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#waking up on monday night and seeing them in my bed and cuddling me was just so nice i felt wanted i felt... loved

ddejavvu · 11 months

Note

A little request 🥰 Injured rugbyJames! He gets roughed up at a game you couldn’t go to and he tries to keep it covered up cause he knows how you worry- you don’t realise until he gets into bed that night with a shirt on… he never wears a shirt to bed, you interrogate him and figure out what’s going on, worrying when you see the bruises

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

For once, James is glad you hadn't been at his games. He'd initially been bummed, because he always wants to see you in the stands, but tonight had taken a rather unfortunate turn, and you're better off not knowing. You're sleeping blissfully under the blankets after a double shift at work, and he manages to get himself ready for bed without waking you.

But when he crawls beneath the covers you realize the bed is dipping, and you force your eyes open to greet him.

"Jamie?" You coo, voice thick with sleep. He can't help but smile, wrapping his arms around you when you roll over into his embrace.

"Hi, love," He croons, kissing the crown of your head as you bury your face in his chest, "How was work?"

"It was-" You start, but your face hits fabric instead of skin and you frown. Even in your sleepy haze, you're too smart for him.

"Jamie," You tug at the hem of his shirt, "What's this for?"

"Hm?" He plays dumb, "Oh, the shirt? That's- um, it was cold in the bathroom. So I just slipped it on."

"Take it off," You whine, "Wanna cuddle you."

"Okay," James sits up clumsily, trying to keep his chest sheltered from your suspicious view. He rips the garment off over his head, chucking it aimlessly onto the floor near the closet.

"Jamie!" You scold, "Don't leave it on the floor! Go get that."

James groans, frustrated more that he can't get away with it than he is with your cleanliness, "Right. Just don't turn on the-" A soft click is his only warning before the room is bathed in the soft, warm glow of your bedside lamp, and James's back stiffens where it's turned to you.

"What is- James!" You gush, now wide awake as you scramble to sit up in bed, "James, are you hurt? Oh my god, those are- those are bruises! James, you're hurt, let me-"

You stumble onto the floor, bedsheet tangled around your legs, and you're luck to escape its clutches before it sends you to the floor. James turns to reassure you but forgets that there's another purplish patch on his chest, only fueling your horror.

"It's okay!" He rushes to console you, cupping your cheeks that are stretched over your gaping mouth. You're looking at the bruises like they're fatal wounds, and he redirects your gaze to his own with a sweet smile.

"Love, I'm alright," He promises, "I know it looks bad, but s'not, I promise. They hurt a little bit, but that's all. Jus' got a bit banged up." He keeps his tone light and airy, but it does little to quell the surge of nerves rising in your chest.

"James," You whimper, worry plaguing your sweet voice, "What happened? Wh- did you get hit by a truck? These look awful," You lament, brushing your fingers over James's torso.

"No, darling, it wasn't a truck," He laughs, keeping you grounded with his hands on your cheeks even if you're distracted by his injuries, "I got to ice them on the field. And they barely hurt now, I'll put some more ice on them tomorrow. I promise I'm alright, I just didn't want you to freak out. Okay?"

He ducks his head down so that his nose bumps your own, and you're forced to look at his face. You can't resist his shiny, pretty eyes, even if you're still worried about the state of his bruises.

"Alright," You stammer, nodding along as he ushers you back to bed, "Alright, Jamie. Should- should I sleep on the couch? What if I accidentally hurt you," You linger by the bedside, but he pulls you down with him so that you're draped over the part of his chest that isn't bruised.

You frantically try protesting, worried about a stray elbow or an accidental kick, but he locks you in place with one of his large arms, kissing your forehead.

"I want you here," He hums, throwing the blankets over your back and trapping himself beneath them as well. He pretends to think, scratching his nails down your back under the covers, "Y'know, I bet if you kiss them, they'll heal faster."

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imdoingsortagay · 9 months

Text

In my morning glory

Summary: Waking up in Wanda's bed after an especially good night out in the city

a/n: Morning glory by Kehlani is so Milf!Wanda to me so here is this

word count : 700 words

It wasn't in the plan for you to stay over at Wanda's house for the night.

You respected your girlfriend's decision for that as she had to wait for her ex-husband to drop off the kids the next day. thought she was happy when he promised to drop them off on Monday afternoon instead of Sunday morning.

Was Wanda a bit nervous to let you stay over after a bit too much to drink from the two of you?

Yes

Was she also a bit excited nonetheless?

Yes

Now here the both of you were, at the entrance of her house a bit drunk. Wanda is more drunk than you are to calm her worries about this happening while you lovingly grab her waist.

“ need me to help you find your house keys, Wanda ?”

“ No,” Wanda mumbles,” m an intelligent girl, you stay there and be pretty “.

“ well I can be pretty and help you, baby,” you tell her and start to leave kisses all over her neck—a little motivation to get her to find her house keys quickly.

“Honey stop being a tease,” she grumbled a bit,” let me find my keys I told you to be there and be pretty for me”.

“Well, what if I wanna help my mommy out by incentivizing her to find them quicker ?”.

Right as you called her that name, wanda could not have found those keys quicker, opening the door quickly as she drags the both of you up to her room for some fun time.

“ How about you be pretty for mommy in another way honey?” Wanda tells you before she starts to undress you.

7 hours later

Wanda wakes up in her bed, having a massive headache from the night before and regretting even drinking one drink at the bar with you but she smiles a bit seeing you peacefully sleeping.

All she remembers as she sits in bed is going to the bar, getting home, and waking up. The redhead is a bit surprised when she sees you peacefully sleeping to the right of her.

Oh right, she forgot that you stayed over.

“ fuck fuck fuck,” she mumbles as she worries about how to get out of bed.

It had been a while since she'd slept with someone, having only done it once before marrying Vision and once right after they had divorced when Natasha had come over to comfort a broken-hearted Wanda from the tragic event in her life at the time.

Natasha had been very used to sharing a bed with the other redhead as she had done it back in the compound when the young woman had come back after the battle of sokovia.

Vision had been kind of an ass when it came to Wanda sleeping over so it took her a while to work up the courage to do this.

‘Just stay calm right now wanda, y/n is fast asleep ‘ She thinks to herself.

It felt nice to have someone in her bed, forgetting the warmth of another person next to her during mornings like this. Wanda tries to calm her mind a bit more but the moment that she moves to see your sleeping body, all of her worries go away and she can’t help feeling all giddy inside.

“ I can’t believe that I got lucky and met you,” she says to you as she runs her hands over your face, happy to have met someone who can treat her like a goddess and makes her more confident in herself.

“ Wanda,” you mumble,” what time is it ?”

“ 9 in the morning honey,” she tells you,” why ?”

“ I’m gonna sleep some more after last night,” you pause,” can you come cuddle with me, if you can ? please?”

Wanda’s heart skips a beat at hearing your morning voice, feeling herself get a bit soaked but ignoring that feeling as she scoops you into her arms, not wasting one second to give you all the cuddles in the world.

“ You never have to ask to cuddle me honey bug,” she says as she leaves a kiss on your forehead,” I’m always here for that you know that”.

“ you know you're the best girlfriend right ?” you tell her and don’t fail to catch her blushing a bit at your compliment.

“ I know “.

Wanda had nothing to worry about, she had you in her arms sleeping peacefully, and grateful to have you in her life.

#lizs writing #wandavision imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #milf!wanda #wanda maximoff fluff

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wheresarizona · 11 months

Text

Learning to Live Part 19

summary: It’s Monday morning, and you’re watching Javier get ready for work (and interrupting him). Will you be able to keep your hands off him once the suit is on?

rating: E (18+!! This is literally just domestic fluff and smut. No y/n, age gap (about 10 years), Soft Javier Peña, Javier Peña in a suit, oral sex (m receiving), titty fucking, anal play (m receiving), deepthroating, comeplay, spitting, dirty talk, praise kink (there’s a good boy), domestic fluff, argument, anxiety, so much banter, Javier teaches you how to tie his tie, you choose what he wears)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 9.5k+

a/n: Hello there! Here’s the deal, this was supposed to be the beginning of a very important chapter, but I wrote too much, so now, this is part 1 of 2. I’m already pretty deep in writing part 2. Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul, for betaing.

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

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The snooze button was essential when you shared a bed with Javier Peña.

The alarm would go off, and suddenly you would find yourself being wrapped up in long arms, sometimes with his naked body pressed to yours from behind, or face to face, his mouth zeroing in on yours to languidly kiss you until you were rudely interrupted by the incessant beeping once more, and it really was time to get up.

You savored those nine sleepy minutes where it was just the two of you tangled together in the warm cocoon of your shared bed, cuddling close as you slowly awoke—they were the best.

It was a Monday morning, and so early, the sky outside was still dark, waking up at your usual time during the week with Javi. You’d already taken your turn in the bathroom and thrown on one of his plain white t-shirts over your naked body, now sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the direction of the dressers and closet, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom door in your line of sight.

You were vibrating with excitement, straightening in your seat when the door finally opened, and your naked boyfriend walked into the room—his face was still a little puffy from sleep, the brown hair a mess atop his head, his chest, and up his gorgeous neck littered with hickies, new and old, one you sucked right over his pulse point the night before that was starting to purple. He yawned, stretching his arms over his head, stopping in his tracks when his attention landed on your still form.

His hand scratched his soft belly with a confused expression, his voice deeper and huskier from disuse, asking, “What’s going on?”

Usually when he came out of the bathroom, you were in the process of getting dressed, and he’d join you, but today was special.

“I took the day off,” you answered immediately.

“Why…?”

His hands moved to perch on his hips, stepping one foot forward to have all his weight on the back leg, your attention shifting to his knee on display, finding yourself thinking it was appealing to the eye and somehow sexy. That thought had you taken aback for a second, wondering how in the world knees could be sexy. You’ve never given them attention before, and suddenly they were turning you on like a Victorian man catching a glimpse of ankle.

What was wrong with you?

The answer was simple: you had it bad for this man—you were so truly, madly, deeply in love with him you were thirsting over his joints.

“I didn’t want to miss the show…” you answered distractedly.

“What show?”

You met his gaze, smiling as you pointed at him. “The one you’re gonna put on getting dressed for your first day of work. It’s like the opposite of stripping but gets me just as horny, so I don’t want to miss anything.” You winked.

He smirked, his eyes shining in delight. “You took the day off to watch me get dressed, baby?”

“Um, of course, babe. This is momentous—I’m seeing you in a suit for the first time.”

Chuckling, he walked over to where you were sitting, his hands sinking into the mattress on either side of you as he bent down, his breath minty as he kissed your lips, his smooth jaw cradled in your palms.

“I fucking love you,” he said when you broke apart, meeting your eyes with a smile.

“I fucking love you, too,” you replied with a matching look.

He leaned in to nuzzle his nose against yours.

“You’re cute.”

“I try.” You pecked his lips. “Now, hurry up—” You said, rubbing your hands up his naked ribs, his skin warm beneath your palms. “You’re gonna be late.”

He glanced over at the alarm clock on the bedside table, his eyebrows knitting together.

“I don’t have to be there for another hour and forty-five minutes…” he said slowly.

“Yeah, but you gotta get dressed, do your hair, have breakfast, drink your coffee, get your dick sucked…”

His head quickly swiveled back toward you. “Get my dick sucked?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, his tongue peeking out as it swiped over his bottom lip.

Crookedly smiling with your own eyebrow raised, you answered, “Javi, you honestly think I’m gonna let you leave this room without sucking your dick?”

“Right…now…?” He looked hopeful.

“Nope—I’ve been fantasizing about doing it while you’re all dressed up.” You wagged your eyebrows.

