Summary: Reader reflect on their and Derek's relationship.
(The reader is 18+ and is gender-neutral. The race/ethnicity is preferably Black/POC.)
Looking up at the moon and the stars, you couldn't help but think about you and Derek's relationship and its progression over the years. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you leaned your left shoulder against the cold glass of the loft window, smiling to yourself at how you and Derek first met. You and him hated each other's guts with a passion. He thought you were useless, and too naive and weak to be part of the pack, while you thought he was incredibly arrogant, rude, and ungrateful for the help you provided. Every chance you both got, you would throw jabs at each other, half meaning them and half not.
"Jackass." "Stupid." "Hairy idiot." "Weak loser."
It seemed that everyone knew you two would get together eventually, before you both ever did. Especially Peter. As much as Derek hated it, his uncle really did know his nephew like the back of his hand and recognized something as small as when he had a crush on someone.
"How can you tell? What about that-" you pointed to Derek who was currently frowning in annoyance at Stiles as the scrawny human was rambling on about what was more than likely not important to the pack meeting, "says having a crush?"
The usual smirk that only Peter Hale could perfect came to his face, and he leaned in towards you to whisper conspicuously in your ear, "Every, I say, fifteen minutes he looks over at you."
"That doesn't mean anything," you had defended him, honestly not believing it. Derek was a very suspicious person and besides Scott and Stiles, he was very distrustful of others.
"The looks he gives you are very 'I will kill anything and anyone for you'," he whispered, darting his eyes over to him.
You followed his gaze and felt your heart skip a beat at the look in Derek's green eyes. The intensity of it made a warmth come to your cheeks and you quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn't notice how nervous you suddenly were.
"You have a tell too."
You quickly looked to Peter in surprise and gave him a look that urged him to explain.
"You can never hold his gaze for too long without having to look away, nervous."
Shit, you thought, matching Derek's frown with your own as you saw Peter's smirk grow and could feel the warmth in your cheeks grow even warmer.
After that, you and Derek's dynamic had changed. Slowly you and him stood closer to each other during pack meetings. You and him would meet each other's eyes and quickly look away in either embarrassment and shyness.
Come to think of it, You furrowed your brows, now leaning your head against the glass, welcoming its coolness on your skin. How did me and Derek get together? You remembered what you and him did together that night, but not how you both ended up at his loft in the first place.
"(Y/N)," you heard him yawn after saying your name and lifted your head from the window to see him turning over in bed to look at you. His eyelids were heavy, there were bags under his eyes, and his hair was standing up all over his head. Just looking at him made your breath stop and you had to remember to answer him.
"Hey, you alright?"
"What're you doing up," he asked, sitting up, the cover falling from his chest.
"Nothing. Just thinking," you told him, smiling at the sound of sleepiness in his voice. If you could do it without waking him up, you would take at least fifty pictures of him in his sleep just to always have a reminder of how cute he looks when he''s tired and asleep.
"Oh," he rubbed his eyes tiredly, before throwing his arm out, holding his hand, palm up, to you. "Come on. Let's go back to sleep. You need to rest."
With a grin, you leaned off the glass and made your way to the bed. "You need to rest" was Derek's way of telling you "Get in the bed. I want to sleep and cuddle you."
As you got closer to the bed, he lowered his arm and pulled the cover back on your side of the bed for you. Crawling back into the bed, you grabbed his hand and watched as the growing always-present tension in the werewolf lessened. Laying his head back down on the pillow, he squeezed your hand and pulled your body closer to his, wordlessly asking you to cuddle with him.
Eagerly, you wrapped an arm around his middle and sighed as you felt the warmth of his body against yours.
That's how we got together, you finally remembered, closing your eyes and relaxing your body.
It was in the loft, in this bed.
You remembered patching him up after a fight. His healing was slower than usual, and you took it upon yourself to help him with a regular first aid kit.
"You didn't have to do this, (Y/N)," he told you, his voice soft and tired from the fight.
