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absurdthirst · 11 days ago

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The Photo Booth {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 22.9k

Warnings: Hook ups, fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), public sex, explicit photos, chauvinism, cheating, derogatory language, slight emotional manipulation and abuse?, domestic violence, bodily threats

Comments: A trip to Colombia, a fling that changes your life. Javier Peña returns to the DEA after retiring only to find that the one woman he couldn't get off his mind is now dating a co-worker.

**Based off this NSFW Post

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Sitting in a dive bar in Cali, Colombia, you didn’t know what to expect in the smoky haze of the bar. The cold beer sitting in front of you is sweating and you look around, the interior of the bar making it seem like it was midnight rather than the evening. The only time natural light snuck in was when the doors swung open or closed to admit a new patron. You’ve been here for a week, learning the area and this little bar has become a favorite spot. It’s not touristy and you like that, able to sit and enjoy a beer or shot without judgment. The curse from the man next to you catches your attention, turning to again think that he’s handsome as he searches his pockets quickly, a cigarette dangling from his lips, obviously looking for a lighter. You reach into your pocket and pull out your zippo, flicking it opened and firing it up to hold in front of his smoke. “Here.”

“Thanks.” He murmurs, leaning in to light his smoke and he inhales as the end of his smoke lights up orange. He exhales the smoke and removes it from his mouth, positioning it between his fingers over the ashtray on the bar. You’re pretty and American from the sounds of it. “Thanks.” He says again and gestures for the bartender to come over and refill his whiskey. “And whatever the lady is drinking.” He tells the bartender in Spanish.

You order another beer in Spanish and turn back to him as he takes another long drag off his cigarette like it needs it more than air. “Rough morning?” You ask playfully, picking up your beer and taking a long swing to finish it so you can start drinking the fresh one. He’s handsome and also American if his accent is anything to go by. His clean jawline is marred by one little patch that he missed shaving this morning and his mustache is in need of a slight trim, along with his gorgeous dark hair. It compliments the sharp nose and dark eyes.

Javier snorts, “rough day.” He admits, tapping his smoke on the side of the ashtray and he nods at the bartender in thanks, picking up his glass to take a sip. “So what are you doing here in Colombia?” He asks, curious about why a beautiful woman is alone in Cali. It’s safer than when Pablo was around but it’s still dangerous.

“Vacation. I’m here to visit my friend from college. She’s out with her new boyfriend tonight so I offered to entertain myself and here I am…looking for entertainment.” You smirk slightly and take a sip of your fresh beer.

“Is that so?” Javier chuckles softly, “and what kind of entertainment are you looking for?” He asks and you hum, “l don’t know yet. Waiting to see what finds me.” You look at him and then back down the bar to an old man who is sipping his drink.

You watch as his brow lifts and there’s a moment where you think that he’s going to ask you another question and then he doesn’t. It’s as if he remembers something that causes him to straighten up slightly and he picks up his whiskey and tosses it back. You bite your lip, wondering if the spark of interest you had seen in his eyes was just a fluke. You lean back and sigh softly.

Javier smirks after a moment, “so you’re looking for entertainment. You know, it’s been a while since I entertained.” Javi confesses. Apart from that first night back in Colombia, he hasn’t had sex and that’s not the norm for a man who processes everything in a woman’s body. He sighs and takes another drag of his smoke, his dark eyes dipping down to your lips before he lifts them back to your gaze.

“You?” Your eyes widen slightly in disbelief as you wonder if all the women in Colombia were crazy or if there was something wrong with him. You’re a pretty good judge of a good time and he looks like he’s damn fun. Reaching out, you pluck the cigarette out from between his fingers and take a drag from it. “Why?” You ask, blowing out the smoke and smirking at him, leaning forward to give him a glimpse of your tits in your low cut shirt.

Javier shrugs, his eyes dipping down to your cleavage before you exhale a cloud of smoke and his eyes flick up to your mouth. “Been busy working. Late nights in the office and tonight is one of the few nights I’m in a bar and not drinking at home while looking over paperwork. Plus no one has really caught my attention…until now.” He admits, his eyes dipping back down to your cleavage to make his intentions known.

You hum in approval and hand the cigarette back to him to pick up your beer to take a large swallow. “Good to know.” You tell him after you set it back down. “I was thinking that maybe you weren’t interested. Which is a damn shame, because I just know that you have a fantastic cock.” You can tell from the nonchalant self confidence he possesses, this man can fuck.

If Javier wasn’t as experienced as he was, he’d be spitting out his whiskey, but that isn’t him. He smirks and leans a little closer after he snubs his cigarette out in the ashtray. “You just know?” He asks, tilting his head, “and if I just know you have a fantastic pussy?” He counters, his leg pressing against yours as he turns his body towards you.

“Then I think we need to find someplace to let you get a taste of it.” You tease, winking playfully. “You might get addicted to it.” Leaning forward, you lay your hand on his knee and slide it up his thigh. “Bet I could change that rough day into a better one. My fantastic pussy squeezing your fantastic cock? Sounds like a good time to me.” You’ve always been bold when you wanted someone and this is no exception. His suit shirt and tie are decent and fit him well, but you can tell the man prefers a pair of jeans over the trapping of a suit.

Javier has always loved a woman who knows what she wants. It saves on the “will they? Won’t they?” nonsense and he isn’t one to fuck around. Once he’s in, he’s in. His smirk turns into a devilish grin and his hand covers yours, dragging it higher until your palm is on his crotch, “my place or yours?” He suggests, tilting his head and his eyes flick down to your lips, “and I can discover just how fucking fantastic that pussy is and make my rough day into a good night.”

“My place is a hotel about four blocks from here.” You admit breathlessly, pressing your palm against the thick hardness that is growing under his slacks. “How far away do you live?”

“My apartment is about twenty minutes away so your place wins.” He groans softly when you rub his cock a little harder. He gestures for the bartender to come over and he shifts to pull his wallet out of his pants. He tosses some bills down to cover your drinks and he downs the rest of his whiskey. “You ready to go, hermosa, or you wanna finish your beer?”

You stand up and pluck the glass off the bar. “I’ll take it with me.” You tell him, sauntering towards the door, making sure that your ass sways invitingly with every step you take. Looking over your shoulder, you grin at the handsome man. “Hey, before we leave, what’s your name?”

Javier grabs his jacket from the back of the bar stool and waves to the bartender before he follows you out the door, his hand pushing into the back pocket of your jeans to squeeze your ass. “You’re gonna be fun. I can already tell.” He smirks and he pulls his hand out to smack your ass. “Lead the way, hermosa.” He demands, cock pressing against the zipper of his slacks.

You smirk when he murmurs his name and you introduce yourself. You take another drink of the beer as you amble down the street to your hotel. “Want a sip?” You offer, holding it out to him and you like the way he still is touching your ass.

Javier takes the beer and tilts his head back to have a gulp, handing it back to you as his hand slides up to your waist. “You are fucking gorgeous.” Javier declares, “you don’t have a fella waiting for you back home?” He asks, wanting to make sure he’s not stepping on some poor guy’s toes when his beautiful girlfriend is on vacation.

“No.” You scoff and shake your head. “My ex told me that I was the type someone had fun with but didn’t marry.” It had hurt at the time, but fuck him. You didn’t want to marry into his prissy family anyway. “So I dumped him and said fuck it, I’ll just do what I want.”

He can’t help but snort, “I left my fiancé at the altar the day before I left to come to Colombia. Was about 8 years ago now but yeah, she’s still pretty pissed.” He confesses, “even though she’s married with kids. Fuck that guy, good for you for not giving in to his bullshit.”

“People want to change you.” You shake your head and shrug. “If you want to change for someone, you do. But it’s not actually love if someone wants you to change everything about yourself.” You tell him. “At least that’s my opinion. I mean, you don’t cheat, but if you love someone you don’t want to fuck someone else.”

"Exactly. I don't cheat. My pa would fucking kill me if he found out I cheated but having fun? That's something that's on the table. Tonight, I want you." He smirks, spinning you around to press you against the wall of a shop that's shut up. His hand caresses your waist and he leans in to press his lips to yours under the streetlight.

The first kiss is perfect. The taste of whiskey, beer and cigarettes makes a unique flavor that isn’t unpleasant on his tongue. Your arms wind around his neck, still holding your beer and you waste no time sliding your tongue into his mouth. Moaning slightly when he immediately responds and presses you harder into the wall, his cock already hard and digging into your hip.

He groans, pushing you up against the wall and his cock presses against your hip, his hands sliding up to squeeze your tits. He's hungry for you and after all the bullshit he's been handling with work, he wants to lose his mind in your body.

The fire between you ignites and you can tell that this man is going to leave you a sweaty, exhausted mess when he’s done with you. The hand not holding your beer slides down his side and pushes between your bodies to squeeze his cock as you pull your lips away from his. “Next block is my hotel.” You gasp breathlessly.

He pulls back reluctantly, knowing nothing more can happen in the street. A cat knocks over a beer bottle on the wall and he flinches, knowing it's not safe to hang around so he takes your hand from his crotch and guides you back onto the sidewalk to continue walking to your hotel.

You quickly enter the hotel and guide him towards your door. Pulling out your key from your pocket, the door swings open and you shrug. “It’s small, but the hotel is pretty safe so that is why I chose it.” You explain, aware that it might be smaller than some hotels in the city.

"Smart girl." He hums, following you through the door into your room. It's a little messy but he doesn't give a fuck. You set the beer bottle down and he kicks off his shoes, shrugging off his jacket. "How long are you in Colombia for?" He asks as he sits down on the foot of your bed.

“Month or so.” You shrug slightly. “I hadn’t really decided when I was going back.” You smirk. “Might stick around if the sex is good.” You tease, reaching for your shirt and pulling it over your head to reveal your lacy bra.

He watches you strip off with lust in his eyes and he groans when you push your jeans down to expose your panties. “Christ, you’re gorgeous.” He murmurs, his dark gaze trailing along your body. “I’ll make sure you stick around.” He promises, reaching for you to pull you between his spread legs. His hands sliding along the back of your thighs until he’s squeezing your ass clad in lace.

He looks good, sitting on the edge of your bed and you quickly pull his loose tie out from its knot and slip it out from around his neck. “You need a condom, handsome?” You’re on the pill, but while you know your own STD test, you won’t just assume he’s clean.

"I have one in my wallet." He assures you, loving the way you toss his tie to the floor before you start working on the buttons of his shirt. His hands slide under your panties, wanting them off, so he pushes them down when you are working on the last buttons of his shirt. You push it off his shoulders and step out of your panties, making him moan at the sight of the curls at the apex of your thighs. His hands slide up your thighs again and he spreads your ass so he can slide his fingers through your folds, groaning at how wet you are.

“I’m sure plenty of women tell you that you’re sexy, but I’ll just tell you I wasn’t wet before you sat down next to me.” You pant, head rolling back and you reach for his broad shoulders to keep you anchored. His fingers are quick and skilled as he finds your clit and starts to stroke it. “Fuck- Javi…” you pant, walls clenching around nothing as he touches you.

Javier loves the way you lean into him, your hands on his shoulders, and he slides his fingers back to push two inside of you. His foot nudges your ankle to spread you a little wider and you whimper when he curls his fingers inside of you. His other hand sliding up to work on the clasp of your bra.

“Shit.” You moan, your eyes fluttering closed while he manages to unhook your bra with one hand. He’s obviously good at that, practicing a few times. He grunts in pleasure when he gets it on the first try and you have to pull your arms away to let the straps slide down your limbs and you toss it away without even looking. You are naked in front of him and he’s still wearing his pants, the contrast between you exciting.

His eyes dart up to find yours and he leans in to take your nipple in his mouth. Your hand tangles in his hair and he groans at the slight tug. His fingers push deeper, pressing against the spongy wall to find that spot that makes your knees buckle while he bites down on the bud of your breast.

You whimper quietly, walls fluttering around his fingers and you want to touch him. “Javi- fuck baby.” You moan, rocking your hips towards him. “More.” You beg, cupping his head to your breast and loving his tongue laps at the aching nipple.

His fingers continue to pump into you, groaning your name against your breast, his tongue lathing your nipple until he kisses across to your other breast. Your hands caress his head and he wants you to cum on his fingers.

“Fuck.” It’s been a long time since someone has paid attention to you like this. Most of your previous lovers would rather get right to the sex and enjoy your uninhibited nature. Preferring getting a blow job over making sure you cum. “Javi.” You bite your lip and then let out another moan, telling yourself you have no reason to hold back.

Javier loves hearing you moan his name. He pushes his fingers a little faster, wanting to feel you clamp down on his digits, and he groans when you give him what he wants. His lips press against your sternum as you tug on his hair and you soak his fingers. “That’s it, baby. Fuck. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” He murmurs against your chest as he works you through it.

He slides his tongue into your mouth, slowly withdrawing his wet digits from your pussy and his wet fingers squeeze your breast before he grabs your waist to pull you into his lap and his cock is aching for you. His tongue slides against yours and his hands squeeze your ass as you grind down onto him.

You roll your hips and your fingers reach for his belt buckle. You want to see his cock, to touch him. Moaning into his mouth as you flick it open as you kiss him. You’re eager for him, wanting to see what he can do when he has more than his fingers inside you.

He loves how eager you are, fumbling to open his pants, and he groans when you finally manage to take his cock out, squeezing him in your hand. "Fuck, hermosa." He hisses, his fingers digging into your ass.

You look between you and groan in appreciation of the thick, uncut cock in your hand. Twisting your wrist so you can pump him lightly as you slide off his lap and drop to your knees between his thighs. You are salivating at how gorgeous he is and your already wet cunt is dripping as you roll the foreskin back to take the head between your lips as you dip your head down.

His dark eyes drink in the sight of you on your knees for him, your lips wrapped around his cock. He can’t help but reach down to caress your cheek, “you’re fucking gorgeous.” He murmurs, watching you with hungry eyes and he twitches when you take him deeper into your mouth.

You moan in approval at his praises, always loving when someone heaps compliments on you. It makes you eager for more and willing to do almost anything. Sure that someone would say it has to do with your daddy issues, all you care about is this man right now and making sure that he wants more of you. Bobbing your head on his cock as you try to take as much of him as you can before you are choking and sputtering around him.

“Cuidado.” He murmurs, not wanting you to hurt yourself. He strokes your cheek, feeling his cock bulge under your skin. “Fuck, you’re so good. I don’t - I don’t want to cum down your throat.” He warns you, enjoying your mouth but he wants your pussy.

You suck on the length, your tongue running up the side before you pull off his cock one last time. “Do you want my pussy or ass?” You ask, smirking slightly and lifting a brow in question as he twitches at the thought.

He knows you’d need a lot of prep to take him in your ass. “Pussy.” He declares, “you would need more prep to open your ass for me and we just met. I want to feel that tight little cunt squeeze my cock.” He reaches for you and pulls you into his lap once more, pressing his lips to yours.

You whimper as his hands slide down your back and over your ass as he rocks you against his cock. The fabric of his pants is probably soaked with your juices but you don’t care and he doesn’t seem to mind. Breaking away from his lips, you start to kiss along his jaw. “Fuck me, Javier.” You beg. “I want you to wreck me and make me scream.”

He nods, shifting to lay you down on the bed and he pushes his pants down, bending down to take his wallet out so he can get the condom from inside and he tosses his wallet down. “Spread your legs, baby. Show me that wet pussy.” He demands as he ríos the packet open and he rolls the latex down his length, standing before you fully nude as he admires your cunt.

You squirm and spread your legs wider, inviting him to come fuck you as he watches you with dark eyes. There’s something simmering beneath the surface of this calm man, a volatile nature that could be unleashed and it excites you. Reaching up, you cup your tits and pinch your nipples. “Fuck Javi.” You whine when he doesn’t pounce on you right away. “You gonna leave me hanging?”

He chuckles, caressing your ankle up to your thigh and he shuffles closer, squeezing his covered cock. He notches himself at your entrance and pushes into you steadily but not quickly. “You are so goddamn tight. Mierda.” He hisses as he pushes deeper and keeps himself up on his forearms to hover over you.

Your mouth opens in a silent moan as he stretches you out, even his fingers were not enough to escape the slight pinch of his cock splitting you open. It’s incredible. You want to say something witty but you just pull your legs back to let him sink in deeper, loving how he feels. Sliding your hands up his arms and caressing the straining muscles as you admire how handsome he is over you.

Javier clenches his jaw as you squeeze him inside of you. The walls are gripping him like a vice and it’s been too long since he had sex. He hisses and leans down to press his lips to yours, giving both of you a moment when he’s fully seated inside of you.

You kiss him eagerly, your tongues sliding against one another and groaning into the other’s mouth. You love how physical he is, most men would just be hammering into you by now, but he is kissing you like there is nothing that exists but right now.

He starts to rock into you, slow and steady, while his tongue caresses yours until he pulls away so he can kiss along your jaw. "Hermosa." He murmurs, sliding his hand along your thigh as you moan when he pushes deep inside of you again.

The pace starts off slow, building up a rhythm that takes your breath away and makes you gasp out his name every time he plunges deep into your cunt. Your hands sliding along his back and feeling the muscles move as he fucks you. It’s intimate, even for a one night stand and you love it.

Javier has never been the rut and nut kind of guy. He loves women. Loves making them moan and writhe beneath him and you are not an exception. He wants to feel you cum around him before he spills into the condom. He kisses down your neck, hunched over you as he rocks into you a little faster.

“Fuck, fuck.” You pant, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist and you love how he is cradled between your thighs so perfectly. “Javi- more, fuck, it’s soooo goood.” You whine, your teeth nipping his shoulder and you lunge up to bite his cute little earlobe.

He groans when you bite his ear, “fuckkk.” He pants into your neck, his cock twitching violently inside of you. He loves that. He keeps his pace, adjusting his hips to find that spot that makes you cry out his name.

It’s distracting, the way he’s shredding up into you, making your whole body respond to the drive of your hips. “Fuck!” You squeal when he hits that perfect spot, making him chuckle. “There, hermosa?” He growls, making you whimper again when he hits that spot again. “There! Right fucking there. Oooooh, you’re gonna make me cum, Javi!” You cry when he seemingly targets your sweet spot and hammers against it again and again.

Javier loves the way you cry out and he focuses on that spot, pushing into you over and over again. He wants you to fall apart for him and it doesn’t take long for you to clamp down on his cock. His name is a cry for the hotel residents to hear as you shake beneath him.

Your entire body is blissed out, flooded with pleasure as your walls flutter around him. Making you encourage him to cum. “Cum for me baby, want you to feel so good.” You moan in his ear. “Let me see you cum.”

Javier grunts, wanting to last longer than one orgasm so he pulls out of you, shifting down your body so he can bury his face in your cunt. You taste like latex but he doesn’t care as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

You gasp in surprise, not expecting him to shift tracks like that and you are completely obsessed by this man that you picked up in a bar. More willing to focus on your pleasure than some of your exes. “Oh my fucking God.” You pant, looking up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily and counting your lucky stars. “How- how are you not married?” You huff. “Your ex was an idiot to not do whatever it took to keep you in her bed.”

Javier chuckles against your folds and he slides his hands up to squeeze your tits, pinching your nipples. “Not marriage material.” He admits as he pulls back for a second and he spits on your folds, wanting to watch it slide down to your ass and he groans, surging forward to lap your clit.

“Oh fuck…” you whine, loving how filthy he is. You grind your hips down, demanding more as you moan and whimper in pleasure. “Fuck - tell me you’re clean.” You demand. “Tell me you can fuck me raw and fill me up. Fuck, I’m on that birth control shot.”

His cock twitches against the mattress and he lifts his head. His hand sliding down to rub your clit. “I’m clean. Got tested a few weeks ago and I always use a condom. You really want me to cum inside of you?” He asks, eyebrows raised. Unsure if this is a heat of the moment and he doesn’t want to take advantage. The women he’s fucked…he’s always had a condom on because they are prostitutes and it was required.

“Fuck yesssss.” You moan, clenching around nothing at the thought. “I’m clean, I’ve got my papers on the table over there, along with my shot record.” You pant, squirming as you imagine dripping his cum. “I want- I’ve never done that before, unless it was anal.”

Javier won’t dent you when you’re begging. He groans your name and sucks your clit into his mouth, wanting you to fall over the edge again before he fucks you raw. “I’ll fuck your ass another time.” He promises and sucks on your clit harder than before.

You whine, stomach clenching as your fingers twist in his hair. Tugging on it while he devours your cunt. “Fuck, Javi!” You feel yourself stiffen, crying out again for the entire hotel to hear when your cunt clenches down around nothing and you soak his chin.

He hisses when you tug on his hair and he groans into your flesh before he abruptly pulls back, shifting back onto his knees. He pulls the condom off and grips his cock, positioning himself at your entrance and he pushes into you while your walls are still fluttering from your orgasm.

All you can do is moan, rolling your hips down and wrapping your arms around him. Dragging him down onto you to feel his weight pressing you into the bed. “Fuck- you feel….amazing.”

You feel incredible around his cock, so wet and hot, and he starts to rock into you, harder than before. “Fuck baby. You’re beautiful. Fucking gorgeous.” He hisses, his hands sliding under your body.

“You’re gorgeous.” You groan, kissing up his jaw to his lips. Not caring that your juices are still on his tongue. You just want to kiss him. “So goddamn good to me. Fucking me right. Now I want you to wear yourself out.”

Javier grunts, shifting onto his calves and he grabs your waist, dragging you up and he shifts to hold your thighs. The new angle has his eyes rolling into the back of his head and he hisses your name when you brace your feet and rock down onto him.

“Fuck, you want me on top?” You pant, starting to roll your hips and bounce on his cock. “I can do that.” You hang onto him and still want more as he leans in and takes your nipple in his mouth. “Oh fuck.”

“Take what you need, hermosa.” He demands, squeezing your ass, and he loves the way you take him inside of you with every rock of your hips. “That’s it, baby. Shit.” He hisses and bites down on your breast.

Your fingers run through his hair and you moan his name again. Wondering how the hell you got so lucky to be able to take this man to bed. “Oh fuck, that’s so good. You’re so good.”

Javier loves how much you are enjoying this. Genuinely loving every second and he hasn’t had a lover like that in so long. “Fuck hermosa. Tu coño es mi cielo.” He murmurs against your skin.

Your pussy is my heaven. You moan, clenching down around him tight as his words throw you over the edge again. You’ve never cum as much as you have tonight and it’s amazing that you found the perfect lover in a little bar in Colombia. “Javi!” Your voice breaks and you choke out a sob as you come apart again.

When you cum again, he doesn’t hold back. He groans and rocks up into you, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you upright as he works himself towards his orgasm. “Mierda.” He hisses and he’s falling over the edge within a half dozen thrusts. Your name on his lips as his cock twitches while filling you with his hot cum.

You close your eyes, forehead resting against his shoulder and you pant softly. “Fuck.” You whimper, feeling him rock through his orgasm until he finally stops moving underneath you.

He bites down on your shoulder and kisses along your neck, loving the way you relax against him. He murmurs your name against your skin and sighs, feeling so good after you let him fuck you and he’s so happy he met you in that bar. He pulls out a few moments later, shifting to lay down on the bed.

You roll over to your back and give a tired giggle. “You want a cigarette?” You ask, knowing you have a pack in the drawer next to him. “I think after that performance, you deserve one.”

“Fuck yes.” Javier nods, his fingers twitching for a smoke and when you hand it to him, he keeps his lips pursed so you can light it before he inhales and opens his other arm for you to curl into him. “How long are you here for again?” He asks, having forgotten in the haze of sex.

You bite your lip, smiling lazily as you steal the cigarette and take a puff. “As long as I want to stick around.” You laugh, handing the smoke back to him and caressing his chest. “Might be at least an another month or so if you want to fuck me like that again.” You tease playfully.

He chuckles, “sounds like a good deal to me, baby.” He kisses your hair and takes another drag of the cigarette while you curl around him.

****

“Fuck. Jesus Christ.” Javier hisses as you take his cock into your mouth in the front seat of his Jeep. Your ass in the air clad in daisy dukes and his aviators on his eyes as he watches you take his cock into your mouth. You’ve been having sex for the past two weeks every night Javier can get away from the Embassy and tonight, he told you he’d take you to his favorite lookout in the mountains but you decided the better view was in his lap.

You moan around him. Eager as you bob up and down on his cock. You know that he’s DEA, you have learned a little about his job and how much stress he is under on the day to day and you want to make him forget about everything but the way your mouth feels around his cock. Your fingers wrap about the base and you pump it and then roll his balls around gently in your hand.

Javier caresses your head as you suck his cock and he hisses when you gently squeeze his balls. The moon is shining above and there’s no one else around, his headlights turned off so you can see the stars but he doesn’t give a shit about the sky when you’re causing stars behind his eyelids with the way you’re sucking his cock. “Fuckkk hermosa.” He groans, tilting his head back against the headrest, “gonna make me cum.” He warns, not wanting you to have him cum if you want to fuck him.

You hum, knowing how much he love that and while you would love for him to fuck you, you want him to cum down your throat. Knowing how stressed he is, you want to make him relax and thank him for being so sweet to plan a romantic drive up here. It’s thoughtful and when he’s ready to go again, you’ll bounce on his cock. Instead of pulling off, you press deeper, letting go of the base and taking him all the way until your nose is pressed against his groin, swallowing around him.

He chokes when you take him deeper, your nose pressed against the coarse but trimmed hair at the base of his cock. “Holy fucking shit.” He growls, unable to hold back and his cock twitches as he starts to cum. His balls pull tight in your hand and you moan around him as you start to swallow every drop of hot cum down your throat. “Mierda, hermosa. Fuck.” He pants, his hand slamming on the steering wheel and he honks the horn by accident.

You jump in surprise, gasping slightly and it makes you dribble out some of the cum you are trying to swallow. Making you giggle as you swallow harder and cup your hand over his pants so none of the cum spills on to the fabric and stains them. Still, you keep sucking, waiting until his cock stops pulsing before you pull off and make sure you get every drop. Your grin is self satisfied when you sit up. “Enjoy that?”

Javier doesn’t answer. He reaches down to cup your cheek and you let him drag you up from his lap. “You’re so fucking perfect.” He groans and presses his lips to yours, uncaring about the saltiness on your tongue from his cum. His hand cups the back of your neck, needing you closer.

You love that he doesn’t care about his cum, or yours. You kiss him back eagerly and you sigh into his mouth softly. Everyday you spend with Javi is special and it’s almost a damn shame that neither one of you are in a position to have a relationship. It would be amazing. One last peck and you shift to his side and look up at the stars. “It is pretty up here.”

He wraps his arm around your shoulders after he tucks his cock away but doesn’t bother buttoning his pants. He nods, “it is. I like to come up here when I’m having a hard time at work. Had some fucking revelations up here. I- I don’t really bring anyone here. It’s always been my place but I wanted to bring you somewhere special since I haven’t exactly taken you on a date.”

Your heart melts at his revelation, honored that he would share someplace meaningful to him. Turning your face up, you place a kiss on his jaw, loving the little bare patch where his five o’clock shadow refuses to grow in. “Thank you.” You murmur softly. “This is wonderful, but don’t feel guilty. I love our nights in my hotel room.” Javi had told you that it was too dangerous to bring you back to his apartment, and while that could be a lie, you feel like he’s telling the truth.

Javier knows that this is veering too close to a relationship but he can’t stop it. With the knowledge that you’ll be leaving soon, he feels greedy to get every second he can with you. The whorehouses have definitely missed his presence during this stint in Colombia but he was determined to change his reputation. He has to redeem himself after what happened with Los Pepes. He has to make it right. “I know, I just - I want to keep you safe. You have to return home to the States.” He insists, knowing that every day you spend here puts your life in danger, multiplied tenfold by being with him.

“I know.” You caress his chest over his shirt gently, trying to soothe him. He doesn’t talk about the things that he’s seen, but you sometimes catch a haunted look on his face. Or the nights when he stays over, he will abandon the pillow he hugs while he sleeps to cling to you as if he’s afraid of you slipping away at night. It makes your heart ache. “You will see me off at the airport, giving you a kiss and slipping a twenty in your pocket for all the great sex.” You tease.

Javier smirks, “I think at least a hundred considering you’ve cum every time since we met.” He raises his eyebrows at you and his hand slides down to squeeze your breast. “And there’s plenty more where that came from.” He promises with a chuckle.

You laugh with him, the sound turning into a moan when he pinches your nipple and you lean in to kiss him again. You know you are playing such a dangerous game, but Javier Peña is so much better than he ever gives himself credit for and you have fallen in love with you, you just can’t let him know that. “A hundred.” You agree breathlessly. “As long as you make me cum tonight too.” He hums, smirking at you devilishly, “oh that’s gonna happen, hermosa.”

*****

Javier holds your hand as you walk through the shopping center, his eyes constantly looking for anyone suspicious. Ever since Escobar would bomb shops and streets, he's been anxious about the Gentlemen of Cali following his example as they get more desperate. He glances around and spots a photo booth. It's ridiculous but he wants something to remember you by once you leave. "Let's take a photo, hermosa." He says, dragging you over to the booth.

Giggling quietly, you let him pull you into the booth and drag the flimsy curtain closed while he fishes his wallet out of his back pocket to feed money into the machine. He had a hard time because you turn your head and start kissing him, grinding your ass against his lap suggestively as a wild idea comes to mind. “Let’s take pictures fucking.” You whisper in his ear, wanting something crazy to remember your time with Javier by.

His eyebrows raise but he doesn’t deny you. His hands immediately reach up to drag your tank top down. “Wanna keep a photo of your tits.” He declares, hardening immediately beneath you. “You’re fucking perfect.” He groans as the camera flashes.

You twist around and kiss him again, laughing as he starts to rush to unbuckle his belt and pull his cock out. Your own fingers pushing your panties down under your skirt and as soon as his cock is in his hand, the camera goes off again. “We will have to do another round.” You tell him, quickly sinking down on his length with your skirt around your waist and your tits out in the middle of a Photo Booth.

“I got more money. We will stay in here as long as we want.” Javier promises, groaning at the way you grip his cock inside of you. Your cunt is always so wet and hot. He hisses as you clench down around him, your giggle echoing in the booth as the camera flashes again. He turns your head to press his lips to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

The next time the camera flashes, you are bouncing on his cock and his hands are cupping your tits. You’re still kissing, your tongues tangled together and you moan into his mouth. It’s exciting and naughty, making you clench down around him because you know that you are out in public taking his cock.

He fucking loves how filthy you can be. His cock twitching inside of you as you rock your hips and he shifts to stand up, turning you around so you can brace yourself on the wall and he fucks into you, the camera flashing again and he knows it picked up his cock glistening with your arousal.

You bite down on your lip, not wanting to be too loud as he rocks into you from behind. Eyes rolling back, your head drops back on a low sigh, loving the way he shreds into you. Javi has a perfect cock and it hits all the right angles as your tits shake.

The machine starts to print the photos and Javier scrambles to pull his wallet out again, feeding the machine another bill while he’s still inside you. He rocks into you as he feeds the money and the machine whirls to life again. His hands come up to squeeze your tits and he groans when you grind back onto him.

“Fuck Javi, fuck.” You whimper quietly, eyes fluttering closed as he fucks you. You turn your head and kiss along his jaw until he tilts his head enough for you to kiss him again. You’ve never felt like this with anyone and you are going to be sad when you go back home.

The camera keeps flashing and Javier shifts to sit down again, wanting your face in the photos and he groans when you settle on top of him, facing the camera. Your tits sway as you rock on top of him and he wants you to cum on camera. His hand slides down to rub your clit, wanting you to fall over the edge for him.

Leaning back against his shoulder is so natural to you. In the time that you’ve been fucking, you’ve developed a natural rhythm that is so easy. You are uninhibited with him. “Javi.” You pant, stomach clenching when you feel his thick fingers expertly rub your clit. “Fuck I’m going to cum!” You squeal, mouth dropping open as you fall over the edge, right as the flash bursts again.

He loves the way you cum for him. His cock pushes up into you and he groans at the way you arch your back. His other hand squeezes your breast as he continues rubbing your clit until you push his hand away. “Good girl, hermosa. So fucking good for me.” He grunts, thrusting up into you a few more times before he cums, painting your walls with his hot seed and it’s captured on camera.

You continue to move, feeling his hands holding your hips tight as he floods your pussy with his cum. A feeling you have become completely addicted to. “God.” You giggle quietly, turning and pressing your lips to his. “I can’t wait to see how these turn out.” The first set of prints have been spit out and are developed, making you reach forward to snatch it up to look at while he’s still buried inside you.

He groans when you rock on his cock, the strip of photos in his hand and he smirks when he sees the different positions of your body and his. “Fuck, those are hot. You look so fucking sexy.” He murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Me, look at you.” You huff, biting your lip at the eroticism of it all. “I’m keeping this one. You can have the other one.” The machine spits out another strip of pictures and you snatch them up to compare. “This is great.” You clench down around him playfully. “Something to remember the amazing sex by.” You tease. “I’m going to have to pull these out and show my friends when I talk about the amazing cock of Javier Peña.”

Javier chuckles and kisses your shoulder, “I’ll keep it in my wallet. Jerk off to it when you’re gone.” He promises and his hands caress your sides until he sighs, “we better get dressed in case someone wants to come in here.” He chuckles, “come on baby.” He smacks your ass when you stand up.

You hiss in pleasure, pulling your panties back up and it will be a little experiment to see how much of his cum you can keep inside you while you are walking around. You tuck the strip of pictures you are keeping into your purse and take his wallet from where it’s sitting on the cash inserted to put it in with his money. “Nice and safe, babe.”

He turns your head to kiss you, sliding his tongue into your mouth and he caresses your side. You’ll be heading home soon and he doesn’t know how he’s gonna handle it but he will. He will love looking at those photos when you’re gone.

****

“So, I guess this is it.” Your carry on is slung over your shoulder and you bite your lip as you turn towards Javier at your gate. “You didn’t have to bring me to the airport.” True to his word, he had made sure you were safe the entire time you were in Colombia and had shown up this morning at your hotel to drive you to the airport. “Ready to make sure I’m gone, huh?” You tease. “Not causing trouble?”

Javier snorts, pulling you into his chest. “Yeah. Can’t wait to get rid of you.” He chuckles and presses his lips to your hair. It’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker to let you go but what can he do? He sighs and slides his hands down to squeeze your ass, his lips finding yours after he nudges your nose.

You sigh softly, your hands sinking into the hair at the base of his neck one last time. You hate leaving, wanting him to ask you to stay. You would. You’ve fallen completely in love with him, but love wasn’t what you two had anticipated and you wouldn’t make him feel guilty. Despite your fun ways, you wanted a family one day and he readily admits he’s not the marrying kind. “Thank you.” You murmur softly. “I had a hell of a time and I want you to be safe.”

“Where’s my hundred bucks?” He teases and you snort, “I left it in your Jeep.” You reveal and he rolls his eyes, “I was only joking, hermosa.” You caress his chest and he kisses you softly again just as your gate is called. “Go, baby. I’ll see you around.” He pats your ass and winks at you. He knows he can’t say goodbye when you’re taking his goddamn heart with you so for now, he will say see you later and pray it’s not too rough when he’s alone in bed.

You give your ticket to the gate agent and you turn back to look at Javier one last time. His eyes are so damn expressive but you know he wants you to go. Instead of making a scene or declaring your love, you give him a saucy wink and a smile before you disappear onto the gangway. You haven’t exchanged numbers and you know you will never see Javier Peña again.

****

“Hey man. Thanks for buying lunch.” Chris says to his boss after he pulls out his wallet. “Sure.” Javier grunts, pulling out some cash and the photo strip you’d put in there falls out.

Chris ducks down to get it and whistles as he sees the photos. “Goddamn. Nice set of tits.” He declares as he holds the strip and Javier growls, snatching it back from him. “Who was that?” Chris asks and Javier huffs, shoving his wallet back into his pants, “none of your fucking business.”

****

“Who is that?” Walter asks his boss who smirks, “Javier Peña. Caught Cali. Fought to get Escobar. Big deal around here, man. He transferred to our office last week and he knows his shit. Tried to retire but apparently got bored and wanted back in. The higher ups in D.C let him have his choice and he chose to come here to be close to his dad. We are lucky as shit to have him here.” The boss announces even though Javier will be his boss.

Walter nods, “what a legend. You think he’d want to have lunch with me? I could pick his brain about my case.” The boss shrugs, “worst he could do is tell you to fuck off.” Walter chuckles nervously and his boss walks off then Walter waits until just before lunch and finds Javier in his office, cigarette in hand.

“Hey. I, uh, my name is Walter. You maybe wanna get some lunch? I have a case and I need some insight.” Javier looks up at the man who seems a little too green to be a DEA agent but he nods, knowing that he will sit in his office and have coffee and smokes for lunch unless he goes out. “Sure.” Javier nods and Walter beams, excited to speak to the legend that is Agent Peña. Lunch went well and Javier finds himself liking Walter. He reminds him of Steve and he finds himself going to lunch with him most days, discussing his case and Javier tries to assist with his experience as much as he can.

“Listen, I really appreciate all your help. I wondered if you wanted to come for dinner. My lady makes an awesome pot roast and I’d like to thank you for all your help.” Javier hesitates, knowing that he’s stepping over the line to go to the guy’s house but he doesn’t have a lot of friends in Houston so he nods, agreeing and reminding himself that he needs to make friends otherwise he will be a lonely fucker.

“Sweetheart, it’s really important.” You try to suppress a sigh as you add running to the store to the ingredients to make a pot roast for dinner to your list of chores. Walter is great, but sometimes he does things without talking to you, when it adds more work to your already full plate. You feel slightly ungrateful, since you just moved in with him, out of the older, rough neighborhood where you lived and it has been a wonderful thing - you just feel like he’s trying to push you into being a perfect suburban housewife. Something you honestly weren’t.

“Mooooooom!” You nod when your son starts to call for you, needing help with his toy again, you hate that Walter had brought that damn thing home, but you get that he was trying to bond with your son. “Sure.” You agree, setting down the t-shirt you had been folding. “I’ll go to the store in the morning. I’m off anyway.”

Javier rubs his hands on his jeans as he stands outside the perfect little suburban house. It’s cute and makes Javier wonder for a brief moment if this is what his life with Lorraine would’ve looked like. He hesitates for a second, glancing down the street and he knows he needs to socialize more. He clears his throat and rings the doorbell. He hears footsteps and the door opens and he looks down, his eyes wide when he sees a little boy. “Hi mister.” He says and Javier chuckles, looking up and he asks, “is your dad home?” The boy shakes his head, “he’s not my daddy.” Javier nods and he smiles because the little boy looks like he did at that age.

Walter appears a moment later, “hey man. Sorry about him.” He says and ushers the little boy away, “come in.” Javier chuckles again, stepping into the house. Walter shouts your name and Javier pauses briefly at the name that’s haunted him for years. He knows it can’t be you but he freezes when you walk out of the kitchen and Walter wraps his arm around your waist.

