#Learning To Smile;; Main Verse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yuebinnie · 20 days

Text

Proverbs 5:19

☾ Pairing : Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader

☆ Warnings : mdni. Priest!Alastor, implied chubby!reader, noncanon Alastor, dubcon, coercion, blasphemy, abuse of authority, blood kink, blood drinking, squirting, multiple orgasms, fingering (f receiving), cunnulingus, catholic prayers used in a sexual context, scriptures used to coerce, cum eating, size kink, loss of virginity (implied, not talked about), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, literally just smut

☾ WC : 9.8k

☆ A/N : Taking a break from Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea to write Alastor smut ^^ This contains heavy Christian imagery, so if it's something you are uncomfortable with, this fic might not be for you! I really enjoyed writing this; it's my first time writing smut for Alastor, so hopefully I do not disappoint you all. I also posted the fic on AO3, if you'd prefer reading there. Have fun!

There was something about going to church that felt incredibly soothing. The deafening silence every time you walked in during the early hours of the day, steps echoing against the painted ceiling and colourful rose window, the shadows dancing behind the burning wicks of the candles set on each side of the main aisle, the smell of dust dancing in the air like a reminder of how desolate the people who came to visit truly were. You had not always been religious, but you had found peace in believing that there was a divine truth, that being good in this life would give you eternal bliss.

The church was a small one, and an old one; how it was still standing you had no idea. It was annexed to a small decrepit churchyard with moss-covered headstones that dated from at least two centuries ago. To any passersby, it'd be believed to be abandoned, as the outside of the building was quite literally falling apart, the bricks slowly eroding and the tiles covering the roof covered with the same moss as the headstones. The exterior appearance did not matter however, only the inside did; that's where God resided after all.

Despite its age, the inside and of the church was well kept. Yes, the rose window was cracked, and, as an attempt to keep the place as pure as possible, electricity had never been installed. The candles did the job of keeping the inside lit, and as for the temperature, well, dressing warmly was mandatory during the colder months of the year. The benches were old and the varnish that had once covered them was long gone; dents and chips could be found here and there, but they were still sturdy. The altar was small and simple, a wooden thing settled on a small stage that hovered only a few inches above the floor. Near the entrance sat a confessional which reeked of mould, but in the absolute presence of God, the smell was easily forgotten.

You had a habit of going to pray most days when you were not bedridden from the exhaustion of spending the night reading your favourite verses. 5 AM; the perfect time to pray, just as the world welcomed the sun's warmth and light. Very rarely did you meet anyone else; it had happened a few times, mostly old people nearing death coming to ask for absolution for their sins. Otherwise, the only person you had seen was the priest, whom you only had spoken to once or twice. He would look at you while you kneeled and mumbled prayers and verses, a smile plastered on his face.

It was the only downside of it all, that unsettling presence. The priest, a handsome man you had apologized to God for finding attractive, was always smiling. It was a bone-chilling sight; it made you feel as though he could see right through you, like he had access to every single thought that cluttered the inside of your mind. He had asked for your name once and had told you to have a 'delightful rest of the day'. That day had turned out to be horrible, as you had learned your grandmother was diagnosed with stage four cancer and only had a few months left. You had prayed for her, but God had decided to take her, nonetheless. Your subconscious had linked the priest's words as a direct cause of your grandmother's tragic diagnosis, and you had tried your best to avoid talking to him ever since.

When you woke up that morning, sweaty and feeling stickiness between your thighs, you felt sick to your stomach remembering the dreams that had plagued your mind in your slumber. A faceless man, dragging his lips down your stomach, his fingers touching your body in a way that was so sinful; the only logical explanation was that you had been visited by an incubus, an agent of evil. God was testing you, letting evil reach you to see if you'd be as faithful as Job or if you'd succumb to sin like Eve had. You cleaned yourself and changed your nightgown to proper clothes, putting a slightly warm coat on before leaving your house.

The sun had not yet started to show itself, and a thick fog floated above the quiet streets. The sky was covered with grey clouds that seemed to hang low, you wondered if you could touch them if you reached up, but your mind was too preoccupied with your predicament to try and touch something so close to Heaven. Mind running faster than a hare trying to escape a wolf, you tried to convince yourself simple prayers would do, but a loud voice kept coming back, telling you this could only be forgiven by confessing. The thought of having to talk to the priest whom you had convinced yourself was the catalyst of your grandmother's death made you want to cry, but the thought of failing God and disappointing Him was far more upsetting. You reached the church as the first rays of light made the dew covering the Earth glisten, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open.

Your eyes fell upon the priest, who was bent down in the middle of the aisle, a long match in his hand as he lit the candles up. You froze, your eyes running across his shoulders and back. The door closed loudly behind you, and you jumped; the man's head snapped in your direction, his smile growing when he saw who had just walked in.

"You are quite early today, my dear," the priest stated simply, his focus going back to the unlit candles that still begged to melt under the burning flames. "Luckily enough, our Creator does not sleep; we're under scrutiny every second of our time on this earth."

You gulped at the words, the implications they held. You crept closer to the man, fidgeting as you thought of what to say. You let out a small quiet sigh, biting down your bottom lip as you stopped and stood a few feet away from him. The man straightened up and turned in your direction, his head tilted to the left as his gaze travelled across your face, "Oh my, whatever has you this upset?"

Your cheeks flushed as your eyes shifted from his eyes to the floor, the shame of what you had yet to confess weighing down your shoulders like the cross your Saviour had carried through heat and pain. You felt tiny, the priest towering over you; he had to be close to two feet taller than you. Had this been how Lucifer felt when he was at last pushed to meet his fate in the depths, a force greater than all administrating the final judgment? Sinfully powerless, a mere weak being? Tears gathered at your lower lash lines as you spoke, oh so quietly, your voice like the echo of an echo, "Father, I have sinned."

Seconds passed, silent ones, before the man hummed and walked past you, making his way to the front of the church. You twirled around, your eyes landing on where the priest now stood, in front of the old rotting confessional. You gulped, nodding to no one in particular before slowly making your way to the man who was stepping into the booth, the door closing behind him. You did the same, slowly closing the door after giving the empty church one last look, your eyes lingering a few seconds on the nailed Christ resting behind the altar, seemingly judging you.

You sat down, cringing at the creaking of the wood beneath your weight. The grille was pulled up, the silhouette of the man on the other side vaguely distinguishable. You took a deep breath, then spoke softly as you brought your right hand to your forehead, the gesture almost instinctual, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen." You put your hand on your thigh, staring at the unmoving priest, "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It is.... too much time, since my last confession. I am a university student, in my last year to obtain a bachelor's degree." A low hum was heard, and you shifted in your seat, trying to find the exact words for your confession.

"Father, something terrible happened last night. In my weakened sleeping state, evil befell me. I was plagued with sinful dreams. You must understand, I am thoroughly devoted to Christ and our Lord, never have I let a man, or anyone, disgrace the body I was given; never have I had thoughts or dreams of this kind. I fear my will is not strong enough, that this evil shall come back and torment me. I fear I will fall into sin, just as our first predecessors did. I am nothing but willing, Father, so please, do help me. I am sorry for all these sins, and the sins of my past life."

You sniffled, wiping away the tears that had fallen down your rosy cheeks, your eyes glued on the silhouette of the man beyond the grille. His silence made you want to cry even more; were you a lost case? Had your fate already been sealed, your soul now tainted because of the touch of evil in such sacred places? You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you waited, seconds becoming minutes.

"This evil you speak of, what exactly has it done to you?" His voice seemed to have dropped lower, the sound a bit raspier. You furrowed your brow slightly at the question; you had been clear about the incident. As if feeling your hesitation, the priest continued, "Ma chère, only by knowing exactly what this evil put you through can I give you absolution."

You felt a blush creep up your neck, and flinched as the crack of thunder was heard beyond the church walls; your heartbeat quickened, was this Him telling you to obey?

You let out a small breath, before speaking up, the words shaky, "As I slept, this evil... Entered my dreams. It took advantage of my defenselessness. It disgraced my soul and my body. Upon waking up, there was... Remains of the sinful things it had my body do." You could feel the man's stare on you despite the grille separating you, causing yours to drop to your knees, feeling vulnerable.

"What sinful things did it inflict upon you?" Rain had started falling, as if the sky itself cried for you; the sound of it hammered against the roof, a continuous wail of grief for your poor soul.

"Father, I don't understand how this is necessa-"

"Do you not want absolution? Do you desire to be locked out of His kingdom? The choice is yours," his tone was harsher, demanding, even. You gulped and shook your head; no, that was not what you wanted. It was the furthest thing from it.

"I apologize for questioning your words, Father," you began, fidgeting with the hem of your coat, "From what I can remember... This evil took the shape of a man. A faceless man. I was in bed, and it joined me, and... We, uh, we kissed. It took my nightgown off." Your hands felt clammy, and you couldn't help but press your thighs together as you recollected the events of your dreams. "It kissed my breasts, then my stomach. It went... Down there, and stayed there until my whole body tensed up. Afterwards, it pushed itself inside me, it thoroughly disgraced my body. When I woke up, my body showed signs that it had reacted to the defiling. Father, please, believe me when I tell you that I was coerced by evil."

Thunder was heard again, breaking the silence that had settled between you and the priest. As the minutes passed, you became uneasy; was the man disgusted with you? Could he sense the sins radiating from your being? He cleared his throat, breaking your train of thought. Your eyes went back to his silhouette, waiting for him to speak up.

"I fear this is beyond the power bestowed upon me, dear," his voice was silky, it made warmth spread inside your chest, as if the vibrations it had created affected your very cells.

Your eyes widened; that was impossible. You had confessed and explained the evil that had haunted you. You had done exactly what He told His followers to do, confessed and asked for forgiveness. You shuffled closer to the grille, tearing up as you begged, "Father, please, there must be a way. I will do anything; I will suffer just like our Saviour has if it's what it takes. I'm supplying you, help me get rid of this evil."

“Very well,” the man said. You watched as his silhouette stood up and opened the door of the booth before it disappeared. The door of your little chamber opened, and you turned your head to look at the tall priest, who adjusted his glasses as he stared down at you. You took a few seconds to really look at him. Despite his smile that made shivers run down your spine, the man was handsome. His skin was tan, his hair dark and styled in an old-fashioned way. His features were sharp, intimidating, almost. Towering over you, his shoulders were wider than some quarterbacks’, and his waist was ridiculously small compared to them. His hands seemed to be twice the size of yours, and you found yourself wondering how he managed to button up his shirts with such big hands.

You looked back at his face as you blushed, realizing the man before you knew of your body in such intimate ways. You slowly stood up as you held his gaze, unsure of what to say next. He took a step aside and gestured for you to step out of the confessional, before closing the door behind you. The priest smiled down at you, “Follow me, dear.”

He started walking down the aisle, the flames of the candles on each side of it dancing as he passed by. You hesitantly followed him, looking out one of the small windows to see the rain pouring onto the world as lightning illuminated the sky. He stopped at the altar and turned to you, his smile ever present. You stopped in front of the stage; sinners did not belong anywhere close to that sacred place. The man stayed silent and with a gesture of his hand, permitted you to step up. You gulped and got on the stage, feeling extremely out of place.

“There is one way for you to repent,” he began, his stare fixed on you, “Though it is a bit unorthodox. The choice is yours, but you must remember that there is no place for sinners in Heaven.” He watched as you nodded quickly; you were eager to be forgiven, to go back to being free of sin. The corner of his lips twitched before he uttered one word, “Strip.”

Your eyes widened as your face turned a deeper shade of crimson. Stripping? You searched his face for hints of dishonesty, hoping he was playing a sick joke on you, but to your dismay, he was serious. Your body was frozen as you looked at him, not even the booming thunder making you flinch.

You opened your mouth to ask why, but the man beat you to it, answering your question before you even uttered a word, “Only by showing Him precisely how this evil tainted you can you be absolved. There is no need to be shy, ma chérie; isn’t He all-knowing? All-seeing? Wasn’t the shame of nudity created by His first creations’ sin? There is no purer form of devotion than to go beyond the embarrassment and bare yourself to Him; than to accept the vulnerable nature of your existence.”

He brought his right hand up to lay it flat against the wooden altar, observing you as you fought an inner battle with your dignity. His words were true, the wisdom of a man devoted to God, of someone who knew scriptures and their meaning. As if feeling your unmoving incertitude, he spoke up once again, “Proverbs 28:13.”

You blinked up at him, mind searching for the verse you had read many times before. You licked your bottom lip with your tongue before reciting softly, “He who covers his sins will not prosper, but whoever confesses and forsakes them will have mercy.” The priest hummed, and you raised your gaze to the crucifix hung on the wall behind the altar, feeling as if He was patiently waiting for you to submit to His will. You puffed out a small breath as you nodded to yourself, a hand coming up to the zipper of your coat, slowly bringing it down to then shrug off the piece of clothing and letting it fall on the floor.

You could already feel the wet cold seep through your thin sweater, but you ignored the feeling as you grabbed the bottom of it and lifted it up until it was completely off you; it dropped, finding its place next to your coat at your feet. Your eyes were unfocused, staring into thin air as you slipped your thumbs under the elastic band of your skirt, pushing it down so it pooled at your ankles. You stepped out of it, getting slightly closer to the priest whose gaze was burning your skin despite the goosebumps covering it. You brought a hand to your back, unclasping your bra before slowly taking it off, baring your breasts to the man. Your nipples hardened as the freezing air licked them and you bit hard down your bottom lip as you slid your underwear down your legs, then stepped out of your shoes, leaving you only wearing your lace-arbored anklets.

The man lifted a hand in your direction, a silent request for you to grab it. You did so all while avoiding looking up at him and followed him as he made his way behind the altar, his fingers squeezing yours slightly, “Our Lord blessed you with rare beauty, dear one, what a shame it led evil to you.” You gasped softly as his other hand wrapped around your waist, your eyes shooting up to look at him. He was still smiling, though his eyes seemed clouded with something you could not put your finger on.

He let go of your hand and grabbed the other side of your waist before effortlessly hoisting you up on the altar, the skin of your ass stinging from the cold of the wooden surface. Your gaze was questioning, and the man recited, his voice low and quieter than it had previously been, “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.” You gaped at him; a true man of God, that’s what he was. “Offer your body to Him, and you shall be absolved. Show Him what evil has done to you, so He can forgive and make you pure again,” he held your stare, his pupils slightly dilated. You nodded once, and the priest stepped aside, leaving you to face your Saviour in your naked glory.

You slowly leaned back, using your left elbow to not completely lie down on the wood. You brought your trembling right hand to your lips, the tip of your index finger stroking the pink flesh as you recalled where the lips of the faceless man had touched you. They lingered there for a few seconds before dipping to your neck, dancing around the column of your throat as your eyes fluttered shut; if goosebumps had not already been covering your body fault of the moist cold, they would have appeared, the feeling titillating. Your chest rose and fell in a timely rhythm as you dragged your touch to your breasts where your finger gently caressed your right nipple. Your lips parted, small breaths making their way out as you gathered with your small hand the heavy fat of your breast, squeezing. You could feel the stare of the priest on you, but you attempted to ignore it as you kept going.

Your fingers went down your stomach, using your nails to slightly scratch the skin, and they stopped a few inches below your belly button. You opened your eyes and looked at the crucifix; His peaceful expression, despite being nailed and in pain, gave you courage and you spread your legs, giving your Saviour the perfect view of your most intimate era. You nibbled on your bottom lip as you slowly brought your fingers down, choking on a soft moan when they made contact with your clit. The simple touch made your composure fall a little, your lips parted as your face reddened, feeling more exposed than you had ever felt before. You gently pushed against the bundle of nerves, gasping as your fingers started to move, following a small eight-pattern.

You could feel your heartbeat thundering against your ribcage, matching the loud striking of the heavenly fire against the earth beyond the safety of the church walls. Soft pants left your mouth as you started working on yourself, closing your eyes to focus on the memories of the previous night. Every touch and stroke were vividly drawn in your mind, your fingers moving in an almost instinctual way, leaving you a whimpering mess. You moved your elbow that was holding your weight, slowly leaning your back against the cold wood, before bringing the now free hand to your face, covering your mouth with it as your thighs trembled. Your body was thrumming, humming with new sensations, your mind as foggy as the early morning that had welcomed you when you had stepped out of your home.

Lost in pleasure, you jumped, your eyes shooting open as you felt long fingers wrap around your wrist, the priest looking down at you, his own eyes sharper and darker than they had been earlier. Your fingers nestled between your thighs stopped moving as you stared at him, but he tsked, “My dear, you must not hide anything from Him. These lovely, sinful sounds you make, are not to be repressed. Let them be; let Him hear what evil inflicted upon you,” his voice sent a chill down your spine, your back arching slightly. You watched as the corner of his lips twitched and let him pull your hand away from your mouth, gulping as you nodded weakly. “Good girl.”

Your breath hitched at the praise, eyes not leaving his’ as your fingers started to move once again, bringing your legs up to rest your heels against the altar, spreading your legs a bit more. As if in a trance, your gaze fixed on the priest as you moaned and gasped, your hips twitching as you rubbed your clit. You saw his Adam’s apple bob, his eyes narrowing as you used your free hand to caress the skin of your stomach, slowly inching towards your left breast. Your fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance, and with a bite on your bottom lip and a pinch of your nipple, you pushed your middle finger all the way to the second knuckle, your eyes widening at the feeling. You let out a throaty whine, pressing your head harder against the wooden surface that supported your weight. The cold was long forgotten, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat, muscles spasming here and there.

You slid your other hand between your thighs, the digits quickly finding your clit and gently stimulating it as you managed to push your finger further inside yourself. The faceless man from your dreams had used three fingers, and you could only wonder how your dream self had taken them, as you were struggling with a lonely, short finger. Despite the uncomfortable feeling, you bit down your lip and pushed your index alongside the finger that was already pressed inside you. Your face scrunched up at the stretch, a silent sob echoing through the dimly lit space. You felt your walls clench around your digits, your free hand still working on your clit as a way to make the dull ache more bearable. You waited a minute, giving your body time to adjust to the feeling, before carefully pulling the fingers out and thrusting them back in, a surprised whimper leaving your lips as a new feeling started to blossom in your lower stomach.

You arched your back and started speeding up the motion of your hands, unable to keep quiet as your body grew warmer and more tense. Your eyes fluttered open to look up at the priest, who was as still as Christ watching you from His cross on the wall. As you exhaled, you pushed a third finger in, welcoming the stretch with a high-pitched whine. Your knees dropped down onto the altar, leaving your womanhood fully exposed; you watched as the man glanced at where your hands were working in tandem to replicate almost exactly what the evil from your dream had done to you. You gathered the little concentration you had left and started muttering through gasps and moans, “Compassionate Father, you are the Lord who rescues His people. When I am overwhelmed with shame, help me find solace in you. You have said that you will help—though my sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are as red as crimson, they shall be like wool. Remind me that I have been purified by you, that the curse of sin and evil is no longer upon me. In your powerful name, Ame-” You were cut off by a large hand wrapping around your lower face, the feeling making your body jolt.

Right, it had to be the same as the dream; you had not uttered a prayer in it, far from it. You closed your eyes, moaning against the palm covering your mouth, as you focused on the growing tension in your core. Every second felt like minutes and every minute felt like hours as you quickly thrust your fingers in and out, all while you rubbed and nudged your clit. The pressure was almost unbearable, your whole body twitching as your hips tried to follow the movements of your digits as if they had a mind of their own. The priest moved his hand away, and you opened your eyes to watch him bring it to his mouth where he licked his palm, which was covered with your drool.

Something snapped inside of you and a loud sob made its way out of your throat as your muscles tensed up, your walls clenching tightly around your fingers as you stilled them, your mind unable to think about anything beyond the blinding pleasure that took over your body. Your eyes rolled back, pitiful sounds leaving your mouth as your back arched from the altar, your thighs squeezing together, trapping your hands between them. This felt so much better than it had felt in your dream. You teared up; the Lord’s love was so strong; evil could not even compare.

After a few seconds, your body relaxed, and you were left panting and sweaty, as if you had just run a marathon. Slowly opening your eyes, your vision became clearer as you blinked, a smile tugging at your lips as you looked at the crucifix, then up to the priest who had not moved. You removed your hands from between your thighs and brought your left one up to wipe the pearls of sweat on your forehead with the back of it. You wrapped your right arm around your chest, trying to hide your breasts as you spoke up, your voice small but hoarse, “Have I done it, Father? Am I free of sin? Has our Lord given me absolution?” Hope lingered; you had done what you were told to do, you had been good, and your Lord was good and forgiving, He had to have seen how faithful you were.

The man’s eyebrows raised before he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head slightly, “My dear, this was only your confession. The truest and purest form of confession.” Your smile dropped. You looked at him as he made his way closer to the wall, where he stopped in front of the crucifix that had observed you as you worked on yourself. His chin tilted up as he looked at it, before his head slowly turned to look at you, “But confession is not enough for this type of sin, sadly; you must also be cleansed.”

You sat up, your brows furrowed, watching as the man stepped closer to you. He stood in front of you, his right hand coming to rest on your thigh, just above your knee. His touch was warm and inviting, but you still wondered what his words meant, so you asked, “Cleansed?”

His thumb stroked your skin as he hummed and brought his other hand up to your shoulder, pushing your hair behind it, “Yes, dearest, cleansed. Your body was defiled by evil, it must be purified. You’ve shown our Lord and Saviour how, and now He shall reclaim your body as His’.” You looked at him, your eyes round and big, trying to make sense of the words that had just been spoken. A small pout appeared on your lips, and the tall priest bent down, his face now closer to yours as he said, his voice slightly louder than a whisper, “You are so easy to read, you know? But to ease your confusion; I shall represent our Lord and make you pure again.”

You froze, the realization of what the man meant hitting you just like David’s stone had hit Goliath. You gaped at him, your mouth opening and closing, searching your brain for the right words to speak, afraid to insult God and the man who stood before you. You gulped and said after taking in a deep breath, “Our Lord… I cannot think of mentions of this procedure in the scriptures,” you blinked, your eyes shining as you looked into his’. “Father, has this procedure been tested before? Where does it come from?”

His long fingers dug into the fat of your thigh as you saw the muscle of his jaw clench, a small whimper leaving your lips at the feeling. He kept squeezing, his creepy smile growing, “Are you implying my authority was not given to me by our Lord? That my will does not stem from His’? That I would go against scriptures, something I have devoted my life to?” You shook your head quickly; you had messed up. You were to never question the words of a priest, for he was much closer to God than you were, and you had done just that. This evil needed to leave; it made you do, think and say things that would only make you unworthy of Heaven.

“Father, do forgive me! This evil, it has taken control of my body and sou-”

“There’s no need for that. I shall make your sins a purest white than Abraham’s sacrificial lamb. You will be reborn a new woman, utterly sinless,” he inched his hand higher on your thigh, “That is what you want, isn’t it? To let your God make you pure again?” You gave him a slow nod and his smile widened as he brought his free hand to his face, removing his glasses and putting them on the altar next to you. He nudged your knees open and settled between them, sliding a hand against the back of your head as he sang praise to you, “What a good girl you are, ma chère.”

His lips smashed against yours and you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to follow his lead. The hand resting on your thigh slid to your waist and forced you to get closer to him, his chest pressing against your naked breasts. You moaned into the kiss, pictures of your dream flooding your mind, causing you to wrap your legs around his tiny waist and arms around his neck. You ran your fingers through his hair, letting the man run his tongue along your bottom lip, your mouth opening slightly in response. His kisses travelled down your chin, to your throat, his teeth nipping at your skin as you let your head fall back, giving him better access.