“Fuck,” he breathed, noticing his cock was already half-hard.

“I’m very excited. Now hurry!”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, quickly kissing you before he stood up with a groan, making his way over to his dresser and opening the top drawer.

“I see suits are an undies occasion,” you said, watching him put on white boxer briefs.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling them over his ass, the stretchy material hugging his thighs. He turned so you could see his front, the noticeable bulge making your mouth water. He snorted, smirking as he said, “My eyes are up here, Cielito.”

Your gazes met, him pointing at his beautiful chocolate-colored eyes.

“Yeah, they are, but I’m ogling your dick before you put on pants. Just look at it, ” you marveled, extending your finger at his groin. “It’s so big. You know what underwear does to me.”

His tone was amused, his chest puffing up a little, “I know, baby.”

He grabbed his bottle of cologne atop his dresser that was near his watch, his spare pair of aviators, and the small burl wood jewelry box with rose inlays decorating the lid where his mother’s rosary was stored.

“Damn, you’re going all out,” you said, him spraying some on his pulse points, chest, and neck. “You are going to be the sexiest and best-smelling man in that office.”

“Yeah?” he asked, the cap getting put on the glass container and set back down.

“Oh, yeah,” you answered. “Don’t know if I’ll be able to visit you at work.”

“Why’s that?”

“You in a suit? An office with a door? A desk? That is a recipe for me getting bent over said desk and dicked down.”

“You fucking exhibitionist.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Hey!” you exclaimed. “Pot calling the kettle. I’d never had sex in public before you—you’re a fucking exhibitionist, too! And don’t act like your dick didn’t just get harder at what I said. I can see it!”

His cheeks had pinked up, clearing his throat. “It’s all I’m gonna fucking think about while I’m there.”

“Good,” you sniffed.

“You, uh, wanna come by on my lunch?”

“Javier, we are not fucking in your new office, at your new job, on literally your first day.” He frowned, his shoulders slumping. “—it’s something we wait until we have a lay of the land, you know?” He perked back up. “Figure out when there’s the least amount of people there, and you can make sure the door has a lock. We gotta prep, and then I’ll stop by for an office quickie.”

“I love you so fucking much,” he said.

“I love you, too.” You grinned. “I used to be so innocent, only knowing the touch of a man on a bed or couch, and now you’ve turned me into some kind of sex fiend who wants it everywhere.”

He huffed out an amused breath, smiling. “Baby, you gave me a hand job in my truck on our first date—you’ve never been fucking innocent.”

“Um, because it was you,” you said, pointing at him again. “The only man on earth I’d risk jail for.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and you know it. Hurry, and get ready. Your dick is taunting me.”

He looked down at it. “‘Cause it’s hard?”

“Yes, and not in my mouth.”

His eyes met yours. “Okay, mi amor (my love), I’ll finish getting dressed,” he said, moving to walk over to the closet that was directly across the room from you. You saw the defined muscles in his back and the broadness of his shoulders contrasting with his tiny waist, and the dimensions kind of reminded you of a…

“Dorito!” you said out loud.

He slid the closet door open, looking over his shoulder as he asked, “What?”

“Your shoulder-to-waist ratio is ridiculous—it’s a triangle.” Your hand was held out, drawing it in the air with your finger. “You’re Dorito-shaped.”

A furrow appeared between his eyebrows.

“What…?”

“The chip? A Dorito? The cheesy triangles, you’re shaped like one of them.”

“Is that good…?”

“Yes.” You smiled. “It’s very good—it’s very sexy. I love how you look so much, like my god, your back makes me wet.”

His eyebrow arched.

“Just my back?”

“You got me there—all of you makes me wet.”

“That’s better.” His attention went back to the clothes. “Which one do you want me to wear?” he asked, hearing the squeak of him moving hangers on the rod.

“I get to pick?”

“Of course—you’ve been fantasizing about it. Which one?”

Arousal was simmering in your belly that he was willing to play out your fantasy.

“Navy blue.”

The squeaking got louder as the hangers were moved forcefully before he pulled out a garment bag and a white dress shirt from his ridiculous collection of button-ups hanging in the closet.

He walked back over to where you were sitting, setting them on the bed beside you. Your eyes were on him, watching in fascination as he went over to his dresser to use his stick of antiperspirant deodorant sitting on top of it, returning to put on the dress shirt, noting it was a little tight on him in the shoulders and arms when he finished deftly buttoning it up. Javi’s mouth was turned down in a frown, and his eyebrows creased while unzipping the bag and pulling out the folded pants hanging over the hanger. The slacks were also a little tight on him when he pulled them on, the material stretching over his ass and around his thighs, his half-hard dick not helping, tucking in his shirt before getting them zipped and buttoned.

“Babe…?”

He looked at you. “Yes, Cielito?”

“You’re in great shape. Were you less muscly in Colombia?”

Thinking back on the pictures of him and Steve you’ve seen, he had been slimmer but still very broad.

He let out a long sigh, pressing his fingers to his forehead. “You can tell I’ve gained weight.”

“Well, based on the fact you went from an office job to doing manual labor for a year and a half, it’s safe to say you’ve bulked up in the muscle department, though I’ll take the blame for that ass.” You grinned.

His hand dropped. “What do you mean?”

“Have you noticed your jeans have maybe gotten tighter than usual since we started dating?”

He thought about it for a second. “...yeah?”

“I’ve been feeding you well.”

“You’re the reason my ass is big?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Your ass is perfect, thank you very much, and I do help you get your cardio in so you look fucking fantastic.”

He smirked. “Yeah, you help with my cardio, alright.” He leaned down, one hand on the bed next to you for support as he pressed his lips to yours, the other palming your breast through his shirt. He smelled so good, his spicy cologne hitting you hard, getting hints of citrus and a nice musk.

“Javi–” you giggled into his mouth, him not seeming to care since he kept kissing you. He nipped at your lip, and your breath hitched, stifling your moan—your fingers pushed into his messy hair, seeming to forget everything except his mouth on yours.

It slowed to a stop, and he pulled back, you chasing his lips which made him smile.

“I have to finish getting ready,” he said just above a whisper.

You remembered now what you both were doing, ignoring the arousal pooling in your belly.

“Yes, so I can suck your dick,” you replied.

“Yes,” he chuckled, standing up and holding out his hand to you. “Come with me.” You took it, letting him pull you up, him holding your hand as he guided you over to his dresser. He opened the black rectangular wooden tie box that had twelve compartments, pulling out his rolled-up belt, moving out of your way as he said, “Pick out my tie, mi amor (my love).” He was working the black leather through the belt loops around his waist.

Your eyes took in the selection. There were ten of various patterns and color schemes, chewing on your lip while gazing at them, thinking which one would look best, and settling on a red one. You plucked it from the case, unrolling it to see it was a deep red with ovals on it that reminded you of drawn blood cells.

“This one,” you answered, turning to face him and holding it out.

He’d finished getting his belt on, taking the offered tie with a warm smile.

“You wanna tie it?”

Your eyes widened. “I mean, I have an idea of how to do it, but I’d probably do a terrible job.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Come here, and I’ll teach you.”

“Okay,” you said, stepping forward to have your bodies a hair’s breadth apart.

His voice went lower, raspier, his gaze on you as he draped it around his neck, saying, “Eyes on my hands.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied, seeing his throat work as he swallowed. You were looking where he indicated, his big hands holding each side of the silk.

Clearing his throat, he said in a deep timbre, “You want the wide side—” He raised his left hand showing it to you. “—longer than the narrow side.” He lifted his right, then adjusted them how he instructed, his eyes staying on you, your own watching what he was doing. “Cross the wide one over and around to behind the narrow one—” His hands were doing the steps as he told you what to do. “—then over and through the neck hole, wrapping it across the front of the other and up under the neck, where you push it through the loop here at the front.” He pulled the wide part through the loop, one hand delicately holding the knot, the other on the tie as he wiggled it, pulling on the length to tighten it where he wanted. “It’s easy. You wanna try?”

You looked at him. “And ruin this gorgeous handiwork?” you asked, running your finger down the silk. “I can do it tomorrow.”

“Or you can do it right now because I want you to.”

Your eyebrows lifted up to your hairline. “Wow, you put on a suit, and suddenly you’re Mr. Bossy Pants.”

He smirked. “I am wearing my bossy pants—now, please tie my tie, mi amor (my love).” He was already undoing what he’d done until the fabric rested on either side of his chest.

“Fine, Jefe (Boss),” you replied, taking the buttery soft material into each of your hands. A look of concentration was on your face as you recalled the steps, quickly adjusting it so the wider side was longer than the other, then doing as he told you, surprised when you’d actually made a pretty okay-looking knot. “There—” you said. “It’s not as pretty as yours, but it’s also not as awful as I thought it’d be—you can tighten it.” Your hands patted over his pecs, finally meeting his gaze, his eyes crinkled at the edges, looking beyond happy.

“It’s perfect.”

Snorting, you replied, “You haven’t even looked at it.”

His head tilted down as he lifted the loosened tie to see it. Dropping it, he said, “It’s still perfect.” His eyes were on yours as he gingerly held your knot, wiggling it as he pulled on the length to tighten it, his hands moving up to ensure his collar was in place. “How do I look?”

You crookedly smiled, keeping your gaze on his. “Perfect.”

He pinched your hip, making you giggle. “Smartass, you haven’t looked.”

You took him in then—the messy hair, his perfectly trimmed mustache, the rest of his face clean-shaven, the white dress shirt wrinkling a little over his chest from being a tad tight, the blood-red tie down his front, and the navy blue pants hugging his hips, and it all combined had your skin suddenly feeling hot, your dream from the other night coming back to you of him as a detective.

He looked good, really good.

You met his eyes. “I am so sorry, but I have to.” He had a confused expression, your hand gripping the tie and tugging his head closer, Javi grunting as you crashed your mouth to his. You felt his smile as you kissed him, his arms hugging you into his body, moaning when his tongue pushed between your lips to tangle with your own.

God, you loved him—you loved this, spending your morning with your boyfriend, watching him get ready, and interrupting the process with kisses. Add in him having you pick out his outfit and teaching you how to tie his tie, and you were a fucking goner. Somehow, you’d fallen even more in love with him, wishing he had something more than just you tying his tie to have you with him through his day, your brain picturing a ring on his left hand, the image igniting a fire in your belly.

Your lungs began to protest, the kissing slowing until he gave you one last peck, panting as he pulled back to look at you with a smile.

“So, I look good…?” he asked through heavy breaths.

You playfully slapped his chest, laughing. “Yes, you look really fucking good, and I can’t wait to blow you.”

He released you from his arms, nodding. “I better hurry then.”

“Please do.” You stepped out of his way, your attention on him as he pushed up his left sleeve, grabbing his silver watch from atop the dresser, sliding it over his hand and onto his wrist, finally clasping it into place. He checked the time before pushing the sleeve back down, him looking in the tie box and pulling out one cufflink he put on with practiced ease, followed by the other.

Anticipation was swelling inside you at how close you were to seeing him fully dressed.

He turned toward you. “I have to do my hair,” he said. He had a bad case of bedhead, it sticking up in all directions.

“Sounds good,” you replied, following him as he headed for the bathroom.

The suit pants were snug on his ass, and you couldn’t keep yourself from giving it a hard smack, Javi jumping.

“Really?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Really.” You grinned, walking into the smaller room, him flipping on the lights.

“You know paybacks a bitch, right?” he asked, standing in front of the sink and using his right hand to pull open his drawer to grab his wide-tooth comb and jar of pomade that he set on the countertop.

You took up the space on his left side, resting your hip against the counter. “Worth it,” you replied as you watched him.