Your heart stops, the man you’ve thought about every day for nearly six years. The one you think of every time you look in your son’s face. Your stomach churning, you realize that Walter is introducing you and you plaster a slightly sick, polite smile on your face. When you had come back to the states, you had realized that you were pregnant and by the time you had gathered the courage to call the embassy in Colombia to tell Javier, he had left. You had kicked yourself for not exchanging information, but you had taken it as a sign that you were supposed to be a single mother and had persevered. It was hard, damn hard, and you had always wondered if Walter had ever heard of the father of your child since he was DEA, but you had never talked about him with your boyfriend. Keeping the memory of Colombia to yourself beyond telling him that you had been when you were younger.

Javier feels like he’s been kicked in the gut. He’s thought about you damn near every day for six years. The woman he let go and he never got her phone number. He kicked himself every fucking day and here you are in front of him with his coworker and a little boy that looks just like him who’s about 5. He swallows harshly, stepping forward to shake your hand, and he is certain that Walter doesn’t know. He wouldn’t invite Javier to dinner to read him the riot act for abandoning a child he never knew about. Your hand is soft and Javier hates the spark that travels up his arm when he touches you. You’ve changed your hair and you look a little older but no less beautiful than the day you left Colombia. “It’s nice to meet you.” He manages to choke out, hating that he can't just pull you into his chest.

Swallowing harshly, your voice cracks slightly when you speak. “Ni-nice to meet you.” He’s going along like you’ve never met and while you are grateful because you don’t know how you will explain this to Walter, it also hurts. You wonder if he’s as shaken as you are. “Walter - he said you work together?” You ask, wondering why the hell he didn’t at least tell you Javier’s name. “He doesn’t talk about work much.” You confide. “Too much of it is classified.”

Javier nods, “yeah. I just transferred to the Houston office. I was down in Cali Colombia for a few years, Medellín before that. Came back home to retire and got restless so I’m here in Houston. No family to keep me busy so Walter took pity on me and invited me for dinner.” He explains, rubbing his cheek for a second and your son rushes off to get the new toy Walter bought him.

“Do you like my car?” He asks Javier who kneels down, knowing in his heart that this is his son. He always knew it would happen one day, that he’d accidentally get someone pregnant.

You bite your lip when you see Javi with your son. You see the silent confirmation in his eyes when he looks up. He knows that your son is his. “I’ll go get some drinks.” You offer, needing a moment to compose yourself and you rush off to the kitchen, knowing you will pour yourself one to drink before making anyone else’s.

Javier is still kneeling down admiring the car and he asks the little boy his name, “it’s Diego.” He declares proudly and Javier can’t help but smile, “Diego.” He repeats the boy’s name and he lets him talk about the car until Walter interrupts. “Enough with the damn car, kid. Go to your room until dinner is ready.” Javier clenches his jaw but knows it would be wrong for him to say anything and he stands up, winking at the little boy, “I wanna see the rest of your collection before I leave.” Diego grins and rushes off just as you bring a tray of drinks into the living room. “Thanks, her- thanks.” Javier corrects himself as he takes the drink from your tray.

You nod and Walter kisses your cheek as he takes his own drink. “Thanks, babe.” He takes a sip of his whiskey and chuckles. “This is the first time we’ve entertained since you’ve moved in.” He realizes before he looks at Javi. “She wasn’t living in the best neighborhood when we met. It’s actually how we met.”

That rubs Javier wrong, knowing that you lived in a shitty neighborhood with his son. He looks at you and you avert your gaze, smiling at Walter. “It wasn’t that bad.” You argue and Walter scoffs, “they had fucking gunshots every night.” Javier grips his glass a little tighter. “It’s a good thing you live in such a perfect suburb now.” Javier offers Walter a smile.

“Yeah, I wanted to get her out of there.” He boasts. “She was too good to be there wasting away and the kid is in a better school.” You feel uneasy about the conversation, because you had seriously looked at all the aspects when you were debating moving in with Walter. “We met because I called in about some drug houses nearby.” You explain. “Walter was the agent who came out to investigate.”

Javier nods in understanding and wishes he had been the agent to respond to that call but that’s below his rank and he wasn’t in town at that stage. “Meth house. Luckily she called in, because that place was moments away from exploding.” Walter declares and Javier snorts, “idiots trying to make shit they don’t understand. They always try to do it on the cheap. Best meth houses I’ve seen are in nice houses.” Javier explains, “I’m glad you’re in a better place.” Javier says to you with sincerity.

You smile quickly, conflicted even more now that you see Javier again. All the feelings you had sworn were faded to a bittersweet memory are rushing back and you feel guilty about that. “Thank you.” You murmur softly. “I just want the best for Diego.”

Javier nods, glad that you seem to have been handling being a single mother. The guilt feels like rocks settled in his stomach but he can’t talk to you about it right now. Obviously Walter doesn’t know who the father is and you aren’t volunteering the news. “I can’t believe you took down Cali. What was it like? Your time there?” Walter asks and Javier sighs, “it was difficult. The men that commit those kinds of crimes have no empathy, no emotion. They just do what they please. No rules and that makes it difficult to handle. Imagine fighting an enemy that doesn’t care if women and children are killed. It’s hard to fight an endless war. I was lonely. It’s hard, you can’t make connections because those people are at risk. I fought hard but I’m glad to be back home.”

You bite your lip, remembering the almost desperate ways Javi would hold onto you, especially while he was inside you. Like he was afraid of losing you. You wish you had stayed, despite the danger, giving him a refuge. “Hopefully you had someone?” You probe, making it seem innocent, but really asking if he had moved on to someone else after you had left.

“For about a month or so but she had to leave. After that…I was alone. Didn’t want to put anyone in danger.” He reveals to you with a soft smile and Walter chuckles, “I heard you were in whorehouses every night.” Javier shakes his head, “not when I was in Cali. During the Escobar years, yeah. I did what it took to get the job done and men like to spill their secrets while inside a woman.” He says, “it’s what we had to do.”

The timer in the kitchen buzzes and you jump slightly, caught up in the memories of Cali. “That’s dinner.” You huff with a small laugh. “Let me get it on the table while you two talk.” Your cheeks burn, feeling his eyes watching as you escape back to the kitchen. Unable to believe that Javier is back in your life.

Javier sits down at the table and Diego comes rushing in, hungry for his dinner, and Javi finds he can’t take his eyes off of the young boy. He’s missed so much of his life and he needs to speak to you because he doesn’t want to miss anything else. Walter occupies the dinner with his stories about his cases and Javier hums and nods in the right spots while you and Diego talk about his school day. Javier would rather listen to the little boy but he forces himself to listen to Walter. “That was incredible.” Javier declares, his plate clean, and you offer him that smile that seemingly still makes his heart flutter.

“I made a cake for dessert.” You offer. “Tres leche, it’s Diego’s favorite.” You explain, ignoring the way Walter rolls his eyes. He sometimes accuses you of spoiling your son, but in your defense, he’s entitled to have special treats because for so long they were luxuries you couldn’t routinely provide. “And I made some coffee?”

Javier smiles, “sounds delicious. Let me help with the plates.” He offers and Walter shakes his head, “the boy can do it.” Javier clenches his jaw and looks at his coworker. “I’ll handle it. He is still a little kid.” Javier stands up and grabs the plates, stacking them while Diego glances across the room to his pile of toys with longing. “He needs to learn some manners.” Walter scoffs and Javier refrains from punching the prick talking about his son like that. He doesn’t respond and makes his way into the kitchen, “were you ever gonna tell me? Why didn’t you call?” Javier whispers, pissed off that you didn’t let him know he has a kid.

Glancing towards the door, you motion for him to be quiet. “I did.” You murmur quietly. “You had already left Colombia.” You know you could have tried harder, but you were just trying to focus on your pregnancy at the time.

Javier stares at you, his chest tightening and he feels a little sick. “Jesus. I- I had left and I didn’t even - I didn’t have your number otherwise I would’ve called you. I’ve missed out on so much. I’m so sorry.” He chokes, closing his eyes for a second.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about.” You murmur softly. “It’s not your fault. It just….happened.” You know Walter will be expecting cake and coffee, so you pull the cake out of the fridge and start slicing it.

Javier doesn’t like the way you seem to jump to whatever Walter wants but it’s not his place to say anything. “Can I - I want to get to know him. To be his father. Can we have a time where I’m introduced to him officially?” Javier asks, wanting to make sure you’d be okay with that.

“I- I don’t know-“ you hesitate to say no because you know that Javier would be a good father. “Let me think about it.” You decide, knowing that would have to be good enough for right now. You plate up the slices of cake and pour the coffee. “Alright! Who’s ready for cake?” You call out, making Diego cheer.

Javier’s chest tightens and he knows he has no right to demand access to his son after you’ve raised him alone but he desperately wants the chance to be the father his son should’ve had from birth. He sighs and follows you out to the dining room where Diego has his toy car and Walter is staring at the TV in the corner of the room that is on mute.

“Here you go, mijo.” You smooth his hair down, pressing a kiss to his head and Diego ducks in embarrassment. “Moooom.” He huffs, even if he’s excited for cake. You chuckle and serve Walter his cake as well, going back to the kitchen for the coffee.

Javier watches you walk into the kitchen for a second before Walter clears his throat and asks Javier about the latest case against some thugs from the city that just got busted in the biggest drug seizure in the U.S. Javier shrugs, “even the biggest operations mess up. It’s about timing and tenacity.”

Walter shrugs. “They are all stupid, they are dealing drugs.” He tells Javi. “I don’t know how they think they can outsmart us.”

Javier snorts, “a lot do. They have one thing we don’t have: no rules. They can do whatever they want. They don’t have red tape and paperwork and warrants. They don’t care about innocents getting hurt. They only care about their money and they will do whatever it takes to get it. A lot slip under the radar because of it.” Javier shrugs and takes a bite of the cake, moaning at the taste. “This is just like my mama used to make.”

Walter snorts at his answer while you beam, bringing the cups of coffee back into the room, a cup of milk for Diego. “Thank you.” You set his coffee down and hand Walter his. “Diego, when you finish your cake, it’s bath time.” The boy groans and huffs quietly but he nods. “Yes mama.”

The boy digs back into his cake but is slower this time, making Javier chuckle and Walter huffs, “when he’s in bed, we can have a smoke and talk about that case down on the border.” Javier nods and you set his coffee down, just like he used to have it. “Thank you.” He says, his eyes lingering on you for a second too long.

Walter lifts a brow, but he doesn’t say anything, patting you on the ass as you walk by to your chair. You bite your lip, not looking over at Javi as you pick up your fork. “I’ll let you two talk while I clean up then.”

Javier watches you gather Diego to get him ready for bed. The five year old whines in protest which makes Javier chuckle because he used to do the same to his mama and he ignores the way Walter looks at him with curiosity.

“Didn’t take you for a man who likes kids.” Walter snorts after making sure that you are in the hall bathroom and the water is turned on. “I’m not really either, but mom is worth it.” He brags. “Plus the little snot isn’t so bad. Not like he has a dad to run to when he doesn’t like me.”

Javier taps his fingers on the table, “he’s a cute kid. Seems like she’s raised him well. As for the dad…well, you never know. He could show up one day.” Javier says and Walter snorts, “unlikely. She said it was a one night stand.” Walter says and Javier’s heart aches at that. He knows he didn’t call you but you spent a lot of time together during your stint in Colombia.

In the bathroom, you are playing with Diego, laughing as he scrubs the bubble through his hair and barely manages not to get too soaked as he splashes with his toys. Javier is here. He knows about your son. You look at the boy you had created with him and you sigh softly. Wondering if you are doing the right thing. The same worry you’ve had since you found out you were pregnant with your son.

Javier and Walter talk about the case down on the border with the drug mules and he finally takes his leave just as you come out from getting Diego in bed. “I’m heading out. I have a meeting early in the morning.” Javier says, “thank you for dinner. It was, uh, great to meet you.” He says and you nod, “yeah. You too.” You respond and Walter slaps Javier on the back as he guides him to the front door. Javier glances back at you before he steps out of the house, reeling from the fact that he has a son. The question is if you are going to let him be involved.

****

The phone rings as you open the door, Diego rushing in with his school bag to drop it and play with his toys and you hurry to where the phone is hanging on the wall. “Hello?” You answer breathlessly, wondering if it’s Walter since he’s supposed to be working late tonight.

Javier hesitates for a second before he says your name, “it’s Javier. I- I wanted to talk to you while Walter isn’t there. I want…I want to meet my son. Officially.” He declares, knowing he has a right even if he hasn’t been there for the past five years. He didn’t know about his existence.

“Javi….” You grip the phone tight and turn around so Diego won’t see you, he’s busy with his toys but you don’t want him to see you upset. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You admit. “Walter doesn’t- he doesn’t know who Diego’s father is. I don’t want to complicate things.”

“I won’t tell him. If you don’t want him to know. I just - I need to meet him. See him. I can’t carry on and pretend like I don’t have a son.” He runs his fingers through his hair, his fingers flexing around the phone.

His plea tugs on your heart and it makes you feel even more guilty about not calling the embassy sooner. How would things have been different if you had told him? He had been firmly of the opinion he wasn’t a family man, and yet he is wanting to know Diego. “I- Walter is working late tonight.” You tell Javi. “So I had planned on taking Diego to the park in about an hour.”

“What park?” Javier asks, reaching for a notepad to write down the park name. He’s determined to be there for his son. He won’t be an absent father even if Walter doesn’t like it. You tell him the name and he nods, telling you he will see you there in an hour.

Sighing softly, you hang up the phone and turn to your son. “Mijo, you want to go to the park?” Your energetic five year old is always ready for the park and he jumps up from his toys with an excited cry. “Yeah!” The pure joy on his face makes you smile. “Come on then. Dinner first okay?”

Javier pulls into the park and he’s thankful when he spots you and Diego already there so he doesn’t have to hang around the parking lot like a creepy old man. He gets out and makes his way over to the bench where you are sitting. “Thanks for meeting me.” He says as he sits down beside you.

“You’re welcome.” You are nervous, something that is so odd considering you were so open and free with Javier at one point in time. You take a deep breath. “Okay….let's hear it.”

Javier watches Diego from across the park, his smile wide as he plays with another kid. “I get it. I told you one night that I wasn’t the guy who got married and had kids. Told you about Lorraine and all that shit. I get why you wouldn’t tell me. I’m not gonna win father of the year but I’d at least like to try. I’ve missed out on so much with him and I want to be there for my son. Even if…even if you don’t want him to know I’m his dad.”

“I tried to call.” You remind him, reaching out and touching his arm before you remember that you shouldn’t be reaching for the man who isn’t your boyfriend. “I didn’t want to call the DEA and ask about you. And when I met Walter….” You sigh. “I was afraid it would be wrong of me to use him to find you. I don’t regret keeping Diego.” You promise, turning and smiling as he runs for the slide. “He’s the light of my life.”

Javier smiles, wishing he could reach for your hand but you’re not his, you never were. “Walter doesn’t seem to be all in on being a stepfather.” Javier observes and he sighs, “sorry. That was - that was out of line. It’s not my place.” He shakes his head, “you’re with Walter. I just - I want the best for my son. Even if that means me stepping away.”

You frown, hearing him voice your own private worries. You’ve noticed that the friendliness of your boyfriend had worn off, but you had assumed that it was just the growing pains of moving in together. He wasn’t used to kids. “If I had- if you knew, would you have wanted to be involved?” You ask curiously.

Javier nods without hesitation. “I would have been involved. I was raised to take responsibility and I would’ve absolutely been there for you and our son.” He promises, glancing at you.

You had known that he would, but you lean a little closer. “Would you have resented me for it?” You press. “I don’t want Diego to just be a responsibility to you, you don’t owe me anything.”

Javier shakes his head, “I would’ve never resented you for getting pregnant. I was - I was surprised it had never happened by accident when I was in Colombia before during Escobar. Always mentally prepared for it to happen. I’m back home now and I tried to retire, to stay on my Pa’s farm and relax but I didn’t have any purpose. I need a purpose and my purpose now is my son. I want to know him. I want to be there for him. Not out of obligation but out of want.”

His words make your heart melt and you bite your lip. “I think you should get to know him.” You admit. “I would love that. I just- I need to figure out how to tell Walter at some point.” You know you can’t keep it a secret, but you are dreading the conversation.

Javier nods, “whenever you’re ready. I’m not going to rush you on that. I do want to be there for our son but I’m not here to mess with the life you’ve created.” He promises just as Diego rushes over. “Mom. Mom. Look what I found.” He holds out his hand towards you and shows you the shell he found in the sandpit.

“It’s so pretty, mijo.” You coo over the shell, knowing how much he loves finding pretty little things and you pull him close. “Do you remember mister Javi, from dinner the other night?” You ask, making him look over at Javier with a quick nod. “He wants to see all my cars!” He nearly shouts it with excitement, always eager to show off his toys and talk about them. It makes you smile. “Uh huh he does, but, there’s a big surprise that we want to tell you about.” You explain. “I’ve met mister Javi before. He’s your daddy.”

Diego's eyes widen as he looks at Javier who offers him his soft smile, "hey buddy. I'm your dad." He says quietly and Diego stares at him before his brow furrows and he says "I'm five. Where were you?" The little boy asks Javier who shifts awkwardly on the bench but leans closer. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I was fighting bad guys and it wasn't safe for your mommy and you. I am back home now and it's safe."

“He didn’t know, baby.” You promise him. “He was doing things to fight the bad guys and it was scary. So I didn’t tell him.” You are willing to take the blame. “But he wants to know you.”

Diego's lip trembles slightly as he looks between his parents until he surges forward to wrap his arms around Javier's neck, dragging him down until Javier shifts onto his knees on the gravel and wraps his arms around the little boy. His eyes sting with unshed tears and he closes his eyes, unable to believe that he's holding his son.

Tears slip down your cheeks as you watch Javi hold his son close. Pressing your hand to your mouth to keep from making a sound, you know you were so wrong to keep Javi from his son. You wish you had your camera with you to take a picture of the sweet moment.

Javier rubs his back and pulls back after a moment to look at Diego. He cups his cheek and smiles at him, "I'm here now, mijo." He murmurs, stroking his cheek. "You wanna go on the swings?" He asks, wanting to have a bonding moment with him.

You don’t offer to go with them, wanting them to have a moment to themselves. You had wondered what Javi would ever do if he found out you had his child and now you have your answer. He might not ever have felt anything more than causal affection and lust, but it’s obvious he wants a connection with his child. You just wonder how this will complicate things for him at work with Walter. You’ll have to tell him at some point.

Javier grins as he pushes Diego on the swings, enjoying the way his son laughs and squeals. He cannot believe how much he's missed out on but he's determined to be there now for his son. Diego escorts him around the playground and Javier follows him until you call out that it's getting late. Javier is disappointed but understands as he guides Diego over to you. "Time to go buddy." Javier announces, his hand on the little boy's shoulder squeezes to reassure him.

“We will play again, right?” Diego demands and you quickly nod. “We will, sweetheart. I promise.” You glance from him to Javier and bite your lip. “Soon. As soon as we can, alright? Your daddy and I will work something out.”

Diego nods and Javier bends down to give him another hug. “You listen to your mom, okay? And I’ll see you soon.” He promises the little boy who grins at his father. “Call me when you can.” Javier says, taking a piece of paper out of his pocket. “My number is on there.”

You look at the scrap of paper and wonder how different things would be if you had given him your number so long ago, or if you had a number for him in the states. Nodding, you tuck it into your pocket and take Diego’s hand. “We should get back. I’m sure Walter will be home in a few hours.” You tilt your head. “You must not be working on the same case, since you’re here. He said he’s going to have a busy week this week.”

Javier frowns, "I didn't hear about a case but Walter might be working on something new. Things can move fast sometimes." Javier says and he is confused because there hasn't been a meeting about anything other than the border issue, which is still ongoing.

You smile and shrug. “Like I said, he doesn’t discuss much with me.” It’s completely different than when you and Javi were tangled together, sweaty and satiated in your little hotel room. That was when he was the most talkative, sometimes confiding in you and sounding things out. You miss that. “How are you sleeping?” You ask, wondering if he’s still plagued with sleepless nights. He had claimed that sleeping beside you had been peaceful and hopefully he had learned what made that so good.

He shrugs one shoulder, “some nights are good. Some…well, whiskey is a good companion.” He snorts, “only have it on nights I really can’t sleep.” He admits and knows he shouldn’t drink as much as he does but it’s how he quells the nightmares. Sex hasn’t really been an option since he came home. Well, since you.

You sigh softly and Diego tugs on your hand, impatient to not be standing around and talking. Bored now that he’s not playing. “I-I’ll call you, okay?” You offer. “To set something up, and….talk.” You know he had a million questions that need to be asked when Diego isn’t around and you owe him that.

Javier nods, “thanks, hermosa.” He says without even thinking about the nickname. “I- I appreciate this more than you’d ever know.” He promises and looks down at Diego. “See you soon, buddy.” He winks and Diego waves at him. Javier makes his way back to his truck and gets in, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel as he watches you get Diego into the car. He’s missed you and to know that you are with someone is killing him but he has to accept it.

****

“It’s just a bowling party.” You feel guilty for lying to Walter, but he’s been busy anyway. Coming home late for the past two weeks since he’s been putting in a lot of overtime on his new case. There hasn’t been time to sit down and have a serious talk with him about Javi being Diego’s father. Still, your stomach churns and you wish you had just been honest in the beginning instead of sneaking around to meet Javi so he can spend time with his son. They’ve met nearly every other day and you’ve always been along, trusting Javi, but wanting to be there for Diego. You clutch the phone in your hand and turn to look at the clock. “We’ve got to go if we are going to make it on time. You’re working late again?”

Walter hums down the line as he shuffles his papers. “Yeah. Late night again. Trying to catch these bastards.” Walter says and you move around the house with the cordless phone at your ear, gathering Diego’s things. “We will see you later then.” You say and Walter just grunts and ends the call. When you arrive at the bowling alley, Javier is already there. He bought the lane and got some shoes for himself but didn’t know about your size and Diego’s. He shifts awkwardly but smiles when you walk in. “Hey.” He waves after he stands up.

“Daddy!” Diego breaks away from you and rushes towards Javier, obviously excited to see him. Every interaction has shown you what a good man, a good father Javier is. You had known he would be, but you find yourself dangerously comparing the men in your life and you know that it’s not fair to Walter. You owe him your heart because you are with him and he’s been so good to you. However, Javier is just so natural with your son. “Hey.” You follow behind, greeting him when he’s holding Diego up and hugging him tight. “You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

Javier shakes his head, “no. Not long. I ordered some drinks. Juice for Diego. Got you a beer.” He smiles and gestures to the lane, “and I had them put the guards up and got a slide so Diego can get a strike.” He winks at his son who beams back, excited to do this with his dad.

“Thanks.” You know you shouldn’t accept it, but it’s been a long week and a beer will be nice. “I’ll go get him some shoes.” You tell Javi and he hands you two tickets. “I want you to play too.” He murmurs. “Do this together.” You feel your stomach churn in pleasure at him thinking about you and nod. “Sure.” You smile and nod, taking the tickets and turning towards the booth that has all the bowling shoes.

Once you and Diego have your shoes, Javier helps his son line up the ladder and he lifts the ball onto the top, holding on. "You ready, mijo? On the count of three. One...two...three!" Javier says and Diego lets go of the wall, watching it roll down the lane in the middle until it hits the pins and takes all ten down. "Good job!" Javier cheers, lifting Diego up and he grins, looking up at his father.

Another moment you know they deserve. You clap happily for Diego and cheer, knowing he will be proud of himself and in turn, love Javi even more. “Way to go!” You are completely taken aback when they turn to you, their grins are the exact same and you shake your head in awe of it.

Javier plays the next bowl and gets his own strike, Diego eagerly high fiving him for his success and Javier comes over to you. “You turn, hermosa.” He says, writing down his score on the card.

“Sooo much pressure.” You huff, grinning at the way Diego is perched between Javi’s legs the second his dad sits down. It’s as if this is a normal family outing, the three of you never being apart. “Let me seeeee.” You walk over to the ball return and pick up the red ball Diego had used. “Can I use this for luck?” You ask and turn when your son says it’s okay. You spin the ball down the lane and only manage to knock down one pin. “Well….darn.” You huff, having cut down on your cursing around your son.

Javier tuts, patting Diego's shoulders as he stands up. "You can do it, hermosa." He says and walks over to you, grabbing the same ball when it returns. He reaches for you, showing you how to position your feet and he stands behind you, helping you pull your arm back to throw the ball down the lane.

You aren’t paying attention to a word he says. Too busy inhaling the smell of his cologne, the same one he wore in Colombia, so it’s a familiar scent. You shiver slightly and bite your lip as you stumble forward to let the ball go down the lane.

Javier holds your waist as you watch the ball roll down the lane until it hits right in the middle and the pins all fall down. “Yeah! Mommy!” Diego cheers and Javier pulls you into his arms to hug you. “Good job, hermosa.” He cheers and you embrace him for a second until he’s pulling back, clearing his throat when he realizes he overstepped. “Uh, I’ll write down the score.” He says, stepping back to the podium while Diego rushes to hug you.

You hate how your entire body reacts to Javi’s touch and it’s clear to you that you still have feelings for him. You’ve never stopped having feelings, but the physical attraction is still there. You concentrate on Diego and let him praise you for the turn before you busy yourself helping him with his next roll.

Javier realizes that he’s overstepped and he knows that if Walter were there, he’d be rightfully punching his lights out. Javier takes a gulp of his beer and Diego rushes over, asking for his help to line up his ball. Javier nods and stands, his eyes glancing at you for a moment until he’s helping Diego line up the slide for the ball. When you finish bowling, Diego is whining about leaving his dad. “We will go to the movies soon, buddy.” He promises and ruffles Diego’s hair.

“I wish I could sleep over at your house.” He tells his dad and turns his big eyes over to you. “Johnny has sleepovers at his dad’s house on the weekends. They go eat breakfast together and sometimes his mommy comes too.” You bite your lip and look up at Javi. “We will have to talk about that.” You tell your son, not wanting to say no, but not sure if Javi actually wanted the responsibility of taking care of Diego without you.

Javier wants that. He wants more time with his son. With you. He can’t have that though so he has to settle for seeing his son now and then and wanting you when he’s alone in bed thinking about those precious weeks in Colombia. Looking back, he fell in love with you at that time and refused to acknowledge it, but those feelings apparently never left because it’s like a punch in the gut when he sees your smile. “Me and your mom will talk, buddy.” He promises and you glance at your watch. “We better be heading home.” You announce and Diego pouts just like you do, making Javier smile. “We will check the movies in the newspaper soon, mijo. Go see something.” Javier promises and Diego nods. You get your shoes on after handing the bowling ones to the desk and when you’re ready, Diego rushes over to hug his daddy goodbye. Javier kisses his hair and rubs his back, “see you later.” Javier stands up and smiles at you, stepping forward to kiss your cheek, “see you later, hermosa.” He murmurs, resisting the urge to kiss you to see how you’d react but he can’t overstep and ruin this for this son.

Your eyes flutter closed and if you just turned your head a few inches to the left, your lips would be against his again. You’ve imagined it a thousand times, as guilty as that makes you feel. You need to talk to Walter and you need to be honest with yourself about what you want. Your future seemed so easy before Javier showed back up in your life, but now…. Now, you dream about a dark haired man that had been the best lover of your life and is the father of your son. You are so screwed.

****

Javier rubs his forehead, the cigarette in his hand as he looks over the file to sign off on the latest case. He sighs and taps his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray and glances at the clock. It’s late. Everyone should be gone from the office but he hears a scream. Standing up in shock, Javier rushes through the office, wanting to make sure no one has been hurt. He’s confused why anyone is here. Most people leave as soon as the day is done. The scream happens again and he rushes through the office until he comes to an open door. Walter’s office. He stands there, taking in the scene. Walter has a woman on his desk, her legs around his waist as he fucks into her and Javier clenches his jaw.

The bastard is cheating on you. He doesn’t confront him, not wanting to let him get ahead on his story with you even if Walter doesn’t know that Javier has seen you since that dinner at his house. Javier turns and heads back to his office, knowing he needs to tell you but he doesn’t know how or when. He doesn’t want you to think he’s trying to intentionally ruin your relationship.

Looking at the clock, you sigh softly when the phone rings. It’s probably Walter, telling you that he’s working late again, even though you’ve already figured that out when he didn’t come home for dinner. Diego is asleep, you are watching tv and pondering what you are going to do. Since moving in with Walter, you’ve managed to save up some money, but it isn’t much. Still, you feel so disconnected from the man you are living with, you know that it’s not right to continue living here. You’re using him, since all your thoughts are focused on Javier Peña. “Hello?”

“Hey. It’s me.” Javier says and you lean against the wall, holding the phone. “Javi.” You murmur and he isn’t sure how to tell you. “I need to talk to you. Can I come over?” He asks, knowing that Walter isn’t done yet. He’s usually gone for hours from what you said in the past.

It’s late and you almost say no. It’s a bad idea to have Javi here, but there’s an urgency to his voice that makes you hesitate. “Is everything okay?” You ask, but he just asks if he can come over again and you bite your lip. “Sure. How long will it take you to get here?”

“I’m about to leave the office.” He says, “I’ll be there in ten.” He tells you and puts the phone down, grabbing his jacket. He strides out to his truck, knowing that Walter is still in his office with his secret lover, and Javier speeds to your house, getting out and ringing the doorbell.

You had just checked on Diego and when the doorbell rings, you rush to the door. “That was quicker than ten minutes.” You joke as he shuffles into the house and you close the door behind him. “Is everything alright? I- I made coffee.”

Javier nods, “yeah. I, uh, I - shit. I don’t know how to say this without sounding like the biggest asshole in the world because you could take it the wrong way but I was working late and I saw - I saw Walter fucking one of the secretaries.” He reveals, chest heaving slightly and he prays you don’t reject his claim.

You stop short, immediately furrowing your brows together. Javier has never lied to you, ever. He’s always been upfront and honest and you don’t see why he would lie now. “He’s what?” Your stomach twists and you wonder if this is the sign you needed to make your decision. “He’s supposed to be- are you sure?” You ask, shaking your head as a million different questions and thoughts jumble around in your brain.

“Call his office. He’s there. He was - he was in there with her and I- I’m so sorry.” He chokes, hoping you don’t hate him and he shakes his head, “call him. He’s at work, but he’s with her. I wouldn’t lie to you, cariño.” He promises and his eyes widen as you shake your head.

“I don’t believe it.” You fume, not mad at him, but at the audacity of your boyfriend. Why would he ever move you in and want to commit when he was cheating? Picking up the phone, you quickly dial his office phone.

Javier wipes his hands on his jeans, feeling guilty for coming to you to give you this news but he doesn’t want you or his son around a man that would cheat on you. He shakes his head and waits as you listen to the phone ring.

Your hands shake as you wait, the phone ringing nearly four times before you hear Walter answer. “Hey babe.” You coo, even though you want to scream at him. He’s breathless and panting as he greets you and asks what you want. Reminding you that he’s busy. “I just wanted to see what time you are coming home tonight.” You tell him. “You’ve been working a lot of late nights.” You hum, turning around and glaring at Javi as you listen to him lie to you and talk about how the case is kicking his ass. You hear a woman giggle in the background. Walter must think you are stupid. “Okay. Well, you be careful and I’ll see you when you get home, okay?”

Walter hums and says goodbye before the line goes dead and you stare at it before placing it back on the wall. “You’re right.” You tell Javier and he doesn’t say anything, “I’m sorry. I didn’t - I can’t stand by and watch him do that to you and our son.” He says and you nod, still shocked by the revelation.

“I have to leave him.” You murmur quietly, shaking your head again and feeling ashamed that you aren’t more upset. You don’t love him. You had been starting to realize that and when you heard that quiet giggle, it’s like every ounce of affection you had for him had died. “I have to pack.” You won’t stay here another night, you can’t. “God…okay, I need to pack.”

“You can come stay with me.” He volunteers, “I have a spare room and I- I don’t want you staying here if that’s the kind of guy he is. Or I can get you guys a hotel room and help you find an apartment. I don’t want to think about you and him here when he’s fucking some other woman. I’m so sorry.”

“God, I’m so stupid.” You blame yourself, you jumped in too soon. Taken in by his charm and wanting to get Diego out of the neighborhood you were raising him in. You wrap your arms around yourself and close your eyes. “I don’t know if you want us with you. You never signed up for this. I should get a hotel. I can manage one for a few days until I find something.” You know you will have to find a place quickly and even if you have some savings, it won’t be a great house in a nice neighborhood.

Javier shakes his head at you, “don’t be ridiculous. You aren’t going into a hotel. You’re coming home with me.” He says with command, not wanting his son and the mother of his son in some shitty motel. “Go pack your things, baby. Get everything important and we will come back for the rest.” He says, glancing around the house.

You blow out a breath, secretly relieved that he is insisting that you stay with him. “Okay.” You agree. “I won’t be too long. We sold most of my things to move in here with Walter.” You admit. “Mostly just our clothes and Diego’s toys.”

“Go get what you need. Then we will wake Diego and go.” He says, anxious to get you out of this house and away from a cheating asshole. He watches you grab a duffel bag and he walks over to the window to keep a watch in case Walter decides to arrive home early.

You quickly pack several outfits for you and your toiletries before sneaking into Diego’s room to do the same. It’s honestly a little sad how much of this home isn’t yours, but you hadn’t really thought about it before. Walter had just encouraged you to get rid of your old, secondhand things and promised to give you the best of everything. Apparently it was the price of him being unfaithful. You bring the bags out, the folder with your important papers in your bags and grab a laundry basket for your son’s toys.

Javier takes the bags, carrying them out to your car and he watches as you wake Diego up, gathering him into your arms after he complains about being woken up. “You want to follow me in your car?” Javier asks softly even if Diego snuggles into your neck.

“Yes.” You should leave a note for Walter, but honestly, what would you say? You grab his blanket, the one he’s had since he was a baby and wrap it around him. “Come on, baby.” You murmur softly. “We are going to have a sleepover at Daddy’s tonight.”

Diego grins, “daddy’s?” He asks and you nod, carrying him to your car. “Yes, sleepover.” Diego wakes up at that as you strap him in and Javier carries the last of your things into the car to get ready to leave Walter’s. “You ready, baby?” He asks after you shut the car door.

“Thank you.” You murmur quietly. “I know this isn’t at all what you wanted to do with your Friday night.” You blow out a small sigh. “Let’s get out of here before that asshole gets home. I want him to fucking worry about what the hell is going on.”

Javier chuckles, loving that you are fighting back against this asshole. “Good. Let’s go, hermosa.” He says and makes sure you’re in your car before he makes his way over to his truck so he can show you the way to his place. He pulls away from Walter’s and watches in the mirror to make sure you’re behind him as he drives.

You follow Javi and find that he lives in a nice little apartment complex, parking next to him when he pulls in and Diego is already asleep in the back of the car again. “We should probably get him in first.” You murmur quickly. “Do you want to carry him?”

Javier nods, “absolutely. Take my keys.” He offers his keys and you take them. He opens the car door and carefully unbuckles Diego before he carries him to his front door, watching you unlock it and he’s glad he cleaned up earlier. He carries him through to the spare bedroom and you pull the covers back so you can lay the little boy down before you cover him back up. “You get settled in. I’ll get your things.” Javier says and makes his way back out to get your bags.

You sigh softly and sit down beside Diego, brushing his hair back from his forehead and watching him as he flops over and starts to hug his pillow. He looks like Javi when he sleeps, even more than he does just existing. It makes you smile, even with the turmoil currently upending your life.

Javier carries your things into the spare room and locks your car so you have all your bags. “You want something to eat?” He asks, “or drink?” You snort, “a drink for sure.” He chuckles and gets you a glass of whiskey from his bar. “Here you go, hermosa.” He says, holding the glass in his hand.

You take the glass, reminding yourself that you just found out that your boyfriend - ex boyfriend - was cheating on you. The urge to lunge at Javi and fuck him isn’t right. It wouldn’t be fair to you or to Diego when he realizes he’s not the type to play happy family. He wants to be a father to the son you made, not be with you. “Thanks.” You sigh and take a large drink of the whiskey. “Fuck,” you chuckle to yourself and huff. “This was a hell of a way to make my decision.”

Javier watches you take a large gulp and he wishes you weren’t in his home under these circumstances. “Come sit down, hermosa.” He says, heading over to his sofa. He pats the space next to him and looks down at his own drink. “I’m sorry Walter is a fucking prick. I hate cheaters.” He shakes his head, “my Pa would kill me if I ever cheated.”

You snort and have to appreciate the honesty. “But it’s hard to cheat when you aren’t in a relationship.” You remind him. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe no one is relationship material. I didn’t love Walter, I know that now, but I was faithful. I tried to be a good girlfriend.”

Javier huffs, “don’t blame yourself. You did nothing wrong. He was a pig. Had you running around after him all the damn time. When I came over for dinner, he was…he was not good enough for you. You deserve more. You deserve to have an equal partner. A good relationship. Someone who loves you and cares for you and for Diego. He deserved better.” Javier says and you nod, taking another sip of your whiskey. “I’m sorry, hermosa.” He murmurs, glancing across the living room.

“It’s not your fault.” You are actually grateful that he let you know. You could have continued being oblivious to the facts. “I need to make a doctor’s appointment. Get tested because I know that fucker didn’t use a condom.”

Javier nods, “you are welcome to stay here as long as you want.” He wishes you would be here permanently but he can’t force his feelings on you when you just left Walter. There’s a knock on his door and Javier frowns, standing up. He makes his way over to it and checks the peephole, his jaw clenching when he sees Walter and he swings the door open and says “what the fuck are you doing here?”

You can tell by the tone that it’s Walter, although where you are sitting on the couch, he can’t see you. But you know that he might have seen your car in the parking lot. “I want to know why the fuck I come home and my house is empty, no note and I come over here to find my girlfriend’s car in the parking lot.” Walter spits, pushing into the apartment and snorting when he sees you on the couch. “What the fuck are you doing here? I introduced you to my co-worker. I didn’t expect you to fuck him.”

Javier shakes his head, “she called me to collect her for somewhere to stay because she found out you’re fucking Sally from the office.” Javier crosses his arms and you come to stand behind Javier. “You’re fucking kidding me?” Walter scoffs, “I took you and your little bastard into my house, took you out of that shithole apartment in the goddamn ghetto and you won’t allow me to have a little fun?” Walter growls and Javier hisses, “you need to get the fuck out.”

“No,” Walter shakes his head and steps towards you but Javi shuffles in front of him. “Stay out of this Peña.” The younger agent growls. “I know you’re thinking about getting some pussy from her, going for the easy lay, but the only reason I was fucking Sally was because she wasn’t satisfying me.” You choke out a huff and he smirks. “That’s right. You’re like a cold fucking fish in bed and I got tired of it.”

Javier grabs Walter’s collar, pulling him close. “You need to shut your fucking mouth.” He growls and Walter scoffs, “I’m not gonna put up with bad sex just to deal with a fucking bastard kid.” Walter chuckles and Javier pulls his fist back to punch Walter in the face. “That’s my goddamn kid you’re talking about.” He reveals as Walter stumbles back.