His mouth slid to your chest, and you lowered your chin to look down at him as he wrapped his swollen lips around your left nipple. You grabbed a handful of his hair and pressed him closer to you, arching your back slightly. His eye shot up to look at you, humming against your skin, the vibration leaving you a whimpering mess. He separated from your pink, wet bud with a last lick, smiling as he flicked your other nipple with his thumb, “So eager for absolution, aren’t you?” Your soft pants were interrupted with a small gulp as you nodded once again; there was nothing you wanted more. He ran a hand up and down your thigh before grabbing it and removing it from his waist, doing the same motion with the other one a few seconds later. You silently watched as he kneeled, his face a few inches away from your exposed core. The sight made your heart skip a beat.

Something caught your eyes on the wall, and you looked up, seeing a rainbow light up the crucifix hung on the wall; the rain and thunder had dissipated as suddenly as they had appeared, and sun rays were beaming through the colourful tainted glass of the rose window at the entrance of the church. A small smile tugged at your lips, this had to be a sign you were on the right path. You bit down your bottom lip and gazed down, seeing the priest eyeing your womanhood, a hungry look on his face. Your cheeks reddened as you waited for the man to do something.

He slowly inched closer, and let his nose nudge your puffy clit, causing you to gasp softly at the feeling. You felt something warm run up and down your slit, your grip on his hair tightening as he flattened his tongue against your entrance. Your brows knitted, a small noise leaving your lips as he started to move his wet appendage up and down, moving his head slightly as he did so to get his nose to bump against your clit with each lick. His hands went to your ass, and he brought you even closer to his face; you wondered how he could even breathe.

Your mind started to wander as pleasure slowly took over your limbs; was the man between your legs mistaking you for a wine-filled chalice? The slurping noises his mouth was making against you travelled through your body and rendered you dizzy. You pushed his hair back from his forehead and his eyes shot open to look up at you as his fingers dug into the fat of your ass. His pupils were dilated to the point that you could barely see his iris and there was wetness spreading on his cheeks and nose. Lips parted, you sighed and slightly scratched his scalp with your nails, leaving the man groaning as his stare was still fixed on your face. One of his hands made its way down your thigh and disappeared from your view before it reappeared; a dainty wooden-beaded rosary was dangling from his fingers.

The priest took his mouth away from you, a wide smirk painting his lips as he grabbed your wrist and dropped the prayer beads in your much smaller palm. His other hand came forward and started stroking the skin of your inner thigh as he wrapped his long digits around yours, forcing you to hold the rosary. He licked his bottom lip before speaking up, “You know how this works, don’t you?” His smile grew as he watched you nod, “Perfect. Recite them in your head, except the Five Decades; you must recite those aloud. It’s Thursday, so Luminous Mysteries. Whatever your Lord has planned next and does to you, you must keep going, understood?” You nodded again but he shook his head, “Use your words, dearest.”

“I understand, Father,” you said, your voice small.

The man hummed and let go of your hand, dropping it to your other thigh, massaging the skin there as well. His gaze dropped to where your thumb moved to make the Sign of the Cross on the small crucifix pendant. You closed your eyes as you started reciting the Apostles’ Creed, surrendering your body to the faithful man kneeling before you. His lips pressed against you as you finished the first prayer, your finger moving to the first bead. He fell into a now familiar rhythm, leaving you incapable of staying silent as you breathed out soft moans. Something prodded at your entrance and slowly slipped in as you fell back against the altar with a thud. You arched your back as it kept going, much deeper than you had reached with your fingers. It pumped in and out a few times before the man added a second finger, the pressure and stretch making you whimper.

His tongue kept alternating between sucking on and flicking your clit as you busied yourself with prayers. The priest hummed against you before removing himself; you opened your eyes and lifted your head from the wooden surface, eyes widening when you saw blood on his chin and bottom lip. He removed his fingers from you and showed them to you; they were bloody too. You stared at him silently, uncertain of what to say, but he broke the silence, “See what the evil has left in you? Aren’t you so lucky your Lord is ever so forgiving? That he’s cleaning you up to make you free of sin?” You nodded and bit the inside of your cheek. His eyes were gleaming as his fingers went to your lower stomach, smearing the blood on your skin, which made goosebumps appear.

You studied his face, his sharp, dark hooded eyes were staring at you under his defined eyebrows, his plump lips were stretched in a smile; his tanned cheeks and chin were coated with a sheening coat of your wetness and blood. His hair was now messy—your doing—and his fingers were slowly making their way back to your slit. Without thinking about it, you reached out and cupped his cheek with your free hand, rubbing your thumb against his bottom lip. His tongue darted out to lick your digit as his fingers sank back in you, knocking the breath out of you. Your eyes closed shut as you gasped, your hand falling from his face to rest on your hip. You heard him laugh under his breath before the warmth of his mouth was back on you. Your mind reminded you of the rosary you were holding, and you started reciting the Hail Mary.

As you neared the end of the Glory Be, you felt the man add another finger, the stretch making your eyes tear up as you mewled weakly. The words of the prayer passed in your mind, disappearing as he started to thrust them in and out. Your walls clenched tightly around his digits as your chest rose and fell quickly, panting as your body tried to get adjusted to the burning feeling.

Your fingers landed on the first Decade, and you gathered all your strength to start reciting the prayer, your voice shaky, “Then Jesus came to Galilee to the Jordan to John, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying ‘I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?’ But Jesus answered him, ‘Let it be so now; for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.’ Then he consented.” You were interrupted by a yelp as you felt the priest’s teeth grazing your clit, your free hand landing in his hair, gripping it. Your hips kept twitching as you kept going, stuttering through the words, “And when Jesus was baptized, he went up immediately from the water, and behold, the heavens were opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and alighting on him; and lo, a voice from heaven, saying, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.’”

The drag of the man’s fingers had turned pleasurable, and you felt your muscles tense up, the feeling in your lower stomach rapidly growing. You pushed on the back of his head, searching for more friction, and you moaned out loudly when he started mumbling against your clit as his fingers kept moving, “Oh my Jesus, forgive me of my sins, save us from the fires of hell; lead all souls to Heaven, especially those who have most need of your mercy.” You could not register the words but the movements of his lips on you made you come undone, your back arching from the altar as your thighs trapped his head in place, your hips lifting to follow his fingers and urge him to press his tongue harder against you. Your every muscle tensed up, crying out as the waves of your orgasm hit you just like the Red Sea had crashed into the Egyptians as He closed its parting. You spasmed around him, your walls trying to push his fingers out, and you felt wetness drip down your ass.

He separated from your clit, kissing it softly as he removed his digits from you, slowly standing up as you cracked your eyes open, your body still jolting randomly as it calmed down from your high. The light coming from the rose window had moved, and from your angle, it looked like a halo surrounding the priest’s head; a breathtaking sight that had you gape in awe. You watched as he tugged at the collar of his shirt, taking his Roman collar off and letting it fall to his feet. Your wetness was dripping from his lips which were harbouring a soft smile, his hands moving unhurriedly to unbutton his cassock. His eyes travelled up and down your spent body, then to the rosary you had forgotten you were still holding; you clenched your fingers around it and moved to a new bead, your lips moving silently as you recited the Hail Mary in your mind.

You kept your eyes on his hands as they reached the last button, the man shrugging off the black piece of clothing, revealing he was wearing a white tank top and black pants underneath it. You gulped at the true size of his shoulders; you had thought his cassock gave the illusion he was large, but even with it off, he looked huge. The smallness of his waist only accentuated how massive the built of the priest was. He had muscles but they were lean; despite it all, he looked strong and exuded a masculine aura that had you squirming in place.

Your observations were interrupted by his voice, “Do you feel like the weight of your sin has lessened, ma chère?” You dipped your chin once; you did feel lighter. The man grinned wider as his hands wrapped around your waist, bringing your torso up effortlessly so you were now sitting. He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning over so his lips pressed against the shell of your ear, whispering, “You did so well, dear, you’re almost as pure as the day you were born. There’s only a step left in this procedure, but it will hurt at first.” He pressed a hand on the back of your head and pushed forward, forcing you to bury your face in the crook of his neck. You inhaled and felt his fingers massage your scalp gently.

He smelled so intoxicating; a mixture of moss, rain, coffee, tobacco and a hint of something floral emitted from his skin. You realized you had pressed your lips against the man’s neck when you felt him tense up, his hand stilling in your hair. You backed away slightly, blushing so brightly you were grateful he could not see your face, muttering an apology. His body relaxed again, and he hummed, “There’s no need for apologies. Bite down my shoulder—don’t be scared to bite hard—it will make you focus on something else.”

You opened your mouth to ask what he meant but pressed your lips together when you heard a zipper, followed by the shuffling of clothes between your bodies. You brought your hands to his chest, the rosary still in your hand, fingers fidgeting with the beads as you felt one of his large and cold hands spread your thighs a little further apart. You felt his fingers run up and down your slit and you gasped at the feeling, your nails slightly digging into the muscles of his chest. A wet sound travelled up to your ears and you closed your eyes, a shiver running down your spine when you felt a hand drop to your hip, kneading the fat there, and his voice, now a low murmur, “Bite down.”

You barely had the time to process the words that you felt pressure against your entrance which ceded, your walls wrapping around something so thick you shrieked before sinking your teeth into the man’s shoulder. It felt like you were being split in half; the thickness slowly forced its way inside you as tears gathered at your lower lash lines before they dripped down your cheeks. You bit down harder and pulled away quickly when you felt iron-tasting warmth coat the inside of your mouth, but the hand still in your hair pushed you against the bleeding bite mark, the priest almost growling, “Bite, and drink. At this moment, I am God; I am Christ. His blood is mine, and my blood is His’. Savour, dear one, and let me cleanse you inside out.” You let out a shaky breath before sinking your teeth back in his flesh, your brows knitting as he pushed his length an inch deeper inside you, “So obedient.”

You let the blood fill your mouth and swallowed, cringing at the taste but unwilling to go against Heavenly orders. Your arms snaked around his waist as he kept slowly pushing himself into you. The pain was unbearable, but your mind went to Christ, and how much he had suffered for the sins of all; the ache between your legs was a pinch compared to what he had endured, so you toughened up and let your tongue lap at the blood. Your brain felt foggy, and you could only take it as a sign that it was your body reacting to being filled with the divine energy pouring out from the priest. His length reached deeper than his fingers had, and you wondered how much of it you had left to take in.

You soon had your answer, the man stilling as his pelvis pressed against yours; he was so deep in you, stretching you so wide. Your mouth detached from his neck, and you pressed your forehead against his skin, panting loudly as you tried your best to relax your walls around him. The hand that was in your hair made its way to your waist, squeezing gently as you felt his lips press against your ear once again, “Your Lord is so pleased with you; you’re taking his cock so well. You’ll be redeemed in no time.” He slowly pulled out, leaving only his tip in, before thrusting in you at a medium speed, leaving you sobbing against his neck. It was overwhelming, the feeling of his length rubbing your inside and the warmth spreading in your chest, God’s love making you burn up. The feeling started to transform from pain to pleasurable pressure, your pained cries turning into needy moans.

You had managed to reach the tenth Hail Mary in your mind, your fingers reaching the second Decade. You whimpered out the beginning of the Second Luminous Mystery, “On the third day there was a marriage at Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there; Jesus also was invited to the marriage, with his disciples.” The priest started moving faster, his hips meeting yours at a much quicker speed; you whined as his tip hit a certain spot inside you, the rosary dropping on the floor as you dug your nails into the man’s shoulder blades. You could not concentrate on anything other than the drag of his length against your walls, panting and gasping each time he bottomed out.

He slightly pulled away from your body and looked down at you, his hips still moving as he brought a hand to grab your jaw from under, forcing you to look at him. He eyed you before crashing his lips against yours, moaning as he tasted his blood in your mouth. You slid your hands up to his hair, tugging at it and scratching his scalp as your teeth clashed together, tongues dancing. You pressed your chest closer to his’ and sighed as your nipples rubbed against his tank top, the feeling sending electric shocks to your core. You parted away from his lips, catching your breath, and your eyes opened and landed on the crucifix watching you; you smiled softly—oh how good was His clemency. Your gaze went back to the priest who was slightly panting, his lower face covered in blood—just like yours— as he smirked at you, sliding his hand to your cheek, stroking the skin tenderly.

In half a second, he pulled out and manhandled you, so you were now bent over the altar, your breasts pressed against the wooden surface as your feet dangled in the air, his large hands holding you up. His knee nudged your legs open wider and you felt him slip back inside you, the new position bringing a different sensation. His hips met your ass, and he started thrusting into you eagerly, loud smacks echoing through the church. You held yourself up on your elbows, holding your head up as you looked at the front door; if someone were to walk in, they would see the priest cleansing you, a Godsent blessing.

Your elbows started to tremble, and the man noticed; he slid a hand below your stomach and hoisted you up against his chest, your back pressed against him. He held you up, his arms wrapped around you as his pelvis smacked against your ass, your feet dangling one foot above the floor. He slid a hand down, his fingers running down your slit, groaning as he felt where you two were connected. He ran them up again and pushed his middle finger against your puffy clit, gently rubbing it as he kept working himself in and out of you. Your head fell back on his shoulder, and he took the opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, kissing and nibbling at the skin.

You truly never had felt anything like this; if you had been a fool, you’d have thought you were glowing from how fulfilled you felt. The familiar tension grew in your lower stomach, lewd noises leaving your mouth as the man dug the fingers of his other hand into your flesh, holding you closer to him as his movements became erratic. His groans and grunts were sending shivers down your back, only adding to the multitudes of sensations you were currently drowning in. As if he could feel you were close to reaching your orgasm, he mumbled against your neck, “Let go, ma chérie. Let evil leave your body, let God replace it with goodness.”

Your breath hitched and with a few more nudges on your clit, the pressure building inside you snapped. Your vision went white as you came, the feeling different from your previous releases. Even through the waves of pleasure, you could feel something drip down your thighs and could hear squelches as the priest kept thrusting his length in you. Your mouth was open, silent cries leaving your throat as you clenched tightly around the man. You felt his lips move against your neck, but you were too lost in feelings to understand what he was saying.

Your tensed-up muscles slowly relaxed as the remains of your orgasm washed over your body. You whimpered as the man kept moving, your core feeling overstimulated by his length still burying itself inside your sensitive walls. He quickly pushed your front back against the altar, grabbing your hips as he moved both his hips and yours in sync, your nails digging into the wood as your ass smacked against him. His thrusts were harsh and fast, leaving you breathless; tears were streaming down your cheeks at the delightful ache.

His hips stilled, his length buried deep inside you, as he groaned lowly. You felt your inside be flooded with warmth, whining as you dropped your forehead against the wooden surface, the cold of it grounding you. You were panting, the warmth creating a pleasant pressure inside your core as the priest rubbed his thumbs over your Venus dimples. He stayed inside you for a few more seconds, before easing out of you, leaving you feeling empty. He once again manhandled you so you were now sitting facing him, holding your limp body up as he dragged a hand up your moist thigh, grinning, “See this wetness? It was the remains of evil leaving your body.” His hand reached your slit and he gathered a sticky white substance on his fingers, bringing his hand up close to your lips, “And this is goodness. Do remember, my dear, your sins are scarlet and they shall be as white as snow.”

You gaped at him; he truly was a man of God. He pushed his fingers past your lips, and you let him, wrapping them around his digits as your tongue licked at the goodness. The taste was bitter, but as your eyes met his’, all you could think about was how caring and selfless the man standing in front of you was. You had come to him, worrying about your purity, and he had completely cleansed you of sin and given you his own God-gifted goodness, not asking anything in return. He removed his fingers from your mouth and brushed your cheek with the back of his index, his smile not faltering, “What is this look you are giving me?”

You blinked a few times, your cheeks flushing as you realized you had been staring, “Father, I must thank you. My body and soul were barren, and you made them anew again. I do not know how I could ever repay you.” His eyes narrowed at your words, his hand reaching to grab his glasses before he put them on and ran a hand through his hair. It dropped to your thigh and drew shapes on there, his gaze not leaving yours.

“Alastor,” he said simply before stepping away from you and bending down to grab your clothes. Your expression turned to a confused one as you watched him slip your underwear up your legs, your skirt following. You let him dress you, his fingers skilfully clasping your bra behind your back before he motioned you to lift your arms so he could slip your shirt back on. Once dressed he let his hand lay on your thigh again, before he spoke up, “My name is Alastor. Call me by it and your debt is repaid.” He grabbed one of your hands and dropped the rosary in it before grabbing your waist and helping you down the altar, “Keep this, use it whenever you feel evil is near.”

You nodded up at him and smiled, your grin faltering for a second when you saw that the crucifix on the wall had detached and was now hanging upside down. Oddly, you thought nothing of it and you looked back at Alastor, your smile spreading wide, “Thank you, Fa—Alastor.” You squeezed the rosary between your fingers, watching as he bent down once again, but this time to grab his cassock and Roman collar. You stood silently as he buttoned it up and placed the white collar around his neck. He straightened the fabric with his hands, before meeting your eyes.

“You look quite a mess, dearest, you’d better go home and clean yourself.”

Your hand flew up to your face where dried blood was caked on your chin and around your mouth, and you felt a blush creep up your neck at his words; he did not look any better. Despite it, you nodded, shifting on your feet as you thanked him once again, “I cannot express how thankful I am, Alastor, truly. You, uh, you should probably get cleaned up too; people would probably wonder why there’s blood smeared on their priest’s face.” The man chuckled and nodded before bending down to grab your coat, handing it to you once he straightened up. You took it and quickly slipped it on, putting the rosary in one of the pockets.

You clasped your hands together and bit down your bottom lip as the man put a hand against your back and urged you to walk with him. You walked down the main aisle silently, stopping once you had reached the end of it. You turned to him and opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it, “Go, now. Enjoy your newly found purity.” You smiled and dipped your chin once; he grinned back, “I will see you tomorrow, though I am hoping you will not walk back in here with that same pitiful expression you had earlier.”

You let out a small laugh as you gestured that you agreed before giving him one last glance and turning around, walking towards the door. You could feel his stare burn holes in your back but ignore the feeling, pushing against the door and stepping outside, the sunlight momentarily blinding you. You sighed loudly, looking around to make sure no one was close; the last thing you wanted was someone seeing you limp, your face bloody. You began to make your way back home, ignoring the way your thighs stuck together from your and Alastor’s bodily fluids. You thought about his words, and strangely, you found yourself disagreeing; you hoped the faceless man would come back. You had tasted true goodness, the powerful and unconditional love and mercy of God, and you wanted more of it.

#alastor smut #alastor #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel smut #priest alastor #reader insert #alastor x reader smut #alastor x you #yueyan writes...

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angelynmoon · 1 year

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Eldritch Steve verse

Part 4

Carol has to remind Tommy that Steve is more dangerous than he presents when he mentions helping hunt Munson.

She reminds him that Munson is Steve's now, in ways that she knows Tommy wanted to be but that Steve never noticed, she reminds him that Munson is untouchable now.

She forgets that Tommy has never seen Steve truely angry, that he has never witnessed too many eyes, too sharp teeth, and bodies never found because they no longer existed, he's never witnessed the danger of touching what is Steve's.

Sometimes she forgets that she and Steve were friends before Steve and Tommy were.

She remembers when Steve was still new, not young, she's not sure he was ever young in the same way humans were, because she knows, she knows that Steve, Steve is not human.

She remembers a boy, or, it presented itself as a boy, but sometimes his head would swivel like an owl to look at her when she came up behind him, he'd grin too widely, all the way to his ears at the sight of her, and his laugh, his laugh at the very beginning, was an eerie mimic of laughter that sounded more like an echo off the quarry walls.

Carol hadn't liked him much at the beginning, she'd been afraid of him, like a sane person, she'd known in her most primal survival brain that Steve was dangerous, a thing to be feared.

And then he had saved her, she'd been playing in her yard, she'd lived near Steve back then, and someone had grabbed her, headed out of Hawkins, she never knew whether they planned on ransoming her back to her parents or doing worse, and she never brought it up after Steve had helped her out of the van and walked her home, not even a trace of blood from her kidnappers left to say they existed.

She'd learned then what being Steve's meant then, it meant protection and safety, it meant ignoring the weird that Steve did and gently reminding him that normal people don't have swivel heads and they eat vegitables not just raw meat, it meant sharing food and space with zero boundries because Steve needed to be close to them, it meant dating Tommy because Steve needed to see a normal relationship because he couldn't risk pursuing Munson, couldn't risk people disappearing because they jumped two gay men.

Carol had always known Munson was Steve's, ever since he'd first seen him in the school, she'd had to stop him then from going to him, had to remind him of the dangers, of people and how they hated.

Carol had been protecting Steve for a very long time before he stepped away from them, before something made him walk away from them.

She knew he wanted to keep them out away from whatever danger he now faced, but she missed him, he had been her brother, her best friend, the one she could tell anything to, like her little crush on Nancy Wheeler, the main reason she thinks he dated her, so Carol could hang out with her.

Steve didn't feel things like humans, Carol knew, he'd date anyone Carol pushed him to, let rumors fly about his sexual proess, something Carol had started herself because Steve likely didn't have sex the same way they did either.

But she missed him, which explained why she'd broken up with Tommy and come here to the Harrington house.

Tommy would never accept what Steve was, never accept his new family, because Carol knew that those children were more Steve's babies that just kids he babysat, she'd seen the way he took care of his baby bag of flour when they'd had to pass their health class, he'd stolen hers and Tommy's too when he realized Tommy was just going to buy a new one to pass.

There was something about the way Steve had cared for the lifeless bags of flours that told Carol that one day she'd be faking a surrogate pregnancy to explain away Steve aquireing a child.

Carol knocked at the door and was not entirely surprised when Munson answered.

His eyes widened then he called for Steve, not inviting her in, which she didn't blame him.

Steve appeared and Carol smiled softly, he looked as he always did to her eyes, too wide smile, too sharp teeth and so many eyes, but those eyes, unlike how they once were, were bright and lively, filled with happiness, much better than the emptiness she normally saw.

"Carol." Steve said, voice slightly different.

"Steve, what did I tell you about Munson, hmm?" She asked, hands going to her hips, in mock annoyance.

Steve kept smiling as he leaned into her space in a hug, which had her wrap her arms around him, feeling, like she usually did when he hugged her, completely surrounded, engulfed, protected.

"Now, do I need to find a reasonable lie for your kids about why people have just vanished or do they know?" Carol asked as she pulled back to look at Steve's face.

Munson blinked, "She knows?" He shouted, drawing the others to the door.

Steve looked at him, head turned owlishly, "I wasn't always a very good mimic."

Carol tapped his hand twice to remind Steve that he was doing something Other, which made him swivel to look back at her.

"You should come in, there is a lot to explain if you intend to stay. You should also meet Robin, you'll like her." Steve smiled too widely, as he pulled her in, and she knew that she and Robin would likely end up on a date or two, if only to appease Steve and to say they wouldn't work out.

But for whatever reason, part of Carol hoped that Steve was right, that she would like this Robin.

She deserved a reward, afterall, she'd been keeping Steve safe for a very long time, just like he'd kept her safe, that was what siblings did afterall.

A/n: umm, did I intend this, let's lie and say yes..

Enjoy Carol's pov.

@swimmingbirdrunningrock @just-a-tiny-void @darkwitchoferie @merricatty @0o-mushroom-o0 @starlight-archer @apuckishwit @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @korixae @cats-ate-all-of-my-pasta

#eldritch monster steve #upside down creature steve #steddie #carol perkins #part4 #From the Rot

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sofasoap · 1 year

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A quiet moment – John Price

Pairing : John Price x f!reader.

