest.
“Don’t tease me,” you grumble, squeezing your thighs around his waist. When he looks down between your legs, he can see the way it makes your cunt clench too. You’re trying to stimulate yourself untouched.
“Christ, you’re a dirty little girl for this thing. What magic does it do for you?” He raises his brows and inches the toy closer to your right breast. He dances around the swell and you bite your lower lip.
“You don’t understand,” you say breathlessly.
“Humor me,” he demands.
“It feels… like when your teeth nip at my skin,” you explain with eyes that are already glazed over with desire, “It feels like when your mouth is just about to get where I wa— Fuck.”
Javier has covered your right nipple with the toy and between your legs, a damp spot has marked the white sheets. He moves the head of the little sucker around your gorgeous, perky nipple and your moan only increases in volume.
“Shh, los niños están dormidos (the children are asleep),” he whispers above you, removing the toy to lean down over you and get closer to your face, “Keep your little mouth shut or I’ll need to stop.”
You look desperately at him, shake your head, and whimper at the threat. He pecks your lips with a pleased smirk before you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. It gets even harder for you when he descends on you, gathering spit in his mouth before letting it drip down onto your played-with nipple in an obscene manner.
“Waterproof, I’m guessing?” He awaits your answer.
“Mhm,” you nod and then writhe as he covers the peak of your breast again. You let your hand push down into the mattress, making a noise in the back of your throat as he presses the button to turn up the intensity. You fight between throwing your head back and keeping your eyes fixed on what he is doing to you.
“Eyes on me,” he decides for you.
“Baby,” you whine and follow through, thighs tightening around his waist as you stare at him. You start thrusting against nothing, lifting your pelvis to squeeze your pussy in time with the still somewhat slow pulses to your chest.
Javier straightens fully again and your gaze follows obediently. He lifts his left hand to his mouth, sticking two fingers past his lips to wet them with his spit, and then he finds your other nipple. He rubs in soft circles for just a moment before he pinches it between the two digits, tugging at it slightly until he sees slick drip from your aching slit. He cannot help the soft noise he lets out as he watches the drip of your come hit the bed. He is so hard it hurts from just thinking about being inside of you as you continue flexing your pelvis like that.
How the fuck are you going to come from just this? Has he really spent so much time in bed with you that this is something he can force out of you? He is struck by fascination at your trembling body, letting you breathe, even if it’s just barely, by swirling the toy around your nipple.
“More,” you pant in frustration, swallowing down a frustrated moan to not piss him off, “Turn it up.”
“Hey, that’s not how we ask for things in this family. What’s the magic word?” He teases, finger hovering over the button. He pinches your nipple with the fingers on his other hand, forcing a cry past your lips. You don’t even get to the please.
Instead, your hand flies to your mouth but you manage to calm your noises again, sliding your fingers into your hair instead. Javier decides then to press the button twice before putting it back on you, watching those fingers yank at your own follicles. You nod and your hips are practically gyrating by now.
“Javi, fu— fuck,” you gasp out, “I—“
“I know, baby. I can see it on you,” he says, making a noise low in his throat at the way your head falls back into the mattress. Your eyes roll back into your skull, your bottom lip getting caught between your teeth again as you teeter on the edge of your first orgasm. He cannot believe your clit is still untouched because when he dares look down, it peeks out from underneath its hood as if he’s been giving it attention.
“I’m gonna come,” you announce with a strained voice, still very aware of your noise levels. Quickly, you reach down to cover your mouth with the whole of your palm and then, with furrowed brows, you’re off into ecstasy. It hits you like a shot of adrenaline, your body going rigid before writhing on the sheets. The hand on your mouth turns your moans into desperate whines that stir Javier’s desire even more. His heart races at the sight, his eyes watching hungrily as you come undone the first time of many.
“Jesus Christ, Mamá,” he removes his hands and turns off the toy when you go from enjoying the tingling of pleasure to shaking at the oversensitivity of your breasts.
The hand falls from your satisfied smile to lay beside your head. You giggle as excitement is flowing through your veins, “Gimme a second and you can go again.”
“Is it better than me?” He smiles at your cute laughter and wiggles his brow.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you roll your eyes, “Not even close but it’s nice if you’re not available.”
“You know… I would come home during my break if you needed me,” he leaves the toy next to you so he can crawl over you and dip down for a long kiss.
“I’m sure you would,” you nod at his words, slipping your tongue past his lips.
He holds himself up with a forearm above you so he can use his free hand to push your shirt further up and over your head. You stretch your arms above your head to help him rid you of it completely, only breaking the kiss for the moment it takes.
“I’m ready for one more,” you say after a few minutes of just making out with him, arms slung around his neck in a desperate embrace and lips kissing him until they’re swollen. When he sits up on his knees again, he notices the way that his mustache has scratched you slightly and makes a mental note to trim it sometime tomorrow.
