#like getting pregnant is a big no no for me

[papaya-twinks]

merry christmas - l.n

Warnings: Smut, 18+, praise, choking, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink, mentions of sex toys, choking.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

“Look how happy they are,” you said, your voice a quiet whisper as you stood by your son and daughter’s room. Marshall was holding a little toy F1 car, zooming it back and forth, as Brittany carefully brushed the hair of a doll. 

“They’re so beautiful,” Lando whispered in acknowledgment, “just like their mama,”. You giggled as you felt his lips across your collarbone, peppering your skin with kisses, his warm breath spreading across your neck.

“Reminds me,” he said after a few seconds, taking the handle of the door slowly and moving it so only a sliver of yellow light could shine through, “haven’t given you your present,” he said, backing you from the children’s room.

“Lando, they’re still awake-,” you started, silenced by his finger on your lips. “You’ll just have to be quiet, then,” he said, walking you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed, your head falling onto the plush mattress with an ‘oof!’

“Marshall’s born in September, ain’t he?” Lando said, slowly dragging your shirt off, followed by your pajama pants, leaving you in your bra and panties as he threw his joggers off. “Yeah?” you said, confused where this was going.

“9 months before after December,” he hummed into your skin, massaging your breast through your bra. “Just like picturing me getting you all pregnant on Christmas,” he mumbled, kidding your lips softly as you giggled.

“You think about these things way too much,” you said, working at pulling juist joggers down, taking his thick, hard cock into your hand, spitting om the palm of your free hand and massaging it into his member, his lips meeting yours again.

“Now look what we have,” you mumbled into Lando’s lips, “a beautiful girl and a beautiful boy,”. Lando smiled, taking his cock from your hand as he pumped himself, trailing your panties down your legs with his other hand.

“Wanna get you pregnant again, just to see you all big and pretty,” he moved his cock to your entrance, slowly sliding into your folds, the room warmed and lit up by the fire in the corner as you moaned softly, keeping quiet.

“Maybe I can get you some toys for Christmas next time,” he mumbled as you blushed, imagining him using a vibrator on your sensitive clit…though nothing would beat his cock, never. It was too good, if you were honest.

You sighed contentedly, his cock pushing in and out of your wet folds as you moaned quietly, your whimpers mixing with his groans as he buried a hand into your hair, the other one wrapping round your throat - your favourite necklace.

You moaned again, going lightheaded with pleasure mixed with the feeling of his hand tightening round your neck, cutting off enough of your air for it to be a turn on rather than a huge restriction of oxygen. “Wanna see you pregnant so bad,” he repeated again.

You responded with a choked moan, grinding your hips down onto his for some more friction as he chuckled. “You’re always so needy,” he commented, moving the pad of his thumb down to massage small circles into your throbbing clit, extracting a whimper.

“Love my baby mama,” Lando kissed your cheeks, pulling you into a heated, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue battling yours as his hips snapped against yours - it was almost like he was trying to make you scream.

“Lando, s-slow down, oh m-my-,” you gasped, your eyes rolling back desperately, trying to contain your moans, the loud shrieks of pleasure threatening to fall upon your lips, but all he did was smirk and speed up.

You could half-remember how he’d fucked you before you had any kids, the bruising pace he’d ravage you at, the numerous noise complaints from your screams of his name, your nails clawing at his back.

“I’m g-gonna-,” you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence at the pace he was going, your boyd bouncing, your tits tight in one of his hands as he crashed his lips into yours, his hips snapping against yours as his thrusts became sloppier and messier.

His pace was savage, his cock plunging in and out of you, so fast you could barely comprehend it, before your orgasm hit like a ton of bricks, your body spasming as he panted into your shoulder, his seed spilling in thick hot ropes inside of you.

“F-Fuck,” he gasped, his eyes rolling shut as his legs shook. “M-Merry fuckin’ Ch-Christmas, babe,” he painted, sitting up straight as you laid there, snuggled into the pillows, your hair a messy, his hand detailing from your locks.

“Daddy!” a sudden voice yelled from the door as Lando’s eyes widened, hurriedly pulling on a shirt. “Marshall! What is it?” he rushed to the door, peaking out so his lower half wasn’t visible. “Brittany won’t give me back my car,”.

“Your car?” Lando said, discreetly pulling on his joggers as he made sure you were hid from view, “she has her doll, don’t she?”. Marshall pouted, nodding as he took his father’s hand, leading him to the play room.

“Daddy, it’s not fair!” Brittany whined, “I want a car too, why does Marshall get one and I don’t!?”. Lando sighed, running a hand through his curls. “What about…” he looked round, taking a little display McLaren car from the side.

“Here,” he handed it to Brittany as Marshall shrieked. “What?!” he gasped, “that’s not fair, daddy! Now she has the better one!” he whined. Oh god, sometimes Lando did wish maybe that Christmas Day hadn’t happened.

“Just…ugh, here!” he handed Marsh the other one, “but don’t you dare break those,” he said warningly, “I need to help mama shower, now,” he said, shutting the door, going to the room to see you still lying there. “Wanna shower?” he leaned against the doorframe.

“Absolutely,”.

[littleslaywrites]

joy to the world | spencer reid x bau!reader

summary: you surprise spencer with big news on christmas morning

word count: 1.1k

cw: fluff, pregnancy, mentions of birth control, JJ heavily featured (no jeid mentions)

The presents had all been opened, and you were sitting on the couch with Spencer in front of the fireplace. Crackles from the fire mixed with the sound of the radio playing Christmas music. You were dipping cookies you’d made the night before in a shared glass of milk. His arm is wrapped around your waist and your head is on his shoulder. 

You'd been anxious all day, waiting for the right time to give him his last gift. You knew he’d be excited, but you also knew it’d change your whole lives. 

It had been just over a week since you’d found out you were pregnant. JJ was the first to know, being the one who suggested it as a possibility. You’d been nauseous for a week, hardly having the appetite for anything. Any strong smell made it worse. JJ has suspected something was up, but what made her voice it to you was when you mentioned your period was late. It was a passing comment, but she pulled you aside, mid-case, insisting that you take a test. 

“Could you be pregnant?” she asked, whispering as to not alert the others in the local police office you were set up in. 

“I mean, I guess,” you said, trying to remember if you had missed a pill recently. You realized that, with your frequent time zone changes, you had probably mixed up times at some point. “Oh god, yeah, I could be.”

“What are you thinking?” JJ asked, sensing your nervousness. 

You had talked about having kids with Spencer, so you were sure he’d be excited, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. 

“I’m thinking a lot of things,” you respond. She grabs one of your hands, subtle enough to not draw attention. 

“We can find a drugstore tonight and get a test for you,” she says as the two of you are called back into the conference room. 

That night, you two gathered in your hotel room. The test sits face down on the bathroom counter, phone timer counting down. When the alarm goes off, you don’t move from where you’re sitting side-by-side on the floor. 

“Turn it over,” you tell JJ.

“Me?” she says. The two of you go back and forth on who has to turn it over, giggling like school girls. Your play argument ends with the decision that you’ll flip it together. 

“What do you want it to say?” she asks when both of you are standing in front of the test. 

“I think…” you hesitate for a second, considering the two possibilities. “I think I want it to be positive.”

You imagine your life with Spencer as a family, creating a new human that’s half him, half you. 

The two of you count down from 3, flipping it over, revealing the tiny words. 

Pregnant

“Oh my god,” you say, glancing over at JJ.

“Oh my god!” she says, grabbing you by the arms. “You’re going to be a mom!” She’s jumping up and down, almost more excited than you are. You’re standing there in shock as she pulls you into a bear hug.

Pulling back, she asks “How are you going to tell Spencer?”

That’s how you two came up with the idea to tell him on Christmas. JJ knew just as well as you did that Spencer would be overjoyed. You could hardly keep the secret from him, wanting to tell everyone you knew. Penelope knew something was up, catching onto the looks JJ gave you. It was torture not being able to tell her, wanting Spencer to find out before the rest of your team. It was almost impossible to have any secrets in an office full of profilers. 

“I’ve got something else for you,” you say as Spencer is cuddling you with the cookie tin on top of his legs. 

“What is it?” he says. 

You stand up, getting the small gift bag you had hidden inside your closet. “So, you know how you like to journal?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I got you one that you’ll be needing soon.”

You hand him the gift, sitting back down as your heart pounds inside your chest. 

He opens it, revealing a small book that says “First Time Dad’s Journal” on the front. 

You try to read Spencer’s eyes, shuffling through a range of emotions. “Are you…” he trails off, meeting your eyes. 

“Yeah,” you say smiling. He grabs your hands in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” he says, borderline giddy.

“Completely serious.”

He pulls you close, holding you tight. When he pulls away, you see light tears brimming in his eyes. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” He lightly kisses you, smiles breaking across both your faces. 

“Who knows?” he asks, keeping your hands locked inside his. 

“Just JJ. She was there when I found out, but I wanted you to know before everyone else.”

Spencer can’t stop smiling. His eyes are studying you, seeing you in a whole new way. “When will we tell them?”

“I guess we have to tell Hotch pretty soon. Once we tell Penelope, I’m sure everyone else will find out.” You both giggle, imagining how she’ll react. 

The moment settles, both of you slipping into the quiet of the evening. You find a place again at his side, him holding you even closer than before. 

“I want to be a good dad for you,” he says quietly, “for you both.”

“I know you will.” There’s no doubt in your mind. You’ve seen him with kids before. “You being worried shows that you care.”

He hums, hand finding your stomach. “I just don’t want to be like my father,” he says, almost whispering. 

“You won’t. You’re already nothing like him.” One of your hands goes to his hair, playing with it. You wish there was a way to make him know how perfect he’ll be as a father. He’ll know when the baby gets here, you think. 

Silence overtakes you, the both of you imagining your new future. You’d always planned on having children, but it felt more real than ever before. You can almost picture another set of legs running around the apartment. 

Your phone rings, breaking through the quiet. You answer it, Hotch on the other end apologizing for interrupting your holiday to inform you that you have a case. 

Getting ready to go, Spencer stops you in front of the bathroom mirror by hugging you from behind. 

“Please don’t get all overprotective,” you say.

“You know I can’t promise that.”

Spencer pulls you into one last kiss before you head to the office.

author's note: merry christmas to all of you that celebrate!

[theogbadbitch]

Late reblog because you posted on this on my birthday and I was sick as a dog! But I’m here now🙂‍↕️

"Right," Patrice exclaimed. "Maybe I had a bad batch or something. It doesn't taste bad, but it smelled awful." Hmmm

“You don't know if Terry is even in here, mama. He could be anywhere in the house," Patrice answered, her face screwed in confusion.” They not fooling nobody, if Patrice is anywhere so is that man

“If he could quit his job and be totally devoted to her pleasure, he would do so without a second thought. “ a REAL man

“Easy, baby," she complained as she gently pressed down on his arms to direct him away from the sensitive area. "They're super tender right now. I'm not sure why." 👀

“Terry opted to tat their wedding date on his ribs after having to be talked down from plastering her name on his neck.” He SO real

“I noticed. They've honestly been looking a little bigger. Do they feel heavy to you?" Ain’t no damn way they both this clueless

“I spend a lot of time with my girls. I better notice when they change. Been looking at them since I was sixteen." Terry answered, a boyish grin making his cheekbones nearly touch the corner of his eyes.” OH???

Terry:

“Looking was the least of what I was doing." He shrugged as he gently pushed both breasts together for his own viewing pleasure.” What you mean by that sir???

“ a single drop began to make a trail down the swell of her breast, he pulled the ice away and brought his mouth closer. "And I'll take care of the hot." They are so damn freaky this why Patrice is…nvm🌚 carry on

“Imani entered the house high off the exhilarating freedom that can only come for night drives with a carefully curated playlist blasting from the speakers.” HELLO???????

“Girl, you do not have to explain anything to me. This is your house! Honestly, if I had those big ol' mommy titties, I'd want them in somebody's face too. And you got them for free! The girls gotta go under the knife or get pregnant for those.” Imani immediately clocking it like baby the proof is in the pudding

They are both deeply unserious people.

Caught

Summary: When their guest is away, Terry and Patrice will play.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,067

Warnings: Smut (18+ content)

Recommended Reading: Spoiled

Author's Note: Spoiled, Back Up, and Caught all happen on the same linear timeline. Consider them present day events. Hopefully that helps pull things together because you'll need the context later. Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!

"Mommy, the recipe for the hand pies is so good. Thank you for finding it for me." 

"Oh, of course, baby. One day, I gotta get you to help me put all your Nana's recipes in a book or something. I'm tired of digging through all these scraps of paper." 

"I didn't wanna say anything, but that's insane. I can barely read her handwriting." 

Rosalyn scoffed on the other end of the phone line. "You and me both. I have to call Sybil every time or end up making up what I think goes there. I cook. I don't decipher chicken scratch."

Patrice laughed along with her mother as she passed a piping hot meatball over her shoulder to satisfy her taste tester for the night. He hummed his approval of her gift, providing a thumbs up as his rating before returning his hand to her waist and swaying them in time with the slow rhythm of Christmas music playing in the background. 

Christmas Eve brought preparation for the big day on the other side of a wake-up and a smaller get-together to celebrate Imani's and Jesus's birthdays in one evening. Patrice had offered to continue the tradition at her house to accommodate her cousin's request for loud music, liquor, and good, grown folks' fun. In a few short minutes, she and Terry would have a house full of adults gorging themselves on party food and fighting fits of giggles during a drunk game of Taboo. For now, she'd enjoy the calm before the storm with her shadow attached at the hip.

"The cinnamon smell for the apple version was way too strong, though. I almost skipped those altogether." 

Rosalyn responded with a sound of cautious curiosity. "Really? You usually love the smell of cinnamon." 

"Right," Patrice exclaimed. "Maybe I had a bad batch or something. It doesn't taste bad, but it smelled awful."

"Hm." Rosalyn filed the information in her head for a later moment of privacy, preferring not to stress her daughter with the questions buzzing around in the mind of a mother who knew her child better than anyone in the world. Instead, she continued. "Terry, did you like the hand pies?"

"You don't know if Terry is even in here, mama. He could be anywhere in the house," Patrice answered, her face screwed in confusion.

"Child, don't insult me. If you're in the kitchen, Terry is in the kitchen."

She wasn't wrong. A few too many glasses of Patrice's special holiday cocktail mixed with his ever-present desire to feel his wife at all times had Terry sticking to her like glue. Even after she'd given in to each of his kisses and allowed him to taste her the moment Imani stepped out to run a few errands, she still couldn't shake him. Whiskey was in control. Terry was only along for the ride.

He chuckled into the crook of Patrice's neck before confirming his presence. "Yes, ma'am, I loved the pies. Treece made a few on the side for me so I wouldn't have to share." 

"She still got you spoiled, I see."

"Nah, not too bad. You know she gets sweet once a week. I caught her on a good day." 

"Oh, hush."

Patrice's attempt to get out of Terry's grasp came up empty, prompting him to hold her tighter and press wet kisses onto the back of her neck. She was sadly mistaken if she thought she could get away from him that easy while Uncle Nearest was pumping through his veins. 

"Well, let me let you two go," Rosalyn started with a small laugh. "Tell me how the chicken salad turns out. I might throw some together as a little snack for your daddy tomorrow. You know how he gets when he's ready to eat." 

"Mhmm. Just like somebody else I know."

Terry patiently waited for Patrice to wrap up her conversation and safely end the call before resuming his handsy approach to PDA. His hands slid up and down the fabric of her cotton pajama pants, the pair matching his at her request. Full lips attached to her neck, creating a light suction with every open-mouthed kiss. 

His wife rolled her eyes as she loaded a pita chip with dip for his culinary opinion. "You are insatiable, TJ. Taste this." 

He obliged, opening wide as she slid food into his mouth and waited for a response. Instead of a verbal assessment of her work, he kissed her cheek twice to signal his approval, then returned to his shameless groping.

"How long before Imani gets back?" 

"I don't know. Fifteen minutes or so. She only went to grab some more cups and water." 

Terry's eyes flickered to the digital clock on the stove before sliding his hands up Patrice's torso and leaving a trail of kisses on her shoulder. "Think you got a few minutes to get back to what we started?" 

"Haven't you had enough of me yet? We've been going at it every day since New Orleans."

"What you think?"

Having enough of her touch, the feeling of her body against his, or her attention was a foreign concept for Terry. If he could quit his job and be totally devoted to her pleasure, he would do so without a second thought. Fortunately for him, though, extended absences from the slough of office life due to the holidays provided the closest opportunity to spend the whole day in it. 

Patrice smiled to herself as Terry slowly removed the serving spoon from her hand, bringing her delicate palm up to the back of his head. Coarse hair grown into a short tuft of curls and shaped by his barber tickled her fingertips as she closed her eyes, officially caught up in how Terry caressed her with the care afforded to precious works of art. 

A low purr slipped past his lips as his hands slid beneath the hem of her camisole to rub her stomach, filling her ears and mind with filthy sounds and images from earlier in the hour. Had he had enough of her? She wasn't sure she'd had enough of him. 

His fingertips inched higher, further intoxicating Patrice until a full squeeze on both breasts at the same time made her hiss and wince in pain. 

"Easy, baby," she complained as she gently pressed down on his arms to direct him away from the sensitive area. "They're super tender right now. I'm not sure why." 

Lust was quickly replaced by concern as Terry dropped his hands and turned Patrice to face him. "You okay?" 

"I'm fine, Pooh. It's probably the tattoo healing. 

"Yeah, but it shouldn't be making the entire area hurt. Especially not on both sides. Let me look."

"Terry, you never just look."

His attempt to slide the thin straps of her tank top down her arms was quickly cut short as Patrice brushed off his contact to save herself from what she assumed would come next. Her aching was a serious matter. Terry getting a look at her bare tits was not nearly as high on the list. 

Terry softened his eyes in unmistakable sincerity. "I'm serious, Treece. I know what it should look like. Come here."

Patrice didn't protest as Terry led her to the kitchen table. She stood perfectly still until Terry was comfortable in one of the chairs and then placed her between his legs. 

He gingerly pushed her tanktop straps down her arms before bunching the thin fabric at her waist to free her breasts, watching for any sign of discomfort.

"You don't think you're like…sick, do you?" 

"I think it's just tenderness," she quickly retorted, wanting to push the thought of more grave explanations for her discomfort far from her mind.

"Okay, okay. I'm only asking." 

Her brows furrowed as he lifted the right side to get a look at the moment from a charged few days in his family's old stomping grounds. 

A day alone and nothing to do but explore had them wandering into the same shady tattoo parlor where Terry got his first piece for matching ink. Terry opted to tat their wedding date on his ribs after having to be talked down from plastering her name on his neck. Patrice, however, was set on making her first experience one to remember. 

Slanted script crafted from his handwriting spelled Terry's full first name, curving just under the crease of her boob and the spot that he liked to grip in the depths of passion or simply at his leisure. Terry ran his thumb along each letter to check for abrasions or abnormalities. 

He looked up at Patrice to gauge her reaction. "That hurt?" 

"Not really. It's more here," she added, gesturing toward her areola. "Anything rubbing against it is so uncomfortable. I can barely wear a bra." 

"I noticed. They've honestly been looking a little bigger. Do they feel heavy to you?" 