Within the first few days of dating Javi, you quickly learned he was very particular in how he styled his hair—his comb and pomade found a home in your bathroom a day after his toothbrush did, so he always looked his best when he left your apartment.

That was a thing about him—he cared a lot about his looks, what he wore, his hair, his mustache. You’d think with how much he fussed over himself, he’d be annoyed with you messing up his hair or rumpling his clothes, but it never bothered him because it was you doing it. He happily walked around with hair you tried to fix with your fingers and wore the hickies you left on his neck with pride, wanting people to know he was taken, Javi always taking your hand or wrapping an arm around you when you were out in public so there was no doubt you were together.

He turned on the sink, using his hands to slide water into his hair to make it damp. Then it was time for the pomade, him unscrewing the cap and scooping some of the white substance onto his index finger, strategically getting the lid screwed back on sans the one digit. There was a serious expression on his face as he rubbed his hands together, coating them in the cream.

Javier wasn’t sure how to feel about wearing a suit again; there wasn’t any nervousness or excitement. Honestly, he was just indifferent—here he goes, working in law enforcement again. Except, the silver lining was he wouldn’t be doing any of the actual enforcement. When he’d gone to the county Sheriff to negotiate the job, he’d been adamant about not seeing any action; he was done with that bullshit, and now that he was in a serious relationship, he couldn’t afford to put his life in danger.

Frankly, he didn’t think it was worth it.

Not anymore.

There was someone waiting for him at home, and she meant more to him than anything else on the entire fucking planet. So, he would be working safe and sound in an office consulting, the parameters of which he’d figure out once he got there.

Generally, he was methodical in putting on his suit. Having done it so many times, he went through the process with hardly any thought. As attaché in Colombia, the time he spent dressing was time he’d ruminate on what was going on and go over his schedule for the day, his hands moving on autopilot through the practiced movements of buttoning his shirt or tying his tie while his mind was elsewhere.

But this morning, there was enjoyment in putting it on, loving how Cielito chose his outfit and tied his tie, his process interrupted with kisses and lovely conversation—Javier was having the best time, and wished all of their mornings were like this.

“This is my favorite part,” she said, his fingers plunging into his hair, it rising as he worked them through the brown strands, massaging the pomade in like he would shampoo.

His head turned to look at her while he kept going, a smile appearing on his lips.

She was so beautiful in just his white t-shirt, bright-eyed and smiling, her arms crossed over her chest, which accentuated her breasts, drawing his gaze to them.

“When I put on the pomade?” he asked, meeting her eyes again.

“Yes—how you make it all messy.”

She’d cut it perfectly the day before, the sides short and longer on top, Javier pushing the hair back from his forehead, feeling it damp and slightly sticky.

He snorted. “You just love when my hair looks like shit.” His attention moved to picking up the comb.

“Yeah, I do, ‘cause you’re really fucking sexy when you have post-sex hair.” She stroked her fingers through it, and it made him shiver. “It’s surprising your hair is never greasy,” she said, turning on the sink to wash her hand off.

He was using the comb to slick it back, staring at himself in the mirror as he replied, “The shit I use is water-based and washes out easily—it also keeps my hair soft. I fucking hate the greasy, oily ones.”

And he’d been complimented many times about the softness of his hair, so he’s stuck with the same kind since college.

“Noted.” She was drying off with the small towel hanging on the wall next to her.

His hair was slicked back, and he used the end of the comb to make his side part, pushing it through the hair on the left of his head where his cowlick was and brushing down the side.

“You cut my hair so fucking well,” he mused, combing the length on top to the right until he was satisfied, setting the comb back on the countertop to slide his fingers into his hair and add texture, using them to break up the brown strands.

He could see her grinning in the mirror. “You really like it?” she asked.

Javier would never go to a barber again; that’s how much he loved what she’d done. It was the best haircut experience he’d ever had, enjoying watching the woman he loved in the mirror as she worked with that crinkle between her brows he found adorable. He wasn’t even surprised he lost the bet of not grabbing her ass. He was weak—he was so fucking weak for her, and it took a lot of strength to go as long as he did without touching her; his fingers had itched to reach out and feel her body.

It soothed him, feeling her—her warmth, her softness. There was a constant stream of thoughts in his brain, and a lot of them were worries over things he had nothing to worry about:

Does she love me? Does she still want to be with me? Did I fuck up? Am I going to fuck up? Will I be a terrible father? Will my kids hate me? Will she leave me when she finds out about Colombia?

He swallowed thickly, his arm going around her middle to pull her into his side, her hugging his torso. “I love it, mi amor (my love),” he answered, kissing her crown.

His body relaxed, calmness washing over him.

She does love me. She still wants to be with me. I didn’t fuck up. I can’t know if I’ll fuck up. She believes I’ll be a good father, and I’ll do my fucking best. My kids won’t hate me because I’ll love them so fucking much. She won’t leave me when I tell her about South America.

“Well, I love you,” she said, the reassurance making his heart sing. Her head was turned so he could see her face in the reflection, smiling at him. “And I’m happy you like your hair—it looks very sexy.”

“Thanks.” He smirked. “My new hairdresser is good at her job.”

“Is she?”

“Yeah. She even cuts it in her underwear and lets me grab her ass.” He reached down to squeeze her backside.

Giggling, she replied, “That just makes you sound like a creep.” He frowned deeply, and she quickly added, “I loved you grabbing my ass, ya filthy ass grabber.”

He smiled again, chuckling. All this talk about her ass had him thinking about it and the payback for her smacking his. He leaned forward to wash his hands, her detaching from him to take up the space beside him once more. His arms reached in front of her after turning off the faucet to dry his hands on the towel next to her, an idea coming to him as he straightened, eyeing her variety of skincare products on the counter on his other side.

Focusing on his reflection, he fiddled with his hair to perfect it, asking nonchalantly, “Will you put sunscreen on my face, baby?”

“Of course, babe,” she replied happily.

Leaning forward and across the sink, she stretched past him to grab the lotion, his shirt she was wearing rising up her back to expose her bare ass like he hoped—his large palm came down on her asscheek in a loud slap that sounded in the room, his hand stinging, her shouting— “Javier!” He was smoothing it over while she angrily grabbed the sunscreen and stood back up, glaring at him.

She was cute, making him chuckle, turning his head to look at her. “You can’t be mad at me,” he said. “You said it was worth it.”

“Yeah, I did, but you’re still an asshole.”

“An asshole who loves you… and your ass.” He growled the last word, grabbing a handful of it.

She rolled her eyes, snorting at his antics, and he knew she wasn’t mad at him.

“Keep your head like that,” she ordered, flipping the cap on the sunscreen, squeezing a small amount onto her finger, and dabbing it onto the tip of his nose, doing the process over and over until he had white spots on each cheek, his chin, neck, forehead, and nose.

She did this almost every morning, and he always loved it.

“This is my favorite part,” he said, closing his eyes and smiling softly.

The lotion was closed and set aside, her hands moving to gently rub it into his skin, and he felt himself melt under her touch, turning him into putty.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“I love your hands on me—it feels so fucking good.”

“You’re incredibly adorable. I’m just happy you wear it.”

She was making sure to get all his face, neck, and ears, his spine tingling when she massaged his earlobes between her fingers.

“‘Cause you told me to.”

“I sure the fuck did. You gotta protect this gorgeous face.”

Suddenly lips were pressed to his, and automatically his arm was wrapping around her to pull her closer, kissing her back.

They separated after a moment, Javier feeling so happy.

“I’m almost done,” he said, looking at her.

“You are,” she replied. “If I wasn’t here, you’d already be finished and eating breakfast.”

“I prefer you being here. Breakfast can wait.” He’d skip the meal if it meant spending more time with her.

“How are we doing on time?”

He stepped back, flicking his wrist up and pulling back his sleeve, his eyes squinting as he read the watch face. “Still have an hour and fifteen before I need to be there.”

“Okay,” she said while washing her hands in the sink. “That’s enough time to get you off, and send you on your way with coffee and a granola bar.” She dried them, turning back to face him.

He calculated in his brain how long it’d take him to get to work and the amount of time they had to work with, figuring they both could get off—he really wanted to make her come for such a wonderful morning, and he could do it quickly with his mouth or fingers.

“I’d rather skip the coffee and granola bar and eat your pussy for breakfast,” he replied.

Her breath stuttered, seeing her pupils dilate.

“As lovely as that’d be, pussy isn’t on the menu this morning—today is about you.” She poked him in the arm.

He didn’t want it to be all about him, thinking of something better she’d enjoy more.

His eyebrow rose. “If it’s about me, then shouldn’t I get to decide? I say forget the oral. I’ll finish getting dressed and bend you over the bed so we can both get off, and you’ll get to live your Detective Peña dream.”

She swallowed hard, knowing the thought of it turned her on. He was determined that she enjoyed herself, too.

“That’s really sexy of you to offer, but the plan was to suck your dick—I want to suck your dick.”

It bothered him that she was only focusing on him and not considering what he wanted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, I want to make you come.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” She shook her head. “I want to choke on your dick.”

“You can choke on my dick, but we should both get off,” he argued.

“That’s unnecessary. I’m getting you off.” Ending the sentence with a jab of her finger to his chest.

“You can get me off, and I can take care of you after—you know I can get you there quickly.”

She made a frustrated sound. “I don’t want you to take care of me. I want to take care of you.”

“Just let me eat your fucking pussy after.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know what’s going on right now, Javier, but when you put on a suit, you’re kind of a stubborn dick.” He jolted, his mouth falling open, realizing he was being difficult.

She’d told him all morning about how she was looking forward to sucking him off in the suit, and it had just occurred to him that this was one of those times where she wanted to make him come without getting anything in return—she wanted to be in control. And here he was, being, as she said, a stubborn dick fighting her on it when in reality, her plan would still have them both winning.

Her hand caressed his cheek, speaking softly, “I need you to come back to me, Javi. You were down with the blow job earlier, and now you’re arguing with me, which is so unlike you. Are you just not in the mood? If you really don’t want one, I’ll drop it and make you a nice breakfast instead—all I want is to pamper you.”

“Shit,” he whispered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Cielito.” Meeting her eyes. “Of course, I’m in the mood. I don’t know why the fuck I was fighting you on it.” His hands rubbed up and down her arms. “You can blow me. I know you’re really fucking excited about it.”

Frowning, she replied, “I’m only excited if it’s something you’ll be into…”

Javier felt terrible that she was feeling doubtful.

He smiled softly— “Cielito, baby, you gotta know I love when you suck my dick. You give the best fucking blow jobs—it’s something I’m definitely into, and I’d be an idiot to turn one down.” He let out a long sigh. “I just got caught up in wanting to make you feel good, too.”

“I promise, this is one of those times where pleasuring you really does it for me.”

His hands cradled her cheeks, smirking. “Yeah? Turns you on choking on my cock? You want it down your throat, Cielito?”

“God, yes,” she breathed, his cock hardening in his pants.

“You want me to fuck your mouth?” His thumb smoothed over her bottom lip. “Make you gag on it?”

A mischievous smile appeared on her face. “As good as that sounds, I have something better planned,” she purred.

That had him curious.

His eyebrow lifted. “You gonna tell me?”

“Nope,” she replied, sucking his thumb into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it, his lips parting at how it had arousal simmering in his gut.

“You’re gonna be a bad girl and keep secrets from me, baby?” he rasped.

She let go of his digit with a wet pop. “I’m going to be very bad, Papí.” His eyes closed as he groaned, smashing his lips to hers in a searing kiss. His hands grabbed onto the globes of her ass, his tongue filthily licking into her mouth, walking her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, wanting her mouth on him as soon as possible.