You look so radiant when you’re in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss, and while he gets his pillow to place it underneath your hips, he admires the beauty of you underneath him like this. You have your hair tousled, your eyes are half-lidded, barely open from the way remnants of pleasure still hasn’t been washed away from them, and your velvety skin glistens with a sheen of sweat that’ll make you shiver if he doesn’t heat you up again. Javier wants to lick it off, wants to eat you up until he has devoured you. You’re beyond softer and sexier than any other time he gets to witness you.
“Javi,” you murmur softly when he’s too slow.
“What, mi amor (my love)?” He pretends not to hear your demanding voice hidden beneath your tired one.
“I wanna do it again,” you have a playful glint in your eye.
“Again?” He teases but his cock pulses, heavy between his legs at the knowledge that he will see you come undone once more in just a moment. He chooses the word moment because the little sucker knows what it is doing and if you respond so well to getting your nipples played with, a part of him is afraid that it’ll be over the second it touches your clit.
“Javi,” you drag out his name in further frustration.
Javier rubs your thigh soothingly, “You’re obsessed with this thing. How long have you had it?”
“Uhh, not long,” you reply, visibly clenching at just hearing the toy start buzzing again. You scoot further towards him, presenting your pussy for him.
“So directly? Or?” He reaches down between your legs, the toy hovering over your mound for a moment before he decides to let it suckle on the skin of your inner thigh where he has just touched you. You breathe deeply in through your nose, wanting to look down at what he is doing but your pregnant belly is already shielding it from view.
“Yes but the lowest setting,” you instruct. Your hand dips down between your thighs to spread your lips, giving him access to your hard clit, “I’m still sensitive.”
“And wet, ¡Dios mío (my God)!” He marvels with suppressed excitement and moves the toy inwards, trailing its tip until it sits right by your hand. You sigh at the attention, dripping even more from your slit in anticipation.
Your hips hitch up when he finally covers your clit with the hole of the toy, a quiet moan slipping from your mouth as it falls open. Your face goes slack in contrast to the tension in your pelvis, your body subconsciously moving around to seek the most sensation.
He guides it steadily up and down, barely rocking it but still moving it enough to create just a bit of a tug on your swollen nub. He sees you lose yourself in it and stares down at you while cupping the bulge on the front of his briefs to relieve some of the desperate pain. He moans low in his throat, “Mi chica bonita (my beautiful girl).”
You respond with a little louder noise, an orgasm already creeping up on you. He shushes you gently, “No noise, baby. Try breathing through your nose or I’ll have to cover your mouth.”
You clamp your mouth shut and make a muffled sound.
“Look at that pussy flutter for me,” he looks between your legs then smiles up at you, pleased with what he is doing to you. He turns up the power on the toy. Your head falls back against the bed. He sees your brows knit together and then he knows, “Come on, baby, that’s it.”
Your orgasm hits you like a lightning bolt. Javier watches with his hand gripping firmly around the outline of his cock and the toy held firmly against your core. You do a fantastic job of making as little noise as possible but the desire to make a racket is there beneath the surface, especially when your high peaks and there’s a moment where you hold your breath just before shivering with the pleasure in your cunt.
He gives you another break but you shake your head. He looks curiously down at you, uncertain if you mean it, “No? Again?”
“Make it hurt, please, Javi,” you beg and he thinks he might come untouched from those words. It’s so rare to have you like this when the house is still full. He doesn’t doubt whether it is a good idea though, just turns up the heat and sends you hurtling towards another orgasm.
You gasp towards the ceiling and slam your legs closed while you grab at the sheets. You look like you are possessed, eyes rolling back into your skull as you come a third time. It must be painful because you are whimpering like a wounded animal, nearly ripping the fabric underneath you and begging silently by only mouthing the words in a worse manner than he has ever experienced as a father of three - soon five - children.
“Keep going,” you demand almost angrily, concentration on your face as he presses the button to the next level of pulses.
“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, “You’re about to levitate into the air, aren’t you?”
“I’m gonna come,” you inform him breathlessly.
“Already?” Javier’s brows are nearly in his hair. He is stroking himself on top of his underwear now, itching to feel something when you are lying in a pool of tears, sweat, and your come. Seeing you like this, he has no idea how he is ever going to get anything practical done this weekend; he’ll be doing you every chance he gets until you can’t walk. So hard that he’ll have an excuse to stay home with you on Monday just so he can spear you on his aching cock over and over. Even if you scream, even if you drool, and even if you sob.
When your fourth orgasm of the night starts to gain up on you, he observes the way your legs start to twitch. He holds the toy steady, pushing it against your clit as you nearly go cross-eyed with pleasure. His eyes are wide, the concentration lost for just a second too long when your legs start shaking as you near your end. The toy slips just half an inch, losing its grip on your clit and the accident turns you feral. You reach for his hand, yanking the toy out of his palm, and settle it back into place.