"Not heavy. Mostly…full? They look great, though. I'm not complaining about that part." 

She joked, the attempt sounding silly once it received no reaction past Terry blinking as he used the pad of his thumb to ghost contact over her pebbled nipple to test her pain level. It was challenging to stay present, with a third of her upper half unnecessarily exposed in their kitchen for no real reason. The entire ordeal felt like a farce. Terrence wasn't a doctor, and him holding her titties in his hands like fleshy snowglobes was as much an actual check-up as WWE was real wrestling. 

When she giggled like a teenager learning about sex for the first time, Terry looked up at her with a quizzical expression, and his left eyebrow lifted high. "What's so funny?" 

"You, Doctor Richmond," she laughed. "How can you tell they're bigger? I couldn't even tell until the other day." 

"I spend a lot of time with my girls. I better notice when they change. Been looking at them since I was sixteen." Terry answered, a boyish grin making his cheekbones nearly touch the corner of his eyes. 

"I knew you used to look!" She exclaimed, finally feeling vindicated in her suspicions from childhood. 

"Looking was the least of what I was doing." He shrugged as he gently pushed both breasts together for his own viewing pleasure. He kissed the small crease they made two times over, then looked up at Patrice through long lashes. "Unfortunately, ma'am, I couldn't diagnose you, but I think I have some treatment available if you're interested." 

Patrice bit back a smile to play along. "Oh yeah? How much is this gonna cost? It's the holidays, and I ain't got it." 

"I offer payment plans that we can discuss in that room back there later tonight." 

"I like the sound of that," she answered, previous problems vanishing into thin air as he roped her back into his web of liquor-charged desire. 

"I knew you would," he winked. "Don't move."

Tingles rippled across Patrice's skin while she listened for any indication of Terry's secretive treatment plan. The soft crack and subsequent rush of cool from the freezer created goosebumps on her bare chest, making her nipples jut out proud from the sensation. Next came the cupboard opening and shutting in two seconds time. From the direction, she could tell he was grabbing a glass from over the sink. 

Ice cubes clinked against the cup like little masters of whispers attempting to give Patrice the scoop on what to expect. Terry quietly shut the freezer and took heavy steps back to his seat, smiling at how Patrice truly hadn't moved a muscle in his few minutes away. 

He placed the glass on the table behind him before tugging her hand to guide her closer. "Cold hot therapy. I sprained my knee once, and this got me back up and running in no time. Ice for the cold…" Terry's voice trailed as he plucked a piece of ice from his glass and pressed it to her nipple. He watched her jaw drop with a sharp inhale, intently focused on the way her eyelids fluttered closed at the sudden shock of frozen water. When a single drop began to make a trail down the swell of her breast, he pulled the ice away and brought his mouth closer. "And I'll take care of the hot."

"Oh…my God." 

Whispers of unexpected pleasure sent Terry into a far-off place where he was only concerned with running a flat tongue across supple skin. Patrice rushed to steady herself by bringing her hands to the back of his head, cradling him while he went to work. 

Ice cold. Soothing warmth. Ice cold. Soothing warmth and a light suckle. Again. And again. 

He eyed her like a lion watches prey, taking notes of every little sound and twitch to know that he was fulfilling his job. 

"Good job, baby," Patrice whispered, her head tossed back and praises spoken to the ceiling. "Good fuckin' job."

Terry ran his hands up the back of her thighs to roughly grip her ass. He groaned at the affirmation before pulling away to retrieve more ice. He held a small cube between his teeth to multitask, running it across her left nipple and areola until it had melted enough to fit both in his mouth. 

Was it fixing her tenderness issue? Not really. But Patrice would be damned if his subtle slurping and moaning with her backside firmly in his clutches wasn't sufficiently taking her mind off things. So far off, she'd lost all concept of time and space. 

While Terry pulled Patrice into his lap for a more intensive inspection, Imani entered the house high off the exhilarating freedom that can only come for night drives with a carefully curated playlist blasting from the speakers. Being stateside for the first time in a year was the perfect opportunity to experience one of life's simple pleasures. 

Grocery bags rustled and knocked against the wall as she hummed along to the fragmented lyrics from a song on her Spotify playlist still coursing through her brain. A short pause in her personal concert to lock the door left space to hear a string of curious noises. Muffled half-sentences and a sort of trembling sigh made her quirk an eyebrow. She thought to herself that Terry and Patrice left the television on far too often for a pair of people who claimed to not spend much time in front of the tube, but quickly found that they'd taken to making a scene the old-fashioned way. 

She stood in the open space, a perfectly shaped eyebrow pushed high on her face and an impressed smirk tugging at the right corner of her lip while she watched her baby cousin makeout with Imani's newest family member with a ferocity she didn't know Patrice had in her. 

Patrice held Terry steady by his jaw, slightly hovering over him while she had her way leading a sloppy kiss. When she moved to push his head back toward her chest with a string of words filthy enough to make a pornstar blush, Imani cleared her throat to finally announce her presence.

"Oh shit," Patrice yelped, rushing to tap Terry's back and end his check-up. 

His head popped up to survey the room, then slowly found a home on top of Patrice's once she pressed close enough against his chest to cover her naked breasts. The vibrations from his concealed chortling made Patrice pinch him in frustration. Nothing was funny, at least not to her. 

Imani held her hands up in faux surrender. "No, please. Don't stop on account of me," she laughed. "Y'all were just getting started." 

"We are so sorry, Moanie. This isn't what it looks like. Well, this part is exactly what it looks like, but I promise it didn't start like this. Terry was looking at my boobs to check on my tattoo and -" 

"Girl, you do not have to explain anything to me. This is your house! Honestly, if I had those big ol' mommy titties, I'd want them in somebody's face too. And you got them for free! The girls gotta go under the knife or get pregnant for those. How does it feel to be God's favorite? Terry, can you help me get the water out of the car when you finish?"

Terry looked down at his visibly distressed wife and then back at Imani to save face for the both of them. "Yeah, I got you. Gimme a minute." 

Moanie didn't notice how she'd launched her cousin into an internal spiral as she pranced off to busy herself with getting ready in her room for the week, but Terry did. He carefully sat Patrice up and helped redress her, careful to ease into conversation. 

"You alright?" 

"I had my cycle this month," Patrice rushed out, her gaze far off as Terry lifted her arm to put it back in her camisole strap. "It can't be that. I had my cycle." When her focus returned, her eyes snapped to Terry's for confirmation. "Right? I did, right?"

He nodded, unsure of how to proceed to quell her fear. "You did, baby. But, maybe…"

Sure, it was lighter than usual, but she'd had a cycle. Her body functioned like it did every month, on time and without pomp and circumstance. There was no cause for concern. 

But…maybe. 

Patrice looked down at her belly then back up at Terry, searching for answers in his sympathetic expression. He leaned forward and held her head with both hands to give her a kiss she couldn't return before he spoke. 

"Don't drink tonight. Just in case. We'll figure it out in the morning. Okay?"

"Okay." She whispered back without truly processing the gravity of his instruction. 

Terry slowly lifted Patrice from his lap to fulfill Imani's request for assistance, leaving her to stand perfectly still in the kitchen. She counted backward in her head, retracing her steps and important dates until a headache sent her to take a seat. 

It was just tenderness. It'd go away by morning, and all of this would be a silly story to tell whenever they got together in the spring for their European honeymoon. She'd drink an entire bottle of wine over heaps of pasta, turning the whole situation into a fond memory before raising her hand to call the server for another round. All water under the bridge, right?

But…maybe.

------

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[starboye]

starring: carmy berzatto x male reader

request: Could I request the bear Dom top Daddy Carmy and Sub bottom femboy 18 year old male reader who started working at the restaurant and always wears sexy slutty little outfits so one night when they're alone carmy can't control himself the scraps are either by the hair starts kissing him turns reader around hikes up his skirt eats the reader out and it forces him to his knees and Carmy just starts face fucking telling Male reader be Daddy's good little slut armies then comes in the Reader's mouth forcing him to swallow it all picks the Reader up turns him around and then grabs him by the throat just starts f****** him reader screaming yes daddy so Carmy says I'm going to get you pregnant and fills them with so much cum that it's leaking out then he asked the needed to be his boyfriend/baby boy maybe as a bonus the next morning while they're working car meets at the counter cutting up food talking to customers and male reader's underneath the station sucking Carmy's cock and forces his whole cock and holds the reader head as he starts coming down his throat with cum kink Daddy kink semi-public sex rough sex and hair pulling kink

warnings: smut, femboy!reader, cursing, daddy kink, ass slapping, rough sex, deppthroat, face fucking, cum eating, ass eating

you were everything carmy wanted and more, your body made him absolutely feral, all he wanted to do was grope at you and feel your body, fuck you just always had to dress slutty when you came to work huh? he felt like you knew what you did to him but just acted dumb.

and although you were the new employee he took a much bigger interest in you rather than his other employees, the way you wore the shortest skirts that left nothing to imagination and no matter how many times richie tried to tell carmy to tell you to wear something more appropriate but he just waved him away and kept taking sneaky looks at yours ass.

but on one lucky night you and carmy were the only ones left in the restaurant after everyone called it a night, you in the back cleaning up the stations while carmy was in the front sweeping up all the trash that people somehow left, leaning back to peek into the kitchen and seeing you bent over picking up a dropped hand towel.

sneaking up behind you and spooking you a bit "oh fuck you scared me carmen" you say coming down from your shock, carmy who couldn't hold himself together for another second just pulls you into a kiss, his tongue roaming around in your mouth as his hands find their way to your ass "you're so damn hot" he huffs lifting your skirt and flicking your skimpy underwear onto your hole.

"can i fuck you" he asks finally pulling from your lips and all you could give was a lazy yes but that's all carmy needs before he's pushing you down on your knees and unzipping his pants to pull down his underwear and whip out his aching dick ans shoving your mouth on it, working your head back and forth on his length to lube it up some more to fuck you.

"yeah just like that fuckkk" he huffs satisfied by your surprising mouth skills, taking him all the way to the shaft with his balls repeatedly slapping your chin while you gag out moans "good boy you love being daddy's good little slut" he says giving one more big thrust and shooting his cum in your mouth, pushing your head to make sure you take every drop before lifting you up back on your feet.

turning you around and putting your hands on the counter and sliding his way into your hole, your moans filling the empty kitchen quickly, he tightly grabs your throat and tilts your head up to look at him, your back arched in the most perfect way for him to get as deep as possible.

"you like this dick huh baby" he smirks "yes daddy i love it so fucking much" you whine mixed with some struggled grunts as he slams back into you again and again "im gonna fill you up and get you all big and pregnant, you want that" carmy asks while his thrusts become more erratic "mhm breed me full of your cum carmy" you yell and carmy obliges, spilling his load into your hole until it was spilling out slightly.

you both sit therefor a couple minutes catching your breath before carmy drops to his knees and spreads your cheeks open and starts eating you out, feeding off his delicious cum that he just gave you "i thought you wanted me to get pregnant" you ask smiling "i can give you another load later tonight" he smacks your ass and gets back on his feet but not with out a little souvenir aka your underwear.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[its-crowning]

Too Late Roommate, pt. 1

having a roommate that—at first—you think is just gaining weight. watching their belly press up against their shirt, their appetite getting almost aggressive. watching them try and fail to fit into their clothes, watching them get more and more out of breath from doing things they used to do with ease. you think they’re just gaining weight…until you catch them standing with the bathroom door open, shirt lifted up, inspecting a very round swell in the mirror. you stop in your tracks. it’s an unmistakable bulge. there’s even the beginnings of a vertical line, running right down the middle. that’s…

you can’t help it. you speak before you think it through. “are you…pregnant?”

they don’t look at you. they poke their belly, and then cup it. there’s a bit of fear in their expression. “i’m too busy right now, but i’ll terminate soon. i can’t have a baby.”

one look at their ripe belly tells you they’re far beyond the time for that.

it’s two entire months later that they waddle out of their room and ask you, wide-eyed, if you can take them to the clinic. one hand is on their back, and the other cups their protruding belly. something tells you they just felt it kick—like a good, serious kick, not flutters they can call indigestion—for the first time, just had the reality hit them.

unfortunately for them, it’s long been too late.

you take them to the clinic anyway. you don’t know why you do any of the things you do—you act stupid around them, now. it’s like you’re sharing their denial, but all because you’re intrigued. how long can they drag this out? how long before they pop?

you darkly hope it happens in your apartment.

you touch yourself, in secret, to the idea. you touch yourself to the glimpses you steal of them struggling to bend over and pick something up. of how they jump whenever the thing moves a little inside them when you’re both watching TV, and then try to play it off. of the soft crying at night you can hear through the wall.

they shock you by coming right back out of the abortion clinic and getting back in the passenger seat, head hung low.

their belly is still very pregnant, poorly hidden by their parka. their face is streaked with tears.

“so…”

“they wouldn’t let me.”

“okay.”

the rest of the drive home is in silence. the weight in the air—the shared knowledge you both have that this baby is real, and going to be born soon—hangs heavily, just like their belly lately.

you go back into the apartment, and your roommate is already out of breath. they huff and puff and sit down on the couch with a big “hooo…” kind of noise, groaning at their pregnancy. you just start making the two—or three of you, rather—some sandwiches in silence.

“i’m sorry,” their quavering voice breaks the tension at last. you eye them, but don’t speak. they can’t meet your eyes. “i know…i know this…it’s gotten out of control. but i didn’t think it was…”

“how far along did you think you were?” you ask, with a patronizing bite that slips out of your mouth before you can stop it. they wince a little, and look warily at their prominent bump. it gets really big when they sit like this, sitting high and jutting out. imposing. impending.

they’re terrified. “i don’t…l…”

“how far along are you?”

“I didn’t find out. they wanted to…give it…an ultrasound, but…i can’t…”

“do you have a plan? who’s the father?”

they don’t answer. you can tell they’re about to cry.

you should leave them alone. you hand them their sandwich, taking a bite out of your own. they take it tentatively, but then lurch a little bit. another big kick, surely. they seem to have lost their appetite, and try setting it down on the coffee table.

they struggle to reach. to sit upright at all. you have to help them.

this action seems to finally break them. they start softly weeping.

you sit down beside them on the couch, abandoning your sandwich as well.

“once it comes, you can give it up for adoption—“ you start to say.

“I didn’t know you could get pregnant on the first time,” they sob, holding their belly. “I don’t know anything. My parents…they’re going to…”

they haven’t shared much with you about their home life, but you know it was incredibly strict. perhaps religious, but they haven’t clarified. they just cry, and look down at their swollen womb. for the first time, you notice that they’re wearing their jeans completely unbuttoned and unzipped. they haven’t bought maternity jeans.

“I can’t have a baby.”

something in you snaps.

“But you will,” you say, standing up. they look up at you, teary-eyed, but don’t say anything. “You’re going to get even bigger, and you’re going to push that thing out—probably here, in our bath tub. You fucked, and now you’re going to have a baby. Soon. Stop denying it.”

There’s a heavy silence between you, until your roommate heavily picks themself up. you try to help, but they push your hand away.

“Listen, I’m sorry, but you need to make a plan—“

They waddle away, unable to control their sniffling as they begin to cry again. they carry the heft of their belly with both hands as if the baby will fall out of them otherwise. And they disappear into their room.

—

You don’t see them much after that. It’s clear they’re avoiding you. You can’t say you don’t understand. You try to put your nerves aside—this is their problem. Their burden in their belly. You’re not the one who’s pregnant, you shouldn’t worry about it.

The crying at night continues.

But in the middle of the night, maybe two or three weeks after the clinic visit, you wake up with a start. you don’t think anything of it at first, until you hear it again. the sound that woke you up. it’s a bit muffled, but it’s a low moan. Like a cow.

Dread spears through you. It’s time.

[aventurineswife]

Last minute fluffy idea! I was wondering if you could do it though.

It's about a pregnant gn reader with the characters: Aventurine, Sampo, Childe, Scar and Kaeya, the reader every time they feel a kick in their belly they get excited every time their babies do that even though because of that they will grab their partner by the shoulder and drag them to their lap so they can feel the baby's kicks.

I vaguely remember you mentioning that the character limit was 5… If it's not feel free to remove Kaeya, Take all the time you want with this request!

-💤🩵

The Universe Begins Within

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Childe x Reader, Scar x Reader, GN!Reader, Fluff, Pregnancy, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Family Themes, Parenthood, Baby Kicks, Soft Moments.

Warnings: Pregnancy Themes, Slight Emotional Overwhelm, Mild Physical Interaction, Mentions of Future Parenthood.

The lavish office was quiet, save for the rhythmic ticking of a clock and the occasional shuffle of papers as Aventurine leaned back in his chair, reviewing the latest IPC financial reports. His glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, and his signature smirk played on his lips as he made quick mental calculations.

Your excitement broke the stillness like a burst of sunlight through storm clouds. "Kakavasha!" you exclaimed, your hand immediately flying to your belly as you felt a firm, fluttering kick. Without a second thought, you marched over, grabbed his shoulder, and yanked him into your lap.

"What—? Darling!" Aventurine laughed, his voice tinged with surprise, his hands flailing slightly as he tried to balance himself. "You can’t just drag me around like this! What if I wrinkle my coat?"

You silenced him by placing his palm on your belly, a grin spreading across your face. "Feel that?" you whispered, your voice brimming with joy.

His initial exasperation melted away as he felt the soft but determined kick against his hand. For a moment, Aventurine’s mask slipped, and his eyes softened, filling with awe. He traced small, slow circles over your stomach with his fingers, his usually animated demeanor giving way to something tender and unguarded.

"Well," he murmured, his lips twitching into a genuine smile. "Looks like our little gambler is practicing their first big moves. No doubt they’ve inherited my knack for high-stakes drama."

You laughed, leaning your forehead against his. "And your charm, too, if this enthusiasm is any sign."

For once, Aventurine didn’t respond with a witty retort. Instead, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple and whispered, "I hope they inherit your heart—because that’s the one thing in this world worth betting everything on."

The market square buzzed with activity, merchants shouting their wares as people jostled about. Sampo, ever the opportunistic businessman, was mid-pitch, waving an ornate trinket in front of a hesitant customer when you grabbed his arm.

"Sampo! Come here!" you called out, your eyes wide with excitement as your free hand clutched your belly.

"Ah, my love," Sampo chuckled nervously, trying to placate the merchant he was talking to. "Can we put a pin in this? Seems my most valuable customer has a request!"

You didn’t wait for his full attention. Instead, you tugged him down to sit beside you on a nearby bench, your hands already guiding his to your belly. "The baby’s kicking again! Feel it!"

Sampo’s grin widened, and he leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, would you look at that! This little rascal’s already got some energy, huh? Just like their old man."

He adjusted his touch, resting his head lightly against your stomach, pretending to listen intently. "Hey, kiddo! Knock once if you’re gonna be a genius like your parent, and twice if you’re gonna be a smooth operator like your dad."

The baby kicked again, and you burst into laughter. "Looks like they’re aiming for a career in making me laugh at you."

"Good choice," Sampo quipped, planting a kiss on your stomach. "Stick with your dad, kid. We’re gonna have so much fun scamming—uh, I mean, making deals together."

[Credits header]

The cozy home in Snezhnaya was filled with the crackling warmth of a fire, the scent of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. Childe sat by the hearth, sharpening his blade, his sharp features softened by the flickering light.