Summary: Marriage, Baby and life. Fluff and domestic feels.

This is part of the “Mini” MacTavish universe, but the reader isn’t “ Mini”. Continuation of Little secret and Learning to let go.

“masterlist” for prequel to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

Price knocked on the door gently, but there was no response. Slowly he opens the door to the infirmary, finding you sleeping , curling up in the chair, head in a bizarre angle , in front of the desk. Piles of unfinished paperworks scattered on the side, laptop screen showing you were halfway through typing your report before you dozed off to sleep. The coffee he brought you this morning, untouched. Price is worried about you. You seem to be a bit off lately. Getting tired more easily, not sleeping well at all. Your appetite also changed. You were a big eater before, sometimes you can eat more than him. Now you tend to nibble on crackers and trail mixes, skipping main meals.

He notices you tend to overwork yourself, no matter how much he nag you not to overexert. Your sense of duty and focus always overcomes your common sense of looking after yourself.

You startled awake when Price touches your shoulder. “John?”

“ Love, you're gonna strain your neck if you sleep like that. .. and you are drooling.”

Wiping your mouth, embarrassed, “ I am not… and what are you doing here?” “ Wondering why my wife isn’t in bed with me.”

The two of you got married a few months ago after a long courtship. Both of you are pretty low key type of people, and none of you wanted a lavish wedding.: I have cut ties with my family, you said to him once, and he doesn’t have any close family around anymore. So at the end, with your friends Doc and Ghost by the side as witnesses, Price and you got married in the registry office. The only other people who knew about the marriage was the HR team.

“You are overworking yourself too much lately, are you sure you are Ok?”

“.... Never been better.” he can sense you are lying, hiding something from him. But he doesn’t press on. Until one day after he came back from a mission he couldn’t find you. Not in your shareroom, not in the infirmary, or anywhere on site. “Captain.” Doc called out to him as they spotted Price storming down the corridor. He takes a deep breath before turning around, trying not to show the panic that is slowly building up in his stomach.

Doc looked left and right, making sure there were no other people in close proximity before they whispered, “She’s in hospital. Got sent there two days ago.” Price threw a few words of gratitude over his shoulder as he turned around and rushed towards the address Doc provided.

“Oh hey darling, you are back.” You greet him lightly as you look up from your tablet, sitting in the hospital bed.

How can you be so calm still while on a drip and looking so pale? Just as he was ready to launch another lecture, you seemed to be able to read his mind and interjected before he opened his mouth.

“ Before you tell me off…” you reach over to the side table, grabbing a little print out and handing it over to him. It’s a picture of an ultrasound.

“... John?” No reply. He pulled a chair in and sat down. Stunned. “Are you going to say something?” Voice wavered as your face crumbled a bit. He’s going to be a father. Something that he never thought of. Hell, he never expected to be married or even to be in a relationship with anyone years ago. And here he is,having the first glance of his future child. A soft smile grew on his face. He reached out and grabbed your hand. “Did you know?”

“... I had an inkling for a while.”

“ Why didn’t you tell me?”

“... I wanted to be sure first.” You look down at your finger, fidgeting away.” Plus, things have been so busy at work I… “ He sighed. “ You need to take better care of yourself. Not just for yourself,” He leans over and places his hand on your abdomen,” For the bub, and for me too. Please.” You nodded your head. After getting discharged from the hospital, you found out that you will no longer be staying on site at the base. John has signed a lease for a house nearby, more suitable for a growing family. What surprised you even more was, everything was moved and new furniture was already in place, even the nursery. Full of toys. “.... I might have gone a bit overboard.” Price admitted sheepishly.

“We don’t even know if it's a boy or girl yet.” You chuckled. “ Hence why I bought both….” you rolled your eyes as he commented.” Plus it doesn’t matter. They can play with whatever they want.” He pulled you in from behind and rested his hand on your slightly growing stomach. “ Thought of the name for the bub yet?” You lean your head back into his neck. “ I was thinking of Grace for a girl… or Kyle if it’s a boy.” he kisses your head. “ I like that.” “ Well, little one, mummy and daddy can’t wait to meet you in a few months' time.”

“Sergeant Kyle Garrick reporting for duty, everyone calls me Gaz….. Something wrong Captain?”“No.. Nothing is wrong. You got a great name.”

“?????”

#call of duty #captain john price #john price x you #john price x reader #john price imagine #john price #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #captain price #captain price x y/n #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #captain john price x female reader

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wheresarizona · 1 year

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(Gif by me)

All I Want For Christmas Is You

summary: What your first Christmas is like with the love of your life, Javier Peña.

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Soft Javier Peña, Christmas fluff, domestic fluff, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie(s), cockwarming, vibrator, nipple play, morning sex, floor sex, dirty talk, praise, a couple of Papís, breeding kink if you squint, some spanks, nurse!reader, some medical talk (nothing graphic), food mention, emotions/feelings, comedy, Javier making your lumberjack fantasies come true, Javier being a dreamboat of a man, Javier getting the love and happiness he deserves)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 12.9k+ (Covers various days over almost a month with 3 smut scenes)

a/n: This can be read as a standalone or as part of the Learning to Live ‘verse. It’s canon. Happy holidays! This is post-Colombia. Javier lives in Laredo with his girlfriend, who is a nurse. There are some scenes in the hospital (nothing bad). This one goes out to @theorganasolo, who inadvertently prompted me and made me spiral. I adore you. As always, shoutout to the love of my life, @juletheghoul, for reading this over, and being by my side the entire way, and also invisibleismyname for also reassuring me it was okay. You guys are the best. ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Friday, November 27

“Javi?”

The two of you were sitting on the couch in your shared living room, your feet in his lap, Batman & Robin playing on the television, your focus always shifting to the nipples on the Batsuit, fascinated by the brave costuming choice.

How did that conversation go?

“Do you know what the Batsuit needs? Nipples. Picture it, a tits-out look!”

“Yes, Cielito?” Javier replied, taking you from your thoughts.

When you turned your head, he was already looking at you, his hand rubbing over your bare calf as he met your eyes. It was a Friday night, so he was wearing his weekend-lounge-around-the-house outfit, which was a pair of sweatpants, and nothing else—because if it was his choice, he’d just be naked, but that was too distracting for you.

“Let’s say,” you started, “theoretically, it was the day after Thanksgiving—“

“It is the day after Thanksgiving.”

“Yes, but in this scenario, it’s theoretical.”

“Right… Theoretical,” he smiled, his fingers smoothing up to your knee and back down to your ankle.

“Okay, glad that’s established.” Ignoring Javi’s snort as you continued, “Would it be weird if a person started decorating for Christmas the following day?”

His eyebrows scrunched, hand pausing its movements.

“Two days after Thanksgiving…” he said slowly.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“I think someone can decorate whenever the fuck they want if it makes them happy,” he said with a shrug. “Mi mamá usually started on the first of December. You know Connie, Steve’s wife?”

You were well aware of the Murphys, nodding your head.

“She’d start decorating the day after Thanksgiving—we’d be eating dinner, and the boxes with her Christmas shit were already in the living room, ready to go.”

“So, if I were to ask that since we have the day off tomorrow, if you’d like to go with me to the Christmas tree farm, your answer would be?”

“Is this a theoretical question?” he asked cheekily.

“No, it’s not, smartass,” you answered, rolling your eyes, Javi laughing and squeezing your leg.

“Either way,” he said with a warm smile. “My answer would be yeah, I’d love to get a Christmas tree with you.”

Moving your legs out of his lap, he crawled on the couch towards you, holding his weight on an arm while his face hovered over yours.

“Any other weird holiday traditions I should know about?” he asked.

“You said it wasn’t weird!” you exclaimed, smacking his ass.

He chuckled, closing the distance to press his mouth against yours, kissing you passionately, your eyes falling shut as you melted into it, not at all ashamed that you suddenly forgot what you were talking about.

Saturday, November 28

“The flannel?!” you practically squealed in your excitement, coming out of the bathroom after getting ready to leave the apartment and finding Javi in his tight-ass jeans and a red flannel shirt.

He’d even buttoned it up almost all the way, the sleeves down to his wrists.

“You’re really making my lumberjack fantasies come true,” you said, “and I’m two seconds away from getting on my knees and giving you the sloppiest blow job.”

Javi laughed, his cheek dimpling as he smiled.

“Figured I’d be chopping down a tree,” he replied, his hands resting on his hips. “Thought I better look the part.” He shrugged.

It only took a few steps to have you standing in front of him, pressing your palms to his chest, feeling the softness of the fabric as you rubbed over his pecs, looking at him through your lashes.

“I think,” you said, sliding your hands down his front, his chest firm and belly soft beneath your palms, “that you knew this look was a one-way ticket to getting me naked the moment we get home.” Your hand slid over the front of his jeans, palming his cock, seeing his throat bob as he gulped, a flush licking up his neck.

You loved the effect you always had on him.

His eyes had darkened with want, his tongue peeking out as it swiped along his bottom lip.

“Maybe,” he said the word in a deeper register that had a tingle moving through you.

“You were correct,” you purred.

It was evident he wanted to kiss you, and you didn’t make him wait, pressing your lips against his, hearing him groan as his big hands came up to cradle your face. It was not surprising when he deepened it, licking into your mouth with fervor, your toes curling from the intensity, your body thrumming with energy.

The two of you did make it out of the apartment… eventually, lips kiss-swollen from the heavy makeout session.

There were three places to get a Christmas tree in Laredo: The garden center, the grocery store parking lot, or driving a little north of town to the small family-owned Christmas tree farm.

If you had been celebrating the holiday alone, as was usual, you would’ve gone for a pre-cut tree from the garden center. This year, however, you were not alone, and after talking it out with Javi, he was more than happy to take you to the farm and cut the tree for you both.

The small styrofoam cup was held in your hands, the hot chocolate clearly made from a powder mix with small undissolved lumps floating at the top. It was not hot cocoa weather, being as you were sweating in your t-shirt and jeans, the sun shining brightly above you in the sky, but the tree farm owners seemed to agree that finding the perfect Christmas tree required the steaming beverage to really get the full holiday experience.

You’d practically skipped to the table where they were serving the drinks, happily accepting one from a teenager wearing shorts and a tank top, Javi not understanding at all why you’d want to drink something hot on such a warm day and passing when he was offered a cup.

Javi’s lumberjack look was really doing it for you. But add in an axe? You were fucking done for, your heartbeat thudding between your legs, panties ruined, body hot all over that you knew had nothing to do with the weather. He held it against his chest as you both meandered through the trees, sneaking glances at his cute butt every chance you got while sipping your cocoa, him pointing out prospective candidates before you were both analyzing the tree up close.

You had not expected Javi to have so many opinions.

Yes, you wanted it to be perfect—this was a special Christmas, after all. You wanted that perfect, full, pyramid-shaped tree with the dark green needles that’d look so picturesque in your shared living room.

The last three you looked at fit that description, yet Javi found things he didn’t like.

Not full enough… Baby, these limbs are fucking weak; they won’t hold your ornaments… I think there’s something living in this one, fuck, there’s a goddamn squirrel.

Okay, maybe he had a point with the last one he rejected.

It was honestly very sweet how determined he was to find the absolute best for your home. He seemed to be having a great time, telling you about getting trees with his parents growing up, them generally just picking one up in town, and the three of them decorating when they got home—he and his dad hanging up lights on the front of the house the same day, and putting out the Nacimiento (Nativity scene), with all of the clay figures, baby Jesus being added before Javi woke up on Christmas morning.

After looking at half a dozen more potentials, you found The One, and you owed it all to Javi’s ass.

Your eyes had been locked on his butt, admiring the way his jeans fit just right to make what little he had look so good while he was inspecting a possible choice, when he caught you staring as he was about to ask a question over his shoulder.

A smirk was pulled up on his lips as he turned to face you, knowing you made a sad audible sound that turned into an appreciative hum as you now stared at his very noticeable bulge—pretty sure he was dressing to the left, making out the faint outline of his dick.

Javi suddenly obstructed your view by setting the axe down in front of him, his hands holding the handle hiding his crotch.

Another sad sound came from you, finally meeting his gaze with a pout.

“My eyes are up here,” he said, pointing at them with his fingers.

“And your dick is right there,” you said, jutting your finger towards where it was hidden.

His eyebrow rose, looking amused, “My ass, too?”

Your cup had been discarded in the trash five trees ago, raising your hands in exasperation, “You know I am weak when it comes to your cute little butt—it takes everything in me not to touch it!”

“Yeah? You wanna touch my ass?” he asked, and you gulped because he was giving you a look that said you were about to have a very good time.

Except you were basically in a tiny public forest, and anyone could just come across the two of you, finding yourself turning your head from side to side to see if people were nearby when you did a double-take, spotting what you thought might be The One in the next row over.

Your feet were moving on their own accord in its direction.

He sounded confused when he called out, “Cielito?”

“Follow me,” you replied.

It was gorgeous up close, the right shape and color, all nice and full, your hand moving to test some branches and finding them sturdy.

“Is it too tall?” you asked Javi, who’d taken up the space beside you.

He walked up to it, comparing it to his height, and you could tell he was mentally thinking about how it would fit in the living room, the wheels spinning in his brain.

“It’d fit just fine,” he said.

Your lip was pulled between your teeth as you watched Javi do his inspection, him double-checking that nothing was living in it and testing branches, walking around it with a serious look on his face. You waited with bated breath, the anticipation like a ball in your belly, hoping it’d meet his approval.

His back was to you, a hand on his cocked hip, holding the axe to his chest with the other.

Turning to face you, he smiled.

“It’s perfect,” he said.

“Yes!” you shouted excitedly, pumping your fist in the air and laughing.

Breath was pushed from his lungs by the force of your body crashing into him as you threw your arms around his neck, being careful of the axe, kissing him enthusiastically. He chuckled into your mouth, his free arm wrapping around you to hug you close. Breaking the kiss, you looked at him, seeing his eyes so soft and full of happiness.

“We found our first tree,” you said, your cheeks hurting from your big smile.

He grinned, “The first of many, Cielito,” he replied, kissing you tenderly.

After the celebratory kissing, you moved out of his way to give him space to work, making sure you had a good angle to see Javi’s front and face. He had your undivided attention; biting your lip as you watched him set the axe between his feet to keep it from falling as it stood up. Your mouth went dry when he started rolling the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt up his forearms, revealing his golden skin. He popped open two more buttons on his shirt, giving you a glimpse of his slightly flushed chest and his neck—God, his neck. You must have made a sound because his eyes met yours, crookedly smiling, a look on his face that told you he knew the effect he was having on you, and then he had the audacity to wink.

It felt like you were going to combust; you clenched, honestly fearing there was a chance of fainting—just swooning like a Victorian woman who saw a sliver of wrist.

His long fingers gripped the handle tight as he lifted it up, his attention moving to the tree trunk, eyeing it for a moment before bringing the axe down with a thunk into the wood.

It was better than you ever could have imagined, stifling the moan that wanted to break free from your throat.

Sweat was glistening on his forehead, and down the line of his throat, his face pinched in concentration, grunting with the effort of his swings. It was too hot, having to fan yourself with your hand as the tree finally toppled to the ground. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, his breaths coming out harder, meeting your wide eyes with a knowing smile.

“Good?” he asked.

“Fucking incredible,” you breathed, slowly clapping your hands. “Ten out of ten, absolutely dripping. Honestly, this could be foreplay.”

He chuckled, “Let’s get the fuck out of here, Cielito.”

The tree had easily fit in the bed of Javi’s truck, him carrying it into the apartment where you already had the base ready to go in front of the large window by the front door.

That needy ache you were all too familiar with had taken up residence in your core, the tension so thick in the room you could practically poke it and feel all the horny energy. There were no doubts in either of you about what was going to happen the moment the Christmas tree was safely put up and secured. You both knew, and yet, care was taken to ensure it was centered perfectly and locked in tight.

You didn’t make it to the bedroom.

You didn’t even make it to the couch.

He fucked you on the floor in front of the tree.

Clothes were messily strewn around you, the hardwood cool under your bare back, your legs hitched high up on Javi’s ribs, digging your fingers into the flesh of his shoulders. His hips were snapping into yours, going hard, deep, the stretch of his cock filling you over and over again, causing red-hot pleasure to build in your center, unable to stop your uninhibited moans.

He felt so fucking good inside you, his teeth nibbling on your chin, rough sounds coming from his throat, your skin buzzing, feeling so close to the edge you could practically taste it.

His voice was low and breathy, “Look at me.”

Your eyes opened, finding Javi’s beautiful brown ones glazed over in lust.

“Wanna watch you come,” he grunted, his hand sliding between your bodies.

His thumb easily glided over your clit, your back arching at the electricity that moved through you, feeling yourself wind tighter and tighter, mewling under him, chanting his name in gasping breaths as everything inside you knotted together.

“Come on, baby,” he rasped. “Come for me. Let me have it.”

He was taking up your vision, his broad frame eclipsing the rest of the room, your brain focused on him and how he was making you feel—the slick slide of his thick cock pounding into you, his eyes watching you with such deep devotion, smelling his cologne, hearing his voice—it all had you falling over the edge, coming with a cry of his name, clamping down on him hard enough he had to slow to a grind, Javi groaning loudly.

“My good girl.” His tone was rough, his face screwed up like he was in pain. “Fucking love you. Gonna come.”

Pleasure was pulsing through your body, your brain fuzzy, Javi picking up speed, his thrusts wetter from your release. His head fell into the crook of your neck, panting hot breaths against your skin, his rhythm getting jerky, knowing he was close.

“Come inside me,” you gasped. “Want it deep—please, Papí.”

A ragged groan came from his chest, Javi pressing in hard one last time, his cock jerking as he came. Warmth radiated in your center, feeling him fill you, his hips rocking to fuck it deeper until he hissed from the oversensitivity, finally stilling.

His body went lax, collapsing on top of you, and you basked in the weight of him—all solid and warm—finding it comforting, rubbing your fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, his breaths hot on your neck slowly evening out.

His words were muffled against your skin, “I should chop down more trees.”

You laughed, feeling him smiling.

“I think I’d die,” you giggled. “Just combust from the sheer sexiness.”

He lifted his head to look at you, lazily smiling.

“Don’t want you dying,” he said, kissing you. “I’ll tone down the sexy.”

“Impossible thing to do.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

After a quick, much-needed shower, the two of you started decorating the tree, not bothering to wear anything more than your underwear and a baggy t-shirt, Javi settling for a pair of white boxer briefs.

Christmas music was softly playing on the living room radio, two glasses of eggnog sitting on the coffee table beside your meticulously packed box of ornaments you were showing Javi, the tree already lit up with a string of colorful lights.

He’d been impressed with your collection—a large number were red and gold, and then there were the ones you’d gotten over the years, Javi asking about each and every one, telling him about trips to beaches, theme parks, national monuments, and national parks, some you simply thought were cute like the bulldog riding a skateboard you’d found at a thrift store, or the penguin wearing a top hat.

“Do you want me to help…?” he asked, looking a little unsure.

Your eyebrows knitted together.

“Yes?” you answered. “I want to decorate with you. It’s our tree.”

“Fuck, sorry,” he sighed, looking away. “This just seems like something important to you, and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

Pressing a hand to his cheek, you made him look at you.

“It’s not important to me—it’s just fun,” you said. “I enjoy buying ornaments and decorating the tree because I think it’s pretty, and I love the pine smell.” You smiled. “Getting to decorate with you would make me really happy, cause like I said, it’s fun, and it’d be even more fun to get to do it with someone, especially with the person I love.”

His eyes had gone rounder.

“You won’t care where I put your ornaments?” he asked.

“Well, first of all, we live together, we’re going to spend every Christmas for the rest of our lives together, so they’re our ornaments now—we’ll buy some more as a couple to add to the collection.” His face visibly brightened. “Second, you can put them wherever you want, babe—it’s just a tree, there is zero pressure, we’re just having a good time.”

He grinned, moving in to kiss you.

Javi was relaxed as you started decorating, quickly finding yourselves laughing at jokes and stories, filling the branches together, moving easily around one another. You serenaded him with songs playing on the radio, much to his delight, stealing kisses when you got too close and Javi grabbing your ass every chance he got, you doing the same to him until every last ornament had been placed.

The room was bathed in a soft rainbow glow, the tree sparkling.

Javi was solid behind you, his arms around your middle as you both admired your teamwork, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You felt so fucking happy; it was almost overwhelming with how it filled your entire body with warm fuzziness, thinking there was a chance you might float away.

“Do you like it?” he asked softly in your ear.

“I love it,” you replied, lacing your fingers with his on your stomach. “It’s the perfect first Christmas tree.”

“Yeah, it is.” He kissed your neck. “I love you, Cielito.”

“I love you, too, Javi. So, fucking much.”

Wednesday, December 16

The mall in Laredo was all decked out for the holidays with colorful lights and garland everywhere, they even procured a Santa for small children to cry in the lap of, the place busy since it was mid-December.

Standing at the perfume counter at Sears, you were smelling yet another sample while Christmas music played over the store speakers. Javi was at your side, watching you with that fond smile of his and holding the blender you were going to ship your parents under his arm, various other small gifts in a shopping basket dangling from his hand.

“Oh, I like this one,” you said. “I fucking love it. Javi, smell it.”

You held the test strip up to him to smell, Javi taking a sniff.

“Is it blackberry?” he asked.

“Yes.” You smiled, nodding your head. You smelled it again, eyes closing as you took in the notes. “It kind of reminds me of when I was a kid. My grandpa would take me on little hikes, and we’d eat blackberries on the trail. God, this smells so fucking good.” You picked up the bottle. “I should get it.” You glanced at Javi. “Should I get it, babe? Would you like it on me?”

“Yeah, Cielito. I think you’d smell really fucking good wearing it,” he answered, smiling.

You grinned, getting the sales associate's attention, and asked the price, your stomach dropping when she told you the high number. Chewing on your lip, you debated if you should buy it. The price wasn’t totally unreasonable, and you could afford it, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to spend that kind of money on yourself, especially with how much you’d already spent on other people. There was also the fact you had half a dozen other perfumes at home, and did you really need another?

Setting the bottle down, you frowned, the worker already helping another customer, deciding that the perfume wasn’t for you.

You smiled softly as you looked at Javi.

“I’ll get it later,” you said.

He was frowning.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah. I remembered I have all the other scents at home—I don't need another.” You shrugged.

“But you loved this one…” he said slowly.

“I did. But I also love the one I’m wearing, so it’s okay! Now, let’s look around some more; Maybe try and find something for your dad.”

The two of you browsed some clothes, you staring longingly at a sweater that looked so comfortable, then moving back to the kitchen department because you both decided that Chucho should get an ice cream maker, knowing the older man loved his sweets and always had a quart of vanilla in the freezer.

You were browsing new movie releases, the shopping basket held in your hand, while Javi had both small appliances under his arms. A movie caught your attention, pulling it out to show him, turning your head toward him—the look on his face had you pausing, it all pinched in annoyance and grumpy, taking a second to glance around and check your surroundings because you knew it wasn’t you, when it processed what was playing over the store radio.

“Not a fan of Mariah Carey?” you asked, turning your attention back to him and setting down the movie.

His frown deepened.

“It’d be fine if they played it once, but we’ve heard it three fucking times since we got here,” he said.

“But, babe, don’t you know all I want for Christmas is you?” you teased, smiling mischievously.

His eyes went wide, knowing the look on your face.