And then you come. So hard that he has no idea what to say or do, watching a steady trickle of pearly white mess gush out of you as your pussy jumps along with your heartbeat. You try so desperately to keep quiet but the sensation seems to be so intense that you might draw blood from your lip if you don’t get to cry.
“One loud one, no, no, look at me. One,” he tells you calmly, knowing you are probably seeing spots, “Let me hear.”
You don’t hesitate, face scrunched up in ecstasy while you let out a wreaking sob that’s so close to you screaming that he almost (but not really) regrets allowing you to be noisy. You pant, kick, and scream, tears running down your face as you are lost to the world, leaving him with nothing to do but stare hungrily as he thanks the heavens that you have found a toy that makes you look so happy and beautiful. He’d be its lead promoter if someone wanted him to.
When it becomes too much, you don’t even turn off the thing. You simply just let it fall from your hands and slump into the bed, your thighs sticky with sweat and slick against Javier’s own. He listens for the sound of tiny footsteps down the hallway for a moment but there’s nothing, not even a squeak from the baby monitor.
“Get inside of me,” you half-beg, half-order with barely any breath in your chest. Javier doesn’t hesitate to step off the bed, slipping his briefs off, and stepping out of them when they pool around his feet. Your eyes watch, huge and wet, filled with desperation for being stretched out after only having your clit played with. He will never dream of denying you when you look like that. You nearly hiccup, “Please.”
“Shh, you’ll get it, mi vida (my life), you’ll get whatever you want,” he soothes softly but then continues the rough streak. He curls his hands around the back of your knees and yanks you off the pillow towards the edge of the bed, sliding your body through the mess you have created.
You are like a siren with the eyes you are sending him, making his cock stand in the air and at level with your empty cunt. He grabs at the base of his length, guiding the thick head through your folds for a few seconds to slick himself up. However, the need to be inside of you, to pound into you, is too much and he pushes into you not long after.
The feeling of filling you up has Javier’s heart pounding against his ribs, endorphins running through his system as his mind quiets down completely when he has you like this. Your warm and familiar walls engulf his touch-starved cock and the both of you breathe shakily in relief as you melt together. You even manage a mix between a breathless laugh and a quiet moan, a sound that makes him twitch inside of you as he regains his composure. When he starts fucking you, dragging you by your legs down onto his cock over and over again, he realizes that he doesn’t even need to be careful, your walls so wet and soft from how much you’ve been touched.
He repeatedly snaps his hips forward to cause an obscene smacking noise that bounces off the walls. You nod frantically at the way he moves inside of you, nose scrunching up with concentration on the sensation of his dick slamming into your front wall. Yet it seems as if you’ve become nearly impossible to please from coming so many times; your hands are placed on top of his, frustration evident on your face, “Harder.”
“Nena (baby girl),” he pants whilst fucking you, “I’m already going hard.”
“I need it harder,” you whine, writhing slightly, “Please.”
“What’s gotten into you tonight?” He asks playfully and earns a glare that you only seem to perfect when you are pregnant and not getting your way. He smooths his palms up and down your sweaty thighs, thrusts coming to a complete halt, “Crawl back.”
He pulls out his cock with a grunt, letting you gaze hungrily at it when you’ve seen it glistening with your wetness. He is the one getting impatient now, snapping his fingers to keep up the part he is playing for you, his role as the man in charge even if it’s hardly true, “Go on then. Back.”
You move with shaky limbs, your body exhausted from its continuous stimulus. You end up lying flat on your back with your legs wide open for him, holding out your arms with a tiny dissatisfied complaint of a whimper, “Javi.”
Javier finally kneels on the bed and moves forward until he is hovering above you. He grabs the still buzzing toy on the bed and reaches for your hand. He places the toy in your palm and closes your fingers around it, knowing what he wants, “I just need you to promise me that you’ll choke my dick when I fuck you with this joining the fun.”
You nod repeatedly and that’s good enough for him to go crazy for you, even wreck the bed if that’s what you want to do. Thank God that there’s no school tomorrow because you’d be hobbling around with how sore he is going to make - and has already made - you. He leans down and cages you underneath him, buries his face in your neck as he bottoms out inside you in one hard thrust. His pelvis touches yours, his chest, your sensitive tits, his body unable to get close enough.
When he rocks his hips this time, he starts really putting his back into it. You slide your free hand up his bicep to cling to his shoulder, saving yourself from being pushed across the mattress with how forcefully he drives his cock into your heat.
He breathes hard as he exhausts his body to give you what you need, knowing that you can take it even if it aches. He can feel drops of sweat slide down the length of his spine, gathering at the small of his back as he switches to harsh rolls of his hips.