"It's fine," you told him, stitching his torso up and wiping any excess blood away. "It would've worried me all night wondering if you had fully healed or not."
At the moment you had felt his gaze on you, and gathering courage, you decided to meet his gaze. Lifting your head to look into his eyes, you were caught off guard by how close both of your faces were, noses almost touching.
Should I, you thought. Will I embarrass myself? Will I embarrass him? Maybe I should leave. Maybe I-
Before you could finish the thought, you felt his lips upon yours and after that, the night was something that you would never forget. Before he was worn out and tired, but he quickly gained energy for you.
Hearing his snores now, you could feel yourself smiling. Despite you and his hating each other at first, you couldn't be more in love with this man.
Summary: Ever the trickster, the coyote shifter named Bucky has fallen hopelessly in love with a woman who will never share his affection.
Warnings: I didn't mean for this to get dark but here we are. violence, death, bucky being Joe Goldberg in the worst way, blood.
Word count: 2.7k
A/n: ahh this is so different from anything else I've posted! I hope that everyone loves it and let me know if anyone wants more of Blue Str and Coyote Bucky.
It's important to note that this is a dark retelling/twist of Native myths about Coyote and that means the reader is Native as are most other characters aside from Bucky. He isn't Native in the MCU and I will not write him as if he were, however, he does take on Coyote the trickster's persona. Coyote is known to go to extreme lengths to get what he wants so to me, it makes sense for him to appear as a white man (aka Bucky) when he wishes.
permanent tag list: @vonalyn @hidden-treasures21 @cakesandtom
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disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest.
Night after night, day after day, dance after dance, the man others called Coyote yearned for me. When the deep red skies and yellow sun gave way to the brilliant blue night sky, he would wait for my sisters and I to emerge. In a clearing, he would lay on his back to admire the way we danced and laughed throughout the night. Never did he try to reach for us or call to us although I knew he wanted to.
I could feel it in the heavy stare that stayed on my back each night. I could see it in the way his lips would part in amazement when I danced alone. I could see it in the way his pale blue eyes twinkled when I looked at him.
My sisters would giggle amongst themselves as we danced across the sky. They’d say things like “once again the blue star outshines us all” or “the coyote has fallen for you, blue star” but it was all in good fun. I knew they did not envy the affection he showed me. He was the Coyote after all, the famed trickster that everyone knew of. He had brought fire, among other things, to earth but also brought the first lie. He had been the hero for some and the great villain to others. He was not a man…no… creature to be trusted so his apparent interest in me didn’t mean anything to me.
All it did was bring me worry and concern when one night he was no longer laying on his back in the clearing.
I freeze when I don’t see him and it causes one of my sisters to fall into me.
“Blue star,” she starts, ready to rip into me for halting our dance but she too freezes when she sees what I saw, “he’s gone?”
I look at her over my shoulder, “he can’t be.”
“Can’t be? Have you grown fond of the trickster?”
“No,” I shake my head as strands of hair that escaped from my two braids blow into my face, “no he is there every night. If he is gone, I fear something must have happened.”
My sister, Yellow Star, rolls her eyes, “to him?”
“No,” I say again, growing frustrated that she is not hearing what I am saying, “I…I don’t know but it’s not good.”
Another sister, our eldest, motions for us to carry on and follow the rest towards the mountain we pass each night. We follow but I keep looking towards the empty clearing as we return to our dancing. A deep unease fills my body as the heavy fabric of my dancing robe bounces around me. The fringe at the bottom hits my legs as if to tell me to “keep moving, keep dancing, forget the Coyote” and I obey.
My sisters are dressed in cream robes with various animals weaved onto their backs. Only I am dressed in a robe made of blues weaved to mimic the night sky however I don’t blend in. Instead I become a shining star for all those to follow when lost at night. My robes and dance give hope to those who cannot find their way. I provide comfort to strangers and family alike as we take our place in the sky.