“Baby, no, don’t—” he said quickly, but it was too late, cutting him off as you started giving him a one-woman show, serenading him with, “All I Want For Christmas Is You.”

Were you a tad ridiculous? Of course, Javi’s cheeks flushed pink, his ears red, making sure you were dramatically pressing your hand against his chest or cupping his face each time you sang about how you wanted him. Javi couldn’t keep from smiling at your antics, and when you grabbed his butt, he leaned into your space to crash his mouth against yours to get you to shut up, thoroughly distracting you with his tongue.

You were breathing hard when you finally parted, Javi smiling at you.

“All I want for Christmas is you, too, baby,” he said, kissing you deeply, your free hand tangled in his hair.

Friday, December 25 (Christmas)

It was Christmas morning, and your alarm was blaring, groaning as you rolled over to shut it off.

Arms wrapped around your middle, pulling your bare back against Javi’s naked front, his lips pressing kisses into your hair, his big hand beginning to roam over the skin of your stomach as the grogginess of sleep slowly dissipated.

“I don’t wanna go to work,” you grumbled, eyes closed again, melting into his warmth under the covers, loving how he held you close. “It’s our first Christmas, and I have to spend it working. This is unfair,” you whined.

Being employed by a hospital meant you didn’t get holidays off if they fell within your workweek; there were always patients who needed to be cared for, so you’d have to go in, the only plus being the extra holiday pay.

Javi’s tone was all deep and raspy from sleep, “Presents or dick?” he asked, letting you feel the hard line of his cock as he ground it into your ass.

“This is why I love you,” you said, reaching up behind you to run your fingers through his sleep-tousled hair. “Knowing just what will make my day a little better.”

It never failed to amaze you how quickly he could have you going from zero to horny, especially in the mornings. Feeling him hot and hard, hearing the deep timbre of his voice, it was like a siren’s song to your hormones, making them scream that you needed him, that he was the only one who could soothe the familiar ache in your core. You were already wet for him, arousal swirling in your belly.

“Dick?” he husked.

“Definitely, dick,” you answered, wiggling your butt against him.

A low chuckle sounded from him, his hand moving to weigh your breast in his palm before teasing your nipple, pinching it between his fingers, moaning from the pleasure shooting to your center as it pebbled.

His tongue danced along the shell of your ear, making you shiver when he whispered, “Need my dick, baby?”

“Always,” you answered, the anticipation welling up inside of you.

Everywhere he touched, it felt like your skin was on fire, his hand trailing down your torso, eliciting soft sounds from your throat when he pressed his fingers through the wetness between your legs.

“Mmm, fucking soaked,” he rumbled, kissing your shoulder. A gasp fell from your lips as he easily pushed two thick fingers inside you, relishing in the stretch, languidly pumping them in and out of your sopping entrance. “My good girl keeping me inside all night,” he rasped, pressing a kiss to your neck. His fingers were loud as they entered you, sliding slickly from the mix of your arousal and his come from the previous night.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Want to get off on my fingers?”

“No.” You shook your head, wanting to feel him inside you, needing him to split you open. “Want you to fuck me,” you said, wiggling your butt again. “Put it in.”

“My needy girl,” he chuckled, his hand leaving you.

The heat of his body left for a moment, his big hand grabbing your leg to put up over his own to open you up and give him more space to work with. Seconds later, he was flush with the line of your body again, pressing his cock between your thighs, rolling the head of him over your entrance, teasing you, making you feel like you were going to erupt if he didn’t stick it in.

“Javi,” you whined, bucking back into him.

“Impatient,” he said, nipping at your ear.

Your pussy was throbbing in tune with your heartbeat, moaning loudly when he started pushing in, stretching you open, filling you inch by glorious inch, smoothly sliding home in one thrust. Javi groaned when he bottomed out, his fingers digging into your hip, the stretch of him divine.

His voice was rough, “Fuck, you feel so good, baby.”

You felt so full, moaning at how you could feel him throbbing against your walls, the achy need disappearing and turning into contentedness, happy that he was inside you, and wanting to feel him move. He pulled out almost all the way and pushed back in, setting up a slow rhythm that had you feeling every ridge and vein on his cock, him rubbing against all the right spots that had your toes curling.

He was rocking into you, the beginnings of an orgasm making itself known in your center, basking in the softness, and how you both were taking your time just enjoying one another.

You loved mornings like this when you didn’t rush, Javi slowly building you up, teasing you with his hand palming your breast, and playing with your pebbled peak, feeling electricity shooting through your body. Your fingers were still in his hair, turning his head to kiss your arm, moans falling from your lips from the pleasurable push and pull of his hips.

“Love fucking you in the morning,” he rasped, kissing the skin of your shoulder and neck, feeling the tickle of his mustache. “Love being inside you.” Your body was trembling, Javi’s pace picking up in speed. “Love knowing you’ll have my come inside you all day,” he groaned like he was thinking about it, his cock twitching. “You love that, too.” His hand moved between your legs, making you keen when he circled your clit. He was pushing you toward your release, feeling your muscles beginning to tighten. “Fucking love when I fill you up.”

“Yes,” you moaned. “Yes, Papí.”

A rumbling groan sounded from his chest, Javi thrusting harder, grunting as he fucked into you, filling you over and over again. It was so wet between your legs, his cock slick with your juices and his come, hearing the suck of your pussy taking each deep plunge of his dick, the sharp slap of his hips sounding in the room, along with your moans and the rough sounds from his throat, all of it winding you tighter.

You were so fucking close, your fingers gripping in his hair, your pussy fluttering.

“Come on, mi amor,” he grunted. “Dámelo, give it to me. Come for me.”

He was heavy and hard inside you, feeling slick and come dripping out and around him, the pressure building in your core, your muscles pulling taut until everything came together and you were coming with a cry of his name—your body seized up, pussy clamping down on him as euphoria exploded through your system.

“There we go,” he groaned, fucking you through your high. “My good girl.

Your body was tingling, his thrusts drawing out your bliss as you rode the waves, your brain a pleasurable haze and feeling so fucking good. You knew he was chasing his own high, his breaths getting shaky, his hips thrusting into you over and over again, grunting in your ear. His fingers pressed against your sensitive clit again, gasping at the jolts of pleasure, tightening your grip in his hair.

“Want you to come again, but this time with me,” he said through gritted teeth. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

The sharp heat was already beginning to build low in your belly, nodding your head.

“Yes,” you choked out.

“Good girl.”

He was going hard, pistoning into you, the slap of his hips making your ass jiggle from the force. His fingers were playing your clit like an aficionado, knowing the right speed and pressure, not surprising you at all when everything started winding tight, your toes curling, pushing back against him to meet his thrusts.

“You close?” he grunted, sounding wrecked.

“Close.”

“‘M close, too,” he groaned in your ear. “Gonna fuck you full of me. Fill you to the fucking brim and fuck it deep—get you so fucking full of my come.”

His words had you coming with a gasp of his name, your pussy squeezing him hard, spasming around him as pleasure radiated in your body, Javi following with a low groan, pushing into you hard as he came. His teeth sank into your shoulder, making you hiss from the pleasurable pain, feeling his cock jerk and the wet pulse of him filling you, rolling his hips to fuck it as deep as possible, a happy sigh falling from your lips at how fucking good it felt. It took him a moment before he went still, soothing over the bite with kisses, his hand rubbing over your tummy.

“I love you,” he said into your skin.

“I love you, too,” you replied dreamily, scratching lovingly at his scalp.

“Merry Christmas, Cielito.”

“Merry Christmas, Javi—this was the best present to wake up to.”

He chuckled, his big hand grabbing yours from his hair to kiss your knuckles, his lips pressing against the diamond on your ring finger, the tender action making you feel like you were going to melt, knowing just how much Javi loved seeing you wear your engagement ring.

“I did get you presents,” he said, wrapping his arms around your middle to hug you against him, kissing your head.

“I know, babe, but just having you is all I really wanted.”

He was silent for a second.

“You weren’t lying,” he finally said.

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“About what?” you asked.

“When you did that cute concert for me at the mall.”

“Oh,” you said, giggling. “Nope. It was true. All I want for Christmas is you.”

“All I want for Christmas is you, too,” he replied, nuzzling his face in your neck and hugging you closer to him.

Javi always knew how to make you feel better.

It was a bummer that you had to work instead of getting to spend the day with him while he had it off, but he’d given you orgasms, then made you breakfast to make sure you had a smile on your face when you walked into the hospital for your nursing shift.

One thing you were thankful for was your department being somewhat quiet; the patients were all post operations and were either asleep or so high on pain medication they just chilled in their beds.

Setting your coffee down on the desk at the nurse’s station, you went to check the new arrivals in the inbox, finding there were two, along with a notice from human resources that had your eyebrows furrowing.

Most hospitals offered the opportunity for high school students to come in and shadow different jobs they’re interested in possibly pursuing. Usually, they did it for a school assignment; other times, it was kids seeing what the work was like before deciding what to go to college for. You’d shadowed your sophomore year, spending half a day with a lovely nurse at your hometown hospital, following her around, seeing what the job was like, and loving every minute.

Your eyes scanned over the paper again, knowing the program was neat, but you were really fucking surprised some high school kid wanted to spend their Christmas with a random nurse instead of at home.

A frown settled on your lips.

Maybe they didn’t have family, or they didn’t want to spend time with their family, and this was a better alternative. Whatever the case, you were going to make sure they had a great time.

“It should be illegal that we have to work on Christmas,” your coworker said with a slight Texas drawl as she entered the station, flopping down in a rolling chair at the long desk.

“Someone has to take care of the sick people, Robyn,” you replied, walking over to take a seat next to her. Tossing the notice from HR in the trash, you scanned over the first chart in your hands.

She sighed loudly.

“That’s true. Could you imagine bein’ at the hospital all alone on Christmas?”

That had you frowning, thinking about Javi being alone at the apartment.

Hopefully, he’d go hang out with his dad, even though the three of you had celebrated the night before together. Chucho had been thrilled with his ice cream maker, him gifting you both some beautiful framed pictures of the two eight-month-old cows Javi had basically raised from birth that you both jokingly referred to as your bovine children. Javi’s dad was an avid photographer, with albums of photos at the ranch. He’d also gifted you a candid shot from Thanksgiving of you and Javi in Chucho’s kitchen making dinner—the two of you seeming to be in your own little world, with your arms around his waist, his hand cupping your cheek, gazing into each other’s eyes while laughing, looking so utterly in love it made your heart skip a beat staring at it.

It was hung up in the kitchen at your shared apartment.

You were itching to call and check up on Javi.

“Screw the one jello cup rule,” you said, glancing over at her. “We’re gonna make sure no one feels lonely.”

“Nope,” she smiled. “Big plans after work?”

“We celebrated with Javi’s dad yesterday,” you answered. “So, tonight, our plan was to open presents, have dinner, and watch the classic Christmas claymation movies. What are you doing?”

“Goin’ to my mom’s,” she gave you a look that made you laugh. Her relationship with her mother was not all that great.

“Why are you complaining about work, then? It’s getting you out of so much.”

“That’s a good point.”

“Oh! Apparently, some high school kid is coming to shadow me today.” You glanced at your watch, seeing it was half past eight. “They’ll be here from nine to noon.”

“Who’d voluntarily wanna spend their Christmas at a hospital?” Robyn asked, looking confused.

“And a teen, too,” you pointed out. “I don’t know, but I’ll make sure they have a good time—I was gonna go get some snacks from the vending machine. Want anything?”

“May I please have some Doritos?” she asked.

“Of course.”

She smiled brightly, “You’re the best!”

You laughed.

“I try.”

According to your watch, it was almost nine, having done your first rounds to check on patients, and currently charting notes at the desk while Robyn was doing her own rounds.

Footsteps on the linoleum floor told you people were approaching, not bothering to look up until you heard someone greet you by name, recognizing the voice as Geraldine from HR. She was a nice enough older woman, probably there to bring the kid shadowing you.

Your head came up to say hi, the word dying on your lips as your eyes widened, not expecting to find a Javier fucking Peña wearing a charcoal-colored suit, with a crisp white shirt, and the floral printed yellow tie you’d gotten him; it was patterned with dark and light blue flowers.

His eyes were sparkling, and he had a close-lipped smile on his face, looking handsome as always.

“I hope you got the notice that someone would be shadowing you today,” Geraldine said, taking your attention away from Javi, finally looking at her.

“Yes,” you nodded. “I didn’t know the program was open to all ages…”

“It is,” she said. “Haven’t had anyone over eighteen in years. Now, I am aware of your relationship, and Javier has promised to be on his best behavior. He claimed he was thinking about making a career change—” You could tell she saw through his lie. “And requested this department specifically, so he is here to watch you work and not distract you. Isn’t that right, Javier?” she asked, looking at him sternly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, meeting her gaze. “No distractions. On my best behavior.”

“Good,” she said, nodding. Her eyes met yours again, finally smiling. “Normally, shadowing is for three hours, but it’s Christmas, so if you’d like him to stay longer, he’s more than welcome as long as he remains on his best behavior.” Her face went serious again. “This is not a normal situation, and I don’t want to receive any complaints, so please do not make me regret allowing this.”

You understood what she was saying: No public displays of affection—no touching, no kissing, absolutely no fucking. The two of you needed to pretend like he really was just some guy thinking of starting a new career. It would be a test of your resolve, but getting to have Javi’s company for the day was worth keeping your hands and lips to yourself.

“I understand, Geraldine,” you said. “We’ll be professional—there will be zero complaints.”

“I know I can count on you,” she said, smiling again. “Well, Merry Christmas, you two!”

“Merry Christmas,” you and Javi replied, Geraldine walking away.

You looked at him, his eyes already on yours.

“You’re here,” you said, sounding surprised.

He smiled.

“I’m here.”

“You’re spending Christmas with me.”

“I’m spending Christmas with you.”

“This is so romantic.” You felt your eyes burning. “You abused a hospital program to get to spend a day with me at work.”

“Yeah—figured it was easier and less painful than becoming a patient.”

“This is definitely my preference,” you giggled. “Come sit next to me!” you said, excitedly patting the chair beside you.

Javi chuckled, walking around the desk and sitting in the chair you indicated, getting a whiff of his spicy cologne, having an almost Pavlovian response as your body heated at the smell.

Leaning in close, you whispered in his ear, “This is going to be the biggest fucking test of our self-control.”

His head moved to whisper to you, “I know. I’m fucking dying to kiss you and half-hard knowing you’ve got me inside you.”

“Jesus, Javi,” you gasped, feeling the wetness between your thighs.

“My best behavior,” he said, sitting up in his chair. “So, what are you doing?” he asked, pointing at the chart in front of you.

It took you a second to think straight.

“I’m making notes about the patient,” you said. “Things I’ve noticed that might interest the doctor, vitals, when I administered medication, how they’re healing.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“I’m actually almost done, and then we can go check on room eight. They should be waking up soon—had surgery early this morning.”

“Sounds good to me,” he smiled, looking incredibly happy to be there with you, his eyes so soft they made your chest go tight. It was taking a lot not to kiss his stupidly adorable face, clearing your throat as you went back to writing.

“Hey, Javi!” Robyn greeted as she got back to the station.

“Hi, Robyn,” he replied.

“Why are you sitting back here?” she asked, taking a seat on his other side.

Leaning forward, you looked past him at her.

“He’s my shadow,” you said, pointing your pen at him.

“He’s definitely not a teenager.”

“Apparently, anyone can do it,” you said, shrugging.

“And Javi wanted to spend Christmas with you? That’s so sweet! He’s really raisin’ the bar for my expectations in men.”

Javi’s chest puffed out a little, and you snorted.

“He really is dreamy,” you said.

“So, dreamy.”

True to his word, he was on his best behavior. He followed you around, watching as you took vitals, administered medications, and made sure each and every patient was comfortable; Javi had the fondest expression on his face as he watched you interact with everyone, seeing the care, and making people smile even while they were in pain.

Only some of the patients asked why Javier Peña was in their room, you explaining that he was thinking about making a career change, and them looking very confused.

It was hard not being able to kiss him or touch him, but it was nice having him there, making easy conversation between your tasks, and Javi being genuinely interested in what you were doing, asking questions as you did things.

The worst times were when you’d have to go into a supply closet, and Javi was right there, the tension palpable, feeling his eyes on your body and knowing he was struggling just as much as you were. He’d open the door, and when he pressed his hand to your back to lead you out, your skin tingled under your scrubs, making you shiver.

At lunch, you took him to the basement cafeteria, letting him in on the secret that the grilled cheese was the best thing on the menu, the two of you eating your sandwiches at a table situated in a corner, Javi’s foot rubbing up and down your calf, making warmth spread through your body while you talked between bites.

He stole a kiss after lunch.

It was in the elevator, the two of you alone, the tension that had been building for hours finally snapping the moment the doors closed. He had you turning to face him, kissing you desperately, hungrily, swallowing the surprised sound in your throat, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he walked you back up against the wall.

It felt like there was a buzz of electricity under your skin, arousal burning brightly in your belly, feeling how much it’d been killing him not being able to kiss you, the man ravenous in the way he wasn’t wasting any time tasting every inch of your mouth. His broad hands moved up your front, palming your breasts through your blue scrubs, Javi wanting to get his fill of you, your fingers clutched on his waist for something to hold onto.

The elevator dinged, and Javi stepped away from you, leaving you in a daze as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, straightening his tie like he hadn’t just been giving you a toe-curling, cunt-clenching kiss seconds before.

“Come on, Cielito,” he said, stepping forward to hold the elevator door open.

Your brain was mush, had ceased functioning—pretty sure all of the blood had rushed to your pussy with the way it was throbbing.

Your lack of movement and response had Javi looking concerned.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

It seemed you could finally speak.

“Just having trouble thinking.”

Could you walk? You’d have to try. Oh god, your legs were a little wobbly, stumbling as you started moving, Javi immediately stepping to your side with a whispered shit as he grasped your arm and waist to steady you, helping you get out of the elevator.

“Kiss was that good?” he whispered for only you to hear.

“Shut up.”

You were finally getting your wits about you, shrugging him off, Javi walking at your side down the hall.

He leaned towards you to whisper some more, “I’m just saying, baby, I didn’t even put my dick in you, and you could barely walk.”

“Shut up, Javier,” you said through your teeth, making him laugh.

“You’re cute.”

“You’re a goddamn menace.”

It was an hour after lunch. A new patient had been brought in around eleven that morning, sleeping off the sedation the last time you did rounds.

Edgar Morales was a twenty-five-year-old male recovering from knee surgery.

Javi was with you when you went to check to see if he’d woken up, finding that he had, his eyes heavy-lidded and looking like he was feeling good on the pain medication.

“Are you an angel?” Edgar slurred as you checked his vitals.

“Afraid not,” you smiled. “How are you feeling, Mr. Morales?”

“You look like an angel,” he said, sounding drunk.

“Thank you! That’s nice of you to say. Now, I’m curious if you’re feeling any pain?”

“A little bit,” he answered with a frown.

“Okay,” you nodded. “We’ll see about pain meds a bit later. Are you hungry?”

You were aware that he hadn’t eaten since the night before, his eyes going wide.

“I’m starving,” he nodded.

“Well, let’s get you something to eat. It will have to be light; we don’t want to upset your stomach.”

You named off the different cracker choices you had and some drink options, Edgar settling on saltines and apple juice.

“You’re so pretty, and you feed me,” he said, smiling lazily. “You really are an angel—mi ángel.”

“You’re sweet, but really I’m just your nurse—it’s my job to take care of you. I’ll be right back.”

Javi was a little stiff as he followed you and unusually quiet.

The two of you were alone in the small room where the snacks and drinks were kept.

“Stop sulking,” you said as you filled a styrofoam cup with apple juice.

“I’m not sulking,” he grumbled, and you could hear him frowning behind you.

“You’re absolutely sulking.” You put a lid on the cup and shoved a bendy straw through the hole in the top, moving to grab a handful of individually packaged crackers. “He’s high out of his mind and harmless—he’s not a threat.”

“I didn’t think he was,” Javi sniffed.

Finally, you faced him, seeing the grumpy look on his face, his arms crossed over his chest.

“If it wasn’t off limits, I’d give you a kiss and make you feel better, so just imagine me kissing you with tongue, probably grabbing your butt, too. You know I’m a sucker for you in your suits,” you said, wiggling your eyebrows.

That made him smile.

“You’re a sucker for everything I wear.”

“That’s true,” you didn’t deny. “But there’s something about the suits—it’s like a powerful man roleplay or something, I don’t know, it does something to me.”

His hand went to his mouth, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip as his eyes darkened.

“You want me to pretend I’m your boss or something sometime?”

That gave you pause, your eyes widening, swallowing hard as you looked away, feeling heat licking up your neck.

“Maybe,” you finally answered. You met his eyes again. “No seducing me while I’m working.”

“I asked a question.” He smirked.

Your eyes narrowed.

“A sexy question, and you know I love when you do the thumb thing, so you are seducing me.”

Javi sighed.

“It’s so fucking hard not being able to kiss you,” he said.

“I know.”

“Or touch you.”

“I know.”

“I’m kissing you when we get home.”

“I pictured us making out all the way to the shower and still kissing in there.”

“That sounds about right.”

“Okay. No more sulking. I love you, and you are the only person I love.”

“I love you, too.”

“Good,” you said with a nod.

Returning to Edgar’s room, his face lit up when he saw you again. You guessed he was kinda handsome, a bit boyish with big brown eyes, his nose a little crooked. You got his tray situated over his lap, putting down his crackers and juice, Edgar already eating before you’d stepped away, moaning as he chewed.

“Will you marry me?” he asked with his mouth full.

This was a question you got a lot at work, people always exceptionally happy when you gave them food after they had to fast for their procedures.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Morales, I’m already very happily engaged,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your ring, watching his face drop.

“He’s a lucky man,” Edgar said forlornly, sadly taking a sip of his juice.

“I know,” Javi replied, and Edgar’s gaze locked on him, looking like he just realized there was another person in the room, setting his cup down.

The young man’s eyes landed on you again.

“You’re marrying your boss?” he asked with wide eyes.

“What? No, Javi’s not my boss. He doesn’t work here. He’s just watching me do my job.”

“Oh. He looks like some kind of boss man dressed like that. I hope he makes you happy. You only deserve the best, mi ángel.”

“I promise, he makes me incredibly happy. How are you feeling?”

“Amazing,” he replied, smiling.

“That’s good!” You grabbed the remote that was attached to the bed. “If you need anything, hit the call button. Otherwise, I’ll check on you in a bit.”

You and Javi walked down the empty hallway back to the Nurse’s station.

“You really get proposed to all the time,” Javi said.

“I really do.”

“Really fucking surprised you cried when I asked—even more surprised you said yes. I feel like you’d be numb to the question by now.”

“That’s the thing, Javi,” you said, both of you coming to a stop as you met his eyes. “I’m not in love with those other people who propose. When they ask, it’s just words, they’re meaningless, but I love you. So when you asked if I’d marry you, it meant something, it was a question I was longing to hear, and the moment those words came out of your mouth, it made me feel like I was going to explode from happiness, just over the fucking moon. You could ask me to marry you every day for the rest of our lives, and every time I would answer yes, because I love you, and you are the person I want to be with.”

You could see what you’d said had gotten to him, his eyes shining, smiling softly, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

The emotion was thick in his voice, “God, I want to kiss you so fucking bad.”

“Just imagine—”

“Already am,” he interrupted. “I love you, Cielito.”

“I love you, too, Javi.”

You started walking side by side again, his hand brushing against yours, a little smile forming on your lips when his pinky latched around your own, touched by the small gesture.