The switch gives you room. He doesn’t have to actively listen for the muffling of the sucking toy’s buzz to know that you have started to hold it against your clit because your whole cunt jumps at the attention.
You press your mouth into his bare shoulder to muffle your screams, bravely taking on another round of obscene pleasure as his lower belly burns with the desire to come.
His head swims with the overtaxing use of his muscles, the strain on his thighs that has started to ache from how much he wants to make your head spin. He feels a tear fall from your eye and drop down on his skin, your whimpering voice trying to encourage him not to stop the torture of your cunt.
“Fuck,” he gasps as the sensations are becoming increasingly more intense. He turns his head to breathe heavily against your ear, breathing damp against the shell of it when he tries to speak while his lungs empty as small puffs of air. He wants to tell you how good it feels, and concentrates on whispering filthy things in your ear, “That’s it, you can— oh God, you can take it, baby.”
You sound like you’re trying to overcome your own body, fluctuating between whines and groans. He goes on, “No wonder you’re always carrying my babies. You take it so fucking well each time, amor (love). Made for it. Made for getting knocked up.”
You lock your legs around his ankles, clinging to him as he crashes into you repeatedly. He hears you desperately move the sucking toy back and forth, hears the intensity being turned up to a higher level than he has even dared. You sound pornographic even in your quietness - like one of those videos where they don’t want to get caught but just cannot keep all noise at bay - as you get fucked by him whilst it sends you through the gates of pleasure heaven simultaneously.
“Please,” you whisper.
“And if you weren’t made for it, I’d be sure to mold that little pussy into shape,” he growls quietly. You start to have that dazed look in your eye, have a grip around his cock that tells him exactly what is going to happen, “Oh, baby. You gonna come on my cock, huh?”
“Yeah,” you squeak.
“Yeah?” He mocks.
Javier enters the final sprint, fucking you open in a frantic rush that almost borders on being gross, greedy and animalistic. You mewl pathetically from the intensity, biting into his skin as he makes you come with pleasure slamming through your body roughly enough to make you start crying.
To soothe you, he pulls back his head to kiss you longingly even if it becomes nothing more than a messy crash of your mouths together. He does it to quieten down himself too, finding that his stomach is tightening and his balls are drawing up from being so close. You’ve tightened around him too because whereas you should remove the sucker from your clit, once again, you don’t, and the questionable choice has your walls clamping down on him in overstimulation, squeezing his dick so heavenly that his hips stutter. He comes inside of you when the smaller fit has him seeing stars, groaning into your mouth as he pulses into you.
The buzz of the toy becomes louder again but only because it slips from your hand, your body trembling with overwhelming excitement as you come down from your millionth orgasm in a fairly short period of time. You sob without being sad, curling in on yourself as soon as he pulls out of the dripping mess between your legs. He is on you instantaneously, pushing your hair out of your face, turning off the toy, and cooing gently.
“Oh, Nena (baby girl), you’re okay,” he tuts while you cry quietly, several teardrops rolling down your nose as your body tries to escape itself. He kisses your shoulder, blows a raspberry on it, “You did so good for me. You’re okay. We just went a little overboard.”
Javier rolls off of you but instead of following the instinct to rest his exhausted body by lying down, he sits up in your shared bed. He scoots close to you until he can coax you to drag yourself into his lap with a feeble whimper, wrapping his arms around you and rocking you back and forth like a newborn. He supposes you must feel rebirthed. You sob into his chest, cheek pressed into where his heart hammers, and still overwhelmed with the painful pleasure that you have just experienced.
“Shh,” he whispers with his lips pressed to the crown of your head. He kisses your hair, rubbing soothing circles into your sweaty back until your cries turn into tiny hiccups instead, “It’s alright. You’re alright.”
The way you cling to him tells him that you feel safe with him. He dares lift your chin, looking into your puffy, red eyes and rubbing a tear-streak away from your face. His voice is raspy from sex, “Are you okay, baby?”
“I’m okay,” you croak with a tired and tiny smile, shivering as the sweat starts to cool down. He holds you a little tighter. You relax in his arms even despite getting a bit of control back, “Scatterbrained.”
“Lo sé (I know),” he huffs out a chuckle with another kiss to your head. He cups your jaw and dips down for a kiss on the lips too, thumb rubbing affectionately along your cheekbone, “Pero eres tan hermosa (but you’re so pretty).”
“Thank you,” you cover his hand on your face with your own, “I’m ready to conk out.”
“Shower?” He asks and suggests at the same time.
“I won’t be able to stand upright for that long,” you run your hand over your forehead instead, laughing quietly.
“Alright, bath it is then,” he gently runs his fingers through your hair, “Ready?”
“You’re going to carry me?” You ask with a raised brow as he starts moving towards the edge of the bed with you, “I weigh a ton with this pregnant belly.”
