#but you're always a liiiittle bit looking around like. wait am I THE ONE who's struggling now?? when did THIS happen

[variousqueerthings]

being one of several siblings is constantly being in lowgrade competition about not being the one who's doing the worst in life currently. I'd say beginning of the year I was pretty solidly in second place, and we're slipping down that rung, but that's because my employment is so dependent on the stars and the gods and my mental health aligning at the exact right time. I think I provide a much-needed whimsical insecurity to our prospects as a family, one moment I'm the only one of the kids with a degree, the next I can't access most of my funds due to moving to another country and brexit, and then, wow, a whole grant for six months, and now, guess what... solidly burnt out for another six. what will I think of next? tune in next week, it may be an experimental bottle episode just consisting of me reviewing doctor who episodes in an oversized hoodie, it may be an offer to direct a documentary short. life.

[whatsnewalycat]

Just Dumb Enough to Try

Chapter 8: Take This Longing

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: angst, swearing, smoking, alcohol use, pining, existential crisis, mental health spiral, attempts at jokes, sexual tension, movie nerd shit, cheating, public bathroom sex, unprotected PIV sex, oral sex, fluff, spilling your guts and getting ~vulnerable~

Series Summary: In 1993, you met Javier Peña in San Antonio. You made an emotional and physical connection with him. Now it's 1998 and you're starting a new chapter of life in Laredo with your fiancé. And who else walks back into the picture, but the man who left you high and dry five years ago.

Chapter Summary: Our heroes go on a (semi-official) date and allow themselves to get a little closer.

Notes: Chapter title from "Take This Longing" by Leonard Cohen, the horniest musician ever. Lets do it in the bathroom of a Mexican restaurant y'all - comments/ likes/ reblogs are appreciated greatly. Thank you for reading!!! Spotify playlist for this chapter. Cross-posted to AO3 here (UN: glitter_diety). Update weekly on Sundays.

[ First Chapter ] [ Previous Chapter ]

151 Fir St N, Laredo, TX June 17, 1998

There’s a palpable nervous energy about you from the second you wake up. You rifle through your closet several times, trying to pick out an outfit that says “ not sure if we’re just really good friends or if I’m about to have a lover ,” and settle on high-waisted jean shorts and a black t-shirt tied up at the front to show just a liiiittle bit of your soft belly.

The clock ticks by at an excruciatingly slow pace, causing you to actually do housework to pass the time. You call Claudia to chat, since that usually eats up an hour at least. You tell her that you have plans to go see a movie with Javi today, but don’t disclose the flirtatious manner in which the two of you have been communicating. She comments, “Wow, you’re spending a lot of time with him.”

Your whole face flushes as you stutter out something akin to a lie, “Y -yeah, we’re becoming really good friends .” Which… feels fucking terrible, honestly. You know she knows you’re lying, because she can see right through you always, but you’re not ready for that conversation yet. You’re barely ready to have that conversation with Javi.

With your remaining time, you wait out on your front step, fidgeting and chain smoking until his truck rumbles into the driveway. There’s so much you know the two of you need to discuss. Like how the line you’ve been walking between friendship and romantic interest have been blurred. Like how the moment he put his hands on your waist, sending an electric shock across your body, you haven’t been able to think of anything else.

Like what the fuck am I doing I’m getting married in September.

But you can’t help it, his touch has you enraptured. On Saturday night, while you and Dan were having sex, you imagined it was Javier. It was the first time in years you’ve orgasmed with Dan. You could barely look at Javi the next morning at church without your entire face turning red.

Javier honks the horn as if you can’t see him. You stomp out your cigarette and walk over to the passenger’s side door.

“Hey,” you greet as you hop into the dusty seat and buckle your seatbelt.

“Hi there,” he responds, looking you up and down, eyes lingering on your body long enough to make your heart start pounding, “You look stunning, as always.”

“One of these times I’m going to actually remember not to wear black in here,” you chuckle nervously, ignoring the compliment rattling around the butterflies in your chest.

“Do you even own clothes that aren’t black?” he puts the truck into reverse and pulls out of the driveway.

“Believe it or not, I do,” you sigh, smiling over at him, “Smartass.”

“Pardon me?” he grins from ear to ear, fingers pressed against his lips. You roll your eyes at him and put your feet up on the dash.