The remaining hours of your shift passed by quickly, Javi and you practically booking it from the hospital when it was time to go, him following behind you in his truck all the way back to the apartment, the two of you parking next to each other, walking together to the front door, Javi getting the door open, you stepping in first.

A surprised gasp fell from your lips as you found yourself being pushed up against the closed door, Javi’s mouth crashing onto yours, kissing you hard.

The room was glowing in a rainbow of colors from the decorated Christmas tree by the front window, presents wrapped beneath it, the radio in your living room softly playing Christmas music.

It was a bit surreal to have Javi kissing you like his life depended on it while Wham’s “Last Christmas” played, his tongue in your mouth tangling with your own, his hands moving, pulling your purse off your arm to toss haphazardly onto the entry table, him toeing off his shoes, and throwing his keys in the direction of the table also, but hearing them clatter on the floor. He felt up your stomach and along your sides, groaning as he kissed you, you answering in moans, your fingers working open the buttons of his suit jacket and pushing it down his arms, not caring where it landed.

“Fucking missed you,” he said into your lips.

“You were with me all day.”

“Missed kissing you.” He kissed you hard again, his hands mapping out your torso and squeezing your breasts. “Missed touching you.” He reached down to grab your ass, his tongue pressing back into your mouth.

He was hungry for you, needing to kiss you, needing to touch you.

Gripping the hem of your shirt, he pulled it off, his mouth finding yours again while he expertly unlatched your bra and tugged it down your arms. His hands roamed, touching every piece of skin they could, while you loosened his tie and discarded it, thinking it might have landed on the tree, your fingers undoing the buttons on his dress shirt and getting him to shrug it off. His skin was warm to your touch, feeling his pecs and down to his softened belly, moving to grab a handful of his ass.

He started walking backward, and you followed, kicking off your shoes as you went, the two of you continuing to kiss, touching each other as you walked, only pausing in the bedroom to get the rest of your clothes off before you were kissing again, unable to stop.

The shower involved more making out and stealing kisses as you washed each other, the two of you getting out with big smiles on your faces as you dried off.

Once you both had put on clothes, you opting for Javi’s old green t-shirt and a pair of pajama shorts, him in his grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt that looked sinful with how it stretched over his shoulders, the two of you finally settled down on the floor in front of the Christmas tree to open presents.

“Javi?”

He was divvying up the presents in front of you both, groaning as he stretched to grab more under the tree.

“Yes, Cielito?”

“Thank you for making this the best Christmas I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

He sat up, smiling softly, turning his head to look at you.

“You might hate your presents,” he said.

“I don’t care about the presents—you could get me coal, and this would still be the best fucking Christmas.”

“Fuck, how’d you know what I got you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss you. “You’ve been extra naughty this year.” He pinched your thigh playfully, making you giggle.

“Javi, I’m serious.” Your words were muffled against his lips.

He pulled back to look at you, his eyes rounding.

“It’s been the best fucking Christmas for me, too.” He cupped your jaw. “Thank you for spending it with me.”

“You’re the one who figured out a way to spend it with me. Thank you!”

“You’re really fucking good at your job—I loved watching you work and seeing how much you care. You’re so fucking incredible.”

“Stop being sweet. We need to open gifts and not have me suck your dick.”

He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you tenderly.

“There’s always after opening presents,” he said into your mouth.

“Yeah, there is.”

Finally separating, you looked at the presents in front of you, seeing each wrapped with different wrapping paper, able to tell which one’s Javi did himself, not looking as pristine as some of the others, and it warmed your heart how hard he tried to do a good job.

There were five presents for you and eight for Javi.

Normally, you spent Christmas alone. No family close by, friends busy, and it never bothered you, happy to watch festive movies, drink a bottle of wine, and open the presents you got yourself and the couple your family would send.

Your favorite part of the holiday was decorating, wanting to put up your tree as soon as was socially acceptable because seeing the lights and ornaments, all of the reminders of fun times, and memories of collecting them brought you joy.

Seeing how happy Javi looked, boyishly grinning as he took in his pile of presents, you thought this was your new favorite—having someone to share the day with.

“Which should I open first?” you asked, looking at your gifts.

Javi reached to grab a small rectangular present, it clearly wrapped at a store with its glossy red wrapping paper, and perfect bow, handing it to you.

“This one. What about me?”

“The big one.”

He had one gift that was a bit larger than the others and also rectangular.

Pulling off the bow, you got to unwrapping your gift, squealing when you found what was inside.

“Oh my god! Javi, I can’t believe it!” you said excitedly, turning towards him. “How did you know?” you asked, pulling the perfume from the box and spraying some on your wrist. “Oh my god, it’s the one I loved. Javier, oh my god, how did you know?” you asked again.

He was smiling so big, clearly happy you liked what he got.

“Baby, I was there when you tried it out.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you were paying attention.”

“I always pay attention, and it smelled fucking good—you needed it.”

“Thank you!” you threw your arms over his shoulders and kissed him, Javi grabbing your arm to smell your wrist.

“Smells fucking amazing,” he said, letting go, you smelling it yourself.

“It really does. Ugh, I love you. Open your gift!”

“Okay,” he chuckled, unwrapping it, and opening the box. “New boots?” he asked, pulling one out. They were dark brown leather Chelsea boots that you’d spent a good amount of money on, wanting them to be high quality. He was checking it out, looking at all of the details. “These are fucking nice, baby. How much were these?” he looked over at you with big eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said with a wave of your hand. “You’ve had your other pair for ages, and it was time for new ones—only wanted you to have the best.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss you.

The boot was put back in the box, Javi handing you a medium size square box that he clearly wrapped himself, the paper decorated in reindeer, the creases not entirely flat.

Opening it, you found a little Jade succulent.

“I wanted to get this at the garden center!” you said.

“I know,” he nodded.

Your eyes were beginning to water. You hadn’t had any expectations on gifts, hadn’t really cared, to be honest, but seeing each present so far was something that he’d noticed you wanted? It was making you feel a bit weepy at how much he loved you. You couldn’t help yourself and had to kiss him again, telling him to open his next present, a small box.

He gasped when he opened it.

“You got me a fucking Rolex?” He sounded so shocked, looking at you with a matching expression. “This is too fucking much—baby, I... I can’t. These aren’t cheap.”

“You can, and don’t worry about the cost—it was the cheapest one, but I know how much you’ve wanted one, so I figured I’d get it for you.” You shrugged.

Javi was well aware that you made decent money with your job and were relatively debt free with a healthy savings account. This was something you could afford.

“I… fuck, thank you, baby,” he said, leaning over to kiss you. It made you smile as he immediately removed his old watch and put on the new one.

His next two gifts to you were books you’d talked about wanting to read.

He was delighted when his remaining presents were all clothes items he knew you wanted to see him in and that he teased you relentlessly about as he opened the two henley long-sleeved shirts, the blue flannel, the grey flannel, and a pack of Calvin Klein boxer briefs. He smiled warmly at the new tie you got him, it navy blue with a soft orange floral pattern on it, that he told you he’d wear when he went to work on Monday. His last gift was a pack of socks, the man honestly giddy, knowing that most of the ones he currently had were worn out and beginning to develop holes.

Handing you your last gift, he was looking at you nervously.

“I think I got the right size—I kept the receipt.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, wondering what he got you, able to tell he wrapped this one himself, the present all lumpy like he wasn’t entirely sure how to wrap it, making you smile.

Tearing the paper, it was your turn to gasp, finding the sweater you’d been eyeing the day you went to the mall.

“You got me the sweater!”

“I got you the sweater.”

You checked the size.

“It’s the right size! It’s perfect! Oh my god,” you choked, unable to stop the tears as you started crying.

Javi frowned, his eyebrows creasing, reaching to cup your cheeks and make you look at him.

“Cielito, what’s wrong?”

“It’s been the best Christmas,” you sobbed. “The sex, you being with me all day at work, getting me all of these things I wanted,” you said, holding up the sweater. “I’m just so fucking happy, and you’re so fucking perfect, and I can’t believe how fucking amazing today has been. I just love you so much, and I’m crying about it.” You cried harder, tears streaming down your face.

“Oh, baby,” he said softly, his thumbs wiping away your tears. His eyes were shining now, too, leaning in and placing gentle kisses against each of your cheeks, forehead, the tip of your nose, and finally, your lips, sweetly kissing you. He sounded a little choked up when he broke the kiss, meeting your watery eyes, “I’m really fucking happy, too.” You could see it in his gaze, the dark pools glowing with adoration, his hands cupping your cheeks. “I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed Christmas, fuck, it was probably when I still lived at home with my parents. I’ve been alone for a long fucking time and didn’t bother with the holiday shit unless it was against my will—”

“Steve and Connie,” you giggled, sniffling softly. .

“Yeah,” he said, smiling crookedly. “Steve and Connie, making sure I didn’t spend my holidays alone at home drinking. I’ve got you now, and this has been the best fucking Christmas—makes me look forward to all the other holidays, too, cause you’re here to celebrate them with me, and you make me so fucking happy, Cielito. I love you so goddamn much it makes my chest fucking hurt. Thank you for choosing me.” His thumbs stroked the apples of your cheeks, looking deeply into your eyes. “Thank you for wanting to marry me.” He grabbed your left hand, bringing it up to kiss the ring on your finger. “Thank you for loving me,” he said, kissing you so tenderly and making you cry again at his sweet words.

“Thank you for loving me,” you replied between kisses.

The kissing was very wet, but neither of you cared, your fingers threading through his hair, letting him deepen it, moaning as his tongue slid along your own, feeling so fucking happy and loved, knowing he felt the same.

Your lungs began to ache for oxygen, pulling away from him with panted breaths. You wiped the wetness off your face with your hand.

“I have one more present for you,” you said.

Javi looked under the tree, eyes scanning the mess of torn wrapping paper and piles of presents, looking confused.

“What?” he asked, meeting your eyes.

“It was too small to go with the rest,” you said, getting up from the floor and carefully stepping over everything to stand next to the tree, pulling Javi’s tie off it and tossing it over onto the couch. You grabbed the red envelope that you’d pushed into the branches, moving to hand it to him.

“What’s this?” he asked, seeing his name written in your script on the front.

“Open it,” you said, vibrating with excitement.

He had a curious expression on his face as he tore open the top of the thick envelope, pulling out what it contained.

“Coupons for Javier Peña…” he read slowly, looking up at you with his eyebrows knit together. “What’s this?” he asked again.

“Open it and read!”

He carefully opened the book, his eyes going wide as his eyes scanned the first page.

“‘Redeem for one quickie,’” he read, flipping to the next page. “‘A sensual massage.’” Another page. “‘Roleplay.’” You saw him visibly gulp when he saw the following page, “Shit,” he gasped. “Anal?” he looked up at you, looking hopeful.

You nodded, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth.

“Yeah. Just give me one of those, and we’ll do whatever it says, circumstances permitting, and of course, like safe words and such, but I thought they’d be fun,” you said, wagging your eyebrows.

He was reading each page, his sweatpants beginning to tent.

“This one just says, ‘Titties,’ does that mean that you’ll show me your tits?” he asked, glancing at you.

“See them, touch them, suck them, come on them, fuck them, the world’s your oyster, baby, and with that,” you pointed at what he was holding, “you can do whatever you want to my titties.”

A grin spread on his face as he kept going through the book, hearing him whispering fuck here and there. You’d spent a lot of time making it, thinking of different things you knew he enjoyed and stuff he might like to try.

Getting to the end, he looked beyond excited.

“This is a great fucking present,” he said. “Come here. I wanna kiss you.”

Walking over to him, he pulled you into his lap to straddle his thighs, his hands cupping your face as he looked at you with dark eyes.

“Thank you, Cielito,” he said, leaning in and kissing you so hard the breath left your lungs.

When the kissing stopped, he rested his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your middle, hearing him turning pages in his book before there was a rip of paper, Javi moving to look you in the eyes once more.

“I’d, uh, like to redeem this one,” he said, handing you the piece of paper. You eagerly took it, wanting to see what he chose, your cunt clenching as you read the coupon.

“Oh, yes,” you purred, meeting his gaze. “We’ll need to have dinner first—something light.”

Javi smiled so big his dimple appeared, kissing you eagerly.

The hard length of Javi’s cock was buried so deep inside you, feeling so fucking full with your ass flush against his lap as he sat on the couch with your knees on either side of his hips. Your pussy was pulsating around him, his tongue curling with your own, a sheen of sweat on your skin from the few orgasms he’d pulled from you during the last hour you’d been in this position, Javi staying still underneath you as you warmed his dick.

His lap was drenched, glad that he thought to put down a towel, feeling his cock twitch inside you, your cunt clenching.

He sounded pained, “Fuck, don’t clench,” he said into your lips. “Gonna make me come.”

You moaned, Javi thoroughly kissing you, his fingers rolling your pebbled nipple and squeezing your other breast, trying to ignore the jolts of pleasure that were shooting to your pussy.

The sky had darkened outside, the room awash in a soft, colorful glow, filled with the sounds of quiet moans, panting breaths, and the low hum of Christmas music in the background.

Javi’s face was flushed, the skin of his chest pinked up, and his body glistening with perspiration, doing his fucking best not to fuck up into you.

The coupon had read, ‘Cockwarming for however long you want,’ and you knew you were going to be here for hours, Javi making sure you were both comfortable, bottles of water within reach, and your small bullet vibrator on the couch next to you.

He felt so deep you thought he might be in your guts, able to feel his cock all hard and throbbing, his mouth moving against yours in a passionate kiss, arousal simmering in your belly, and beginning to ache from the need to come again—fighting the want to roll your hips and chase some friction.

You must have wiggled because Javi grabbed your hips hard to keep you still.

His voice was low and raspy, sounding wrecked, “Need to come again, Cielito?” The question asked into your mouth.

“Yes,” you answered.

“Okay, baby,” he said, kissing you softly. “I’ve calmed down—gonna make you come.”

His hand fumbled beside you on the couch, grabbing the vibrator and hearing the dull hum as he turned it on. The anticipation had you squirming in his lap, gasping when he pressed it to your stomach, the vibrations tingling on your skin as he moved it up to circle around your stiff nipple. It was like he had a direct line to your pussy, feeling sparks igniting in your center, moaning loudly as you clenched around him. Javi groaned as he licked into your mouth, your fingers gripping his hair tight, the vibrator moving to tease your other bud, revving you up, heightening everything inside you, and making you want more, no, need more.

“Javi,” you whined.

“Your fucking soaking me, baby,” he said, lips pressed into your chin. “Fucking love when I play with your tits. You want it on your pussy? Want it on that pretty little clit?”

“Yes,” you gasped.

He nipped at your jaw, “My needy girl.”

The vibrator moved away, returning between your legs to touch your swollen clit. The thrumming vibrations had your spine straightening, loudly moaning Javi’s name, feeling like every nerve in your body was alight with the shocks of pleasure jolting in your core.

Your body began to tremble, knees shaking, your heart pounding in your chest, the sparks of your arousal turning to flames that were growing rapidly, soon to be a full-on inferno. His lips latched around your pebbled peak, sucking hard, your back arching as you cried out his name.

The sensations had warmth spreading from your pussy through your belly, tightening your nipples, making you flutter around Javi’s cock—soft sounds falling from your lips, your fingers gripping his hair, needing something to hold onto.

“I’m so close,” you moaned.

The muscles in your belly were constricting, the sharp spike of heat growing in your core, beginning to overtake you.

His head came up, “Come on, baby,” he rasped. “Soak my dick. Come for me.”

You felt yourself dripping, beginning to writhe, Javi pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss as your body started to seize, every muscle contracting until you were coming with a gasp. Euphoria spread through your veins, your pussy spasming and clenching down hard on his cock. A pained groan rumbled from Javi’s throat, feeling him jerk inside you and the familiar warmth of him coming deep in your depths—come and your release leaking into his lap.

Thankfully, he had the presence of mind to switch off the vibrator and discard it before nuzzling his face in your neck, feeling his hot breaths as he panted. You felt utterly relaxed, your brain foggy with pleasure, stroking your fingers through his sweat-damp hair, enjoying the happy chemicals flowing in your body.

It could have been a minute, or minutes, staying in the moment as your heartbeats slowed together and you came down from your highs, but at some point, a giggle slipped from your lips, feeling fuck drunk and floaty.

His head came up to look at you, his eyebrow quirked.

The question came out rough, “What?” he asked.

You laughed breathlessly, smiling as you tapped your finger to the tip of his nose.

“Got you,” you said, erupting into giggling laughter again.

He did his best to keep a straight face, but it became too much, his mouth turning up in a smile, unable to stop chuckling.

Slapping your ass, he crashed his lips against yours, “You didn’t get me,” he said into your mouth.

“Yes, I did—my pussy is that powerful, making you come involuntarily. I fucking got you.”

“Fine,” he chuckled, smacking your ass again. “You fucking got me—I’m at the mercy of your pussy.”

“That’s fucking right.”

He moved to look you in the eyes, seeing his bright with mirth, a crooked smile on his lips.

“I love you,” he said.

You stroked your fingers through his hair before smoothing your thumbs over his eyebrows.

“I love you, too,” you replied.

“Merry Christmas, Cielito.” He turned his head to kiss your wrist.

“Merry Christmas, Javi.” Kissing his cheek, Javi moved to meet your mouth, a soft press of his lips against yours, until you were pulling back to meet his gaze, seeing him looking so happy, and like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. “I wanna stay like this forever,” you sighed happily.

His hand moved along your cheek and into your hair, caressing your face.

“Gonna keep my dick in you all night,” he husked, clenching at his words. His eyes closed for a moment with a gasp. “Fuck, I’m already getting hard again.” His eyes met yours, the desire shining so clear. “We’re not moving from here—want you to keep me warm.”

Your eyebrow rose.

“We’ll have to get up at some point to go to the bathroom,” you said. “I love you, but a UTI is a no, thank you from me—we’d both have a bad time. Also, sleeping like this will absolutely fuck up your back, so I suggest a quick break eventually, then the cockwarming continues in the comfort of our bed.”

“You have the best ideas, baby,” Javi smiled, moving to kiss you.

“I know.”

Your ears picked up on the song that started playing on the radio, unable to stop from smiling as you broke the kiss.

“Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?” he asked with a lazy smile.

“It’s your favorite song.”

You saw as he realized, his eyes closing with a groan making you laugh.

“It’s overplayed,” he grumbled.

“Yes,” you giggled. “But just remember, Javi, all I want for Christmas is you,” you said, kissing him.

“You’ve got me, baby,” he murmured against your lips, his arms moving to hug you to him. “For fucking ever, Cielito.”

And you knew that was true.

This was the first of many magical Christmases you’d share with the love of your life, Javier Peña. He was the best thing to ever happen to you—bringing happiness, joy, and love (the orgasms a bonus).

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

Tagging: @theorganasolo @nicolethered @lola766 @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 @notyourlovemonkey @unofficialavenger90 @fictionismyreality @sheetsof-lennon @damnyoupedro @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @athalien @thevoiceinyourheadx @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @mswarriorbabe80 @katareyoudrilling @iamskyereads @enjoyourlattebitch @laureliciousdefinition @kulicny

#pedro pascal #Javier Peña #javier peña/reader #javier peña x you #javier peña smut #wheresarizona writes #learning to live series

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mettleborn · 4 months

Text

Open Starter

Muse: Igor Bortsov

Verse: main verse (Russian Mafia)

“Women are…complicated.”

A wry smile afflicts the Pakhan’s face as he notices the obvious pause that preceded his associate’s particular choice of adjective. The American is not wrong of course, though Igor suspects the man’s words have more to do with the fact his wife is a well-known adulteress as opposed to representing an actual epiphany regarding the opposite sex.

As the faint sound of shuffling feet is heard at the door of Igor’s office, immediately the American’s body guards react, drawing their guns and contorting themselves into the most ridiculous shapes; the kind of protective stances they surely learned from watching too much Miami Vice.

“Uspokoit'sya.” (calm down) The Pakhan commands, causally waving away any notion of threat before draining the rest of his drink, the chilled vodka both cooling and warming his throat simultaneously. Normally Igor doesn’t tolerate interruptions, but she, of course, is the exception; always the exception in fact.

#[Igor Bortsov]#[Main verse: Russian Mafia - Modern]#Open Starter #((Feel free to play the character coming in...or the American...or anyone else in the room...make the NPCs do anything you want XD))

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oliviajdjarin · 10 months

Text

Two Birds with One Stone

Pairing: miguel x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Summary: Miguel is of the opinion that revenge is best served cold.

Warnings: blood! violent miguel, swearing, cocky miguel, probably incorrect science, some biblical references, descriptions of dead bodies, HEA. Technically a part two to Come Hell or High Water, but can be read on its own.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read part one, especially @vanilla-sweets @blueberry-thrawn @freehentai. You guys rock.

Word Count: 1.3k Type: blurb

Miguel O'Hara never knew how easy it would be rely on the omnipresent arrogance of a narcissistic Doc Oc variant. It was shocking, really, how little the Doctor believed himself capable of making a mistake. One could argue that it was his downfall, his Achilles heel, his fatal flaw.

Miguel was beginning to learn that everyone had one of those, his being the woman the Doctor still had in his titanium clutches, and that was okay. Because if there was one thing Miguel was nauseatingly good at, it was at finding people's faults.

Funny enough, he had found the way to get you back purely unwittingly.

He had been staring at his orchestra of beaming yellow monitors in the early hours of the morning and fell into the insatiably seductive trap of merely "resting his eyes."

"Just for a minute," he whispered, voice dripping in aching exhaustion, and dropped his head right onto the keyboard.

After a moment, he was woken by a piercing ringing in his ears. He figured it was a rogue anomaly alarm, causing him to bring his tender neck up and his swollen eyes scanning his screens once more. It took a few seconds for Miguel to process what he was looking at.

A tiny, flashing, lime green light blinking right at the center of the Spider-Verse, its diagnostic reading "Anomaly Found, Canon At Risk."

He shook his head, readying himself for disappointment. There was no way the Doctor would just...reveal himself, right? Unless it was a trap? Or some kind of scheme?

Or maybe, just maybe, the Doctor had made a mistake.

Miguel clicked on the diagnostic, reading further into the fine print. His eyes squinted as he read, one word from the comprehensive paragraph burning into his beaten frontal lobe.

Being currently dozing.

He rubbed his eyes, reading the words again, and again, and again.

The Doctor had fucking fallen asleep, effectively de-powering his tracking repellant installed in the chip of his brainstem. Without his conscious mind keeping the arms powered, therefore not keeping the inhibitor powered, his restrictions on his location were terminated.

Therefore, the restrictions on your location were terminated.

Miguel felt coolness drape itself over his body, a twitching sensation begin in his left eye, and an itching, tiny, yet incandescent glow begin to bloom across his chest and down his thighs.

The familiar, almost homey, grounding feeling of calculation and strategizing washed over him like a baptism. Renewing him from the wallowing man he had been, to the righteous one he was.

He knew how to be quick. He knew how to be efficient. He knew that getting you out was the main priority, while defeating the Doctor was secondary.

But Miguel had never been talented at only using his head.

A chilling, feline smile etched its way onto his face, his fangs dipping slightly over his bottom lip. His triceps flexed, his eyes narrowed, and his determination dropped like a stone in his stomach, sending ripples through the rest of his muscles.

Why not kill two birds with one stone?

"In the name of efficiency, of course," he mumbled, and powered up his gizmo.

~*~

Miguel O'Hara realized two things at once.