You gape in horror and arousal as Javi defends you and your son. If you didn’t know that you made the right decision to leave Walter, you know now. Calling your son a bastard has you seething. Walter shakes his head and sneers as he glances between you and Javi. “Colombia?” He remembers when you told him you had been to the country when you were younger, before you had Diego. “Fuck, Peña, you really did fuck anything, didn’t you?” He spits on the floor and shakes his head before tossing his hands up. “Fucking have her. You can deal with the little bastard and his worthless mother.”

The urge to punch him again is strong but Javier withholds it and grabs Walter by the shirt, pushing him towards the open door. “Get the fuck out. Now. Before I fucking kill you.” He warns and Walter scoffs but steps outside. He doesn’t argue as he leaves Javier’s apartment. Javier’s chest heaves after the door closes and he turns to look at you, “are you okay?”

Your chin trembles and you close your eyes to keep from crying. You can’t speak or you’re going to break down. Everything was nothing more than a shame. Some kind of sick game to Walter. Take you and your son out of a bad situation and make you the little housewife who would look the other way while he did whatever he wanted. It makes you sick.

Tears well in your eyes and Javier wastes no time in gathering you into his arms, his head resting on top of yours and he rubs your back, “it’s okay. I’m sorry. He was an asshole.” He murmurs, wanting you to know he’s sympathetic to your situation.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it.” You murmur softly. “I was trying to- I wanted a better life for our son. I wasn’t- I didn’t see what Walter was really like.” You babble as you cling to Javi.

Javier rubs your back as you murmur until you shock him by tilting your head to press your lips to his. He pulls back immediately, knowing you aren’t in the emotional state to make a sound decision. “Baby, I - not like this.” He says, cupping your cheek, “not because that asshole was a prick to you.”

You pull away, horrified by the emotional reaction and how you’ve been rejected. “I- sure. Yeah.” You swallow harshly and feel like you’re going to throw up. “I get it. It’s- I should just go to bed.” You turn around to pick up the glass and rush towards the spare room you will share with Diego. Embarrassed and kicking yourself for thinking that you could forget about everything in Javi’s arms. He doesn’t want you, why would he? The only reason he is doing any of this is for Diego, not you.

Javier lets you go, watching you as you head into the spare room and he rubs his cheek, knowing he has hurt your feelings but he can’t take advantage, he can’t touch you or kiss you without knowing that you want him, love him as much as he loves you.

Retreating to the bedroom with Diego is a little bit like licking your wounds, but you use the bathroom right across the hall to wash your face and brush your teeth. Knowing that you will spend countless hours in bed staring at the ceiling. Wondering what is wrong with you. Javi had a chance to have you years ago and he let you go, why would he want a worse version of the one he had years ago? You sigh as you slip under the sheets and cut off the lamp. Your life is completely changed and you need to figure out a place to live quickly. To stand on your own two feet again.

Javier rubs his eyes as he prepares the coffee pot. He had been awake all night staring at the ceiling and wondering how the hell he’s going to tell you he loves you without you thinking he’s taking advantage of you after you’ve left Walter. He sighs and walks over to the fridge, opening it, and he wishes he had eggs or anything for breakfast but his breakfast usually consists of a cigarette and a cup of coffee. He will take you and Diego to that diner down the street.

Your son is still sleeping, sprawled in the bed and completely content as you slip out of it. Hearing movement from the main area tells you that Javi is awake and you quickly dress. You don’t think that he wants you walking around his apartment in your tank top and shorts, and it helps add a layer of armor to your tattered emotions. You need to ask him if he can watch Diego while you look for a place to live.

Javier turns as you walk into the kitchen and he offers you a soft smile, “morning, hermosa. You want a coffee? I- I’d offer breakfast but I don’t have any food. I thought we could go to the diner down the street. Diego can get pancakes.” Javier smiles, feeling hopeful and happy to have his son under his roof.

“Thanks.” You need coffee, so you gratefully accept a cup. “I’m going to find a place as quickly as possible.” You promise as he opens a cabinet and gets out a mug. “Get out of your hair. I know you didn’t expect to have me and Diego here. Diego, sure, but not the baby momma.” You huff a sarcastic chuckle at your own attempt at a joke and sigh. “I was thinking of looking today? If you wouldn’t mind watching D?”

Javier frowns, “you - you don’t have to leave so soon. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want, baby. I didn’t expect to have you here because you were with Walter but I want you here, you and Diego. You don’t have to look today. Let’s go have breakfast.” Javier insists, feeling anxious about you leaving so soon.

You sigh softly. “It’s not a good idea.” You admit quietly. “I’ve been….I had been thinking about how to move out of Walter’s anyway, because I realized that I didn’t feel like I should for him.” You look away from him, not wanting to see the rejection on his face. “I never actually got over the man who is the love of my life, and if I stay, you’ll just be annoyed.”

Javier frowns, wondering who you had met that was the love of your life. It wasn’t Walter and it’s clearly not him. “I- you must - I’m sorry. I hope you find that man and tell him how you feel. All I want is for you to be happy.” He promises, “even if that means you leaving here.”

You chuckle, the sound slightly harsh against your ears. “It’s my fault.” You admit quietly with a small shrug. As if it was nothing important. “We had fun, I knew it was only ever going to be fun because he told me that.” You glance back over at him. “He put me on a plane, and I left my heart behind, but he gave me the best gift imaginable.”

Javier stares at you in shock, putting two and two together, and he can’t help himself. He cups your cheeks and surges forward to press his lips to yours. His heart pounding in his chest as he kisses you to show you how he feels about you.

You close your eyes. The feeling of him kissing you makes you sigh happily. Years of love for him aching in your heart and you know that even if Walter hadn’t been a cheating bastard, you would have had to break up with him. Now, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer.

You kiss him back and his heart feels like it's about to burst. He sighs and pulls back, nudging his nose against yours as he takes the moment in. "I love you, hermosa." He murmurs, wanting you to know how he feels. "I did then. I was too scared to say it because you had to leave but seeing you again, it all came back to me. I love you." He declares again, kissing your forehead.

“I love you too.” You promise. “I just don’t want you to say that because of Diego.” You murmur. “I know I was hesitant in the beginning, but you love your son and he adores you.”

He shakes his head, caressing your cheeks, "not going to say it because of Diego. It's because of you. I love you, have for so many fucking years. I love you." He repeats, "I love Diego. I want you and our son. I want our family."

Closing your eyes, you lean into Javi and smile. Resting your forehead against his chest and huff out a laugh. “I suppose we should be grateful to Walter, for bringing us back together.”

Javier snorts, “yeah. Exactly. Asshole. I- I didn’t like him when I met him at work.” He confesses, rubbing his hands along your back after he lets go of your cheeks. “Let’s go get breakfast. I don’t want to make you stay here if you want to go slow but you are welcome to stay. I want you to stay.”

You huff and shrug. “I’m technically homeless right now.” You remind him. “I never want you to feel like I’m just using you though.”

Javier shakes his head, “never. Never think that. I just want you and our son with me. I want you. I want to protect you and our child.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss you again, “I love you.” He still can’t believe you feel the same way.

“I love you too.” You groan, hating how you have been so stupid. You should have immediately left Walter after you realized you had feelings for Javi and you would have already had a screening to make sure you were safe. “Fuck, I need to make a doctor’s appointment.”

Javi chuckles quietly, hearing your frustrations and he nods. “That’s okay. We can wait.” He promises as you hear Diego cry out from the spare room, obviously scared because of waking up in a strange place.

You rush back to the bedroom and quickly bundle him into your arms. “It’s okay, baby.” You reassure him. “We spent the night at daddy’s house, remember?” He had been tired when you moved him, so you don’t expect him to remember that. “Do you want to get dressed and go to breakfast?”

“Yeah. Mommy. I- we are in daddy’s house?” Diego asks, blinking rapidly and you nod, brushing his hair back, “yeah. We are.” Javier stands in the doorway, offering his son a smile. “Hey, mijo.” He greets the little boy who grins and scrambles out of bed to hug his father.

You smile as you watch Javi pick up Diego and hug him back just as fiercely. Over the last few weeks, the two of them have formed a bond that is unbreakable and you know that being here is the right choice. Walter didn’t love your son, apparently he didn’t even like him, but Javi loves Diego with everything he has. “I’ll get your clothes.” You tell him, standing up and moving over to your bags.

****

The three of you went for breakfast that day and Javier has never felt so complete. You stayed in bed with Diego for the last week since you wanted to get tested before anything happened between you and Javier was happy with that, he wanted to do this right so he went and got his own test done. He got the results today so he will tell you after Diego is in bed. He loves you so much and having you in his home this past week has made him realize that this was his purpose. Not chasing drug lords. His family is his purpose. Diego yawns as you watch TV with him and you smile, “time for bed, baby.” Diego doesn’t argue and you guide him into the spare room that is now his. “I’ll get him some water.” Javier says while you get Diego into bed and you are telling him goodnight when Javi returns with the glass of water and he sets it down on the nightstand. “Night, mijo.” Javier murmurs, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

You are so proud when Diego smiles sleepily at his father. “Night daddy.” He decided he liked ‘daddy’ over ‘papa’ and neither you or Javi have an issue with that. His night light is on and you smile as Javi tucks the cover up higher and walks back to the door so you can pull it closed. “He’s so happy to see you everyday.” You tell Javi as you both walk to the living room. “This was the right choice. You’ve both missed out on so much time together.”

Javier smiles, “I know. I want to make it up to you and him. I don’t want to miss another moment with our son.” He says and makes his way over to the sofa. The test results from his doctor on the coffee table. “I got my test results today. I’m clean. I don’t want to rush you but I wanted you to know I’m clean when you’re ready because I want to show you how I feel about you.”

You smirk at the paper as you pick it up. “I got a call from my doctor today.” You admit. “I’m clean. He should be emailing my results if you want to see.” You don’t want to wait anymore, but this needs to be a decision you make together. “And my birth control is expired, but I didn’t re-do it. I wanted to talk to you about the options first.” You don’t think Javi wants more kids, but your last birth control failed so you want him to be comfortable with what you choose.

Javier doesn’t need to see your results. He trusts you implicitly. “What do you want?” Javier asks you, reaching for your hands as you come to sit down beside him after he sets the paper down on the table. “I- I have condoms. I think I want us to enjoy being together before we make the decision to have another kid. And I’d like to buy a house. Create our space together. A room for Diego. Another room for a new baby.” He declares what he wants, “and I’d like to marry you before we have another.”

Your eyes widen when you hear him say he wants to marry you and have another baby. “I want you. You promise, pulling his hand up to kiss the back of it. “I’ve always wanted you. Even if you don’t want more kids or marriage or anything. I just want you. I love you. I love Diego. I want us to be a family.”

Javier grins, surging forward to press his lips to yours. He wants to show you how he feels. He drags you into his lap, his hands immediately finding your ass and he groans when you grind down onto him and he starts to harden beneath you. He’s jerked off to thoughts of you way too many times to count so he’s eager to touch you again.

“Javi.” You moan at the feel of his hands on your skin. You’ve dreamed of it for so long. Your fingers sink into his hair and all your inhibitions fade away. Walter’s comments about being a cold fish had hurt, but you’ve realized over the last few weeks that it was because you have never felt as free and comfortable with him as you do Javi.

Javier slides his tongue into your mouth and he playfully smacks your ass as you grind down onto him again. “Baby, baby.” He murmurs, kissing along your jaw after a moment. “Let me take you to bed.”

“Fuck, I want that.” You whine softly. “Javi- I need you. I’ve been so lonely. And no one was ever as good as you.” You murmur quietly. You’ve only had two lovers since coming back from Colombia, you had put Diego first, but they’ve not been as good as he is.

He grabs the back of your thighs, grunting as he shifts to stand up and he chuckles as he stumbles and turns fast to drop you onto the sofa. “I’m getting too fucking old to pick you up.” He confesses, “come on baby.” He holds his hand out to you. “Walk to my room with me?”

You huff in amusement and take his hand. “Old man.” You tease as you squeeze his hand. “Maybe you can’t fuck me like I remember.”

Javier scoffs, “never said I couldn’t fuck.” He assures you, escorting you into his bedroom and once you’re inside, he grabs your waist to pull you close, his lips finding yours once more.

You lean into the kiss, giving over to the feelings that have been there from the very beginning and denied while you were with Walter. Then tempered by the need to make sure that you both were safe. Now you are able to take what you want and touch him again.

His hands find the bottom of your shirt, parting from your lips as he lifts it over your head and he tosses it to the floor as he slides his hands up to your back to unclip your bra. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss your neck.

You hum and your hands drift down to the buttons on the shirt. “I’ve missed you so much.” You grind your hips down and whimper quietly when he throbs against you. “So fucking much.”

He groans, pulling the straps of your bra down your arms. He tosses it on the floor and his hands immediately cup your tits, squeezing them. “I’ve missed these.” He groans, bending down to take your nipple into his mouth.

“Javi!” You gasp his name and cup his head on your chest as he suckles harshly. “Fuck, oh god, I’ve always loved that mouth of yours on me. No one ever made me feel like you do.”

He loves hearing you say that and he bites on your nipple, soothing it with his tongue and he groans as you tangle your fingers in his hair. He loves the way you moan when he switches to the other breast and he squeezes your breast.

Walter’s comments about how boring you are had hit a nerve and you guess you had become boring. You don’t want Javi to think that as well and push him away to slide down to your knees and reach for his belt buckle.

Javier watches you, his eyelashes fluttering as he lets you touch him how you want. He’s anxious to see you naked and see how you’ve changed. His stomach isn’t as slim as it used to be. “Fuck, baby.” He murmurs, lifting his hips when you pull his belt out of his pants.

“You’ve missed this, haven’t you?” You tease, popping the button of his jeans open and dragging the zipper down. It’s surprising to see him actually wearing underwear and you smirk as he drags his hips up again so you can pull everything down. Freeing his cock to slap against your stomach. “That cock.” You moan, mouth watering as you wrap your fingers around his girth. “Fuck, I’ve dreamed about sucking you off again.” You admit before you duck your head down and take him into your mouth.

“Mierda, tu boca es mi cielo.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek and he closes his eyes for a second before he opens them to watch you take his cock deeper. “Jesus Christ.” He hisses, “I thought about this a shit ton after you left. Jerked off so many times thinking about you.” He confesses, lost in the pleasure.

Your cunt flutters around nothing, stretching your lips around him and loving the way that he pushes against the back of your throat. Taking him deep had been your utter obsession and you’ve not had a lot of practice since him but you want this. You’re getting wetter by the second and you let some of your spit slide down the shaft so you can twist your fingers around the base.

“Baby. I don’t - hermosa. I don’t want to cum yet.” He warns you, “been a while since I’ve done anything but jerk off and I want to be inside you when I cum.” He warns you, moaning when you take him deeper but you choke and he caresses your cheek. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

You hum, smirking slightly as you remember him saying that over six years ago, in that little hotel room in Colombia. You pull off of him and press a kiss to the tip. “You want to be inside me, baby?” You coo, confident in his lust but you are a little worried that you might not live up to his memory.

He nods, reaching for you to pull you into his lap. He doesn’t want to hurt you so he shifts to lay you down in the bed, reaching for your leggings to pull them down your legs along with your panties. When you’re naked beneath him, he wastes no time sliding his hand along your thigh so he can push his fingers between your folds to rub your clit.

You whine, your body arching to his touch and gasping out his name. “Javi!” Your hand slides down his side and you try to touch him as much as you can. “I want- I thought you wanted to be inside me?”

“Not yet. Gotta stretch you out, baby.” He murmurs, sliding his hand back to push two thick digits inside of you. “So goddamn tight and wet.” He groans, leaning in to kiss along your neck while he starts to move his fingers inside of you.

You shudder in pleasure, shifting your hips to roll up to meet his hand. You had forgotten what it was like with Javi. He had always paid close attention to make sure you were ready for him. Your fingers grip his ass and you close your eyes. “Oh god. That feels so good.”

He loves the way you react as he pumps his fingers into your pussy, loving the way you squelch around his fingers. He wants you to cum for him before he fucks you. “Jesus, you’re so fucking gorgeous baby.” He murmurs, his cock aching for you.

His praises have always been so raw and earnest. It makes you clench down on his fingers and hiss his name in pleasure. The slick pressure of his fingers working you open is wonderful, quickly working you up until you are so close to cumming.

Javier loves it when you clamp down on his digits, soaking them and he scissors his fingers to make sure you are ready to take him. When you whine, he withdraws his fingers and looks at you, loving the hazy look in your eyes as you relax beneath him. “You ready for me baby?” He asks, caressing your side with wet fingers until he’s squeezing your tit.

“Yes.” You pant breathlessly. “I’ve been ready for six years. I’ve missed you, missed our connection.” It had always been more than sex, the easy relationship had been so freeing for you. The idealized goal that no matter what, Walter could have never lived up to. “Fuck me, Javi.”

He nods, leaning in to kiss you softly before he shifts to grab a condom from the nightstand. He shoves his pants and briefs down after he stands up, his cock throbbing as he looks at you on his bed. “So fucking gorgeous.” He murmurs, ripping the packet open so he can roll the condom down his cock. “You ready for me?” He asks, shifting to kneel on the bed and he runs his hands along the length of your legs.

“Yes.” You moan, spreading your legs wider in anticipation. You’re eager to feel him again, wanting the drag is his cock scraping your walls as you gasp his name. “You look so good hovering over me.” Your hand curls behind his neck and you urge him forward to kiss you. “I love you.”

“Te amo.” He murmurs, shifting onto his forearms and he reaches between you to grip his cock, shuffling closer so he can position his cock at your entrance, pushing into you with a groan and he turns his head to kiss you deeper.

It’s probably the best feeling in the entire world. You are stretched out by him, broken open as he pushes deep. Feeling so full that you moan into his mouth and lock your legs around his waist. Both of you panting at the overwhelming moment as he is buried to the hilt inside you.

He rests his forehead against yours, watching you for several moments, and he sighs, nudging your nose while he lets you adjust to him. “I’ve missed this so much. Thought about it way too many times. I fucking love you.” He declares breathlessly and grabs your hip to lift your thigh higher before he starts to rock inside of you.

It’s not nearly as frantic as the first time you had sex. There’s more of a hunger in the pace of his thrusts that has him pushing deeper and waiting before pulling his hips back. As if he hates leaving your body for even a few moments. You love it, head tilting back, you cry out when he hits that sweet spot, nails biting into his skin as he wrecks you for anyone else once again.

He loves the way you feel around him, beneath him, it’s more than he can handle but he inhales deeply and slows down a little more so he doesn’t finish too soon. He hasn’t had sex for a while and it’s you, the woman he loves beneath him. He rocks into you, swiveling his hips to grind deep, and he loves the way you moan his name.

You caress his back, urging him on with your own hips moving. Meeting his deep thrusts and as you kiss along his jaw. You’re complete. You and Javi together, your son safe and happy as he sleeps in his new room. It’s all you want and what you dreamed about when you were lonely during those hard years where you struggled. “Te amo.” You whimper, closing your eyes and sighing happily.

Javier needs you to cum, his hand snaking between you to rub your clit and he kisses along your neck, urging you to fall apart for him. “Cum for me baby.” He orders, biting down on your neck and he rubs your bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, Javi!” You whine his name, your body shutters at the simple, yet effective touch and you can feel your body start to tense. “I’m going cum baby, fuck!” It takes another half dozen swipes of his thumb and three more deep pumps of his cock before you are stiffening underneath him, crying out his name again as you come apart.

“Mierda.” He hisses as you clamp down on his cock. You’re so fucking beautiful and he loves it. Loves every day second of the way you squeeze his cock. He works you through it until you’re pushing his hand away and he groans as he rocks a little faster and harder into you. “I’m gonna cum.” He warns you, burying his face in your neck.

“Do it.” You whimper, wishing you had your birth control figured out so you could feel him inside you again. You understand, the risk is too much right now, but you always loved the feeling of him filling you up. “Cum for me baby.”

He groans as his thrusts stutter, pushing deep until he’s filling the condom with hot cum and your name is a groan on his lips. “Fuckkk.” He pants, closing his eyes as he lets the euphoria wash over him. His heart pounding in his chest while his cock twitches inside you.

You love the way the collapses on top of you. Pressed down into the bed by his body, you pant and start to slowly caress his back. “Fuck, I love you.” You murmur quietly. “I never should have left Colombia.”

He shakes his head, "you made the right choice. It was a shit show down there. I always knew you'd be walking onto the plane. I would've never let you stay there." He murmurs, shifting to pull out of you and he grips the condom, moving fast to tie it off and toss it onto the nightstand so he can curl around you. "I loved you then and I love you now. That never changed. We are here and I plan to make up for every second we were apart." He smiles, kissing your shoulder.

“Diego will hold you to that.” You joke, curling into his embrace even more. “He loves having his daddy with him and you love him too. I can tell. For a man who never wanted a family, you are really good at it.”

Javier smiles, kissing your hair, "I didn't live a life that was appropriate for a family. I have stability now and I am ready for this, for you, for Diego. I am all in." He promises you and closes his eyes, "I meant what I said. I want to marry you. Have more kids."

“I want that too.” You murmur softly. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to experience Diego as a baby.” You apologize, shifting to turn to face him. Reaching up, you caress his cheek. “I want you with me for the rest of our lives, Javi. I love you. I loved you in Colombia and that’s never gone away.”

Javier hums, reaching for your hand to kiss the back of it, “we have the rest of our lives.” He murmurs and you kiss his cheek. He is so happy right now. He has you and Diego and he will take you both to meet his Pa and get his mother’s engagement ring to ask you to marry him. He’s ready to enjoy the rest of his life with his family. All thanks to meeting you in that bar and the strip of photos still in his wallet from the photo booth.

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña smut #javier peña narcos #javier peña imagine #javier pena fanfiction

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staylovesmiley · 25 days ago

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Give Me Your TMI~ Chapter 9

₊˚⊹ᰔ Pairing; Yang Jeongin x Fem!reader, Stray kids x Fem!reader

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; In a world where Humans and Hybrids should be living as equals, Hybrids are still viewed as being closer to their animalistic side than their humanistic. Deep in the woods lives a band of misfit hybrids who reject these societal views and keep to themselves, choosing to live away from humans. What happens when the youngest of this rogue group meets a lost Human girl, befriending her after an incident where he must rely on her for help?

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; hybrid!au, female!reader, angst, mild violence, mentions of sexual harassment/assault and discrimination, she/her pronouns used for reader, this is very loosely based off the overall themes/tones of the manga and anime fruits basket~

“Are you…going to be okay?” Jeongin asked softly, hand reaching out towards you to gently brush your hair back from your face where you lay facing him. The moonlight filtered in through the thin gap of the curtains casting a soft glow on his face that made him look almost angelic. You smiled softly, nodding as you leaned into his touch when he hand cupped your still slightly bruised cheek where Jason had struck you earlier. “Will you?”

The fox took a deep breath, thinking for a moment before responding. “I don’t…really know yet- I think I’m still in shock that I actually-“ He couldn’t bring himself to say it, as if not speaking the words would make them any less true. You both had killed someone that night.

It was still early in the morning, the sun had yet to rise and Chan still lay asleep behind you with his chest pressed against your back firmly in a way that comforted you with the physical contact of his bare skin against your own. “I know…it will be a while before things feel normal again, I’m sure.” You tried to reassure the hybrid, turning your head to press a kiss against his palm.

The two of you lay in silence for a while, just watching over each other before he spoke up again. “I-I’m afraid..” Jeongin’s voice trembled slightly and in the dim light you swore you could see tears brimming his eyes. Quickly, you moved closer to him as you wrapped your arms around him protectively. “Afraid of what, innie?” You could hear his racing heartbeat, his scent souring lightly as he hid his face in the crook of your neck before mumbling against your skin. “That you will think less of me because of what I did-“

A deep frown settled on your face as your hold on him tightened. “Jeongin I could never think less of you, especially not for that. It would be hypocritical of me…” He shook his head, the tips of his fluffy ears tickling you lightly. “But it was so- so savage…I was like a monster-“ You let out a huff, one hand coming to comb through his hair gently. “Innie you were protecting us, you saved Hyunjin- there is no telling what Jason would have done if you hadn’t stopped him.”

The fox let out a quiet whimper and attempted to burrow closer to you. “But I didn’t have to kill him- especially not like that.” You sighed, placing a kiss to the top of his head before responding. “And I didn’t have to kill my mother…but it happened. It’s done now- there isn’t anything we can do to change it or bring them back….its- it’s for the best that we try to move past it as best we can. The fact that you feel guilty means that you aren’t a monster, you were just trying to keep us safe.”

Jeongin sighed, knowing that you were right but he couldn’t shake the unease he felt every time he pictured the man you had married lying bloody and marred in the snow. “I was so angry…I could feel he had hurt you and when I saw him attacking Jinnie I just- I couldn’t stop myself and that scares me.” You nodded in understanding, giving him a gentle squeeze before pecking his lips softly. “I know- but you are not a monster….if anyone is a monster it was him.”

You laid there for a while longer in a comforting embrace, silently trying to cope with the weight of your actions when a soft knock sounded at the door before it opened to reveal a very tired looking Minho. “Guys…I know it’s early but- we all need to talk.”

You both sit up slowly, you holding the blanket up against your chest while Jeongin allows the fabric to fall and pool around his waist. “I’ll leave waking the beast to you both.” The cat teases, clearly trying to lighten the mood before backing out of the room. “If you wake him up I’ll go get us some clean clothes from our room-“ The fox states as he stretches before getting up from the bed. You nod silently as you watch him leave you alone with Chan still sleeping peacefully beside you.

Your hand comes to touch gently where the wolf hybrid had bit you earlier in the night and you blush lightly, turning to watch him sleep for a moment longer before gently nudging his shoulder.

“Chan- Channie it’s time to get up.” You keep your voice soft, just above a whisper as you lean down to place a kiss behind his ear. The hybrid groans, wrapping his arms around your waist where you sit on the bed and his face nuzzles against your hip before leaving gentle kisses at your exposed skin there. Your flush deepens as you giggle nervously and nudge at him once again. “Come on, Chan…need you to wake up now.” He sighs, shifting a bit before his eyes open and he’s blinking up at you. “I know- just….wanted to stay here with you a bit longer.” A soft smile finds your face as you lean down to kiss his cheek. “You know if you ever want me to stay with you like this again you just have to ask…” Your words cause him to blush furiously and bury his face in his pillow. How could you be so gentle with him, so kind? It still didn’t feel real to him and now he could feel your heart and soul tugging at his own in a way that made him dizzy and sated at the same time.

Jeongin returned shortly after, clothed once again, with a neatly folded outfit for you as well. He held the clothes out to you and you took them with a soft thank you before standing from the bed to get dressed to face the consequences of your actions. Chan rose as well, dressing in a pair of loose sweat pants and a long sleeved tee before ushering both of you out and into the dining room where everyone was sat waiting for you to join.

Your eyes flitted over to the kitchen where what must have only been a few hours ago your mother lay lifeless in a growing puddle of her own blood and you flinched, quickly closing your eyes tightly to rid yourself of the image when you felt hands gently take hold of each of yours and give you a reassuring squeeze.

When you opened your eyes again you saw Chan and Jeongin at either side of you, pulling you to sit down at the table sandwiched between them protectively. “Okay, I’m not going to dance around the issue here- we need to figure out what to do with the carnage we have on our hands.” Minho said bluntly, his tail flicking anxiously behind him though his deadpan expression tried to hide how on edge he was feeling. Felix who was sat to his left hit his shoulder lightly with a disapproving grunt but the older cat shrugged, knowing that no matter how they tried to sugar coat it they had a double homicide currently weighing over them and something had to be done about it.

You winced a bit at his words but nodded, thinking for a moment before speaking up. “I’ll write a letter to my sister Esther…I’ll-“ You think for a bit, brows furrowed as you concentrate on a good story for them to believe. “Jason left me and was having an affair with Mama- that they ran away together. I can add some other stuff too…make it seem like a letter to update her on my life, something normal- we were always so close so it wouldn’t seem strange for me to want to share stuff like that with her.”

Minho thinks for a second, letting your words settle in his mind before nodding. “That’ll be good. Changbin, Chan- gonna need your help setting a big fire pit in the back…we have to get rid of them where there isn’t gonna be identifiable traces.” The pair grimace a bit at the mental image of what they are about to do but they nod and head for the door, Chan giving the top of your head a kiss on his way out and then you are left sitting there feeling like something is missing.

Jeongin seems to feel your concern, hand coming to squeeze your thigh to gather your attention. You look up to meet his eyes and his gaze softens instantly. “What’s going on in your head, pretty?” He whispers, his forehead resting against your own. “I just- feel like we are forgetting something important….” You frown, closing your eyes as you think harder and then your eyes shoot open wide. “His car- we have to find it and get rid of it….um- the river! Do you….do you think you could sniff it out and help me?” The fox huffs a bit before giving you a teasing smile. “Shocked you didn’t ask Minnie, he’s the scent hound after all.” The beagle hybrid pouts at the younger’s words, turning away to hide behind Felix’s shoulder and you give him a soft smile in hopes to make yourself seem less scary before rising from your seat. “Come on, Innie…we should try and get this done before it’s too light out. I know that there isn’t anyone in the area but it’s better to be safe.”

It was done.

The bodies of your mother and husband burned to ashes by the time the evening was washing over the sky and painting it a pale, muted shade of blue. The car they had driven to your once peaceful little cabin was sunk to the bottom of the river by late afternoon.

Now, you sit in your room on the bed, knees pulled to your chest and eyes closed as you focus on breathing in slow and deep through your nose before exhaling slowly through your nose as you couldn’t seem to shake the memory of the knife sinking into your mother’s stomach, her words still echoing in your mind though you tried to expel them.

You had told Jeongin you wanted some time to yourself, and although you could feel his disappointment and worry wash over you through your shared bond he had respected your wishes and left to curl up in Felix’s bed as the cat hybrid held him close for comfort.

As you were beginning to feel like the room was closing in on you and your breathing became less of a rhythm and more uneven you heard a knock at the door that snapped you out of your thoughts and back to the present. Before you could answer the door was pushed open to reveal Hyunjin, the ferret hybrids beautiful face littered with bruises and small scrapes and his head hung in a sheepish manner as he carefully approached you. “P-Pretty….’m sorry to bother you but I need your help-“ His voice sounded so small, hesitant and you softened at the sound. “Oh Jinnie…come here?” You motioned for the hybrid to come closer and once he was sat on the bed you immediately crawled to embrace him. Hyunjin melted against you, head resting atop yours as you snuggled into his side while being mindful of his bruised ribs and stomach.

“What does my angel need help with, hm?” You asked, voice gentle as you rubbed soothing circles into his back with careful hands. “Can you….would you help me cut my hair?”

Oh- his request shocked you. Everyone was well aware of how much the ferret adored having his long dark hair played with, allowing anyone who was willing to card their hands through it as he drifted off into a peaceful nap or letting you and Felix weave pretty braids into it to keep the hair from sticking to his neck when working out in the garden due to the hot sun beating down on him despite the growing chill in the air. “You want me to cut your hair, baby? Are you sure?” You gently ran your fingers through his silky locks and he nodded, a little sniffle coming from him and causing you to pull away enough to catch the few tears that dropped from where they had rolled down his cheeks and hit his lap leaving little dark spots in their wake.

“Okay, if that’s what you want I can do that for you.” You smiled softly, assuring him that this was not a burden for him to ask the favor and you slowly got off the bed and took his hand into yours to lead him out of the room.

Now, the ferret hybrid sat calmly on the closed seat of the toilet as you stood between his parted legs. You ran your fingers through his hair a couple of times before bringing the scissors in your hand up to carefully cut away his dark locks. Piece by piece the fell silently to the floor by your feet, the sensation tickling softly as you continued and the slowly piling hair grew around you. Once you got to a short enough length, you pulled out the clippers you had bought not to long ago from the drug store in town, the original purpose having been to trim the back of Jisung’s hair as he had been complaining about how long it was getting and not liking the feeling of it tickling his neck and behind his ears. Now, they were used to carefully buzz away the ferrets mane as he had requested, being very cautious not to harm his soft little ears or nick the back of his slender neck or ears.

The moment was silent, soft, as he sat still for you and you hummed softly while you worked. You were reminded of a memory from your childhood, giving your baby brothers their first haircuts as they squirmed and wriggled around still trying to play while you attempted to cut their soft baby curls into a style that wasn’t too garish for the toddlers.

Once the task was finished you turned and sat the clipper down at the edge of the sink, moving to the claw footed tub to turn the water on so you could help Hyunjin wash what fine hairs were now clinging to his skin and the tightly cropped hair on his head. When the tub was full you helped him undress, letting him lower himself into the water carefully with your assistance. Nudity was not foreign to you in this family, the hybrids having to shift back into their human forms completely bare meaning you had seen all of them nude at least once in the months you had lived with them. Still, this moment felt so soft and intimate it caused your heart to flutter and your cheeks to flush as you gently began washing the hybrid’s bruised body.

“I never got to thank you…for protecting me.” You said after sitting in silence for what felt like an eternity, gently massaging his now fuzzy head with a small amount of shampoo as Hyunjin practically purred at the touch. “It’s what you do for the people you love.” He said, as if it was the most simple thing like brushing your teeth or getting dressed in the morning. “You love me?” Was what you responded with, genuine surprise in your voice as you used the cup kept by the tub to rinse his hair and with one hand block any suds from getting into his tightly shut eyes. He nodded once you were done, turning to give you a shy smile. “We all do, though some of us are too shy to admit it yet…you are precious to us, our pretty. I don’t doubt at all that any of us would have done what I did, and I know you would do the same for us.”

His words resonated deeply with you, something to finally take your mind off of everything from the day previous.

You were still thinking about it when Chan came to you where you were curled up on the couch after dinner and sat down only to pull you up and into his lap before burying his face in the side of your neck where his bite was slowly healing under the bandages you had applied. “Channie? You feeling okay?” You asked, sudden concern washing over you although you couldn’t feel any distress coming from the wolf hybrid. His ears tickled your cheek where they twitched slightly at the sound of your voice. “I’m okay, but I could feel you earlier. You’re hurting.” You let out a soft sigh, not having the energy to deny it when you knew he was right. “I’ll be hurting for a while, probably…Chan you-“ Hesitating for a moment, you wondered if this question would be pushing too far despite how close you had become. “When you used to fight…did you ever have to kill anyone?” Your voice was quiet, just loud enough that his enhanced hearing could pick up the sound and he froze, arms tight around you before relaxing again. “Yes, I did…” You let out a little whimper, turning to hide your face in his soft curls as tears welled in your eyes. “It’s so awful…I’m sorry you had to go through those feelings alone.” The wolf couldn’t help but chuckle, placing a few soft kisses against your neck before pulling away to cup your face in his hands. “Oh pretty…you are too kind for this world. Going through everything you just did and you are more worried about what I had to endure in my past than how you are feeling in your present.” A light kiss was placed on your lips, more of a peck really, and you couldn’t help but preen at the attention from the oldest.

As you still sat cuddled up with the wolf hybrid, Minho entered the room and paused to take in the scene before him with curiosity. He took a few tentative sniffs at the air and realized your scent had once again shifted slightly, just as it had when their youngest had mated you. A smirk curled at his lips and he leaned against the wall with arms crossed over his chest. “Well what do we have here, hm?” He called out to the both of you causing you to look at where the cat began sauntering over to take a seat on the hearth of the fireplace. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you somehow mated with our pretty.” Minho teased, not meaning much behind his words but at the shocked expression on both of your faces he faltered. “Wait- you…you didn’t- you couldn’t, well shouldn’t-“

Confusion was clear in your eyes as you looked between the bewildered Minho and sheepish Chan. “What do you mean shouldn’t? Is that- Innie didn’t seem to be bothered that Chan mated me too…” You assumed the second oldest was inferring that your first mate would be upset by your bond with Chan, when that wasn’t what was causing his jaw to drop in shock as he rose from his seat to pull you up from the wolf’s lap and examine you closely.

Minho gasped, peeling back the bandage at your neck carefully to inspect the bite healing there. “No way…and it worked? You’re bonded?” He asked Chan, looking over you and to where the older sat squirming in his seat under the interrogation from the cat hybrid’s sharp eyes. “Y-Yeah…I wasn’t expecting it- I just bit her out of instinct but I didn’t think it would actually stick.” Chan confessed, rubbing at the back of his neck as you looked between the both of them. “What is going on? What do you mean you didn’t expect it to stick?” You frowned, worry creeping into your mind at the thought that Chan hadn’t intended or wanted to mate with you. As if sensing your unease, because he quite literally could, the wolf hybrid was up and wrapping himself around you instantly as he peppered sweet kisses to your head and face. “Pretty I didn’t mean it like that…just- hybrids aren’t typically able to mate more than one person. The fact that both Jeongin and I bonded to you is- it’s not common, unheard of really…” You frowned a bit in your confused state, looking up into Chan’s eyes before turning to Minho as if asking him to confirm the oldest’s words.

The two oldest hybrids shared a look before sitting you back down on the couch and taking a seat on either side of you to try and explain how hybrid mating worked. “So, just like most canines, canine hybrids form life long bonds with one another….but only in pairs. You being able to form a mating bond with both Chan and Innie is not something we would have thought possible.” Minho said carefully, watching your face to make sure you understood him clearly. Chan nodded, speaking up after a moment to let the information sink in. “The only reason I can think of that my bond stuck after you were already mated to Jeongin is…you aren’t a hybrid.” You blinked at him, taking it all in before nodding slowly. “So does that mean any of you could mate me too? Or do you think it stops at just two…?” Minho snorted as he tried to contain his laughter, hand coming up to cover his face. You pouted at him, worried you had just asked a stupid question when suddenly the cat leaned in close to your face. “Would you like to be mated to more of us?” He teased, a playful smirk at the corner of his mouth and you felt your breath hitch as Chan held back his chuckle from behind you.