Soon I forget the dread that has filled my stomach and again I’m laughing with my sisters, twirling and stomping through the clouds. We reach the mountain before I realize and I smile widely at the sight, my sisters sharing a similar look. We descend towards the mountain peak when our youngest sister, Pink Star, lets out a scream of terror. The eldest few race to her, yanking her from the clutches of an unseen force. She cries as she holds her leg, blood spilling from the torn flesh. They surround her as we all land on the mountain and search for the thing responsible.
The dread in my stomach has reached my throat, clasping down with a phantom hand. My feet move without my approval and I find myself walking away from the group, towards the creature that lurks beyond the trees.
Yellow Star grabs my shoulder and gently pulls me back. She gives me a worried look as my eyes stay focused on the tree line.
“I can feel it too,” she whispers to me, “he’s here.”
As if even uttering that calls him, the Coyote’s yellow eyes flash in the black space between the trees. His light footsteps turn heavy and those yellow eyes morph into the pale blue eyes I’ve memorized. He looks like a human aside from the elongated fingers where claws lurk and pointed ears that hide beneath his shaggy brown hair. Dressed in all black, he blends in with the darkness around him no matter how brightly we may shine. A shutter races through my body when we lock eyes and a smirk grows across his face.
“What do you want?” My eldest sister, White Star, sneers at him as the others attempt to help the youngest.
He doesn’t answer or even acknowledge her, his focus entirely on me. Yellow Star steps in front of me as two more of our sisters do the same. His eyes narrow at the action but he finally turns to look at White Star. She asks him again? “What do you want, trickster?”
He rolls his eyes at the name, “you’ll need to try harder if you want to insult me.”
Pink Star cries out again when someone ties a cloth around her leg and White Star snaps her full attention to him. She moves with grace as she stalks towards him, hands balled tightly into fists as she comes face to face with him.
Well face to chest as he stands nearly three heads taller than her.
He merely glances down his nose at her, “what do I want?”
Bending down so he can truly be face to face with her, he says to her, “I want your sister.”
“My sister?”
His piercing eyes flicker over her shoulder to where I’m surrounded, “That is what I said.”
“No.”
He looks back to her, a brief moment of surprise flickering across his face, “No? I wasn’t asking for your permission, I was telling you. She belongs to me and I want her.”
“No. She is not yours. You cannot have her.”
He brings one hand up to grab her face, the claws finally making their appearance, “I was being kind with the youngling. I won’t offer the same treatment for you or the others if you don’t give me what I want.”
White Star‘s anger seems to morph in a calm and collected facade as she leans into him, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. The answer is no, now and for eternity. No you cannot take her.”
I can feel the growl rumbling through his chest before I hear it and I let out my own scream as his hand drops to her throat. We all gasp and cry out as her body falls to the cold ground and he stands with her windpipe in his hand. He makes a show of dropping it and wiping the blood off on the fabric of his pants. The black fabric greedily drinks in the blood and there is not even a wet spot where it once was.
The Coyote looks between her body and us, “unless you want to join your sister in the spirit world, I suggest you give me what I want.”
No one speaks and he rolls his eyes again as the claws from the other hand come out.
“Give me Blue Star and I’ll even let you take the body,” he grinds out between clenched teeth.
Yellow Star is the one brave enough to speak, “You’ve killed one of us and almost killed another but yet you expect us to obey you? Even you should know better than that, Coyote.”
He sizes her up, taking in her tall and broad form. She had always been the strongest one of us all but always the most kind hearted. His eyes flicker to where the smaller White Star lies and then to where the young Pink Star is safely tucked behind more of our sisters. Her cries have stopped but dry tears stick to her brown face and her eyes pink to like her name, are trained on him.
“I don’t feel like playing games or solving riddles today,” he warns while stepping over White Star and towards us, “I also don’t want to repeat myself anymore.”
The two sisters who are standing at my side gently tug me back as Yellow Star walks to meet him. A few of the older ones join her but the rest come to surround Pink Star and I. My own tears have stopped falling and now rage fills my body as I look wildly between the inevitable bloodshed in front of us and the women around me.