Firstly, Miguel didn't realize what he had done. The scope of it, the brevity, the fucking gore of it. Not until he stood still, the Doctor's mutilated corpse in front of him, metallic arms ripped from his body, clutched in Miguel's hands, dripping ooze and blood and bone.

Miguel didn't realize what he had done until that moment, and consecutively, how little he cared.

He hadn't hesitated. Not when the Doctor begged for mercy, just as Miguel had done. Not when the light began to slowly fade from the Doctor's eyes as his back became shredded, his spine shattered, and his brain ripped in half. Not when blood so red it was almost wine colored began dripping from Miguel's claws, effectively soaking the skin of his abdomen and upper thighs. No, Miguel hadn't hesitated.

And he didn't fucking care.

"Y/N," he yelled, throwing the dismembered pieces onto the metallic floor. He was in a warehouse of some kind, likely of the Doctor's own design. It was cold, grey, and composed of only panels and panels of sound-proof metal. No one could hear what was happening from the outside, and no one inside could hear what was happening outside.

His skin crawled and his jaw clenched at the thought.

He yelled your name once, twice, three more times. His fangs protruding from how wide he was opening his mouth, his deep bloodlust-filled voice regurgitating across the walls in an echo with a thrilling crescendo. He began to panic, his chest puffing at the thought that the Doctor had taken you somewhere else. That he sacrificed himself on purpose to send Miguel on an endless goose chase that ended with his own eventual death.

Because he would never stop searching. Never. You were worth spending the rest of his life a shepherd, looking for his one lost sheep.

He opened his mouth and strained his vocal chords one final time, and just as he was about to scream your name in a way that made every emotion he was feeling completely transparent to you, he heard a clanging from beneath his feet, and the muffled sound of his name.

His eyes locked on the bolts surrounding the small square he was standing on, as well as a small vent near his left foot, and realization washed over him.

It took him less than fifteen seconds to pry the hatch open, and pull you out.

His brain became muffled at the sight of you again - eyes he had gotten to know the color of so well, mouth with lips he could never seem to wipe away the feeling of, neck and jawline he had been desperate to trace one last time. Your features had always been striking to him, and with the blood and grime from the last few days strewn across them, he somehow found them even more so.

He only took a few seconds to admire you before practically tearing your suit in half, inspecting your wounds.

"Miguel," you said, you voice noticeably groggier from multiple days without use, "he let me bandage and clean them. I'm fine."

Miguel ran his fingers over your middle, inspecting your craftsmanship, pressing down on the bandages to ensure any bleeding or oozing had long since passed. He felt your soft fingers grasp underneath his chin, bringing his head up. You didn't hesitate to press his equally dirty forehead to yours, closing your eyes, breathing him in.

"I'm fine," you repeated, and Miguel exhaled shakily.

He let himself bask in the moment, forgetting the pain and carnage of the past, and the uncertainty of the future. Here he was, here and now, with his woman.

He hadn't failed you.

You brushed his hair from his face before pressing a quick kiss to his chiseled cheekbone. You then attempted to stand up before halting halfway, your face grimacing at the strain of the motion against your torn muscles.

He rotated your worn body into his arms, picking you up as a husband would his bride, and holding you close. He walked you from the warehouse, leaving the Doctor's body to wither and rot.

He grinned down at you. "How did you get him to fall asleep?"

You snorted, eyes closing against his swol chest. "You said I could experiment with my suit whenever I wanted. I took advantage of the opportunity," you said with a yawn.

Miguel's eyebrows furrowed when he caught the cocktail of scents in the air - carly sage, fresh roses, and a hint of lavender oil. You must have installed a ventilation of it as a fail-safe, the vent in your dungeon the perfect vessel to permeate it around the room.

He couldn't help but grin. "You truly scare me sometimes."

You looked up at Miguel one last time before succumbing to the exhaustion of your wounds. "You've never scared me."

He had never heard anything sweeter.

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @buckysblondie @tayleighuh

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara smut #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse spoilers #oscar isaac fic

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mechaknight-98 · 2 months

Text

Gathering CEDH edition: Once Upon Time

Author's notes: No this is not a repost. I am trying this a third time. I now have a clear understanding of What I want to do with the series. I wanted to Streamline it as an Izone/Izone's daughter group and Dreamcatcher fic. The Main characters are also a bit more refined this time around as I have figured out how they connect. I also have now consolidated a lot of the bloat the previous version had to focus on better storytelling between the characters. So sit back and Enjoy the New Version. Think of it as a Director's cut.

I entered the new Photography collective my friend Dexter asked me to join. The goal was to create a group that could help each other rise in related industries relating to Photography, film, directing, scriptwriting, producing, etc. I was unsure of the efficacy as most of us were amateurs with some experience but not much. Dexter was the most well-versed of us as he was getting cameraman jobs for several TV shows and his roommate and other member of this collective Connor was in the same boat. I was just some rando they found on social media who had an insane appetite and penitence for artistic expression in all forms I could get my hands on. so these two "extroverts" Our first meeting I learned that we were all Nexos and fans of the game Magic the Gathering. This made building a relationship that much easier as our first meeting ended up with us playing a game of Commander. Connor was a Jeskai player, and Dexter was a Temur player. Thankfully I could play anything so our games were always varied. I began to lean into Sultai a lot as it was the colors I felt were most reflective of my player mindset. it also had the highest number of my favorite creature types Ooze. (WotC if you are reading this please give me a legendary Ooze elder dragon in Sultai that becomes copies of things when attacked that would be so cool). One day after the Aespa concert we all went to Connor made a huge reveal.

Connor sat at his computer waiting for another round of historic brawl on MTGA (Magic the Gathering Arena). He was on a roll with your kinda junky “Omnath Locus of all” deck. He stepped away to grab a snack from your fridge across the hall but came clamoring, and running back when you heard the ding of a match found. It was against a person with the name Scorpion’s-love-00. He noticed the name was funny and chuckled at the beginning of the match. You did your tradition of “ggs” before the match. He focused up and eased in. She was playing a bit of a serious deck helmed by Kyodai that relied on flickering and cloning the dragon spirit numerous times so her board became almost impenetrable. The only problem she was playing against someone who thrived in unbeatable situations. For each new indestructible body she put on the field you retaliated with more interaction in the form of bouncing exile until she was tapped out and drawing empty on resources. To finish her off Connor ended with a simple draw Connor the whole deck into Thassa’s oracle. As the scene shifts to the win screen, Connor sighs a sigh of relief. The win was tough but well-earned. Connor relaxed and decided to send a friend request to Scorpion’s-Love-00. you enjoyed playing with them and thought it would be fun to play with them again. He was surprised to have the friend request not only accepted but also a message attached.

“Hey! What’s your discord?” the message read. Seeing this as Harmless He responded

“Infinite #2782” Connor responded. To his continued surprise there was another ding and a new friend request from a “Scorpio Rapper 00” He accepted and was treated to the following messages.

“wow, you kicked my butt. You must know your stuff. How long have you been playing?”

Connor smiled and responded, “I am decent, and you didn’t fare too badly yourself.”

The message that came in response read “ ;] I bet you say that to all the girls you beat.”

Connor responds “Only the nice and cute ones.”

You say the message typing and then this message you, “Aw you're so sweet. I want to take a bite out of you.”

Connor laughed and responded “Lol, Lol” and for the next few hours, he talked with Scorpion flirting and helping her with deck ideas and builds. She was adamant about sending Connor pictures through messages as when he brought up the idea of screen sharing she freaked out.

“What are you some uber famous Mega star?” he asked innocently.

Scorpion replied “Something like that. Or maybe I am disfigured and I don’t want to scare you off.”

Connor smiled at her response. She was easy to talk to and so those hours flew by. Eventually leading to Connor needing to go to sleep. So Connor explained this to Scorpion.

“Aw, but we are barely halfway through my Hinata Dawn Crown deck and I need your expertise and card knowledge.” Connor sighs and respond

“I have work early in the morning I need to go to sleep but when I am free I will shoot you some more cards and ideas," Connor said

So with this, Connor fell into a routine. He would work, go home, go to sleep, work out, and play magic in either a shop or online (Usually with Scorpion). As he does this you get to know Scorpion. She is funny, sweet, caring, and ultimately a gentle soul. She also likes K-pop which is also a plus. One of the groups she is into is Aespa right now whom Connor loves. When she asks who’s your bias and you proudly say Giselle she laughs, but she insists she is laughing at something her roommate said and not him. She still refuses to do anything showing her face but he's seen her hands after she sent a video going through a completed paper high-powered Hinata deck that she adores. Eventually, this culminates with her making a voice call out of the blue

“Hey, you’re in New York City right?” Scorpion’s pleasant voice asks

“Um yeah, why?” Connor respond hesitantly

“Well let’s meet up?” I want to see what my friend who’s helped me get better at mtg looks like.

Connor hesitates. Scorpion waits for his response until she can’t bear it

“you didn’t hang up on me did you?” Scorpion asked anxiously

“Ah no. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that. Sure I am down what day and what time?” You respond quickly

“Good, How about in two weeks? At the Empire State Building?”

“Works for me.” He responds

“Great!! see you then.” Scorpion says a bit too excitedly.

As the weeks pass Connor tries to figure out a plan and an outfit to wear to meet Scorpion. As the day gets closer however your nerves lessen. Connor figures she’s going to bail as she has always not wanted to meet face to face. That is until Connor finds himself standing at the Peer waiting for her.

Connor was stressed but had chosen a killer look and had a dope plan all figured out. It’s a little chilly so he brought a windbreaker and some gloves. To ease his mind you put on some Aespa, you found their music oddly calming and familiar at this time. While you are chilling on the peer looking around when you get a call.

“Hey, it’s scorpion what do you look like? I am having trouble finding you.” Connor gives her a bare-bones description. That is specified only by the jacket you have on. Scorpion responds “Okay I think I see you.” and she hangs up. Well, here it is the moment of truth. You stand still for a few moments until you get a tap on your shoulder. You turn around and an extremely pretty young woman is staring at you expectantly.

“Scorpion?” Connor says hesitantly.

The young lady smiles and responds “ Yes I knew it was you!! but call me Aeri. Since that's my name. What about you” Connor laughs heavily, still starstruck that his mtg partner is a world-famous musician.

"Hello, earth to InFinite." Aeri laughed. Connor came out of his stupor to respond

"Connor Sun-won Kang." Connor stammers

"Wait Are you Korean?" Aeri asks

"half my mom was Welsh American...I think. I was adopted and only know what my "mom" told me about them." Connor explains

“Okay got it, and I am Aeri,” Aeri said

"I know but I am sure that's not what other people call you."

Aeri smiles as she responds. “No, but you’re not most people. Now are you?” she links his arm with hers and she says “Now let’s hurry I don’t have much time.” so begins the impromptu date with Aeri. The duo grab a bite to eat and then go through various rides and attractions on the island. As the date winds down the two find themselves in a taxi Connor looks at her still in shock. The rapper of Aespa and his bias Giselle was sitting across from you. All because he met her playing mtg.

“What?” she said “Do I have some ice cream still on my face?”

He shook his head and responded, “No you're just kinda prettier in person is all.” Aeri blushed.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she responds

“Aw, I bet you say that to all the boys you meet?”Connor teased.

Aeri laughs and responds. “Only the cute and nice ones. Lucky for you. You're both.” Connor tries to find things to talk about that aren’t magic but it does often get back to that. Aeri is hooked on the game and she picks Connor's brain for a thousand and one ideas.

“oh, I won my first commander night. The week before we flew out.” Aeri said with pride. “Guess which card you suggested cinched the game?”

he thought for a moment then responded “Aurelia’s fury”

Aeri nodded surprised. “I am impressed you do know your stuff, but I’d expect nothing less from the guy who’s been beating me up relentlessly over the past few months.”

You sigh and say “Well I have also been trying to encourage you as well. You are an excellent player and a very quick study, Plus that's how I learned from My roommate.”

Aeri smiled softly. “So when does that mean I can go against your paper deck?”

You wheezed at Aerie’s question, “Um yeah I don’t think you’re ready.” you said trying to catch your breath.” Aeri smiled.

“Why not?” She said innocently “I have some tricks up my sleeve you know.” You blink rapidly as flashes of numerous counter-spell wars and free interaction flash through your head from the games you played against Nathaniel your roommate.

“Uh yeah okay. Sure next time I see you I will bring my deck and we will play together one-on-one.” You respond slightly shell-shocked. smiles and claps

“So after the concert?” Aeri asks. Connor blinks again remembering and now cursing yourself how excited he was to be going to see Aespa. He is trying to figure a way to wiggle himself out of this until Aeri says, “What are you scared I’ll beat you?” Hearing that flips his hesitation and apprehension into bravado and completely earned confidence.

“Yeah definitely,” Connor announces sardonically. Aeri noticed the change in demeanor and smiled at him.

"there he is. My confident and passionate sparring partner." Aeri teases

After this Connor and Aeri part ways for the night. When he gets back home you stress out as you get a text from Aeri.

“Here’s the address to our hotel I look forward to beating you After the concert. ;]” You sighed and got two of your decks ready to face off against Aeri. looks like you wouldn’t be holding back.

Two days later was the concert. Connor had a great time. Aespa did fantastic as always and even though Connor wasn’t close to the stage at all he could have sworn Aeri locked eyes with him a few times but he ignored it and just focused on enjoying the music. He was elated to hear their songs especially "Hold On Tight" since it was his favorite song by the group. ( I like the more metal-sounding girls but hey to each their own) Thankfully the mix was good too.

As the concert winded down he thought for sure that Aeri locked eyes with him and winked, but again it was probably all imagination. After the concert, He made his way to the hotel. When he arrived he stayed in the lobby for a few minutes decks, and play-mat in hand. after a few more minutes there was a tap on his shoulder.

“Infinite?” An unfamiliar voice said. Connor turned to see Minejeong aka Winter.

"Winter?" Connor questioned

"Were you expecting someone else? Well sorry to disappoint. Also, call me Minjeong you are too close to us to use that name." Minjeong said

She smiled when she saw him. Connor followed her to her room. She was dressed plainly in an oversized t-shirt and baggy sweats. She grabbed him and said, “Come on before someone sees you.” Connor puts his hoodie up to obscure his face and when you get to the elevator Minjeong looks at him “Oh I see put the hoodie on and cover your face. I like it.” Connor smiled at his friend

“Don’t want any dating rumors.” Connor replies “You need to keep your image after all.” he adds

Minjeong smiled, “Ah what a gentleman, but that won’t get you mercy.” Connor laughs at Minjeong’s taunt.

"Um if you don't mind me asking where is Aeri?" Connor asks

"Oh, Aeri Unnie still needed to shower and do...What did she say deck edits." Minjeog stammers

"Oh deck edits," Connor Suggests

"Yeah, that," Minjeong confirms

"Fair" Connor nods

When Connor arrived at Aeri and Minjeong's room you were surprised to see the other members all chilling. Ningning was the first to acknowledge you “Oh is this him?” Aeri nodded. Ningning stared at you with confusion, “I thought he would be taller, but you're right h, He's super cute.” she said, in between bursts of laughter. You set your decks down and unfurl your play mat on the nearby table across from Aeri’s deck box which was littered with various stickers. Connor took out yours and Winter sighed.

“Giselle please don’t get mad and scream when he beats you,” Winter said

Aeri smiled and said “Oh I would never besides. He is the one going to lose tonight.” he held his tongue which Karina noticed. She had been watching him the whole time you had entered not saying a word.

“Is there something you want to say?” Karina asked pointedly. Connor steepled and shook his head. he cracked open his deck box and set his commander down.

“Oh, I haven’t seen this card,” Aeri said as she gently grabbed your commander. “Narset Enlightened Exile. she’s cute.” Aeri said. Connor laughed as he spaced out thinking about all of the games he'd played with this deck and the trouble, Aeri was in for.

“What was that about?” Their leader Karina asked, “You spaced out”

”Oh it’s nothing.” He responds

Connor shuffles his library and hands it over to Aeri. She in turn hands him hers and he cuts it. She cuts yours. Connor gets his starting hand and wince. An OG Dual land fast mana, a free counterspell, and early plays. “Um you can go first,” Connor says to Aeri. The other members have circled her. She starts by playing a Shock land and playing Esper Sentinel. “Okay untap upkeep draw,” he says. Connor plays a scalding tarn (He had Tundra in hand) and fetches for a Volcanic island he grabs it, and plays it then taps the volcanic island for a ragavan, nimble pilferer. After that, you play Mana Crypt and Mox Opal. after all of that Aeri looks at you

“Um, what was that?” Aeri said dumbfounded.

Feeling confident you say “What never seen an og dual or a turn one mana crypt before?” Aeri shook her head

“Unnie I think you’re in trouble,” Ningning said. Connor nods. After that Aeri played another land, a sol ring, and a rhystic study.

“You like your tax effects huh?” Connor asked Aeri

Aeri nodded, “I need to keep up somehow how "Mr. I am playing cards I have never heard of before." I just thought it was going to be Ruhan and not all of this.”

Connor smiled and responded, “Well It could be worse.”

Aeri looked at him with apprehension, “How?”

“Well I didn’t open up turn one Narset,” Connor explains.

“how would that be worse,” she asks.

“You’ll see,” Connor says as she passes. He draws his card for a turn and sighs. Connor plays chrome mox pitching whirlwind of thought and a Tundra to play his commander. He swings Ragavan at Aeri. She doesn't block. Ragavan triggers and gets a red elemental blast from Aeri. he uses the treasure and it from Ragavan to destroy Rhystic study.

Aeri sees this and says“Wait what?" in Connor's mind the game is over, but Aeri thinks it’s only begun. that changes two turns later when Connor countered her commander twice and swung at her for another 15 damage. She looks at Connor with awe and silent terror. Winter is laughing hysterically. After conceding Aeri says to him, “Well that was unexpected.”

Connor laughs, "Next time I will play something a bit more your speed." He comforts Aeri in the meantime

Winter laughs jovially before saying “And you doing all that trash talk.” She looks to Connor (the only American in the room) to confirm She used the right phrase. he nods, and Winter smiles. Aeri is still surprised.

“You know your stuff.” She said. You nod at her as she tries to recover.

After that beatdown, Aeri sits next to Connor and converses with the rest of the Aespa members. They learn he is a cameraman for various events and a few indie darlings movies. They Also Learn he is adopted. He shows them some of his work and Karina especially takes interest.

“Oh I love the angles you get they are so dynamic,” Karina says intrigued Connor smile

“Thanks, Karina.” Connor say meekly

She looks at Connor with a smile and says “You’re welcome and don’t be so stressed we’re friends now.” he tries to relax at her words. As Connor shows them more stuff they warm up to him more and more. Eventually, the group looks up and it's 2 in the morning and you Connor is exhausted. He looks at his friends and says, “I gotta go to sleep but we can talk later.” They all nod. As he walks out Aeri follows him to the door. When outside she smiles at Connor

She kisses Connor's cheek and says “Thanks for giving me a great time.” he smiles and walks away.

A few days later at the Photography club Connor, Dexter, and I were a part of he told us what he did over the weekend. I believed every word while Dexter was more suspicious.

"So you want me to believe you just met one of your biggest idol crushes? who also plays MTG," Dexter questioned. I groaned

"Dex that is literally what he just said," I respond

"I know man but that's crazy that you just befriended Aespa like that," Dexter replied still skeptical. I look at him confused and ask

"Would you have rather Scorpion be a serial killer that's zodiac-themed? Or worse a Yandere who would steal our boy, and we have to fight to save,"

"Ugh Hiro you and your imagination need to calm down," Connor replied.

I laughed before saying, Come on dude. We are just having fun,"

Connor and Dexter roll their eyes, as we head to a Karaoke house at the request of Dexter at the end of our meeting. While there Connor gets a face time Call from Giselle.

"Hey Can you come to Korea for a few days," she asks

#kpop fanfic #edh #mtg commander #aespa giselle #aespa kpop #fanfic

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optionalgs · 9 months

Text

Pam was. SUCH. A GOOD. VILLAIN. (spoilers for My dad the bounty hunter s2 ahead)

First, Chelsea Peretti's acting, 10/10.

Second, the Vibes. She kinda reminded me of Liv from Into the Spider-Verse, with her layer of enthusiasm hiding the sadism. Very unnerving.

Third, the whole "We're nice now! We ASK before taking your stuff! It's not our fault you said now!" thing. Post-colonial imperialism at its finest.

Her relationship with Beta. "You're just trying you best" never sounded so threatening.

Just, the way she played the game. She took the time to study her enemy, to learn their culture, she was all smiles and "of course!" and "take you time!", never breaking character in front of her marks.

Then the implant. It was so clear that was her greatest weapon and her weak spot and you were just waiting to see what would happen to it but I did NOT think it would be so brutal, the way Tess ripped it off and the way Pam pleaded was insane, loved every second of it.

And Tess made her into BOOTS. SHE MADE HER INTO BOOTS! WHAT! That is an INSANE thing for a main character to do! I LOVE IT!

I'm gonna miss her so much but damn, I had to pause at that reveal because I was losing my mind over it.

#my dad the bounty hunter season 2 #my dad the bounty hunter #my dad the bounty hunter spoilers

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purpleapplebird · 8 months

Text

WxS Fixer: Computer Viruses, Invasion, and Trust

The more that I look at the WxS Fixer MV, the more I feel that Rui is being depicted as, or at least is analogous to, a computer virus.

(All translated lyrics are from MML!opinions!Fun!Chocolate! on the Vocaloid Lyrics wiki)

Exhibit 1: "permission..."

The main thing that I noted from the following two shots is the word "permission…" like when a program is asking to be run on a computer.

The first verse has Xs and ?s, showing that the program (Rui in this case) is asking for permission but is being blocked out.

The 2nd verse, meanwhile, has =) and glitch effects surrounding Tsukasa, as if the program has successfully hacked in / been given permission to run.

(The smiley faces are also a neat nod to the lyrics, though they also remind me of the "YOU ARE AN IDIOT" virus LMAO)

Exhibit 2: "this is right" -> "hello, world"

The first few pictures are from the 1st verse. The words "this is right" at the bottom are initially normal, but in the next few shots, the letters "h" and "t" turn purple and shift downwards. The apple is also changing color here.

In the 2nd verse, "this is right" appears yet again with the imagery of the changing apple, but at the very end we see a shot of Rui with "hello, world"* in purple. Notably, this is also right before the shot of Tsukasa mentioned earlier with the smiley faces and glitchy parts.

*(For those who don't know, a "hello world" program is a computer program that prints out the words "hello world", used to showcase a programming language's syntax. It's often the first program one writes when they are learning a programming language.)

Exhibit 3: INVASION

I think this one is pretty self-explanatory. Tsukasa's "INVASION" text is purple while Rui's text is just white, as if Rui IS the invasion while Tsukasa is being subjected to it.

Exhibit 4: Changing colors

AKA Easily the most discussed part of the MV. The text progressively gets more purple and, at the very end, Tsukasa and Rui switch their initial colors. The ending makes me think that though Rui is the invader / fixer (haha), he has also been influenced by Tsukasa.

My thoughts? Well, this 2DMV is fucking awesome. Like, if you're going to give me one of my favorite Vocaloid songs even prior to PRSK with my two favorite PRSK characters AND give them at 2DMV of said song, I'm going to overanalyze the shit out of it.

To me, the MV shows how much Tsukasa and Rui's relationship has developed from the main story to now. Though Tsukasa is the one who invites Rui to WxS, Rui at first joins for more self-fufilling purposes (getting a chance to do the best show)* and Tsukasa is more apprehensive and suspicious of Rui, though he also doesn't back away from the challenges Rui throws at him due to his goal to become a "world future star".