The backs of your legs hit the bed, his mouth leaving yours to push you to sit on the edge seeing the hard outline of his cock in his dress pants, it stretching up and to the right with his underwear on. He was moving quickly to the garment bag beside you, pulling out the matching navy blue jacket and shrugging it on.

Walking back over, he stood a few steps in front of you so you could see him in all of his suited glory—his face was neutral, his hair dry and perfectly styled, the length on top swooping to the side, his jacket open and a little snug in the shoulders, the crisp white shirt beneath it with the dark red tie on display. He was in a stance, his left hand over his belly, his weight to the right, that hand at his side, seeing it flex with nerves, his hard-on still perfectly visible and trying to break free from the tight confines of his pants.

It was glorious.

Your mouth had fallen open, understanding now why there was a slight change in his demeanor when he put it on—he looked powerful, confident, and had an air to him that he wasn’t someone you wanted to fuck with and definitely didn’t take no for an answer; he got what he wanted. He was giving off major head bitch in charge vibes, and honestly, you were really into it.

A knowing smile crept up on his lips as you stared. “What do you think, mi amor (my love)?” he purred.

“That I’d never be able to work with you because I’d constantly be begging for your dick.”

“Yeah? You gonna beg me to put it in your mouth?” he asked.

His question went straight to your pussy, having to rub your thighs together to ease the ache.

“Maybe.” This look needed to be immortalized, telling him– “Don’t move.” Standing up, you padded some steps over to your dresser to get the Polaroid camera off of it, making your way over to the bed once more and sitting back down.

“Need a picture of me, baby?”

“Oh, yeah.” You said, bringing the camera up to your face, making sure you were getting a full body shot. “This is prime spank bank material.”

“Need a picture of what you do to me?” he asked, the hand on his belly lowering to grab his hard cock through his pants, his hand so big palming it.

“Javi!” you gasped, a smirk on his handsome face as you hit the shutter button, the flash going off, and the camera whirring while spitting out the picture. You were throbbing with need, pulling the photo out and shaking it, setting it next to you on the bed, along with the camera, unable to stay away from him any longer, the teasing too much.

Jumping up to your feet, three strides and your bodies were close, skating your hands up his abdomen under the jacket to his chest, his own gripping your hips.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” you purred, his burning gaze locked on yours, needing to feel more of him—roaming your palms over his back and lower to grab his ass.

“Yeah?” he rasped. “Is it everything you dreamed?”

“It’s better,” you answered, reaching down to palm his dick, stroking him over his slacks, your hand not taking up nearly as much real estate as his did. “Fuck, I love you,” you said, grabbing his tie in your free hand and pulling him in for a heated kiss, his tongue pushing into your mouth to slide along yours.

There was an urgency; you’d been fantasizing about this for so long, and he looked so fucking good, the only thing on your mind was getting him in your mouth—guiding him to the edge of the bed, his back to it as you kissed. His belt clinked as you got it undone, your fingers popping open the button on his pants and pulling down the zipper, your lips leaving his to crouch, tugging his pants and underwear down to his ankles.

Javi was chuckling, his head tilted to look at you, resting his hands on his hips. “Didn’t you say you wanted to blow me while I was dressed? You’re taking half of my clothes off.”

His cock had sprung free, it sticking out from under his dress shirt, the tip an angry red and shiny from precum, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah, so I don’t get anything on your pants—things are going to get… messy.”

That earned a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean…?”

You gave him a toothy grin that could rival the Cheshire cat, rising to stand as you said, “You’ll soon find out.” Pressing a hand to the middle of his chest, you pushed him back onto the mattress, the springs complaining under him.

His bare feet were flat on the floor, digging his elbows into the mattress, grunting as he sat up to watch you, his suit jacket wide open, his tie hanging to the left over his torso. He pulled his dress shirt up his belly and out of the way of his dick laying against the trail of hair below his belly button. “I’m really fucking curious about what you’re gonna do to me, Cielito.”

“It’s gonna be a good time,” you reassured, dropping to your knees between his spread legs.

“I don’t doubt that, mi amor (my love).” He had a sweet smile on his face, seeing the trust in his eyes. “But, uh, is it something… new?”

“With all the sex we have—” Taking off your shirt, you threw it haphazardly to the side. “—surprisingly, yes.”

You were thankful for the height of your bed—not too tall, not too short, it was just right to be able to rest your arms on his thighs and hover your head over his groin. You wrapped the fingers of one hand around his length, feeling him hot in your palm and so hard he was like velvety steel. Gathering spit on your tongue, you let it drip onto the tip, spreading it down his shaft with your hand as you slowly pumped him, Javi’s mouth going slack, his gorgeous throat bobbing.

“Mi amor (my love)?” His voice was rough, his pupils blown wide.

“Yes, Javi?” you answered, languidly stroking him.

There was a little smile on his face, and it had you frowning because it was the look he always had when he’d sussed you out.

“You gonna let me fuck your tits?” he asked.

Sighing, your hand paused on his cock. “Detective Peña strikes again—how’d you figure it out?”

It annoyed you how pleased he looked with himself.

“You said you had something better planned than me fucking your face that’s messy and new. Plus, you’ve got me like this.” He nodded at his body.

You thought about it for a second, moving your hand on him again, twisting it on the upstroke to make his breath hitch.

“Okay, I can see how you came to that conclusion, but with those clues, I can think of something else it could’ve been.”

It was his turn to think, seeing the wheels turning in his brain and coming up with nothing.

He swallowed hard. “What…?” he finally asked.

“Me playing with your ass while I blow you.” You shrugged.

His eyes went wide. “My… ass…?”

You were slowly pumping him.

“Yeah? Have you never messed around down there?”

“No…?”

That was honestly surprising with all of his experience. Maybe it just never crossed his mind or wasn’t something he thought to experiment with.

“You’re missing out, babe. It’s literally one of your most intense erogenous zones, and I’ve heard prostate massage makes you come really hard.”

There was a curious expression on his face, seeing the pink of his tongue wet his bottom lip.

“Really hard?” he asked.

You smiled. “Yeah. Want me to test the waters while I’m blowing you? Just some touching.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “I trust you.”

“Great! Good talk—I’m gonna choke on your dick now.”

His chuckle turned into a moan as you took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, your hand working his base while bobbing your head, his cock hitting the back of your throat.

“Feels so good, Cielito,” he rasped. “So fucking pretty with my dick in your mouth.”

You hummed around him, relishing the salty tang of his arousal, loving the heft of him sliding along your tongue. Your goal was to get him as slick as possible, not caring about the saliva dripping down his shaft and onto your hand.

Coming up, you swirled your tongue around the head, making Javi groan, hearing your wet strokes as you worked him over.

His voice was deeper, huskier, “Spit on it,” he ordered. “Spit on my dick, baby.”

You did as he requested, spitting on the tip. “Yes, that’s it,” he said. “My good fucking girl. It’s yours—this dick is yours, I’m yours.” Your mouth was back on him, moaning at his words, letting him hear how much you were enjoying yourself, squeezing your thighs together to ease your neediness.

Looking at him while your head moved, his face was flushed, sweat glistening on his forehead, his eyes-heavy lidded and dark, his lips parted while he watched you with rapt attention.

“Always hungry for my dick,” he groaned. “Fuck, you’re so fucking good at it.”

Finally, you were taking him further and further into your mouth until he reached your throat, swallowing around him and pushing forward to have his dick sliding easily into the tight space. Your eyes rolled back at how good it felt, him fitting perfectly with your jaw prised open, breathing through your nose, your inner thighs coated in slick.

He sounded wrecked, “Oh, fuck—that’s so good.” The bed jostled as he put all his weight on one elbow to reach a hand toward you, gently caressing your cheek, before moving down to feel himself bulging in your throat. “I love you so fucking much. You’re so fucking good to me, taking my dick down your throat—so fucking beautiful. Fuck, I’m lucky.”

Spit was coating your chin and dripping out of the corners of your mouth, your eyes watering, and you didn’t give a single fuck that you looked like a mess because you were loving every second of this—gulping around him, his cock got harder in your throat, his taste stronger, Javi gasping out, Cielito.

There was something about turning your boyfriend into a proverbial puddle that thrilled you—it was a heady feeling that you were in control of his pleasure and making him feel so good, your body thrumming from hearing his noises and seeing him lose himself.

Your nose was brushing the curls at his base, smelling his musk and your body wash he’d used the night before, getting notes of berries and tangerine—sputtering as you came off of him with a string of saliva and precum, keeping you connected, panting while you caught your breath, your hand wetly stroking him.

Your voice was rough. “How close are you?” you asked.

His eyes were gleaming with devotion, and reverence, his hand cradling your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your wet bottom lip.

“If you take me down your throat again, I’ll come.”

“I need you to tell me if you’re about to, okay?”

“Okay.” He nodded.

“Good boy,” you purred.

His eyes got bigger, his cock twitching in your hand as he breathed fuck, and it had a tingle moving down your spine at his reaction, filing away the knowledge he might also have praise kink for later.

The plan was to get him slobbery, leaning your head over his dick to let another wad of spit fall onto the head, followed by your mouth, keeping your eyes on his while moving up and down his length—a pained expression was on his face, his mouth fell open, a furrow between his brows, his gaze smoldering as he watched. Your hand moved to his balls, fondling the heavy sack while your mouth worked, Javi moaning loudly at your ministrations.

With what you were about to do, you had a slight worry he might come immediately, hoping he’d remember to tell you if he was close to the edge.

She was too fucking good at sucking his dick, the fire in the pit of his stomach growing rapidly with the hot heat of her mouth on him—entranced with how her soft lips stretched around his cock, coaxing him closer and closer to his end, his mind muddled with pleasure.

Fuck, she was gorgeous—he loved her so fucking much.

His body tensed when he felt her slick finger slide between his asscheeks, not knowing what to expect. Sure, he loved playing with her ass, and he’d love a chance to fuck it, but his? It wasn’t something he’d ever been interested in until she talked about how it’d make him come really hard.

Javier was very open about exploring sex—university was a time for him to experiment, even kissing a guy to see if it was something he was into; he wasn’t. He definitely was only attracted to women. So, he was down for Cielito wanting to try something that’d make him feel good.

She touched his tight ring of muscle, running her finger around it, and it felt like he was melting—his body was tingling, his cock jerking in her mouth, squeezing his eyes shut, a wounded noise ripping from his throat while clutching the bedding with his fingers.

“Holy shit,” he groaned, his breathing turning ragged. “Why does that feel so good? Is this what it feels like for you?”

Her mouth left his dick to answer, “Yeah. It’s all the nerve endings, but there’s something you have that I don’t.”

Moving her hand, she used the flat of two knuckles to stroke over the skin between his hole and balls, adding more and more small amounts of pressure— “Jesus Christ,” Javi gasped, his hips bucking. It felt so fucking good. What the fuck. His balls tightened, the heat in his pelvis turning into an inferno, too close to hitting the point of no return. “Fuck, oh fuck, gonna come.” Her hand left him immediately, making him whine at the loss of contact, his chest heaving as he panted.

You’d never been more thankful for all of the anatomy classes you’d taken in college, and Robyn, your best friend, for telling you about the guy she met in San Antonio who liked a finger in his ass when she was going down on him.

Smiling brightly as Javi opened his eyes, you asked, “Good?”

He was nodding, panting while he wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “Yeah. When we have more time…”

“We will absolutely explore assplay now that it’s on the table.”

Smiling, he replied, “Good, and thank you—learned something new.”

“The student has become the teacher.”

His eyebrow arched. “I haven’t taught you shit.”