“Green Star,” I beg the woman to my right, “we can’t let them fight. It’s me that he wants, let me handle this.”
Her green eyes are full of sadness and despair as she searches my face.
“No,” she finally says before wrapping her hand around my bicep. I try to yank it away but another sister, Purple Star, grabs the other. She gives me a pointed look causing the two lines that stretch downwards under both eyes to go taunt.
“Don’t,” She tells me and drags me back.
His voice pulls out attention back to him, “Come to me, my blue star.”
Both of us go still.
He’s calling me.
My sisters’ eyes burn into either side of my face as my mind races and I desperately try to come up with something, anything to say.
“You have ten seconds before I rip all of their throats out,” he calls again and it grows more clear that we may not have another choice.
Yellow Star puts a large hand to stop him, “Do not come any closer.”
“Stop me then,” he snarls at her while stalking closer like a predator readying to attack its prey and when she makes no such move, he pushes, “I will take what is mine and you cannot stop me.”
I can see the claws itching to find a home in her neck and the violent image of all my sisters ending up like White Star makes me ill. It seems as though the two holding me are also lost in their head and I manage to pull myself out of their grasp. Stumbling past them and the wall of others before me, I break through and nearly fall. Everyone’s eyes are now on me, waiting for my next move but I have nothing. I’ve come up with nothing but simply handing myself over to save them.
A wildly stupid plan and the senselessness of it is only amplified by the grin that’s spread across the Coyote’s face. Yellow Star looks at me in quiet horror.
A mistake she instantly pays for.
One clawed hand slashes across her chest and neck and she staggers backwards, her eyes wide with fear and surprise. A choked sob breaks from my mouth and I launch myself to catch her as she falls to the ground. Cradling her against my chest, I mummer every kind and comforting word that I can think of. I refuse to look at the damage on her chest, too afraid to acknowledge that it might be fatal. From anyone or anything else, she would survive but those claws are sharper and stronger. They find their target no matter how quickly their victim is and unfortunately for my sister, she was too distracted by me to guess his next move.
“My blue star,” he says with all the affection and tenderness in the world, “come here.”
The sickly sweet drawl in his voice entices me to follow his orders but his actions have me rooted in my place with my dying sister on my lap.
His blue eyes are replaced with the yellow of his animal form while another snarl rips through his chest and as my sister’s last breath leaves hers. Hot tears flood my eyes as I stare at her still chest but I tear them away to look at him. Waves of anger and frustration roll off of him as we make eye contact again. His soften for a moment when I finally look at him but mine harden all the more at the monster before me. He goes to take another step towards me, now only a few feet from me but I stop him.
“You’ll kill them all if I refuse?”
“Yes,” he doesn't hesitate with his answer.
“And if I go, will you let them go free?”
“Yes.”
I look down to my sister. The bright yellow of her eyes has faded as she stares up at the night sky where we had danced only moments ago. I look to White Star and I swear that I see a tear fall from her snow white eyes. Behind me, I can feel the pain and sadness that fills my sisters as they watch us. I can feel the sheer heart break that no doubt washes over their faces as I gently lift Yellow Star from my lap and place her on the ground. Placing a chaste kiss to her forehead, I ask the spirits to welcome my sisters with open arms and full hearts. No one speaks or moves as I get to my feet and face the Coyote in his trickster glory.
He extends a hand out for me to take, those terrible claws no longer in sight. The pale blue eyes have returned and for a moment, I forget that I’m not looking at any normal man. For a moment, I forget the carnage he leaves in his wake or the blood that stains every inch of his sun kissed skin. I forget that this man has murdered my sisters and would have murdered them all if given the chance.
For a moment, I feel safe as I take his hand in mind but the small cries of Pink Star behind me bring me back to reality. Sensing that I’ll back away and run towards safety, he nearly crushes my hand and drags me towards him. Whatever safety I might have felt is only a figment of my imagination, a cruel trick he used to convince me to come to him.