You waddled into the room, one hand supporting your back and the other on your belly. The sudden kick made you gasp, and without a word, you marched over to him.

"Ajax!" you called, tugging him off his seat and onto the couch beside you. He blinked in surprise as you guided his hand to your stomach.

"The baby’s kicking again," you said, your voice tinged with excitement.

Childe’s eyes lit up, and his smile stretched wide as he felt the rhythmic nudges against his palm. "That’s my little warrior," he said proudly, his voice softening. "Already training for their first fight, huh?"

You chuckled, leaning into his shoulder. "Or they’re just excited to meet you."

Childe’s expression grew serious for a moment, and he tilted his head to press a gentle kiss against your temple. "I want them to know I’ll always protect them," he murmured, his voice steady and full of resolve. "No matter what."

"And me?" you teased, looking up at him.

He grinned, his playful nature returning. "You? You’re stuck with me for life."

The dimly lit chamber was filled with an eerie stillness, the shadows on the walls flickering as the candlelight danced. Scar stood by the window, his eyes staring into the distance, lost in thought.

"Scar!" you called, your voice breaking through the quiet.

He turned sharply, his expression shifting from brooding to mild curiosity as you walked over. "Yes, my lamb?" he asked, a playful yet sinister lilt to his tone.

Before he could say more, you pulled him down onto the plush chair beside you, grabbing his hand and pressing it to your belly. "The baby’s kicking!"

Scar’s dramatic smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a rare look of genuine surprise. The first kick startled him, and he chuckled softly, his eyes narrowing in amusement. "Ah, a rebel already," he murmured, his voice dripping with pride.

You rolled your eyes, though your smile didn’t waver. "I think they just want attention, like their father."

Scar’s grin widened, and he leaned closer, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your stomach. "Let them demand all they want," he said, his tone almost reverent. "A creature born of chaos deserves to make its presence known."

For a fleeting moment, Scar’s usual theatrical flair faded, and he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. "And they will never lack for love, my lamb. Of that, I swear."

My face while writing this be like: 🫣🤭☹️🥺😭😪🤧😮‍💨

[syndrossi]

I am reading a webnovel where the main character is pregnant, and it just makes me want to see Aemon and Jocelyn's reactions when they find out she's pregnant with the twins. Depending on the timeline and scenario you go with, it could be very interesting... I hope they come as a nice surprise in any case!

And I know it's a little similar to the scene where Rhea has the twins, but I'm amused thinking about Aemon being introduced to Jon, another dark-haired babe, and thinking his wife's coloring wins again, only for a little Aemon clone (baby Rhaegar!!!) to come out right after. Also, for him to not only have a male heir, but TWO OF THEM in one miraculous day. Three children, just like that.

Will Rhaenys love them immediately? Not sure how old she'll be in this AU, but if she's young enough, she honestly feels like the kind of big sister who would drag her baby siblings around like dolls and declare them as HER babies, tyvm.

I assume Jaehaerys will be pleased as punch in this AU as well... and it gives this AU that extra unique spin of not just princes being born to a second son, but of the actual much awaited future KING being born...

How many AUs do you think we can get you to write where Jon and Rhaegar are actual babies? 🤣

I'm thinking I'll go with the "nearish Daemon's birth" timeline in the Aemon's Sons AU, where either Jocelyn and Alyssa get to commiserate through their pregnancies, or Jocelyn gets pregnant maybe a year later. Either way, you know Jaehaerys is hoping beyond hope that his heir gets a "proper" (male) heir at last, after all this time, and never even thinks there might be two.

I like to think that Baelon has a friendly wager going with Aemon that the baby is going to look like Jocelyn again, and then little Rhaegar to pop out second and then they go "...who wins in this scenario?" (Everybody, of course, but they agree to a tie.) Baelon is holding baby Daemon, of course, informing him that these will be his new best friends, after his brother, of course.

I adore the idea of Rhaenys treating them as her personal dolls for a time, bossily insisting on helping pick out their clothing, rocking them like their nurse / mother do, etc. She loves that one looks like her and one looks like her dad, it's the perfect variety pack! She absolutely insists on picking out their dragon eggs personally. (I planned on going with Aerion and Valerion for their names, but it would also be hilarious if Rhaenys comes up with Rhaegar for, well, Rhaegar because it sounds like her name!)

As soon as the twins are confirmed healthy, I'm certain that Jaehaerys is organizing a celebratory tourney. As you said, your heir having heirs (two of them) is something that makes the entire realm breathe a sigh of relief for stability's sake. And of course all the lords take stock of their own young daughters because they can do the math: there is a grand total of one royal daughter (Rhaenys) that can be matched to any of the four young princes.

Well, relative to Reverberate and Regnal, I expect we'll spend less time on the twins as tiny babies in Aemon's Sons AU, though of course Aemon and Jocelyn will get a few moments before we skip ahead.

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Sacrifices (BTR Series Book 2 of 3) a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 34: Wrestlemania..

As Rhea walked into their bedroom, she paused in the doorway, smiling at the sight of Jey sitting on the bed with the video camera in his hands. The little red recording light blinked, letting her know he was in the middle of filming.

He turned the lens toward her and grinned. “And there is your mom, Jeyson. Look at how beautiful she is.”

Rhea let out a soft giggle, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Are you still recording for our son?”

Jey nodded, his expression softening. “Of course. I was just about to tell him how we fell in love.”

Rhea stepped further into the room, her eyes glancing between Jey and the camera. She sat beside him on the bed, leaning into the frame. “I’ll tell you, Jeyson,” she said, her voice light but sincere as she looked into the camera. “It was the most unconventional way to fall in love, but…”

Her voice trailed off as she turned her gaze to Jey, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “I would never trade it for the world.”

Jey set the camera down on the nightstand, its red light still glowing, and turned to her. “It wasn’t just unconventional. It was messy, chaotic, and everything in between,” he said, taking her hand in his. “But it brought me you, and now it’s brought us him.”

Rhea squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers. “And that’s all that matters.”

Jey leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “He’s gonna know, Rhea. He’s gonna know how much we fought to get here. And how much we already love him.”

Rhea’s eyes glistened as she whispered, “He’s gonna know he’s our everything.”

The two sat there for a moment in silence, their hands intertwined, the glow of the camera light capturing a memory that Jeyson would one day watch—a moment that showed just how deeply his parents loved him and each other.

Smiling, Jey reached over and adjusted the camera, grinning as he spoke. “You wanna see how small you are right now, Jeyson?” He panned the lens toward Rhea’s belly, zooming in on her 19-week pregnant bump.

Rhea placed her hand protectively over her belly and chuckled. “You’re the size of a mango right now.”

Jey tilted the camera slightly, giving her a playful smirk. “Two mangos, babe, because you’re getting bigger.”

Rhea playfully swatted at him. “Don’t be mean.”

Jey laughed and leaned closer, gently rubbing her belly. “That just means he’s gonna be big and strong.”

Rhea raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Just like his old man?”

Jey shook his head with a grin, looking directly into the camera. “Nope. He’s gonna be big and strong, just like my dad. Your grandpa.”

Rhea joined in, her voice teasing as she addressed the camera. “Which means if you start wrestling someday, don’t do the stink face like Grandpa Solofa.”

Jey burst out laughing, pulling the camera back up to capture both of them. “She’s got jokes, huh? But for real, Jeyson, your grandpa is a legend. And if you do wrestle one day, you’ll have the whole family behind you. Just don’t let your mom teach you her headbutts—those things are dangerous.”

Rhea gasped dramatically, nudging him. “Don’t listen to your dad, baby. Headbutts are the secret weapon.”

They both laughed, the playful banter filling the room as Jey turned the camera off, but not before whispering, “We love you, little man.”

Rhea and Jey both climbed into bed, the exhaustion of the day settling in as they pulled the covers over themselves. Jey leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, a gesture filled not with passion but something deeper—love, unwavering and powerful.

Rhea looked at him, her eyes shimmering with emotion in the dim light of their room. She reached out to trace her fingers along his jawline and whispered, “I would never trade you for anything else.”

Jey tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly as he gazed at her. “Babe…” he started, but she quickly cut him off.

“No, I mean it,” Rhea said firmly, her voice trembling with sincerity. “Despite our bumpy beginning… despite how short our time together has been… I love you so much, Joshua. I can’t picture my life without you. You make me feel so whole, like every broken piece of me finally fits.”

Jey’s hand found hers under the blanket, their fingers intertwining. He stayed quiet, letting her words wash over him, the weight of her vulnerability settling in his chest.

“And I just…” Rhea continued, her voice cracking slightly, “I just don’t ever want to wake up one day and hear you say you don’t love me anymore. Because that will kill me, Jey. I don’t think I could survive that.”

Jey immediately pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her protectively. “Babe,” he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring. “That’s never gonna happen. You hear me? Never.”

Rhea pressed her forehead against his, their breaths mingling. “Promise me, Joshua. Promise me you’ll always love me.”

Jey cupped her face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to roll down her cheeks. “Rhea, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. You’re it for me. There’s no one else, no other life I want but this one—right here, with you, with our son, with our crazy family. I promise you, babe. I will always love you.”

Rhea sniffled and let out a soft laugh. “You better, or I’m kicking your ass.”

Jey chuckled and kissed her again, this time lingering just a little longer. “That I know for sure...”

“So weird for you to admit defeat so quickly,” Rhea teased, a small smile breaking through her tears.

He held her close as they settled back into the pillows, the room quiet except for the steady sound of their breathing. “You’re stuck with me, Rhea. Forever,” Jey whispered as she rested her head on his chest.

“Good,” Rhea murmured, her voice soft and content. “Because I’m not going anywhere either.”

—

April 18th, 2025 – 11:21 PM

The fountains of Bellagio danced under the night sky, lights reflecting on the water in mesmerizing patterns as the wedding party gathered near, laughing and chattering excitedly. The night was electric, filled with the joy of Jey and Rhea’s union, but everyone’s attention still lingered on the earlier excitement—Trinity going into premature labor during the Hall of Fame ceremony.

Jey stood at the center of the group, holding up his phone to show the latest pictures Jon had sent from the hospital. “Look at this,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “Trin and Jon with the twins. They’re perfect, man.”

Joe peered over his shoulder, grinning as he clapped Jey on the back. “That’s what I’m talking about! Two more Fatus in the world. Let’s celebrate! I got us a penthouse suite for the weekend.”

Damian raised his drink high, the ice clinking in his glass. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. Let’s get this party started!”

The wedding party cheered in agreement. Joe and Galina led the way toward the Bellagio, followed by Damian and Kayden, Liv and Dom, Finn, JD, Carlito, Joseph and Almia, Cody and Brandi, and even Raquel, who had joined the festivities later in the evening as Carlito’s unofficial date.

But as everyone moved toward the Bellagio’s entrance, Rhea stayed back, her eyes glued to the fountain. She stood there, captivated by the beauty of the water’s rhythmic dance, the world around her fading into the background.

Jey, halfway to the entrance, turned to look for her and noticed her standing by the water’s edge, lost in thought. He shook his head with a small smile and made his way back to her.

“Babe,” he said softly, slipping his hand into hers.

She turned to him, her eyes glowing under the soft lights of the fountain. “I just needed a moment,” she said. “It’s all so overwhelming. The wedding, the twins being born, the Hall of Fame… It’s like a dream, you know?”

Jey nodded, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. “I get it. It’s a lot. But this?” He gestured to the fountain and the lights. “None of this matters as much as us. Come on, Mrs. Fatu. Let’s go make the most of our wedding night.”

Rhea smiled at the sound of her new title—Mrs. Fatu. It sent a shiver of excitement through her. She took a deep breath, letting the moment settle in her chest, then nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

Jey pulled her close, stealing a quick kiss before leading her toward the Bellagio, their hands entwined. The laughter from the wedding party grew louder as they approached the elevator, where their friends were already piling in, ready to continue the night’s celebration.

But for Jey and Rhea, the real celebration was just beginning.

As Jey and Rhea stepped out of the elevator and made their way toward the penthouse suite, Rhea suddenly froze, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach. A strong kick had startled her, and she looked down, smiling softly.

“Simmer down, Jeyson,” she murmured, stroking her belly.

Jey, noticing her pause, chuckled. “Baby boy’s kicking, huh?”

Rhea nodded, grabbing his hand and guiding it to the spot where she’d felt the movement. Jey grinned as he felt a little thump beneath his palm. “That’s a superkick!” he said with pride, his laughter filling the quiet hallway.

Rhea laughed along, the moment lightening her mood as the elevator doors opened behind them. Together, they walked hand in hand toward the suite, where the sounds of celebration spilled into the hallway.

When they pushed open the doors, they were greeted by a large gold-and-white banner that read: Mr. & Mrs. Fatu EST. 2025. The room was decorated with fairy lights, balloons, and rose petals scattered across the floor and tables.

Galina rushed forward, embracing Rhea with excitement. “Do you love it?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“It’s so pretty!” Rhea replied, her smile wide as she looked around at the thoughtful decor.

Liv appeared next, popping open a chilled bottle of sparkling apple juice. “For you and me,” she said with a wink, pouring two glasses and handing one to Rhea.

Almia and Kayden weren’t far behind, pouring glasses of champagne for the rest of the group. The room began to fill with laughter, toasts, and the soft clinking of glasses as everyone settled in.

Dominik, standing near the sound system, turned the music down, and all eyes shifted to Joe as he stepped forward. He raised his glass, a confident smile on his face.

“I just want to say something very brief,” Joe began, his voice carrying the room’s attention. “Rhea… welcome to the Anoa’i/Fatu family. You’ve been a part of us for a while now, but tonight, it’s official. You’re one of us. Through thick and thin, good and bad—this family stands together, no matter what.”

The room erupted into cheers and applause. Rhea blinked back tears, touched by Joe’s sincerity. She glanced at Jey, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple.

“Thank you, Joe,” Rhea said, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “It means everything to me to be a part of this family. I’ve never felt so accepted and loved.”

Joe smiled warmly. “We’re lucky to have you. And now…” he raised his glass higher, “to the newlyweds! Mr. and Mrs. Fatu!”

Everyone raised their glasses in unison, shouting, “To the Fatus!” before taking sips of their drinks.

Jey leaned down, his lips brushing against Rhea’s ear. “Told you we’d make the most of our wedding night.”

Rhea laughed softly, her free hand resting on her belly as Jeyson gave another small kick. This was exactly where she was meant to be—surrounded by love, family, and the man who made her feel whole.

April 19th, 2025 12:11 AM

As the pulsating beats of “Goosebumps” by Travis Scott filled the room, Liv held the video camera with a mischievous grin. She panned it across the suite, landing on Damian and Finn, who were already in character, preparing to entertain.

Damian leaned forward, pointing a finger at the camera. “Alright, little man, let me introduce myself. I didn’t get to speak to you too much at the baby shower, but I’m one of your unofficial uncles. That’s right, Uncle Damian!”

Finn, standing beside him, nodded with mock seriousness. “And I’m your other unofficial uncle, mate. Uncle Finn. You’ve got the best.”

Damian smirked, gesturing dramatically between the two of them. “Now, if you’re wondering why we have two completely different accents, it’s because your mom—your amazing mom—works with the best people from all over the world.”

Finn gave Damian a side-eye. “Will you stop it, lad? You’re embarrassing us.”

Damian grinned at the camera. “Nah, I’m educating Jeyson.”

Finn shook his head, taking a more serious tone as he leaned closer to the lens. “No, but seriously, mate—if you ever decide to wrestle one day, come to us first. Don’t go to your father.”

Jey’s voice boomed across the room from the other side. “I HEARD THAT!”

The group burst into laughter, Finn cracking up as he threw his hands up. “What? I’m just saying!” He turned back to the camera. “Look, Jeyson, your uncles here know what’s up. I’m gonna teach you the Coup de Grâce before I let these other clowns teach you a spear, mate.”

Damian rolled his eyes dramatically. “Coup de Grâce? Please. Listen, Jeyson, what your other unofficial uncle is trying to say is that you’ll learn some proper finishers from me first. Like the Chokeslam from Hell!”

Finn gave Damian a look. “Oh, real original, big guy.”

Damian leaned into the camera with a mock sinister expression. “Don’t listen to him, Jeyson. Uncle Damian’s got you covered. I’ll show you what real power looks like.”

The camera shook slightly as Liv laughed behind it, capturing the banter perfectly.

Jey walked into the frame, wrapping an arm around Rhea’s shoulders. “Alright, alright, that’s enough, you two,” he said, pointing a playful finger at Damian and Finn. “Don’t be trying to steal my son from me. Jeyson’s gonna learn all his moves from his dad first. Right, babe?”

Rhea chuckled, glancing at the camera. “Jeyson, your dad might be a little biased, but your uncles do have a point. You’re gonna have the best of the best teaching you—if you even want to wrestle.”

Finn smirked at Jey. “Looks like Mom’s already on our side, mate.”

The room erupted in laughter again as Liv zoomed in on Rhea’s belly. “And there you have it, baby Jeyson—your family is already arguing over who gets to train you, and you’re not even born yet!”

Just then, Kayden approached the camera with a grin on her face, the laughter and chatter of the party still filling the background. She adjusted the lens, her voice playful as she spoke to the unborn baby. “Alright, Jeyson, let me get this. I’m one of your unofficial aunties, and I’m ready to make this video legendary!”

Liv popped her head into the frame, her face lighting up. “And I’m your unofficial auntie too, don’t forget about me!” she added with a wink, before leaning in closer to the camera.

Kayden laughed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, we can’t forget about Aunt Liv. So, Jeyson, when your mom told us she was pregnant with you, we were all so excited. We were like, ‘Yes, finally!’” She smiled as she reminisced. “It was like the moment we’ve all been waiting for.”

Liv nodded enthusiastically, her voice filled with affection. “Exactly! We knew your mom was destined to be a mom. But not just any mom—your mom. We knew it from the moment she shared the news with us. And now, look at her—she’s going to be the best mom ever.”

The two girls exchanged a fond look before setting the camera down on a nearby table, moving away from the bustle of the conversation happening around them. Their voices softened as they spoke directly to the camera.

Liv looked at the lens, speaking with the warmth only a best friend could show. “So, Jeyson, I’ve got to add something important to this video. And I’m giving you proof right here, right now,” she said, her tone teasing. “Your mom? She has a thing for dancing with your dad.”

Kayden smiled and leaned closer to the camera. “Oh, and it’s not just any dancing. It’s like, whenever they dance together, the entire room stops. It’s like magic, Jeyson. They are so in love, it’s like you can feel it in the air.”

Liv grinned as she looked over at Kayden, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “And that’s why you need to hurry up and get out here, so you can see what we’re talking about. Trust me, it’s a sight to behold. You don’t want to miss it.”

Kayden nodded in agreement, her voice softening slightly. “We can’t wait to meet you, little one. Your mom and dad are incredible together, and we can’t wait for you to experience that bond up close and personal.”

Just then, the unmistakable beat of Un X100to by Grupo Frontera featuring Bad Bunny began to fill the air. Kayden’s eyes lit up. “Ah, perfect timing, Jeyson! This right here is what I’m talking about. Your unofficial uncles—Dominik and Damian—taught your mom the beauty of Spanish music. And now? She’s trying to teach your dad!” She laughed, her voice filled with excitement as she adjusted the camera to capture the scene unfolding.