“I-I” you stuttered, not sure how to respond as heat rose to your cheeks at the close proximity and attention from the cat hybrid. Minho gave you a sweet smile before pulling back to sit up straight beside you once more. “Unfortunately, I can’t help you test out your hypothesis. Only canine hybrids form mating bonds, cat hybrids are a whole other story.” You exhaled slowly, not realizing you had been holding your breath all that time, swallowing hard before nodding. “I see…so- only Chan and Innie could have mated me.” Chan pressed his chest up against your back, nipping lightly at your jaw before whispering lowly in your ear. “You’re forgetting someone, pretty.” Your eyes widened as you realized he was right, there was one more canine hybrid you had left out and you blushed furiously at the thought of the one member of the little family who had yet to fully let his guard down around you. “Seungmin-“ You said quietly, causing Minho to smirk as he rose from his seat and made his way over to the couch. “Don’t let him know you left him out, our puppy would be so upset. You know, he’s secretly very fond of you.” With that he disappeared to get started on prep for the next morning’s breakfast, leaving you stunned and confused in Chan’s strong embrace.

author’s note; hehe did I scare ya?? (To those of you who didn’t read my last ramble post…I tried to play a little prank-) To make up for the last chapter being so dark and the lil heart attack I seemed to give some of you- I give you some very sweet moments in this chapter~ sorry it’s a bit shorter than normal but if you read into things a bit you’ll see that I’m setting up for what is to come~~~ I hope you all enjoyed! Happy sleuthing and theorizing hehehe

taglist; (pink users I wasn’t able to tag) @coastinglove @estella-novella @chancloud8 @skzswife @motheraiya55 @zofia515 @skybluelixie @breadedloafs @inaribu00 @silly250 @royal-shinigami @thatgirlangelb @bby-boo4u @emmxxsworld @vampkittenb82 @h0rnyp0t @alisonyus @im-sinking-in-mud @ihrtlix @mrs-hwangh @danixiulin @wolfo2027 @kiaralynn3838 @ateez-atiny380 @daceyena @bookswillfindyouaway @blackcatpandora @popcatx0 @corgilover20 @marshmelonie @sassy-snassy @straykidslover2024 @xgridx @y4yayael @dreamerwasfound

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reidsworld · 6 months ago

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Winter’s Constant

Summary: You have always dreaded winter, every year it’s a challenge just to make it through the day. Except this year, things are a bit different with Logan by your side. Based on this request.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Content Warnings: Seasonal Depression

Word Count: 0.6k

Mars speaks… Thank you so much for requesting this, sorry that it is kind of short! I don’t know a lot about depression and seasonal depression so I tried my best to portray it.

Masterlist

Winter was on its way, and you could feel it in your bones. Every year, like clockwork, the first chill in the air sent a shiver down your spine, not just from the cold, but from the dread that settled in your chest. You knew what was coming—what always came with the snow and shorter days. The energy that had you buzzing with life in the summer, the endless side projects, the laughter that could fill a room, all of it would start to fade.

Every year, you told yourself it would be different. You’d try new techniques, new routines, anything to keep the shadows at bay. But each year, the same thing happened. Slowly, like the setting sun, you’d start sleeping more, your projects left half-finished, your once-lively spirit buried under layers of fatigue.

But this year…this year was different. You had Logan.

He noticed the shift before you even said anything. It started with how your hands slowed when working on your latest project, how your once constant, lively chatter—often rivaling Wade’s in volume and enthusiasm—began to taper off. The way your eyes lingered a little longer on the darkening sky. By the time you found yourself sleeping more than you were awake, Logan was already there, silently offering his presence, his warmth.

One day, as you lay curled up in bed, Logan slipped in beside you, his weight comforting as the bed dipped. He didn’t say anything at first, just laid there, letting you know he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Thought it was gonna be different this year,” you mumbled into the pillow, your voice thick with exhaustion. “I told myself…just this once, it wouldn’t be like this.”

Logan’s rough hand found yours under the covers, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “Ain’t your fault, darlin’,” he said softly. “You don’t have to fight it alone this time.”

His words were a balm to the ache inside. You knew Logan wasn’t the type to sugarcoat things or make promises he couldn’t keep, but when he said those words, you believed him. You believed that, even if the winter was dark and the shadows crept in, Logan would be there to light a fire, to keep you warm.

As the days grew colder, Logan stuck to his word. On the mornings when getting out of bed felt impossible, he’d coax you up with a cup of coffee, holding it just out of reach until you groaned and sat up. On the days when all you could do was lay on the couch, he’d sit with you, your head on his lap, as he absentmindedly stroked your hair, his presence alone enough to calm your racing thoughts.

And when you’d have those rare bursts of energy, when you’d suddenly decide you needed to finish that project or bake something, Logan was there, helping you without hesitation, never making you feel like you were too much or too little.

There were still bad days, of course—days when the weight of it all felt crushing, when you questioned whether you’d ever feel like yourself again. But with Logan there, those days didn’t seem as hopeless. He was your constant, your anchor, and though he never tried to fix you, his steady presence reminded you that you didn’t need fixing.

You knew winter would always be hard. But this year, for the first time in as long as you could remember, you felt like you had a chance. You had Logan, and that made all the difference.

Mars speaks… (again) Depression is a serious condition, and it’s okay to ask for help. You don’t have to face it alone. If you are struggling or just need someone to talk to, my dms are always open🫶

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #wade wilson #wolverine x reader #wolverine #marvel #x men #fanfiction #fluff #angst #reidsworld

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fatesundress · 2 years ago

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⭑ observations ii. tom riddle x reader

part i here.

summary. two weeks after your last encounter with tom shatters all of your previous observations, tensions are high, and eventually, something's gotta give. (it's tom. he’s giving head)

tags. smut (so. so much. minors BE GONE TO WHENCE YOU CAME!), fem anatomy + reader is referred to as a woman by someone, fingering, cunnilingus, piv, again implied tall!tom or short!reader (take it however you prefer), jealous tom does not understand friendship but then again neither does reader apparently, a little wine is had, the room of requirement is used shamelessly as a plot device, did i mention smut, i’ve lost my mind etc etc.

note. this is a part two, so go ahead and read the first part and come back if you'd like :) obligatory preface: it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also woahh was not expecting the love on my last post so thank you! i'm still trying to figure this whole acc out so support, questions, (requests? never done those before) anything is appreciated ♡

word count. 6.3k

The next two weeks are agony. You don’t, in fact, stop meeting with Godefrey to study, because you do, in fact, still need a good mark in Ancient Runes and for all his faults he can reach the tallest shelves and he’s a faster writer than you. Also, Tom Riddle is fantastic with his hands but this does not make him God.

You find pureblood politics a bit archaic. You find muggle courting a bit stifling. This leaves very little space for what took place between you and Tom in the middle of a corridor two weeks ago (you can’t stop wincing at how insane that sounds) and very little patience for his utterly original and not-at-all entitled request that you halt your studies with Godefrey. Godefrey doesn’t stick his hands up your skirts while the two of you are studying, doesn’t silence your gasps with a shush and a finger to your mouth, doesn’t — wouldn’t (you’re so imaginative when you want to be) — tell you to keep reading as his thumb draws circles between your legs, tell you to repeat the words that get caught in your throat, tell you how much he likes it when your eyes go dumb and glassy and all you can say is his name. So, really, Tom should have nothing to worry about.

“I swear,” Selwyn says, picking at a plate you don’t think she’s actually eaten anything off with how distracted she is, “he’s looked over here at least three times.”

You don’t dare glance at who you know she’s talking about. “You’re obsessed.”

Pot. Kettle. Whatever.

“Are you sure you didn’t do something to upset him in Potions? Didn’t botch something that might mar his perfect record?”

You flick her forehead and she scowls. “I’m not an idiot, Selwyn. I handle myself just as well in Potions as he does — he wouldn’t —” Wouldn’t have complimented your rapport if that weren’t true, wouldn’t have said you communicate efficiently, make a good pair, probably wouldn’t have — fingered you in the hallway? — yes, that too. Slipped your mind. So easy to forget.

You take a long exhale, and smile impassively at her. “I didn’t botch anything, trust me.”

She finally takes a bite of food. “Maybe I did something…”

And then she’s lost in thought again, eating now, at least, and you shake your head softly as you watch what are likely a million different theories flitting through her head.

“Morning,” Tom says to you when you enter Potions after breakfast, a delicate smile tugging at his lips.

You have, of course, trained for this.

It’s your fifth — sixth? — time sharing a table with him since that night and it is somehow easier by nature and harder by anticipation (of what, you have no idea) every time. The first was terrible. Unsalvageable and without a silver lining. It had taken almost an hour that morning to charm the violent hues of red and purple spanning the column of your throat, and ultimately, the marks were so persistent you’d forgone the glamours and decided to just wear a turtleneck. You’d been fortunate it was completely inconspicuous to wear such a thing in December, but that was about all there’d been to be grateful for. You hadn’t been able to look at Tom all class and his hand had brushed yours once to take a phial from you and you’d flinched so sharply it would have shattered on the floor if he hadn’t caught it. And he’d smiled, like he’s smiling now, a soft, “Careful,” that honestly, for a short moment, made you want him dead.

Now you could speak just fine, look him in the eyes in practised intervals, and almost, impressively, make articulate conversation with him again. Make stupid comments about Slughorn and Lestrange and bear the weight of his grin knowing it was there for you.

His, he’d called you. A very funny thing.

“Morning,” you answer on a smiling sigh, sleepy but jovial all the same.

You deserve applause for this.

“Tired?”

“Mhm — Essays for Ancient Runes are due Friday and it’s been keeping us up all night.”

His eyes flash with something you’ve yet to ascertain. Your research has been put temporarily on hold, scattered and splintered by the revelation that your first observation was, admittedly, a little bit off, and you have no means of figuring out a look like that when you can’t even begin to figure out anything else.

“Has it?” he asks, a tinge less friendly.

“Well,” you say, grinding the lacewing flies, “that’s commonplace, isn’t it? You take all sorts of advanced classes, I’m sure you understand the work it takes.”

“...Hm.”

That’s it. That’s all you get from him.

And if Selwyn’s concern over you botching your work in Potions wasn’t already, obviously dispelled, the glee on Slughorn’s face as he assesses your and Tom’s cauldron should do it.

“Brilliant! Just brilliant!” He claps a hand over Tom’s back, regarding you both with pride so thick it clouds his eyes, like he's drifted into a revery of the future (you and Tom, you expect, are his most prized graduates, making history under his name, proving his immense wisdom) before he appears to return to Earth. “Ten points between the two of you, hm? Very, very good — though, of course, no surprises there!”

He chuckles to himself as he evaluates the other students, and you catch a horrified wheeze of Godefrey’s name (bless his heart) as one of the cauldrons in the back begins to sputter and froth.

You look to Tom with some droll little comment at making it to the end of term with top marks, but his gaze is burning into Godefrey’s table in such a way you wouldn’t be surprised if it was what was causing his cauldron to boil.

Well. Perhaps not, then.

You and Godefrey hand in your essay that Friday with more relief than apprehension — you both decide it’s quite good — and you laugh loudly and breathlessly as he picks you up and thanks you a thousand times, spinning you until you’re dizzy. You refrain from making any promises to attend his Quidditch games, but he vows to let you have the snitch he catches.

And Slughorn, you come to find, was not exaggerating his elation at your skill. After trotting after you on your walk back from Ancient Runes to invite you to the last Slug Club dinner of the year, your spirits are high with the blissful satisfaction of a job well done and a night to celebrate it with.

You can breathe, finally, when it’s the last week of school before Christmas break and Selwyn’s zipping the back of a last-minute dress you purchased in Hogsmeade.

“Gorgeous,” Selwyn says with a grin. “Wish this school would have a bloody ball so I could really dress you up.”

“Buy a doll, Selwyn; you can dress them however you like.”

“You are such a —”

You burst into laugher, swatting her wand away as she pokes your side with it.

“Just — go then, before I hex you.”

“All right, all right!” you concede, arms raised in surrender. “Don’t ruin all your hard work now.”

“Oh,” she calls on your way out the door. You turn and there’s a mischievous look in her eyes as she tucks her wand back in her pocket. “And do tell me before I leave tomorrow if Riddle stares at you all night.”

You groan as if it’s a truly abominable thing to imagine. Riddle, staring with those dark eyes of his? You, the centre of his attention? Ghastly. You daresay you’d never recover from the horror of it.

“Don’t leave before I tell you how remarkably uneventful a night it was,” you say with a sidelong glare, and leave before she can edge in the final word.

You have no idea what a Slug Club supper typically consists of, but you imagine for Christmas he’s gone a little further with his festivities. His office is glittering in hues of green and red and fleecy, snow-dappled gold. The lights overheard (some similar charm to the one in the Great Hall but a tad less complex, you think) drip and then vanish into the air like squeezed berries, and the berries — served with pastries and ice cream — taste like they must be enchanted with something.

Selwyn was right that the standard dress isn’t quite formal enough for a ball, but it’s… formal. The boys are in clean-cut dress robes and the girls are in fine gowns of different lengths. By the overwhelming number of them you recall being archetypes of Slytherin pureblood fanaticism, it makes sense how expensive they all look. You yourself brush up nicely, if not a bit more frugally, but you haven’t been to an event like this at the school yet, and that’s exciting on its own.

It’s another degree of training (is there going to be a marathon? Are you at war?), a step up from your preparations before Potions every other day, to be ready when Tom Riddle enters the room a respectable five minutes late with a gleam about him more captivating than any of the lights.

“Ah, Tom!” Slughorn exclaims, and ushers him into a seat you remark before Tom is even in it is discomfitingly near to yours. “We’re all here at last… Supper, then? Hope you aren’t too full already, I’ve got the House Elves running laps!”

You’re spared Tom’s closeness by a Ravenclaw couple sat in the chairs between you, their hands clasped under the table while they sip wine from their goblets, and you only realise the length of your observation when Tom glances at you from the spot over, and you startle yourself into reaching for your own goblet and pretending to enjoy Slughorn’s bitter wine.

You eat. You listen to cluttered, unending tales of Slughorn’s time at school and how he earned his post. You drink, and then you regret not drinking before eating because there’s only a very light, very nice buzz that warms you when you finish your cup, and the Ravenclaw couple is — oh, wait, it isn’t just them — they’re standing up to dance as a gramophone sparks to life and a low, dulcet instrumental begins to play. There are now two notably empty seats separating you from Tom.

What had you said this night would be? Blissful satisfaction?

You couldn’t blame Selwyn for suggesting you’d blundered Potions — you didn’t feel exceptionally smart right now.

“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,” Tom says, pulling the chair beside you.

Where is the bottle of wine? No. Nevermind. You behave regrettably enough sober.

You manage a simple, “And yet.”

“...And yet.” His lips quirk before he takes a drink from his goblet.

You lament for a second that you’ve only actually kissed those lips once. They spent a great deal longer on your neck.

“Will you be here over break?” he asks, and it isn’t an unreasonable thing to ask, you suppose.

“I think so. Why?”

“I’d like to know whether to expect you or not.”

Expect you… No, yes — revert to observation two: unusual is not an apt enough word for him.

It takes you a moment to conjure a response befitting polite dinner conversation. That is, after all, still what this is.

“I suppose you can. I’ll be busy, of course.”

Well, you didn’t say you conjured something good. It’s a big fat lie. Placating, vague, empty. And you suspect Tom knows that.

“Pity.”

Yes, he knows. He’s all quiet amusement again.

You stare off, satisfied to be left alone —

"And what is it that'll be taking so much of your time?"

“Well, I'm —” And now you have to build the lie — “I’ve told Godefrey I’ll attend to his Quidditch practise. Since the pitch isn’t in use.”

God, it’s so stupid it’s almost impressive — you don’t even know if Godefrey will be here over break, and you could have chosen any number of excuses that would pique Tom’s interest less than it’s apparently consistently piqued by the mention of your study partner.

There’s that strange, indecipherable look again. Riddle is a perfect surname for him, you decide then, and you almost laugh at yourself for it, but that would probably not go over well should he ask what’s so funny.

“Have you, now? That’s very kind of you.”

“It’s hardly charity.”

“Hm, it’s kind of you to think so.”

You huff, tipping your goblet back to swallow the last meagre dregs of your wine.

“You look lovely.”

It’s just a little bit — just a tiny, straggling little bit of elderflower that captures your throat — and you cough into your goblet. “Thank — thank you.”

And, well, he looks lovely too. Obviously. Sickeningly so. You know little about his personal life but you’re positive he’s at least a half-blood, if not muggle-born, and it makes you wonder the influence of his renownedly plain black suit in a crowd of neat, long robes.

He manages with little effort to look better than all of them at their best.

His eyes drift over you appreciatively, quick enough not to be rude but — enough. (Enough that you daresay you might never recover from the horror of it.) You adjust under his gaze even when it’s situated on your face, far too heavy a thing for you to carry. “Does Godefrey call you lovely?”

What?

You blink at him, your mouth is probably open and you probably look stupid but he’s so… irritating. Yes, of course Godefrey calls you lovely. Godefrey tells you you’re the smartest woman he’s ever met (after his mother), and he drowns you with sherbet lemons at no cost, and he writes at the speed of light to match the quickness with which you recite your textbook, and none of it means anything. Tom is just —

“Unbelievable…”

He quirks a brow. “What was that?”

“I said you’re unbelievable, Riddle. Is it impossible for you to comprehend that I might have friends? That Godefrey is my friend?”

“Well, memory serves me right that you seemed a bit confused on the conventions of friendship last you mentioned it. Do forgive my uncertainty.”

He — that was —

“Well, that’s because we are not friends.”

“No.” He leans in. “We are not.”

You push your chair from the table with all the grace you can manage for such an abrupt thing: a tight, impersonal smile on your face as you walk away and approach Slughorn, only realising when you get there that your empty goblet is clutched in your hand like you’re trying to strangle it.

Whatever he sees on your face, he isn’t drunk enough not to frown at. “Ah, our newest gem — hardly seen you all night! Not leaving already, are we?”

You glance at the clock. It isn’t as though you’re being impolite by abandoning his party in the middle of the event. It’s quite late, the servers are stuck to the walls with little to do, and most of the room has divided into waltzing pairs.

“I’m taking my friend to the train station tomorrow, sir. Unfortunately I need to be up quite early.”

Yes, yes, it’s all so tragic. You’re depressed to go.

“Such a shame,” Slughorn frets, wobbling a tad and balancing himself on the wall. “You’ll be all right getting back? Not at all dizzy, are you?” His laugh is cleaved by a loud hiccough, and then he laughs even more. “My, well, I myself will need to be carried!”

“...I’ll be fine, sir. Thank you.”

“Oh, no trouble at all — there’s — hm… ah, Tom!”

No, no — is it bad you almost reach over and slap your palm over your professor’s mouth? Is it at all impressive that you don’t? You should look on the bright side in moments like these. You should admire your restraint.

But of course, Slughorn’s eyes don’t fall upon Tom for nothing. He's halfway across the room already, and Slughorn must have spotted him approaching to achieve this brilliant solution. “Tom can escort you back, no?”

Tom (unforgivably) is beside you now, a very mean, very pretty smile on his face.

“Not too much to ask, I should think? You know the castle best. Head Boy — sometimes I still can’t believe it!”

You look up at Tom and your jaw is clenched where you’ve since put down your goblet. There is too much tension in you to know what to do with, and he looks positively thrilled.

“It’s hardly charity, sir.” He holds out his arm.

You wonder what spell would catch him most off-guard if you were to blast him in the face right now.

Slughorn claps his hands together. “Ha! Yes, well… perfect, then! Off now, the two of you, off now. Do have a good — ” He hiccoughs again — “rest!”

You don’t even bother the diplomacy of smiling at Slughorn as your arm loops through Tom’s and you’re exiting the party.

Neither of you say a word on the journey, and that’s very well.

If you could just get back to bed without speaking to him you may still consider it a good night. You may be able to push his strangeness and his entitlement and the annoying way his hair falls to another day, when he pesters you about Godefrey’s nonexistent Quidditch practise, which — come to think of it — you do think he told you he'd be headed home for the holidays. You really fumbled that one.

And then Tom’s thumb is brushing the bare skin of your arm and your walk stutters a bit. But he doesn’t mention it, and so neither do you.

And then he’s drawing down your elbow to your forearm so softly it almost feels like he isn’t touching you at all. He doesn’t mention it. Neither do you.

And then your arm, without really meaning for it to, is slipping from his and his hand is holding yours instead, feather-light as his fingers clasp yours and your breath is not the same as it was when you left.

He doesn’t mention it. He just keeps going.

His fingers work back up your arm and you shiver as they drag across your shoulder, gaze searing your neck as the soft digits find their way to your jaw, and you get the sense he’s remembering just how much he liked the taste of it, and you’re… you’re allowing it all again. You’re leaning in, you’re seeking him out, you want him flush against you and even that might not be satisfactory.

You are, in the end, a half-decent observer and a terrible liar.

You’re grabbing his hand with a small amount of direction and a great deal of meaning. You suppose it's because, historically, you’ve proven to have trouble with words in moments like these, and you don’t really know where you’re taking him but god, you know where you want him. Somewhere soft, this time, thick enough that you can fist your hands around it and melt. Somewhere he can hover over you, maybe hold you down a little, just until — maybe, miraculously — you might make him break a little too. Clamber over his lap. Make him yours.

“Tom,” you mouth, some question in the way your eyebrows knit.

The moment you say his name — the instant — he’s pulling you in, crushing his mouth against yours. And, ah, right, that’s what his lips feel like. You’d almost forgotten.

This kiss is not chaste, hardly tender. It resists in that it asks you to push, to plead, to take this for yourself to prove how badly you want it, and he smiles into it when you do. And then, sated by your efforts, he lets you have him. You’re gripping the collar of his suit in your hands as his wander appreciatively over the back of your dress, pulling you into him as the kiss deepens. He’s savouring you like you’re something religious that’s been offered to him, and there’s the taste of wine on his tongue and you’re still here, aware enough that the symbolism isn’t lost on you.

“I've been thinking," he says between kisses, “about the way you felt when I touched you. I've been thinking about how long it might take before you need it again."

You gasp at the sensation, and god, god, you've been wondering too, haven't you?

You’re pulling him impossibly closer and something hard is pressing into your hip and you clutch tighter onto his shirt as you moan into his mouth. You need it off, you think, and — has your dress been clinging to you like this all night? You need that off too. You need skin on skin. You careen him backwards without aim, your mind a muddled mess of all the many things your body is screaming it needs, like this is fucking imperative; to give it up would be catastrophic.

You suppose, based on what you’ve read, that that’s how the Room of Requirement works, but it’s still funny to think it would apply to this.

It hurts to remove yourself from him to watch in dumb awe as the door forms in the stone (to see the dark, languid shape of his eyes bearing down on you, the wet, stained pink of his lips), and Tom seems to recover from the revelation much faster than you.

His mouth is on yours once more, a hungry kiss; his free hand at your waist, guiding you through the door and shutting it carelessly behind him.

He’s like fire against you, radiating as he presses down on you, his hand tangled in your hair and his hips flush against yours. You shiver as his mouth starts to move down (a cheap trick — he hasn’t forgotten how much you liked it the last time) from your jaw to your throat, as his lips trail down your chest and you're shivering into the warmth of him.

You’ve heard it said before, in some romantic sense, that it’s sometimes hard to tell where you end and someone else begins.

This is not like that.

You've never been more aware of anything than the point where you and him meet.

You’re tugging at him blindly again, trusting in the nature of the Room like this isn't the first time you've been in it, and then you're stumbling down onto a bed you're quite sure wasn't there a moment ago (people say magic is a neutral force but evidently this is not the fucking case), fingers carding through Tom's hair as his body pins you into the mattress.

His mouth is molten hot as you squirm and pant beneath him, your breath coming faster than it ever has. Everything feels sharper and deeper and more intense under his touch, every sensation heightened until it's almost impossible to tell pleasure from pain, his tongue from his teeth.

How did it take you this long to do this again? To need him like this?

And his — you should really have the mind to see the mistake in all of this but perhaps that's for later — his fingers are pulling your sleeves down, propping your back to arch as he reaches under you to unzip your dress, apparently too impatient to sit you up and take it off properly so he just bunches it around your waist instead. There’s a moment where he stops to look at you, your chest exposed to him in the dim sconce-light, and then his mouth returns to circle your breast and you're biting down on a pillow to hold back the whimpering gasp that seeks to escape you. He hums around your flesh, and then he’s at your sternum, kissing a stripe to your belly button before pushing past the dress he's left ringed around your abdomen.

You shimmy under the weight of him to prop your head up — to see past the mass of silk that obscures his face from you as moves lower and lower, hands spanning your hips to keep you still.

His face hovers above your thighs, and he doesn’t move.

“Did you enjoy my fingers?" he asks.

At that you freeze, thighs pressing together to bury the hand that's rising between them.

Tom smiles. “Hm, you did."

And then he spreads your legs apart, one hand pushing your underwear aside and regarding you with delicate, shameless appetite — something that might even be adoration: like this is all he ever wanted you to want.

“Do you think you'd enjoy my mouth, too?"

Words are gone. There's nothing left in you.

His head moves happily between your knees, holding them apart, pressing kisses to the base of your thighs. Your hands flail from the sheets, desperate to grip something else and you hold back a sound that feels like irritation and need at the same time. You need him closer, higher than this. He knows. You can feel his smile biting into your skin.

And then you manage a nod though you're not even sure he's looking at your face anymore (and what a picture to imagine he is) and you worry momentarily it won’t be enough for him — that he’ll ask you to be nice and say it out loud for him — but he hums with something merciful, and — his chin dips. You catch the smallest glimpse of his tongue before it’s on you, wet and slow and unrelenting and you say his name, but it’s a mewl; you choke on it. It sounds like a cry.

Pitiful, needy, undone. Just how he wants you.

You think all efforts to remain even remotely composed are thrown to the wind as soon as his tongue is lapping at you, fast and then slow, everything you want and not even remotely close. He sinks all his weight down as if he can predict the moment you'll writhe before you do — and you do. And with his grip he tells you to endure it. You only need him to say it with his hands and his mouth but he breathes back, licking his lips and he actually says it. “Be good.”

That makes your breath hitch and your cheeks swell impossibly hotter, and reality is a small glint in your peripheral where everything else is burning red. “Y-you’re—”

His mouth returns to you, tongue catching your clit in a drawn-out, agonising motion, and you gasp and lurch forward to inch through the sensation, craving more, more, more. Reason is lost on you, a throbbing familiarity forcing you to grind your teeth down on the pillow to stop yourself from telling him to — you don’t even know. Finish you. Abandon all reluctance. Just let you come as hard as you know he wants you to.

But he pauses, observant as he starts to work his fingers against you. Watching how your slick coats them like it’s the most enthralling sight he’s ever witnessed. Slowly, ever so slowly, he starts to push one inside of you, hearing your breath catch above him and the moan that comes tumbling out of your throat, pillow be damned.

You do your best to breathe through it, and you know he knows how to make you unfold like this, so the meticulous lightness of his ministrations tells you he’s trying to keep it from you now. You’re almost embarrassed about the fact that you’re dripping onto his hand regardless; his lips puffy, his gaze unnervingly, dizzyingly carving you in two.

“Just,” you rasp, clutching desperately at his wrist. “Tom, please.”

Your begging must be music to his ears. (It’s a rare, unplanned fifth observation: that you think he’ll never get tired of hearing you say his name like that.)

He adds a finger. It’s encircling you, first, and no amount of restraint can stop the harsh gasp that leaves you, but then it’s his tongue and two fingers and he’s pushing into you how you wanted, and he makes a pleased sound against you, gripping you tighter with his free hand, still not allowing you movement and fuck, are you trying. What you're feeling now — the need, the want, everything — is more than rational thought. Your mind goes blank, and all that matters is this, him, right here and now; nothing else exists, not even for a second. You moan, a low, throaty noise that's a little too loud, a little too intense; you can't recall if anything has ever come from you quite like it and Tom devours you at the sound.

More, you agree; it's almost an obsession in you now; more, more, please, anything and everything.

It’s the precision of his touch — not some bored, hurried transgression — that brings your hands helplessly to his hair.

“Tom,” you whine, holding him tight, and the purr of his mouth finding you again is something destructive.

As soon as you feel another swell of something deep down, your mouth is dropping open.

His tongue is sliding through you, fingers curling, and then your clit is in his mouth, and he’s watching you between your thighs as your eyes clench shut, and you’re coming.

Your voice breaks somewhere in the catastrophe of it. Your body spasms, electric down to every atom, and he pins you down through it. He doesn’t grant you the reprieve of escaping the frenzied, glorious torture of it. His mouth still lingers. His tongue moves thankful and unrelenting.

He takes all of you, and you think this is destruction — creation — both. How terrifyingly similar they suddenly feel.

His lips are swollen and slick when he finally detaches them from you and you want to kiss him, but he’s leaning back to admire his work. You swallow, unable to blame him for it because you look down at yourself and — this is something else. You’re dripping down his chin. You're shaking. Your legs are still clenching around his torso. They’re holding him so tight you can’t imagine it doesn’t hurt.

But he just rolls off of you. Adjusts his trousers and your abdomen flutters and you think, don’t.

You don’t even realise you’re reaching for him until your hand is around his wrist and you’re still fucking sighing through the come-down, panting into the hot air.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, fingers damp on your chin as he holds you. You make a note that that’s the second time he’s done that. That you thought it was strangely intimate the first time and nothing’s changed other than how much more you like it.

And it doesn’t really feel like you can help it but crawl with gooey, trembling legs onto his lap. Doesn’t feel like you can help it when you lean in and capture his lips with yours, moan unabashedly into his mouth at the stiffness that presses against your core when you do, steal his tongue and the taste of you on it.

When he pulls away he’s looking at you like he doesn’t think you can actually do this. Like you’d just crumble the moment you tried.

A low, determined protest rises in your throat and you’re kissing him again. You’re unbuttoning his dress shirt, you’re trembling to reach for his trousers.

When you can finally shrug his shirt off, press yourself against him, feel that skin on skin you wanted so badly, you find it somehow even more suffocating than its absence. You’re left wanting a more you aren’t able to even conceptualise, but you’re grinding involuntarily against him and his teeth are scraping your neck and he's hissing at the sensation, and — yes, there’s more.

Your breath is staggered when your hips stutter into a roll and you — fuck. You’re tugging desperately to remove his belt and he smiles against your throat as he takes your hands and guides them to him. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and you’re spreading your legs to usher him where you want, clawing at his chest without even meaning to.

Tom’s taking off his belt, and he’s pulling down his trousers just enough to bare himself to you, and maybe he’s right that you can’t manage it yourself but he stops his assistance like the intrigue of finding out is too good to resist. There's something both intimate and imperious, in a way, about the way he's looking at you now; it's a kind of focus and intensity and withheld hunger just for you; and you're more than happy to give yourself over to it, to let his hands and his eyes and his mouth claim you for his own. To claim him for yours, at last.

You do. You struggle for it. He’s very patient.

But then it’s there — more — as you finally sink down on him and bite his shoulder and he shudders a low, pained exhale, his hands clutching your waist.

There’s a silent, suspended moment where neither of you move. The room feels entirely still.

Your lips quiver over his pulse, and your stomach flips at the intensity of it, the undeniable rate of his desire beneath you. You smile against him now, like he always does to you, conscious enough to mumble into his neck, “Mine.”

Tom stutters inside you, fingers gripping you impossible tighter as you dare to think he even gasps. You dare to think he likes it.

And then one of his hands grabs your jaw and his kiss is searing. He thrusts upward and you cry into his mouth, searching to match his pace in a way that you appreciate, for once, he seems unlearned in.

It’s all a bit messy, a bit new, palms in fists, in skin, in hair, digging for every part they haven’t already taken from. The sound in the back of Tom’s throat is divine, the feeling of him inside you as he slips his hand back between your legs — like he needs everything, like he knows you do too — it’s ineffable. It coils somewhere deep, touches something you didn’t know existed. Your hips are rotating, thighs still soft and slack from coming apart on his tongue, but you’re determined. It feels like finding even ground. It feels like something you deserve: to make him feel how you did.

Your head rolls back, eyes pinching shut in bliss, but Tom is there at your jaw again, forcing your blurry gaze back to him.

His hips are inching even further, the intensity of his pace as he adjusts to you making you dizzy. You think, realistically, there’s sound coming out of you, but you aren’t entirely sure when it’s so close to him, when your mouth is between his fingers and your ears are ringing and he’s looking at you like you’re made for him.

“Mine.” And it isn’t a dismissal of your own claim but a confirmation that one will not be without the other. His voice is raw and breathy and something about the way he says it makes you contract inadvertently around him, hands swatting his chest like they don’t know what else to do. There’s just too much.

You recognize you’re trying to say something. Some plea, a moan, his name (is there anything else left?), but you’re just babbling into his mouth and he holds you there. He doesn’t kiss you. It’s your failing words against his lips. He swallows whatever syllables try to shape them.

It’s there again when you need it most; the heavy, swirling feeling inside you as he snaps his hips, his fingers returning to your waist with punishing firmness. His breathing accelerates, low in his throat, and you push harder against him. Your vision is gone again, head held in his hands to keep from rolling back so that, you suspect, he can watch defeat split you down the middle again — not over your shoulder, not with his head between your legs — with his eyes on yours, with every broken moan you let out so close to his face he can feel the breath of each one.

You’re grappling desperately at skin that doesn’t feel like enough, even though he’s rocking inside you, and you see the insanity of it, you see that it isn’t logical. Too much and not enough at once — you’re smart enough to know that doesn’t work, but it just is.

“Please,” you manage in a voice you don’t recognize. “Please, Tom, pleasepleaseplease —”

Had you said before it was foolish to call him forgiving? You take it back. He’s very eager to oblige you.

He finds some place inside of you and you don’t know quite what it is that he changes but it's new, uncharted, and you break there. You dissolve. You’re liquid in his hands as you sob, stuttering around him, trembling like you didn’t know was possible, and you swear — you swear you’re going to take him there with you. It isn’t that you could stop yourself if you tried but your body is gripping around him, fingers carving halved spheres into his skin, and you’re pushing down on him through the ecstasy — you’re forcing your eyes open so he can see you break, watch them flutter back all soft and pretty.

And you're sated by your ruin when it ruins him too.

The sound he makes is ragged. Undone. He can only bury it halfway with a kiss you think is actually more of a bite, twitching inside you as he fucks you through it.

You’re both lost in each other for a moment that feels detached from time, feeling his hips stutter to a halt, feeling your body soften. And he’s pulling out of you like it hurts, mouth falling open as he does. You wince at the loss, the sweet soreness between your legs, and you’re held only by the weight of him. You think — and you actually sway like the mere idea is too strong — that if it weren’t for his hands, you’d fall flat off the bed.

But he sort of lifts you off him, lays you down and watches you for a long time as if to decide something important before he's laying down beside you. You watch him too. His fingers brush your hair out of your face, and when there’s not a single curl left clinging to the sweat on your skin, he continues anyway. You let him trace your lips, your jaw, your nose, and somehow, a bit terrifyingly, your final observation: nothing about it feels unusual at all.

You did say he was yours.

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #voldemort #voldemort x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle oneshot #NO LONGER!#but it is only a two-parter sorry. this is it #harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

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icarusredwings · 2 months ago

Text

It's 3026

The local Us government has implemented a purge.

Logan and Wade of course are still alive and.. not exactly "well" but are doing fine for themselves.

Currently, Wade is stitching a hole in Logan's vintange 2060's Dickies jeans that they had bought for 5$ a pair when Dickies went out of buisness after being exposed for tax fraud and Logan is widdling a miniature of their fat little dog, who was infact still alive and laying on the lap of their skeleton of a roommate.

The oldies classical song from a very dead singer called Bruno Mars is playing changes to a broad casting alert.

"This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S Government."

"Welp... It's that time of year again." Logan mutters.

"Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed."

"Sell out pussies.." The man sewing mumbles.

"Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning, until 7 a.m., when the Purge concludes." The radio continues.

"Blessed by our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn. May God be with you all. Goodbye. " Wade says mockingly along with the announcement.

After a moment, the music came back on, and instantly, there was already screaming and car alarms going on just a few doors down.

"I'd hope that Hope much enjoys this." Logan says, smirking, the hairs on his chin being bare of color.

Wade rolls his eyes, "Oh please. If you keep trying to make puns I might just die myself."

"You wish you could get away from me that easily." The scuff man says, working on the tail of the pudgey dog.

"He thinks he's funny, Althea."

"Oh, Don't bring her into this. Leave her be. I still can't believe you won't let me burry her."

Wade waves a hand. "Nonsense. She said she wanted to die and rot in this appartment."

"And she certianly did." He grumbles. "She STILL stinks."

"The only thing that stinks is your attitude."

"Mmh...You aren't going out this year, are you?"

"Nahh, poor girl's already so over worked this time of year, why add to it?"

"Fair.....could you turn that up though? If we aren't participating this year I rather not have to hear it." Logan mutters, his ears still very sensitive, even at this ripe fine wine age.

"Yes, dear." Wade smiles, turning up the radio to drown out the yells for help, screams of terror and crashing of glass, going back to his sweet serenity of sewing with a relaxed sigh.

If the party was over, and our time on earth is through🎶

"..i'd wanna hold you.. just for awhile.."

"Anndd DIIEEE with a ssmilee!" Even this old, Wade was never dull.

"If the world was ending.. I'd wanna be next..."

"To youu.."

Their hands touch. Eyes meet.

Even in such chaos, the outer world could never rip them apart.

#the purge #mary puppins #lady death #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool #wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadclaws #what if #SoundCloud #blind al #implied character death

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years ago

Note

OH GOD YOUR REQS R OPEN, i would rlly like to request something, could you write an one shot of price with a little daugther reader? just like, him coming home and spending some time with his little girl, she tells him about her school, he tells her some funny stories that happened while he was at work, he cooks her favorite meal, just a big fluff, i love this man more than anything and i just need some paternal love LMAO, feel totally free to deny! do everything in your time and remember to take good care of urself!

Memories of Youth

Pairing: Father!John Price x F!Daughter!Reader

Synopsis: It was hard being away from his little girl, but warm mornings spent in each other's company were blessings - even if they were far and few in between. It didn't matter the form.

Word Count: 4.5k (short and sweet)

Warnings: Angst (just a little cuz I can't help myself), a lotta fluff, banter, just good platonic/paternal relationship in general, etc.

A/N: Didn't specify if the reader was adopted or blood-related, so that's really up to you! Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

He got the call at the halfway point of crossing the English Channel, Northern France behind him and Southern England just on the horizon line as the sun began to spread its orange glow over the waves. Sitting high above the water in a slick black Heli, John Price’s hand snaps to his side pocket, fingers deftly peeling back the layers as the overwhelming sound of helicopter blades shakes the hull.

The rest of Task Force 141 watch with varying interest, only Gaz taking notice of the sudden frown that mars his Captain’s face; the furrowed brow, and the spark of concern in his eyes. A call was unusual. The Sargeant tries not to intrude, but can’t help the way his body lightly shifts so he can have a better view.

John doesn't bother to look at the contact when he takes the device out, rapidly pressing the answer button and slotting the phone at his ear, tilting his head so his opposite rests at the junction of his shoulder. It only stops a fraction of the noise, even so, it would have to do for now. But with how his ears were already straining to find a sound over the line, he may not need to force out the jarring racket after all.

Inside his chest, John’s heart is racing – confusion laces his mind. This was abnormal.

I told her only to call if it was an emergency. What could she have gotten herself into now? I said to stay out of trouble…

“Where are you?!” The Brit has to shout down the line, his familiar deep accent loud and guttural.

His mind flies through every possibility. An intruder had broken into the house, you had broken your arm falling down the stairs again, or a fire had broken out in the kitchen. Fuck…he was too far away to help if anything bad had happened. John’s jaw clenches, eyes looking out over the water as the bucket hat on his head flops in the wind. It was only a product of his job that made him think like that; years of intuition and thinking on the fly leading to his mind making up the worst scenarios.

Especially when you called on a secure line when he told you it was only appropriate for life-and-death situations. Especially when it was his little girl.

I told ‘er about the Pistol in my office, yeah? The Captain asks himself with a steel-like resolve. And gave her Laswell’s number?