—

Thankfully, you and Javi don’t run into anyone you know at the theater.

Not that I have anything to hide.

You’ve both been avoiding the elephant in the room and keeping your hands to yourself, keeping things cordial and friendly. It briefly makes you wonder if what happened at the beach was an anomaly, and perhaps you and Javier can have a functional friendship without sexual tension sometime down the line. Weirdly enough, thought makes your chest ache. Like you know you would be missing something meaningful.

Sure, meaningful. Meaningful and absolutely gut-wrenchingly terrifying.

Javier opens the door for you to enter Nico’s, which is a quaint Mexican restaurant in a nearby town. The hostess seats you at a small table in a sparsely populated courtyard. The sun is going down, making way for patio lights to illuminate the table.

Both of you order margaritas the size of your head. Not surprisingly, this kind of drink is not Javi’s go-to, but you’re able to convince him to try one with you. And soon you’re feeling fluid .

“Did you like the movie?” you ask while shoving a tortilla chip in your mouth.

He finishes swallowing a mouthful of margarita before answering, “I did. It was interesting. Eerie, though, you know. What about you, what did you think?”

Honestly, The Truman Show put you in a tailspin. You find yourself identifying with the main character, Truman, in thinking that… things in your life haven’t been sitting well with you. You both feel as if you’ve been volleyed down a path you don’t want. And that freaks you out quite a bit.

“It resonated a lot with me,” you prop your chin on your hand, look down at your margarita, and absentmindedly stir it around. You're tipsy enough that you start processing your introspection outloud, “I think… I think that, for my whole life, I’ve been going along with what everybody else wants me to do. You know that I didn’t even want to move to Texas? To go to UTSA? My dad wanted me to do it. He thought that if I came down here I could concentrate better and not drop out like I did at U of M when I was 19,” a bitter laugh leaves your mouth, “Fuck, I don’t even know if I ever actually decided on my own that wanted to be a teacher. It’s something other people told me I would be good at, so I made it my purpose. Trusting other peoples opinions of me more than I trust myself. I love kids and I loved teaching, don’t get me wrong, but is that what I would have chosen without other peoples input?” you take a sip of your margarita and hold up your finger indicating but wait, there’s more , “Just like Truman, I’ve been making these choices other people have laid out for me, like it’s what I want to do, but it’s not and I’m fucking miserable.”

As if the liquor has destroyed your ability to stop thinking out loud, slashing yourself open, spilling your guts all across this table; you continue with a shaky breath as your vision gets blurred from tears, “And I’ve realized that… the only thing I’ve done for me … is spend time with you. I like you. And being around you makes me feel like I’m choosing what I want to do, for once. Which is… terrifying.”

His face softens and his eyebrows draw together. The dam of tears breaks, spilling over onto your cheeks. In public crying. Again.

Why why why why

“Sorry I’m-“ you sniffle and shove your chair out behind you, then get to your wobbly feet, “I’m so sorry.”

You keep your head down while you locate the bathroom, pull open the door, then lock it behind you once it closes. Sobs rack your body as you lean against the closed door.

Why did I let that leave my mouth? I can’t do this. I can’t show myself to him.

There’s a knock on the door. You gather yourself enough to croak out, “occupied.”

“Hey it’s me, open up,” Javi says from the other side.

I think I’ve done that too much already.

A heavy sigh escapes your chest before you turn around and flip the lock open. He barges in and locks the door behind him. You step back and whimper, “What are you doing?”

He closes the distance between you, cupping your cheeks in his hands, and searches your face. His eyes are warm and intense, and so… utterly sad. His thumb strokes away a tear and he tells you in a hushed tone, “I’ve made a lot of decisions,” he clears his throat, breaks eye contact, and leans so close you can feel his breath on your face, “My decisions… have a body count… in the dozens. I- I’m reckless with other people for my own selfish reasons. I’ve been trying to reconcile who I am with the decisions I’ve made and I am so… lost. I don’t know who I am,” he swallows hard and returns his eyes to yours, taking your breath away, “But I know that I like who I am the most when I’m with you.”

Javier wraps his arms around you as he pulls you into an embrace. Your ear presses against him as you hug him back; you listen to his heart thumping while breathing in the bouquet of smells, so uniquely him, that was tattooed on your brain all those years ago. He buries his face in your hair and takes a deep breath, making you wonder if he's reveling in your scent, too.