“I do lifts with our daughter on the daily, you know,” he jokes, “Best workout method in years. Even if she talks a lot.”
You yelp with a laugh as he picks you up effortlessly and carries you through the bathroom, crossing the tiled floor with you in his arms bridal style, and sets you carefully on the edge of the bathtub. As he turns on the tap and lets the tub fill, he imagines the cool porcelain is nice against your sore thighs and cunt.
After testing the water, he gently helps you into the tub with a comfortable silence between you. The content look on your face is a reward in itself, even moreso the sigh that you let out as the water envelops you and turns your tired muscles to putty.
Javier washes your hair, leaning your head back and scooping water into his hand to rinse out the shampoo. He runs his fingers across your back and shoulders too, relieving some of the tension he has caused tonight.
“What about dinner tomorrow?” You ask out of the blue and he nearly wants to laugh because, of course, you’re already back to being a mother.
He puts conditioner in your hair, “I was just inside of you.”
“And that means that I can’t start planning your kids’ best lives?” You tease.
He rolls his eyes affectionately, “Fine. I think we should just do something easy.”
“Actually,” you say. Here we go, he thinks. You turn your head to look up at him, “The kids have been talking about a picnic in the backyard, and Lucas really wants to try out the new tent we bought.”
“Mhm,” he hums, not protesting. It does sound fun.
“And I checked the weather forecast earlier,” you add then clarify, “It won’t rain.”
“Baby,” he says with an affectionate smile as he rinses out the conditioner too, “You need to shut down that brain of yours. You do plenty enough to keep us happy.”
“It does shut down sometimes,” you reassure him with a little smile, rubbing your nose in a manner that he always finds adorable. You lean back to simply soak in the warm water, belly just poking out above the surface, “When you touch me.”
Javier lays a hand on your stomach, caressing you in slow circles. He feels playful when he knows you’re getting back into your normal self again, “Guess I’ll just have to keep touching you then.”
“I guess so,” you reply simply, eyes closed and a lazy smile on your face. Jesus Christ, he loves you and everything you have given him.
“I’ll let you sit here for a few more minutes, really let you cook,” he tells you, bending down to kiss your hair. He pushes himself to stand, “I’m gonna go plug your new friend in all over. I think we drained the battery.”
“Don’t pass out,” you say in a sing-song voice, “Love you.”
“Te amo tanto, mi amor (I love you so much, my love),” he replies and leaves you alone with a hand on your belly. He hears you talk to his unborn children, and it’s almost sad that the time it takes for him to wash the toy gently in the sink, plug it in, and head back to you isn’t long.
Finally, with his help, you finish the bath. He helps you to the seat of the toilet, hands you a towel, and drains water from the tub.
“I had the same old question today,” he small-talks while you are on the toilet to dry yourself. He steps over the edge of the newly-drained tub to stand in it, pulling the shower head off the wall to wash himself down from the remnants of what you have just done in bed. He’ll hurry up to finish before you so you don’t start changing the sheets in your pregnant condition.
“Yeah?” You decide against what you are doing and go, albeit shakily, to find a flannel. You soak it in lukewarm water and instantly sigh as you place it between your legs.
“Lucas wants that damn dog so badly,” he continues as he washes himself, “I told him it was a bad idea. He got pretty upset.”
“Is it? A bad idea, I mean?” You wash the flannel clean after using it and wring out the excess water before hanging it on the side of the laundry basket.
“I said yes but I also said it was you who had the final say in it. I’m not carrying a litter,” he huffs a small laugh and steps out onto the bath mat. He dries himself, “Two babies, a toddler, and a puppy seems like pushing it, baby, no matter how well-behaved.”
“I had a dog growing up. It was pretty great and made me feel less alone,” you muse. You turn around to lean against the bathroom counter to steady yourself, watching him with a smile in your naked state, “We could find one in a shelter. A grown one.”
God, you are pretty. He hangs up his towel and draws nearer, stopping only when he has you caged between the sink and himself. He leans in for a kiss and you cup his face whilst he talks, “You’re so good.”
“We could surprise him for his birthday. I don’t like those puppies spending time in those cages during August. It’s too hot. They should be running in the grass,” you scratch his cheeks with your nails, pouting slightly.
He kisses the pout off your face and puts a hand on your protruding belly, “You’ll look so beautiful during August.”
“This isn’t about me,” you note with a grin and pat his hand, “Focus on your son for a second.”
“We’ll never be able to top that birthday present,” he says with his eyes glazed over by love, “Just saying.”
“But he’ll remember it for the rest of his life,” you argue.
“Guess we’ll have to browse the local places then,” he gives in, sliding his hand around your waist.
“You’re a great dad,” you return the caress by laying your palm on his bare chest. His pulse is high when you look at him like that, saying those things.