Rhea, with a smile on her face, was trying her best to teach Jey some smooth steps to the song, mimicking the moves she had learned from Raquel and Carlito. Jey, on the other hand, was struggling a bit but clearly enjoying himself as he tried to match his wife’s rhythm. He stumbled over his own feet, but Rhea’s infectious laughter made him laugh along with her. The energy between them was undeniable—playful, loving, and filled with joy.

Dominik, always eager to jump in, leaned into the frame, flashing his trademark smirk. “Which brings me to another thing, Jeyson,” he said, teasingly. “When you come out, we’re going to make sure you know the beauty of Spanish music. No more of that rap stuff—your unofficial uncles are gonna teach you the good stuff.”

Joseph, ever the challenger, leaned into the camera with a mischievous grin. “Rap is better than Spanish music, don’t let the mullet fool you, Jeyson!” he said, playfully nudging Dominik with his elbow. “We’ll see what your dad has to say about that!”

Dominik, who was enjoying the friendly banter, laughed loudly. “Everyone loves the mullet, though. Trust me.” He flipped his hair dramatically for emphasis.

Joe, not one to back down, raised his voice from the other side of the room. “Not me!” he yelled, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

The entire group erupted into playful teasing and laughter, as the camera continued to capture the fun chaos of the evening. With each passing moment, the room felt more like a family reunion, the love and connection between everyone filling the air. Everyone was eager to share in the joy of the moment, from teaching the baby about music to showering Rhea and Jey with support. The night was filled with laughter, love, and memories that would last a lifetime.

As the conversation continued, Kayden looked at the camera and smiled softly. “Jeyson, you’re gonna have so much love in your life. You’re surrounded by so many people who can’t wait to see you. And trust me, we’re all here for you, no matter what. Your mom and dad? They’re going to be amazing parents. And we’re going to be here, every step of the way, cheering you on.”

Liv nodded, her expression filled with affection. “We’re all so excited for you, little one. You’ve already got so much love surrounding you.”

With that, the two girls shared a look, their hearts full of anticipation for the future as they set the camera down and rejoined the rest of the celebration, ready to continue the night filled with music, laughter, and love.

—

April 19th, 2025 9:11 AM

The sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor echoed on the ramp as Jey moved through his entrance routine. He was in his element, his focus sharp as he rehearsed his moves, practicing every step of the signature swagger that made his entrance iconic. Each movement was deliberate, perfectly timed, and filled with the same energy that would electrify the crowd.

Hunter stood off to the side, nodding approvingly as he observed Jey’s performance. Bruce Prichard, clipboard in hand, was taking notes on the lighting setup. They were discussing the technical side of the entrance, adjusting the light cues to make sure everything synced perfectly with Jey’s movements.

“I think we can push the lights just a little brighter on the first jump,” Bruce said, adjusting his glasses. “Make sure they catch the energy of the moment.”

Hunter crossed his arms, watching Jey intently as he moved. “Agreed. We want that first step to pop—let the crowd feel it from the moment he hits the ramp.”

Rhea, standing nearby with her arms folded, smiled softly at the sight of her partner in action. She had always admired Jey’s presence in the ring, and watching him rehearse reminded her of how much he had grown as a performer. She was dressed casually in Jey’s YEET hoodie and biker shorts, her blue crocs adding a touch of comfort to her look. The palm tree croc charms swayed slightly with each step she took.

Jeyce and Jaciyah, stood beside her, also dressed in Jey’s YEET merch. Jeyce, always the curious one, kept his eyes fixed on his father’s every move, while Jaciyah, ever the confident young man, rolled his eyes in mock boredom.

“You think he’s gonna nail it tonight?” Jeyce asked, his voice full of the innocent excitement that only a child could have. He shifted on his feet, clearly itching to get closer to his dad.

“Of course he is,” Rhea said, her voice calm and reassuring. She looked down at Jeyce with a soft smile. “Your dad’s the best at what he does.”

Jaciyah crossed his arms and sighed dramatically. “You two are so predictable. But yeah, I guess Dad’s always got the entrance down. It’s like he owns the ring the second he walks out.”

Jeyce laughed. “Dad’s cool.”

Rhea chuckled, ruffling Jeyce’s hair. “He’s cool, alright.”

As Jey continued rehearsing, moving fluidly through his steps, the lighting crew tested the cues. The lights flickered momentarily before turning bright white, highlighting Jey’s every move. Hunter and Bruce kept a close eye on the timing.

“We’re good for tonight, but let’s do another run-through in an hour. I want to make sure everything clicks,” Hunter said, tapping Bruce’s shoulder as they walked off to discuss the final tweaks.

Rhea watched them go, then turned her attention back to Jey, her gaze softening. She knew how important tonight was for him, especially after his time off for recovery. This was more than just a match; it was a return to form, a chance to reclaim his place in the spotlight.

Jey slowed his movements and turned to face her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re staring at me like I’m about to perform surgery or something,” he joked, his voice warm and playful.

Rhea grinned, her eyes filled with pride. “I’m just watching my husband do his thing.”

Jey looked down at his kids, who were both beaming. “You two ready for the show tonight?” he asked, his tone softening as he walked over to them.

Jaciyah shrugged. “It’s just Dad being Dad. But yeah, I’m excited.”

Jeyce nodded enthusiastically, his voice full of energy. “Yeah! I can’t wait to see you! You’re gonna look awesome!”

Rhea laughed at the way Jeyce bounced on his toes. “You heard him, Dad. Looks like you’ve got a fan club.”

Jey chuckled, ruffling his son’s hair. “It’s good to have a fan club. Makes the job a little easier.”

The rehearsal continued, with Jey refining his movements under the watchful eyes of Hunter and Bruce. Rhea stayed close to the side, watching her family. Despite the hustle and bustle of the day, there was something so grounding about moments like this—Jey, in his element, surrounded by the people who loved him most.

As the final cues were tested, Rhea’s gaze lingered on Jey. She couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride and admiration. Tonight, he would step out into the ring once more, not just as Jey Uso, but as a fighter and a family man who had fought through everything to get here. And she would be there, cheering him on, just as she always had.

She caught his eye across the room, and without a word, he gave her a small, reassuring nod. It was a simple gesture, but it meant everything.

Rhea smiled back, her heart swelling with pride. He’s got this, she thought. Tonight’s going to be incredible.

—

8:47 PM

Rhea’s heart was pounding in her chest as she walked alongside Jey, her fingers tightly wrapped around his hand. The weight of the moment felt heavy, and she could feel his nervous energy as they made their way down the narrow hallway, the sounds of the arena reverberating through the walls. The familiar backstage buzz was filled with the anticipation of WrestleMania, but Rhea couldn’t shake the nerves that had settled in her stomach. Tonight wasn’t just any night—it was Jey’s big return, and with the Men’s Money in the Bank match looming, there was no telling what would happen next.

Jey’s nerves were palpable, too. He was dressed in his black and red WrestleMania gear, the same outfit he had shown Rhea weeks ago when he’d first pulled it out of his bag, and although he was trying to keep his cool, she could tell he was feeling the pressure. Rhea squeezed his hand, trying to offer him the comfort she knew he needed.

“You got this, baby,” she murmured, glancing up at him. His jaw was tight, his eyes focused ahead, but he gave her a small, appreciative smile in return.

They continued their walk backstage, passing crew members and performers who were preparing for their own matches, the energy in the air unmistakable. As they neared the gorilla position, Rhea spotted Jeyce and Jaciyah, who were already seated in the club suites with Jey’s parents, Solofa and Talisua Fatu. They were excited and animated, watching the action unfold on the monitors in front of them, completely oblivious to the pressure that Jey was carrying on his shoulders.

“Let’s do this,” Jey said quietly, breaking the silence between them. He wiped his hand across his face, clearly trying to shake off his nerves. Rhea gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, but she could feel the tension radiating off him.

Rhea’s gaze flicked to the large screen in the arena, where RAW GM Adam Pearce was now announcing the mystery seventh contender for the Men’s Money in the Bank match. Rhea’s eyes widened as she heard the crowd erupt into cheers, the energy in the building reaching a fever pitch.

“Tonight, we have a mystery man entering the Money in the Bank match,” Adam announced. “And to introduce him… I’ll let Kendrick Lamar do the honors.”

The crowd roared with excitement as the unmistakable opening beats of Squabble Up by Kendrick Lamar filled the arena, signaling the arrival of someone the fans couldn’t wait to see. The tension backstage became electric, and Rhea could feel the anticipation building, her heart racing as the moments ticked by. She looked up at Jey, whose nervous energy had reached its peak as they drew closer to the gorilla position.

Jey glanced at Rhea, reaching for the water bottle in his hand. With a quick, nervous shake of his head, he splashed water through his hair, trying to calm himself. Rhea watched him, her chest tight with worry. She wanted so badly for him to feel at ease, to know that she believed in him more than anything.

“One minute, Jey,” Hunter’s voice called out from across the room, snapping Jey back to the reality of what was about to unfold. His face tightened in focus, but Rhea could see the tension still in his shoulders.

She moved toward him, her hand on his cheek. She could see his chest rise and fall as he took in deep, calming breaths. Rhea pressed her lips to his in a quick, soft kiss, her eyes locking with his when they pulled apart.

“Good luck,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She wasn’t sure if it was the nerves or the weight of the moment, but she wanted him to know how much she believed in him, how much she loved him.

Jey’s eyes softened as he gave her a small nod, his lips curling into a tight, determined smile. “Thanks, babe,” he said, his voice low and steady despite the racing adrenaline coursing through him. “I got this.”

As the countdown clock ticked down, Rhea watched Jey take one last deep breath, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she saw the man she loved completely in the zone. He wasn’t just Jey Uso—the charismatic superstar everyone knew. Tonight, he was a man ready to reclaim his place in the spotlight.

The beat of Squabble Up hit the speakers once more, filling the arena with an electric energy as the crowd’s anticipation skyrocketed. The lights flickered and dimmed, setting the stage for the moment everyone had been waiting for. Rhea stood backstage, her breath caught in her throat as she watched the spectacle unfold. She felt the adrenaline in her veins, knowing that Jey was about to make his grand return.

“I feel good, get out my face

Look good, but she don’t got no taste

I walk in, walked out with the safe

Mando, let me know what the play

Squabble up, squabble up…”

The music cut off suddenly, and the lights in the arena dropped, plunging everything into darkness for a split second. Then, the spotlight hit the center of the stage, illuminating none other than Kendrick Lamar himself. The crowd erupted in a deafening roar, and Kendrick’s voice rang out over the speakers, “USO!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The tension was unbearable. Rhea’s heart raced as the familiar chords of Jey’s theme started playing. The crowd went wild, their cheers vibrating through the arena, building in intensity as the spotlight flicked to the entrance ramp.

Hunter, standing backstage by the monitors, nodded at Jey, signaling it was time. With a deep breath, Jey stepped into the light, his eyes scanning the crowd as the roar of the audience seemed to swallow him whole. He felt the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through him—after five long months of being away from the ring, this was his moment.

The cheers hit him like a wave, and Jey’s heart swelled. The fans hadn’t forgotten him, and he wasn’t just coming back for the sake of it—he was coming back to reclaim his place at the top.

Jey lifted his head high, a proud grin crossing his face. The time away had been tough, but now, standing in front of thousands of fans, he felt like he was exactly where he needed to be.

He took a few steps forward, soaking in the energy, letting the crowd’s cheers fuel his fire. The familiar sounds of the crowd chanting “YEET!” echoed throughout the arena. Jey could hardly believe it—after everything that had happened, they still stood by him.

His body tensed in excitement as he sprinted down the ramp, his feet pounding against the ground with every step. The crowd’s energy surged as he reached the ring, and Jey slid under the ropes with a quick, fluid motion. He jumped to his feet, raising his arms high in the air, basking in the deafening cheers.

Rhea’s hands instinctively went to her heart, her eyes glued to Jey as she watched him come alive in the ring. She couldn’t help but smile, her face glowing with pride. After everything they’d been through, seeing him back where he belonged felt like the culmination of their journey.

Jey stood in the center of the ring, his chest heaving as he drank in the moment. The fans were chanting, and it felt like the whole arena was vibrating with his energy. It was everything he had been working toward—the return of Jey Uso, and he was going to make sure it counted.

Hunter and Bruce watched from the side, nodding approvingly at Jey’s energy and presence. “He’s back,” Bruce said with a grin, already imagining the possibilities of what was to come.

Rhea took a deep breath, smiling softly to herself as she watched him from backstage. She knew there was more to come, but for now, she was just thankful to see him back, standing tall and confident once again.

The crowd was still roaring, and Jey stood in the ring, eyes locked on the crowd. The lights flashed around him, his theme blaring, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Jey Uso was exactly where he belonged. The match was just about to start, and Jey was ready to take it all.

The match had been brutal, every second of it a fight for survival. For 53 grueling minutes, the superstars tore through ladders, steel, and one another in a desperate bid to claim the coveted Money in the Bank briefcase. The atmosphere in the arena was electric, the crowd on the edge of their seats, waiting for the moment that would solidify a new champion.

And then, it happened. Jey, already battered and bruised, found his second wind. He locked eyes with Finn Balor, who was dangling from the briefcase above, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. Rhea held her breath, watching as Jey built up his momentum. He sprinted toward the ladder, leaping with all his might, and delivered a brutal spear straight into Finn, sending both men crashing to the mat.

The crowd erupted in a deafening chant, their voices echoing throughout the arena. “YEET! YEET! YEET!”

Rhea’s heart raced as she watched Jey struggle to his feet, the pain in his body evident. But he was determined, his focus laser-sharp as he climbed the ladder once more. She could hear the commentators’ voices blaring through the speakers, hyping up the moment.

“CEMENT YOURSELF IN HISTORY!” they screamed, and Rhea couldn’t help but smile.

Jey reached the top of the ladder, his hand closing around the briefcase. The crowd’s roar grew louder as he unlatched it, pulling it free. His body slumped over the ladder in exhaustion, but the moment was his. His music blared through the speakers, the unmistakable beat of Main Event Ish shaking the arena.

The announcement came, booming over the loudspeakers. “And your 2025 Money in the Bank Winner… Main Event Jey UUSOOOOOO!”

Rhea’s eyes filled with pride and excitement, her heart swelling as she took in the moment. Jey had done it. He had just made history.

Hunter, standing by with Bruce, smiled at her. “You can go out with him now, Rhea,” he said, giving her a nod of approval.

Rhea’s face lit up in surprise. “Really?”

“Go for it,” Hunter said with a grin. “This is his moment. And it’s yours too.”

Rhea’s heart fluttered with excitement, and she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She was dressed in a long black cami dress that flowed effortlessly with each step she took. The crop top with Jey’s face on it paired with her signature blue Vans was a nod to her love for him. She looked every bit the proud partner she was, ready to share this victory with him.

She stepped forward, her feet slightly nervous as she made her way toward the entrance ramp. The crowd was still buzzing, their chants of “YEET!” continuing to fill the air, and Rhea couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the love surrounding them.

As she walked down the ramp, her eyes locked on Jey, who was still basking in the moment of victory. When he saw her, his expression softened, and his face broke into a wide grin. He moved toward her, meeting her halfway, and without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms.

The kiss was electric—fueled by the raw emotion of the moment. The crowd roared in approval, their cheers echoing throughout the arena as Jey and Rhea stood together, united in their triumph. It was a moment of pure connection, and Rhea could feel the weight of it all.

Jey pulled back slightly, looking at her with a mixture of love and exhaustion in his eyes. “We did it,” he whispered, breathless. “You were with me the whole way.”

Rhea smiled, her hand gently resting on his cheek. “I love you Joshua.”

“I love you too, Demi.”

The moment felt like a dream—everything they had worked for, everything they had sacrificed, had led to this. The crowd continued to chant, and the two stood there together, the energy between them undeniable.

Jey raised the Money in the Bank briefcase high above his head, and the crowd’s cheers reached a fever pitch. Rhea held his hand tightly, her smile never fading as they celebrated his victory—together.

This was just the beginning.

[dadbodsandbellies]

“How much bigger am I going to get!?”, my husband exclaimed while checking out his pregnant gut in the mirror, lifting it and shaking it a bit. “I hope it’s a bit bigger”, I replied with a devilish smile, not hiding my boner from him. He stared at it and looked back at me said, “yeah, I’m sure you like seeing me big and pregnant”.

[kat-tastrophe]

This is a fantasy storyish post sorry I'm not the best at writing if someone better wants to rewrite this better just tag me.

But the concept is gaining like 3lbs and hr for 24 hrs, rapid but slow wg.

Id wake up and get ready for work, I wouldn't know anything would happen. Work goes normaly the first 4rs. 12 lbs probably wouldn't be noticeable by me or my coworkers, maybe id have to loosen my belt a little, but at this point, I'd think it's bloating. The second half of my shift became a little more noticeable but not obvious yet. Im a little larger at 24lbs in the 8 hours I've been awake, but it wouldn't show anywhere obvious that a coworker might point out other than my stomach. Maybe they'd think I'm pregnant or bloated, but who knows. My clothes do feel a little tighter than normal, but all clothes, even my size, are baggy on my small frame. I end my shift and go home 24lbs heavier, weighing a total of 136 lbs. I make some lunch and play games and do whatever chores I need to the first hour Im home. I'd make myself lunch and eat it only just noting after that I'm a bit bigger but oh it's probably just bloating. Then i boot ip my computer to play videogames or watch a show. And 6hrs pass as I play games slowly my clothes feel tight and my shirt rides up as 15 hours have passed. My tits increase in cup size. My belly starts to be noticeable as I've gone from 112 to 157 since the morning. My thighs start hugging the pants. I go to take a shower and make dinner when I realized how big I've become. My thighs jiggle as I walk tot he kitchen and my belly bounces. I don't tend to look down and so I play the bouncing of my body as a mind game till after I cook dinner. I sit down to notice that my thighs are covering the chair and my belly is on my lap at this point I'm 160lbs my 5'7" is visibly overweight. I eat my dinner and go to the bathroom to shower. I feel as my body is definently heavier. I start to freak out what do I do. What are my friend and coworkers going to think. I get to the bathroom to see as my clothes are snug on my body my belly is showing and my ass is partly hanging out if my jeans which look plastered on. My 00 jeans are screaming. As my ass is posting out the back and I'm probably a size 6 or larger at this point. I struggle to take off my clothes like removing a sausage from it's casing my body feels instant relief I didn't know i needed. I there are red rings now from where my clothes where hugging me. I also notice stretch marks on my thighs belly and sides that weren't there this morning. I freak out as I dont know what to do. Maybe It's just an allergy or something as I'm not in pain I decide I'll go to the doctor in the morning. I take a shower washing my now slightly chubby body. Feeling as it's softer and squisher. My have gone from an a cup to a b cup and my ass jiggles with every moment of my legs. I finish up and decide I will go to bed as maybe it's just exhaustion. I put on my pjs and my once baggy pjs feel like they fit. I go to sleep as I slowly gain more weight through the night. I wake up and my belly is resting on my lap when I go to sit up. My 112 frame buried under 72lbs of fat. I look massive to how I was just the day before. I love the feeling of the warmth and jiggle of the fat, I decide I'll postpone the trip to the doctors. I put on the largest clothes I have and head to the mall to get some new cloths not knowing how long this will last.