John’s fingers tighten over the phone when he hears your breath over the line, a shuffling of clothes, and a deep exhale.

“Sunshine!” He tries again, sitting up straighter as his pulse gets faster. Why isn’t she answering me? “Where are you right–”

“We don’t have anything for breakfast.” Your voice is heavy with sleep; fatigue drowning the syllables and holding them under the very waves that rage under John only separated by thin sheets of metal.

The Brit stops. His body freezes, and as the tense minutes go by his panic falls away and leaves a thick stain of annoyance resting behind his eyelids. Of course. John brings two fingers to his nose bridge, digging into the skin until tiny crescent moons are left behind; he has to take a deep breath before answering, but his tone leaves nothing to the imagination.

“...Breakfast…?”

“Yeah, Old Man, you need me to spell it for you? B-R-E-A-K-F-A–”

“Enough!” John barks stiffly and has to hold back his anger as you laugh from the other side. Ever the jokester – did you not realize how serious this was? How fast your father’s heart was racing with adrenaline?

Fuck, he had just about been ready to radio the cockpit and force the pilots to fly faster.

Across the way, Ghost locks eyes with the man, and with a tilt of his head and a loud call he asks, “That the Mutt?”

The Captain’s eyes slip back into a firm blank slate.

“Affirm.” John tilts the phone away from his mouth, ignoring your sarcastic comments to catch his sanity for a moment and respond to his Lieutenant.

Simon blinks as Johnny perks up at his side, looking in from the view in favor of the Captain with newfound interest. A bright smile forms over his scruffy cheeks

“She all good?” The skeletal man asks, and Gaz smirks lazily tapping his fingers over his knee, immediately noticing your shenanigans and the way the Cap was so worked up.

But anyone would be when they had a daughter thousands of miles away.

John simply nods once with an exasperated expression to Ghost. MacTavish snorts out a laugh, knowing the context of the situation without having to think hard.

“Is that Uncle Simon?” You ask, and with a scratch at his beard, your father hums in confirmation, letting the sound of your voice put him more at ease. She’s just fine. “Tell him I want him to come over and play Mario Cart with Gaz, Johnny, and me again! He wiped the floor with ‘em last time!”

There’s a clinking of pots and pans as you move throughout the house.

“Sweetheart,” Your father grumbles, sighing through the call. His voice takes on the authoritative tone that works for both soldiers and teenagers – but it rarely works on you, despite that fact. Took after your dad too much, is what John would say. Never listened until it was absolutely necessary. “What did I tell you about callin’ this phone when I’m away from the house?”

He hears your scoff and raises a warning eyebrow, though you can’t see it. You know your dad enough to know he’s doing it despite being separated. It was pretty common.

“Not to, unless it’s an emergency…But I’d say food is a big enough reason, y’know? Unless you want me to eat the leftover cake for breakfast – which I haven’t thrown out as a possibility yet, honestly.”

“You’re not eatin’ bloody cake for breakfast. You’ll get sick.” Gaz snickers, turning his face away to hide the amusement at the comment.

It hadn’t been a surprise that the Captain’s daughter was such a familiar creature – they saw traits reflected every time the two were together. Everyone had expected her to take after her old man in nearly everything, and when she had they had bumped fists and prayed for the brown-bearded man. But it was funny nonetheless, considering they got along better than most fathers and daughters; practically reading each other's minds when everyone was playing poker. Johnny was still pretty ticked off about that – he’s a good deal deep into the sweets debt he owes you because Price helps you win. But where they really shined was with the shared deadpan attitudes, bottom-of-the-barrel sarcasm, and knowing how to command a room without even trying. Safe to assume that the rest of the team would do anything for you.

“Will not.” You grumble in retaliation, and John’s lips threaten to tilt into a grumpy smile when he hears you put the cake plate back into the counter.

Letting the tension fall from his shoulders, the brown-haired man takes a glance outside, watching the waves go bright orange as they lap and writhe like great sea serpents.

“How long have you been up, eh? The sun’s barely risen. Thought Sunday was when you always slept in?”

There’s a pause in what John believed were fingers digging through a cupboard, and he narrows his eyes in confusion as the silence grows long. He frowns when you speak again, words so quiet he has to place a hand over his other ear to hear properly. Having half a mind to go and tell the pilots to hurry up and go faster so he can just talk to his little girl in person, he refrains, knowing that’s not how this works. But something was wrong – it had been laced in your previous words, as tiny and unnoticeable as it may have been. Only a father would notice it.

“You said you were gonna be home last night. I stayed up.” It takes a moment of halted breathing before John’s eyes widen, blues full of realization.

Oh.

…Damn it. He lets out the tense breath of air from his lips, shifting in his seat as the gear around his body weighs him down. His gun digs into his chest.

He hadn't seen you for over a week – leaving you in the care of a close and trusted neighbor, Mrs. Lilly, just as he always had when he needed to leave for work on short notice. But seeing as you were older now, it became apparent that, with your learned independence, staying at the house by yourself was alright as long as you checked in with the neighbor every morning and night. You had been waiting for him to come home. All alone. In the dark.

Fucken’ hell, John thinks in a deep layer of guilt as wrinkles overtake his forehead, I did tell her I’d be back yesterday. I forgot to call and tell ‘er. Shit! He didn’t want to imagine the stress that had been put on your shoulders. God, what’ve I done?

Not checking in was something he had never missed before – he always told you when he was about to come back. What had gone wrong this time? How had something that important just slipped his mind? Sure the Op had been tedious, but he was trained to handle it. It was no excuse.

“Sweetheart,” John starts and then pauses the soft and gentle endearment, knowing that an apology didn’t fit into what you were looking for. You didn’t want an ‘I’m sorry’ right now, you wanted your father. Flattening his lips into a line, he continues, wishing he was with you more than ever so he can press a kiss to your forehead. “...I should be back before 1200. How about when I get back I’ll cook you up somethin’ myself, yeah? Or we can go to that Cafe you like down on Newman Street and I’ll get you whatever you want.”

“...When do you have to go back?” You don’t answer his question, and yours makes his heart hurt.

John clears his throat.

“None of that, now. We’ll talk more when I get back, Darling, alright?” You don’t respond, but he hears you sigh and quietly scoff under your breath. “Alright?” He tries again, head tilting forward and eyebrows rising as if you could see him. Maybe you could.

“Fine. But you better make me pancakes. I don’t care if it’ll be noon.”

“Pancakes it is.” The Captain looks up in time to see Johnny mouthing words to him, and with a blank face and stiff lip, your father mutters with a grunt, “Johnny says ‘hello.’”

Your shocked snort makes him feel better, but a layer of guilt still stays. You were awake all night waiting for him, and he never showed up. Did you sleep on the couch? Damnit, he hoped you didn’t…but in his rattling chest knew you had. He found you like that every time he came back from a long stay away. Huddled under blankets, no pillow under your head. Sometimes you steal one of his shirts and hold it like a stuffed bear to your chest, shoving your face into it.

How could I forget to fucken’ call her?

Your voice takes him out of his growing self-resentment.

“Tell him to watch his back – I’m getting better at Rainbow Road. Soon enough I’ll be able to beat him in a 1V1!” John can’t help the slow chuckle that bounces in his throat, mind, for the moment, at ease as long as you continue to speak to him.

“I’ll be sure to pass it along. But, eh,” The Brit makes sure he speaks slowly, letting you hear every syllable of his next words. “Promise me you’ll stay at the house until I get there. No goin’ out with friends, yeah? You know how I worry.” John ignores the teasing look from Gaz and peeks out again to see how close they were to the mainland with narrowed lids. “‘Specially when I’m not there.”

Getting back to the Base wasn’t the problem, it was the damn reports coming in that would wring his neck before he could get out the door. But he’d push it off for however long he could; call in favors from Laswell to get him more time with his little girl so he can fix his mistake. As a dad, the only thing that counted was seeing his daughter after a seemingly unending Op that he didn’t want to relive. The hardest part wasn’t the blood or the guts – it was being away from you. Nothing would ever change that, even if he was the one on the ground gritting his teeth at the bite of a bullet.

“Scout’s honor, Old Man.” The happiness in your voice makes him smile to himself.

“Stop calling me that, Muppet.” John grumbles affectionately, rolling his eyes, “I’ll give you a call when back I’m in town, Sunshine. Make sure the door’s locked–”

“--Locked, the windows too, plus, if someone knocks on the door I need to look through the peephole and if I don’t recognize them don’t open it…Am I missing anything?”

“Mind yourself, now you’re just being cheeky, you are.” John teases, scoffing, but proud that you remembered his rules. It made all of this just a bit more manageable.

“Who do you think I got it from?” You laugh, but it tapers off sullenly, “Just…get home safe, okay, Dad?”

John’s beard pulls back into a soft close-lipped grin, eyes crinkling as his heart warms. He so desperately wanted to ruffle your hair.

“Of course, Hun. But, eh, take a nap. It’s still early, and I know you’ve got schoolwork to do later. You sound like you’re about to keel over where you stand.” You scoff before agreeing with a muttered grumble, most likely already stumbling to the living room couch, and then the line goes silent and is replaced once more by the whirring of the helicopter blades.

The man peels back the phone and pockets it, hand unconsciously brushing his breast pouch where a picture of the two of you always sits. It was a baby picture, with your little form held in his grip delicately; looking down at you with soft eyes and an easy smile on his lips that always formed when he was with you. From under a soft blanket, your tiny hand reaches out to try and brush his stubbily cheek.

It never failed to bring him ease when he realized the photo was there. A reminder that if everything else in his life went horribly wrong, you would still be looking up at him with those eyes of yours. At the very least, he had managed to do one thing right.

“She’ll be fine. She’s a good kid.” Gaz calls at him, and John spares him a glance out of the side of his eye with a raised brow.

“I know she is. I’m the one who raised her.”

—

You remember eating a piece of toast before you made your way over to the couch, throwing your phone to the coffee table haphazardly before tossing yourself onto the cushions. Still in your pajamas, you can’t find it in you to go and grab the homework in your backpack this early. The sun had only just risen, and the bags under your eyes reminded you how late you stayed up last night.

But your father had never shown up.

Frantic was too light a word to describe the feeling you had when your eyelids had peeled back to the empty living room and the TV still playing. It had been second nature to snatch your phone and call the secure line – half of you had said it was better to call Laswell, just in case, but your adolescent brain had wanted nothing more than to hear your father’s voice.

He would make it better. But you needed to hear his voice.

Dad, you remembered pleading to yourself as the sound of the dial tone echoed in your ear, please answer the phone. Please. Answer the fucking phone.

Your heart was pounding; hands shaking. He never just didn’t show up when he said he was going to. Never. Your dad was punctual – always on time no matter what – and he had ingrained the same sentiment in you as well.

When his deep voice finally bounced in your eardrums you nearly started to cry, missing the first hurried and concern-filled inquiry of where you were. Hearing his voice put you at ease, and after a week of missing your father’s strong presence and his warm hugs, it was hard not to take a shaky inhale when he seemed so close.

You just wanted him home; you wanted him to make you pancakes and help you with your schoolwork. You wanted him to read a book to you on this couch like you were a toddler again while his old record player was on in the background.

It was childish, getting so worked up about it, but your dad meant the world to you. Not having him here felt wrong.

Sighing, you rub at your eyes and revel in the darkness before letting out a strained yawn, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and pulling it over your body. It didn’t take long before your eyes were flickering shut, a calm quiet settling over the house as cars passed by outside in the street. You pull the blanket closer and breathe, inhaling pine needles and ash.

You don’t know how long you were there, twitching in your sleep before the scent woke you up – it makes your nose scrunch, eyelids blinking away fuzz. There was a pillow under your head, the blanket wrapped tight around your neck to keep out the London chill, and a clanking of pans in the kitchen. Scraping spatula over cast iron, you knew, the sizzling of batter.

The haze of that in-between state, sleep and consciousness fighting in the back of your skull and under your hairline, stays even as you try to force it away. It was like a wave – it constantly pulled you under when you thought you were getting to the surface. Your eyes would blink open and closed; comforted back into sleep by the deep humming, the waver of an old record player. Feet over hardwood and the smell of fresh pancakes.

Dad’s home.

A delirious smile slides over your sleep-hot face. That was why you were so content. This was what home sounded and smelled like.

Dad’s home. You repeat it once more, nuzzling farther into your father's travel pillow he brings to and from Base. Pine needles. Ash. Cigar smoke.

Dad’s home! Your eyes snap open wildly, your body shooting up from the cushions as the blanket falls to the floor. Angling your head to the separated kitchen, you swipe the drool from your mouth with a heavy hand and listen.

Your dreams had tricked you before, but no. Not this time.

He was humming along to some old tune under his breath that mirrored the record player behind the couch; the antique turned low so it wouldn’t wake you. Blinking in shock, your mouth morphs into a rich smile instantaneously.

Throwing yourself off the couch, your feet slam to the floor, rushing and almost tripping over the blanket on the floor as your body slants forward. Giggling, you push on, righting yourself with no second thought other than welcoming your dad home the same as you always did. Zipping around the corner, a shadow is already turning your way, a plate of pancakes ready to be put on the table and devoured.

“Dad!” You yell loudly and launch yourself at him, hearing his chest let out a grunt and his hands splay around you so he won’t drop breakfast food all over the floor.

A velvety chuckle is wrung from his body, and his free digits go to rest heavily on your head as you shove yourself into his hold. Gripping his shirt tight between your fingers, you try not to cry when that scent that had been fading from the house comes back tenfold. Your eyes burn, but you only let one tear out when your dad’s finger begins stroking your hair just like he did when you were little.

You had been so worried.

“There’s my girl,” His voice whispers out, “I’m here, Sunshine. Easy now.”

“I thought you died,” You can’t help the helpless gasp that rips from you. Your father’s hand freezes; body going rigid around your smaller, desperately grasping frame. The atmosphere of the room flips. Digging into the fabric of his shirt the full flood of tears finally comes forward. “W-when I woke up and you weren’t here I… I thought you were never coming back home, and that I would have to go and live with the neighbors and I’d have to bury you in the cemetery. I don’t-don’t wanna have to put you in the ground.” You’re rambling, but you can’t stop the words. “I don’t want you to leave me alone, Dad. Please don’t leave me alone.”

At some point, the plate of pancakes had been tossed to the counter without care for if the porcelain cracked from the force, and both of your father's arms hand scooped you into his hold effortlessly. Your breath was hiccuping violently, tears making his shirt wet and sticking to his skin.

But John didn’t care.

He wrapped his arms around you and curled his body in, taking you into a hold so warm and tight you couldn’t leave it even if you tried.

What’ve I done? The man feels his lips tense, blinking down at your shaking body with guilt as you sob. Oh, my Little Girl, I’m so sorry. What’ve I done to you?

Had he never noticed the toll that this job was taking on you? John asked himself this in disgust as he pressed his lips to the crown of your head, whispering words into your hair under his shaky breath. He hated when you cried because of him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Love, alright? Look at me.” You don’t move your bruising grip, face still held away from sight as you gasp down frantic breaths. John’s voice gets firmer, “Sweetheart, I need you to look at me, yeah?”

Your tight fingers stutter, and your head barely shifts to the side, one red eye peeking up as he looks down at you with all the love he can muster without looking incredibly broken. He never wanted to see you cry again but knew that would be an impossible feat to accomplish – but he’d do his damndest to try.

“There she is.” John’s hand goes to your cheek, brushing away the saltwater with a calloused thumb as you sniffle. “Just keep those eyes on me, Little One.”

“...M’ not little anymore.” You grumble out, your cheeks heating even as your pulse slows as you focus on your dad's eyes. So soft the edges were nearly liquid; water that held your attention as they lapped across your form.

“To me, you’ll always be little. Can’t change that I’m afraid.” The man grunts out, tilting his head down at you and letting his eyes travel from concern to comfort. But that doesn’t change the present.

“I’m so sorry, Love,” Your father mutters, eyes flickering away from yours in guilt so rarely shown to others. He always prided himself on being strong, you knew, bearing the brunt of the weight. Apologies weren’t often verbally said until it truly mattered. “I should have called you. That’s all on me, that is. Bloody stupid to forget about, knowin’ how you wait up for me.”

Your lips thin to mimic your dad's, brows pulling close. But in your chest, your heart couldn’t be larger. You didn’t hold it against him, but you wished he could be here more often; not put himself in dangerous situations. Knowing as little as you did about your dad's actual job, you still knew it wasn’t entirely safe.

Maybe the two of you protected each other from the things unseen.

Your chest aches.

“...You’re funny lookin’ when you have to apologize. Like a kicked bear.” Pulling back your lips, a tiny smile lighting your face, and you look up at your dad with a sniffle in your nose.

His visage snaps to yours, eyebrows going high on his head in surprise, and hooded blue eyes widening. It takes a moment, but a smirk pushes back his beard when he sees the tears have stopped falling.

“Yeah?” John asks you, a grumble reverberating in his chest, “Now, y’know, that is just bloody rude, Sunshine. Thought I raised you better…And after I made you pancakes.”

Laughing, you pull back, stomach rumbling and nose twitching at the prospect of the nearly forgotten food. Slithering past your father, you snatch the plate and fork before rushing into the living room. Jumping on the couch you begin to cut into the carbs, piling pieces into your mouth and smiling at the taste. No one else could make them as your dad could.

The Brit comes not seconds later, a cup of tea held in his hand before he sits down next to you with a groan, stretching out and laying his socked feet on the coffee table next to your tossed phone from hours earlier. You giggle, suddenly leaning to his large frame and hearing him grunt in retaliation.

“Tell me a funny story,” You demand, listening to him sip his drink in the mid-morning glow that spreads outside the house and leaks in through the opened curtains. Birds sing outside, heard from the street.

Your dad hums, his beard tickling your scalp as he leans into you in turn, making you chuckle before he nuzzles against you kissing your head; leading to a larger exclamation of glee before you elbow his gut.

He laughs and answers with a smile in his voice.

“Hm, did I tell you ‘bout the time Gaz fell out of the Heli?”

You laugh, eating the rest of the pancake remnants; feeling incredibly happy and warm. There were many memories you loved of your dad and his recounting of stories fit many of them. He always kept out the gory bits – promising himself that he would never lead you down that path no matter what – and always opted for the many downright hilarious situations the rest of the 141 always seemed to get into.

“Yes, but tell me again. It’s funny, especially when you describe his face afterward! Like he–”

“Like he had shit his pants and didn’t want to tell me,” John chuckles, eyes squinted, looking down at you as you snuggle into his side. He wraps an arm over your shoulders, taking your empty plate with one hand and putting it on the side table before pulling you close and making sure his tea won’t spill. He feels your tiny, bird-like, heartbeat on his ribcage and knows that nothing could ever take you away from him. You would always be his little girl. “Yeah, Love, I remember that one. Now, let me start from the beginning…”

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yukidragon · 6 months ago

Text

Sunny Day Jack - Growing Old Together

I've been trying to encourage myself to write more on impulse rather than get stuck in my head so much. Soooo, when this particular thread on twitter popped up about an older Joseph aging like fine wine and snuggling up to his sunshine in the morning, I got inspired.

This is an off the cuff first-draft drabble that might be a bit rough. There's some hints of spice to it, but mostly it's just marshmallow fluff about Joseph and Mary in an AU where they were able to grow old together and have their happy ending. (Unlike the main timeline.) I hope you enjoy this peek into what might have been.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

...

The house felt so big and empty after the kids moved out, all grown up now and living their own lives. It took Mary time to get used to the quiet after so many years filled with the sound of children shouting and laughing.

The past decades passed by so quickly with days that were long, but years that ultimately were so painfully short.

The passage of time made Mary all the more thankful that Joseph had been with her throughout it all. He was still here with her, just like he promised so many years ago.

Sometimes in the quiet, Mary remembered the incident from 40 years ago, the gunman that almost took the stars from her sky. It was a miracle that the bullet merely grazed its target. What remained was a scar on weathered skin that left a notch in a hairline that now had more gray hair than brown. She traced and kissed that scar countless times while thanking God that it, and a scary memory, were all that were left behind that day. She did it again now, just the lightest touch of her lips against his marred skin so as not to rouse her beloved husband from his slumber.

The thoughts weren’t exactly sad, but they held enough of a somber edge that Mary couldn’t get back to sleep despite the early hour. Usually she and Joseph slept in late ever since they retired and the kids left for college, but not this morning. These were the sort of thoughts that she knew by now could fester if she remained idle.

It was a shame to leave the warmth of their bed and the big, strong arms that held her so close, but Mary couldn’t bring herself to wake Joseph. He looked so tranquil, the wrinkles on his face just a little smoother. His breaths came slow and steady, a gentle background noise to the otherwise quiet morning.

With some regret, Mary slipped free of her husband’s arms with practiced ease. The hardest part was stretching out the stiffness in her muscles without making a noise. It seemed like every year she found a new ache that slowed her down and made it even harder to get started in the morning.

Yet, there was an undercurrent of triumph in observing evidence of the passage of time. Every wrinkle and silver hair and ache that showed her age was a reminder that she was still living far beyond that damned expiration date she had been given so many years ago.

Take that, Dr. Wheiz! Mary thought with a vindictive smile. She would outlive that stupid pediatrician yet!

Still, Mary tried to redirect her thoughts away from the shadow of death that had so nearly taken her or her beloved husband. They were alive, and she wanted to focus on living.

What better way to do that than by making a nice, tasty breakfast?

The kitchen was far enough away from their bedroom that Mary could risk playing some music at a low volume, a nice jaunty tune to help her wake up. It was a shame that the radio stations’ definition of “oldies” was pop songs from the start of the millennium, but the tablet her eldest gifted her for her birthday had plenty of her favorite music loaded up and ready to let her relive a little nostalgia.

Mary let herself get lost in her work, idly humming along to the chorus as she swayed her hips a little from side to side. Measuring, mixing, and watching the little disks turn a beautiful golden brown in the sizzling pan recentered her thoughts to focus on the delicious meal she would soon be enjoying with the best company she could ever ask for.

A pair of large hands stilled her swaying hips, and Mary jumped, just a little, before a wry chuckle escaped her. She allowed herself to be pulled back into the broad chest she knew so well. Joseph was softer than he was in his prime, especially around the middle, but that just made him the perfect pillow to snuggle into.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Joseph said around a yawn as he nuzzled into his wife’s shoulder. His voice was thick with sleep and deeper than usual, sending a shiver down her spine when he spoke so close to her ear.

“Good morning, Starlight,” Mary said as she turned her head to plant a kiss on her husband’s cheek. His stubble lightly scratched her skin where he brushed against her, a bit ticklish and a bit sharp, but not an unpleasant sensation.

“What’s for breakfast?” Joseph asked before he gave a kiss in return on her neck. He smiled against her skin as he felt her shiver a little, and he kissed her again to enjoy another.

“Pancakes,” Mary said. “And maybe some eggs and bacon while I’ve got the skillet out.”

Joseph nuzzled into his wife’s mostly silver hair, planting kisses among the soft strands. He wasn’t quite awake yet, still clinging to the sweet dreamy haze he woke up in. “Mmm… sounds good. Blueberry?”

“Maybe,” Mary said with a teasing note to her voice. “Or maybe we can change things up a little. How do chocolate chip pancakes sound?”

A quiet grunt escaped Joseph, and Mary could easily imagine his pouty look from the way he grumbled into her hair. “Not as good as blueberry.”

Mary giggled as she slid the pancake she had just finished onto a plate. “Now, now, you don’t need to sound so disappointed. Sometimes it’s good to switch things up a little.”

Joseph made a wordless sound of disapproval at the back of his throat as he slid his arms around her middle and rested his chin atop her head. It was a toothless protest, and Mary knew it.

“No one makes better blueberry pancakes than you do,” Joseph said, his voice a low rumble that Mary could feel run through her entire body due to their closeness. “Remember what I told you? I could eat your blueberry pancakes every day for the rest of my life.”

Mary shivered at the sound of his voice and the way his large hands idly rubbed circles along her stomach. The motion wasn’t intended to be seductive, just an idle appreciation for the softness of her body, but even after all these years Joseph had a way of sparking that special heat inside of her like no one else could.

“You’re in luck then,” Mary said with a slightly shaky breath, dropping the tease from her tone. “Because that’s what I’m making.” With that she made a show of drawing a ladle full of batter, scooping in as many big ripe blueberries as she could, and drizzling it into the pan with a satisfying sizzle.

Joseph blinked before a chuckle escaped him as his sleepy mind caught up with his wife’s little game. He tilted his head to rub his cheek along the top of her head, drawing her just that little bit closer into him. “You really know how to spoil me, Sunshine.” He sighed deeply, his warm breath stirring shiny errant strands of her hair. “Mary… I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Joseph,” Mary said as she reached up to stroke his cheek. She savored the contours of his jawline that had softened with age, the pleasant prickle of stubble that trailed all the way down his neck. Most of all, she enjoyed the pleased hum he made at her touch and the way he tried to nuzzle into both her hand and hair all at the same time. “More than anyone else in the world.”

Joseph sighed, content, as he savored the warmth that radiated from his sunshine nestled so cozy and close in his arms. The music changed from some upbeat tune to something slower, a bit jazzy. He swayed to the easy rhythm, turning their embrace into almost a slow dance.

Mary enjoyed the feeling for a moment, but let out a chuckle when she found it a challenge to flip the pancake neatly. “Starlight, love of my life, apple of my eye, my dearest wish come true… you know I love you, but it’s a bit difficult to cook like this.”

Joseph closed his eyes as he rested his cheek atop his wife’s head, his body still rocking with hers in time to the music. “Mm hmm?”

A small chuckle escaped Mary. “So as much as I love you holding me so close, maybe you should step back for a bit, hmm?”

Joseph let out a thoughtful hum as he took a moment to consider the proposition, before finally burying his face into her hair. “Nah. Let’s stay like this a bit longer.”

Mary couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh come on.”

“I’m staying where it’s nice and cozy,” Joseph said teasingly before burying his face into her neck. “So warm…”

Mary shivered at the feeling of his breath, his lips, and the scruff along his skin brushing along her neck. Though the smell of sweet pancakes filled the air, she couldn’t help but focus on her husband’s scent, a heady musk that still had a bit of smokiness to it even long after he quit smoking before the kids were born. She couldn’t help but turn a little bit more towards him to breathe him in, the scent of home. “Joseph…”

“Five more minutes,” Joseph said, his voice a low, throaty murmur that vibrated through her skin. “Just five more minutes…”

Mary shook her head a little as she let out a wry chuckle, both at her husband’s familiar clinginess and how quickly she always caved to his needy pleas. “Okay, five-”

“No, wait,” Joseph said quickly. “Ten more minutes. I want ten more minutes like this.”

“Oh come on,” Mary mock groaned as she rolled her eyes towards her husband. “You really are spoiled, aren’t you?”

“I can’t help it,” Joseph chuckled before he stole a kiss from his sunshine’s lips. “You’ve thoroughly spoiled me rotten, Sunshine, and this dog is too old to learn any new tricks now.”

“What have I done?” Mary asked with theatrical dismay as she turned her eyes towards the ceiling and made dramatic sweeping gestures in the air with her spatula. “I’ve turned my sweet puppy husband into a koala bear! Now we’re stuck like this forever.”

Joseph couldn’t help but laugh at his wife’s antics and smirked smugly as he rested his chin atop her head again. “That’s right, Sunspot. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me forever and ever and ever. Nothing’s ever going to pull us apart.”

“Not even… pancakes with chocolate chips?” Mary asked, adding an overly dramatic emphasis to her words.

Joseph let out a sufficiently horrified gasp. When Mary tried to squirm away, reaching for the refrigerator, he snatched her by the wrist and pulled her back towards him. “Oh no you don’t, Sunspot!”

The hold on her was firm, but Mary knew it was still breakable. She could wriggle free if she really wanted. No matter how tightly Joseph held her, he always allowed her to slip away whenever she needed to. No matter how many times he restrained her with his large hands, his bulky body, or even some silk ties, she never felt scared or trapped. He always had a way of making her feel safe, secure, and loved. She knew that if she really wanted him to let her go or step back to give her space, he would, even if he might pout a little doing so.

But she didn’t. In the end, Mary could never resist Joseph when he was clingy and needy like this. She could put up a token resistance, try to escape, but she could never resist the excitement of having him chase after her. The way he pawed at her body as she squirmed against him made her feel like they were in their twenties again, young, in love, and horny as hell for one another.

Mary continued to squirm against her husband, twisting her body around in his grasp as she made for the fridge, before gasping as Joseph kissed the sensitive inside of her wrist. He gazed deeply into her eyes as he took the time to mark a trail down her arm, his tongue occasionally flicking across her soft skin. He took advantage of the way his burning gaze pinned her in place to grind his hips into hers, and she could feel the hardness starting to grow against her.

“Fuck, Mary…,” Joseph groaned against her skin, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine that settled between her legs where he rubbed himself against her, turning into a delicious heat that had her arching into him. “Keep that up, and I’ll be having you for breakfast instead of blueberry pancakes.”

Mary felt a thrill run through her as she saw the hunger in her husband’s eyes. Even after all these years together and all the unflattering ways time had changed her body, the fact that Joseph could still look at her like that always left her breathless.

Time changed Joseph as well, but she enjoyed snuggling into the softness of his once hard edges. The lines at the corners of his eyes were markers of how many times she made him laugh, the ones around his mouth a testament to his countless bright and beautiful smiles.

They made a life together. It wasn’t perfect, and sometimes there were stormy days that cast a shadow over them, but they always managed to find a way to keep each other warm. The fire of love and passion still burned between them, as brilliant and beautiful as it always had been.

Unfortunately, the smell of smoke wound up interrupting the steamy moment. Mary yelped and quickly scrambled to get the burnt pancake onto a plate before it could char further.

“Oops,” Joseph yelped as he straightened up to allow Mary greater ease of movement. “I guess I should’ve stuck with five minutes after all.” He rubbed the back of his neck, giving her a sheepish look. “Sorry.”

Mary shot Joseph with a reproachful gaze. “How about we save dessert until after breakfast, okay?”

“Right,” Joseph chuckled awkwardly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take that one. Even burnt pancakes still taste good when they’re made with love.” He threw in a wink and a cheeky smile. “That’s why you taste so good after all.”

“Joseph!” Mary squealed as though scandalized. “You’re incorrigible!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Joseph laughed as he held up his hands in mock surrender. His expression softened as he gave her a tender smile and reached out to cup her cheek. “I just can’t help it when I’m with you, Mary.”

Mary leaned into his palm and whatever annoyance she felt melted away like butter on a hot skillet. It was impossible for her to hold onto any negative thoughts or feelings for long when she was with Joseph. With him around, the bad times weren’t as hard to handle, and the good times were even more wonderful. She hardly felt the years that seeped into her bones and made them ache. With him, time didn’t matter. They weren’t lonely children or struggling twenty-somethings lost in a vast world anymore, but she didn’t feel old and withered either. All these years allowed them to grow together like two trees twining together, growing strong enough to weather any storm.

“I feel the same way,” Mary murmured. “I love you, Joseph.”

“I love you too, Mary,” Joseph said before he pulled her back into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. When he drew back, he gave her a bright smile. “How about I help you finish cooking breakfast? Two sets of hands are better than one, you know.”

“Okay,” Mary said before flashing her husband a teasing grin. “But let’s try to keep those hands cooking instead of fondling, okay?”

Joseph reached over to take the spatula from Mary. His touch lingered on her fingers, sliding along them and her palm longer than necessary before he relieved her of the utensil. He flashed her a cheeky grin that she knew all too well and loved more and more as the years went on.

“No promises~”

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #My Writing

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1arkspur-aconitum · 4 months ago

Text

DISRUPTIVE (s.r.)

IN WHICH: Juniper Bishop sneaks into the back of one of Spencer’s lectures and pretends to be a student, nearly getting both of them in serious trouble.

PAIRING: Spencer Reid/Fem!BAU!OC

CATEGORY: fluff, fade-to-black smut

CONTENT: established relationship, relentless teasing, hints at smut towards the end, similarly genius character, first person so no use of y/n, 13x16 vibes

WORD COUNT: 10k…

PUBLISHED: 27/09/24

‘—YOU CAN STAY IN BED, you know. I won’t be long.’

The bed sheets are cool across my bare skin, but Spencer’s body is warm. Dazed by sleep, I opt for warmth. Going purely by the sound of his voice, I latch my arms around his shoulders and try to haul him back into the pillowy softness of our bed. Strands of his hair tickle my arms but my attempt spectacularly fails. Whilst my boyfriend does topple a little bit, he also succeeds in sticking a hand out to support himself.

‘June—seriously, darling, I have to go now.’ Spencer chuckles, an exhalation of breath against the shell of my ear. I moan sleepily. Pressing myself to him as best I can, I force my eyes to blink open.

Spencer is kneeling over me and I’m surprised to see that he is not naked—in fact, Spencer Reid has already put his suit trousers on, his favourite white shirt, and his lenses. His face splits into a wide grin when he sees my brow furrow, taking in the unexpected appearance. It’s our day off. Normally we spend our day off nude and lounging around the house. In fact, I’m insulted that he isn’t.

‘What are you doing?’ I grumble, pushing a few stray strands of his hair out of his face as he gazes down at me. The sheets separating us bother me. ‘Why aren’t you naked?’

This earns me a laugh. ‘I told you last night, I have to go to the Academy, I have a lecture.’

Oh, yeah. That’s right. I have a vague Morpheus-marred memory of Spencer mentioning something about being asked to lecture whilst I dozed on the sofa to some documentary about bugs, but I’m pretty sure I chose to not listen. Alas, my tactic of hiding from reality has never been very effective. Especially when it comes to Spencer Reid, the man who remembers literally everything.

I pout, idly scratching my nails across his skull. Spencer’s eyes flutter shut briefly, head leaning into the palms of my hands. Perhaps if I do this enough he will fall back asleep and our day of naked relaxation can continue on as planned. Spencer hums deeply, the sound reverberating through the peaceful quiet of our bedroom. The blinds are still drawn, but the dusty sun slips its fingers around the edge of it, casting sharp lines of light across the duvet.

‘Juniper.’ Spencer says, with a slight moan as he pulls his head back. My hands drop from his hair. He chuckles down at me, big brown eyes impossibly soft. ‘Seriously. The lecture starts in an hour and I have to prepare.’

‘Do you have to go?’ I say, with as much whine as I can muster. He does have to go, it’s not like the lecture will teach itself, but a girl can dream. In an ideal world, Spencer would have already gotten a call from the head of his department to say that he can spend the day with his girlfriend, but he wouldn’t have already gotten nearly fully dressed.

‘Yes, darling,’ Spencer leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. His lips are soft, warm, but the kiss is way too short. ‘I do. I won’t be long, okay? If you roll over now, you’ll probably still be asleep by the time I get back.’

‘You know I don’t like sleeping without you.’ I complain, still pouting, but resigning myself to my terrible fate. Spencer sighs but he’s still smiling. He always does this–pretends to get annoyed with my morning antics, but really, he loves it. Why else would he have woken me up in the first place?

‘I know.’ He kisses my forehead again. ‘I’ll be back before you know it. I love you.’

Spencer goes to move away, off of the bed, but a groan pulls him back. I proffer him my chin, and he swiftly presses a kiss against my lips. It, like the forehead kiss, is way too short. My boyfriend clambers off of the bed and heads towards the wardrobe. Sleepily rolling onto my side, I watch him don his favourite sweater vest and brown blazer through half-open eyes. It doesn’t take him long at all. The only sounds are the soft exhalation of my breathing and the rustle of his clothes.

When he’s dressed and ready, he briefly returns to the side of the bed–his hand is warm across my hair, lips gracing across my cheekbone–before the bedroom door clicks shut. The sounds of him pouring himself a coffee are far off, as if through water. With a sigh, I roll over and bury my face into the pillow that still smells like him.

The front door closes (and locks) barely five minutes later. I am suddenly left in the suffocating quiet of the dark bedroom, wrapped in cold sheets that are incomparable to my lover’s arms, and I feel bereft. This was not how I had planned to spend this morning.

I swear, I do my best to try and fall back asleep. I toss and turn to get myself comfortable. Take deep, steady, box-breaths. Tense my muscles and relax them one by one. Fuck, I even count a varying array of barnyard animals–sheep, cows, donkeys–but none of them help. Unfortunately, it seems as if I am well and truly awake. Awake and bored as hell.

When I look at the clock, only fifteen minutes have passed since Spencer left.

‘Fucking stupid lectures.’ I plaster a frown onto my face as I clamber out of bed, letting my bare feet sink into the soft carpet. The room is freezing so I grab one of Spencer’s discarded Cal-Tech shirts. The cotton slips over my bare skin. ‘Stupid. Why today?’

I pad into the living room to make myself a coffee. Whilst I’m awake, I may as well caffeinate myself. Spencer has left out my favourite mug already for me–the bright yellow Kiss the Librarian mug I’ve had for years–and the coffee pot has been topped up. As always. Pouring myself a steaming cup, I start to meander around our living space.

Evidence of our Chinese takeaway litter the coffee table. The cardboard boxes are partially open, chopsticks protruding from mine, Spencer’s neatly closed. All of the spring rolls were demolished last night, but the tub with my veggie chow mein has mysteriously vanished–probably into the fridge. The sofa is a mess of blankets, Spencer’s plaid shirt tossed casually over the arm. A stack of books teeters precariously on the side table. Spencer insists on having a grace period between stack and shelf, though I think it’s so he can look at his purchases before filing them away.

I really had tried to stay awake last night but David Attenborough always lulls me into some strange stupor. Somehow Spencer managed to keep himself alert throughout the entire documentary, occasionally nudging me when something interesting came up. His near-insatiable desire to learn has always been voracious, even when it’s about the mating habits of dung-beetles. It’s the reason why I love him so much. He has such passion it’s hard not to be passionate with him.

As I finish the dregs of my coffee, my eye finds its way to the clock. An idea enters my mind.

Safe to say, I wouldn’t be bored any more…

The FBI Academy is barely a ten minute drive on Maple, her engine rumbling securely underneath me. Considering the Academy (and most of Quantico) is deep within Lunga Park, I only have to zip through the main traffic in the centre of town before the wide, open road through the forest opens up for me. Maple rips through the air, my body hunched over her fuel tank. There is nothing more freeing than opening up that throttle. God, I need to bike more.

I arrive at the Academy car park with about five minutes to spare, hurriedly shrugging out of my leather riding suit. The cool morning air nips at my exposed skin as I struggle with the stubborn zipper, drawing curious glances from a few passing students. Their eyes linger on my battle with the brown material, but I don’t have time for explanations or small talk. Not when time is ticking.

Yanking my bag out of Maple’s panniers, I swiftly shove the suit and helmet back in its place, double checking that everything is secure. Taking a deep, steady breath, I begin to jog gently after the students. My FBI badge allows me access to the Academy and before long, I am navigating familiar hallways. Muscle memory truly is a spectacular thing–it’s been years since I’ve been in this part of the Academy, and yet I know exactly where to go.