It just feels so goddamn good to touch him. His palms slide up your back, sending shivers down your spine. Javi’s heartbeat quickens when he feels you squirm. You pull back so you can link your shaky hands behind his neck and arch your back towards him. When you finally get the courage to look up at him, your chest tightens and knees feel weak. His eyes are boring down into you, lips parted, ragged breath. He leans closer until his nose touches yours, lips hovering just an inch away.

“Javi,” you whisper, and he inhales his name from your lips. One of your hands trail up to the side of his face, where you stroke his cheek gently. He leans into your palm. Those puppy dog eyes.

You’re so unbelievably fucked .

As if you both were pushed past your breaking point at the exact moment, you lean towards one another and press your lips together. And it’s everything . The sweetness of the margarita and the smoky cigarette taste meld together into a flavor you find delectable. Truth be told, he could probably taste like rancid meat and you’d find it to be the sweetest nectar you ever drank. He pulls back to examine your face, to make sure, is this ok?

You let out a small huff at the loss, biting your lip and nodding, more . Your hands creep hesitantly from his neck into his hair as you pull him in closer, lips reuniting in a plea to keep going. Your tongue sweeps against his, sending a deep ripple of excitement down your center, causing you to moan.

The noise triggers something primal in him; he drives you backwards until your back hits the cool tile wall and he can press against you. While one hand supports your neck as he kisses you like the fucking world is ending, the other slips up the back of your shirt. It oscillates between lightly caressing the soft skin, and digging his fingers in to pull you towards him harder. You're sensitive with desire, every touch making you shudder and gasp. His mouth departs from yours and trails down your neck, licking, kissing, sucking indiscriminately, leaving a wet trail in its wake. You gasp with each new placement.

“Oh- oh my- fuck Javi- “ you groan as he tortures you, suckling the pulse in your neck.

He brings his mouth to your ear and murmurs, “Fuck, I love hearing you say my name, baby.”

The somersault your heart does when he calls you baby leaves you dazed.

You grab the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him back to your lips for a kiss, then grind your hips against his. He groans into your mouth, pulls your shirt up over your breasts, then rolls the hard buds between his fingers. He presses his forehead against yours, stealing quick kisses from your lips while asking, “Tell me- do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

His head pulls back so he can study your face. He is a disaster . Wild black eyes, lips puffy with your lipstick smeared around them, hair sticking up every which way.

A fucking beautiful disaster.

Your chest heaving, you trail your fingernails through his messy hair again, petting him like a good boy. You bring your lips to his ear, heart pounding as you confess, “When I touch myself… when I fuck him … wh-when I close my goddamn eyes- its always you I’m thinking about, Javi.”

Inhaling sharply, he crashes his lips against yours, barely allowing you to breathe between desperate kisses, setting your skin on fire.

He ushers you over to the counter next to the sink; you scramble up onto it as he brings his mouth to one of your tits, tongue flicking your nipple relentlessly. You groan and push his face into you harder until he stuffs as much as he can in his mouth and sucks, tongue massaging the hardened bud, fueling the fire in your core. You whisper praises to him, “That’s perfect, baby, that’s so fucking good, fuck yes-“

A moan rings out into your tit, then he pops it out of his mouth as his hands move down to your shorts; where he unzips them and pulls them down in a frenzy.

“You’re not wearing a bra or underwear?” He looks up at you when he’s met with your vulva instead of panties.

“I- um… no,” you stutter through your panting, not ready for the pop quiz.

“Do you do this often?” he questions, sliding his hands up your thighs, wet kisses trailing behind them.

You nod down to him, moaning as his hands meet on either side of your cunt and he digs his fingers into your skin.

“That’s so fucking hot,” he rasps before peeling your ass off the counter and bending you over it. He sinks to his knees behind you, then groans, “you’re so wet for me holy shit, ” then you feel his thumb roll against your entrance, rubbing the digit around in your slick. The moan that escapes you is not discrete. In fact, it’s downright fucking feral.