“I mean, you’ve introduced me to a lot of new stuff, so you kinda have. You good?”

He needed to adjust how he was sitting, switching the elbow he was putting his weight on, the bed beneath him squeaking softly. “Yeah.”

His cock rested on his stomach, wetting his skin with your spit. You took it in your hand, shuffling closer, rubbing the wet tip over your hard nipple, looking him in the eyes.

“You ready to fuck my tits, Javi?”

“Fuck, yes,” he husked, his eyes so dark barely any brown remained.

He was staring at your chest as you put his dick between your breasts, pressing them tightly together to keep him in place, rising up on your knees and falling back down, feeling him slickly sliding in your cleavage over and over again.

“Fucking love your tits,” he rasped. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, mi alma (my soul).”

His cock was hard against your sternum, the softness of your breasts giving way to his girth, setting a steady rhythm, seeing Javi’s glazed-over gaze locked on what you were doing. You played with your stiff nipples, the sparks of pleasure igniting in your core.

“You gonna come on them?” you breathily asked. “Or in my mouth?”

“Shit,” he groaned. “On them—gonna fucking paint them in my come.”

“Yeah?” you asked, as you kept moving. “You’re gonna come all over my tits? Mark me with it?”

“I am.” He licked his lips. “Gonna make a fucking mess.”

“I want you to come on them—want you to jerk off on me,” you said, lifting up and down.

His breaths were getting shallower, the muscles tightening in his belly, knowing he was getting close.

“Fuck, baby, you want to watch me fuck my hand? Watch how you get me off?”

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Scoot back, Cielito—gotta stand up, gonna come.”

Letting go of your breasts, you quickly moved back, Javi groaning as he stood up from the bed, one big hand holding up his dress shirt, the other wrapping around his cock, hearing the wet strokes of him pumping it fast. You leaned back a little, sticking your chest out, transfixed with the partially dressed man above you baring his teeth, looking almost angry with the crease between his eyebrows, grunting as he furiously jerked himself off.

You pushed your tits together, looking up at him under your eyelashes.

“You gonna come for me, Javi?” you asked. “I want it—I want it all over me, Papí. Give it to me.”

A pained sound came from him, his eyes closing for a moment.

“God, I fucking love you,” he panted.

You could see the muscles in his thighs tensing, a guttural groan rumbling from his chest as he came, hot ropes of his spend streaking over your breasts and chest.

His hand came to a stop, his shoulders slumping, eyes closed, his body relaxing like he’d been wrung out while breathing hard. His cheeks were stained red, and his forehead was wet with sweat, needing a moment to come down.

You felt amazing, just so happy you got to do everything you wanted this morning, glancing over at the clock on the bedside table to see you were making good time, positive that if there weren’t any delays, he’d be at work right on time.

“Yeah,” you started, breaking the silence while looking down at your chest. “Still definitely prefer cream pies—less messy, but being your little toaster strudel is hot.”

Air loudly left Javi’s nose, it turning into him laughing, your head tilting up to see he had a dimpled grin and crinkles at the edges of his open eyes, looking positively tickled by what you said. It had warmth spreading through your veins, smiling big at him.

It took him some seconds to calm down. Finally, he said, “That was fucking funny.”

“I’m glad I could amuse you.”

“Don’t move,” he said, his body twisting to the side to grab the Polaroid camera off the bed.

“Need a picture of the Jackson Pollock you made on my chest?”

He snorted, holding the camera up to his face. “Need a picture of you being my little toaster strudel,” he answered. The flash went off, hearing the camera whine as it spat out the picture, Javi grabbing it, and setting the device back onto the mattress, the photo he took of you getting set next to the one you took of him.

“You gonna put it with your collection?” you asked. There was a stack of dirty Polaroids in his bedside table, next to his bottle of lube for when he jerked off, which was a very rare occurrence.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, his attention moving back to you. “Fuck, you’re pretty.” Bending a little, he swiped a finger through the mess on your chest, bringing it up to your lips. “Open.”

His order made you clench hard around nothing. Opening your mouth to accept his digit, he pushed it in, moaning at his salty taste as you sucked it clean.

“Good girl,” he rasped, pulling it out. “Your plan was perfect.”

You preened at his words.

“You liked it?” you asked.

“Loved it, Cielito.” His gaze went to his groin. “You were right about it being messy, though.”

His lap was drenched with spit, making you grimace while getting up to your feet. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” you said, walking over to the little table beside where he slept and getting two small towels out from the stack under it that were specifically for post-sex, taking one to him and using the other to clean yourself up.

“You sure you don’t want to visit me on my lunch?” he asked while wiping himself down. “No sex, just food in my new office.”

“As much as I want to, I actually have plans today,” you answered, your body cleaned off, tossing your dirtied rag into the nearby hamper.

“I thought you took the day off to watch me get dressed…?” He’d discarded his towel into the hamper as well. Watching as he bent down to pull up his pants and underwear, looking at you while he tucked in his dress shirt.

“I did, and to take care of some other stuff.” You waved away the words like they weren’t important.

“What stuff?” he asked, hearing the metal clank as he put on his belt.

“I need to go grocery shopping for some special ingredients because there’s a new recipe I want to make that’s going to take me all day. I wanted you to have a nice dinner after your first day at your new job,” you said, shrugging.

His eyes got big, closing the distance with a couple of steps to crush you into a hug.

“I love you,” he said into your hair.

“I love you, too.” You were rubbing your clean hands up and down his back.

“I don’t deserve you.” He kissed your head.

“Oh, you stop that right now. You more than deserve me.”

He leaned back to look at you, stroking his hands up and down your bare upper arms.

“Thank you for this morning and for whatever you’re gonna cook.”

“You’re welcome, baby. Good way to start your day?”

He smiled. “The fucking best.”

Leaning in, he kissed you tenderly, feeling his love with each press of his lips.

When it ended, he asked, “Can I call you on my lunch?”

“Of course, Javi—I’d love to talk to you,”

His lips lifted in a smile. “Then I’ll call.”

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Tagging: @theorganasolo @nicolethered @nessamc @vanemando15 @fiscinthirst @melancholyy-hill @hnt-escape @sherala007 @jadesabre83 @rainbeaubrightchild @blub-senpai @pedrohoe04 @theherothesavior @captain-creampuff @javiersjeans @zetasaturno99 @amb11 @lovedbyth3sun @siidereeus @marvelousmermaid @mrszdjarin @themarcusmoreno @woomen23 @ms-loverman-066 @star-wars-fan-2005 @kissing-stars @chloeinpink @lupinshouseelf @notyourlovemonkey @unofficialavenger90 @tumblertatiana @fictionismyreality @sheetsof-lennon @damnyoupedro @katareyoudrilling @iamskyereads @enjoyourlattebitch @daddydindjarin @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @athalien @thevoiceinyourheadx @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @mswarriorbabe80 @theewokingdead @guess-my-next-obsession @pedrostories

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña/reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x you #wheresarizona writes #learning to live series

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purplephantomwolf · 10 months

Text

Savoring the Finish Line

Chapter One

Story Synopsis: Max Verstappen falls in love with a woman who owns a bakery.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately. Also, this is not an accurate portrayal with how a bakery works. I did my best with research, but it's not 100%.

Warnings for this chapter: Badly translated French, mention of panic attack

Next chapter: Chapter Two

Masterlist

December 18, 2021

I’m pulled out of my deep slumber by a whining noise and something wet on my face. I groan, wiping my face. “Yuck,” I mumble, feeling wetness on my fingers. I hear a whine again and wake up more. I look to my left and am met by the cold, wet nose of my Pitbull puppy, Lacey. I glance at the clock, letting out a sigh when I see that it’s 4 am, 30 minutes before my alarm goes off. Lacey whines again, jumping off my bed and running to the door. I spot Lacey’s sister Elise, a German Shepard puppy, already standing by the door. “Alright, I’m coming,” I mumble, dragging myself out of bed. I slide on some flip flops before grabbing Lacey and Elise’s leashes. I clip the leashes onto their collars and walk down the stairs of my apartment, into my bakery. I flip on all the lights, blinding myself and waking up more. Elise whines, reminding me why I’m up. I flip the lock of the back door, walking outside with my girls. We start our morning walk, stopping every five seconds so Lacey or Elise can sniff the ground.

Eventually, we make a loop around the block. I open the back door and the girls go barreling through the door and up the stairs. I laugh and glance at the time. It’s now 5 am, so I need to start preparing the bakery for opening. I rush upstairs to change into my uniform. Lacey and Elise are patiently waiting by their food bowls. I quickly change, before feeding the puppies. I head downstairs while they eat.

I start up all the ovens in the kitchen, starting the fans to keep the place cool next. Next, I take the dough I made last night for the croissants out of the fridge. I walk over to the computer in my office, booting up the computer. I hit play on the bakery playlist I have created. I grab my apron, sliding it over my head. I unlock the front door so my employees can enter. Walking back to the kitchen, I start making the croissants. I hear the bell on the bakery front door ring, as Louis, I assume, enters. Louis is an older gentleman working at my bakery part time in his retirement. His wife, Estelle, also works part time here. She usually comes in later than he does. “Bonjour, Adaline!” I hear him call.

“Bonjour, Louis,” I call back, sliding the croissants into the oven. “I just put the croissants in the oven. Can you get started on wiping down the surfaces here please?” I ask him, wiping my hands on my apron as I walk out of the kitchen. Louis nods quickly, flashing me a quick smile. He walks off to the office to put up his coat and things. He then quickly gets to work, wiping down every surface. I walk back into the kitchen, getting out some of the pastries and breads I baked yesterday. I put them in a second oven, heating them up. I hum along to the soft music as I work, hearing Louis singing along in the front.

“So, what’s your plans for your birthday on Monday, ma chérie?” I hear Louis ask from behind me, as I pull the croissants out of the oven. I sigh, setting the tray down.

“Cuddling up under a blanket and eating ice cream with Lacey and Elise while watching Doctor Who,” I shrug, turning to pull the other pastries out of the oven. I hear Louis sigh behind me. Knowing him, I just know that he’s shaking his head in fake disappointment.

“Non, non. Oh que non. You’ll be spending it with Estelle and I, at least for dinner. We’ll make that pesto pasta you like so much. Be at our house by 7,” Louis declares. I sigh, turning around to face him.

“Louis, the bakery doesn’t close until 8 on Mondays,” I remind him. He gives me a stern look, telling me it’s non-negotiable. “Fine, fine. I’ll be there,” I give in, smiling. Louis grins, happy with himself. “You guys are still coming over for Christmas dinner, right,” I ask. Louis nods, before grabbing the plate of croissants. He heads back to the front to get started on placing the croissants in the display. I grin to myself, mumbling, “Stubborn man.”

As I’m placing the last pastry of the first batch in the display, the bell for the door goes off. I glance up, smiling as Estelle enters. “Morning, Estelle,” I wave.

“Morning, mon amour,” she smiles. She heads into the office to put her things up, but not before giving Louis a kiss. I let out a small smile at how cute they are. 50 years later, and they’re still as in love with each other as they were on day one. I head to the front door, flipping the sign from saying we’re closed to saying we’re open. Estelle comes out of the office, taking up her station at the register, Louis takes up position at the coffee station, and I head back to my position in the kitchen.

***********************************************************************

“Have a good night, guys,” I say, giving Louis and Estelle kisses goodbye on their cheeks.

“You too, sweetie. Don’t work too hard. I know it’s cleaning night,” Estelle gives me a playful glare. I raise my hands in defense.