My heart races with a mixture of anticipation and nervous energy the closer I get to the lecture hall. Each measured step brings a soft tap of my pleated skirt against my bare thighs, a rhythmic counterbalance to the quickness of my breathing. Spencer’s favourite green sweater, hastily tucked into the hem of my skirt, provides a comforting familiarity. It smells like his cologne. I’ve yanked the collar of my shirt out over the crewneck of the jumper, adding a touch of polish to my hastily (yet calculatedly) crafted outfit. Paired with my favourite brown boots and a messy ponytail, I’m pretty confident I will blend seamlessly with the rest of the students. A mischievous smile finds its way to my lips as I imagine Spencer’s reaction.

Hopefully he won’t spot me right away and ruin my fun.

I slow down when I reach the right corridor, keeping an eye on the brass numbers hammered into the doors. Stopping outside the correct one, I can hear my pulse thumping through my ears. I take a deep breath. I take a moment to compose myself before peeking through the small glass window in the door. The room is already filled with students arranged on tiered seating. Their attention is focused downwards, to a raised platform at the front of the room. There, commanding the space, is Spencer.

His back is to the door as he scribbles notes on the whiteboard. As usual, his handwriting is near illegible, a messy mixture of capitals and lower cases. For a genius, you’d think he would care more about the grammatical errors, but I suppose even perfect people have to have flaws. From the flow of his words and the attentive posture of 95% of the students, it’s clear that the lecture is already in full swing.

Balls. I am later than I’d hoped.

Steeling myself, I grasp the door handle, easing it open with painstaking care. As quietly as physically possible, I slip through the narrow opening, my movements slow and deliberate. The click of the door closing is thankfully masked by Spencer’s voice. It fills the room with an authority I have learnt to love and a passion I have always adored. He’s deep in a discussion about the differences between a stressor and a trigger, his words punctuated by the occasional squeak of his whiteboard pen.

Within seconds of being inside the room, I have identified the perfect inconspicuous spot. There, in the furthest corner of the back row, a seat is mostly marred by shadows. With a stealth only possible after years of field experience, I make my way to the seat, settling as quietly as possible. Spencer has yet to turn around. Mission successful.

Crossing my legs, I let my bag settle at my feet, leaning forwards to observe my brilliant boyfriend in his element. A warmth blooms in my chest as I listen to him talk so passionately about the topic, a mixture of pride, adoration, and just a hint of mischievous anticipation for the moment he finally clocks me.

I reach into my bag just as he turns around. My heart stutters against my ribcage.

I freeze, hoping the shadows will be enough to hide me. Spencer, however, barely breaks stride in his lecture. He scans the room once, methodically sweeping over his enraptured audience. I hold my breath as his gaze passes near my hiding spot, but to my relief, he doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Spencer continues pacing, circling around the edge of his desk as he continues his impassioned speech. His hands move as animatedly as ever, punctuating key points with a flourish, with gestures that draw everyone’s attention.

That familiar small smile–the one I have affectionately dubbed the ‘I’m being a nerd’ smile–plays out on the corners of his lips, a testament to how much he enjoys teaching. It’s wonderful to see him smile. Ever since he left the prison, it’s been harder to coax it out of him.

As the fear of being spotted abates, I allow myself to relax. As quietly as possible, I rummage around in my bag, searching for a specific thing. With a triumphant–yet silent–‘aha’, I retrieve my favourite treat. A cherry flavoured lollipop about the size of a tin of Vaseline. I nearly always have one in my bag for emergencies.

Unwrapping it carefully to avoid any telltale crinkling sounds, I pop the lollipop into my mouth. The burst of artificial cherry flavour makes me salivate. A wave of childish glee washes over me as I continue to suck on the lollipop, watching Spencer pace back and forth. I wonder if he can hear the faint pop as I roll the treat around my mouth. The sticky sweetness is a stark contrast to the sterile lecture hall air. It’s a small, miniscule act of rebellion. A secret pleasure I am indulging in right under his nose. The longer Spencer remains oblivious to me, the more the thrill increases. I am playing a game with him and for now, I am winning.

Spencer is currently gesticulating about the psychological impacts of prolonged stress on an Unsub’s decision-making process, which is actually very interesting. He’s so engrossed in it that it’s hard not to pay attention to him. There is something about Spencer actually lecturing that is really hot. It might be the authority and power he holds over the room, or the endearing way he tries to keep everyone engaged, or it might simply be that the collar of his shirt is undone and I can see the smooth planes of his throat. Either way, I can’t drag my eyes off of him.

It is only when he poses a question to the whole class that I remember this lecture is not for my benefit alone.

Spencer’s question about undue stress and sleep patterns hangs in the air and I find myself already formulating an answer. My fingers itch to be raised, but I catch myself. I’m not supposed to be a participant; I’m meant to be invisible. Suppressing a chuckle, I sink further into my uncomfortable lecture seat, savouring the sweet irony of my predicament–and the sweetness of my lollipop.

A few hands shoot up amongst the congregation before me, one of them even vibrating with excitement, but Spencer’s gaze sweeps over them. There’s a familiar hint of amusement in his eye, the one that I always see before he tackles me to the bed. The look that tells me he knows he’s in control of the situation. He’s scouring the faces carefully, starting at the front row and skipping over those who already have their hands up.

When Dr. Spencer Reid finally spots me, his entire demeanour shifts. His usually water-fluid movements come to an abrupt halt, as if someone has just paused a lecture video or stalled a car. Those warm, intelligent brown eyes of his lock onto mine, widening slightly as recognition ploughs into him. His eyebrows lift in a momentary micro-expression of surprise, a tell-tale sign that I have genuinely caught him off guard.

Mission complete.

His beautiful mouth parts and I catch a glimpse of teeth, the hint of a surprised intake of breath. The corners of his lips twitch, fighting between maintaining his professional composure and breaking into a smile. I cannot help but grin back, lollipop nestled in my cheek. My heart continues to beat a dangerous rhythm against my ribcage as I wait to see what he does, how he recovers. The air between us crackles with unspoken words, a silent exchange that speaks volumes in the midst of a crowded lecture hall.

For a brief moment, time seems to stand still. The rest of the room fades away, leaving just me and my boyfriend, caught in this unexpected moment of connection. I can almost hear the gears turning in that beautiful mind of his, no doubt already formulating theories as to why I am there. He correctly assumes that because I didn’t interrupt the lecture, it is not for official business.

Then, it’s over.

Spencer looks away. Turns to someone with their hand up and continues on with his lecture. As if I wasn’t even there. If it wasn’t for the frequent amused glances he sends up my way, I would think he was upset that I crashed his lecture.

The lecture continues, heading towards it’s close, and I find myself increasingly engrossed. Not just in Spencer’s words, but in the subtle dance of our secret interactions. Every time he looks at me, my skin heats, as if I’m seventeen and in love again. I cannot help but wonder what will happen when he finishes the lecture, and how he plans to address it. If he scolds me, or tells me he wants me to come to all of his lectures. Admittedly, both sound appealing.

It’s clear this game of cat and mouse is affecting him too–the way he subtly shifts his weight towards me, lingering more on my side of the lecture theatre than the other, the slight tremor in his voice as he continues to ask questions to the students. It’s as if he’s trying to reconcile the professor with the loving boyfriend, and the conflict is absolutely adorable.

As the lecture reaches a natural stopping point, I find myself leaning forward. The lollipop is significantly smaller on the pit of my tongue, but no less flavourful. There’s something about the way Spencer presents his desire to share knowledge that is incredibly alluring. I can’t help but feel a certain smugness that I am the one who gets to see him like this every single day, get to see him at his most vulnerable. His most authentic.

‘You’re probably gonna want to write this down,’ Spencer announces, gesturing towards someone in the mid rows. When he continues to talk, he slips his hands into his pockets in a movement that really shouldn’t be sexy, but totally is. ‘I shouldn’t be telling you guys this, but I’m definitely putting this on the final.’

‘I’m…I’m only auditing this class.’ A young female voice snaps me out of daydreaming about Spencer’s hands, and I shift in my seat to get a better look. Admittedly, I can only see the back of her head, but her long brown hair is pretty. She tucks it behind her ear as she ducks her head to Spencer. I can practically hear the broad smile on her face.

Spencer frowns slightly. ‘Is anyone else auditing this class?’

To my absolute glee, approximately fifteen more hands shoot up in response to Spencer’s question. As I scan the room, I notice a striking pattern–all of these raised hands belong to young women. The realisation hits me like a wave of mirth, and I have to clap a hand over my mouth to stifle a giggle. Most of these ‘auditing’ students don’t even have the pretence of a notebook in front of them for notes. One particularly enraptured girl has her chin propped on her hand, her eyes fixed on Spencer with a vacant, faraway look that speaks volumes.

You don’t have to be a profiler to realise that these young women are not here for the intricacies of criminal psychology, nor the nuances of prolonged stress. No, their motivations are far more…aesthetic in nature. They–like me, I suppose–are here to bask in the presence of Dr. Spencer Reid, to drink in his every word and movement like fine wine. It is a testament to Spencer’s obliviousness to his own appeal that he doesn’t seem to grasp the situation.

He has his adorably confused expression as he surveys the room, a clear indicator that he has no idea the effect a handsome lecturer can have on students.

I force myself to continue sucking on my lollipop to stop the laughter. This is absurd. My brilliant, gorgeous, genius of a boyfriend is completely oblivious to the small fan club he has inadvertently created. These girls are fawning over him. Pride shoots through me, quickly chased by unwarranted jealousy. Yes, I will be the first person to say that Spencer is one of the most attractive people I have ever laid eyes on, but these girls only see that. They have no idea the depths of his intellect, his kindness, the small quirks that make him Spencer. They’re captivated by the surface, whilst I have the luck and privilege of knowing (and loving) him as a whole.

‘Okay.’ Spencer says, obviously disarmed, and quickly checks his watch. ‘Unfortunately, that is all the time we have for today. Thank you, guys.’

The class erupts into a chorus of disappointed groans, a few of the girls even going so far as to plead with Spencer for more time. It’s almost comical how they hang onto his every word, as if he were some kind of famous rock star rather than FBI profiler. The smile I have had on my face since the auditing question only grows–I can’t blame them, I mean, I was no better when I first met him. Spencer has that effect on people.

Students begin to file out of the lecture hall. I slowly clamber to my feet, slinging my bag over my shoulder, and twisting my lollipop. It clacks against my teeth. I watch, amused, as the girls who raised their hand start to form a vague queue to his desk. Spencer has been surrounded. When it becomes evident that they’re not going to disperse any time soon, I make my way down the tiered seating to join them.

I become a silent observer in the sea of admirers, the girls as jittery and nervous as I am. When I reach the edge of the group, I tuck myself in amongst them, remembering how it felt to be at college and drunk on the idea of impossible love. With my head ducked down, I angle an ear to listen.

‘Dr. Reid, your lecture was amazing,’ one of the girls gushes, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. She’s on the raised platform with a couple of cronies, dressed in some very short shorts and a jacket. ‘I don’t think I have ever been so captivated by a topic before.’

Spencer chuckles, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. ‘Thank you. I’m glad you found it interesting.’

‘Interesting?’ Another girl chimes in, her eyes fixed on Spencer with an intensity that borders on predatory. ‘It was more than interesting–in fact, some might call it inspiring.’

I bite back a laugh, the lollipop nearly falling from my mouth. These girls are laying it on thick and my poor Spencer seems utterly bewildered by the attention. He spares a brief glance back up to where I was sitting and I’m slightly pleased to see a glimmer of disappointment in his eye.

‘Do you think that’s a new suit?’ Someone whispers near me, and I turn to look.

‘I don’t think we’ve seen the blazer before.’ It’s a pair of girls, huddled together a bit further away from the dias. One has hair of white blonde, falling in sheets around her face. She’s all wide angles and broad lines, and is absolutely gorgeous. She’s clutching the arm of a smaller girl with frizzy brown hair and purple glasses, more diminutive but no less attractive. ‘Ugh, it suits him though, doesn’t it?’

‘I think anything suits him.’ Purple Glasses gushes back, angling her head at my boyfriend. I can’t deny the thrill of hearing these girls fawn over my boyfriend. It’s a validation of my own feelings, a reminder of just how lucky I am that Spencer Reid was in my bed barely three hours earlier. ‘I mean, look at him.’

‘I know,’ I say, matching their tone and sidling up a little closer. I make sure to keep my eyes wide and mimic their adoring expressions. They glance at me. Look me up and down. I feel as if I am lining up for the firing squad. Thankfully it doesn’t take them long before they relax again. I have been deemed just another student. ‘Isn’t he dreamy?’

‘He’s by far the sexiest of all the lecturers.’ Blondie opens her body language to me, accepts me into their circle. I can feel Spencer’s eyes boring into my head, but from the sounds of it, he is still being inundated with questions from the girls. ‘No wonder so many people are auditing.’

Purple Glasses nods enthusiastically.

‘I just love his hands.’ I purr, twisting my lollipop in my mouth. The other two send me ‘omg tell me about it’ expressions, so I do. ‘The veins, the fingers. It’s almost so distracting I can’t focus.’

‘I know. He doesn’t wear a wedding ring, so we don’t think he’s married.’ Purple Glasses ducks her head towards me and I glance over at Spencer. He sends a glare in my direction, but I simply brush it aside. Hard luck.

‘I think you’re right,’ I murmur, the three of us conspirators. We share a knowing look, revelling in our shared secret. Part of me feels guilty, but most of me is having way too much fun to stop. ‘I’m gonna keep auditing this class if he keeps looking so damn good.’

‘I’m totally with you on that one.’ Purple Glasses gushes.

Spencer has managed to deflect some of the girls, a few of them giggling as they head towards the exit, but he has been surrounded by some more. It’s as if they wait in packs to ask him questions, and from the few snippets that I catch, hardly any of them are even related to the topic at hand. He feels me looking and sends a glare in our direction. In the few seconds that our eyes lock, I quirk a mischievous eyebrow.

‘Oh my God, I think he’s looking at you.’ Blondie hisses, grabbing onto my arm and hiding behind me. I do my best not to laugh, pressing my lips together into a firm line around the stick of my sweet.

‘Do you think he heard us?’ Purple Glasses whispers with wide, fearful eyes. I manage to not roll my eyes–Spencer is hyper tuned into me right now, there’s no way he can’t make an educated guess as to what we’re talking about.

‘I don’t know,’ I say, trying to keep the amusement from my voice and failing. I risk a glance at Spencer and am rewarded with a pointed glare. Apparently he’s not a massive fan of me pretending to be a student. ‘He probably thinks we’re being weird.’

‘We are being weird.’ Blondie replies, but there is no malice in her voice. In fact, she gives my arm a reassuring squeeze and a smile.

‘I don’t care.’ Purple Glasses shrugs. ‘He’s hot.’

‘So hot.’

It is at this exact moment that Spencer, evidently reaching the limits of his patience, decides that he has had enough. With a deliberate and resounding clearing of his throat that startles me and causes the flock of girls to scatter a little, he strategically manoeuvres himself. By putting the desk between himself and the persistent gaggle of admirers, Spencer creates a physical barrier that subtly but effectively identifies his need for space. His body language shifts, and when he speaks next, he addresses the group as a whole.

‘I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to answer any more questions at this time,’ he announces, tone firm but not unkind. His words are met with a chorus of disappointed groans from those still eagerly awaiting their turn. Spencer’s gaze sweeps across the group, making eye contact with each student in turn, though I notice he pointedly avoids mine. ‘I’m going to have to ask you all to leave. I have work to do.’

The girls grumble amongst themselves, their disappointment as malleable as putty in the air. Amidst their reluctant shuffling, I dramatically clap a hand to my chest, a silent question for Spencer and Spencer alone. His ocher eyes meet mine. His expression is inscrutable but somehow speaks volumes. You don’t have to be a genius to work out what I am trying to say: do you want me to leave too?

His response, when it comes, is succinct and leaves very little to communication.

‘Not. You.’ He enunciates each word with the utmost care. When the girls look to see who he is talking to, there is no doubt. Spencer’s eyes do not stray from mine, effectively singling me out from the departing crowd.

‘Oh my God.’ Blondie whispers in my ear. Her voice is a trembling combination of excitement and disbelief as the rest of the girls start to file out. I do not miss the dirty glares a few of them send my way. Blondie’s fingers dig into my skin, her wide eyes flickering between me and Spencer. ‘Oh my God. I am so jealous.’

‘Good luck.’ Purple Glasses says as she walks past me, her face a visage of awe and envy. ‘He’s never asked someone to stay behind like that before.’

‘Count me the lucky one.’ I breathe, barely sparing them a glance—I only look back once to find Blondie giving me one last lingering look before she follows Purple Glasses. Another small pang of guilt spears through me for deceiving these girls, but the thrill of this little game has far outweighed any remorse I might have.

The door closes and it is finally just me and Spencer.

‘You are supposed to be in bed.’ Spencer breaks the silence, stepping around his desk and approaching the edge of the dais. I have to tilt my head back to look at him, but there’s no hiding the shit-eating grin I flash his way. I flutter my lashes like a schoolgirl and he fights back a smile. My boyfriend doesn’t seem that upset at me, which I will take as a win.

‘But, Dr. Reid, how could I miss your lecture? I need it for my college credit, you know.’ I tease, unable to stop myself. ‘It truly was inspiring, as some might say.’

I take his offered hand and Spencer helps me up onto the platform. He looks amused as he ghosts a kiss to the back of my knuckles.

‘You already have a degree—several, in fact.’ He reminds me, clearly attempting to sound exasperated and failing spectacularly.

‘So? Perhaps I felt like auditing.’ I pull away from him and sidle over to his desk. Leaning back against the oak, I make no attempt to hide how much I am relishing every moment. ‘Seems like a lot of people—I’m sorry, girls—had the same idea.’

‘What are you doing here?’ Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair and taking a step after me. His eyes trail down my outfit, to where the little pleated skirt has hitched itself around my arse. Spencer swallows.

‘I was bored.’ I shrug, crossing my legs at the ankles. Spencer’s eye dips lower. My grin widens. The lollipop is nearly finished so I crunch it between my teeth loudly. His eyes narrow playfully, now focused on where the stick twists between my pursed lips.

‘Bored?’ He repeats, raising an eyebrow and taking another step towards me. Spencer’s broad frame starts to dominate my view. ‘So you decided to crash my lecture, dressed like that, and pretend to be a student?’

‘Hey, at least I can still pass for early twenties.’

‘June.’

‘What can I say?’ I laugh, reaching out a free hand to thumb the lapel of his jacket. Tilting my head to the side, I allow myself free reign to check him out. He’s all fine lines and a firm frown, sharp angles that compliment each other so well. I could look at Spencer Reid all day and not get bored. The students are right—he is delicious. ‘I wanted to see you in action.’

‘You didn’t have to pretend for that.’ Spencer closes the distance between us, one of his hands brushing naughtily up my bare thigh.

‘In my defence, I didn’t come here with the intention of being a student.’ I grip his wrist and yank it away from where his fingers are now idly playing with the hem of my skirt. Spencer quirks an eyebrow. It’s rare for me to stop such an intimate touch. ‘It just kind of…happened.’

‘Mmhmm.’ He doesn’t believe me in the slightest.

‘Oh, come on, Spence.’ I straighten the collar of his shirt, still looking up at him from under my lashes. My fingers brush the column of his throat. ‘How could I resist? They were all fawning over you, I wanted to do that too.’

‘They weren’t fawning—’

‘Oh, Dr. Reid, please keep talking, I don’t think I’ve ever been so captivated,’ I pitch my voice up, making it soft and breathy, and he narrows his eyes again. ‘Oh, please, Dr. Reid, give me extra credit, I’d love to help you with your research.’

‘Juniper.’

‘Don’t ‘Juniper’ me.’ I grin, standing up so our chests are pressed together. Spencer peers down at me, wetting his lips with his tongue. He leans in. Before our lips meet, I dance away, putting the desk between us. Spencer scoffs in annoyance. ‘You can’t seriously tell me you don’t realise how fucking sexy you are when you’re being a nerd?’

‘I’m not a nerd.’

‘Yes you are, Spencer, we’ve covered this topic before.’

‘I’m teaching, it’s different.’

‘No, it’s not—you’re still a nerd, you’re just being paid for it.’ I lean against the desk, hands splayed wide. ‘Besides, I never said it was a bad thing. I love it when you’re a nerd—didn’t you hear what I said?’

‘They could have been interested in criminal psychology, you know.’ Spencer mirrors my movement, leaning on the opposite side of the desk. I can feel his warmth from here.

‘Only if criminal psychology is being taught by you.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Spencer insists, shaking his head. It makes his curls bounce.

‘Oh, come on, you remember what it was like to have a crush on a lecturer—fuck, I mean, I practically dominated Dr. Traver’s office hours when I was doing my PhD.’

‘I was fourteen in college.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ I put on my best innocent smile. ‘Well, then, what about your first crush? The rush of feelings, the ‘oh my god she looked at me!’ thing? The ‘oh, did she just touch me and if she did, did she mean it?’ thing?’

Spencer opens his mouth to reply, but pauses. His eyes glimmer with amusement. He straightens up, pushing his hands into his pocket, and angles his head. I feel as if I am a piece of artwork on a wall and Spencer is trying to decide if he likes me or not. My confidence wanes just a smidge. I push my shoulders back and try to bring the armour back over me, folding my arms across my chest.

‘I remember.’ Is all he offers, inclining his head. ‘I was like that with you.’

I’m touched. I bite my lip to stop my smile getting too wide. ‘You’re sweet. But you see what I mean, right?’

‘Alright, yes, fine.’ Spencer relents, rolling his eyes. He reaches out a hand and I move around the desk, a magnet pulled towards another. ‘Maybe they don’t have as much of an interest in the subject matter as I would hope.’

‘I mean, I can’t blame them.’ I let him take my hand, let him pull me closer to him. Spencer chuckles softly, hooking an arm around my waist and tucking me perfectly into the space between him and the desk. I slide my hands up underneath his blazer. ‘You really are the hottest lecturer I’ve seen.’

‘If this was a research study, you’d have an undeniable bias.’ Spencer pushes some of my hair away from my face, cold fingers trailing down the back of my neck. I shiver. He smirks.

‘So…’ I murmur into the small space between us. ‘Are you going to invite me to all of your lectures now? Or will I have to do this again?’

‘Don’t push your luck.’ Spencer retorts, voice firmer than it was before. ‘This could have gotten me into serious trouble.’

‘What?’ I recoil, frowning up at him. The idea that my (seemingly) harmless fun might cause Spencer a reprimand jars through me. There’s no way that this could cause him to not lecture any more, is there? It’s not like I’m not allowed to go see him teach, I’m part of the FBI for crying out loud.

‘Pretending to be a student? What if someone found out?’ Spencer laughs, using his hold on the nape of my neck to pull me back towards him.

‘You’re just being mean now.’

‘I suppose I’ll just have to keep a closer eye on you.’ Spencer teases me, using his thumb on the hinge of my jaw to angle my face up to him. My traitorous cheeks heat. He is so close he could kiss me at any second. ‘I will admit, seeing you in this little skirt was…quite distracting.’

‘Then it did its job.’ I breathe, wrapping my arms around his neck. My fingers curl in the long hairs I find there. I let a wicked grin spread across my face. ‘Who knew Dr Reid had such a thing for his students.’

‘Juniper.’ Spencer scolds, barking out a stunned laugh as he does so. ‘You can’t say things like that.’

‘I’m a profiler, Spencer, and some might argue a genius when I’m not standing next to you.’ I raise an eyebrow. Spencer purses his lips. He goes to protest but I keep talking. ‘I know how to read your brain. It’s not hard to see you’re hot for school girls.’

‘You are incorrigible.’ His grip on the back of my neck tightens, voice dropping to a husky, deep timbre that ripples through me.

‘And you are not denying it.’

‘Shush.’ Spencer scolds me, dropping a hand from the back of my neck and letting it rest on my hip. Fingers brush the pleats of my skirt. That also wasn’t a denying statement, and a thrill of pleasure at having worked that out pools in the pit of my stomach. He regards me carefully for a few seconds. ‘As nice as it is to see you here, I am kind of sad you’re not still in bed.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘Mmhmm.’ Spencer brushes a kiss to my cheek so that his next words are murmured into my ear. ‘I was thinking of different ways I could wake you up.’

‘And what might those be?’

‘I suppose you’ll never know now.’

‘Spencer.’

‘I’m not the one who decided to crash my lecture and ruin the surprise.’ His nose brushes against mine, lips parted and so dangerously close. Spencer is clearly loving this. He’s got that annoyingly smug smirk on his face and it riles me up. The notion that Spencer had been daydreaming about potential wake-up calls only makes that feeling in the pit of my stomach grow.

‘Well, why don’t you show me anyway?’ I try. Hopefully the temptation will outweigh his desire to punish me for my antics.

‘Nuh-uh.’ Spencer shakes his head, even when my fingernails scrape his skull. ‘You’ve ruined it.’

‘I’ll even wear this skirt.’ I wheedle, rocking up onto my tiptoes so that his fingertips brush the warm backs of my thighs. His eyes flash. Darken. ‘Pretty please?’

‘God,’ he groans, so close that the breath I exhale is the one he breathes in. ‘You’ll be the death of me.’

‘Good.’ I purr, tugging on his curls. I’ve had enough waiting. Hopefully Spencer finally gets the hint.

And he does.

Spencer’s lips crash into mine with a hunger I wasn’t expecting. It speaks to longing, to pent up desire, almost as furious as the first time he ever kissed me. His hands grip the loose hem of my skirt as he pulls me closer to him, as if we are two clay bodies that he wants to become one. I can feel the heat of his skin, and that pool of tension in my stomach only serves to make me want more. He leans over me, forcing me to fold backwards—to stop us toppling over I have to latch on tightly.

Spencer groans against my mouth as he pushes me back into the desk. He’s so demanding, taking up every available thought I have until it is just me and him. I arch into him, desperate for more friction. The desk behind me creaks ominously, his hands sliding dangerously down my bare thighs. His body is a solid wall of heat. Spencer’s fingers dig into my flesh, and I wonder if he’s actually considering fucking me in a lecture hall, and if I’d let him.

Someone clears their throat.

The moment shatters.

Spencer jumps away from me as if burned, lips swollen and raw. I quickly brush my skirt down, flamed with embarrassment, trying to regain some semblance of composure. Our faces are flushed, our breathing heavy, as he turns to the door—there, standing with the look of a deer trapped in headlights, is Blondie.

Fuck.

Her jaw is slack, eyes essentially bugging out of her head as she takes in what must look very suspect. She looks between us, taking in the dishevelled state of our clothing, the heavy pants of our breath. It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots and I physically witness her face march through a series of emotions—shock, disbelief, then crushing disappointment.

‘Oh,’ she breathes, her voice barely a whisper, but the quiet of the auditorium amplifies it. ‘I…I’m so sorry, I left—I didn’t—I’m sorry—’

Spencer, ever the gentleman, tries to salvage the situation. It would work better if his voice wasn’t so breathless. ‘It’s not—she’s not—’

‘It’s okay,’ I take a step forward, ignoring the way Spencer glares at me. I tug on the hem of my skirt, suddenly regretting wearing something so short. ‘It’s not what it looks like, I’m not actually a student here—’

‘Sure.’ Blondie says with as much sarcasm as she can muster. She lifts her backpack onto her shoulder, unable to look either of us in the eye. Her cheeks are a vibrant shade of crimson. The poor girl must be mortified, and I feel somewhat guilty as to putting her in this position. ‘I’m just gonna go. Sorry again.’

With one final lingering look of distrust, Blondie turns around and flees. In her haste, she leaves the door ajar, and we can hear the steady sprint of her footfalls all the way down the corridor.

I can’t help it. I burst into laughter. The tension has dissolved into uncontrollable giggles, and my laughter only increases when I see the mortification on Spencer’s face. He’s staring at the door like he’s seen a ghost, skin pallid and a motley shade of green. I double over, laughter filling the entire space.

‘It’s not funny.’ Spencer says, voice a harsh hiss. He storms towards me and grabs his bag from the floor, slinging it over his shoulder. ‘This could seriously get me into trouble—why the hell did you pretend to be a student?’

‘I didn’t know you were gonna practically fuck me on your desk!’ I retort, annoyed that he’s blaming me for this situation. It’s not my fault.

‘I wasn’t going to—Jesus, June.’ Spencer spins in an agitated circle, brain whirring away as he tries to process what just happened. He evidently decides what to do as he grabs my wrist and drags me towards the door. ‘Come on, we need to see the head, right now.’

‘The head?’ I gape, stumbling after him as he unceremoniously hauls me up the stairs to the still-open door. ‘What—why?’

‘Because I am not getting fired over this.’ He replies, a few steps ahead of me as he yanks the door open and starts to march down the hallway. I can barely keep up. Spencer doesn’t seem to care if I stack it as he pulls me through the Academy’s corridors, past several bewildered students and curious faculty members.

I have no idea where we’re going, but I’m 99% sure I’m about to witness Spencer get a bollocking from his boss. He hasn’t said a word since we left the lecture theatre, and that irritation tugs at my chest. If he actually thinks this is because of me, then he’s got another thing coming—and I have no idea why we have to go to the head of his department just to fess up that we were about to have a quickie on his desk and someone walked in on us.

‘Hold up,’ I say, gasping for breath. I manage to dig my heels in and Spencer stops, turning around to face me. Stress tightens his cheeks, sets his mouth in a firm line. ‘I don’t understand. How is this my fault?’

‘It’s not your fault, June.’ Spencer says, trying to keep his voice down. We have reached a door with a brass plaque declaring it the office of ‘Head of Behavioural Science’. ‘But I have to explain the situation before that girl tells someone and this all gets blown out of proportion—if people so much as think I’m having relations with a student, my entire credibility goes down the drain.’

‘You make it sound like we were actively having sex on your desk.’ I grumble, folding my arms across my chest. I only realise how petulant this action is when Spencer’s lip twitches.

‘We weren’t far off, now, were we?’ Spencer retorts, but the bite has gone out of his voice. He looks down at me and his expression softens, the tight grip on my wrist loosening. ‘Look, I’m not angry at you—well, maybe a little bit—but I need to sort this out, okay?’

‘Alright.’ I say, following it up with a deep sigh. ‘But if you get fired, I want the record to state that it was your fault.’

Spencer rolls his eyes but there is no heat behind it. He knocks twice on the door, giving my hip a gentle squeeze before folding his hands in front of him. The picture of a demure professor, ready to supplicate at the foot of his superior. I do my best to copy his position, but I’m well aware that my lips still taste like Spencer and cherry lollipops. Just don’t make the situation worse, that’s all you have to do.

The door opens to reveal a tall, somewhat imposing man with a neatly trimmed brown beard and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose. Like most members of the FBI, he is dressed in a well cut black suit. The hem is a bit frayed at the sleeves, though, so probably an old faithful. He looks surprised to see us both outside.

‘Dr. Reid? Dr. Bishop?’ He greets us, stepping aside to usher us into his office. His voice is a deep baritone that commands respect—useful if you’re going to be the head of a department. He closes the door behind us with a click. ‘What can I do for you?’

I hover awkwardly as he makes his way around his desk and sits down, gesturing for us to take the two plush armchairs facing the desk. His walls are relatively bare, aside from a few paintings—Ophelia by John Millais dominates one side, mirrored with Samson and Delilah by Paul Rubens. Baroque and Renaissance, squaring off to each other. He has a miniature Venus statue on his desk, but not much else other than a file organiser and a small sign that reads ‘Dr. Jonathan Moores’ in a crisp gold font. The lamp behind him is switched on despite the sun streaming through the blinds.

‘Sir, I need to explain something.’ Spencer blurts out, ushering me into a seat. His words tumble over themselves in a rush. I have to bite back a laugh as I watch my boyfriend, the picture of composure out in the hall, devolve into a stuttering mess in front of his superior. If I wasn’t so nervous, I might have found it endearing.

‘Go on.’ Dr. Moores says, voice wary as he inspects the both of us.

Spencer proceeds to recount everything that happened—from the moment I walked into the lecture, mind, to the ‘misunderstanding’ with the students as he so kindly phrased it, to the very unfortunate situation with Blondie. Spencer chooses his words very carefully when he reaches that point, avoiding things like ‘making out’ to go with ‘a little peck’, obviously downplaying the situation. I choose not to say anything, instead watching Dr. Moores expression shift from serious concern to poorly concealed mild amusement. By the time Spencer has finished his sordid tale, I have a hand clamped over my mouth to muffle my laughter.

When Spencer finishes, Dr. Moores leans forward and steeples his fingers. He lets the silence stretch, practically torturing poor Spencer. My boyfriend is shuffling awkwardly in his seat, unable to sit still—in fact, he even cracks his neck as he waits, right leg jiggling incessantly.

‘Well.’ Dr. Moores finally speaks, clearing his throat and schooling his features into a look of bland disinterest. ‘I must say, Dr. Reid, I didn’t expect to be dealing with a case of mistaken identity and a potential HR violation on a Thursday morning.’

‘I know, sir, I’m sorry.’ Spencer hangs his head.

‘However, I appreciate your honesty, and thank you for coming to explain what happened.’ Dr. Moores relaxes his features and that, in turn, relaxes Spencer. Spencer rolls out his shoulders, shooting me a bashful look, and nods his head. ‘I must admit, this will make an interesting case study for my next lecture on personal dichotomies…’

Spencer’s eyes widen in horror. ‘Oh, no, sir, please don’t do that.’

‘Don’t worry, doctors.’ He chuckles, and all pretence of anger has dissipated from him. His laughter spurs me on. A giggle escapes from behind my hand and I fold my legs. Phew. We’re not in trouble. ‘I won’t actually do that, though I do trust this situation has taught you that you really shouldn’t be kissing on company time. I trust you’ll both be more careful in the future.’

‘Yes, sir, of course.’ I manage to say relatively straight faced, but I have to say the words to the desk rather than to the head of the department.

‘And Juniper, if you do decide to return to the Academy, perhaps I might be able to convince you to do a lecture or two yourself.’ Dr. Moores rises to his feet and we copy him. It’s clear that this conversation has finished. He leads us towards the door, looking at me for an answer.

‘I’d love to, sir.’ I grin over my shoulder at Spencer, who mouths ‘don’t even think about it’ as the head opens the door to his office. Spencer’s disapproving look vanishes as soon as the head turns around to look at us. I offer Dr. Moores my hand as I leave, ducking my head. ‘I’ll be in contact—and sorry, again, sir.’

‘It’s quite alright.’ He shakes my hand and gives Spencer’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze as my boyfriend trails after me. ‘You’d be surprised how often that happens. Enjoy the rest of your day off.’

And with that, he closes the door behind us and the situation as a whole.

‘Well, it was definitely unexpected.’ I say. We’re back home now and finally able to discuss the situation—Spencer had sent me home on Maple first and followed behind in his car. He’s currently sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee and some chat show on the TV that he must have forgotten to change. ‘I didn’t expect it to go that way.’

‘You think?’ Spencer moves his blazer to let me sit down next to him, tucking my feet up underneath my skirt and cradling a steaming mug between my palms. There’s a glint in his eye that shows me he’s not mad. His arm falls across my lap in a casual display of intimacy.

‘I’m surprised he didn’t give us both detention.’ I tease him, bumping his shoulder gently with my own.

‘I think he was more amused than anything,’ Spencer hums, taking a sip of his coffee before smiling at me. ‘Though I have to admit, I was nervous.’

‘I know you were.’ I find my eye trailing down his collar. ‘I found the whole thing absolutely hilarious. But hey, at least you haven’t been fired.’

‘That is definitely a plus, though maybe next time, don’t pretend to be a student, darling.’

‘Well, maybe you should learn to control yourself around said students.’

‘Stop it.’

‘They already adore you, what are they gonna do when Blondie tells them you were practically balls deep in me on the fuckin’ lecture theatre desk.’ I chuckle to myself, taking another sip of my coffee. Spencer chokes beside me.

‘Oh my God June, your mouth is filthy.’ When I look at him, he’s gone bright red. Even after everything he has been through, everything we have faced together, he’s still embarrassed by a couple of naughty words strung together in a sentence. It’s so endearing that my chest hurts.

‘Seriously, Spencer? We’ve known each other for, what, ten years—’

‘Ten years, seven months, nine days.’

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever, and you’ve only just realised that?’

‘No, June, I’ve always known you to have a dirty mouth, but I think it’s weird when it’s relating to my students of all things. And I don’t think ‘adore’ is the right word.’

‘Alright.’ I lean back in my seat, lick my lips. With a careful, calculated gesture, I stretch my legs over his lap. His eyes drop to the stretch of skin just below the hem of the skirt, fingers brushing down to touch it. ‘What would you like me to say instead? That they’re desperate to shag you? That they love you?’

‘Stop. It.’ He grips my thigh tightly, giving me his patented exasperated look. I return it.

‘Why? It’s true.’ I shrug, leaning further back into the cushions and eyeing him over the rim of my mug. Spencer’s fingers trace idle, teasing patterns on my thigh, sending shivers down my spine. ‘I reckon half of them would become Unsubs to have you look at them the way you look at me.’

‘You are being ridiculous.’ Spencer insists, shaking his head, but the very tips of his ears have turned pink. A telltale sign. He clearly loves the attention, he just doesn’t want to admit it. He leans over and puts his coffee mug down with a thud. When he returns, he is significantly closer, his head nearly on my collar.

‘Am I?’ I raise my eyebrow, sliding my arm across his shoulders and letting my fingers fiddle with the seam of his shirt. ‘You can’t say that you didn’t enjoy it, at least just a little bit.’

Spencer sighs, letting his head rock back onto my arm. His lips are slightly pursed as he thinks over my words. The hand on my thigh continues to make idle patterns, though it is getting higher and higher towards the hem. He’s not inconspicuous in the slightest, though I don’t think he’s intending to be. Spencer licks his lips before he speaks.

‘Perhaps a little,’ he admits sheepishly, brown eyes locking onto mine. I grin in triumph. ‘It’s nice to be appreciated, I guess.’

‘See, I knew it.’ I press a kiss to his cheek, unable to keep the humour out of my tone. I don’t want him to think I’m making fun of him, so quickly continue. ‘You’re only human, Spencer, you’re still a man. Admittedly a man with Adonis-like cheekbones and a face Paris would choose, and a certified genius, but a man nonetheless.’

‘I am hardly a god amongst men, June.’ Spencer chuckles, but his cheeks turn pink. He plucks my mug from my hand and puts it on the table next to his. When he returns, he wastes little time in pulling me into his lap, large hand descending back to my upper thigh. The more he strokes my skin, the harder it is to focus. ‘And you’re the one who keeps calling me a nerd.’

‘Being a nerd and being appreciated are not mutually exclusive.’ I remind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and speaking against his skin. ‘Besides, you’re my nerd, and I appreciate you more than anyone. Don’t you forget that.’

Spencer’s arm around my hips tightens, the other hand relaxing its ministrations. He just holds me for a moment, head falling onto my collar as he exhales shakily. We sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments. The only sound is the low chatter of the TV and Spencer’s unsteady breaths. I close my eyes, fully content to bask in the warmth of Spencer’s presence, the weight of his arms a comforting anchor in the sea of chaos that is the world.