*he also initially joins more to get Nene to break out of her shell as opposed to anything for Tsukasa's sake

As Tsukasa and Rui become more familiar with each other, Tsukasa wants him and Rui to trust each other more, as seen in the Potato event. Tsukasa becomes the one who wants Rui to go all out while Rui is apprehensive.

By Smile of a Dreamer, it's clear that Rui isn't just in WxS to just "put on the best show" anymore. He's doing it for the friendships he's formed there and to be with people who see him for how he is as opposed to a weirdo. Tsukasa and the rest of WxS are willing to take risks for Rui without turning on his back, something that Rui learns in Potato event and RMD.

In that case, Tsukasa blocks out Rui at first, but, through working together in WxS, Tsukasa ends up accepting Rui for how his is, letting Rui's stage directions influence / "invade" him to become a better actor. In turn, Tsukasa's acceptance changes Rui as well, breaking him out of the shell of loneliness he built for himself and making him more willing to trust others.

#tenma tsukasa #tsukasa tenma #project sekai #wxs tsukasa #rui kamishiro #ruikasa #kamishiro rui #wxs rui #wxs #wonderlands x showtime #fixer #nulut #vocaloid #this was previously a thread on my private twitter but I think the tumblr crowd would like it as well #i haven't read jp events yet so if those give more food for thought I would love to hear about it #tsukasa project sekai #project sekai colorful stage

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alexanderlightweight · 1 year

Note

what about something revolving around Alec and jewelry? Maybe him wearing magnus' or pieces gifted to him by Magnus?

Hi! Thanks for the ask. Hope you like this

—

Alexander doesn’t do it on purpose. Not the first time, or the second: not even after a dozen times. But then instinct becomes habit and Alexander continues.

So Magnus learns to watch as Alexander gets ready to leave and how he hesitates. It doesn’t matter if Magnus is awake or sleeping, in the room or getting ready himself, but Alec will lingers.

Alexander will pace around the room and touches different items. He’ll straighten pictures and brush his fingers over specific items, and no matter how often he does it, Magnus still hasn’t figured out why.

And then Alexander wallows, feet pausing by Magnus’ vanity and his fingers petting over the various trinkets there.

He sorts Magnus’ makeup brushes, and stacks whatever eyeshadow has been left out. Sometimes he even sharpens Magnus’ eyeliner, as if his magic doesn’t do it for him.

And then he hovers over the jewelry. Lifting pieces out and putting them back in and sometimes he takes nothing and other times Magnus hides a smile as Alexander pockets a piece of jewelry.

Magnus knows it will be returned the next time Alexander is back, as if it has never left. And something else will be gone in it’s place, little tokens Alexander takes of Magnus.

It takes time. But slowly instead of pocketing the jewelry, Alexander wears it instead.

Magnus remembers the first time he notices, and truly, since he pays such ardent attention to Alexander, he thinks it must be the first time at all.

It’s a bracelet. A hand carved wooden bracelet, polished to perfection and carved with little verses of good fortune.

It peeks out of Alexander’s shirt sleeve and Magnus wants to leave a mark on Alec’s wrist, so that he’ll have two reminders of Magnus.

When they smile at each other across the table that night, somehow, it’s even softer, but deeper.

It starts to happen more frequently, though not always, until Magnus enters the Institute on a priority call.

Alexander is standing shirtless in the command center, hes already handing off the shreds of a T-shirt and is zipping up a sleeveless, leather vest. There is a wound healing on his chest and a still raw, newly drawn iratze on his hip.

One of Magnus arm cuffs is snugly curled around Alexander’s bicep. It fits there, as tight as a lovers grip and defines the muscles even more when Alexander moves.

Magnus licks his lips and tries not to also remember the long silver chain looped around Alexander’s neck, or the pendant tucked into the curl of his chest hair.

He wants. In a way that he’s very unused to. So much so that it takes everything he has not to fuck Alexander against the main console of the mission room. Instead he tucks himself close, letting his fingers dip into the sliver of space between vest and pants and greedily pets warm skin.

This is a temptation Magnus can no longer bear and he promises himself that the next time before Alexander leaves, Magnus will drapes Alexander in marks and jewelry himself, and then admire the art he’s made later.

#shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #immortal husbands #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #my ficlets #my fics #my writing #shadowhunters au #words are a weapon and i do with them what i can #anon answered #anon prompt #draped in splendor #lumine writes

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ofstoriesandstardust · 2 years

Text

a slice of life (lt. bradley “rooster” bradshaw)

a/n: eh, what the hell? why not try my hand at a slice of life fic. this plays a bit on things discussed in best bud, you alright bud? but it’s not a necessity to read it

summary: two months after reconvening in Miramar, the Iron Daggers decide to have a movie night at the Mitchell residence. Rooster and Rebel prove to be the cutest couple ever, the team learns about “The Incident”, and Hangman’s just happy he was invited

part of the same mistakes-verse

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist

warnings: swearing, discussion of religious/spirtual things and guardian angels (insinuation of an afterlife/seeing people again after they die), discussion of near death-experiences, discussion of Goose’s death, very slight implication of sex, i’m still not certain i understand the slice of life genre, yeah this might’ve been an excuse to write about Rooster and Mav finding out about the incident what about it, the end is so cute i cried

word count: 3, 323

You hear the front door open, keys jingling. “Babe?”

“Kitchen.” You call back, pulling the popcorn maker from the cabinet.

“Jesus, what decade is that from?” You snort, glancing at Coyote.

"I don’t know, my Dad’s had it since I was a kid.” Rooster’s figure appears in the doorway and he squints when he sees what you’re holding.

“Why does Mav still have that?” You shrug, setting it on the counter.

“Not a clue, but I’m not entirely mad about it.” Rooster rolls his eyes, striding towards you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Coyote rolls his eyes and mutter, “Here we go.” Rooster places his hands on your waist, your arms easily sliding around his broad frame.

“Hey darling.” He whispers and you smile against the mustached-face that’s pressing feather-light kisses on your cheek.

“Hey.” You whisper back. The doorbell rings and you move your head a few inches away from Rooster’s face.

“It’s open!″ You shout and you can hear the door open and then shut. You look over Rooster’s shoulders to see Hangman enter the kitchen, making a face at you. You flip him off from over Rooster’s shoulders and he returns it before taking a seat at the table. The door opens again, and you can hear the lively voices of Fanboy and Payback. Rooster turns when they arrive in the kitchen, glancing at them. Hangman looks at them, blinking.

“Did you let yourself in?” Fanboy shrugs. “You can’t do that, it’s rude.” Payback chuckles, taking the seat next to Hangman.

“Maybe for you, but the Mitchells happen to like us.” Rooster snorts, moving away from you to the fridge. You pout at him but he just chuckles, handing you a beer as you lean up against the stove.

“Where’s Mav?” He asks, arm sliding on to the top of your shoulder as you face the other men in your kitchen. You shrug.

“With Penny, I think.”

“I thought he was gonna be here?” Coyote asks and you shrug again.

“He said he’d be back in time.” There’s a knock at the door, followed by a shout from Phoenix, announcing her and Bob’s presence. You smile at her as she squeezes in next to Fanboy, Bob choosing to lean up against the wall. The door opens again, but there’s no voice. “Dad?” You call, picking at a loose thread on your clothes carelessly.

“Yeah, it’s me. Stopped to get more beer and popcorn per yours and Bradley’s request.” You take the jar of popcorn kernels from your Dad, thanking him.

“Hey, will you get me the bowl out of the cabinet?” You ask Rooster, who grabs the large bowl from the top cabinet easily. “And the other two back there.” You say as you move to the pantry to grab what little of the popcorn kernels you did have.

“Jeez, why are you making popcorn in that old thing?” Fanboy asks.

“It makes more popcorn and between all of us, we’re gonna need it.” You call back and then walk back to the kitchen to start measuring out the different amounts of kernels you’ll need.

“Okay, but a few bags of microwave popcorn will do the same thing.”

“Well yeah, but this tastes better.” You defend, shrugging your shoulders. You plug in the machine as the front door opens again. You hear the voices of the rest of your teammates as Fanboy raises an eyebrow at you. “It does, I’m telling you! Back me up here, babe.” Rooster nods his head.

“She’s right, it does taste better. Dunno why though.”

Your Dad snorts from where he’s leaned up against the opposite kitchen counter, beer in hand. “Because (Y/N) drenches the popcorn in butter.”

“It tastes better that way!” You exclaim, seeing everyone else gather in the kitchen. It earns a laugh from everyone as your cheeks go red for being call out for your habit of over-buttering the popcorn. As you move towards the fridge to get the butter out, you gasp. Shutting the door, you turn back to your team who is staring at you with varying looks of confusion. “Coyote, guess what happened two years ago today?” He looks at you in confusion.

“What?”

“The Incident.”

“Oh yeah, Owl texted me today.”

“What?” You exclaim, moving back to your place next to Rooster. He sighs, nodding, and fishes his phone out of his pocket.

“Yeah, hold on. She said-” He pauses, clearly looking for the conversation. “Hey Coyote, happy two years of you and Rebel not dying. Hope you’re both well. Call me soon, lots to update you on.” He shrugs. “Not a big deal.” You blink at him, trying to find the words to explain why you’re baffled that your old teammate said she hopes you were well. Granted, out of all the old Green Vipers, Owl probably would’ve been the one you could’ve tolerated the most but still.

“Hang on, the two of you keep talking around ‘The Incident’” Hangman said, putting quotation marks around his words, “but I don’t actually know what that is. Can I be clued in?” He asks, looking between the two of you. You sigh as Coyote looked at you. The two of you agreed you’d keep the details of The Incident to yourselves, as your Dad didn’t know the full extent of the what had happened, and Rooster didn’t need to beat himself up for not being there when it happened, something you knew he would do. Plus, it opened the can of worms of talking about the Green Vipers, and while everyone had all met (and the Iron Daggers were not a fan), they didn’t know just how bad things were (something you were not planning on sharing). You settle into Rooster’s arm as you sigh again.

“Two years ago, Coyote and I got shot down on a mission. We got stranded in the ocean and we didn’t think we were going to walk away alive.”

“Ice did not tell me that part.” Your Dad argued.

“Yeah well, what Ice kept from you was for your own good. What you didn’t know didn’t hurt you.” Your Dad scoffed. “The mission is how the two of us became friends. We played twenty questions, we’re-going-to-die-in-the-middle-of-the-ocean style. Coyote’s idea.” Hangman snorted as Coyote laughed silently at the memory. “He asked the worst questions.”

“You asked me what my favorite color was!” He exclaims, laughing. “I barely knew you, I’m sorry I didn’t start with ‘do your parents love you?’” You laughed at that.

“Anyways, that’s what The Incident was. I don’t like talking it about it because I knew it would stress these two out.” You say, gesturing to your Dad and Rooster. Your Dad seems to be feeling a variety of things as Rooster looks like he might be sick.

“I can’t believe you’re being so nonchalant about this.” Rooster says, one hand gripping the counter, knuckles going white.

“Honestly, looking back on it, sitting in the ocean was actually kind of fun.” You say shrugging. Rooster groans and presses his plans to his eyes.

“Stop talking.” He says and you laugh.

“Babe, it was two years ago. I’m fine.”

“Actually, I have a question about that day.” Coyote says and you look back over to him. You nod, signaling for him to continue.

“That day, outside Thompson’s office, I told you you must’ve had a pretty sweet guardian angel.” You nod, wondering where he’s going with this. “And you said you thought of him as more of a guardian bird.” You scrunch your face, thinking back on that day, but Rooster takes a sharp breath from where he is next to you as your Dad straightens up.

“Dad.” Rooster whispers.

“Did I say that out loud?” Coyote nods.

“Yeah, who was that?” Coyote asks and you look briefly over at Rooster and then to your Dad.

“Um, Goose. Rooster’s Dad.” Coyote’s eyes widen slightly as Phoenix’s mouth drops open.

“Carole’s looking out for you too, you know.” Your Dad says softly and you look at him, biting your lip and shaking your head.

“No. I mean, no, I know, but that day-” You take a deep breath, a wave of tears rising up. “That day, it was Goose who saved my life, I’m sure of it. What happened-” You shake your head, trying to shake the tears. “It was too familiar.”

The team looks to Rooster and Maverick and the two exchange a look. Your Dad finally sighs. “Goose was my RIO and my best friend. During a training exercise, our plane went into a tailspin and during ejection, Goose’s head- it uh, hit the canopy and he died.” Your Dad explains, voice lowering as he nears the end. You think a handful of your fellow pilots had been told this at one point or another, but it’s new information for a lot of them, Coyote included. “But uh, I don’t know anything other than you went down that day (Y/N). How- how-” You swallow, grimacing.

“My shoulder hit the canopy so hard on ejection my beacon was crushed. The doctor said I should’ve suffered at least a fracture and I walked away with a bruise.” Rooster’s gaze hardens and you turn away from him, gaze settling on the cabinet just behind Coyote’s head. “Coyote found me in the water. I remember freaking out, just kept thinking, I’m going to see Goose again before Dad does and it’s not fair.” You stop, trying to push back the burning tears. You’re not sure why the memory is upsetting you so bad. There’s a tightness settling in your chest as you recall the paralyzing fear that took over, the way the cold water made your brain shut down, and the distant calls from Coyote when he got shot down. “If Coyote didn’t find me, hadn’t also gone down, I would’ve drowned. Or gotten left in the ocean, I still don’t know who’s beacon was responsible for getting us help.” You didn’t repeat what you’d also said that day, that you didn’t think you were expected to come home from that mission. “I think Goose knew I wasn’t ready to see him again yet, knew I still had a bit of unfinished business here. Plus, I think he’d much rather see Mav again before he sees me.” A few tears betray you, slipping down your face and you turn away from the group, looking intently at the counter. “Anyways, that’s why I don’t like talking about that day.” The team is silent for a moment and you briefly hear your Dad telling the team to settle in the living room and set up the movie. And then Rooster’s arms are wrapping around your chest and your hand comes up to interlock with his. You squeeze it and he squeezes it back, kissing the top of your head.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He whispers and you shake your head.

“Don’t do this. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I should’ve- should’ve been there.” His voice cracks. “What if you hadn’t-” His voice gives out, unable to continue the sentence.

“Bradley, I’m fine. It’s been two years. I’m still here, breathing and being a thorn in Coyote’s side. It’s okay.” You whisper. He tries to shake his head to protest, but Mav’s clearing his throat and the two of you look over to him.

“Brad, would you-” He nods, letting his arms slip off of you and you have to admit you feel a bit colder without his touch. He grabs the bowls of popcorn and takes them out to the living room, joining your team mates. You can hear light bickering and it almost makes you smile. “(Y/N), why didn’t you tell me any of this?” You shrug.

“Ice and I worked really hard to make sure you didn’t find out. I didn’t want to worry you.”

“And the stuff about Goose?”

“I don't know, it didn’t feel fair to repeat those things- I hardly even remember him. I was so young when he died that I just- didn’t feel right.” Your Dad sighs, studying you for a minute and then pulls you into a hug.

“I love you kid.” He whispers against the top of your head.

“I love you too Dad.” He lets you go and pushes you to the living room. You climb into the spot on the couch left open purposefully for you between Rooster and Coyote. You fall into Rooster’s side and if his arm wraps around you tighter than usual, you don’t say anything. “What’d y’all decide?”

“Okay, right now the debate is between the Titanic and Toy Story.” You squint at Fanboy.

“I’m not going to ask how those were the two you settled on, but we’re not watching Titanic. That movie is too long.” There’s a scoff of protest from Bob, who chucks a few pieces of popcorn at you.

“That movie is just the right amount of-”

“Toy Story it is.” Hangman announces, grabbing the remote from Fanboy.

“Hey, give that back!” Hangman’s not listening, scrolling to Disney+ and searching up the movie.

“You guys are like children.” You say, settling against Rooster’s chest as Phoenix coos at the two of you. Rooster flips her off from over your shoulder and she laughs.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, y’all are just too damn cute.” Bradley’s cheeks color a dusty rose and you snicker, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Alright, that’s enough lovebirds, watch the movie.” Hangman says, throwing a glance back to the two of you. You stick your tongue out at him and he sneers, but turns around as the movie begins to play. Bradley’s embrace is comforting as the movie plays and as the expected chaos of watching a children’s movie with these people unfolds, you find yourself feeling content, safe, and happy. It’s a feeling that was so foreign after being with the Green Vipers for so long, living every day in misery. It’s decided to watch the second Toy Story, and then third, and at some point, Bradley’s just become all too comfortable and you’re still basking in the happiness of being surrounded by these people that eventually you find yourself drifting off.

“They’re so cute.” Someone says as you slowly become aware you’re no longer sleeping.

“Coyote, leave them alone.” You distantly hear your Dad saying. You feel the steady rise and fall of someone’s chest and you don’t open your eyes, not wanting to break the comfort of their embrace.

“She looks so relaxed in her sleep.” Fanboy (you think) says.

“Yeah well wait until Bradshaw starts snoring. That’ll be the end of this moment.” Phoenix taunts.

“Mav, should we just leave them?” Bob’s whispering and you groan, finally deciding to alert the others to the fact that you were awake.

“I’m up, whadda want?” You mutter, pulling from Rooster's arms. He groans, grabbing you back to his chest and you snort as your face lands face first into his shoulder. There’s soft laughter from your Dad and the few teammates who are still scattered around the room.

“(Y/N), I’m sleeping, don’t leave me.” He mutters, still half-asleep and you snicker softly, turning around to face the group. He’s back to snoring softly into the crook of your neck and you shake your head.

“Rebel, if you’re sleeping on the couch with your boyfriend, I’m taking your bed.” Coyote warns and you know he will.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to get the man baby up.” You say and he grunts.

“’M not a man baby.” You pat his head lightly.

“Sure, baby, sure.” His warm hazel eyes open, blinking at you. “Can we go sleep in my bed or are you gonna make me sleep on the couch with you?”

“We can’t be in your bed, Mav’ll kill us.” He mutters, eyes closing again. He must’ve been really tired, you think to yourself. Your Dad is laughing to himself from where he’s standing a few feet away.

“You’re taking too long, ‘m going to the guest room.” Coyote grumbles.

“Hangman’s already in there.” Bob calls.

“’M too tired to care.” He says and you laugh to yourself. Coyote will care in the morning.

“Okay, Bob and I are gonna head out.” Phoenix says softly.

“You sure? You’re more than welcome to stay here.” Your Dad says as Payback enters the living room to tell Fanboy the air mattress was set up in the guest room.

“Yeah, it’s fine Mav.”

“Drive safe. Text me when you get home.” You call to the pair as they head out and Rooster shifts under you at the noise. Your Dad chuckles, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m headed to bed unless you or Bradley need anything?” You shake your head.

“No, we’re good. Hopefully, I’ll get him to the room eventually.” He nods.

“Love you (Y/N).”

“Love you too Dad. Goodnight.”

“Night.” He calls and then the door to his bedroom is shutting. The house is still, aside from the snores coming from the guest room.

“Babe, can we go to bed please?” He cracks an eye open.

“With you? Anytime darling, all you gotta do is ask.” You snort.

“How charming.” He smiles into your shoulder.

“Well, the offer stands.”

“Aside from the fact that I’m way too tired, no less than 4 of our teammates are in the room next to us, along with the fact that my father and your godfather is down the hall, so it’s a hard no from me.” He chuckles.

“Alright baby, take me to bed.” He says in a sultry voice and you laugh into his chest.

“What did I just say?”

“Fine, I’ll take you to bed.” He says, picking you up bridal style.

“I hate you.” You whisper, quietly laughing into his shoulder.

“No, you don’t.” He says matter of factly, nudging the door to your room open. He sets you down and you move to your closet to get pajamas. After putting on a pair of sweats he keeps at the house, your boyfriend lays down in your bed, making no less than three suggestive comments as you flip him off. You finally move to lay down next him, his arms immediately pulling you into his chest as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. You flip to face him, admiring the way his eyes look in the moonlight. His thumb is rubbing soft circles into the bare skin of your shoulder as he studies you, almost as if trying to etch you into his memory. “I love you.” He finally whispers.

“I love you too.” You respond and he smiles softly.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing that.”

“Well, I’ll tell it you everyday until I die if you let me.”

“I think I’d like that.” A somber looks takes over his face, his hand moving to caress your cheek, moving the few stray hairs framing your face.

“I’m glad you’re alive.” You swallow.

“Me too.”

“Have to tell Dad thank you the next time I go see him.”

“He knows.” You shift, hands finding Bradley’s waist. “Your parents knew we needed more time to get things right.”

“Think they’d be proud of us?”

“I know they’d be proud of us.”

“Miss ‘em.”

“I miss them too.” A quiet silence falls over you as he looks at you and you let him. His eyes roam over your figure, making sure you’re still there. Finally he’s intertwining your hands and he’s bringing it up to kiss your hand softly.

“I’m glad you’re still here, I don’t know what I’d do-” The words seem to catch in his throat as you move your hands to his cheeks.

“I’m right here.” You whisper and he nods, pulling you flush to his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

593 notes · View notes

stawpny · 8 months

Text

OHMYGOD

OVERANALYZE THIS WITH ME

Verse 1 of Dear Arkansas Daughter matches the main 5 I swear

Verse 1:

You with the dark curls (CA), You with the watercolor eyes.(NY)

You who bares all your teeth in every smile (FL)

Say, I can always hear you sing, (LA) I wanna hear you speak to me (TX)

—

MY REASONS:

CA has dark curly hair. He used to try and straighten it, or cover it with a hat, until he stopped being a people-pleaser. “You with [your] dark curls,”

NY has greenish-blueish eyes that he hates even though his eyes are stunning. “You with the [desirable] watercolor eyes.”

FL has a very toothy smile with sharp teeth. He has learned to love his devilish smile. “You who bares all your [beautiful] teeth in every smile”

LA used to sing songs to all of the younger states. His voice was soft and jazzy. “Say, I can always hear you sing [to me]”

TX always yells now, but back then he hated his raspy and southern voice. He learned to ignore all of the comments about it and continues fighting for waht he believes in. “I wanna hear you speak [how you speak] to me”

—

“stawpny, tf does this mean?”, you might be asking. I would then tell you to be creative, but I’ll explain it to you anyways.

learning how to love themselves

That’s the theme

CA learned to love his hair after years of people putting him down and telling him to straighten it, because back then most men had slick, straight, black hair. Cal didn’t. He had dark brown curly hair, and he hated it until he gave up trying to impress everyone. His curls are HIS. That’s why I replaced “the” with “your”.

NY learned to love his eyes after he was only loved for his looks, and his eyes were the most memorable out of everything, at least that’s what he thought. He hated them because after his past lovers looked deeper, he wasn’t that manly, tough, caring man that they thought he was. His eyes are beautiful, and he knows that now.

FL learned how to love his smile after years of hiding it away just because it wasn’t man enough. He said he didn’t care, but that wasn’t true, he did care, he cared too much. After he started committing felonies, he thought his smile was perfect for the job.

LA learned how to love his singing voice after years of hating it and putting himself down because he couldn’t sing like other Jazz artists in New Orleans. He realized he didn’t have to be perfect to be good at singing, so he started singing the younger states to sleep. He became less self conscious about his voice.

TX learned how to love his voice and how southern and funny it sounds. As a child, he usually refused to speak unless he was forced to because of this. He didn’t like being different. Now, he thinks his voice has more authority then if he had the same voice as everyone else does. It fits him.

—

soo these might not be the best explanations, but u can make ur own if u want

i hope no one else has done this before

anyways, ily guys! byeee!