“I promise I won’t overwork myself. Won’t happen again. No need to worry about me,” I grin. Louis and Estell give me hugs and a kiss on the forehead before heading out the door. Once they’re out of sight, I race upstairs to change into some workout shorts and my stained Lewis Hamilton shirt. My father gave it to me back when Lewis was absolutely dominating as a joke. I've been a Red Bull fan since they entered Formula 1, which did not make my dad, a die hard Mercedes fan, happy. I tend to only wear the Lewis shirt when I’m cleaning, which explains all the stains you see on it. I walk back downstairs, bringing Lacey and Elise with me. I check on them throughout the day, but I do not allow them to be in the bakery while there are customers here. When no one is here, I allow them to stay in the kitchen with me.

I set to work cleaning, stopping to play with the puppies every so often. After an hour of cleaning, I hear the bell for the door ring. My eyebrows knit in confusion. “I thought I’d locked the door, oops,” I mumble. I turn to my dogs, telling them to sit and stay. They obediently listen to me. “I’m sorry, we’re closed,” I say, walking out the kitchen doors. I freeze when I look around. Two thoughts immediately enter my head.

One: Max Verstappen is in my bakery.

Two: Max Verstappen is currently having a panic attack.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @bookishbabyyy

#max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 story #f1 imagines #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen story

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cuttergauthier · 1 year

Text

Sleep

Female reader x Mark Estapa

Warning: Nightmares, fluff Mark

word count: 0.5k

In honour of his birthday🥺

let me know what you guys think🤍

Y/n hasn’t slept properly in weeks. She’s been having nightmares, she hadn’t had any since she was a kid but recently, they started again. All her friends could tell she wasn’t getting any sleep and they were starting to worry. especially her best friend Mark.

Today was probably the fourth day in a row where I only got about an hour of sleep. When I was a kid, I used to have nightmares but as I grew up I started to get less and less until I didn’t get any anymore. Since Monday they started up again, it was always the same one, I was being chased in the woods and suddenly before anything really bad happened I woke up in sweat.

My friends could tell I wasn’t sleeping they kept bringing it up but I told them I was to busy studying that I wasn’t sleeping.

I could tell they were starting to worry when they saw me like this for the fourth day in a row.

Right now I was leaving my last class of the day it was around 6 when I got a call from Mark.

“Hey Mark, what can I help you with?”

“Are you leaving class right now?”

“yeah, I’m on my way home as we speak, why?”

“Can I come over?”

“yes, of course”

“Perfect, I’ll see you soon”

I continued walking back to my apartment, thank fully I only live 5 minutes away from campus. When I made it home I changed into a hoodie and sweatpants.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. When I opened it I saw Mark smiling.

“Hey” he said smiling

“Hey, so what brings you here” I asked after letting him in the apartment.

“We’ve all been worried about you, I just wanted to check in make sure everything was okay, I know you haven’t been staying up studying”

“I just haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all, you don’t have to worry”

“We care about you, were always going to worry”

“since I was a kid I’ve had nightmares where I would wake up In the middle of the night sweating. As I got older they went away but recently they came back”

Mark looked at me sadly

“I’m sorry y/n”

“There’s nothing you can do about it, I just have to figure it out on my own”

“How about I stay with you tonight? Maybe if someone else is with you it’ll make you feel safer and you won’t get nightmares” he said genuinely

“I can’t ask you to do that Mark”

“You’re not asking, I’m volunteering, I also wouldn’t mind a break from the boys” he said making me laugh

“I mean, If you are down… I could use some cuddles” I said shyly making Mark smile.

“I’m in” he said smiling

“Now come on, you need sleep” he said dragging me to my bedroom and into bed.

“Good night Y/n” he said kissing my forehead.

“Good night Mark… Thank you” I said before falling asleep.

#nhl #nhl fanfiction #NHL fic #nhl fluff #hockey #nhl hockey #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #mark estapa #mark estapa imagine #mark estapa blurb #mark estapa fic #umich hockey #umich imagine #umich blurbs #umich boys <3 #fluff

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greencways · 7 months

Text

Fic Name: Night fever

Paring: Elle Greenaway x Reader

Words: 931

Warnings: mostly fluff but there is a tiny bit of an alcohol mention

Content: Reader and Elle watching a horror movie, reader can't sleep that night and Elle comforts them in a cuddle.

A/N: this was another request, but it was super cute and i loved writing it

————————————————————————

"It's my turn to choose the movie this week" Elle grinned.

You groaned as you tilted your head back as you let out a laughed stifled.

"You chose last week Y/N it's Elle's turn now" JJ laughed.

"Okay fine but I'm staying here all night" You laughed.

"Fine by me" Elle agreed considering it was her apartment.

"Fantastic" you tilted your head to the side and smirked.

"Jayje grab the popcorn" Elle shouted as she watched around the couch to put the movie on the TV.

"On it" JJ said running to the cupboard where Elle kept the giant bowls next to the sink.

"Alright who's ready?" Penelope laughed.

"Definitely not Y/N" Elle laughed.

"Very funny Elle, but I'm actually very more than ready" you said with the straightest face as you can.

Elle being a profiler knew you were lying straight away but she wanted to see how far you would go with this lie.

"Right now?" She giggled.

"Right now" you didn't back down but smirked very gently almost impossible for Elle too see if she blinked.

"Alright" Elle said grabbing the bowl out of JJ's hand but keeping eye contact with you.

"Boo" JJ grabbed your shoulders which made you fall to the floor in fear, Elle, JJ, and Penelope laughed while JJ helped you up "I'm sorry" JJ apologized while helping you up.

"JJ it's fine I didn't even get that scared" you lied.

JJ nodded whilst trying her best to hold her grin.

"Come on, it's starting" Penelope shouted.

"Shift up" You said motioning your hands in a swooping position for you to sit in between Elle and JJ, Penelope insistent on being the chair, you did it to selfishly if need be cuddle with Elle.

1 hour later around 2am Penelope had fallen asleep and JJ had hogged the popcorn bowl which made you and Elle and laugh after you realise you hadn't had popcorn in a while.

"Are you scared?" Elle whispered in your ear.

"Not really" you shrugged but Elle felt you shaking.

"Okay" Elle chuckled softly.

"Alright well me and Pen are gonna head off" she smiled as soon as the film finished "do you need a lift Y/N/N?" JJ asked.

"Oh um" you said wondering if Elle remembered if you said you wanted to stay with her tonight.

"She'll stay" Elle smiled genuinely, it wasn't harsh in the way she stated it, in fact it was the opposite.

"Alright well I will see you guys on Monday" JJ smiled.

"Have fun lovebirds" Penelope said half asleep not realising what she actually said out loud.

"She's staying with me tonight" JJ told you and Elle "but you guys have fun though" JJ winked.

"Oh- um-uhh" you tripped over your words and blushed and all Elle could do was watch to see how you would react to you.

Elle hugged Penelope at the door "Get home safely you guys" JJ turned to JJ as she hugged her.

JJ nodded and smiled before she took Penelope's arm underneath hers to lead her to her car.

"Goodnight" Elle said closing the door leaning out for a final goodbye to them.

"Are you ready for bed honey pie?" Elle smiled.

"Sure am" you smiled.

"My guest bedroom is through here" she said guiding you to a room you were somewhat familiar with after putting a very drunk JJ to bed here once or twice.

"Thanks Elle" you smiled as you slipped into bed.

Hours passed and you couldn't sleep because of that film, you tossed and turned, you tried a lamp, you tried white noise, and yet nothing was working.

"Ughhhh" you groaned as you got out of bed walking to Elle's room.

You knocked on Elle's door "Elle" you tapped lightly just enough for her to stir

"Y/N" she said sitting up and rubbing her eyes "Y/N is everything okay?" she smiled.

"Yeah-um- yeah I'm- yeah I'm sorry for you waking you" you turned around.

"Are you scared?" it came out genuine, there was nothing malicious about the way she said it, she meant it.

"Yeah I am" you laughed.

"Get in here" Elle said shuffling back holding up the blanket for you to slip under to make room for you.

"You don't mind?" You laughed.

"Not at all" She smiled "Plus the company would be kind of nice" she grinned.

"Elle" you knew she was just trying to make you feel better.

"No I mean it, I like spending time with you, as much as I can and I like hanging out with you, you're my best friend in the entire world and I love you" Elle's words were unintelligible but you thought her rambling about how much she loved you was cute.

“Me too" you smiled.

"Good morning" Elle said hugging you from behind.

"Hey you" you turned to face her "what you said yesterday?" you suggested.

"Oh" she said in defeat "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable" she bit her lip.

"Um no It didn't, I was gonna tell you I felt the same sooner or later" you laughed.

"You feel the same way about me?" Elle smiled.

"Yes" You smiled as you fell flat on your back Elle hugged you as she fell on your chest "Come here" you smiled as you pulled her face down by her cheeks to kiss her.

"You have no idea how badly I've been wanting to do that" Elle laughed honestly.

"Hopefully every morning for the rest of time?" you questioned happily.

"For the rest of time" Elle stated.

#criminal minds #fanfic #lola glaudini #elle greenaway x reader #elle greenaway #elle greenaway x you

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lightbluuestars · 8 months

Note

if Peemo got to be your boyfriend husband for the week, how would you spend it?

A WEEK?!! AN ENTIRE WEEK?!! oh my god i'd simply pass away (of love and happiness)

how should i put this, hm? just a day with this man would be enough!! (until it ends, then i'm empty for the rest of my life)

seven whole days of love and affection and appreciation for one another, oh my god

sunday would be particularly cozy, spending the day inside and just lovin on each other. hugs, kisses, cuddles, fueling each other for the week ahead. he'd have a ghoul tend to his plants, just for that day. preferably an earth ghoul, please.

monday would be kind of busy, having duties to attend to around the abbey and whatnot. inviting me out to his gardens and greeting me with an affectionate hug along with a sweet kiss. he'd show me around his gardens, pointing out specific plants and flowers he liked or thought i would like. the day ends with dinner and reading together in bed. i'd show him the pictures in my books, fascinated. (wwii books, i like them a lot, very interesting)

tuesday would come, and every morning is almost the same. waking up together, showering (depends on what mood we're in, together or alone), dressing, and leaving each other once again to preform our duties in the abbey. occasionally, i'd help him with his paints, but i don't often because i joke i don't trust myself with that kind of job. i simply cannot focus enough for that. this time, i invite him to have lunch with me, and we talk about what we had done earlier in the day, and what we will do. depending on our moods, we might spend the night in bed together pleasing one another, or we might stay outside and look at the stars. he likes to watch the stars, and points out constellations in the sky for me to look at.

wednesday arrives, and the morning is a free one. we shower together, and i attempt to apply his paints but fail miserably and end up a heap of laughter on the floor. he fixes his paints, taps my nose, and then we have breakfast. he brews some of his own tea, and i happily join him in sitting outside and enjoy the morning sun. we spend most of the morning outside, and he watches as i fashion flower crowns out of the clovers in the grass. (with his permission, of course.) i place one on his head, and one on mine. he smiles, and admires the crown i had made for him. the day ends with a nice bath (together, obviously) and doing our own thing before bed. he might finish up some paperwork, and i might end up drawing. a good day.

thursday is here, and he is gone when i wake up. turns out, he was needed somewhere, and left me alone. (sad, i know) i continue on with the day, barely even seeing him. i end up coming back and jumping his bones, and the entire night is spent together, making up for the lost time from the day.

friday, finally, and he's stuck in bed with a bad back. courtesy of last night's events. i take the day off, reassure him that his garden will be fine, because i asked a trusted earth ghoul to care for the garden. i care for him the whole day, brewing him tea and massaging his back. i draw a bath for him, with epsom salts, and leave him be for a while. after he's back in bed, i give him some painkillers and kiss his forehead, telling him to get some sleep. i stay up for a while longer, before retreating to bed and falling asleep next to him.

on saturday, his back is better and he can get back outside again. this time, he goes without the paints. it's a saturday, he can relax. he takes his time out in the garden, and will happily accept my help once i'm out there with him. i had brought him some tea and scones, and we enjoyed the morning together. the afternoon was spent in near silence, just existing together. the occasional turn of a page or the flutter of the curtains in the wind disrupted the silence, but it was well welcomed. we were happy together. the day ends curled around each other in bed, whispering words of affection until we drift off to sleep.