[jessicaloons]

INVISIBLE STRING: FROM THE VAULT

Part 3: A Christmassy story…

Masterlist

Merry Christmas everyone 🎄🎅🏻♥️

Better late than never! As it is during Christmas, it all gets a little hectic and what I wanted to post last night had to be postponed to today… it’s a little something I started to write a year ago, at Christmas, while watching one of my all time favourite Christmas movies.

And now no more talking, here it is…

Christmas 2027:

"Radiation?" Joris cocked an eyebrow.

"Radiation." I shrugged my shoulders and he chuckled "Don’t ask. It’s- it’s her newest ick…"

"You’re surrounded by radiation the entire day with having your phone with you? So where’s the difference at ni-…"

"That’s exactly the point. Your body is exposed to radiation all day long, so at night, when it resets, there shouldn’t be any radiation!" Lizzie’s voice rang out behind us, making Joris flinch "I’ve read it in various magazines! So it can’t be that wrong!"

I had to chuckle, looking at Joris’ petrified face when Lizzie glared at me, although I could see her eyes getting watery.

"It’s not funny!" her voice strained.

"It’s not, cara mia. You’re right. I’m sorry." I replied.

"I’m not crazy…" she sniffled a little and I felt bad.

"No, you’re not! I know that, okay?" I said immediately and got up from my seat, cupping her cheek and gently stroked the side of her bump "You’re doing everything to protect our babies… so whatever you think is best we’ll do! You’re an amazing mum, okay?"

She only nodded slightly and turned away, her shoulders slumped.

"I lay down for a bit…" she whispered and waddled off, taking a short look into Emmie’s room, before she continued to our bedroom.

"I swear I didn’t want to upset her!" Joris looked at me with big eyes and I sighed, sitting back down.

"Believe me, same. The last 2 or 3 days it’s been tough, she’s more emotional than usually…" I rubbed my temples, leaning back "One moment she’s happy and bubbly, the next moment she cries about how there’s only one apple left and that it might feel alone… and then she’s mad at herself for crying about such ridiculous things which makes her cry even more because she thinks I’m annoyed of her being an emotional mess… which is not true at all. I love it. I swear."

"You’re probably the only guy on earth who loves his pregnant wife’s mood swings." Joris laughed.

"It’s cute… when she’s this bubbly Lizzie, who turns over a jar she can’t open first super frustrated and then grumpy like never seen before and curses it like there’s no tomorrow, just to be sad the next moment that whatever’s in the jar is lost forever…"

"And then you chime in and save the day…" he wiggled with his eyebrows and I held up my hands.

"You know, not all heroes wear capes… but they still get a proper thank you… if you know what I mean…"

"Yeah. No. Gross…"

Right when I wanted to reply I heard the soft steps of Emmie and Arlo approaching and when I turned a little I saw them both walk around the corner.

"Dada? Mummy look sad?" her sweet little voice sounded truly concerned and I opened my arms, hoisting her up into my lap "Why mummy sad?"

"She’s not sad, Emmie. Just a little emotional."

"Emonal?" she repeated and I smiled.

"Emotional…" I said slowly, while she quietly said the word again "That’s when you feel all sorts of emotions… that’s feelings. Sad, happy, tired, funny, moody… and you just don’t know what’s the real feeling. So you get a little overwhelmed with emotions… it’s nothing bad. It happens. Especially when someone carries a baby, or like mummy two, in their belly…"

"Mummy feel for baby one and baby two?" Emmies eyes widened and I had to chuckle.

"Yes, my little princess, that’s exactly what mummy’s feeling. Her feelings and baby one and twos feelings."

"Lot of feelings!"

"Oh yes! A lot of feelings!" I nodded and she sighed, cuddling into my chest "You know what? Why don’t you help me and Joris make some hot chocolate for mummy?"

Emmie’s eyes lit up and she jumped off my lap, already pulling me up on my feet before she grabbed onto Joris hand, doing the same.

"Comes on, Jojo! Hot chotlat for mummy!" she chirped and pulled him with her.

"I’m coming, Emmie-bug." he laughed and picked her up, following me into the kitchen, where he sat her down on the kitchen island.

"Emmie hot chotlat, too!" she looked first at me and then at Joris with her big puppy eyes and I could melt away on the spot.

"Let’s make hot chocolate for us all, okay? And then we can watch a movie before bedtime, how does that sound?"

"No bedtime."

"Emmie, we have to get up early tomorrow! We’re leaving for Christmas!" I reminded her but she shook her head.

"No bedtime." she repeated, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"No bedtime means no Christmas, and no Christmas means no pops and grams, no granny, no Liam or Elijah… no Arthi!"

"No Arthi?" Emmie whispered and I nodded.

"Also no presents…"

"Emmie like bedtime."

"Yeah?" I asked and she nodded.

"Bedtime comfy. Jojo read story?" she turned and looked at him "Pwease?"

"Of course, Emmie-bug. Every story you want!" he cooed at her and she clapped happily.

"Now chotlat for mummy!"

"Now chocolate for mummy."

"Charles?" Lizzie whispered and I turned a little, trying to make her out in the dark "I’m sorry…"

"What do you mean?" I asked, voice still hoarse from sleeping. I looked around, my eyes trying to adjust to the darkness and saw her perched against the headboard.

"For being over emotional… and unreasonable…" she said and I sat up to switch on the lamp on the night stand.

"Hey, you’re not over emotional or unreasonable!" I replied, rubbing my eyes, facing her.

"I am. The other day I cried because of a pair of socks I had to throw away since one of them had holes…"

"It was a nice pair of socks!"

"Charles…" Lizzie chuckled and I grabbed her hand, kissing her knuckles "I’m serious! I feel like I’m way worse than when I was pregnant with Emmie!"

"Yeah of course! You’re carrying twins, cara mia! Double the trouble!"

"Is that why I could eat all the damn time? I’m always hungry…" she sighed and I laughed, looking at her pouting.

"And what does my pretty girl want right now?"

"Now? Oh… umm… I’m not hungry…" she looked away and I gently grabbed her chin, turning her head.

"Lizzie… I know you… it’s 1 am that’s your time… so, what can I get for you?" I stifled a yawn.

"I’m fine… you’re tired and we’ll be picked up early…" she mumbled but I shook my head.

"Pretty girl…" I scooted closer, cupping her cheek "What do you want? Fruits? Something salty? Ice cream? A burger?"

"Some sour gums and-… it’s weird, because usually I don’t like them… salt and vinegar crisps? Do we have that?"

"On it…" I pecked her lips and shuffled out of the bed, stretching as soon as I stood up "Anything else?"

"Umm… one of these strawberry lemonades maybe?"

"Anything my pretty girl wants." I said, grabbing my sweatpants that got stuck somehow and I pulled harder almost tripping over when I finally freed it.

"Are you okay?" Lizzie looked at me and I nodded.

"It got stuck somehow… I don’t know… get comfy I’ll be right back." I slipped on my pants and left our bedroom, down the hall to the kitchen I stopped at Emmie’s bedroom and took a look inside.

Our little girl tucked in under her blankets, Arlo guarding her, sleeping right in front of her bed. He must’ve felt my presence, lifting his head looking at me. He got up, yawned and then trotted over, tilting his head.

"All good, Arlo. Just me." I whispered, kneeling down "Go watch our little princess." I stroked his fluffy fur, scratched his ears before he stretched “Ohhh big stretch! Good boy." I scratched his ears and got up "Go back to sleep…" he turned around and walked away, plopping down back at his old spot.

I rummaged through the pantry, grabbing everything Lizzie graved and trotted back to our bedroom, where a big smile spread over her face as soon as she saw me walk in.

"I can already taste the lemonade…" she made grabby hands and I laughed, handing her the can of lemonade and the crisps and sour gums.

I climbed in bed next to her, lying down and watching how she happily scrunched up her nose as soon as she ate the first sour gum, closing her eyes savouring the taste.

"Remind me to pack strawberry lemonade, salt and vinegar crisps and sour patch kids…" I yawned.

"I’m so excited for Christmas, our last without the twins… next year we’re already a family of 6…" Lizzie whispered and I cocked an eyebrow.

"6?"

"6…"

"Of course… Arlo…"

"I told you he’s our first born." Lizzie’s happy giggling made me smile and I nodded.

"You’re right. He is. And he’s an amazing big brother, guarding his little sister."

"He’s a good boy." she happily munched and I smiled, yawning again "You can sleep… you don’t have to stay awake with me…"

"Yeah?" I mumbled, fighting to keep my eyes open.

"Yeah…" Lizzie replied and leaned down, kissing my cheek "Thank you…"

"You need anything else?" I asked but she shook her head.

"No. We’re all good now. Sleep, pretty boy."

I didn’t know if I replied or not, I fell asleep almost immediately.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

An annoying ringing inside my head. But was it inside my head? I groaned and turned around, Lizzie next to me fast asleep, the ringing that definitely wasn’t just inside my head didn’t seem to bother her.

"Dada… make it stop…" Emmie rubbed her eyes, stumbling to our bed, her hair her a hot mess "Head owie!"

"I know…" I picked her up and sat her next to Lizzie "I’ll go…" I kissed her cheek and scrambled out of bed, looking for the source of the horrific sound. The door bell. And the landline phone. Both ringing at the same time. Just like my phone "What the hell?" I grabbed my phone and picked up "Hello?"

"Ah, Mr. Leclerc! Finally! I wanted to come up myself and look if everything is alright!" Matthieu, our concierge, said and the landline phone and door bell stopped ringing.

"Of course, everything’s alright? Why wouldn’t it be?" I was confused, looking around.

"There are two cars here to pick you up. They’ve been waiting for a while now and we tried to call you then-…"

"What?! But the cars should be here at 8?" I replied.

"Mr. Leclerc, it’s 8:30 am…"

"WHAT? What? How? I- what?" I checked the time at my phone and cursed "Oh shit… umm tell the drivers we’ll need a moment…"

"Can I send them up to get your bags?" Matthieu asked and I nodded.

"Yes. Everything is packed. All the bags are at the elevator…" I hastily walked back into our bedroom, pushing the buttons to open up the blinds.

"Alright. I’ll tell them." he hung up and I gently shook Lizzie.

"Cara mia? Wake up please… we need to get ready…"

"Hmm?" she mumbled, blinking a few times.

"The cars are already here… we need to get ready." I said again and her eyes shot open.

"What? But you set your alarm? What?" she scrambled up looking at Emmie next to her "Did we oversleep?"

"I don’t know. I didn’t hear the alarm. But that doesn’t matter. We need to get ready. Now. Come on." I pulled her gently off the bed and she sighed "I take care of Emmie, okay?"

"Hmm…" Lizzie mumbled and waddled away to the bathroom, yawning "Did you not set the alarm?"

"I did. I don’t know what happened…" I mumbled and picked up Emmie "Come on girlie, let’s get ready."

"Ready for Crimas!" she clapped her hands and I chuckled.

"Christmas. And no. Not quite yet. We have to get there first."

"To Christ-as?" she tried again.

"Almost, Christmas, with an 'm'… Christ- mas."

"Christ-mas." she repeated and I smiled.

"You got it right, Emmie! Good girl!" I sat her down on her bed and grabbed the clothes Lizzie had put out already "Now let’s get dressed and then we’ll have a little snack in the car, how does that sound?"

"Car?" she tilted her head, scrunching her nose.

"Yeah, we have to drive to the airport. And then we get into the jet to fly to Switzerland. To this big chalet in the mountains where all our family is waiting! To celebrate-…"

"Christmas!" she clapped excitedly and I nodded.

"Exactly! But we’re a little late. So we need to hurry up a little!"

"Houwy up! Houwy up!"

"That we have to! So let’s have a look. You look adorable, now we just need to take care of your hair and-…" I began when I saw Lizzie waddling towards the kitchen, still in her pyjamas "Alright… wait a minute…" I sat her down "You pack your sleep plushies into your backpack and play a little with Arlo, okay? I’ll be right back and make your hair." Emmie nodded and I followed Lizzie into the kitchen, finding her rummaging through the fridge "Lizzie?"

"Why is there no food?" she sniffled, turning around "I’m hungry. But there is nothing to eat. What am I supposed to do now?"

"Cara mia, we have breakfast in the jet, okay? It’s all prepared-…"

"But I’m hungry now!" she was grumpy "The babies and I are hungry now!"

"I understand, but we have nothing here, because we’re leaving now… we can stop at a bakery on the way?" I tried it again and she sighed.

"Okay… I go and take a shower…" she walked past me and I followed her.

"Cara mia, you don’t need to shower. We don’t have time. You can shower as soon as we arrive in the chalet…" I said carefully but she shook her head.

"I smell… I’m not arriving smelly for Christmas…"

"Technically it’s not Christmas yet, so… and also you don’t smell… you just had a bath last night and I can still smell your coconut butter on your skin, so please. Just get dressed and let’s go. The cars are waiting. For over half an hour now…"

"Then why didn’t you set the alarm?" she looked at me annoyed.

"I did! I don’t know why it didn’t went off! Stupid alarm clock…" I walked over to my night stand to find the alarm clock to be off, not plugged into the wall "What the… oh no… my sweatpants… fuck…" I mumbled, remembering the struggle I had at night with my pants "With my phone this wouldn’t have happen…" I groaned more to myself when a half naked Lizzie stepped out of the closet.

"What did you say?" she cocked an eyebrow and I held my hands up "Is it my fault now for protecting our babies? Last night you said I was the best mum because of it!" her bottom lip began to wobble and I hastily pulled her into me.

"And I meant it! Okay? It’s all good. Just-… please get ready. I feel bad for the drivers to wait this long because of me… and the jet and everything…" I whispered against the side of her head, kissing her temple.

"Okay. I’m almost done…" she breathed out "You need to get dressed yourself…"

"On it…"

15 minutes later I strapped Emmie into her seat and gave the driver the all clear to drive, although I had a feeling like we forgot something at home. I was nervously fidgeting with my phone next to Lizzie who happily munched on the croissant I got her from the bakery.

"What is it?" she asked after another minute of me nervously tapping my foot.

"I feel like we forgot something…" I mumbled, going over the list inside my head "I just don’t know what…"

"It can’t be important if you don’t remember it."

"I don’t know…" I looked outside the window, the car approaching the little private airport.

We had all of the bags, there was nothing left when we left the penthouse. I checked Emmie’s backpack and she had packed all her night plushies. Arlo laid on the floor in front of me, his bag with his toys and leashes in the back. Lizzie packer her bag with her books and computer last night herself and it rested now next to her on the seat. The bag with her snacks on the floor next to my feet. I couldn’t grasp what was missing but still I felt like it.

"Charles?" Lizzie grabbed my hand, squeezing it "We’ve got everything. It’s fine, you’ll see…"

"Yeah… I hope so…" I mumbled watching the car in front with our baggage stopping on the tarmac "It’s too late now anyways I guess…" I unbuckled Emmie and got out of the car, taking her with me. I helped Lizzie out of the car and she took Emmie from me, walking with Arlo towards the jet while I helped loading our baggage onto the cart, before I walked up the stairs of the jet myself.

"Welcome on board, Mr. Leclerc." the pilot shook my hand and I smiled.

"Thank you, and sorry for the delay… it got a little hectic this morning…"

"All good, Sir. Why don’t you take a seat and we’re preparing for take off."

"Thank you." I took off my jacket, handing it to the flight attendant who stored it away.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" she smiled and I shook my head, sitting down on front off Lizzie, Emmie next to her on the seat, looking outside the window.

I leaned my head back. Closing my eyes. One last time going over the list in my head. One last time going over every piece of baggage we just unloaded from the car. Lizzie’s suitcases, my suitcases, Emmie’s suitcases, the bags full off her and Arlo’s toys, the bags full of presents. The bag with Lizzie’s snacks and last but not least the 2 suitcases and backpack of…

"JORIS!" I shouted, Lizzie and Emmie both looking at me "WE FORGOT JORIS!" I took my phone out, about to call him when he already did the same.

"Jo-…"

"I can’t believe you forgot me at home…"

"I swear-…"

"Like seriously? What is this? Home alone? Your alarm doesn’t go off and you forget me in all the hectic?"

"I’m so sorry! I send the ca-…"

"Just be glad it’s more like Home Alone 2. I woke up by myself and-…" he hung up "And got in the car right in time… I just wanted to wait how long it would take you to figure out that I wasn’t with you…" Joris walked inside the jet, plopping down in the seat next to us.

"I’m so so sorry!" I looked at him sheepishly and Emmie climbed off her seat, walking over to Joris who picked her up, sitting her down in his lap.

"Jojo made Emmie hair look nice." she smiled and I looked at her, then at him.

"What?" I said and looked at Lizzie "I thought you did that?"

"I thought you did?" she replied and Joris laughed.

"Nope, I did, right Emmie bug?" he cooed at her and she smiled "And now that we’re all here… I say let’s go. Christmas is just right around the corner…"

"Christmas with pesents! Pesents for evyone!" Emmie said excited, clapping her hands "Mewwy Christmas evyone!"

🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄🎅🏻♥️🎄

I hope you enjoyed this (not so) little something and I hope you all had amazing Holidays!

Taglist: (If you don’t like to be tagged for this, let me know)

@itsjustkhaos @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @silkenthusiasts @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @shimmermotorsport @janeh22 @kahhorri @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09 @fangirlforever2000



[simscici]

Top Best Christmases of the Vilela Family

1. Asher, Iris, and Kelsey were still in college that Christmas, and since they didn’t have enough funds to host a party and were far from their families, they went to the community space to help out however they could! They recycled, created furniture, candles, and even painted some paintings!

2. As a teenager, Dahlia had a Christmas performance at school where parents and teachers were invited. They started by singing All I Want for Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey. After a few minutes of singing, there was a staged music malfunction, switching it to a funk remix, where the girls tore their dresses, revealing a new look. This left the parents speechless.

3. Dahlia ran away from home as a teenager and spent many holidays alone. During this time, she started dating Mathias (who was part of a gang), and they spent a pleasant Christmas just the two of them. Dahlia continued the tradition from her family of wearing sweaters in the colors of each generation. She definitely missed those moments a lot...

4. After many years away from her family, Dahlia returned and made amends with everyone around Christmas time, which resulted in a big celebration with everyone, complete with custom sweaters. Even Mathias joined the celebration, a clear sign that he was already part of the family!

5. Dahlia didn’t have the healthiest family growing up, and they were often very disconnected, but now she was spending another Christmas with her own family, just the way she had always dreamed! Her children would surely have wonderful memories of it.

6. The last Christmas of our patriarch, Jaiden Vilela (Generation 4 and Gray). He was nearing the end of his life, and of course, we made sure to cherish every moment we still had with him. It was a big celebration to honor Christmas!

7. The first Christmas without our patriarch from Generation 5, Asher Vilela! The family made sure to gather together to honor his memory. Additionally, there had been some past disagreements between the cousins, but now they were all reunited and happy!

8. Penelope had a hard time getting pregnant, and of course, this Christmas was filled with so much joy, as she finally had the family she had always dreamed of!

9. Soon, Touma and Yellow would be leaving for another city to study, so they hosted a more intimate Christmas party to enjoy this moment together before their departure.