Cooing with admiration, Javi parts your swollen lips with his fingers and sliding up your slit, exploring all of the ridges and valleys, until he hits your knot of pleasure, where he stops wandering and lays down roots, caressing you gently. You relax into it, letting him take care of you as the circular motion radiates through your entire being. As your heart rate picks up, the pleasure builds, and your hungry cunt cries for more. You whine and huff, then start grinding down onto his hand. It’s not until now you flutter your eyes open and notice he’s sitting up just enough so he can see your face, contorted with lust in the mirror. When your eyes meet, you feel an intense connection that holds space and time. The intimacy between you feels so understated in a place as anonymous as a public restroom.

His face disappears behind the globes of your ass, then you feel his tongue teasing your entrance and you gasp. He dips it inside of you, making you practically collapse and choke out, “Holy fuck, Javi- oh that’s so good , baby”

He starts fucking you with his tongue while continuing to stroke you so gently and tediously and perfectly , every thought leaves your brain. You are only existing in this moment to revel in the pleasure he’s making you feel. Arching your back, you tilt your pussy towards him and reach back to pull yourself apart more. This apparently pleases him, because he starts moaning into your pussy, and his fingers work your clit faster. You can’t even control the noises coming out of you, they’re only instinct, rolling off your lips as ecstasy mounts. It’s fucking perfect. But it would be more perfect if- “fuck me, p-please, I need you,” you beg quietly.

Wasting no time, he jumps to his feet to undo his belt buckle and jeans. His cock bobs up out of its constraints and you’re ecstatic.

We meet again, old friend.

He sees you biting your lip and looking at his hard cock through the mirror, then it twitches enthusiastically. His hips lean against you and he asks, “Are you on birth control?”

You nod in the affirmative.

“Are- are you sure you want to do this?” he whispers through his panting.

“So fucking bad, Javi. I want you, please ,” you whimper, pushing back against him.

Your neediness pulls a groan from his lips as he brings his head to your entrance, then pushes his length into you. His eyes are on yours through the mirror, face snarling with pleasure. You swear to fucking god you see stars as he drags it out, then back in until it disappears, splitting you open and eliciting a moan through gritted teeth. He continues like this... leisurely, measured thrusts, like he has all night. Like there aren’t people probably outside the door waiting to use this bathroom. Like he doesn’t give a fuck if anyone hears the two of you panting and sputtering.

You push back onto him, trying to set a faster pace, but he grabs your waist doesn’t let you. It’s excruciating. You’re a fucking mess, whimpering and pleading as he takes his time with your pussy.

“Baby-,” you pout, trying to push back onto him faster again. He grins at you, pulls out of you and sets your ass back on the counter so you’re face-to-face.

“You’re so impatient, cariño,” he pants against your mouth, then kisses you passionately as he slides back into you. Your heart skips a beat. He teases you with two slow thrusts, making you whine, before picking up the pace. It's incomparable, the way he fills you, like his cock was moulded just for you. He's driving into you at a tempo that engulfs your body in pure bliss .

Your heart races and you grab onto his shirt, babbling into his neck, “Javi- you fuck me so good- holy fuck- Javi - you’re going to make me cum-“

He moans out your name and it sounds so sweet on his lips you can barely hold it together. You buck against him frantically, chasing the fire building inside you, until it overtakes you, flooding your body with ecstasy as you spasm around his cock. He shudders and thrusts into you wildly for another moment until he whimpers, lips parted in an o, finding his release inside you.

Neither of you move for at least a minute, catching your breath. He places delicate kisses across your smiling face and whispers, “ fuck- you’re so pretty.”

The smile spreads even wider and you draw his lips to yours. He pulls out of you and steps back to pull up his pants and buckle his belt. You shift to move but he places his hand on your belly, stilling you, “Hang on,” he pulls some paper towels out of a dispenser and cleans you up before helping you down.

What a gentleman.

Once you both get your shit together (the best you can, given the circumstances), you emerge from the bathroom timidly. You’re not sure what to expect, but you’re still surprised to see one woman standing outside waiting patiently. You come out first, and she starts towards the door, which is when Javier emerges. She curls her lip and huffs past him into the bathroom that the two of you had just defiled.

Back at the table, food arrived, what appears to be… some time ago. The waitress is talking to a manager when she spots you returning and waves him away. She approaches and puts on a friendly smile to let Javier know she wasn’t sure if you two were returning or not, but offers to warm up the food. You both agree that it’s not necessary.