#wttt new york #wttsh #wttt #welcome to the statehouse #wttt headcanons #wttt california #wttt florida #wttt louisiana #wttt texas #wttsh california #wttsh florida #wttsh new york #wttsh texas #wttsh louisiana #the main 5?#wttsh headcanons

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wheresarizona · 2 years

Text

Yes, I did make my own gif so you could have a visual of his back.

Massage

summary: Javier’s back is hurting, and you know just how to make your boyfriend feel better—a massage and orgasms.

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Soft Javier Peña, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, dirty talk, praise kink, massage, taking care of Javier, bath, man really thought he could still fuck with a bad back, banter, softness)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 4.8k

a/n: Can be read as a standalone or part of the Learning to Live 'Verse. Hello there, I know I said I was taking a break, but over the weekend, I read about how orgasms help with pain, and my brain went off about helping Javier with his back, so, surprise! We’re taking care of Javi this time, and this is so self-indulgent. Thank you to the love of my life, @juletheghoul, for the beta.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

There had been a plan made for how you and your boyfriend, Javier, would be spending your Friday night—dinner and a movie, the two of you wanting to see the new Tom Hanks film that took place during World War II. The acclaimed film critic Roger Ebert had given it four out of four stars and stated that it was a ‘powerful experience.’ You trusted Ebert’s reviews, given he also gave Star Wars four stars, and you couldn’t agree more when he said, “The movie's heart is in its endearingly human (and non-human) people.”

So, dinner and a movie, a lovely date night with the love of your life, Javier Peña.

The moment you’d gotten home from work, you decided to get some chores done, doing the small amount of dishes in the sink when you heard the sound of the front door being unlocked. There was rustling in the other room, you picturing Javi taking off his shoes and emptying his pockets into the large bowl on the entryway table.

“Cielito?” He called.

“Kitchen!”

Not even a minute later, arms were wrapping around your middle from behind, and a kiss was being pressed to your neck, making you smile.

A plate was held in one of your hands, a sponge in the other under soapy water. Turning your head to the side to glance at him over your shoulder, seeing him smiling.

“Hey, baby,” you said.

“Hey, Cielito,” he replied, leaning in and angling his head to kiss you on the lips. His mouth moved to trail along your jaw and neck, making you shiver from the tickle of his mustache.

“You excited for tonight?” You asked.

He hummed in the affirmative.

“Pop saw the movie last weekend with his buddies,” his words were muffled into your skin.

Javi’s dad, Chucho, was born and raised in Laredo. He had friends he’d grown up with and others he’d met, later on, forming a little group of older men who hung out together every Saturday night.

“Did he like it?” You asked.

He made you gasp when he sucked on your pulse point.

“Yeah,” he finally answered after giving one last sloppy kiss to your neck. You went back to finishing the dish in your hands, Javi resting his chin on your shoulder, hugging you a little tighter. “He said it was really good.”

“I can’t wait to watch,” you answered, leaning to put the cleaned plate onto the drying rack with the other dishes you’d done.

Draining the sink, you wrung out the sponge and set it in its spot on the sink's edge, and washed your hands, drying them on the towel hanging nearby.

Turning in Javi’s arms, you pressed your hands onto his cheeks, feeling the prickly stubble beneath your palms as you leaned in to properly kiss him, his arms pulling you closer to him, his mouth pressing against yours hard, not surprised when he deepened it, welcoming his tongue when he licked into your mouth.

This was the moment you daydreamed about at work—the next time he’d give you one of those swoon-worthy kisses that made your blood heat, heart pound, and all thoughts leave your brain because he took their place.

You chased his mouth when he broke the kiss, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest, moving his head to press his lips against your ear to whisper, “We’ve got time before we have to leave for dinner.” He grabbed your ass to punctuate his sentence.

Your fingers threaded through the soft strands of his hair.

“For a quickie?” You asked.

He moved back, bringing up his wrist to check his watch.

“Movie’s at 7:30, right?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ve got time for me to fuck you hard and get you off a couple of times before we get ready.”

The confidence in his tone had you clenching around nothing, arousal pooling in your belly.

“That sounds good,” you breathed, your heart thumping wildly in your chest.

The way this man could get you from zero to horny in less than two seconds would never fail to amaze you.

He met your eyes with a smile, kissing you quickly.

“Let me have some water—it was a hot fucking day, and I’ll be ready.”

You nodded, Javi moving to the cabinet to grab a glass and walking over to the fridge.

His grunt of pain when he bent to grab the cold filtered water in the Brita pitcher had your eyes widening, worry immediately swirling in your stomach.

“Javi?”

“Yeah?” His voice was strained, watching him stand with his face pinched while he filled his glass.

“You having back pain?”

He took a long drink from his cup, your eyes stuck on his throat working, him sighing when he finished and adding more water.

“It’s not that bad,” he said, glancing at you before putting the Brita back with another painful grunt.

“I think you’re a lying liar who lies,” you accused, crossing your arms over your chest.

He closed the refrigerator, his eyes looking at your breasts for a split second before meeting your gaze.

“I’ll just take some ibuprofen, and I’ll be fine,” he shrugged, taking another drink.

“Baby,” your eyebrow rose. “You’re in pain getting water, and you think you’ll be able to fuck me hard?”

“Won’t let my back get in the way of fucking you,” he smirked and made a show of bringing the glass up to his lips, angling his head so you had a very good view of his neck while he drank, knowing that it turned you on.

“You’re playing dirty,” you narrowed your eyes.

“No clue what you’re talking about,” he replied when he emptied the cup, pressing his body close to yours when he moved to put his dirtied glass into the sink.

The thing was, you knew he was in more pain than he was letting on.

It was his last week at the ranch, and he’d been working himself to the bone, passing out by 8 p.m. every night. He hadn’t said it out loud, but you could tell he felt guilty about not helping his dad out anymore, even though Chucho was more than supportive of Javi’s new job. All of the extra strenuous activity must have aggravated his back, and it had you frowning.

“Change of plans,” you said.

He stood up straight in front of you, his eyebrows furrowing.

“What?” He asked.

“We’re not going out.” His mouth started opening in protest, and you cut him off, holding up a hand. “I’m massaging your back. Then we’ll order pizza and watch movies here at home.”

“You don’t have to massage me…” He said slowly, lips turned down in a frown.

“I don’t have to, but I want to.” Your hands moved to cradle his cheeks again. “Javi, baby, let me take care of you,” you softly said. “If I can help you be in less pain, then I’m going to do whatever I can because I love you.”

His face softened at your words, watching his eyes go a little rounder, him swallowing hard.

“I love you, too,” he said, leaning in to kiss you tenderly.

“Okay, it’s decided. You’re getting massaged,” you said when you parted, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go.”

You led him to the bedroom.

“Dress down to your level of comfort,” you said with a wink as you let go of him to go grab a towel and some lotion from the bathroom, returning to find Javi stripping off his clothes until he was naked and getting onto the mattress with a groan.

You shook your head at the thought that this man honestly thought he’d be able to fuck, setting the towel and lotion on the bed beside him.

“Have you ever been massaged before?” You asked, pulling off your own clothes until you were in your underwear and bra, not wanting to wear your work attire while you did this.

He was lying face down on the bed, with his head on the pillow and arms folded beneath him, turning his face to look at you.

“A couple of times.”

“By a professional?”

“No,” he huffed.

“Well, I have good news,” you smiled. “I took some massage therapy classes for my degree, so I may not be a professional, but I know techniques.”

Crawling onto the mattress, your eyes moved along all of the golden skin on display in front of you, your mouth watering at the splay of muscles over his back, so defined and firm, evidence of the manual labor he’d been doing for almost two years.

“I know you’ll make me feel good, Cielito.”

He took you from your reverie, moving to straddle the backs of his thighs, the slightly plump flesh of his ass right there in front of you, and the temptation was too much, your hands grabbing onto the globes and kneading.

“That’s not my back,” Javi chuckled.

“Just warming up, babe. Can you put your arms down, so they're resting at your sides? It will help relax your back.”

He did as you asked and also rested his cheek against the pillow.

“You comfortable?” You asked.

“Yeah, baby.”

Grabbing the bottle of lotion, you pumped some onto his butt and lower back.

“I’m having deja vu,” you mused, staring at the white spatters on his skin. “Of that time, you came all over my ass.”

“Fuck, that was good,” Javi groaned.

He’d been a bit feral that day, coming in your mouth, your pussy, then painting your backside—one day, he’d get to do what he really wanted and fill all of your holes.

Pressing your hands low on his ass, you pushed them up towards his lower back in long, sweeping strokes over and over again, working the lotion into his skin.

“I swear I’m not feeling you up,” you said. “A tense ass causes lower back and hip pain—I’m warming up your muscles.”

“Sure, you are.” He sounded amused, and when you lifted your eyes, you saw his mouth tipped up in a smirk.

“I am.”

Making two fists, you focused on one cheek, pressing hard into the muscles and doing circular motions, feeling how tight his glutes were.

“This okay?”

“‘S good,” he murmured.

You glanced up, noting his eyes squeezed shut.

Moving to the other side, you did the same motion, knowing he was going to need more than just compression and switching to using your thumbs to work out trigger points.

“Fuck,” he said the word through clenched teeth when you hit a tender spot, not surprising you at all.

“Hate to break it to you, babe. You’ve got a tight ass,” you teased, working out said tightness. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

“‘S okay. Don’t stop.”

More fucks were said, along with endless groans, while you released the sensitive areas of muscle, and once they were loosened up, you moved back to the other side, going through the same actions, Javi continuing to make sounds but always telling you to continue when you checked in.

There was a reason you’d started with his cute butt, and it wasn’t just because you wanted to touch it—you knew it would be the least painful, predicting Javi’s gorgeous back would be a clusterfuck of tight muscles and strained tendons that were going to hurt like an absolute bitch to work out.

More lotion was applied to his back, and you pressed your thumbs to either side of his spine, starting at the base and drawing them up a little, Javi moaning as you repeated the motions. You could feel the knots in his lower back, applying steady pressure with your knuckles to work them out, hearing his breathing get harder while muttering fuck every few seconds.

“Are you doing okay, baby?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he gritted out. “Fucking hurts.”

“Do you want me to ease up?” You stopped your motions.

“No. Keep doing it.”

“Okay. If you need me to stop, just tell me.”

“‘Kay.”

His lower back was the worst; years of him doing god knows what had it littered with bumpy tense muscle fibers that took a lot of digging to smooth and ease the stress. His hands were clenched tight, face screwed up in pain against the pillow, but he wouldn’t let you stop, even though you knew it had to be a lot.

The moment you released the last knot, his body sunk further into the mattress, and he sighed happily, a smile curling on his lips.

“You’re doing so good for me,” you said, now working your way up his spine. “Gonna have you feeling fantastic, baby.”

He hummed in agreement.

Getting to his upper back, you used the heels of your hands to warm up his muscles, pressing into them over and over again before focusing on his trouble areas. It wasn’t surprising his shoulder blades were tender, rolling your thumbs over the pebbled bunched-up muscles, Javi gasping in pain while you worked them out until the tension was gone.

Working your way back up his spine, Javi was moaning loudly, all of the discomfort now replaced with pleasure, and it had your body going hot.

He practically purred when you got to his neck, using your hands to push up to the base of his skull, and getting your fingers into the hair at the back of his head to work out the tense muscles.

With all the tension in his back gone, he was like putty under you, all lax and pliant and so quiet you thought he might have fallen asleep.

“You alive, babe?” You asked.

You thought he tried to respond, but whatever he was trying to say came out as a slurred mumble, and it made you smile to yourself, feeling good that you made him feel better.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” you said.

Javi deserved to be pampered like this and have all of his aches taken away, and you were more than happy to do it for him.

The corded muscles of his shoulders were rigid, your eyes taking in the freckles dotting his beautiful skin while your fingers worked to compress and knead his flesh, Javi making the sexiest noises as you got the tightness to disappear.

His sounds were affecting you; hearing his deep, shuddering moans had your panties feeling damp, and your lip tugged between your teeth while you ignored the ache between your legs. Your main purpose was taking care of him and making him feel good. You could worry about yourself later.

As a treat, you leaned over his body and pushed your fingers into his hair, applying light pressure with your fingertips to massage his scalp, Javi moaning loudly beneath you.

“Fuck, ‘s good,” his words came out thick.

“Yeah, babe?”

You lightly scratched with your fingernails, and he shuddered.

“Can you flip over for me?” You asked, moving off of him, cleaning the lotion off your hands with the towel.

The man was so relaxed, it took him a second to move, but finally, he did as you asked, your eyes immediately locking on the line of his hard cock, laying against his belly, seeing the tip flushed and leaking. You licked your lips, your gaze moving up to his face, and you smiled, pretty sure this was the closest you’d ever get to seeing Javier look high—eyelids at half-mast, a lazy smile, and a flush all over his body—it was adorable.

Rubbing at his thigh, you pushed his legs open, Javi watching while you moved to kneel in the open space, your hands roaming up and down his hamstrings.

“Thought you were just massaging my back,” his speech was a little slurred, and it made you giggle. “You’re doing my legs, too?”

“Actually, it’s time I administer your oral painkiller,” you smirked.

His eyebrows dipped together, frowning slightly.

“Ibuprofen?”

“Nope,” you smirked. “Something better.”

Shuffling back a little, you bent forward to your hands and knees, your forearm resting over his hip and belly to hold yourself up, while your other hand gripped the base of his cock, Javi moaning at the touch, feeling him twitch in your palm. He felt like warm velvet, stroking him languidly, his hips stuttering to chase your movements.

“Stay still, babe,” you said, kissing his hip and seeing his hands clench the blanket under him.

“You don’t,” he swallowed hard. “You don’t have to—”

“Oh, I want to,” you cut him off, licking a long stripe up his shaft and swirling your tongue around the tip. The choked-out noise he made when you took him into your mouth shot straight to your cunt, starting to bob your head.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “So good to me.”

Humming around him, your hand pumped what couldn’t fit in your mouth, your eyes locked on him, seeing the furrowed expression on his face, eyelids shut, and jaw hanging open. It was one of your favorite looks on him, being able to see how good he felt.

Trailing wet, open-mouth kisses down his length, you teasingly licked at his sack, a low, drawn-out groan coming from Javi when you pulled a ball into your mouth, then the other, the muscles in his stomach tensing.

“Cielito,” it came out all breathy, hearing him audibly gulp. “Fuck, I love you, baby—take such good care of me.”

You licked back up to the top to take him fully into your mouth again, his cock hot against your tongue, loving the weight of him as you worked him further and further, inch by inch, with every bob of your head to get him as deep as possible. You knew at some point he’d need to touch you, his big hand finally landing on the back of your head when he nudged at the back of your throat, hearing him gasp when you swallowed around him to take him deeper.

Javier loved when you let him fill the tight space of your throat—the noises he made were simply obscene and made you throb.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. “You love my dick in your throat—fucking love choking on it. So good to me, my good fucking girl.” He was rambling, which meant he was close.

Your nose was buried into the coarse hairs at his base, tears streaming down your cheeks, spit coating your chin. You breathed through your nose, gurgling around him, feeling his cock twitch.

“Cielito, baby,” his tone was rough, lifting his head, and looking at you with lust-blown eyes, seeing his chest heaving. “Will you get on top of me? Please. Please, baby,” he begged, swallowing hard. “Need to feel you—need to feel you come. Wanna come inside you. Need to come inside you. Please.” The last word was said in a slight whine, and you were so turned on, you didn’t need to be asked twice, quickly pulling off of him, a string of spit and precum connecting you to his cock.

Wiping at the wetness on your chin with the back of your hand, you quickly got your underwear off, shuffling forward to straddle his hips. You rubbed your wet pussy over his hardness as you leaned forward, holding yourself up with an arm beside his head to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t move, okay?” You said. “I’m gonna do all of the work.”

“Okay,” he rasped, his eyes glazed over in lust. “Can I touch you?”

“You can touch me,” you smiled, closing the distance to kiss him hard, Javi moaning into it, his hands landing on your hips to help you rock against his length.

Sitting back up, you rose on your knees, bracing with a hand on his chest while the other positioned him at your entrance, Javi’s eyes squeezing shut when you started sinking down on him.

Javier had a big dick.

This was a fact.

He was thick, long, curved just right—an absolute miracle his tight-ass jeans could even contain him. An issue with Javi having a big dick was you required preparation to comfortably take him, which is why there was usually foreplay; opening you up with his thick fingers, or talented mouth, sometimes a combination of the two to make sure you were ready for him.

Here, you were wet and very turned on, his cock slick with your saliva, but as you sunk down on him, you could feel just how fucking big he was, his thickness stretching you to your limits like he was splitting you open. It was a little uncomfortable; however, that was outweighed by the way you could feel every ridge and vein pressing against spots that had your eyes fluttering closed and mouth falling open, moaning as he filled you inch by glorious inch until you were so full, it had you sweating, and aching in the best way.

His fingers dug into the skin at your waist.

“Squeezing my dick, baby,” Javi sounded pained like it was taking everything in him not to blow his load right that second, and it made you clench. “So fucking tight. Fuck, you feel good—taking me so well. My good girl, my good fucking girl. Ride me, baby. Make yourself feel good—make yourself come. Let me feel it.”

His words made you wetter, the ache between your legs turning to pleasure, and you started moving, knowing he wouldn’t last long, and focusing on what would get you off quickest.

Rising up on your knees until just his tip was nestled inside you, you slammed back down, the air pushing from your lungs from the sudden fullness. You started moving up and down, rising and falling in quick succession as you rode him hard. Your hands were planted on his chest, soft sounds falling from your lips, hearing Javi below you making noises that had your pussy throbbing, caught up in his low rumbling groans and gasping moans, clearly losing his mind at how good you felt on top of him.

The burn began to build in your core, his cock spearing into you over and over again, working yourself up, feeling the sweat beading on your skin as you panted breaths. Javi’s hand moved to the apex of your thighs, circling his thumb against your clit while you bounced on him.

“Come on, baby,” Javi groaned. “Come for me. Choke my dick.”

His other hand pulled down the cup of your bra to squeeze your bare breast before rolling your pebbled nipple between his fingers. A jolt of pleasure shot to your core, igniting you from the inside out, the coil winding tight in your belly while his cock pushed in and out of you, pressing against all the right spots, pushing you closer and closer.

Your body felt like a livewire, so close to combusting, he pressed his thumb a little harder, his fingers pinching your stiff bud, and that was it—the coil snapped, coming with a moan of his name, body clenching up, euphoria coursing through your veins. Javi followed with a ragged groan, feeling the wet pulse as he filled you, his come dripping out and around his cock.

The exertion got the best of you, falling forward and holding yourself up with arms beside his head, your lips finding one another as you kissed languidly, sharing hard breaths while you came down from your highs.

He held you to him, his big hands roaming along your back, feeling him undo your bra one-handed while the other grabbed your ass.

You smiled into the kiss before pulling up to look at him, his face relaxed and eyes closed, his mouth pulled up in a soft smile.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, kissing the tip of his nose.

He blinked open his eyes, his smile getting bigger.

“Fucking amazing.”

“Back still aching?”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Good,” you pecked his mouth. “I’m not done.”

“Yeah? What else are you gonna do to me?”

“Can you walk?”

He snorted.

“Yes, Cielito,” he leaned up to kiss you.

“Come with me.”

Minutes later, the two of you found yourselves in the steaming bathtub, Javi sitting in front of you with his head resting against your shoulder, letting him soak in the Epsom salt-infused water.

Your hands were rubbing over his arms and torso, moving from his chest down to the hair below his belly button, loving how soft he was under your palms.

“I love you,” he whispered, turning his head to kiss your cheek.

You moved to press your lips to his, Javi sinking further into you.

“I love you, too,” you murmured into his mouth, feeling him smiling.

He pulled back to look at you lovingly, his eyes so soft it made your chest go tight, knowing that this was the look he saved just for you—the one where you could see so clearly in those chocolate pools how much he loved you, practically able to see that four-letter word shining brightly in his thoughts. It made you feel all warm and gooey, so soft you thought there was a chance you’d melt right into the water.

“This is nice,” he said.

Your hand came up to thread your fingers into his hair.

“And you looked at me funny when I told you to sit in front of me.”

“It’s usually the other way around,” he frowned, his thumb smoothing circles on your knee.

“Yes,” you nodded. “But tonight is about you,” you ended the sentence with a press of your lips to his.

“Thank you,” he said, breaking the kiss.

“No reason to thank me—we take care of each other, and baby, you’ve been working so hard. You needed tonight. Tomorrow we can stay in bed all day, and you can relax.”

“All day in bed?” He smirked.

You snorted, your fingers absentmindedly making patterns on his scalp.

“Yeah, baby. All day. No, strenuous fucking, though.”

“Mmm, lazy fucking?” He smiled.

“Lazy fucking,” you agreed.

His eyes darkened, heartbeat speeding up as you readied yourself for what he was about to say.

“Keeping you full of me all day?”

“Fuck,” you gasped, arousal burning in your belly at the thought. “God, yeah.”

His lips met your chin before moving up to kiss you tenderly, losing yourselves for a moment.

When you separated, you asked, “Can you lean forward for me?”

He sat up, the water sloshing as he moved to create space between your bodies.

His back really was gorgeous; taking a moment just to admire it, your eyes mapping the freckles, sliding your hands over his soft skin to feel the muscles beneath. He was so broad, and even if he wasn’t some chiseled beefcake, you could see his strength, knew he was stronger than he looked, and that was something you loved about him—the little pieces of himself he didn’t advertise unless you knew him.

“Have I told you how horny your back makes me?” You asked.

“You’ve mentioned it,” he chuckled.

You kissed up his spine, feeling him shiver.

“God, you’re handsome.”

“I think you’re good-looking, too.”

“Yeah?”

You aimlessly rubbed his shoulders.

“Yeah. Most beautiful woman on the entire fucking planet.”

The truth was evident in his tone, but your brain always had trouble believing when he said things like that, your hands stalling in their motions.

“You’re thinking too hard, baby,” he interrupted your thoughts, looking over his shoulder. “I’m being serious—the whole fucking world, and you’re the only woman I want.”

Your heart was pounding, feeling heat creep up your neck.

“I’m not too sure about that,” you said, seeing him frown. “I’ve got some steep competition if that Farrah Fawcett poster you keep at your dad’s house is anything to go by.”

It was her in a red bathing suit, and you loved teasing him about it.

“You’re never gonna let me live it down,” he groaned. “I was a horny teenager.”

“With excellent taste in women,” you smiled, leaning forward to kiss his shoulder.

“Still have excellent taste—dating my dream girl.”

“Oh, stop it,” you playfully swatted his back. “You’re gonna make me suck your dick again.”

“Not before I eat your pretty little pussy,” he rasped.

You gulped, feeling hot, and it had nothing to do with the bath,

“Tonight is all you,” you said. “You can have me any way you’d like when we get out of the bath.” He looked at you hungrily, and you smiled. “Now, stop seducing me. I’m trying to take care of you.”

Javi chuckled, facing forward, his big hands trailing over your legs on either side of him.

He was in heaven when you washed his hair, taking your time to really massage and scratch at his scalp. He welcomed your touch when you cleaned his body, the man becoming a puddle beneath your hands, and once he was all clean, the two of you lounged in the warm water, as you had at the beginning, making easy conversation and laughing until your stomachs growled and it was time to order dinner.

Javier Peña always took care of you without you having to ask, and you did the same for him.

He wasn’t used to having someone there for him after so many years of doing things alone, but now he had you by his side to take care of him, cherish him, and love him.

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