I’m not sure who’s interested in doing something like this, but if you’re reading this and would like to participate, consider yourself tagged by me 😁

[bi-writes]

Nah nah you can’t just write that baby trapping fic and get away with it like that 😳 that was quite possibly one of the hottest things I’ve ever read. God why can’t I have a big brute that wants to give me a baby 😭😭

nah you have no idea. i have so many thoughts about baby daddy simon, and it is taking everything in me not to just write about it in different ways over and over again.

because who wouldn't want that giant man as their baby daddy, like...if you're gonna get pregnant, do it right, yk.

[rainroses45]

If I see one more plant!

𖧧description: You happen to be pregnant with a certain angel's baby, and with great power comes great responsibility... so here is how your powers and hormones give the Winchesters several heart attack...enjoy? Castiel x Pregnant Fem! Reader 𖧧a/n: I am obsessed with poison ivy's powers and so I was like hmmmmm "I should write this" and I did (Not Edited) 𖧧song Inspo: Kiwi - Harry Styles 𖧧warning: uummm none that I know of except maybe that pregnant reader gets emotional a lot BUT CAN YOU BLAME HER SHE IS TRYING HER BEST

The first time your powers when haywire was at a small-town department store when you were four months pregnant. Nothing out of the ordinary, nor the usual places the Winchesters frequented, but after a long hunt, they all decided a little downtime wouldn’t hurt especially since they found out you were pregnant.

The Winchesters had all sorts of equipment-guns, knives, books, *cough cough* trauma- but booster seats, cribs, and diapers, not so much. So with that in mind, they didn't argue when you dragged them out to different department stores.

Sam was poking around the electronics section ( his computer screen was stuck on busty asian beauties. com again), Dean was trying on a ridiculous-looking novelty hat, and you were wandering the aisles, following a trail of pink and blue onesies, cute little shoes, and soft blankets.

You hadn’t been feeling emotional at all that morning—really, you hadn’t. The pregnancy was going well, the baby was healthy, and you had Castiel by your side. What could go wrong?

Then, you spotted it: a tiny pair of shoes. They were so small and cute, pink with little flowers on them. Your heart absolutely melted.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your eyes going wide. “They’re just… they’re so tiny! And adorable! Oh my god, what if… what if they… the baby wears them, and I'm having a little baby girl! Oh look they have them in blue too and—and… I just can’t handle this!”

Dean, who had been half-heartedly inspecting a display of bizarre looking mannequins, turned at the sound of your voice. “What the hell is going on over there?”

Before anyone could answer, you started tearing up. Big, dramatic, teary-eyed sobs as your emotions got the best of you. “It’s so cute! This is so cute! OMG why is everything here so cute?!”

Castiel, who had been silently standing by, watching the situation unfold, immediately stepped forward, his face softening in concern. “Y/N, sweetheart, it’s okay. Just… breathe. I understand the tiny items are cute.”

But it was too late for your boyfriend's soft words to soothe you. Your powers had already started to react to the uncontrollable emotions. Tiny flowers began sprouting from the ground beneath your feet. They were delicate little blooms—daisies, roses, violets—pushing through the cracked, textile floor. The flowers spread out around you, their sweet fragrance filling the air, and color overshadowing the cute clothing.

Dean, who had been watching you with a mix of confusion and curiosity, with a hint of amusement, quickly turned to Sam. “Okay, this I did not sign up for.”

Sam was trying to hold back his laughter, but when a single daisy bloomed in the middle of his shoe, he couldn’t help it. “Dude, you’re telling me you didn’t think this would happen? She’s practically the real life poison ivy!”

Dean shot Sam a glare. “Not the point, Sammy. We need to figure out how to fix this before we turn this store into the weirdest garden party ever.”

Meanwhile, while the boys were observing the weird scenario happening some people also were starting to notice. A lady in the aisle who was eyeing the chupones (I don't know what this is called in English sorry) next to you was giving you a curious look, unsure whether she should be worried or mental.

“Uh, hey, ma’am,” Dean said, stepping into her line of sight with a big grin. “Nothing to see here. Just, uh, a bit of… plant therapy going on.” He flashed a grin, trying to divert her attention.

The woman blinked at him, her eyes darting between Dean and the flowers. “Are you… sure? I mean how did the flowers appear out of no where? I mean isn't that a bit odd?”

Sam noticing his brother struggling with getting the lady away from the scene, stepped in, “Oh yeah, it’s totally normal. She’s just… you know, super into horticulture. All natural, totally organic stuff.”

“Yeah, you know,” Dean added with a wink, having no idea what the hell was horticulture was. “Just don’t touch the plants. Some of them bite- fuck." Dean cursed under his breath as he was too late catch his mistake.

The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning if she’d accidentally stumbled into a strange dimension or if this was all just an elaborate joke. “I see…” She backed away slowly, nervously laughing while she looked around hoping to see a video camera or something.

Cas on the other hand was doing his best to calm you down. He crouched beside you, gently taking your hands in his, his gaze soft yet filled with concern.

“Y/N, sweetheart, listen to me,” he said in his steady, calming tone. “I know it’s overwhelming, but you need to control your breathing. Focus on me, okay?”

You wiped your tears, sniffling, still a little overwhelmed by the sheer cuteness of the tiny shoes. “But Cas… What if I mess up? What if I’m not a good mom? What if… what if the baby doesn’t like flowers?What if the baby doesn't like the shoes I get them? What if they don't like me? What if I-”

Castiel’s eyes softened even more as he took a deep breath, leaning forward to gently press a kiss to your forehead. “You’re already doing wonderfully. The baby will love whatever you give it—because it will have you. You’ll be perfect.”

You took a shaky breath, your tears subsiding as his words sank in. Slowly, you wiped your tears which seemed to be the same effect of brushing the flowers away from your feet, watching as they melted back into the ground, leaving behind only the faintest trace of green.

Dean and Sam returned to your side, looking almost relieved the situation was under control.

Dean let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Okay, that was fun… but if I ever see a store more than five feet away from a hunt again, I’m gonna have to rethink my life choices.”

Sam chuckled softly. “What, you don’t like shopping with us?”

“I don’t mind it,” Dean said with a grin, “but the next time I see any more flowers in this place, I’m throwing a fit.”

You managed a small laugh as you wiped your eyes, the overwhelming emotions still there but a little easier to manage now. “Thanks, guys. I think I’m okay now. But… seriously, I’m never going near baby shoes again.”

Castiel smiled at you, offering a hand to help you back up. “Perhaps we should just stick to something a bit more practical next time?”

You nodded, still feeling a little sheepish. “Yeah, maybe… like, I don’t know, diapers?”

Dean smirked. “I’m all for the diapers. Less flowers, more action.”

The second time it was a quiet morning, and the everyone had decided to take a much-needed break from hunting. After a long few weeks of tracking down monsters, a little downtime at a cozy diner seemed perfect. You, being six months pregnant, were very excited about food. And when you’d glanced at the menu and seen pancakes, you didn’t hold back. You ordered everything—pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, and just about every side dish they had to offer. You were starving. Nothing was going to get in your way between you and your maple syrup.

You slid into the booth with Dean and Sam, Castiel sitting beside you on the opposite end of the brothers. He did look a little out of place in the cozy diner with his trench coat still on, but so did a pregnant lady wearing a Bluey onesie, and two other guys in cowboy outfits.

The brothers were already halfway through their coffee, talking about the next hunt, but your mind was purely focused on the delicious serving of food coming your way.

Dean glanced at you with an amused grin. “You really going to eat all that, or is that just for show?”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. “I’m pregnant, Dean. I feel like I just ordered an appetizer. Do not judge me.”

Sam laughed softly. “ Leave her alone Dean, she is carrying an angel's baby and a superpowered one at that. Let the girl eat whatever she wants."

Dean just shook his head. “Well, just don’t blame me when you can’t move after. I didn’t order the mountain of food.”

Just as you were about to playfully strangle Dean, the waitress brought over your huge order, but something was off. You had your eggs, you had your bacon, waffles, omelet, but something was missing. There was a stack of pancakes for Sam, a stack of pancakes for Dean, and a stack of pancakes for Cas— everyone got fluffy stack of pancakes except for you.

“Hey,” you said, frowning at the waitress. “Excuse me Miss, where are my pancakes?”

The waitress blinked, clearly flustered. “Oh! I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’ll get them right out for you.” She hurried away not before giving you a smile.

You sighed, staring at your plate, which now had way too many waffles and not enough pancakes. You pouted slightly. “I really wanted those pancakes…”

Castiel, who had been silently observing, stood up with his usual determination. “I will go get them for you, my beloved Y/N.” He headed toward the counter before anyone could stop him, his eyes already focused on the task at hand.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Cas, relax. It’s not like it’s a big deal—”

But before he could finish his sentence, two women seated by the counter noticed Castiel, eyes widening as they took in his rugged, angelic demeanor. They exchanged a quick glance, their faces lighting up with interest.

One of them, bold and confident, immediately stood up and walked toward him. “Hey there, handsome,” she said, flashing a playful smile. “I couldn’t help but notice… you’re not from around here. What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

Castiel, oblivious to the subtleties of anytype of human interactions, blinked in confusion. “I am simply retrieving pancakes for my girlfriend.”

The woman laughed, clearly not getting the hint. “Oh, you have a girlfriend? That’s cute." She dragged her freshly done nails over his chest. "But I bet she’d let you have a little fun, right?”

You, sitting back at the booth, started to feel that familiar irritation rise up, and your fingers twitched. Maybe a little too much.

Before you could stop it, the ground beneath you began to tremble slightly, and tiny cacti started sprouting from the floor, little spinky plants pushing up through the checkered text tiles and spreading outward. A few even shot out from the booth’s cushions, their thorns digging into the fabric around you.

Dean and Sam exchanged a panicked glance, both of them groaning in unison. “Not again,” Sam muttered, rubbing his temples.

Dean just sighed, glancing over at the growing cactus problem. “I swear, Cas better wrap this up before we turn this place into the weirdest garden party.... again!”

You were too far gone to notice their worried glances. Every little flirtatious giggle from the women sent your emotions spiraling, and more and more cacti grew—thick, spinky, sharp, cacti. There were even a few sprouting from nearby tables and counters, causing customers to take wide-eyed steps back.

The women, realizing that Castiel wasn’t giving them the attention they wanted, glanced around nervously. They tried to get a little closer to him, but he was still looking at them with that same confused expression.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a frown, “but I am in a committed relationship with my amazing, gorgeous girlfriend, and we are expecting a child together. I cannot- no I will not accept your advances because I find your lack of beauty and personality disgusting. So please let me return back to my girlfriend, or I will have to fry your face.”

The women blinked, their smiles faltering. “Oh… uh, I didn’t know you were expecting,” one of them said, her voice wavering. “Well, uh, congratulations, I guess… sorry to bother you.” They quickly backed away, clearly embarrassed, but your plant-related meltdown was far from over. A faint whispers of, "please don't kill us."

"Asshats." Cas muttered as he watched the two ladies walk away, patches of Cactus sticking out of their skin.

Dean and Sam rushed over to your side of the booth and tried calming you down. Sam immediately started pushing the closest cactus plant down into the ground. “Please, Y/N, just calm down! We’ll get your pancakes! We’ll get everything you want!”

Dean took the opposite approach, shoving a plate of his own pancakes toward you, trying to distract you. “Here! Just have mine! Pancakes! See? Everything’s fine!”

You looked at both of them, your eyes wide with irritation as another cactus popped up in the middle of the table. “I don’t want your pancakes, Dean! I want my own pancakes! I want my own boyfriend! I want my loyal boyfriend to bring me pancakes!”

More cacti began sprouting around the booth, some growing from the floor, while others were now tangled between the chairs. Sam was frantically trying to push them back down, his face a mix of exhaustion and exasperation. “Why is she always so persistent when it comes to the plants?! Why couldn’t she just shoot a man like the rest of us?!”

Dean held up his hands, trying to calm you down. “Okay, okay. No need to start a whole desert in here. Cas! Tell her we’re fine. Tell her you already turned down the STD whores!”

Castiel returned to the table, completely unaware of the level of destruction the plants had caused. He placed the pancakes in front of you, a serene smile on his face. “Here you go, beautiful. Your pancakes, I even got them with whip cream.” He placed a kiss on your head. "Would you like me to cut them up for you?"

You took a deep breath as you reached for your pancakes, but you couldn’t help but smile at him even as you felt like you were going to twist his guys inside and out. He’d turned the girls down. And so calmly, too. It was like it wasn’t even a second thought.

Dean and Sam were still working together to keep plants from growing into the booth’s walls. Sam was pushing one of the cacti down, while Dean was shoving another out the door, his eyes twitching with disbelief.

“Guys, I swear,” Dean muttered, “if I have to fight off one more cactus, I’m getting the hell out of here.”

“You’re lucky we’re not going to die from these plants,” Sam grumbled, attempting to swat at a rogue vine that had started climbing up a nearby window.

You laughed softly, the last of the cacti finally retracting as you calmed down. You were feeling better, but now the diner was definitely looking a lot more like a desert garden. “Sorry, guys. I just… I couldn’t help it.”

Castiel smiled down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “It’s alright, darling. I would never allow anyone to take my attention from you.”

You smiled, feeling a little sheepish. “Thanks, Cas. You really handled that well.”

Dean and Sam, clearly exhausted from the plant chaos, collapsed back into the booth with you, still eyeing the last few cacti with suspicion.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Dean said, eyeing the growing cactus garden with disbelief. “Next time, we’re sticking to delivery pizza, okay? No more pancakes, no more plants.”

The third time seemed to be no different. It was another quiet morning on the road. The Impala had made a pit stop at a gas station, and the Winchesters, along with Castiel, were inside grabbing snacks and supplies. You were trying to hold it together, but being six months pregnant made everything a little… well, more difficult. You’d been looking forward to getting out of the car and stretching your legs, but the moment you stepped out of the car, you felt the weight of your growing belly.

It had taken a toll on your body. With new stretch marks, and odd cramps and cravings, you didn’t expect to out grow your clothing so fast.

Inside the convenience store, you were eyeing some snacks when Sam, in his usual well-meaning but oblivious way, made the comment that would unintentionally set things off.

“Y/N,” Sam said, glancing up from the bag of chips he was holding, “I think you should get bigger pants or something. I mean, it might help you feel more comfortable, you know? I don’t want you to strain yourself or the baby.” He smiled, thinking the simple hardships of the beginning of motherhood would be appreciated by the soft comfort of jeggings.

You froze. The words hit you harder than Sam could’ve known. Of course, you were aware of your growing belly, but you weren’t expecting to be reminded of it so bluntly (it was no where close to being blunt). You gave him a tight smile, but inside, it stung.

Dean noticed the shift in your mood almost immediately. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice low and concerned.

But before Sam could even register the impact of his words, you felt the anger and hurt bubbling up inside you. The next thing anyone knew, thick vines began sprouting up around you, twisting and curling out from the ground, wrapping themselves tightly around Sam’s legs, his arms, and even his waist. He froze, eyes wide in shock as the plants continued to tighten around him.

“Y/N, what the hell?!” Sam gasped, struggling against the vines. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Dean stepped forward, panic rising in his voice. “No, no, not again—come on, Y/N, you gotta calm down.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a can of weed repellent, spraying it in the air in an attempt to keep the plants at bay. “I knew this would come in handy.”

But no matter how much Dean sprayed, the vines didn’t seem to back off. Sam was now fully encased in a web of thick, green vines that pulled tighter with every second, making it hard for him to move.

“Y/N, please—I didn’t mean it that way!” Sam was practically pleading now, his voice muffled by the plant growth surrounding him.

Dean, frantic and trying to get to you, turned to Castiel. “Cas, help! She’s gone full jungle, and Sam’s about to become plant food!”

Cas, who had been silently observing the whole thing with wide eyes, turned to you with a soft, comforting expression. “Aww, sweetheart, it’s okay. He didn’t mean to upset you.”

Dean shot Cas a look, as if to say, Are you kidding me right now?

“It’s not okay,” Dean snapped. “Cas, help me! We’re running out of weed repellent, and Sam is literally about to get swallowed by the vines!”

“Those are actually not weeds they are-“ “They could be dancing salsa beans for all I care help me!”

Castiel looked at Dean for a moment, before turning his attention back to you. He took a slow step toward you, his voice gentle. “Y/N, I know you’re upset, but it’s okay. Sam didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You were still angry, but hearing Cas’ calm tone seemed to ease the tension a little. The vines wrapped around Sam loosened, just slightly, but it was enough for him to gasp for air. “I swear, I didn’t mean anything by it, Y/N. Please… I just thought you might be more comfortable, that’s all. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings I’m so sorry.”

You glanced at Sam, then to Castiel, who was smiling softly at you. The reassurance in his voice had a calming effect, but the vines—now with a mind of their own—had a different idea. They snapped back at Sam one last time, tightening around his chest, almost as if to say, this is what happens when you mess with my girl.

Dean, now frantically spraying more weed repellent, hissed, “Cas, please do something! We’re losing Sam to the vines!”

Castiel stepped closer to you, his hand gently resting on your arm. “Y/N, honey, just breathe. Everything’s fine. Sam didn’t know how his words affected you.”

Dean, now out of repellent, was genuinely losing his patience. “Cas, seriously, do something! He’s gonna get tangled in the damn plants forever if you don’t!”

You took a deep breath, the vines finally relaxing around Sam, though he was still stuck. You raised an eyebrow at Dean’s frantic expression, your anger dissipating into something more mischievous.

“Oh sorry,” you said, your tone finally softening. “I’m sorry Sam, I just- I don’t know what came over me it’s been hard controlling everything you know?” The vines retreated slowly, leaving Sam tangled up in a few stray leaves, looking slightly defeated.

Dean let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Thank God. If I had to deal with you two and the plants much longer, I was about to set the whole diner on fire.”

Sam, now free of most of the vines, shot you a sheepish look. “No it’s my fault. Sorry, really. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. But I guess I should’ve worded that differently.”

You finally gave him a small smile, the tension breaking. “It’s okay, Sam. I’m sorry for letting my powers get the best out of me. It’s hard to tell wether it’s the baby or me who’s in control.”

Dean threw up his hands, looking exasperated. “It’s not okay! You almost turned this place into Jurassic Park! We can’t keep dealing with this every time you get upset!”

Cas, with his trademark calm demeanor, reached over to gently rub your back. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You just need to know it’s okay to express your feelings.”

You smiled at him, grateful for the comfort.

Dean rubbed his temples, clearly exhausted from the ordeal. “I swear, if I have to fight one more damn plant, I’m gonna lose it.”

“Don’t worry, Dean,” you said, laughing softly, “I think we’re done with the plants for now.”

Dean shot a glare at the nearest cactus sprout. “Yeah, well, let’s hope so.”

*Cue the meme*

Dean after not seeing a plant  incident

“wow i haven’t stubbed my toe in 5 months” I said with joyous

(you go into labor and cause a whole rainforest)

I was then shot 57 times in the chest

[furious-rogue-stuff]

Heat Chapter 46: Chisme

Merry Christmas, yah filthy animals! 😜 This has been long overdue, and while this year has been awful and landed me in the hospital for emergency surgery, it actually forced me to slow down and rest - which helped me finally finish this installment~! Hope you enjoy 😊

Pairing: Javier Peña x OFC | Javi x Querida

Disclaimer: Written in 2nd person narrative, you can safely assume our heroine and love/lust interest is a Latina, written by a Latina. Here's my philosophy on my writing, for further context.

Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞

Word Count: 21,000+

Summary: You feel serene and content now that Javi knows what you've been going through. It's brought you both even closer. So as the gala looms close, and you each get wind about all the gossip regarding your not-so-secret relationship at work, will the opinions of others test you both?

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sex, including unprotected sex. Mentions of raunchy sexual acts, angst, wariness, anxiety, and fertility worries. Descriptions of power play, praise kink, light bondage and dirty talk. Allusions to jealousy, animosity, foreboding threats, and resentment. Some Jealous!Javi, Protective! Javi, Nervous!Reader. In the vein of Narcos being a bilingual show, and Javier Peña being fluent, I felt it was apropos to include Spanglish and Spanish throughout.

Heat Masterlist

Previous chapter - Chapter 45: Deserving - Part 2

Chapter 46: Chisme

After the surprising rollercoaster of emotion and passion that transpired following the barbecue, you and Javier are on cloud nine.

It felt like the last big wall that you'd kept up to guard your heart had fallen away, and Javi was still there, devoted and willing to love and protect you. And for him, it felt like a big obstacle had been conquered for you both. Not to mention that you understood the depth of his love for you, finally, while also making him feel the most fulfilled he's ever been. Yet still yearning hopefully for so much more still to come.

The next morning, while still cuddled in his arms, you'd told him about everything. Explained everything the doctors had told you so far, all the tests and check-ups, how you'd been off of the pill since before he'd come down to take the job. All your fears regarding your fertility issues being permanent – seemingly inherited from your mother, who'd had trouble conceiving. How that had played a role in the dissolution of your parents' marriage.

How you'd started to consciously fear that the same would happen between you and Javier.

His heart had ached at you telling him that.

Resolute, Javi had insisted, "Querida, that would never happen—"

"But, I just…I wasn't sure. We'd talked about it so loosely, but that was if it happened by accident. And—And at the time, I didn't think that I wouldn't be able to. That the choice wouldn't be mine. I spent so much of my life protecting myself from getting pregnant, I didn't ever think the possibility was nonexistent—"

Gently, he'd pressed, "Mi amor, you don't know that yet. You said nothing's been diagnosed yet."

Taking a breath, you'd gazed into his eyes, and asked, "What if, you want to start a family one day, and I…I can't get pregnant?"

"Honestly? I spent all day yesterday anxious, thinking you might've been, and I was," Javi paused, not wanting to say 'I was scared' since it wasn't accurate, but then he continued, "I was nervous. I don't think I'm cut out to be a parent. To be a father" was his admittance, and at your shocked expression, he confessed, "But then, seeing you hold the baby? Thinking of us being there for each other, doing it together, if it was happening? It didn't seem scary anymore."

Touched deeply by that, you'd hugged him tight, and Javier nuzzled you sweetly when you whispered, "Really?"

"Absolutely," he'd assured, dark brewed eyes softening as he caressed your cheek tenderly.

He'd gone on to tell you how it wasn't anything like the last time he'd had the prospect of fatherhood foisted upon him. How Lorraine telling him she was late had filled him with terror, and a paralyzing sense of doom. But that the thought of not doing right by her hadn't even crossed his mind. The obligation is what had kept him in the relationship that had always been rocky, with only the hope of being a good father – a good provider – keeping him from sinking into dread every day. And how all of that had caved in around him when she'd told him the day before the wedding that she'd gotten her period. That from the start, she hadn't been completely sure she was pregnant, but had thought it would be good for them – that it'd make them settle down, and commit completely.

It was the most Javier had ever spoken about that time. Sure, you'd known important details. That around the same time he'd been thinking of applying to the DEA, Lorraine had told him she was late. How to keep things from devolving into gossip and drama – to preserve her honor and not disappoint her parents, he'd told her they should get married. And the rush to plan something had included asking her father for his blessing, showing him the ring Lorraine had picked out and he'd purchased, and booking the chapel on the hot summer day for the nuptials to happen not even a month later.

But hearing how the feelings had been so different then than they'd been for him the day before? That unlike feeling resigned to his fate then, he'd felt something shift for him at the thought of you being pregnant? It made your heart feel full.

So, all the fear and shame melted away when Javier had told you with genuine feeling, "If we're meant to have a family, we will. Nothing is decided for us. As long as we love each other, and we want to make a life together, that's everything I could ever want. I want to build a life that matters with you, Celina. I want to make you happy. I love you."

As you wait outside the shop, reminiscing about the heart-to-heart, you think about how you'd told Javi, "I love you so much, Javier. I want the same thing," and are distracted in your fawning thoughts, so you don't notice Zoraida rush over from the nearest mall entry until she's tapping you on the shoulder.

Startled, you whirl around and huff at yourself before warmly greeting her with a kiss on the cheek and hug.

"Someone's jumpy," she wisecracks, smiling as she gives you a knowing once over. "Did you get a tan?"

"I did," you answer simply and lope over to the front display window of the shop. "Rafa is meeting us here, right?"

"Yep! He's on his way from Buchanan," she retorts and checks her watch. "Tayra said she's coming from Guaynabo, so hopefully she'll get here soon."

"And the plan is for the engagement party to happen Sunday at their place, right?" you ask, as you absently balance your weight onto your left hip and shift your purse to sit more comfortably on your shoulder.

"Yeah, it's gonna be a surprise. He's taking her away to propose Saturday, and when they come back home, the party will be happening," she explains, then adds amusedly, "I cannot believe one of us is finally going to succumb to marriage."

"Well, she could end up saying no, so the surprise party might be kind of awkward," you sarcastically muse.

"Ay, por favor. You know she's been wanting to get married forever," is your friend's glib reminder, to which you concede with a sardonic shrug. "Are you bringing Javier to the party?"

"Yes, and I'm warning you from now to not give him the third degree, ok?" is your stern mutter, crossing your arms when she scoffs and waves you off, so you insist, "Seriously. I want to bring him along and just have a nice time. The focus should be on Naida and Rafa anyway—"

"What're you lecturing Zory on?"

You both turn to see Tayra approach from the central promenade of the mall, with her long stride and confident poise.

"Eh, she doesn't want us to interrogate her jevo on Sunday," Zoraida deadpans before kissing her hello on the cheek. "With her track record, I don't think we should listen—"

"Zory!" you snipe, taking umbrage before quickly greeting Tayra hello.

"Well, she has a point. We didn't do nearly the questioning we should've the last time—" is Tayra's matter-of-fact musing that you scoff dismissively at.

"This isn't like the last time. I've told you plenty about him and our relationship already. Probably more than I should've. So be satisfied with that, and please, just be nice to him," you beseech, hands going to your dark blue pantsuit-clad hips when they both exchange contrarian looks.

Just as they seem about to tag team you with their objections, Rafa approaches from the nearest entryway into the mall.

"Hey, guys! Thanks for meeting me and helping out with this," Rafael Pagán, Naida's longtime boyfriend, greets boisterously as he hugs you each.

"We're more than happy to!" you affably assure.

The discussion around Javier is put to the back burner, and the four of you enter the jewelry store filled with wall-to-wall display cases. You are greeted by a saleswoman behind the center display console, who helps guide you all over to the engagement ring section.

The assortment of fine jewelry and lavish-looking diamonds throughout are clearly intimidating for Rafa, so you three talk through all the specifications you know Naida would like in an engagement ring.

"—Something that will fit a setting like this one. She's never liked the standard wedding band."

"Yeah, and no pear-cut diamond! She thinks it's the ugliest."

"And yellow gold. She thinks platinum gold is nice, but she doesn't think it looks traditional enough."

After perusing the display counter individually, you each decide to pick out a ring for consideration.

"Oh, what about that one?" you point out a specific ring in the display case to the saleslady, and once she's retrieved and placed it down on the glass surface for you all, you remark, "It looks timeless, elegant."

The girls check out the sweeping cross-prong, classic 3-stone engagement ring in the yellow gold band, admiring the clarity of the center circular diamond and the smaller matching ones on either side of it.

"Wow, it kind of looks like one of the ones she used to have in that scrapbook, remember?" Tayra remarks, and Zoraida nods along.

"Uh, scrapbook?" Rafa asks, looking nervous.

"Oh, don't worry. It's not like she's been fantasizing about her perfect wedding since she was 13-years-old or anything," Zoraida can't help quip, and you shake your head comically at her adding, "All the way down to the pattern of the napkins at the reception—"

"Anyway, I think this one is definitely a contender," you redirect sagely and gesture for the girls to keep perusing the display case.

Doing so, Tayra selects a more vintage-looking option, while Zoraida picks out a very glitzy 18-karat gold and knife-edge diamond ring with smaller stones lapping the band on either side of the big princess-cut center diamond.

Leaving the final decision to Rafa, you each agree to not lobby him to pick in front of you, deciding to be surprised by the selection like everyone else will during the engagement party.

"—Oh, remember her ring size is six," you tell Rafa as the three of you wish him well and say your goodbyes.

"Thank you all! I really couldn't have done this without your help," he genuinely declares before going to the purchase counter to deliberate on which ring to choose.

As soon as you three are away from the shop and at the main thruway of the mall, Tayra mutters to Zoraida, "You know there's no way he's picking yours, right?! That was easily a 5-figure ring!"

"He said he's been saving up!" she defends, and you snicker drolly, so she needles, "Oh, so when Javier asks for our help to pick a ring, I should go with the most cheapy-choppy thing, eh?"

"Mine wasn't cheapy-choppy!" you counter, shoving her wryly by her shoulder. "I have a photographic memory, and that ring was almost exact to one of her favorites in her scrapbook."

"It just wasn't gaudy, like you like your jewelry, Zory," Tayra lobs and grins.

Scoffing with outrage while you purse your lips knowingly, Zoraida snipes, "My jewelry is not gaudy! It's just ritzier than you two like wearing, is all. As a matter of fact, Eleanor Roosevelt called, and she wants her ring back, Tayra!"

"Oh, whatever! It was a gorgeous vintage ring! That oval-cut diamond is timeless, and the braided band was something she's always liked as a design feature—" Tayra litigates to Zoraida, who plays aloof as she checks her manicure.

"It looked like the ring an old lady wore before The Great Depression," she zings dryly.

"Ok, I think we all have said our pieces. I guess we'll just see on Sunday, won't we?" you declare and gesture for a truce between the three of you.

All in agreement, you each exchange goodbyes in order to hurry back to your jobs, going your separate ways, with well wishes for the rest of your day and exclamations of, 'See you Sunday!'

You walk through the busy mall towards Sears, which is on the side of the building with the adjoining parking garage. As you go through the main level and head up the escalator to the third floor, you're unaware of the stares from some of the men in your vicinity as you stroll by – attention on getting through the lunchtime crowd so you can make it out to your car, which is parked on the top level of the garage.

Ugh, I gotta come back here before Friday with the girls, you're thinking to yourself, remembering you still need to get a pair of heels to go with the dress you're wearing for the gala. As you mentally itemize other errands and chores you needed to complete before the weekend, you're on autopilot while walking through the furniture showroom of the department store en route for the adjoining food court entrance.

It isn't until you've made it midway into the bustling space of diners milling around waiting in lines, grabbing tables, or meandering in the way, that a feeling prickles at the back of your neck.

Turning to look over your shoulder as you keep walking, you don't see anything out of the ordinary that could explain the weird feeling that you were being watched, so after almost bumping into a group of middle schoolers at lunch during their school field trip, you chastise yourself for not paying attention, and rush towards the outer exit.

You get to your car, and are about to get into the driver's side, but something makes you dutifully round the vehicle and check to make sure your tires look fine. Finding nothing out of the ordinary yet again, you scoff at yourself, get in the car, and pull out of the spot before cruising down to the ramp to exit the structure out to the street leading towards the avenue that will make your commute back to the Federal campus shorter.

While you're pulling into the security checkpoint's front gate, Javier is trying to rein his impatience in as he once again gets left on hold while trying to reach the FBI Agent in Charge, Bozzi, who has been indisposed most of the week so far.

"—Sorry for the wait, Agent Peña. We were unable to reach Agent Bozzi. Would you like to leave a message?" the man's admin politely explains when she returns on the line.

"I've been trying to get in contact with him almost every day this week already. Just tell him to call me back as soon as possible, please," he instructs curtly before ending the call. "Fucking prick," is his sharp grumble as he leans back in his desk chair.

"Who's a prick?" Steve asks as he walks into their shared office space with his refreshed mug of coffee.

Glaring over at him, Javi grouses, "How 'bout you call that Bozzi asshole and see why he's blocking the coordinated op, before I go over there and kick his door down."

"Oh, I'm not in charge of that, amigo," Steve acerbically rasps in that twang of his, shrugging innocently when Javi scoffs and scrubs his palm down his face in clear aggravation. "Plus, you don't want to signal to the guy that he's able to get under your skin, do yah?"

Huffing gruffly at Steve's point, Javi broodingly crosses his arms and concedes, "Of course I don't, but I don't have the patience to put up with this inter-agency standoff bullshit."

"You could go to Mercer about it?" Steve suggests, knowing by Javier's glower that is definitely not a serious prospect. "Or just go back to your days of running down informants, and roll up on the asshole?"

Grunting moodily, Javi considers it, then wonders out loud, "Think he'll be at the gala Friday?"

"Hah, you're willing to have a dustup with the dude there?" Steve asks, taking a quick sip of coffee, then presses further, "With Celina dressed to the nines, and practically all the Federal employees in attendance?"

Grunting sourly at the mental visual of him blowing his stack at Bozzi in the middle of the swanky event, with you standing by, horrified, Javi shakes his head and exhales, "No, that wouldn't be right."

"Well, I heard he's a gym rat. A lot of the federal agency guys use the training facilities at Fort Buchanan. It's supposed to have a state-of-the-art fitness center. Including a boxing ring," Steve mentions thoughtfully as he organizes his desk.

Absorbing that, Javi ruminates on it. While he considers the merits of dropping in on the FBI special agent without warning, you're in your office reviewing the progress reports on the upgrades your team has been undertaking.

After a few minutes of that, you sigh and set the reports aside so you can take a break and take another bite of your lunch. You pause just as a knock raps on your door, followed by Devon poking his head in. Waving him in since your mouth is full, you quickly dab your napkin over your lips while he apologizes.

"Sorry! I wanted to go over your calendar for the trip?"

"No worries! I had to run out during lunch so I've been multitasking eating and reading," you retort affably and put the lid of your lunch container on before grabbing for your planner. "We've been so busy lately, so thank you for being proactive and helping me plan this."

"No problem. So, I was able to coordinate the best dates the team lead there could have everyone be available for the conference in St. Thomas," Devon explains as he sits in front of your desk and reviews the itinerary he's worked on. "I think with everything coordinated right, you'd only need to be gone two, three days tops."

"Oh, excellent," you reply, relieved to not have to bother with making the arrangements this time around. "The last trip before the holidays had been such a hassle. I didn't plan the flights right and had a day layover."

"Luckily they've increased the flights now, so there are more options," Devon remarks before going into detail about the dates, tentative schedule for meetings, the conference, etc.

You're just in the middle of finalizing the last details when another knock on your door draws both your attentions to it as Ellis opens it and leans in to ask, "Interrupting anything?"

"We're just planning for that upgrade conference in St. Thomas," you retort and wave him in as you ask, "What's up?"

"Totally not important, but I'm going to be busy the rest of the week with some telecom stuff, so I wanted to ask if you knew the level of swank I need to dress for the gala Friday night?" your friend explains and asks as he sits in the available chair next to Devon.

"I swear, did no one read the email?" you joke, amused at Devon and Ellis exchanging puzzled looks, so you relent, "Ok, I don't think they did a good job spelling it out in the invite, but based on the location and who will be attending, it's cocktail attire."

"Soooo…" Ellis dramatically intones as he moves his hand in a beckoning gesture for you to elaborate.

"So, not business casual, and not black tie. Basically a nice suit. Nothing casual," you explain with a wry smirk when Devon nods and Ellis frowns. "Just let Anita dress you."

"Har-dee-har," he drawls comically before asking Devon, "You're a snappy dresser, so how fancy you planning on taking it?"

"Well, Noreen is wearing a cocktail dress, so I plan on wearing a dark suit and tie," the younger man answers, adding, "Oh, and a matching pocket square."

"See? That's perfect cocktail attire," you razz Ellis, who has always preferred being business casual.

"Alright, fine. I'll just have Anita get something for me," he defaults amiably as he looks at his watch. "Crap, I gotta head to my meeting. You and Anita were going to the mall still, right?"

"Yep. Connie, too. We're planning on meeting up Thursday at Plaza after work. Now go, before you're late!" is your quip.

As Ellis gets up and pats Devon on the shoulder in goodbye, he asks, "You and Javier are riding to the gala together? Or do you need a ride?"

"So far, we're driving together. I'll let you know if plans change," you retort coolly and wave him off as he exits your office.

Once you're both alone again, Devon scoots to the edge of his seat before asking, "I take it things are official?" At your curious expression, he clarifies, "Forgive me for asking, I meant about you and Agent Peña."

"Oh. Yes. We've, um, reconciled," you find yourself answering, before scoffing at your choice of words, then adding more confidently, "Yes, we're seeing each other again. He'll be my date to the gala."

"Good, I'm glad," Devon genuinely tells you, and at your brows raising in query, he confides, "There's just been chatter in the building the last few weeks. Mostly speculation—"

"Mind telling me some?" you interject, tone easygoing as you add, "It's when you're the subject of the gossip that it tends to rarely filter your way."

Cracking a lopsided smile, Devon nods and admits, "Well, everyone has heard some version of Colombia and what went down there; how your relationship was secret, but still managed to, um, get out. But for some time, since he first set up in the office here, really, people have been speculating that he only came down here to rekindle things."

"Oh?" you ask, intrigued, but not giving anything up.

"Yeah. I guess the gossip picked up from you both being seen walking together on the campus after lunch one day. And occasions when you've both driven out in the same car together for home?" he tells you as he idly toys with his work binder after sitting back more comfortably in the chair. "It's mostly been observational. No negative commentary or anything. At least none that I've heard."

You absorb that, then respond, "Thank you for telling me. In full transparency, we've put off disclosing the relationship officially to the chief, but plan to do so very soon. Since the guidelines aren't as restrictive as they'd been back at the embassy, it didn't seem like anything we needed to rush."

"Understood. And this stays between us," Devon replies earnestly.

You sense his genuine conviction on the matter, and give him a grateful smile, nodding your unspoken thanks.

"All right. Now, where were we with the planning?" you redirect back to the previous task seamlessly.

Unbeknownst to you, the gossip in the building about you and Javier had many layers, and most of them were filtered away from your staff, who politely kept any knowledge private and did not themselves partake in talking rumors. So, Devon nor anyone else would've been aware of the tawdrier chatter and speculation.

If not for the local junior officers who'd been tasked to work with the different federal agencies keeping their ears open and having fostered such goodwill with them overtime, Javier wouldn't know half of the chisme that was going around. All of his and Steve's agents had enough sense not to talk about it in the field office, or within earshot of the ASAC, Segarra, but he was always able to read the energy of others who thought they knew shit about him.