‘I appreciate you too, June.’ He murmurs, voice a soft caress against my chest. ‘More than you know.’

‘I know, Spence, I know.’ I press a kiss to the crown of his head. My hand cards through his hair, the softness so familiar to my fingertips. It’s nice to sit here with him and share a moment of peace, especially after such a hectic morning. It goes to show how much stronger we are together than we are apart. I decide to be a bit cheeky. ‘So…about those wake up calls…’

‘Oh, I thought I told you’d never know about those?’ Spencer smirks cheekily at me, pulling his head away from my chest and raising an eyebrow.

‘Yes, but I also know that you find it hard to resist me.’ I retort, leaning in so we’re barely a centimetre away from one another. Spencer’s eyes drop to my lips, hand tightening around my thigh. It’s my turn to smirk. ‘I also know that I mentioned something about the skirt…’

‘You’re incorrigible.’ He groans, and leans in. I pull away with a cheeky grin.

‘You’ve said that already today.’

‘I thought it was worth repeating.’ Spencer retorts, pulling me back down towards him. ‘I suppose I could be convinced to show you what I was thinking of doing to you this morning…’

‘Please.’ Is all I need to say before Spencer is upon me.

He kisses me with a fiery intensity I have rarely experienced from him before. His pent up passion is palpable as he curves me backwards, pressing his lips against mine with fervour. It’s a little sloppy, an untamed urgency, and his tongue seeks entrance earlier than usual, pushing against mine with a newfound dominance. Evidently I had been getting under his skin.

The large, warm hand on my thigh slips up under the skirt to grip the meatiest part of it, a handful of skin that I have no doubt will be bruised tomorrow. The idea of bruises only serves to turn me on more, though, the idea that I will find evidence of our mischievous behaviour invigorating. I do my best to keep up, clinging onto him, matching his enthusiasm as best I can. I am way too pleased with myself that I have managed to get this to go my way.

Spencer’s lips leave mine and aim for the underside of my jaw, trailing a line of fire. He peppers open mouthed kisses to my throat, my chin, wherever he can lay his lips on. It’s as if he is determined to taste every single inch of exposed skin. The hand under my skirt ventures further, slips under the hem of my underwear and I have to bite back a soft moan of excitement. Spencer is everywhere, all at once, leaving me breathless and wanting.

‘Bedroom?’ I suggest, voice barely above a whisper. The living room is suddenly way too confined for what I have in mind.

‘Bedroom.’ He confirms, voice a husky mix of pleasure and barely restrained desire.

‘As you wish, doctor.’ I tease, a playful lilt in my tone as I extricate myself from his lap. I sashay towards the bedroom door in languid, deliberately provocative movements. Spencer, however, is quick to follow. Before I can open the door fully, a hand—the very same one that was exploring underneath my skirt mere moments ago—slams into the door. Spencer has effectively barred my entry. I blink up at him, confused. ‘Babe, that’s the door to the bedroom. I can’t go in the bedroom if you’re holding the door closed.’

‘Strip.’ He instructs, voice low and commanding. He leans against the door, eyes raking up and down my figure with unmistakable hunger. It’s a hunger I’ve seen many times before.

I chuckle, bemused, but do not deny him his pleasure. I start with his jumper, peeling it off impossibly slowly before tossing it somewhere over my shoulder. Spencer’s gaze is intense, searching me rapidly for any hint of exposed flesh. I turn and bend at the waist to remove my knee-high socks, fully aware of the view I am presenting. The deep groan that rumbles from the back of his throat tells me he’s appreciating the glimpse of my very skimpy underwear. Next to join the others is my shirt and bra, leaving me nearly bare. The chill of the air conditioning makes my nipples pebble, a testament to my ever-growing arousal.

I reach for the waistband of my skirt but something stops me.

‘Don’t—’ Spencer’s slightly strangled voice stalls my movements, and I raise an eyebrow at him. Spencer clears his throat once and scratches the back of his neck in a gesture that betrays a hint of the sheepishness I saw earlier. He schools his features and swings the door open, holding it wide for me. ‘Leave the skirt.’

‘I fucking knew you had a thing for it!’ A triumphant grin spreads across my face and my laughter—rich in smugness and amusement— rings through the apartment. I saunter into the bedroom. Spencer follows swiftly behind, slamming the door shut with such force that the vase on the windowsill shudders.

Looks like I might be in for it today.

Safe to say that this skirt has just become my very own secret weapon. Who would have thought that a little bit of pleated fabric and a smile could be so disruptive?

THANK YOU FOR READING! MORE SPENCER REID FICS ON THE WAY.

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #larkspur acontium

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 2 years ago

Note

I just read your April Fools's fic with Larissa!! I LOVED IT!!! I was wondering if you could write another Larissa/teacher fic with the sex pollen? But maybe this time it could be: they don't like each other at all so they're really trying to understand what's happening and trying to fight it really hard until it's not possible anymore? Pleaseee?☺

Heyyyyy anon!! I feel like what your describing would go really well with enemies to lovers so I sprinkled some of that in there… Hope you enjoy! ❤️‍🔥💋

What the Body Wants Pt. 1 ~Larissa Weems xFem teacher!Reader

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, bit angst, smut, teasing, sex pollen, drugging, eating out, masturbation, voyeaurism, grinding, scissoring, orgasm denial, exhibitionist kink…?, etc.

Enjoy (;

You had been working at Nevermore for multiple years now. And you enjoyed the job a great deal.

For the most part...

You loved the students and the work. The environment of outcasts felt homey to you. And you enjoyed most of your colleagues.

Most...

From the minute your and Larissa Weems’ paths collided, you both knew you were not each others cup of tea. She had taken the position of headmistress in your third year at the school, and the pair of you had immediately come to the conclusion it was best to walk separate paths.

You had a tendency to second guess her decisions...

Larissa had a tendency to undermine you...

It was just a back and forth game of tension and frustration. So you both stayed away. Because when caught in the same room, your colleagues sometimes worried you two would break out into a full-on fist fight. For the most part, this method worked. You didn’t have to see her annoying face or listen to her ongoing speech.

Except for monthly staff meetings.

Those were inevitable and miserable… A time where you both had to suck it up and sit in a room together for hours at a time...

Today was no exception. You sighed as you entered the dreaded meeting, plopping down in your usual seat with a huff. Larissa gave you a side eye, which you kindly returned with a light glare. The meeting droned on and you could focus on any of it. Your mind was on one thing: Larissa.

Every time she stood up to speak…

Every time to rustled her notes…

Every time she goddamn breathed it set you off…

Finally, the meeting came to its agonizing end. You made a beeline for the door the second Larissa had dismissed the group. As you exited, Marilyn pulled you aside into a corner of the corridor.

“Hey Y/N, Can I talk with you for a second?” She asked.

“Yea, Marilyn, what’s up?”

“I’m doing a small get together Saturday morning with only a few people for some tea that I made myself!” Marilyn eagerly explained, “I was wondering if you would join me??”

You lightly smiled at how bright and eager Marilyn could be.

“Sure, Mar. I’d love that.”

“Great! See you tomorrow at 9 then!”

At that, Marilyn walked away with a skip, and you went in the opposite direction. From a distance you swore u heard Mariltn saying “Larissa! So glad you decided to join us tomorrow!”

But you brushed it off, as Larissa playing tricks with your mind again.

She had a tendency to do that…

Getting in your head…

Anyways, eventually Saturday morning rolled around…

At 8:50, you began walking down to Marilyn’s Greenhouses. As you walked near, you could hear voices in the Greenhouse already. You opened the latch to the foggy glass door and stepped in. But you stopped in your tracks at what you saw…

Marilyn was serving tea to Larissa… You gulped and tried to think of any possible excuse to get out of this. You couldn’t think of one.

Marilyn had cornered you.

And Larissa.

“Y/N! I’m so glad your here, come in! Larissa and I just started to pour some tea!” Marilyn exclaimed with a hint of mischievousness in the twinkle of her eyes.

You walked in and sat. And you said nothing. Larissa also had become silent the second she had seen you.

Her eyes had widened and her breath had fled from her…

“Here, have some tea!” Marilyn said, pouring you the same cup as Larissa’s.

Again, the greenhouse went silent.

“Please, do drink! I’d really like to know what you guys think!” Marilyn pled with excitement.

You both, not wanting to disappoint Marilyn and trying to find anything to avoid the tension, began to sip your teas. After a few minutes of awkward silence and sipping of tea, Marilyn got up and announced something.

“I think I forgot something in my… other greenhouse! Be right back!”, before leaving the two of you. And closing the door, with a click.

“No Mar, wait!” You yelled, getting up to follow Marilyn.

But when you reached the door, it was locked. In frustration, you pulled on it harder, but it wouldn’t budge. Larissa sighed in annoyance, “Let me try.”

You rolled your eyes and backed up with your hands up.

“Alright, but it won’t open. She’s locked it.” you gritted out.

Now it was Larissa’s turn to roll her eyes as she used her strength to tug at the door. Nothing. You were stuck. For who knows how long. Larissa let out a grunt in frustration.

What other sounds could that pretty mouth make…?

You cringed as you realized your internal thought. Not knowing what to do and feeling a bit lightheaded, you decided it would be best to sit back down.

Your heart race had picked up, which could very logically be explained by the fact that Marilyn had trapped you in a greenhouse with Larissa Weems… In any rate, you unconsciously picked up the tea cup and began sipping it.

You were nervous and the tea wasn’t actually that bad. It tasted like crisp winter with waves of spicey warmth, a sweet but tangy kick to the flavor…

Kind of what Larissa might taste like…

You physically cringed now, having to compose yourself from your rampant thoughts. You noted that your heart rate had now doubled in its pace… And was it getting a bit too hot in here…? You lightly fanned yourself with your hand, while taking another sip of your tea.

“Put the tea down.”

The voice came out of nowhere, but it was clearly Larissa. You swiveled your head, still holding the tea, to meet the woman’s gaze. For the first time, you actually took the time to take the woman standing in front of you in…

You noticed the beads of sweat rolling down her face…

You noticed her hair frizzing more than usual…

You noticed her pursed, plump lips…

“Sorry…?” You tried to snark, but your voice faltered.

“I said to put the tea down.” Larissa repeated in her usual demeaning and stern tone.

“Why? It’s actually quite good, you should try some.” You quipped back.

“I did. All of it, and that’s the problem.” She gritted out almost growling, her voice shifting down an octave.

Now you were really confused. And hot. Fuck was it hot in this greenhouse. You placed your now empty tea cup on the table with a emphasized slam.

“Happy now?”

Larissa chuckled, “No, not in the slightest.”

You groaned in frustration, “God Larissa, that was a hypothetical question…”

Larissa rolled her eyes at you, as you caught a falter in her step. She too sat down quickly.

“Are you alright?”

“No. I have been trying to tell you.” She seethed.

“Oh for fucks, sake! What is your fucking problem?” You raised your volume.

“Must you be so crass?” She bit back.

“Yes! Now are you going to tell me or not??” You practically yelled.

“Lower your voice.” Larissa commanded, lowering her own voice even more.

You only now noticed your sweating and that your heart race was furious at this point. And that Larissa’s words went straight to your core.

What?? Why?? How?? This made no sense…

You clenched your fists in frustration at the woman and groaned in response. When you had had your moment, Larissa continued,

“I think we’ve been drugged. I think the tea was some sort of ambrosiac…”

Your ears pricked up at this, and your head immediately swiveled back to the blonde.

“Sorry, what?” You genuinely asked, needing to process her words.

“Marilyn drugged us, Y/N. I do not know why and I certainly do not understand why she would lock us in here for it, but regardless, we don’t know the extent of the drug or any of the intentions along with it.”

You just laughed at this. You couldn’t help yourself, you burst out in laughter. Larissa was puzzled and stunned.

“Is this funny to you??” She demanded, vexed that you weren’t taking this as serious as she was.

“Yes… Yes, actually it is…” you chuckled, trying and managing to control your outburst.

“Do enlighten me about what is so funny about a staff member drugging two other colleagues and locking them in a greenhouse….” Larissa seethed.

Your mind was reeling and all over the place. You couldn’t control what did and didn’t come out of your mouth at this point.

“It’s funny that you don’t understand why Marilyn did this! I mean come on, she gives us an ambrosiac tea and locks us in her greenhouse…??” You suggestively say to Larissa.

But blank eyes stared back at you. Not blank actually, fiery and seething…

“She wants us to fuck, Larissa!!” You blurted out in laughter.

But as soon as those words left your mouth, you realized your own conclusion and immediately stopped laughing. The room seemed awfully tense now… And oddly spinning…? Now it was Larissa’s turn to have a burst of laughter,

“You…You can’t be serious…!” She laughed.

You bit your lip, feeling very bouncy and energetic all of a sudden.

“Yep.” You simply stated, as you stood up.

Larissa could not contain her amusement.

“And why on earth would Marilyn want that?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“Do you want it?” She pointedly asked.

You turned around to face her at the bizarre seeming statement.

“No. Do you?”

“Not in the slightest.” She replied.

You hummed in response. Your heart rate was still through the roof and you had started to sweat. You were also getting hotter by the minute.

So hot you just wanted to rip the clothes right off your body…

“So I suppose we will just have to wait for the ambrosiac to wear off.” Larissa decisively stated.

You took a moment to respond, needing to lean against a table to help ground your breathing, “Yes, it seems that way…”

Larissa was in a similar state, holding onto a desk to keep herself grounded.

“It’s oddly hot in here isn’t it?” You huffed.

“Yes it is…”

And before you could stop yourself, you were speaking,

“Would you mind if I took my shirt off?”

Silence. You immediately cringed yet again and quickly tried to explain yourself,

“Not in any sexual way, I just meant that It’s far too hot in here for me! Only if your comfortable with—”

“Sure.” was the simple response you received.

Larissa couldn’t ask the same thing as she was wearing a dress.

Although, you certainly wouldn’t mind her asking and complying…

Taking your mind back out of the gutter, you removed your shirt. A slight gasp came from across the room, and your head shot up. You found an almost stunned looking Larissa with a slight blush on her cheeks.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“I like your bra.”

She likes your black laced bra…

You wonder whether she’d like it on the floor even more…

“Thanks.”

Now you were left in your bra and trousers, and your body still burning with heat… You started pacing the room. The wind made your skin go a little less crazy…

Larissa groaned again in frustration and got up to start banging on the greenhouse door. At one point she determined that her efforts were fruitless as she went to go and sat back down again.

But along the way, you both clumsily ran into each other. You gripped Larissa’s forearms for support and the contact with her skin made your mind go dizzy. She meanwhile had grabbed your torso and arm to keep you from falling.

Now you both stood there in silence, not breaking the connection. All the pain and overwhelming heat went away.

And then Larissa broke from the trance and quickly pulled back from the contact. A slight whimper escaped your lips as the waves of heat and dizziness and overwhelmingness hit you again only they were intensified.

And a very strong ache in between your legs was becoming more and more apparent… You looked over to Larissa who staggered and then sat herself done again.

“There… There has to be an antidote somewhere here…” you panted, your breathing now labored and short.

“Already checked. Nothing that I could find...” Larissa responded in a strained tone.

“Fuck…” you whimpered, the pain in your body getting worse, “I can’t take much more of this… I feel like I’m about to combust…”

“I have an idea…” Larissa spoke out hesitantly.

You nodded and hummed in her direction.

“We… Maybe if we sated ourselves, then it would go away…?” She barely whispered.

You looked at the blonde with your hodded eyes and cocked an eyebrow at her, “You’re taking about you fucking yourself and me fucking myself just in the middle of this greenhouse in front of each other?”

Larissa’s face contorted at your choice of words yet again, but her expression quickly changed to a serious one, “Yes.”

You hummed in response. Your body was so on fire. Your mind told you no to Larissa’s idea but your body was screaming yes.

“Ok.” you shakily breathed out, “We’ll just do our own things I assume, then?”

“Yes…” Larissa met your breathy voice.

You nodded in response and leaned back in your chair a bit to get comfortable. You unbuttoned your trousers and snuck your hand down until your fingers reached your knickers. Your body was in a frenzy and hyper needy, so the second you slipped your finger into your aching cunt, you couldn’t help the moan of relief that escaped your lips.

Up to this point, Larissa had just been unabashedly staring at you. Your moan had sent sparks straight to her core. It woke her back up from her trance. Larissa rolled up her dress and removed her knickers easily.

You glanced over to the blonde, while you were fucking yourself in the way you knew your body responded best, and you found a direct view of the blonde having scrunched up her dress and her fingers skillfully circling her clit.

And when she inserted her own finger into her cunt… Oh God, you swore you could have cum right then and there from the pornographic moan that Larissa let out…

You both continued your administrations, becoming more and more enveloped in the lust of it all. You found yourself staring at Larissa as she fucked herself, taking in all her little whimpers, cries, and moans. And vice versa. Larissa couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off of you.

Before either of you knew it and out of knowhere, you were both cumming with strangled cries and moans. You panted heavily and looked over to the blissed out blonde who looked heavenly. You had seen her when you came… The tightness and pain in your body seemed to be gone.

“Fuck…” Larissa breathlessly chuckled with small smile on her face.

Her explicit words ignited the fire back into your core and it all came back…

“OhHhhH shit…” you groaned as the wave of everything that was too much hit you once more.

Your words seemed to trigger Larissa as the smile was quick to fade from her face as her face contorted back into the pain filled frame from mere minutes ago.

“I don’t think it worked…” you groaned, having fallen to the floor and cradling yourself in some attempt of comfort.

“It seemed to for a while…” Larissa groaned right back, “I thought it would work…”

“I know. It was worth a try.” You comforted the frustrated blonde who was leaning against the table leg and spread out on the floor.

Silence ensued.

“I saw you…” you whispered.

“Sorry?”

“It felt better when I came and saw you…” you confessed, having to close your eyes because it was all becoming too much.

There was no response for a minute or so.

“I…I saw you too…” Larissa confesses in a hushed tone.

At her words, you moved to cradling yourself in a upwards position on the floor and met Larissa’s stunning yet glazed over sapphire eyes.

“My body wants you…” you confessed with a deep breath and your eyes looking down to the ground.

“And your mind?” She asked.

“I don’t know what my mind wants.” you whispered.

“That makes sense. The aphrodisiac most likely has the power to affect the body but not—”

Larissa didn’t have the chance to finish her thought as you and lunged forward and crashed your lips into hers. Larissa’s response was immediate, moving you to straddle her lap, she moaned into the kiss.

You pulled away after a minute having doubts, breathlessly panting, “I’m sorry. This doesn’t make sense.”

You went to pull away, but Larissa grabbed your hips and ground them against her own. You both let out embarrassingly loud moans, making Larissa tilt her head back with a small smirk,

“I think it makes perfect sense… We only feel better when we’re in direct contact… and right now, I think your wearing far too many articles of clothing…” she lustfully purred.

Larissa continued to grind her hips into yours, and you crashed your lips back into hers in response. The pair of you were a whimpering, needy mess on the floor, grinding into one another and sloppily kissing each others lips.

In response to her comment, you made quick work of your bra, throwing it aside. Larissa audibly moaned out in delight at the sight of your freed tits. Your nipples were so hard, you swore you could pop them.

You thrust your chest towards Larissa who was starting at your jiggling tits, “God please Larissa… touch me…” you breathlessly pled with the blonde.

The blonde happily obliged, wrapping her tongue around one of your hard buds and nipping and toying with her tongue. Your back arched in pleasure and your hands flew to Larissa’s hair. The pins had to go.

With your hips swaying in a rhythm and still grinding into one another, Larissa skillfully teased and marked your nipples and neck line, while you rushed to remove all the pins in her hair. Her beautiful locks cascaded down to her shoulders and your brain short circuited completely.

Larissa removed her lips from your puffy and marked bud with a pop, meeting your gaze, “What…?” She chuckled at your gawking state.

You ground against the blondes heat once more and with a pout breathlessly whined, “Clothes… need to go…”

At that Larissa eyes were completely taken by dark lust and desperation. She quickly took you off her lap, and before you could complain, she was unzipping her dress. You quickly followed with your trousers. When you looked back up to Larissa, she was in nothing but a cream satin lingerie set.

She stalked towards you, pining you against one of the greenhouse lab tables. With ease, she lifted you onto the table and slid her form in between your legs. You responded by immediately attaching your legs to her waist and pulling her face down to smash you lips against hers again.

As much as you would have loved to take a minute and explore the beautiful blondes mouth, you were desperate. As Larissa ravaged your mouth, you were quickly to unclip her bra, letting her creamy, soft, luscious tits free from their confinement.

“Fuck ‘Rissa…” you breathed out, your pupils dialating even more at you taking in her stunning form.

Larissa blushed at the nickname and how speechless her body had made you. But she was desperate too…

“As much as I love you ogling my tits, Darling… If I don’t have your face in my cunt in the next few minutes, I’ll fucking die…” Larissa groaned.

You licked your lips at Larissa’s words and nodded eagerly. You stripped your knickers off with haste. The two of you hastily swapped position, and you placed yourself right at the blondes thighs. You could see a soaking wet patch in her knickers, which only turned you on more.

Larissa needily bucked her hips into your face, “please fuck me please…!” She mewled.

And you happily obliged. You could already smell the scent of her arousal through her knickers. You tore her knickers off and threw them with her dress on the floor. Tonguing through her folds only made your body go into more of a frenzy. Every moan and cry that came from Larissa’s lips sent you spiraling.

Larissa’s hand shot down to grab ahold of your hair as the other stabilized her on the table. Strings of obscenities flowed from her smerred red lips as you explored her folds. Her legs clenched deliciously around your head, suffocating you in a manner that you couldn’t want any more than you did right now.

You noted that Larissa tasted like that tea, but wayyy more concentrated and far more delicious… Your tongue lapped through Larissa’s folds and in her walls with fervor, until she her walls were fluttering around your tongue more and more.

“Fuuuuck Darling M’mm gonna cum!!” Larissa moaned out, pushing your face deeper inside her cunt.

“Fuck ‘Rissa tastes so good… God cum for me please…!!” You groaned in response, which sent her even closer to her climax.

You attached your thumb to her clit, remembering the movement you saw her do to herself and you quickly circled the bundle of nerves sloppily. Larissa’s eyes rolled back as she came with the cry of your name on her tongue, her thighs depriving you of oxygen as they pressed together only pushing you further into her cunt, which was squirting plentiful amounts of cum on your face.

You moaned in delight as you ate her out, her walls clenching around your tongue. The blonde let go of your hair and you pulled out of your meal to look up at her. She was panting heavily with glazed over eyes as she stared down at you.

“Christ, you’re fantastic at that…” Larissa breathlessly chuckled, her body giving out on her causing her to collapse on the table.

But you two were by no means through…

You chuckled back at the blissed out blonde, “I’d clean you up but I’d rather feel your juices on my own pussy…”

At your words, Larissa sat up fully, eyes wide at your words, and she practically jumped off the table with her wobbly legs making her immediately collapse on the floor and taking you with her. You both laughed at her miscalculated act.

“Shit, when’s the last time someone properly fucked you?” You laughed, “Or am I just that good…?”

Larissa smacked your arm at your words and you wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. Damn was her laugh intoxicating…

But you quickly shut Larissa up by interlocking your legs and rolling your hips into the blondes, your dripping core grinding against Larissa’s. Your action immediately made Larissa’s eyes roll back in pleasure yet again and elicited another delicious moan from her lips. Her moan was quickly followed by a straggled cry of pleasure of your own.

Now Larissa was the one who caught you by surprise, rolling her hips into yours in unison to your moan.

“Shiiiit ‘Rissa! Do that again and M’mmm gonna cum…!!” You cried out, holding on to the tall blonde shoulders as you met her grinding sloppily.

“So soon, Darling…?” Larissa taunted, “I’m that good…?”

“Yes GOD YES please ‘Rissa!!” You cried out, your climax approaching at a rapid pace.

Your grindings got sloppier and more rushed as the two of spewed strings of obscenities into each others ears.

“Fuck Darling I’m…” Larissa panted, approaching her climax right along side you.

Suddenly, a distinct twig snapped outside. You and Larissa both immediately stopped and swiveled your head to the sound. Your breaths hitched together as you saw the shadow of Marilyn coming closer. You both scrambled, unlocking your legs and rushing about to find your clothes quickly.

“Shit shit shit…” you muttered, not being able to find your knickers.

But it was too late. The door was unlocking. You quickly finished dressing and so did Larissa. You and Larissa both hastened to sit where Marilyn had left you.

“Hey, Sorry, wanted to check on some plants on the edge of the woods…” Marilyn chirped with the same mischevious twinkle in her eye. You were still on complete edge and couldn’t stand it anymore….

“I’m so sorry, Marilyn, but I need to go…” you muttered, side eyeing Larissa before thanking Marilyn and rushing out of the greenhouse. Before you got up to the school, Larissa had caught up with you.

“My office. Ten minutes.” She breathed down your neck lustfully.

“God yes, ‘Rissa…” you groaned under your breath.