The hand that held mine has moved to wrap around my waist so that I can’t move from his chest. The other grips my chin and his thumb trails over the three vertical lines there. The action sends a shiver through my body but I force myself to keep still and keep my eyes trained on his face.
He dips his head down and his lips brush over my cheek as he whispers into my ear, “Finally my blue star. I’ve waited for you for far too long and now you’re mine.”
Whatever words I might have had are lost and he smirks at my silence. Drawing away, he orders my sisters to leave and tells them that they may take the bodies. His bruising hold doesn’t let up as I hear them scramble to grab our fallen sisters and dash towards the skies. Only when they are gone and we are alone does he let me have a few inches of space but only to grip my chin again.
“What is your name?” he asks as he nuzzles against my hair, taking deep breaths as if I calm the storm inside of him.
My hesitation frustrates him and the hand on my chin falls to my throat. He pulls back enough to be nose to nose with me.
“Tell me your name.”
“Y/N,” I gasp as the hand grows tighter and the claws dip into the soft skin.
“Y/N,” he repeats and grins. He says it again while his eyes flutter close and he nuzzles against me again.
“Y/N, my blue star.”
My own eyes flutter close as his unspoken threat seeps into my heart. If it is freedom that I crave, it will be his heart that I need to carve out.
Hobie x Afro-mexicana!reader who's aesthetic is Mexicore
(Mexicore: The combination of Indigenous Latine/Mexican culture and alternative/scenemo/goth subcultures - created by Pierce The Veil - example of the fashion from @zamber_lamber on TikTok pictured as I am unable to find any afromexican examples online)
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this is part of my a match made in hell universe some time after 7 minutes in hell.
content warnings: 18+, minors dni. fluff. doing eddie’s makeup 💕
eddie thought your makeup always looked flawless so of course, he asked if you could work some of your magic on him, magic as in your makeup skills. so now you’re sitting on his lap with his hands on your tattooed thighs as you work on the eyeshadow.
“usually, i just do eyeliner before a show and call it a day,” he says and you smile as you work the brush over his eyelids.
“don’t worry. when i’m done, you’ll look like a big rockstar and no one will be able to look away,” you reply.
his fingers draw little circles on your skin as you work, finishing the eyeshadow and then using some eyeliner and mascara. once you’re done with his eyes, you line his lips with a matte lip pencil and fill them with a matte liquid lip colour that matches the pencil. once everything is finished and blended you tell him to close his eyes and spray some setting mist.
“you’re done, rockstar,” you say as you pull him off the bed and bring him to the mirror over your dresser.
eddie looks at his reflection and smiles at the beautiful work you’ve done. you gave him a smokey eye look with some glitter and the eyeliner really brings out the shape of his eyes and of course, he loves the the colour you used on his lips that is slightly darker than the natural colour.
“you’re amazing,” he says as he grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you up and kisses you.
“maybe i’ll keep doing your makeup if i get kisses after,” you reply and eddie grins before kissing you again.
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☆ ─ pairing ─ ☆ miguel o’hara x afro-indigenous!professor!reader
☆ ─ summary ─ ☆ stressful days are no fun but you’re always grateful that your boyfriend will always be there to ease your stress.
☆ ─ content warnings ─ ☆ 18+, MINORS DNI. fem!reader. stressed!reader. fluff. miguel being a supportive boyfriend. non-sexual nudity. this is shorter but the fluff makes up for it.
☆ ─ word count ─ ☆ 512
☆ ─ author’s note ─ ☆ support banner made by @cafekitsune. 18+ banner and line divider made by me. image found on pinterest and cropped by me. this an alternate version of my other miguel fic read to me but you don’t have to read it to read this one.
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Your job can be stressful sometimes but it’s the life you chose. You could never hate what you do but that doesn’t mean you don’t wish it didn’t come with the stressful days that tired you out so much that you can’t even enjoy some time with your loving boyfriend or sit down to enjoy a good book. While you enjoy your job, sometimes you do wish it could be just a little bit less demanding.