“Don’t or I’ll have you right here again,” he threatens playfully.
Despite your previous state, you respond cockily by turning around so your ass is level with his dick. You lean forward slightly but only to grab your toothbrush for the second time tonight and disappoint him.
“Anything else happen today?” You ask as if nothing has happened whilst putting toothpaste on your brush. It matches his. You look at him through the mirror and he takes a moment to think, collecting his thoughts instead of getting hard again.
“Oh, right, uh,” he gives up and takes a step to the side, reaching for his own toothbrush. You hand over the tube of toothpaste to him. He puts it back in its holder when he is done using it, “Well, there’s a new kid in Inés’ class. I ran into her mom or rather… Inés ran into her.”
You raise a brow in the mirror.
“Anyway, she was real friendly,” he recalls the moment earlier and speaks around his toothbrush, “They’re new in town and she wanted someone to show her around. She actually invited us for coffee.”
You turn to him now, having stopped brushing your teeth. It looks like you are trying not to laugh at him, “Javi…”
“Yeah?” He turns to meet your gaze and furrows his brow. Oblivious.
“I’m sure she was super excited to invite you and your wife for coffee,” you chuckle, and a bit of toothpaste dribbles down your chin. You reach to wipe it off, “You’re so stupid.”
“Hey,” he clicks his tongue at you.
“Did you give her your number?” You ask casually.
“No… I told her that I would find her contact info on the class sheet,” he tells you and you laugh for real this time.
“Ever the romantic,” you snicker, “Oh, you broke her heart with that.”
“Fuck, do you think she was trying to come onto me?” Javier realizes the true meaning behind the interaction.
“Well, duh,” you start to brush your teeth again but cannot help giggling throughout the rest of cleaning them, “I bet she was batting her lashes at you.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. I thought she was just being friendly,” he continues his own brushing.
This happens more and more often. You are so deeply ingrained in his mind that his time as a casanova is so far behind him that he sometimes cannot pick up on these things anymore. He wants to say that it’s a conscious choice to be oblivious but it honestly is not. There’s just no one else but you.
“So are you gonna call her? Is it serious?” You taunt him after rinsing your toothbrushes together.
“You’re in for a smack to your ass if you continue,” Javier rolls his eyes in an attempt to hide the color of embarrassment in his cheeks. He hurries to go change the sheets before you start doing it.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you blink at him as you pass him to get your clothes from the bed before he has crumpled them up into the dirty sheets.
He smiles and gets dressed with you afterward, standing on each of your respective sides of the bed without saying much.
In bed, you kiss and say your ‘I love yous’. He falls asleep after a few minutes of listening to your slowed breathing. Just like he has done thousands of times before. It never gets old.
.
.
.
FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️
#pedro pascal characters#javier pena smut#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fluff#javier pena imagine#javier pena fic#javier pena narcos#javi p#javi peña#javi pena#javier peña#javier pena one shot#javier pena x you#javier pena x reader#javi p x reader#javier pena x y/n#javi pena x reader#javi pena x you#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#my writing#husband!javi#narcos fanfiction#narcos
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jeon jungkook fics that own my mind, body, heart, and soul
in other words, this is a collection of my favorite jk fics on tumblr! if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, pls remember to support the authors by interacting with their post.
➺ bitchin - by @kinktae
summary: the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook.
➺ idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk
summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.
➺ hotter than hell - by @chateautae
summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
➺ jump then fall (into you) - by @writtenwhalien
summary: bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?
➺ too late to dream - by @kookslastbutton
summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.
➺ the forgotten spaces- by @oddinary4bts
summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?
➺ when the end comes - by @oddinary4bts
summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook? **sequel to the forgotten spaces
➺ falling - by @starshapedkookie
summary: soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm.
➺ love alive - by @jamaisjoons
summary: a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party.
➺ changes in between - by @taegularities
summary: Becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change you’ve ever gotten thrown into - but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.
➺ falling skies - by @fortunexkookie
summary: Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. You used to be friends, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.
Despite the teasing and fighting, Jiyeon realized how Jungkook felt about you long before he did - it was a twin thing - and if you were her sun, and he was her moon, then she just wished she could show you how he reflected your light.
➺ sugarplum elegy - by @bymoonchild
summary: You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.
➺ an abundance of mondays - by @diortae
summary: "why the fuck would it be easy? you’re disgustingly in love with your best friend. of course it’s complicated.” he pauses to roll his eyes, as if he hasn’t just laid out the most secret parts of you here in the middle of the campus dining hall.
➺ five dates - by @kpopfanfictrash
summary: “Ten dates,” he nods, smile tugging at his lips. “Ten dates, to decide if you want this – want me – or want me to go. Ten dates to get to know me. Ten dates,” he says, oddly soft, “to fall in love with me.” Which then becomes five.