Your two bodies were by no means through with each other…

~~~

Part 2 out now… 🤭

Larissa Weems Masterlist

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dancingtotuyo · 9 months ago

Text

Scathed 9 (Javier Peña)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: anxiety, trauma, self worth, smoking, idiot(s) in love?, references to the drug war and colombia, Narcos season 3 spoilers

Notes: shoutout to my forever beta reader @janaispunk for looking this bad boy over!

Words: 2923

Series Master List | Author Master List

Journal Entry August 4, 1994 Dear Javi,

There are things I can’t bring myself to say. Even out on the back patio under the safety of the stars, I can’t tell you how scared I am that you won’t come back. It terrifies me. I did life without you for so long, but I’m not sure how to go back to life without you in it. We’re going to miss you alot.

You won’t ever see this, but please come back.

This time would be different. It ran on repeat in Javier’s head as he stared out the large windows that overlooked the buzzing city. New position, new apartment, new drug cartel. This time had to be different; he couldn’t get lost in it like last time. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to start back at the DEA in the morning.

He unpacked his last suit case, having put it off since his arrival Friday night, the one that contained his few treasures in life. Framed photos from Chucho: the ranch, the two of them, an old family photo with his mom. A crayon drawing from Alejandra: both of them on horses. A bottle of whiskey from Jaime. A journal from Emily.

“To write down all those thoughts racing through your mind. Even the ugly ones,” she had told him.

He set it on the end table next to the family photo with his mom. This time would be different. A silent oath.

Alejandra’s drawing went on the fridge, the bottle of whisky on the counter, and the other pictures on the bookshelf. He looked around. It all felt scattered, empty, nothing like the apartment he’d made for himself last time.

The familiar urge to go out, drink a couple of fingers of whiskey, and take a warm body home crept in. He fought against it. He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. This time had to be different. He’s promised himself over and over again it would be. He promised his dad he would call and write. He told Emily the same…

Could he be here and not let it consume him? Could he be soaked in it all and still talk to her? Be worthy of her friendship? Being here, he felt the sins of his past marring his hands, so real and tangible. The same hands Emily allowed to touch her, what a privilege that was. The same hands she felt safe in.

Javier thought about all the things he used to do when these thoughts raced through his mind when he couldn’t handle the big emotions: bars, cigarettes, sex. Too many times to count. His fingers itched at his side to grab his leather jacket and go.

He paced the length of his apartment running a hand through his messy hair. Then it caught his eye: something sticking out of the journal. He pulled it out.

A crisp envelope with his name written neatly in the middle: Emily’s handwriting. He popped it open. Polaroid pictures. He shook his head thinking about the grief he gave her for carrying that thing everywhere, but a smile appeared on his lips. There was one of him standing in the riding rink as Ale trotted around him on Hurricane. Another taken on the patio just last week: he and the kids eagerly chowing down on popsicles before they could melt in the Texas sun. He could see the red ring around Mateo’s mouth and drip down his chin as the sun beat him. One on the small dock next to the boys and his dad, lines cast into the pond Chucho stocked on the ranch. Javier smiled. Miguelito caught the biggest bass that day. Chucho had been dumbfounded.

He sucked in as he flipped to the last one. It was the picture Alejandra had taken at the park just after he told her he was returning to Colombia. She leaned into him, an ease rarely seen in her. He’d caught a whiff of her shampoo, followed her lead, and leaned in. His thumb rubbed over the picture. He’d put an arm over her shoulder, her hand on his knee it all looked so… peaceful, domestic even, like they were- He cut the thought off, letting the picture fall to his coffee table.

For so many reasons, that was a bad idea.

He padded his pockets, finding the Nicorette gum. He popped the last piece into his mouth. He should grab more on his way to work in the morning.

The Polaroid stared back at him. He looked happy, wrinkles cutting deep around his eyes. He picked the photo back up. He had been happy that day. Happier than he could remember even as he grappled with his decision to return to Colombia. Black ink on the back grabbed his attention. Don’t forget about us, okay? Her handwriting again. Her words to him that day.

He smiled to himself. That was his friend. He wasn’t sure he’d had one of those for a long time. Sure, he and Steve got along, but Steve was back in Miami. They still talked about once a month, but the bond he felt toward this woman was different. He and Steve had been forced together. They had to trust each other. Their lives had depended on it. Javier’s life sure didn’t depend on trusting Emily, but he did. She didn’t judge him. There were still things he hadn’t told her, and vice versa, but he knew when he was ready, he could.

Javier slipped the photo of them into his wallet. This time was different.

He grabbed the phone off the end table and called his dad. The conversation was brief. The last thing he wanted to do was run up anyone’s phone bill, but he could tell his dad was happy to hear from him. He’d rarely received communications from Javier when he was in Colombia the first time.

His fingers hovered over the buttons as he contemplated the second call. He told her he’d call. She told him to call. He pushed past the anxiety, pressing the buttons succinctly. He had it memorized. He checked his watch. It was bath night in the Kuykendall house. He knew that, but usually, the kids were bathed and in bed by now.

Javier smiled as he thought about the few times he’d stumbled into bath night. It was true chaos and an event, but every single person wore larger-than-life grins. It was one of the times Javier felt like he was a part of something bigger than himself, like he’d been brought into something sacred.

“Hello?” Anna answered. He could clearly hear the laughter of children and adults in the background.

“Hey, it’s Javier… I can call back if this is-“

“Not at all.” He felt Anna’s welcoming presence through the phone. “Emily just came out of the bathroom.”

“Bath night.” Javier chuckled.

“Exactly,” Anna called for her stepdaughter. Javier couldn’t hear their exchange over the shouts coming from the living room.

“Javier?”

An ache in his chest eased. “Hey, sounds like a madhouse there.”

Emily laughed and the sounds muted as if she’d shut them behind a door. “Dad seems to have extra energy to chase the kids down tonight. How is it to be back?”

“Strange.” Javier glanced out the window. The city flowed like it always did, people rushing from place to place. “I’ve got a nicer apartment this time.”

“Of course you do, Mr. DEA attaché.”

Javier chuckled. “That sounds too fancy for me.”

“You said the same thing when you bought those suits and I gave you that snazzy new haircut.”

Javier grinned, resting against the countertop. His eyes fluttered shut as he remembered the feeling of her fingers through his hair. His shirt stretched and pulled across his chest as he inhaled. “Still sounds too fancy for me.”

“You ready for your first day?”

“No.”

Her laugh crackled through the line. “Then why’d you go back.”

At that moment, Javier wondered the same thing. He’d much rather be back in Laredo chasing the kids around the living room. “I’m askin myself that same thing.”

“Then do it. Tell the DEA where to shove it and come home.”

He smiled, low chuckle pulling from his chest. “You and I both know I have unfinished business here.”

“Yeah…” Silence sat between them. He could still hear the kids in the background. Javier wracked his brain for the right things to say, but everything he wanted to say he couldn’t. “Finish it quick, okay?”

“That’s the plan.”

“And stay safe. I can’t lose one of my only friends.”

“Oh?” Javier said. He felt an easiness take over him. “What about Lorraine? I thought she was your friend.”

“I said one of, and you’re my best friend anyway.” He can hear her eyes roll. “I mean it though, we all miss you already.”

“Tell the kids I said hi, okay? I’ll call another night when there’s time to talk to them.”

“Will do.”

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I should be saying that to you.”

“Em.”

“I will. I promise,” she said. “You too, Javi.”

Journal Entry August 8, 1994 Dear Javi,

I bet you spend all day behind a desk and hate every moment of it. It makes me laugh each time I think about it. It assures me that you’re okay too. Fancier job means a safer job, right?

As his first day back came to a close, Javier felt like he’d been there for a year. When he found the sticky note with the name of a nearby bar on his desk presumably left by Neil, he told himself one drink wouldn’t hurt. This time would be different. The mantra felt almost meaningless already. Similar things had been echoed in his meetings all day. This wouldn’t be like Escobar. There would be law and order and protocol. Politics were more important than ever. The world was watching now.

One drink and then home. That was what he told himself as he sat down at the bar, ignoring his coworkers at the corner table. Pulling off his suit coat, he motioned the bartender ordering a whiskey. He turned down Neil’s invite to join the group. The guy was too eager to kiss his ass for Javier’s liking, put him up on a pedestal for taking down Escobar as if he hadn’t been suspended at the time.

He swallowed the whiskey as soon as the glass was set in front of him. Then, he ordered another. Javier wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but it was too long. He rubbed his thumb over the crease of his forehead trying to talk himself out of the opportunity for stress relief sitting in front of him. The group in the corner had dwindled to two. A blonde he hadn’t met and the brunette he met at the beginning. Neil had introduced her. Karen? Katherine? Katie?… Katie sounded right.

His staring wasn’t subtle, wasn’t flirtatious like he’d used to do it. If anything, it was creepy, staring at her while thoughts raced through his head. The mantra shortened until it was only a couple words as he tried to talk himself out of it. Different. Be different. It echoed over and over in his head.

The bar was practically empty by now. She looked up and smiled at him like he wasn’t being a creep. He didn’t return it, still deep within his own mind.

“Pretty girl.” Javier’s head snapped around to find fucking Bill Stechner of the CIA at his side. He slid onto the stool beside him. “Displays some shaky judgment in men though.” He looked at Javier.

Javier glanced away from Bill, looking over his shoulder as if to convey his annoyance with his whole body before turning back to him. He forced the briefest tip of his lips, the closest thing to pleasantries he could summon for the man.

As most conversations with the CIA agent do, Javier was left with a sour taste in his mouth, the innate craving for a cigarette, and his failures thrown in his face. Then, Stechner laid it all out for him, the way things would go whether Javier liked it or not. Cali’s surrender. The facade of justice for the Cali Cartel. He didn’t like it, any of it, and he wasn’t sure why he came back in the first place, or why they even needed him. The DEA didn’t. He was just a pawn in Stechner’s game.

“Cali will serve some time,” Bill said. He doesn’t look at Javier, keeping his eyes pinned to the bartop. “Technically speaking.”

“And that’s enough for you?”

The look that crossed Stechner’s face is something akin to a blend of annoyance and patronizing as he met Javier’s eyes. “If there were any justice in this world, Javier, you’d be in jail.”

It was only half a second before Javier averted his eyes, the shame of what he did flooding him. He wasn’t the hero everyone acted like he was. Stechner knew that. Javier kept quiet.

“I know your guys are running an operation on Cali tonight.” Bill stood, putting enough cash on the bar to cover his and Javier’s tabs. “I can tell you this, it’ll come up double zeros.” More silence. “These guys don’t make mistakes. You try and go after the Cali bosses, all you’ll get is more bodies.”

Stechner finished off his drink, patted Javier’s shoulder, and walked out without another word, leaving Javier with a bigger stress headache than he came in with. Try as he might, Javier couldn’t push it out of his head. He needed something, a distraction. He wouldn’t survive without one.

Javier finished off the whiskey in front of him. He rubbed his forehead, searching for any relief. Different. It seemed quieter now, further away like his resolve was slipping. He needed to be anywhere that wasn’t here, shut off his brain.

He stared straight ahead, eyes glazing over, shining in the dim bar light as he pinched his top lip between his thumb and forefinger. Different. It felt useless, like he was bound to fail. A whisper of an oath. Maybe there was no different for him.

It was almost instinctual, the way he glanced over, eyes meeting hers. She offered him a soft small now sitting alone at the table, cigarette held between her middle and pointer finger, like she had been waiting for him.

“This is Peña. Leave a message.” BEEP.

“Hi Mr. Javi! It’s me, Ale. I miss you already. You should call me soon.”

“Alejandra, who are you on the phone with?”

“Mr. Javi’s voicemail.”

“Ale, it’s expensive to call Colombia. Hand me the phone.”

“Oops.” She giggled.

A long sigh crackled over the line followed by a pause. “Hey Jav… I guess I’ve paid for the next couple of minutes, I might as well use it. I suppose you’re already working late since it’s after eight. Don’t let them work you too hard, okay? And you should still return my call.” More dead air. “It feels silly to miss you as much as I do. I feel like I haven’t talked to you in days… Oh! I got into that class I was waitlisted for. Anne is willing to work with my school schedule so I still get my hours in at work.”

“Mommy!” A voice calls out in the background as a crashing sound follows it.

“Shit” The machine clicked off.

Javier woke up tangled in his navy sheets with the same stress headache and a greater hankering for a cigarette than he’d had in months. Katie slept soundly on her side next to him, back facing him. Her brown hair spread out over the pillow. She hadn’t tried to cuddle, and thank god she understood what last night had been.

Without a second though, he reached for her purse, careful not to wake the naked woman next to him as he eased into a sitting position. Relief flooded him when his fingers glided over the pack of cigarettes and lighter.

There was no hesitation as he put the cigarette to his lips and flicked the lighter to life. The nicotine flooded his body for the first time in months. Finally, he found some relief.

Journal Entry August 13th, 1994 Dear Javi,

I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m sure you’re okay. Dad said there were no reports of anything happening. You’re just busy, with your first week back and all…

Alejandra asks every morning if you called her back. Mateo asks too. I think he’s hoping for stories of chasing down bad guys. Even Miguelito asked about you.

We all miss you so much.

Javier played the voicemail over and over, but he couldn’t bring himself to call back. He hadn’t lasted a day into the job without reverting to old habits. He’d fooled himself into thinking things could be different, into thinking if he did this the right way, if he brought down Cali the right way, he could be worthy of her one day.

The whiskey burned on its way down.

Journal Entry August 15th, 1994 Javier,

I swear if you went and got yourself killed on your first week back, I’ll never forgive you. I won’t even say any nice words at your funeral. Imagine that, your best friend holding back all the nice things about you. The world can just remember you to be the asshole you showed them.

Seriously though, signs of life would be appreciated.

…………………………………………………………………..

Taglist: @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @burntheedges @southernbe @fanyyoouu @greengirlwurld

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @weho2kcmo

#scathed (javier peña)#javier peña x you #Javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña narcos #ppcu fanfiction #pedrostories #Pedro stories #em’s fics #javier peña series

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pattypanini · 10 months ago

Text

Lay All Your Love On Me Chapter 8- On the Edge

Jake Kiszka x Reader and Josh Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 8.9k

TAGLIST

AN: Hi everyone! Here is the eighth chapter of Lay All Your Love On Me from me and @mar-rein12! This is a CRAZYYYY one. We will be compensating for everyone's therapy for this chapter and the next. Enjoy the eighth chapter, On the Edge.

Warnings: 18+, SMUT: Oral (M receiving), Sexting, Degradation, praise, SUBBBBB JAKE...., Dom reader, Cum play, Edging, Phone Sex

Vomit

Oh fuck. It felt like you couldn’t get out of your bed fast enough, you just barely got to the bathroom fast enough before releasing your regrets of last night into the toilet. Ughhh. You wipe your face with toilet paper, feeling a sudden wave of relief. Last night was something. Something you slightly forget, but also don’t. Ew. You walk over to the sink to rinse your mouth out with water and give them a quick brush before going back to bed.

When you wake up again, you roll over to your phone to check the time. 12:14pm. Not too bad for only having one class today. You saw a few messages on your phone but first a message from the GroupMe the musical uses to communicate.

9:47am Dr.Coleman: Hello everyone. Due to unforeseen events, practice will be canceled for today. Although, I can not force you to do anything I would highly recommend reading over your parts because we will be doing a full walk through sometime next week. I know it may seem early but we have to be prepared. See you All on Monday. Have a good weekend!

“Yessss.” You flop right back onto your bed and text Josh.

12:17pm y/n: I’m so happy we don’t have practice. What time did you wanna call tonight so I can make sure I’m free?

12:20pm Josh: Is 11 okay?

12:22pm y/n: Sounds good, my last class is done at 5 so I’ll get dinner with my friends and chill til then.

12:23pm Josh: I can’t wait, beautiful, I’ll be thinking about you 😘

You really liked this side of Josh, it gave you butterflies in your stomach. He was being so sweet to you, but you’d be met with completely different texts from his other half.

Holy shit. The texts that you received from Jake last night were far from being sweet and innocent.

1:37am Jake: Fuck y/n, you’re a dirty fucking slut. Grabbing yourself like that. Trying to lick yourself, I can do that for you baby. I’ll please you.

1:39am Jake: God you make me wanna touch myself. You bring out a different side of me. You take control of me, make me wanna do disgusting things. I bet you like that though.

1:40am Jake: I’m going to make good use of that pretty mouth tomorrow. You understand that? You're my dirty little secret, and I’m gonna get all the use out of you until this comes to an end. Just like these slutty pictures and videos you sent.

1:51am Jake: 1 Attachment: 1 Video 1:51am Jake: Fuck baby, you make me a mess. You see what you do to me, you make me cum so fucking hard. I wish your mouth was around my cock. That's what I think about, those beautiful lips of yours wrapped around my fat cock. Choking and gagging you, while I’m so deep down your throat.

1:52am Jake: I wish I could see your perfect tits as much as my fucking brother. It's not fair that he gets to see them just because he’s casted as your ‘love interest.’ If I knew it would be like that, I would have tried out.

He was really going through it last night, but what did he mean by ‘using that pretty mouth tomorrow?’

12:31pm y/n: Looks like you had a pretty late night, did you miss me?

12:33pm Jake: I did, but you seemed to have an eventful night too. I saw your private story. You looked drunk off your ass, how much did you drink?

12:35pm y/n: 2 shots of vodka, Long Island iced tea, Strawberry Daiquiri, Corona, maybe something else Idk. I kinda forgot honestly.

12:39pm Jake: What the fuck, how in the hell did you not get alcohol poisoning?!

12:41pm y/n: My body is immune I guess. I’m fucking feeling it this morning though, trust me. Now let me ask you a question. When you said ‘I’m going to make good use of that pretty mouth tomorrow,’ was that an in the moment thing or…

12:43pm Jake: Wouldn’t you like to know. Just keep your phone nearby today during class. See you later darling😘.

What the fuck does that mean. You decide to try your best to ignore it, getting ready for your day as usual. Even though you were doing the utmost to shake it from your brain, Jake was still lingering in the back of it.

—

You’re bored out of your mind, sitting there in your free elective, Introduction to Ethics. You completely regret taking this course, even though you heard it was an easy A. You thought about what would be happening this weekend, you were a little stressed. Hanging out with Josh and staying over at his apartment is one thing. But knowing Jake would also be there was stress inducing.

You were zoning out, only catching glimpses of the professor’s lesson. The boy next to you was very focused and interested, two things you were not. You glance over at him very unsubtly, taking a quick peek at his notes. His paper is almost completely filled up, whereas yours is still absolutely blank. His gaze catches your eye and he takes a look down at your notebook. He notices the empty page and lightly pushes his notebook over to you, allowing you to snap a quick photo.

“Thank you, I owe you one,” you send him a flirty wink.

He looks down at his paper, blush forming across his pale, freckled cheeks. “Anytime and if you need help with anything I can always be your tutor.” He pulls his notebook back and begins to scribble on it again.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smirk at him. You were in fact not going to be keeping that in mind because the class was easy as fuck. You just didn’t find the subject interesting enough for you to care. You didn't care about moral relativism or utilitarianism, you just wanted to get out of the class.

You feel a vibration from under your thigh where your phone was located. You reach under and grab it, checking the notifications.

4:17pm Jake: Where are you?

4:18pm y/n: In class

4:18pm Jake: No shit, what building are you in?

4:19pm y/n: I’m in Angell, room 2224

4:20pm Jake: Okay, I’m on my way.

Why is he coming to my class? You were beyond confused, but since you were on your phone you decided to do some mindless scrolling through instagram. A few minutes later, another text comes through.

4:28pm Jake: Come outside the classroom, bring your stuff.

4:29pm y/n: Why?

4:29pm Jake: Stop fucking questioning me and get your ass outside.

You gather your things and quietly slip out the door. Your professor sends a little wave and a smile as you walk out the door, you reciprocate the gesture.

As you step out of the classroom you look left to see no one, then right to see Jake sitting on the cushioned chairs outside the classroom. When he looks up from his phone he stands and darts to the right making his way down the hall. You follow behind not knowing where he is going.

“Jake, where are you going?” Your legs pick up the pace. “If you're gonna make me leave class, at least have a reason.”

He stops suddenly, turning towards you grabbing your wrist. “I said stop asking fucking questions or else.” He throws your wrist back down and restarts his mission.

“Or what, Jake? You can’t do anything out here.” You boldly snap back at him.

“You're right, I can’t.” He grabs your wrist once more and drags you quickly to a specific classroom. When he pulls you inside you can barely see a thing. There are no windows, just a cement room, with a single skylight lighting the middle of the tiny classroom. You hear the sound of the door locking as he stands in front of it.

“Get on your knees.” You hesitate, everything happening so fast. “I said get on your fucking knees y/n, or are you deaf?” His aggressiveness takes you back a bit. You shrug your backpack off, then slowly make your way onto your knees.

“I’m gonna say it once, what you did last night was slutty. Teasing me with that fucking video knowing I couldn’t do anything about it other than touch myself. So you're gonna pay me back and use your mouth the way it should be used, sucking my cock. Not trying to suck your own tits, got it?”

“Oh! So, that’s what this is?” You push him back against the door, slowly begin to unbuckle his pants. “Poor Jakey just needs his cock sucked? You’re just so desperate for a blowjob that you use my video from last night as an excuse to get one. You know I could have been sucking some other guys dick last night.” You pull his boxers down releasing his cock, slapping against his stomach. “Does that make you mad, knowing my lips could have been wrapped around some other guy's cock, not having to keep it a secret.” You press light kisses onto his throbbing tip. “So fucking horny for me baby, so I will suck you off, but tell me why you actually want me here.”

He looks down to you, completely in awe. “I needed you baby. That video you sent me last night was so fucking hot. I just need you to suck my cock, please, I’m begging.”

You teasingly lick a stripe up the underside of his dick, not making any moves to go further.

“You're gonna have to beg a lot more Jakey, you think you’re in charge here but you’re not, and I’ll tease you as long as I want until I think you’ve earned it.” Placing a few more kisses down his cock.

“Please baby, I’m so fucking desperate for you. I cum just thinking about you at night, thats how fucking bad I need this. All I’ve ever wanted was your lips wrapped around my cock. I hear people talk about it and it makes me want it even more. Making the excuse is all I could think of to get you to suck me off because I didn’t wanna beg, but I will. Please y/n, I’m so fucking horny for you I need this.” He looks down to you with begging eyes.

“Such a good boy, Jakey.” You say as you once again take his cock into your hand. You hear him whimper slightly under his breath. “Does someone like being called that? You put up this dominant front, but you're just a little bitch who wants to be told what to do. Isn’t that right?’

Another whimper escapes his lips, solidifying the fact that yes he did enjoy being called ‘a good boy’.

“Tell me what you think about baby, tell me all the things you think about alone when you're jerking off. If you stop, I'm gonna leave you to finish it yourself.” You fire at him, you feel your own wetness beginning to pool in your panties.

Jake’s POV

Fuck. You almost came just from that alone. This is everything you’ve ever wanted. Since freshman year, you had it bad for her. Hearing what she did to all those other guys made your blood boil. But now it's your turn. You were her bitch and you couldn’t give one shit.

“Please y/n I’m so desperate I’ll tell you anything.” You can’t help but be a submissive mess for her, she just has such a fucking hold on you.

“So tell me Jakey, how long have you been thinking about me when you touch yourself, and what you think about.” She takes your cock all the way into her mouth, pulling it back out, sending your head against the door. “Oh and Jake…” You look down on her. “No cumming til I say so, got it?”

“Fuck- anything for you, darling, anything,” You whine out as she bobs her head up and down, slowly, on your throbbing cock.

She looks up to you with her big doe eyes, waiting for you to start talking.

“Oh fuck, um, the first time I saw you, you were all- all I could think about.” You struggle to get any of your sentences out, as she resumes her painfully slow bobbing on your dick.

“I would look at your insta all the time. I would think about what it would be like to get with you. I would purposefully go to the dining hall when I knew you’d be there, oh fuck, just to get a good look at you.” Your breathing picked up as soon as y/n started humming around your cock, inducing an unholy moan to release from your throat. “Once it started getting around to the school that you were just sleeping around I was pissed, not at you, but at the guys you got with. I wanted- fuck- I wanted nothing more than to be one of those guys.” She picks up the pace on your cock, making you close to losing it. “And since I couldn’t be one of those guys, I thought about what it would be like.”

You shut your mouth, trying your very best to stop your moans from slipping past your lips. You’re silent for a few minutes as she continues to work on your cock, but after noticing the silence she pulls away.

“Are you scared someones gonna hear baby, isn’t this what you wanted? You wanted to let everyone know that I sucked your thick cock. That’s all you’ve ever wanted, so enjoy it baby. Savor it. Or else you're not cumming, at least not from me, you can do it yourself. Slut.” She was spurring you on, bringing you even closer to orgasm.

You watch her intently as your hands travel to the shoulders of her shirt, balling them up in the palms of your hands. She slows down and pulls her mouth off slowly, leaving a string of saliva hanging from her lips connecting her to your dick. “You want this off Jakey?” She says grabbing at her shirt. You nod frantically, your eyes fully concentrated on her. “All you have to do is ask, tell me what you want.”

“Please y/n take off your shirt, let me see your perfect tits.” She smiles back up to you. Her hands grab at the hem of her shirt, swiftly pulling it over her head, leaving her in nothing but a little baby blue mesh bra. It wasn’t covering much, because you could fully see her nipples through it. “Please baby, can I take it off. I wanna see everything. Wanna see your pretty tits” She nods, your hand trailing behind her back, clipping it off her and letting it fall to the ground.

“Such a slutty man, I like that.” She brings her hand near her mouth before spitting into it, and pumping your cock. “Now tell me what you think about Jake, you know… when you're jerking yourself off to me like a fucking whore.” She’s gonna be the death of you.

“I think about a moment just like this, you sucking my cock. Most of the times I finish in your mouth and you swallow it, but other times I- fuck- I cum on your tits.”

She smiles up at you with a malicious look on her face. “I like that idea, wanna make that happen right now.”

“Ughhh fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum.” Your hand goes to her head, pushing her mouth back down around your cock. “Please let me cum baby I’m so close.” Her head bobs up faster and faster.

She pulls back for a moment and continues jerking you off. “Cum for me Jakey, show me how much of a good boy you are. Come on, cum all over my tits Jake, fulfill that fantasy, you dirty little slut.” With a few more pumps you're on the edge and can’t take it any longer. You release all over her tits along with screaming her name.

“Fuck y/n… Holy shit baby. You’re fucking perfect.” You say as you’re panting for air.

She looks up to you while her fingers go to her tits, gathering as much cum as she can get before sucking it off her fingers, continuing her deep eye contact.

“You’re a fucking maniac. You make me wanna tell everyone about you, I want you so bad.” She begins to stand up wrapping her bra back on her.

“You wish, Jakey.” She grabs her shirt pulling it back over her head. “Hopefully that’ll hold you over, and give you something new to think about. See you soon.” She sends a wink your way as she grabs her bag and makes her way back out the door she just came from.

Wait- what the fuck just happened?

y/n’s POV

As you make the grueling walk back to your dorm you take a moment to reflect on your actions of today. If someone had told you a month ago that you’d just finished sucking off Jake Kiszka in an empty classroom, you’d never believe them. Especially a begging submissive one, but I guess that’s just the effect you have on people.

As you open the door you’re met by Charlotte sitting on the couch staring at you like a parent waiting for their child to come home from a late party. She sat there with her arms crossed as if she was sitting there for a while just waiting for you to walk in. She glares at you as you drop your backpack off at the door.

“Where were you?” She questions beginning to cross her legs.

“In class?” You give her a weird look. Why is she interrogating you?

“Wellllll, you are late getting home. You usually get back around 5:15ish, it's 5:47, why so late.”

“Why are you acting like the police? It just took me longer to get back today, that's all.” You begin to walk back to your room, but Charlotte follows quickly behind you.

“Well that’s what I’d normally expect, but Sierra told me you left class early today, and she wondered if you went home because you were sick. So I just wanna know where you were.” She raises an eyebrow at you.

Shit.

“Well, I wasn’t feeling good so I went to the bathroom, I threw up a little.” You’re quick to defend yourself, hoping she won’t see through your lies.

“Makes sense. I know you like giving head, but I didn’t think that meant you’d start throwing up cum, you know since it’s dried up around your mouth.” You quickly look in the mirror. There it was a little patch of dried cum right in the corner of your mouth, definitely not one of your best moments.

“And not to play investigator but I went onto snap maps and saw that Josh was on the other side of campus, so who were you with y/n? Oh wait, I actually know because I saw you and another familiar bitmoji in a random classroom. So how long have you been fucking Jake Kiszka?” Charlotte shot you a knowing look, as you sigh in defeat.

“Ugh fine. We fucked ONCE, okay? Just one time. It was nothing serious.” You shrug it off as if it was nothing. Charlotte’s eyes widen, and you feel a pang of guilt sharpen in your chest. “Plus it’s not like Josh and I were a thing. That was all after he stormed off about being friendzoned.”

“Oh my fucking God. Does Josh know?” She questions you, you could tell she felt a little hurt that you’d kept such a thing from her. You usually tell each other everything.

“Umm, not really. So, you CAN NOT tell him, understand?” You were practically begging her, you couldn’t risk Josh finding out.

“You know I can’t lie.” She says with her puppy dog eyes.

You sigh, “I know Char but you need to not say anything. Okay? Don’t be around him, avoid him.”

“Okay I’ll try, so you guys just fucked in that classroom?”

Now realizing there is more to the story and you have exposed yourself you decide to come clean.

“Well not technically…”

“But you said you only did it once… OMG. y/n. It has happened more than once. When?”

I’m going to hell.

“Umm, the night I went to apologize to Josh.” You avert your eyes to the floor, avoiding eye contact. You were embarrassed and ashamed.

“HOLY SHIT y/n.”

“I know, I know it sounds bad, but when I went over he wasn’t there. But Jake was, and he comforted me. And then he fucked me, like it was crazy.” You put your forehead in the palm of your hands,realizing everything you just said. “OMG Char! Wait, never mind its TMI.”

“NOPE share you shouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t want me to know the details.” She smirks at you with her pink lips.

“I don’t know how else to say this then just say it so, he made me squirt.”

“OMG OMG WHAT. This is actually crazy y/n. You should be telling everyone this.”

“No that's the thing, this whole thing is a secret. You weren’t supposed to know. While Josh and I aren’t dating it would kill him to know I fucked his brother, you can not tell anyone. None of my friends, none of yours, don’t even think about it okay? After this conversation it never gets brought up ever again.” You stick your pinky out to her, waiting for her to reciprocate the action.

She can tell this is stressing you, so without a fight she sticks out, sealing the pinky promise. “Just one more question and then I’ll never mention it again. I promise, pinky promise.”

You roll your eyes, “What Char.”

“What did you actually do in that classroom today, then?” She was on the edge of her seat.

“I sucked him off, it was crazy Char. You're not gonna believe this when I tell you. But he was begging, and whimpering, it was insane. He was so submissive. I never pictured him to act that way”

Her jaw opens, not being able to hide her reaction. “And I found out that he 's liked me since freshman year and that he jerks off thinking about me. He spilled so much about what he was thinking about, it was foul.”

Her mouth turns into a huge open mouth smile. “OMG, Jake Kiszka being a sub is not what I had on my spring semester bingo card. Did he call you mommy?”

“OMG nooooo. N-no, he didn't.” You were a little flustered after picturing him saying it in your mind.

“Would you let him?”

“Um, I-I don't know. Need any more details about my sex life?” You joke to her.

“I just wish my life was this interesting, I’m living vicariously through my sweet y/n.” She smirks at you and playfully shoves your shoulder. You roll your eyes at her, a chuckle passing through your lips.

“I’m just saying I haven't gotten any action in a while. Whenever you and Jake are done just pass him over my way.” Charlotte winks at you and turns to exit your room. You sigh and collapse onto your bed.

Why did things have to be so complicated? Why did you have to have feelings for the Kiszka twins? You were so confused, and quite frankly didn’t know where to go from here.

You loved the thrill you got when you were with Jake, the unpredictability and excitement was all consuming in his presence. Whereas with Josh he was so sweet and a charmer, for sure. The Sun and the Moon. The light and the dark. And with each day passing by, you didn’t know if you were more eager for the light to slowly creep in or the darkness to encompass you.

The evening was boring up until dinner. You laid in bed, did some homework and watched a few episodes of Victorious with Char out in the living room. While in the middle of an episode you and Charlotte get a text from your groupchat.

7:18pm Ari: Wanna walk the track after dinner, have a little yap sesh?

Char looks to you for an answer, not wanting to make the decision herself. You nod and reply back.

7:18pm y/n: Yes def.

You make your way back to your room and grab a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt. You slipped on your Hokas and pulled your hair into a slick back ponytail. It had been a while since you ran and were looking forward to it. The musical has taken up most of your time so having time for your physical health would be nice.

Making your way to dinner, you and Char meet up with Ari and Mae, spending your time like you always do, ranting about your day and anything else on your mind. But the track was for gossip. What is said on the track stays on the track.

You take the first 30 minutes to run, pacing yourself and taking your breaks as needed. It had been a while so you were a little rough around the edges. After the first thirty you catch up to the group and join in on the convo.

“He’s actually so attractive though, like in a dilf-y way.” Char says.

“How old is he Char?” Ari asks, not knowing if she really wanted to know the answer.

“I don’t know, maybe like 50 something. He’s beekeeping age. OMG he actually keeps bees, that's so funny.” Char says giggling and twirling her hair around her finger.

“Char, have you ever heard of the term bimbo?” Mae asks sweetly.

“Um I don’t think so, what does it mean?” Char innocently questions.

“Doesn’t matter, just know you are one in the best way possible. You’re just so cute.” Mae replies.

Char smiles and keeps on walking with pep in her step. She's adorable.

“So y/n, are you gonna see Josh soon?”

“I am actually. I’m going to be calling him tonight to work on some musical stuff and tomorrow he’s taking me out somewhere.” You state.

“So a date? I thought you guys were just friends.” Char probes. You’re hoping and praying she does not bring up the things that went down between you and his twin.

“We are just friends.” You say sternly. “I’m sure it’ll be something casual, but I’m also hoping it’s somewhere nice. You know they have money to spend.”

“Maybe you’ll stay the night at his place. You’ll be able to see Josh and Jake.” She sends you a devious wink.

Are you serious Char? You shoot her a glare, telling her to knock it off. She catches your drift.

“But I’m sure you don’t wanna see Jake, I would want to though.” Char says with a smirk.

“Well you can have him Char. Maybe I’ll ask if he is looking for a cute ginger girl.” You joke around with her.

Deep down, you wanted Jake all to yourself and you couldn’t help but think he'd want the same. You know how bad he wants you, and knowing that makes you want him more. But there’s Josh. You couldn’t ruin your friendship with him, or did you want something more than just that too? It was all very confusing. But you knew at some point a decision would have to be made, but now was not the time for that.

“Omg I would be perfect for that position.” She says all giddy. Everyone rolls her eyes and laughs about her comments, she truly is a bimbo.

After walking for an hour, Mae somehow convinces everyone to hit legs. You didn’t mind though, you liked the way it made your body feel. How strong you felt after. At around 10:05 you all begin to make your way back to your dorms, saying goodnight to Ari and Mae for the night.

When you're turning the corner to go past the dining hall you run into some familiar faces, the Kiszkas. Along with them their third brother and dad. Your eyes shoot open and smile at them. You and Char slow up to say hi to everyone.

“Hi Josh.” You smile at him and then turn to Mr.Kiszka. “Hi Mr. Kiszka, I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” You reach your hand out to shake his. He grips your hand in his, giving it a firm shake.

“I know exactly who you are, y/n, I noticed you during last year's play. You did very well with your role, a very underrated character.” You thank him for noticing your talent. “My son has told me a lot about you.”

Oh shit. “Um, which son?” You giggle jokingly, but you're not joking at all. You look at Josh who is giving you a strange look, while Jake has a proud look across his face.

“Well Josh, unless you also know my son Jake.” He grabs Jake by the shoulder and shakes him a little, teasingly.

“I know Jake through Josh, never really got to know him though.” You look at Jake, who is shaking his head with a giant smirk plastered on his beautiful face. You turn your attention to the youngest of brothers, who was sporting a t-shirt and short shorts. He has gorgeous long hair that framed his face perfectly, it made you jealous. “I don’t think I’ve ever met you though?”

The youngest brother reaches out his hand for a shake. “My name is Sam, I might be coming here next year.” He smiles holding your hand a little longer than the average handshake, and with a little too much eye contact. You smile at him not wanting to be rude.

“That’s awesome, are you guys all taking a look around campus now?”

“No, no.” Mr. Kiszka butts in. “He has been here enough times to know the layout, we just came to visit these two, and go out for a quick dinner and go to see an old buddy who was in a band when I went here. I don’t know if you have plans, would you like to join us?”

You look at Charlotte who has a grin on her face. “No thank you sir, I hope you all have a great time tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow Josh. Goodbye Mr. Kiszka, it was nice to meet you.” You grin at him “It was also nice to meet you Sam, hopefully I’ll see you around next semester.” You say innocently, knowing that his intentions were to not come at all to college. Do you say bye to him? If you don’t it's even weirder.

“Nice to see you Jake. I hope you all have a good night.” You give a final wave before heading back to the dorm.

“That was awkward.”

“Oh shush it Char.”

As soon as you make your way into the dorm and the door clicks shut, you turn to Char.

“Char, did the convo we had earlier mean nothing, I said that information about Jake can not get out.” You widen your eyes at her, and you can tell she feels bad about it.

“I know I’m sorry. I wasn't even trying to bring it up, it just happened. I promise I won’t bring it up again.” She says with her big green eyes staring at you. You can’t stay mad at her. She has such a forgivable face. Which is probably why she’s able to get out of a lot of trouble when she is caught doing something she's not supposed to.

Like how Freshman year she was able to convince the police officer to not breathalyze her because she had asthma and didn’t want to start having a coughing fit. Somehow he believed her. Which you still don’t see how because she was absolutely obliterated and looked a complete mess.

“I’m gonna head out for a bit, Jonathan asked me if I wanted to stay the night at his place. So if you wanna have Josh over…”

“He will not be over, have a good night. Be safe.” You smile at her as she heads right back out the door.

After Char leaves, you shower and relax for a while until you receive a text from Josh.

12:23pm Josh: Hey I know it’s a little later now, if you don’t want to call I understand.

12:24pm y/n: I’d love to still call you Josh. Do you wanna facetime or call?

12:26pm Josh: Facetime, I miss your pretty face.

Oh jeez.

As your phone begins to dial, you do a quick check to see if you look okay. Your hair was beginning to dry and slight curls were beginning to form. You click the green button at the top of the screen and are met with a white ceiling.

“Josh?”

“Hey, sorry I was just getting in some pants, not that me being pantless would bother you.” He says as he drags a towel over his wet hair.

You roll your eyes, “Yeah Josh I definitely wanna be staring at your dick all night, sounds like a blast.” You say dryly, but knew that it wouldn’t be an awful way to spend the night. “So how was your evening with your family?”

“It was alright. My dad’s friend isn’t as good as he said he was, but what else is new. My dad seemed to really like you though, and my horny brother.”

You laugh at his statement. “What is that supposed to mean Josh.”

“Well as soon as we left and my dad was out of earshot he was saying some… things about you. So if he adds you on anything, don't add him back.” You check your insta and long and behold you had a new follower, @samfkiszka.

“Don’t worry I won’t, I don’t go for polite men anyways, that's why I got with you.” You say in a snarky tone.

“I was very kind to you.” A moment of silence. “Okay I wasn’t in the beginning but I am now, plus what he was saying when you were not there was far from polite.”

“Like what Josh, It can’t be any worse than what a normal highschool senior says.”

“Well if I remember correctly, and I have a fantastic memory, it was along the lines of, ‘well I normally wouldn’t go after older women but I wouldn’t mind a little cougar action. I mean her ass was pouring out of those tight, little shorts. I wouldn’t mind hitting it from the back, you wouldn’t know of any tattoos she would have on her back would you Josh?’”

Your jaw drops, “Um, well that wasn’t what I was expecting. I’ll make sure to steer clear from him.”

“Yeah he also said ‘that's another perk of coming to Michigan, the hot chicks, like Miss. y/n over there.’ It made me jealous.”

Jealous. Hmmmm.

“Really, Josh Kiszka is getting jealous, I would have never thought you’d admit it.” You say cocking your head to the side.

“Well, I don’t think anyone would be fond of hearing their younger sibling say that type of shit. Jake is different because we're like the same person. But my younger brother, um no.” He giggles.

Him and Jake were very much, not the same person. In more aspects than one. “So why didn’t your mom come up?”

“She was busy with my sister tonight. I don’t know if I ever mentioned her. She’s the middle child of all of us. But she doesn’t go here, she goes to a smaller college up north.” ‘

“Makes sense. Maybe I’ll meet her at some point. “ You hint to him. He smiles, but then goes quiet.

“I don’t know if this is too forward, and you don’t have to answer. We have been getting closer as friends and I just wanna know you and everything but dont feel the need…”

“Josh, please just spit it out. I promise I won’t get offended. You called me a slut like every single day so it probably won’t be that bad.”

“Yeah sorry about that. I just wanted to know about your mom. Like I know your parents are divorced but like do you still see her? I couldn’t imagine not seeing my mom.”

You sit there pondering on how to respond. You don't want him to feel sorry for you like how everyone else does, but you wanted to be honest with him.

“No, we don’t talk. We haven’t talked since I was maybe… what, like 10 years old? I have kinda lost track over the years.” You prepare yourself for the pity and sappy sympathy.

“Man, that must suck. And if you don’t mind me asking, why did they divorce?” You’re taken back by his bluntness, but it's also a little refreshing.

“I mean, yeah, at first it did suck but I’m used to it now. My mom was an addict. My dad tried to get her help, but she just refused. She stopped taking care of herself, then me. It wasn’t good. My dad had to divorce her and then he took her to a facility. She was there for a while and then I heard from family that she was out but relapsed right away. So I don’t know the current situation.” It was silent for a little, which is the normal reaction to everything. “Sorry if you didn’t want to know all of that, I just felt comfortable telling you. I haven't really told anyone else other than my close friends, but telling you felt right. I'm sorry.”

“y/n stop, you should not be sorry. I’m glad you opened up to me, I feel closer to you, in a different way than I ever have.” It was cute watching him get like this. He was very empathetic, in the best way he could. You could tell that he was not the type of person to be open with his feelings, or discuss others. You see him open his mouth to say something else but decide not to.

“I don’t expect you to make a whole speech about how it was wrong and that you feel bad. I’ve heard it all my life from whoever found out, well about the divorce part, not the drug part. That's a whole different thing. But just don’t see me differently. I just wanted to share because you asked and I felt comfortable telling you.”

He nods to you, still with a concerned look on his face. “Thank you for sharing, I promise I will never tell anyone. It sounds like a lot, but you turned out to be a really good person. Your dad must have done a good job raising you.” You smile thinking about your dad.

He was a tall skinny guy, similar to the statue of Coraline's dad. He wore his rectangle framed glasses and had a really good personality despite working in the office everyday. He always told you that you are his whole world, and that no matter what happened in his life, it would always get better when he remembered you and how proud he is of his daughter. He is dating Celia, his girlfriend, who you grew fond of over the years. She acted as the mom you never had growing up later in life. When your dad found out that you were going to Michigan he was upset that he wouldn’t be able to see his ‘little girl’ everyday, but he was so proud of you for getting into an amazing school. He is your biggest supporter, and you truly wouldn’t be who you are today without him.

“He did an amazing job raising me. I miss him so much.” The conversation made you realize you haven’t called your dad in a week or two, you were definitely going to have to call him soon.

“I know I always made fun of you for your, um, sexual history and other things, but I truly always saw you as perfect. With singing, acting, your personality, everything. I’ve never met a person who was as perfect as you in any aspect.”

“Josh, that was really kind of you. Like seriously it’s nice being told I’m more than just a slut for once. Like I’m aware I’m not the most prude person, but I don’t really care that I sleep around either. Being called a slut is whatever from random people but it hurts when you would do it. Especially because I wanted you to like me.” You shyly look at your comforter and play with the fabric.

“Well knowing that now I won’t call you that anymore. I promise, other than if the moment calls for it.” You scrunch your eyebrows.

“What type of moment?”

“You knowing when we are fucking and your doing something whoreish. But I don’t actually mean that you're a slut, just an in the moment type thing.”

“I get it. It’s bold of you to say that we’ll be fucking in the future.” You give him a smirk

He tilts his head to the side, giving you a ‘are you serious’ type look.

“What?” You question louder to him.

“We’ve been horned up for each other the past couple weeks and we're finally hanging out tomorrow night. I mean I don’t wanna predict anything but…”

“Well personally I was just thinking about the amazing night we had planned. I never even considered it.” Giving him a sarcastic look and a grin looking at his perfect face. “Your eyes look really pretty right now Josh.”

His cheeks begin to turn pink. “Are you trying to butter me up or something?”

“No. What, I can't just compliment you?”

“No you can. I love when you compliment me mama, it makes me feel good.” He smiles at you. “And when you give me other types of compliments, well those make me feel really good.”

“Like what Josh?” You giggle at him, prodding for more information.

“I really love when you call me names, and talk me through everything. Just thinking about it makes me horny. I wish you were here right now. I’d make you feel so good.”

“You can make me feel good tomorrow.” You say what you were both thinking about, knowing it was inevitable for it to happen.

“Or we help each other out right now?” He says with a devious grin on his face.

“I can’t really suck you off through the phone Josh.”

“Just talk to me mama, tell me all the things you would do to me if I was there.” You watch as his grin widens, his sparkling straight teeth shining through his pouty lips.

“What are you gonna do Joshy?”

“Well I’m gonna jerk myself off, and you can touch yourself, if you want. I wanna hear your pretty moans, don’t hold back for me, yeah? I want you to talk me through it, can you do that for me mama?”

You were taken aback. You never really did this with anyone, but you were an adventurous person and would try everything at least once.

“I can do that for you Joshy. I wanna see your body though. Can you tilt it down so I can see that perfect body of yours.”

He smirks at the camera before tilting the camera down, showing his bare abs and pants.

“I know you like my body mama. I love the way you feel me up and down during practice. Gets me going so much. Wanna take you right there on stage, so everyone can see.” Josh says as he begins to palm himself through his pajama pants. “Are you home alone?”

“I am, so I can be as loud as I want. Am I gonna be able to hear you Joshy?”

“Not as much as you. Jake is home in the living room.” Throwing his head back, moaning from the friction.

“Are you gonna be quiet for me, be a good boy and moan so just I can hear you.” You say in a low tone.

“I’ll be quiet for you mama. Just loud enough for your ears to hear, they're only meant for you.”

“Pull your pants down Josh. I wanna see that beautiful cock of yours, I know it's already hard as a rock and I haven’t even said much of anything yet.” You say licking your lips slightly.

“Just because we haven’t done anything doesn’t mean I wasn't thinking about it. Although I didn’t like Sam saying it, I couldn’t help but keep myself distracted during that show.” He pulls his pants down, releasing his cock. “I wanna fuck you so hard from the back, right in front of the mirror in my room. So I can see how good you look taking my cock.”

“Fuck, Josh. C-can I touch myself? You’re in charge, baby. What do you want me to do, daddy?” You grab your tit through your shirt, supplying yourself with the smallest amount of pleasure to at least get some relief.

“Well I didn’t tell you to start grabbing your tits, are you gonna listen to me or do your own fucking thing you brat.” He says sternly, obviously taking the more dominant role and you were thoroughly enjoying it.

“I’m sorry baby, what do you want me to do, I’m your puppet.” You let go of your tit, and give him your biggest puppy dog eyes.

“Well first I want your phone propped up so I can see your whole body, then I want you stripped on the bed, nothing on. Once you're done, lean yourself against your headboard and spread your legs.”

You follow his directions, putting your phone against the blankets at the end of your bed and spreading your legs, being completely vulnerable to him.

He bites his tongue, smiling. “What a pretty pussy. Such a shame I’m going to destroy it tomorrow.”

Your mouth opens and eyebrows raise in shock.

“Better keep that mouth shut y/n, or else I’m gonna have to come over and skull fuck you.”

Your lips slowly morph into a smile, as your hand begins to slowly start sliding down your stomach.

“Did I tell you you could touch yourself yet?” You shake your head ‘no’ at him. “That’s what I fucking thought.” You remove your hand from your stomach, and give him a little pout. “Such a sad little baby, can’t even keep her pretty little hands off her wet cunt.”

He loves the power he has over you, polar opposite of the demeanor his brother had earlier today.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and listen, because if you keep doing your own thing I’ll just jerk myself off, looking at that perfect body of yours.” He begins to work on himself after spitting in his hand.

“Can I touch myself now, I promise I’ll listen to you.” You sit there leaning against the headboard. Arms by your side.

“I want you to play with your tits first, spit on your hand and massage them, and pinch your nipples nice and hard. I’ll tell you when I’ve seen enough.”

You bring your hand up to your mouth, spitting into it. You stare at Josh, fondling them softly. “I wish these were your hands Josh. Yours are so big, and soft, god I wish they were in me.” You whimper letting your head push against the headboard exposing your neck.

“Oh I’ve missed that beautiful neck of yours, it's so perfect. Such a shame it’s going to be all bruised after tomorrow.”

Your open mouth turned into a smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, I’ll never say no. Oh god Josh can I please touch my pussy, it’s aching for touch.”

He smirks before giving you an answer. “One finger, that's it. Your gonna finger fuck yourself until I say you can do anything else.”

You begin to slide your hand down your stomach again, leading all the way down to your slick entrance. As you slip your middle finger in you moan, probably a little more than you had to, but you wanted to play it up for Josh. Give him something to remember.

“You’re so fucking sexy, I love hearing your little noises. Let them all out for me mama, don’t hold back.” You watch as he begins stroking himself faster and harder. The slapping noises drifting through the screen.

“Let me see that throbbing tip Joshy, rub it for me.” You curl your finger up trying to hit your sensitive spot, letting out a very real moan.

“You’re such a dirty girl baby. You should just come over and suck my cock. I don’t care that Jake is here, he can be jealous knowing he’ll never get that from you.”

That's awkward.

“I wish I could come over too, maybe you should come here.” You wink. He stops for a moment.

“Really? Because I will, don’t test me.”

“I’m just joking, I wanna do this with you. Try something new.” You pump your fingers into yourself even quicker, trying to get yourself there.

“You’re a fucking tease, you bitch. I can’t wait to have you all to myself tomorrow. You won’t be able to tease me, unless you wanna get punished. You don’t want that to happen do you.” He says in a sultry tone.

“Like I said I’ll never say no, you can punish me if you want, I’ll enjoy it.” Continuing to finger yourself, but needed more friction.

You let the palm of your hand grind against your clit, not worrying about your finger inside of you.

“You won't be enjoying it when I do it sweetheart. You’ll be moaning in pain, I won't hold back. Who knew Miss y/n liked a little pain with her pleasure?” He says with heavy breathing. He looks at you and his demeanor changes. “Hey, did I say you can rub your clit yet. I can see you grinding against it. Do you think I’m a dumbass?”

“Yeah.” You say under your breath hoping he wouldn’t hear.

“That’s one for tomorrow, keep it up and you’ll get more strikes added.”

“Added to what.” You ask, your heart thumping with anticipation.

“You’ll see, keep questioning and it’ll be two. Now be a good girl and lick yourself off your finger, then you can start rubbing your clit.”

You pull your finger up to your mouth making sure he sees you suck hard on it.

“So she can listen to directions, that's my good girl. Now go ahead and rub that throbbing clit for me baby. I know you want it so badly.” He smirks, picking up the pace on his cock again, moaning very quietly to not disturb Jake.

It didn’t take long to feel close to your climax after all that dirty talk and fingering. You began to moan louder letting him know you were close.

“Don’t you dare cum y/n. I told you I would tell you when to cum, if you want to you have to beg baby.” His voice was shaky, you knew he wasn’t too far behind you.

“Please Joshy, I need this, I wanna cum to you. I wanna see your perfect face while I finish. And I wanna see you cum all over yourself like a little slut. Please Ja-osh just let me.” You almost slipped, but you knew he didn’t catch it. He was too busy jerking off to everything you just said.

“God you make me go crazy, cum with me baby I’m so close. Oh fuck..mmm.” With that Josh came all over his perfectly sculpted abs, making your stomach flip. With a few more circles you were done. The wave of pleasure washed over your body.

“Oh fuck Josh. God, I feel so fucking good.” You say catching your breath. You grab your phone from the end of the bed. Throwing your blanket over your body. “Are you gonna make me feel like that tomorrow?”

“Way better than that baby I promise.” He says while he gets up to clean himself off.

“Okay well I’ll see you tomorrow then, just let me know when you're gonna come get me.”

“Wait.. I was actually thinking. Could you just stay on call tonight? I haven’t been sleeping the best and ever since that night at my house I’ve been thinking about how easy it was to fall asleep. If you don’t want to I get it but…”

“Of course Josh, anything for you.” You turn off your light and crawl into bed, seeing him mimic your moves.

“Goodnight mama.”

“Goodnight Joshy.”

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