When you get home, you just head straight to the bathroom to take a shower not caring where you drop your stuff. On the floor, on the couch, on the bed, who cares? Once your clothes are off and your single braid is undone, you step inside and sigh with relief when the hot water hits your skin. It feels nice against your tired muscles and exhausted body and you kind of just want to stay there. Why would you want to get out when it’s making you feel so good?
When Miguel finally gets home, all the lights are still off and he can hear the shower running. You must’ve gotten home earlier while it was still daytime so you didn’t bother to turn the lights on. When he goes into your room, your bag is just lying on the floor by the end of your bed after being dropped carelessly.
You don’t know how long you’ve been standing under the steady stream of hot water until you feel a familiar large pair of hands on your shoulders, fingers rubbing away the knots.
“Rough day?” Miguel asks and you just nod your head, not even feeling like talking.
Miguel hums as he wraps his arms around you and you turn around so you can do the same. The two of you just stand there not saying anything until you decide to get out. Miguel combs your damp hair before rebraiding it, remembering to only think good thoughts and the two of you just lie down on the bed when he’s finished.
“Anything I can do for you?” he asks and you just shake your head as you move closer to him.
“Just hold me, please,” you mumble.
Miguel smiles as he holds you close with your head on his chest. “You don’t even have to ask,” he says as he kisses your forehead and pulls the blanket over you.
His fingers toy with the loose clumps of hair around your face before twirling the end of your braid as his other hand rubs your shoulder. You close your eyes and listen to his steady heart beat as your head moves with every rise and fall of his chest. It’s almost as if everything that was stressing you out was slowly forgotten as you relax with the man you love while he just keeps you warm and safe in his protective embrace. You never have to ask him to provide you comfort and when you do, he’s more than willing to oblige and you couldn’t be more grateful that he made his way into your life.
ENDNOTES ─── to get notified as soon as possible, follow @faeslibrary turn on post notifications.
eddie trying to teach you how to play his guitar feels so personal because he doesn’t really let anyone else touch it so when he decides to try and teach you, he has you sitting right in front of him between his legs with your back against his chest while he looks over your shoulder. his hands are guiding yours over the strings and the neck while quietly humming the notes in your ear but all you can think about is how gentle his cool skin is against your warm, human flesh.
“that’s it, sunshine. you’re doing amazing,” he murmurs in your ear and your heart jumps at the feeling of his lips against your ear as he speaks.
that feeling never gets old. you lightly bite on your lower lip as you try to focus on where eddie’s hands are guiding yours even though you know you’ll never be a master guitarist like him. while you do enjoy listening to music, you’re not the type to make music. you’d rather create a new world in the pages of your notebook but you still accepted eddie’s offer to teach you to play his guitar because you didn’t see any reason not to.
“i’m pretty sure i messed up almost fifteen notes,” you laugh as you turn your head to look at him.
“don’t worry about that, sweetheart. i really just like having you close like this,” he says as he gently holds your chin between his fingers and kisses you on the lips.
you smile as he pulls away and your skin heats up as his kisses move across your cheek and down your neck. by now, the lessons are long forgotten and his guitar is now leaning against the wall as he pulls you onto his lap and continues his work on your neck.
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PAIRING ─── miguel o’hara x afro-indigenous!professor!reader
SUMMARY ─── to help him calm down after a stressful day, miguel asks you to read a new book to him.
WARNINGS ─── 18+, MINORS DNI. tooth rotting fluff i mean it. fem!reader. stressed!miguel. not much really just fluff.
WORD COUNT ─── 1, 042
AUTHOR’S NOTE ─── support banner made by @cafekitsune. images found on pinterest. 18+ banner and line divider made by me.
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Miguel didn’t have an easy job and he never wanted to bring that stress home but sometimes, it just wouldn’t go away no matter how much he tried to relax before going home. He didn’t want that stress and pent up frustration to boil over and end up taking it out on you. You didn’t deserve that. He never wanted you to end up being the one to pay the price for his stress and frustration.