Once she leaves, the two of you eat the cold (but fucking delicious) food quietly, looking up at each other and grinning every so often. You’re certain the woman you ran into outside of the bathroom told management about what she had seen, because the staff has a completely different demeanor towards your party of two for the remainder of the meal.

“Waitresses keep looking at us funny,” you comment.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to come back here for a while,” he chuckles, wiping his mouth with a napkin and then throwing it on his empty plate.

You shrug and smile up at him, “worth it.”

You’re able to avoid talking about the implications and consequences of what happened in the bathroom until about one second after both the truck doors slam shut. He barely has a chance to turn the engine over before you ask, fidgeting and bouncing your foot, “So, what is it… that we’re doing? Was that a one time thing?”

“Is that what you want it to be?” he glances over at you, eyebrows furrowed and jaw set.

No. It’s not what I want.

“I- I don’t know. Is that what you want it to be?” you gulp.

He lights two cigarettes at the same time, then hands one to you. His fingers tap on the steering wheel as he sighs, then rolls his head on his shoulders to meet your eyes, “No, but I’m not the one with a fiancé.”

Your stomach churns, hands tingle, and you start biting your cheek nervously. Your eyebrows draw together and you meet his hard stare. Voice quivering, you breathe, “I don’t know what I want.”

This is a lie. You know you want Javier. But you can’t leave Dan without a dollar to your name and free fall into a relationship with someone who has a track record of completely disappearing… and that’s assuming he would want a relationship with you.

He puts the truck in reverse and brings you home. During the drive, the air is thick with words neither of you are speaking. You’re so lost in a haze of what ifs and potential catastrophes you’re tiptoeing around, you don’t even realize when the truck pulls into your driveway until you hear Javi say your name softly. It makes you jump.

“Hey,” he grabs your hand and pulls it to his mouth, laying a tender kiss on your wrist. You turn towards him and rub your thumb against his face. He makes a noise that’s almost like purring, then pulls you across the bench seat to kiss your lips. It says everything the two of you don’t have the courage to say.

I want you. I don’t know how, exactly, but I want you.

You part your mouth and run your tongue along his bottom lip until he opens up and lets you in, greeting your tongue with his own. He deepens the kiss, burying his hand in your hair and pulling you closer. You rearrange so you’re straddling him, back against the steering wheel, chest against his. The two of you lose yourself there, kissing, licking, petting, just savoring what it feels like to finally be submerged in the other.

When you surface from the depths of him to take a breath, sweating and panting, he lays butterfly kisses on your neck, not able to keep his hands or lips off of you.

“I should go in before my neighbors see us,” you giggle. He nuzzles into your neck further and wraps his arms around you, as if you restrain you from leaving. His mustache tickles your neck and you can’t help but burst out laughing.

He leans back with a smile, holding his hands steady around your waist, “When can I see you again?”

You and Javier make plans to go on a walk tomorrow afternoon. You’re barely able to pull yourself away from him, but the paranoia of being caught outweighs the comfort of being in his arms.

To give yourself credit, you make it all the way inside the house and close the door before you spiral into a panic attack. Chest heaving, head spinning, crumpled up on the floor next to your shoe rack. You feel like you’ve been shot full of adrenaline and can’t stop crying.

This is what you wanted, right?

Yes, but you didn’t think you could actually do it. And you did it. And it was fucking wonderful. Everything is so easy and good with Javi.

But now what?

Your heart is begging you to take a leap of faith. However, you don’t think he’s looking for the kind of commitment you are. What if you burn down your relationship with Dan, then Javi gets cold feet? Then you’re stuck in Texas with no money, no home, no people. How would you even get home to Minnesota? Then, if you were able to get there, the only person who would take you in is Claudia. She doesn’t have room for you. Sure, she would still let you stay, but it would be a burden on a family that is already cramped for space and strapped for cash.

And if you see Javier secretly, you run the same risks. What if Dan doesn’t find out? What if he does?

Would it be worth it?

Thinking about how you feel so alive and free to be yourself around Javi… how he feels so right… your chest aches at the prospect of letting him go. But the terror that clenches around your gut at the thought of letting him any closer screams louder. You pull yourself off the floor, crawl into bed, and cry yourself to sleep.

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