➺ here comes the bride, all dressed in pride - by @hansolmates
summary: You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend
➺ if i told you - by @gukyi
summary: in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.
#bts fic rec#fic recs#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts x oc#bts angst#bts smut#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#taehyung angst#taehyung smut#jimin angst#jimin smut#yoongi angst#yoongi smut#bts fan fiction#fic rec list#namjoon angst#namjoon smut#hoseok angst#hoseok smut#seokjin angst#seokjin smut#bts masterlist#jungkook x reader#taehyung x reader#seokjin x reader#hoseok x reader#namjoon x reader
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The Lost Keychain
(Max Verstappen x f!reader)
When Max loses a key chain gifted to him by his girlfriend, the world realises that a race track isn't the only thing he dominates in.
or
When Max's girlfriend shocks the world about how she has 2 different personalities.
WARNINGS: NOT PROOFREAD, JUST SOMETHING QUICK, A BIT SUGGESTIVE. no actual smut but description of a spicy position in a photo and a suggestive quote engraved on key chain.
Masterlist
Everyone knows how much Max hates media days and reporters invading his privacy, he hates talking about his personal life, especially his girlfriend.
When they first started dating Max tried to keep her away from the media as much as possible, and no one blamed him seeing how sweet, kind and lovely she is, nowadays some of his fans even save her from reporters during race weekends, everyone loved her and they all followed Max's footsteps into protecting the sweet, shy girl.
So maybe this was his fault, actually scratch that, it is definitely his fault, he shouldn't have lost such a precious gift. He feels like everyone is watching his every move much more than usual ever since the incidence at the redbull garage got out, but what can he do, after all a gift like that shouldn't have even been outside of his hotel room.
"Guys, who lost their keychain?"
A redbull mechanic screamed over the noise as he waves the found item around, jiggling sounds from what appears to be multiple house keys and two gate keys gradually drawing the attention of the entire redbull garage.
"Why would anyone even bring their house keys to the garage?" an intern dismissed "none of us have a house in this country man."
Shrugging, the mechanic decided to keep it with him until it's owner realises, and until then he decided to just examine it, maybe there'd be a clue of who it belongs to.
The chocking sound alerted some fellow mechanics, making them get closer to the one who was now red faced with wide eyes looking at the lost keychain.
"Damn," a mechanic said as he took the keychain "that's one lucky motherfucker"
Other mechanics make their way over to the commotion, a crowd forming to see why such an item is taking so much attention.
It was a silver keychain, that much was seen by all the mechanics from afar, what wasn't seen from afar however was what had all of them coughing awkwardly, some even blushing.
On one side of the diamond shaped chain you can see the words 'welcum home. Dinner is ready.' Now, you would think that the pun is just weirdly placed and doesn't match with the sweet message, but the message was intended to be anything but sweet. Turning the chain to its other face, you would see another engravement. A picture. A woman who appeared to be resting on a flat surface supporting her weight on one elbow so that she can lift her torso up, with her legs wide open, palm covering her and a bike helmet on her head. But it wasn't a bike helmet, it was a helmet with an outline that's eerily similar to the design of Max Verstappen's 2021 helmet.
"Holy shit."
"Do you think-"
"Hey, has anyone seen a silver diamond shaped keychain?" The familiar voice of their three times world champion cut through their talking, making them all look like they were 5 year old children with their hand in a cookie jar way past their bedtime. And Max noticed.
Walking closer to the mechanics Max's cheeks got redder and redder with each step, coughing and smiling awkwardly.
"So," clearing his throat in a failed attempt to make things not so tense "that's mine, give it back."
Trembling hands dropped the silver item into Max's awaiting palm before he clenched it around the treasured chain, turning and taking his leave.
"What did you guys do to Max? His face and ears are all red." GP's voice cut through the awkward atmosphere, no one knowing what to say or do.
Noticing the environment and reading the room, GP laughed as he looked at the rest of his colleges. "Did he lose the keychain again?"
#max verstappen fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen oneshot#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen x yn#max verstappen x you
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New Neighbors and Interrupted Streams (LN4)
Summary: Desperate for new friends, maybe it's time to revert to the tried and true neighborly American cookie exchange.
A/N: I know Lando lives in Monaco but in this he is still in the UK. Also I really love fics that have something to do with Lando streaming and being teased the entire time.
This was stupid. This was probably so stupid. But she had to do something.
Two weeks she had been in her new apartment, in a new country. In that time, she had gotten increasingly lonelier, seemingly unable to make friends.
She had moved to the UK for work but with another month till she actually began her new job, she didn’t know how to make friends in her free time.
God, why was it so hard to make friends as an adult?
So, after a call with her mom expressing her issues with making friends, she was reminded of a good-old US custom.
Baking cookies for your neighbor.