#i've been waiting for this #you don't even understand #primo #lightbluuestars answers #mutuals #would this count as #primo x reader #????#can you tell i'm obsessed #i think you can #i wanna fuck that old man #so bad

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bebepac · 1 year

Text

Mood Music Monday 02/20/23

Sorry peeps I’ve been so busy with work that writing has really been taking a back seat, reading as well. I’ve been thinking about writing, and I was finally able to write on a few of my storylines and hope to get a brand new chapter of something posted this weekend. At least that's my hope.

If you missed my last chapter post it was a one shot for Valentine’s Day my first new fic in over two months... I know:

The Galentine’s Day Queens

Original Post: 02/20/23 at 9:19PM EST.

The Vampires Live On Part 3

The Book TRR

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Song Inspirations:

Friday I’m in Love: By The Cure

Together Again: By Janet Jackson

I laughed loudly as Liam continued to pepper my face with kisses.

The older couple sitting across from us on the airplane were watching us. I playfully pushed him away from me, wagging my pointer finger at him.

“Liam, hands off!”

“Actually it’s not my hands that are touching you right now, it’s my lips.” He leaned into me once more puckering up; I used my hand to stop him and he kissed my palm instead that was blocking my face.

“So lips off then!”

“You know I don’t have the self control for that.”

“Indeed you don’t.”

“Besides, I’m in love with you and I don’t care who sees or knows. Love is a beautiful thing, and I love my wife.”

Finally the older woman’s face softened.

“How long have the two of you been married? You two look very young. You can’t have been married long.”

Amusement danced in Liam’s eyes as he smiled at me. He kissed my hand.

“It feels like we have been together for a beautiful symphony of many blissful lifetimes rolled up into one. Spending eternity with her is like a dream that I never wish to wake from.”

“Liam….” Now it was my turn to kiss him cuddling closer to him, he wrapped his arms tight around me.

They had been so many people over the years, versions of themselves, whereas I think had settled into who I am, forever Alice at my core, Gabriel liked to mix things up. He had a book with pages devoted to each person he had been over the last seven hundred years. Of the people he had been while in my company, I have to say I love Liam the best. He is strong, yet soft-hearted and romantic, kind and chivalrous, truly the best of both worlds. I had been incredibly fond of Gabriel all of these years, but it was when he became Liam, is when I truly fell in love with him. It was Liam that proposed to me, and it was Liam that I married after all these years.

It was Liam that decided it was time for us to travel back to my home.

Shattered Heart

The Cordonan Arrangement : Part 6

The Book: TRR/TRH

Pairings: Riley x Nico (Riley x M!OC)

Song Inspiration:

Lift Me Up: By Rihanna

Nico’s dog Icarus was still sitting outside the room Nico had spent his last days in; Everyone in the house was grieving for Nico Karahalios.

Chance had not left Riley’s side.

When Liam went to check on Riley, she was still sleeping peacefully. He weighed the option of letting her sleep, versus waking her up for dinner. He decided that Riley needed to rest more. He would make sure that Riley got up and had breakfast with them tomorrow.

Liam had been fortunate that he had decided the best thing to do was travel to Greece several times while Nico was still feeling well and had spent time with Angelo alone, so that he wasn’t afraid when he woke up finding Liam in the kitchen. Liam smiled when Angelo ran to him to give him a hug. Angelo appeared happy to see him.

“I missed you too.” Liam whispered as he picked him up carrying him over to the table.

“Mama?” he asked.

“Mama’s sleeping.”

Liam was secretly relieved that Angelo did not ask about Nico.

That night after Angelo’s bath and everything was quiet in the house, he put Angelo to bed.

“I bet you want a bedtime story.”

Angelo nodded.

"Your Bampás told me that he always read to you every night, and he made something really special for you.”

Riley woke from her sleep when she heard his voice coming from Angelo’s room. She opened the door to find Liam holding one of Angelo’s bedtime story books showing him the pictures, while Nico was on video his voice lively and his face animated complete with funny faces, and different voices, as he read the story for their child. Nico had been a great father.

Riley softly kissed Angelo’s forehead before she sat in the chair next to the bed. Tears filled her eyes, and she seemed completely enamored with the screen.

That’s when Liam truly knew, winning Riley’s heart again would not be easy; he would be competing for Riley’s love, with the memory of a dead man. A dead man Riley was very much still madly in love with.

#bebepac writes #mood music monday #snippets galore #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #play choices #trr fandom #liam x riley #riley x nico

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txemrn · 2 years

Note

ethan’s reaction to tatum getting up in the middle of the night to get water or something & then coming back & giving him a lil smooch on his forehead thinking he’s asleep? what about if it was the other way around? im in a fluffy sappy mood lol 💖

Mal! 💜 I adore you and your kindness and that sweet fluffy sappiness of yours! Thank you so much for all of the Asks that you have been sending out! They have been so much fun. Sending you major hugs... and a drabble that NO ONE asked for, that did NOT follow the directions (what else is new?). 😘

Word Count: ~1000

Summary: With baby Ramsey not sleeping through the night, Ethan and Tatum make a pact of who gets up with the little one.

Rating/Warning: teen; language; innuendos

AN: Huge thank you to my sweet, creative friend @sfb123 who helped me brainstorm banter! What is with us and Monday mornings? lol Love you! Our lovely broody doctor belongs to our friends at Pixelberry. Also, I haven't revealed Baby Ramsey's gender just yet, so if you see a random "he" or "she", don't get too excited. And last but not least: now that they're married, when they're being silly, Ethan and Tatum call each Mr. and Mrs. rather than "doctor".

~💜~

"Goodnight, my little vampire," Tatum whispers, a smirk hidden in her exhausted eyes. Ensuring that the mobile above the crib is set on a timer, she tiptoes out of the darkened nursery. Leaning her back against the closed door, she exhales a sigh of relief before returning to her bed.

Ethan and Tatum were lucky to have a baby that started sleeping through the night at ten weeks of age. However, a little regression happened this past week when their almost five-month old started cutting their first few teeth. The couple agreed there was no point in both of them getting up to soothe their little one; so they made a pact that whoever woke up first would tend to the baby. It was a great idea. In theory.

Tatum found herself alone, waking up every few hours for the past six days. She was extremely fatigued, and her nipples were sore from the cluster-feeding. Ethan, however, was sleeping like a baby–better than their actual baby. How the hell was he resting through their child's high pitched shrills for comfort?

As Tatum sneaks back into their master bedroom, she stares at her sleeping husband, his eyes peacefully closed, snuggly tucked under the covers.

And her eyebrows begin to furrow as her lips twist. Is he really asleep? Like, is he actually sleeping through all of this commotion?

Bullshit.

She carefully crawls between the sheets before leaning over to look at her quiet husband.

We'll just see about that...

"Are you awake?" Tatum barely whispers. He doesn't flinch, continuing to slumber. She sweetly presses her lips to his cheek before laying her head on his shoulder, cuddling against his still body. She runs her fingers across the musculature of his bare chest before undoing the drawstring of his pajama pants. But still, he remains motionless.

Oh, you are faking, you fake-ass faker…

Tatum scowls. She feels her pulse begin to race as she becomes more and more irritated by the minute. It was time to hit him where it hurt.

Let's see how well you sleep to this…

"Oh, baby," she mewls, "I don't know how we're gonna do this... with two babies in diapers in just a few short months."

"The fuck?"

Tatum feels the mattress dip next to her. She looks up to find a very stunned Ethan, anxiously pulling at his hair.

"Oh! Sweetheart," she feigns sincerity, sitting up in bed, "did I wake you up?"

"Tatum," he grabs her face tenderly, fear crashing into his eyes. "Are… are you really?"

Tatum shrugs before putting her fists on her hips. "Are you really fake sleeping so you don't have to get up with the baby?"

"Unbelievable," Ethan grunts, throwing himself back onto his pillow, turning his back to his wife.

"You know what? You're right, Ethan Ramsey," she snarls. "You are unbelievable." She roughly fluffs her pillow before throwing it down on the bed. Beyond angry, she begins to sniffle, turning her back to her husband.

Hearing her whimpers, Ethan glances over his shoulder to see her body tremble with each sob. He lets out a deep exhale before turning around to face Tatum. He clears his throat. "So… maybe I have been taking advantage of you, trying to get more sleep…"

Tatum turns around, the corner of her mouth turning up as she listens to her husband's attempt to apologize.

"But Tate," he scoffs, "what am i supposed to do?" He taps his chest, "You've got what the goods–"

"That's what the bottles are for, Rams–"

Suddenly they are silenced by the familiar scream of their tiny human, shrieking in the darkness. Ethan sighs, massaging his temple. "This doesn't last forever," he mumbles.

"This doesn't last forever," Tatum kindly grins, taking his hand and kissing the back of it. "Just hit the button with the picture of a bottle on it." Her words begin to slur as she relaxes, closing her eyes.

After a good twenty minutes, baby Ramsey finally settled down which finally settled down Tatum's mommy heart. Hearing Ethan's heavy steps coming back to the bedroom, she quickly shuts her eyes and pretends to be asleep.

Ethan crawls into bed and stares at his wife. And he snickers to himself. He brushes his lips across her forehead before whispering into her ear.

"I know you're awake."

Tatum remains still as Ethan raises an eyebrow, his eyes not leaving her still, peaceful body.

"You know how I know you're awake?"

Tatum remains silent, her eyes resting shut.

"Because you're not sawing logs." He notices a slight purse to her lips, trying to stifle her laughter. All of a sudden, Ethan lets out a giant snore, tickling his wife's sides.

She squeals, wildly kicking. She finally jolts up, grabbing her pillow and begins to playfully swat at her husband. "I… don't…. snore, you… asshole!"

Laughing uncontrollably, Ethan grabs a pillow to defend himself. "Now who's faking sleep."

Tatum stops, trying her best to look mad, but she can't help, but giggle.

"Do I know you? Or do I know you?" Ethan snickers as he fluffs up his side of the bed to go back to sleep. "You can't pull a fast one on me. I know when you're faking."

They both finally quiet down into comfortable silence as they readjust their bodies in bed, becoming more relaxed–that is until Tatum opens her mouth.

"You don't know when I fake an orgasm."

"Tatum Ramsey!" Ethan roars, "are you fucking kidding me right now?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "Wouldn't you like to know..."

Tatum suddenly yelps as Ethan grips his large hands around her hips, jerking her body underneath his. "Wrong answer, Mrs. Ramsey," he nuzzles his thick lips into her neck, eliciting soft giggles and moans from his wife.

She cradles his head in his arms, firmly tugging at his dark waves as her voice turns breathy, flirty. "What are you going to do about it, Mr. Ramsey?"

He lifts her leg around his own waist before giving her ass a swift spank. "I dare you to fake it this time."

~💜~

Tags (this is my new list as of 9/26; if you wish to be added/removed, let me know!):

PERMA

@21-wishes @alj4890 @angelasscribbles @ao719 @charlotteg234 @harleybeaumont @issabees @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @tessa-liam

ALL OPH

@alyshak92 @annfg8 @cariantha @lsvdw-blog @mvalentine @ofmischiefandmedicine @rookiemartin @starrystarrytrouble @youlookappropriate

#open heart drabble #choices open heart #open heart #choices oph #ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan x tatum #ethan ramsey x tatum erikson #tathan #baby ramsey

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waking-hell · 3 months

Note

What do you think of love?