You have become really good at reading his tells and then offering ways to comfort him and help him relax after work, even when you yourself are tired. He always just looks at you and tells you that having you there with him is more than enough. Tonight is no different.
When he gets home, you’re in your shared bedroom standing in front of the bookshelf he helped you put together when you moved in while a canvas tote bag sits on the floor by your feet. He realizes that it was carrying some new books that you must have gone out and bought in your spare time before ending up on your bookshelf to join your ever growing collection. When he saw how much you loved reading, it didn’t shock him to find out that you were an English literature professor at the city’s university when he met you. Most of the books you owned were annotated and had lots of colourful sticky tabs and when he flipped through the pages, they were covered in many notes written in the margins, lines and quotes were highlighted and each chapter had sticky notes with the chapter summary and the page numbers of all your favourite moments. It was like he was taking a look inside of how your mind worked.
“Jeez, Miguel! I didn’t even realize you were home,” you chuckle while holding your hand over your beating heart as you smile at him. “Your footsteps are always so quiet it’s hard to tell when you’re around.”
“I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he replies as he stands behind you with his hands on your hips while he rests his forehead on your shoulder.
“Are you okay? You seem tense,” you say as you turn around to look at him and he sighs as he swallows.
He can never hide from you no matter how hard he tries. You can always tell when something is wrong and it’s one of the many things he loves about you, how perceptive you are. He thinks of everything that pushed him to the edge as he sinks down onto his knees and buries his face in your shirt that is actually his, inhaling your scent that has taken over as he wraps his arms around your waist as if you’ll vanish if he lets go. You don’t say anything as you gently run your fingers through his hair with one hand while the other rubs the back of his neck as you let him have a moment to collect himself. You can feel how tense he is and hear how his breath shakes a little bit as his muscles slowly relax before he looks up at you while still on his knees.
“Talk to me,” you say as you place your hands on his jaw and rub his cheekbones with your thumbs.
He looks at you with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes as his hands move to your hips. Your kindness and patience will never cease to amaze him, especially when it comes to those who least deserve it. Every day, he thanks whatever God is out there that you chose him and that he gets to experience what it means to be loved by you. Holding you brings him warmth and comfort and hearing your voice helps to calm him down. He thinks about how sweet and gentle you are and how you always care for him and he just can’t imagine his life without you, nor can he fathom how he was even able to live a life before he met you. Doing so just seems impossible at this point and he’s willing to do whatever he can to hold onto you.
“Stressful day at work. All I wanted was to come home to you,” he says and you smile as you lean down to gently kiss his lips.
“Do you wanna take a shower to help you relax?” you offer and he shakes his head.
“I just wanna be here with you, baby,” he replies as his hands move down to your hips, gently caressing the warm skin under your shirt.
“How about you get changed while I put the food away and then we can just lie down and relax. How does that sound?” you ask and Miguel smiles as he nods.
“That sounds perfect, my love,” he answers and you smile.
You leave the bedroom while he takes off his clothes and puts on a pair of sweatpants. He doesn’t bother with a shirt and as he goes to lie down, he sees one of the new books you bought sitting on the nightstand. He can tell it’s new by the smell of the untouched pages and he picks it up to read the summary. When you get back, he looks at you while holding the book.
“Would you mind reading to me?” he asks and you smile as you take the book from him.
“Of course I will,” you reply as you both crawl under the blanket.
His head is on your chest right over your heart as you start from the very beginning. As you go on, you can feel his body relax and when you look at him, he’s asleep with his arm over your stomach. You bookmark the page with the receipt from the store and turn the light off before lying down completely. Miguel mumbles in his sleep as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer with his head resting over where your heart is, making you smile as you run your fingers through his hair.
“I love you,” you whisper but he just hums, making you laugh quietly through your nose.
You would do anything he asked you to.
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