Usually, this was reserved for pre-existing residents to introduce themselves to the new folks moving in, but after all this time she didn’t expect her neighbors to reach out, so it seemed she had to do it herself.
After that phone call, she tried it twice with some of her neighbors. The first time, she left them at the door with a note introducing herself to them, saying she hoped they could meet up sometime. She found the cookies still in the box, with the opened note on her doorstep later that day.
The second time, she got so excited when she saw from down the hall that her neighbor had grabbed them, swiftly moving inside his own flat with the cookies while reading the note. But a week later and no sign of any desire from the neighbor to connect with her, she gave up.
She had one last person she could try with, the ridiculously cute boy who lived in the apartment across from her. She hadn’t actually talked to him, just spied on him a few times from her peephole when she heard him leaving his flat. Creepy, she knew, but she was far too shy to say anything.
But she was so desperate, and she could tell he was around her age… she thinks. After sitting at her table for an hour staring at the home baked goods, she finally grabbed them and knocked on his door before she could chicken out.
Lando was streaming with Max next to him, when he got a notification that someone was by his door. Thinking it was the takeaway he ordered, he swiftly excused himself to go grab it. What he didn’t expect was the pretty girl who had just moved across from him to be at the door.
There was a beat of silence as they both stared at each other. In all honesty, she was just going to knock, wait a few seconds, then leave the cookies. She hadn't expected him to answer the door so she was unsure what to say.
Finally he spoke up.
“Sorry, are we being too loud? We can totally quiet down if you need to.” He said while awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.
She still didn’t reply, too stunned by seeing him for the first time not through a small and dirty peephole. God, he was beautiful.
Seconds of silence went by until she finally managed to get everything she wanted out.
“No, no I am so sorry. You are completely fine, that's not why I am here. I just didn’t think you'd actually answer the door. Anyway, I know this is probably strange and I don’t think they actually do this here but I just wanted to introduce myself to my neighbors, so I made cookies! Again this is probably so weird of me so it's totally fine if you don’t want them or something, the other neighbors clearly didn’t but that's okay. Anyway- Hi, I live across from you and now I am here with cookies!” She managed to get out in one breath while sticking the cookies out for him to grab.
This time, Lando took a few seconds to reply, trying to process what she said.
“You’re American.” Was all he managed to get out.
She didn’t know what to reply, it wasn’t a question but felt like he needed reinforcement about that statement.
“I am.”
“I didn’t realize they actually did this, thought it was a movie thing.”
“Uh- I am sorry?”
“No. no! It's sweet, thank you for them. I really appreciate it… sorry what's your name? I’m Lando by the way”
How she managed to not actually say her name while she spent a full minute rambling about how she wanted to introduce herself was beyond her, but after quickly introducing herself, properly this time, she finally felt the tension and awkwardness leave her body.
He took the cookies from her, promising that he was excited to eat them even though he knew his trainer wouldn’t be too happy, and took this opportunity to get her phone number. Promising to text her, he closed the door and immediately looked out his peephole, wanting to get one more look at her. He was surprised, and amused, to see she did a little celebratory dance in the hallway, before taking a breath and entering her own apartment, excited she had just made a new potential friend.
“What took you so long, Mate? And why are you so red? And why do you have cookies? Where is the food we ordered?” Max asked when Lando entered the room again, a stupid grin adorning his face.
“It wasn’t our delivery, the new neighbor just stopped by to introduce herself.”
“The cute one you kept going on about?” Max teased, earning a kick to the shin as that wasn’t information Lando wanted everyone watching the stream to know.
“Anyway- she brought cookies as a little hello. It's sweet. I've never gotten cookies made for me before.”
“She brought cookies? The hell would she do that for?”
“Like I said, to introduce herself. She’s american.”
Before Max could ask anymore questions, specifically about why Lando was smiling so much and why he was beet-red, which Max already knew the answer to, their actual takeaway came, saving Lando for the time being.
When he came back and they started eating, Lando wasn’t interrogated on the topic, at least not until he began giggling on his phone.
“Mate, what are you- Oh my god guys he is giggling and texting his new neighbor. Chat, this is unbelievable.” Max yelled as he stole Lando’s phone from his hand. Reading the messages with disgust, he added, “God, you need to work on your flirting, you sound like an absolute muppet right now.”
Lando quickly took his phone back and tried to change the topic. Throughout the rest of the stream, he tried his best to not look at the new messages she had sent in order to not be teased, as the chat seemed to still be mentioning every time he would secretly text her, trying to be stealthy as to not let Max find out.
He just hoped this whole thing stayed on the stream, and that it wouldn’t come to the press, who loved to question him on his relationships. The last thing he needed was to be asked this during media after a race.
He wouldn’t be so lucky, he soon would find out after the next race.
#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando x reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic
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