Well... Okay good question, I'm gonna take my time here

In my humble opinion, love is missing them while I go downstairs to get the pizza.

Love is to feel safe in a dark room.

Love is my heart skipping a beat every time I dance with them.

It's not moving during a punk rock show because holding them feels like heaven. It's sending and receiving silly memes during a work meeting.

It's those Netflix series that suck and only them watch with me. It's cuddling on a Sunday morning with no time to leave the bed.

Love is also the sound of the doorbell ringing, making me quickly get up and run straight to the door, only to get myself together seconds before opening it with a surprised look in my face of "whoa what a surprise, I wasn't even here waiting like crazy to kiss you".

Love is them knowing I like my coffee black, without sugar, a drop of milk and two stirs from the spoon.

Love is wearing that ugly sweater they gave me every weekend. The one only me find beautiful. Seriously, only me.

Love is what makes their tuneless singing in the shower be the reason of my smile.

Love is eating meat on the first date even if I'm vegetarian. Love is using a lasagna recipe 4 times on Saturday so I can cook it right for them on Sunday.

Is cancelling plans just to spend time with them and to think everytime the phone rings, it's them.

Love is waking up early on Saturday.

I mean no, hold on

Love is waking up early on Saturday to drive to their cousin's ballet performance.

I mean wait, not yet, almost there

Love is waking up early on Saturday to drive to their cousin's ballet performance in another town.

Love is a one way ticket to Italy. It's stop singing "I fell in love with the wrong person" because that's not true anymore.

Love is giving them flowers on a rainy Monday just because, or receiving an ice cream delivery on a cold Wednesday, why not?

Love is losing my breath every time I see her and still keep breathing, I don't know how. It's singing "Friday, I'm In Love" by The Cure every day of the week.

Love is holding hands in the park at 3 AM after a midnight drive because there's nothing better than night walks in the park if they're by my side.

Love is getting into a party of 500 people and only have eyes for one. It's not knowing if I should take their clothes off fast or slow. It's not knowing where do I start kissing them. It's to fuck all night and to make love all morning. It's diving deeper in the galaxies of their eyes, it's losing myself in their laughter and never want to come back.

Love is baby, sweetheart, princess, darling, baby girl, sweetie, my girl.

Love is cuddling, giving hickeys to each other. Love is fucking awesome, because all of that can be love. All those things and infinite other situations, moments, days, minutes and seconds that makes our hearts beats faster. You can find love everywhere. And I hope you do, whoever you are, and find a thousand other answers to this question, because if you really think about it, you cannot have only one answer.

I think that's the reason I just loved this question and decided to write all this, to answer this way. I think that's why I love love so much, despite everything.

Love is the point of it all.

#don't give up on it my friend #feelings can be scary #but honestly what's the point of it all if we don't allow ourselves to feel?#despite all i've been through #i still believe in happiness #i still believe in love #whoever you are i hope you do too #love #personal #kinda writing #writing #ask

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mystradepromptsandscenarios · 2 years

Text

Mystrade Monday Part 3

We are back! 🎉🎉🎉

Here is a list of the past prompts starting in September 2022. If any tickle your fancy, feel free to use them. There’s no statute of limitations and they never expire. 😊

Character A likes instant coffee (or tea) Character B tries to show them the error of their ways. Whether or not Character B is successful is up to you. (9/5/22)

“I appreciate your concern.” (9/12/22) from @love-me-a-good-prompt

“I’m in need of affection.” (9/19/22) from @justlydiasworld

“Come here. Hold my hand.” (9/26/22) from @novelbear

Character A takes a picture of Character B. Character A loves the picture, but Character B can’t stand it. (10/3/22)

“You never know what the future holds.” (10/10/22)

“Happy birthday.” (10/17/22)

“Can we always be this close?” (10/24/22) from Taylor Swift

“How long has it been since you slept?” (10/31/22) @ohisms

Character A likes to include half-truths and tall-tales in their stories and Character B likes to keep track of them. (11/7/22) @ao3commentoftheday

“What took you so long?” (11/14/22) @ohisms

“Don’t break it.” (11/21/22) @love-me-a-good-prompt

“Better you than anyone else.” (11/28/22) @corvase

Character A and Character B go Christmas tree shopping. (12/5/22)

“I hate work Christmas parties. (12/12/22) @smackingtalk

“Oh .how convenient, some mistletoe.” (12/19/22) @smackingtalk

“You murdered my snowman.” (12/26/22) @smackingtalk

“Fuck it. Let’s get drunk.” (1/2/23) @smackingtalk

Character A reminds Character B about things they are likely to forget. (1/9/23) @littlewhispersofsolitude

“You know we are going to have to talk about this eventually, right?” (1/16/23) @ohisms

“What happened to us?” (1/23/23) @screnwriter

“Hand it over.” (1/30/23) @love-me-a-good-prompt

Character A kisses Character B goodbye and Character B can’t resist stealing one more kiss. (2/6/23) @screnwriter

“Are you going to kiss me?” (2/13/23)

“I never thought you’d ask.” (2/20/23) @screnwriter

“You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?” (2/27/23) @justlydiasworld

Character A slipping up and calling Character B “Babe” or another loving nickname. (3/6/23)

“I’m alright” (3/13/23) @love-me-a-good-prompt

“I may be okay, but I’m not fine at all.” (3/20/23) Taylor Swift

“I hate the crowds, you know that.” (3/27/23) Taylor Swift

Character A has an item of clothing (or similar) they absolutely adore. Character B absolutely abhors said item. (4/3/23)

“I think he knows.” (4/10/23) Taylor Swift

“You can make me a drink.” (4/17/23) Taylor Swift

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” (4/24/23)

Character A is annoyed, sure Character B has forgotten a very important date/anniversary... or have they? (5/1/23)

“I didn’t know you were keeping count.” (5/8/23)

“You’re wasting my time.” (5/15/23)

“Let’s get you fixed up.” (5/22/23) @love-me-a-good-prompt

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” (5/29/23) @ohisms

Character A has overslept and Character B wakes them up. (6/5/23)

“I’ve been up all night.” (6/12/23)

“It’s the last time I’m telling you this.” (6/19/23)

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” (6/26/23)

Character A and Character B would very much like to be affectionate (kiss, cuddle, hug, hold hands, etc), but something (or someone) is stopping them. (7/3/23)

“Bold of you to assume I would say yes.” (7/10/23) @promptspromptspromptsposts

“I’m pretty proud of us” (7/17/23) @novelbear

“I can see you.” (7/24/23) Taylor Swift

“Unless you don’t like me, in which case I take it back.” 7/31/23 @screnwriter

Character A is trying to get Character B up and out of bed, and Character B is trying very hard to ignore Character A. (8/7/23)

“I never wanted anything more.” (8/14/23)

“Do you remember?” (8/21/23)

“Are you sure?” (8/28/23)

Character A has a secret they feel is embarrassing. Character B finds out and thinks it’s brilliant. (9/4/23)

“The coast is clear.” (9/11/23) @love-me-a-good-prompt

“All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life.” (9/18/23) Taylor Swift

“You knew that.” (9/25/23) @love-me-a-good-prompt

Character A rests their head on Character B’s shoulder. (10/2/23)

“Can I come in?” (10/9/23) @ohisms

“I dreamed of you.” (10/16/23)

“Are we out of the woods?” (10/23/23)

“I’ve had too much to drink tonight” (10/30/23)

Character A is avoiding Character B. Character B wants to know why.” (11/6/23)

“Stop laughing at me.” (11/13/23)

“Welcome home.” (11/20/23)

“How many Advent calendars does a person need?” (11/27/23)

#mystrade monday prompt list #dialogue prompts #scenario prompts

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awrldalone · 2 years

Text

5th May 2022, 9.30pm

This entry is a continuation of the previous one. I felt too tired to keep writing, and my eyes were starting to close by themselves. It has been happening often, and I still have to understand why. I used to sleep less, last year, so why is my body always so tired? Pollens, anemia, who knows.

And so he kissed me. Once, twice, three times. I smiled and he smiled. His body was warm, comfortable. He had been holding me close to him, his arms wrapped around me, I could feel him hard and that excited me. It thrilled me to know his body liked me, desired me, and it made me happy that despite that he was controlling himself - being sweet - gentle - kind. He really is a kind person.

I climbed up his chest, where I had laid my head to listen to his heart, and I told him I wanted him to kiss me, because I have been wanting him to since the day I saw him walking towards me, his hair wet, a few hours before I had to leave Aix.

The ending credits started playing while we were too busy with each other, he closed the laptop and set it on the bedside table, leaving the blankets just for us.

He was not controlling, but he was certain, confident, he guided me in what I did, in how to kiss me. He taught me what he liked, he practiced what he liked on me to show me, kissing my neck, sucking, passing his tongue tenderly on my skin. He made me discover how sensitive I am, he made me realize that the sound of his breath near my ear made me want him.

And so I wanted him. I wanted him wanted him wanted me. Like a capricious child that wants what he wants, I wanted what I wanted, and what I wanted was him.

The lights were off, he asked if he could take off my shirt, and softly the fabric hit the floor and his mouth hit my skin, making electricity run through my spine.

His was already off, and I could see him lying underneath me: I thought that the lines of his body were pretty. His chest was defined, his nipples hard, his abs sketched on, his arms - I think about them and wish they were holding me - athletic. His curls like black brushstrokes on a white canvas. He smiled how he smiles and grabbed my waist, sending another shock down my back, and suddenly I was under him, and then I was on top again, and then under again.

He took off my pants, and my underwear, and for a second I was scared about my scars - but he did not mention them. His knuckles passed over my skin, with the fabric, tickling me. It aroused me, made me whimper.

And I kissed his chest, like he showed me, gently sucking at every kiss, making him grunt when my lips met his nipples.

Everything is burned in my mind in vivid reds, bright oranges, stark whites and deep blacks.

I took off his pants, then his boxers, he looked hot.

I explored him, the shaved dark hairs beginning to grow back, the pits and peaks of his body, the rhythm of his breath. It is quicker than mine, I tend to inhale and exhale for longer. And he explored me too, but while I was cautious, mapping uncharted territory, he moved surely, without hesitation, as if he knew my topography better than me.

He rained on my face, my hand on the clouds, my eyes to the sky admiring the sun.

Monday I skipped school for him.

After waking up, after sleeping one in the arms of the other, we cuddled, and cuddles lead to sex again. This time it was even better, because the fog of anxiety that held me back during the night had lifted. He was rougher, faster too.

By the time we were ready to leave, it was midday – so we went to my house.

We walked through the city center, all the stores closed because it was Monday morning. This city felt special with him. I felt special with him, happier.

I made some pasta, spaghetti al pomodoro, and he liked them a lot. We cuddled again, in my bed listening to music. He said he was cold, he said I could be his portable heater.

And then we went to Venice again, and walked a lot. We stooped at Nico’s for an ice cream, and walked all the way to St. Elena. He held my hand. He held my hand and I can still feel it in mine when I close my eyes. I can still feel his body on mine when I go to bed, and I wish he could bury me in his chest.

At eleven p.m., we left each other. We kissed near his hotel. We kissed again. I hope I will see him soon. I walked home, he walked to his room. His taste still in my mouth, like a pleasant piece of gum that leaves you fresh. He texted me saying my smell was still in his nostrils.

I miss him, I do I do.

-c.

#diary

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