That being said, Javier was still getting used to having the blather about him involve you, and it ground his gears that anyone would dare gossip about you at all. Let alone because of him.

As he drove to your place at the end of the workday, he couldn't help brood over it, especially after spending so much time trying to pin down Bozzi, the culprit for the most recent bit of chatter he'd heard relayed to him by Wilmer that afternoon.

"—I was talking to a pana of mine who was assigned to the FBI office. Agent Bozzi was bragging about having chatted Miss Celina up recently, and how he couldn't wait to see how she'd look for that gala. Mentioned how at the last mingling event, she'd shown up in a sexy dress—"

Javier had done everything to keep his temper from flaring and his expression from betraying how incensed it made him, hearing about the man so flagrantly moon over you.

Steve had signaled for Wilmer to exnay any more detail from where he stood behind Javi, but ended up feigning aloofness when his co-SAC glanced quickly back to catch him, so while Steve patted Javi innocently in farewell, he remarked, "—Anyway, let me know how the cabinet meeting goes tomorrow. I'll be at the federal building for the rest of the week."

Huffing out through his nose, Javier drove his preferred shortcut from the highway to your condo building while idly wondering if that asshole Bozzi would be at the same cabinet meeting he and other agency heads would attend at the Fortaleza the next morning.

Forcing himself not to stew further about it, he pulls onto your street and cruises up to the gated driveway, lowers his window to punch in the security code, and proceeds to drive down to the guest parking spot. As he parks, he notices your car is in the designated spot you use, so he takes a deep inhale before letting the breath out – wanting to shed any of his surly temper before exiting his car and heading up to your floor.

After having decided to sneak out of work once you'd finally gotten through the progress reports, you'd gotten home to your place, stripped out of your chic pantsuit and pulled on a comfy house dress, and decided you were in the mood to decompress from the day. Fixing to start dinner early so you could spend the rest of the early evening relaxing and waiting up for Javi, you'd opened the balcony slider so the cool northern breeze could filter into the main living space while you cook.

You'd just finished with pressing the head of garlic on the cutting board when you hear the key slip into the lock just before the front door opens.

Javi comes in and seems surprised to see you already in the kitchen. You're in a slinky, pale pink house dress with a wide collar, and your hair is pulled up in a cute bun with a few whisps framing your face. A nice breeze fills the space and helps carry the scent of the garlic over to his nose, and the whimsy of coming home to something so comforting and familiar flutters in his gut.

With a soft smile, you can't help internally fawn at how adorable he looks in his slightly rumpled suit, big brown-eyed gape softening his features in that irresistible way that makes you gleeful.

"Hey, guapito," you greet in a flirty lilt as you start to remove the cloves of garlic from the head. "You're home early."

Feeling that funny tickle in the back of his breastbone radiate warmth through him, Javi closes the door and locks it behind himself before placing his keys on the side console and quickly heading around the kitchen counter to kiss you hello. His lips covetously press to yours, carried away by how wonderful it is to have you as his respite after the day he's had.

Looping his arms around your waist from behind, Javi's canela-smooth hum makes you smile as he drawls, "So are you." He peers over your shoulder while you continue to dutifully prep the garlic. "What, no more leftovers from the BBQ?" is his goofy deadpan as he affectionately nudges his temple against the side of your head.

"Nope. I had the last of it for lunch. So, I'm making a creamy garlic tortellini alfredo with chicken," you tell him and cheekily ignore how he presses up against you and hums for you to turn towards him for more kisses. "I was going to make a salad too—"

"I'd definitely go for tossing your salad," Javi mumbles brazenly as if to himself while kissing on the back of your neck.

"What was that, chulo?" is your feigned aloof query, continuing to not give into his foreplay.

"You don't have to bother fixing a salad," he answers with boldface charm, resting his chin on your shoulder to instigate you into giving him your full attention. "It looks like it's gonna rain," is his casual observation as he caresses your waist and nuzzles your neck, savoring how your soft, perfumed scent makes desire sear up in his gut. With a raspy hum, he croons, "You can smell it in the breeze coming through the balcony."

"Hmm, I still can't believe we left the balcony door completely open the other night," you snicker as you peel the last clove, deliberately leaning back into his frame and rubbing your tush against his crotch. "We're lucky there wasn't an overnight storm, or that birds and lizards didn't mosey on in—"

His hands possessively grip your hips to still your teasing as he scathes sarcastically, "It was you riling me up that caused that slipup, chingona. Just like you're trying to do right now."

Feeling heat zing excitement into your core, you hum a dubious sound before chiming, "I have no idea what you mean." At his unconvinced grunt and puckish nuzzle, you simper, "Go make yourself comfy. Just getting started on the prep for dinner—"

"Dame un beso, gatita coqueta, and I'll go," he purrs bossily in your ear, which makes goosebumps rise on your skin and that titillated ache simmer down into your tingling center.

Flirtatiously snickering, you turn your head up to meet his full, pouty lips with your own.

His tongue sweeps into your mouth, twirling possessively with yours as he deepens the kiss and pulls a sexy sound from you.

Before the kiss becomes too passionate, Javi pulls back and leaves you leaning up for more before impishly pinching your waist and backpedaling to the hall whilst he rumbles, "As you were, miss."

Scoffing sassily, you scrunch your face up mockingly at him and shoo, "Go, atrevido."

Chuckling, he heads down to your bedroom to shed his blazer, belt and shoes. As he does so, he calls out, "I take it work was decent today, since you were able to leave early?" and goes to place his watch on the dresser before emptying out his pockets.

"Yeah. I spent most of the day reviewing progress reports and planning for my upcoming trip for the conference I told you about. The one in St. Thomas?" you reply as you chop the garlic before remembering to preheat the pot of water you have on the stove for the tortellini.

"I remember. That's a few weeks from now, right?" Javi calls out while he loosens the knot of his necktie and stares at your jewelry box, suddenly getting an idea.

As he leaves the tie hanging loose around his collar in order to stealthily lift the lid of the prettily decorated box, he glances to the doorway to make sure you're not coming in to catch him as you answer from the kitchen, "In a few weeks, yeah. I'm hoping to just be gone for a couple of days. Devon was helping me coordinate it all."

While you're answering, Javier is carefully sorting through the jewelry in the box, hoping to find inspiration for the kind and style of ring you like. He quickly realizes you don't seem to favor wearing rings, since he's only able to find an oval-stoned mood ring, and a silver Claddagh ring. He was staring at the latter, admiring the heart held between two hands, wondering what the significance of the crown on the heart was when the house phone started ringing in the living room.

"Want me to get that?" Javi asks as he rushes to replace everything in the jewelry box as it was.

Wiping your hands clean with a kitchen towel, you hurry around the counter to grab the phone from its charger on the console. "No, I'll get it," is your retort just before you press the button and answer, "Hello?"

"Hello, tesoro. I was expecting to leave yet another message on your answering machine," the deep bassy pitch of your father's voice greets you, and you have to stifle your eye roll as he asks, "How have you been? Did you get my last message?"

"Yes, I did. Sorry, it's been hectic lately. I've been all right. Today is the first time in a while I was able to get out of work before 5pm," you reply neutrally before asking, "How're things with you? Are you still in D.C.?"

As you listen to your father's answer, you turn at the sound of the water reaching boil, so you rush back to the kitchen and multitask. Javier pads barefoot down from the bedroom then, and you play up giving him a silly purse of your lips at seeing his now rolled up shirtsleeves and the ends of his red and gold tie swinging as he lopes by and gestures to the sideboard while mouthing, 'Want something to drink?'

Cupping your palm over the phone's microphone, you whisper, "Can we have wine?"

"Coming right up," Javier murmurs back, and the dashing smirk he sends your way before opening the cabinet to peruse the wine options is just infinitely sexy to you.

So much so, you're distracted when your father presses, "—Are you still there?"

"Y-Yes, sorry! I was distracted by something I have boiling on the stove. I'm glad all the meetings have gone well! Did they say when you would get an answer?"

"It depends on a few things. But I would imagine they'll make the decision by the Fall. Anyway, I won't keep you. Just wanted to check in," your father replies in his smooth, earnest tone. "Have you given any more thought to what we talked about last time?"

You pause in pouring the tortellini in the pot to answer, "I have. We can plan something when you get back. Does that work?"

"It does. I'm—I'm glad, tesoro. Thank you," he remarks in a tone that sounds oddly close to eager anticipation. Which, coming from your father? Takes you by surprise. "Look forward to spending more time together, mija. Love you."

"Love you too, Pá. Cuídate. Bye."

Once your father has said goodbye, you end the call and set the wireless receiver aside on the counter, just as Javi walks into the kitchen with the bottle of red wine he picked and places it down in order to retrieve the corkscrew from its drawer. He's covertly glancing at you from the corner of his eye as you swiftly dump the tortellini into the boiling water and resume the rest of the prep for the pan you're heating for the seasoned chicken breast.

"Everything good?" he asks, busying himself with opening the bottle of wine.

"Yeah," is your simple retort, engrossing yourself in tending to the chicken you're placing in the simmering hot pan.

As the fragrant aromas from the sizzling pan begin to fill the kitchen, Javi finds himself recalling how carefree and vivacious you'd been when talking to his father on the phone Sunday evening, so now seeing how guarded you were talking to your own father has him feeling disappointed that you were still feeling protective. That your defenses were up still in regards to anything involving the ominously intimidating man.

"I'm starting the sauce now. I have to stir it for a bit, so want to have a glass of wine while you wait?" you ask him, pulling him out of his thoughts just as he manages to pop the cork out of the bottle.

"Hmm, are you trying to get me nice and sauced up before dinner, preciosa?" is his playful croon as he retrieves a sturdy-yet-elegant stemmed glass and fills it with a healthy pour of wine before offering it to you.

It does the trick. You laugh and smile in that dazzling way that makes your eyes crest with mirth.

Taking the wine glass, you have a quick sip before licking your lips and purring, "Maybe?" then hand the glass back to him.

Chuckling, he takes a sip before sidling up to the opposite counter from the stove to ask, "Need any help? I can be your cooking assistant."

"Actually, yes! Can you get the milk and parmesan from the fridge?" you affably chime as you stir the tortellini in the pot.

Javi does so, and soon you're both working on the sauce together while you tell him the story of how you know so many Italian recipes.

"—Didn't have school, so to keep me occupied during the day, my mom let me help the nice lady we lived next to pick herbs or veggies from her garden in the courtyard. She showed me how to make pasta from scratch, and let me be her little sous chef. It was also a way for me to practice speaking Italian and for her to learn more English," you're remarking as you slowly mix in the tortellini with the sauce and chicken while Javi holds the tipped pot for you. "She taught me how to make the lasagna recipe too."

"You were making that at 8 years-old?" Javi balks as he sets the pot aside and marvels at you while you nod and sprinkle in some more herb seasoning whilst you stir everything together.

"Cooking was always fun, even when I was little. I liked it. Made me feel useful," you muse unguardedly before raising the stirring spoon to have a taste. "Mmm, here. Try it."

He lets you present the wooden spoon to his lips, and you watch as he sinfully eyes you with a molten look whilst he purses his lips to slurp the sample before flicking his tongue to lick the spoon suggestively.

You laugh and scathe, "Fucking fresco," before teasingly smearing the little bit of alfredo sauce left on the side of the spoon over his mustache so you can quickly lean up and lick it off.

It's so silly and sexy that Javi sputters a goofy grunt while the infectious smile that warms his handsome features unearths the boyish dimple in his cheek, which makes you girlishly fawn as you playfully shove him away from the stove and tease, "Bad sous chef! Quit seducing me—"

"Mira quien habla," he scoffs ruggedly and stands his ground to your impish nudges in order to take a sip from the wine glass before offering it to you as he asks, goadingly, "How much longer, jefa?"

Smiling around your sip, you swallow before musing, "Hmm, well it needs to rest for a bit, so let's cover the pan and give it a few, dulzón."

Snorting at that, Javi dutifully puts the lid on the pan and leads you by the hand out of the kitchen to the sofa, where you both sit.

Passing the wine back to him, you sidle up close and ask, "So, how was your day? I didn't expect you home until later."

Taking a deeper swallow than he'd intended, Javi grunts dryly before shifting in his seat to hand you the glass and stretch his arm out along the back of the couch cushion. "It was aggravating. Things feel like they're teetering close to the edge of going to shit, and I can't really place why the longer we work things, the less intel we actually have," is his venting remark, sounding more dispassionate than furious. At least until he absently scrubs his fingers broodingly along his chin as he grumbles, "And the inter-agency bullshit is grinding my patience to the bone."

Aside from the co-op being in limbo, Javier and Steve had daily briefings with the field agents on progress of leads, C.I.s, etc. Today's had addressed the frustrating lack of progress on tying financials to actionable targets, which meant he was going into the meeting the next morning with nothing fruitful to report. He hated it.

You can sense something else is bothering him, though, so you gently nudge your shoulder into him as you ask, "Anyone in particular that's tap-dancing on your last nerve?"

Huffing sourly out through his nose before he can help himself, Javi decides he doesn't want to downplay or obfuscate. "Yeah. That puto cabrón Bozzi. He's been impossible to get ahold of and is keeping a joint operation in limbo. And I can't help thinking it's deliberately just to piss me off. I got that meeting at La Fortaleza early in the morning, and I don't have much of anything to report since he keeps stonewalling DEA. Which, makes us look out of our depth," is his gruff explanation, dark chocolate eyes flaring as he glances sidelong at you while muttering, "And he's still talkin' shit about making moves on you."

Sitting up to fold your legs under you while you shift to look at him sassily, you redirect, "Funny, I heard that he's not the only one gossiping. Did you know speculation about our relationship is the topic of discussion through the federal building?"

Brow quirking intriguingly at that, Javi rumbles, "What have you heard? And who told you?"

Shrugging, you reply, "Devon, and he said it's mostly people chismeando on whether or not we're together. He said some are saying that you only accepted the DEA position here in order to rekindle things—"

"Which, is accurate," he interjects with a suave smirk that makes you chortle and give him an affectionate nudge. "What? I told you so."

"Yeah, well, while that's accurate, it's still not something I was really aware of until today – the gossip, I mean," you retort and take another sip from the glass before offering it to him. "So? What have you heard? And what is that sangano Bozzi saying now?"

Setting the wine glass aside on the end table moodily, Javi grumbles, "That he's chatted you up and is looking forward to mooning over you at the gala."

You internally roll your eyes, but seeing Javier scowl has you deciding you need to get him unwound. So, you curl into his side and glide your hand to caress the back of his neck, while the other hand coaxes him to look at you before you skim it down his jaw, to his sternum before slowly descending lower. Breath catching in his chest, Javi's eyes get heavy with want as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Sadly for him, all he'll manage is ending up watching you and I being together. How I'll be slinking up against you for kisses while we dance. The way your hands hold me while I run mine over you."

As you purr the sultry suggestions, your hand glides down to his waistband before lightly brushing along the seam of his fly before pausing.

"And, he'll have to stew, knowing I'm all yours, while watching us enjoy the night together, without giving him a single thought," is your smoky murmur as you finally cup him through his slacks.

With a groan, Javi nuzzles your neck and reacts to your touch by growling, "Oh fuck."

"Wanna hear the best part, galán?" you coax sensually as you fondle his rock-hard arousal through his clothes. Nodding vigorously, Javi grunts for you to continue, so you do. "The best part, is that he'll end up watching you take me home, and be left knowing that he never had a shot. And, that I'll be all yours when you get me naked and let me have you in all the salacious ways I want," is your scintillating whisper before you suckle on the erogenous spot on his neck before adding, "Like riding your cock as hard as I can—"

His hoarse whine makes your pussy clench. "Jesus fucking Christ, baby—"

It's then that you suddenly stop teasing him and swiftly scamper off of the sofa to prance towards the kitchen as you singsong, "Anyway! Enough about that. You ready to eat?"

The look on Javi's face is something you wish you could have a photo snapped of so you can enjoy it forever. It's a mixture of shock and awe, with a lot of surly hunger radiating from his smoldering stare as he incredulously eyes you as if your daring stunt was utter betrayal.

"…Get back over here, atrevida," is his rapacious, husky-pitched order, punctuated by him crooking his finger sternly for you to come back at once, or else.

It's just too good not to instigate him further.

"Oh? You're not hungry yet?" is your innocent chime, rocking on the balls of your heels as you fold your arms behind yourself, feigning naiveness. "If you wanna just lay back and unwind some more before dinner—"

"You wicked little tease. Get your naughty ass over here, right now, or you're gonna be in trouble," is his gravelly growl, brows quirking with the promise he's trying to relay while hiding his smirk behind the hand he scrubs across his upper lip.

"Hmmm? I don't know what you mean—" you trail off when Javi gets up from the couch and prowls around it like it's taking all his control not to just break out in a sprint to snatch you up in his arms and take you wherever he catches you.

Puckishly, he drawls, "Yeah, you do. And you're looking for trouble—"

Oh? Am I?" is your daring counter as you take a spritely step backwards further down the hall.

That wicked thrill begins to zing through him at your coquettish audacity, so he gravels in his silk baritone, "Damn right, and you know it. So, why don't you behave and come over here—"

Squinting your eyes challengingly, you take a step backwards before confidently turning on your heel to strut down towards your bedroom, announcing, "Nah. I'd like to see what kind of trouble you have in mind, tough guy."

Javi feels the exhilarated pulse of excitement shoot through him, so he follows and gains on you just as you've made it towards your dresser.

You glance at him in the reflection of the mirror as you let your hair down and shake it loose, and the instigating glint in your eye is pure mischief as he prowls over in order to press up behind you, boxing you in.

The deviant little quiver that curls heated arousal in your tummy before cloying into your core from how he keeps his eyes on yours in the reflection, coupled with the unpleased exhale he lets loose as he leans forward to whisper in your ear, has your breath stuttering.

"For starters? You're going to get naked, and walk your wicked ass to the bed and bend across it," he orders in a gruff murmur, the heat in his dark eyes matched by the feeling that sizzles through you when he moves his hands to grip your hips. "And if you backtalk me, I'm not going to fill your mouth or your pussy with anything. No matter how needy for it you are."

You shiver and bite your bottom lip when he latches his mouth to your pulse point on your neck and suckles possessively. His hands begin to rove your body, molding you to him as he greedily palms one breast while the other works teasingly down to slip up your dress. Trembling, you whimper softly and begin to glide your touch backwards to cling to him. But just when you melt into him, Javi pulls away and steps back, brawny hold receding and making you waver before turning on your heels to track him.

The lustful haze clears enough from your brain for you to realize he's going to withhold touch if you don't comply with his orders.

He enjoys how your eyes flicker with fiery outrage for the few seconds before you register it. That he's instigating you. His smirk threatens to peak the corners of his mouth and quirk his moustache with impish delight. It shouldn't turn you on so much. But it does, enough to make you unselfconscious about how hastily you pull your house dress off before unhooking your bra, shedding it swiftly, and tugging your panties off. And you're so wet with anticipation that you don't even blush when you obediently trot down to fold over the bed.

Javi is pleased, and shows it when he walks around to stand over you before looking back at your reflections in the dresser's mirror to lock eyes with you. Instead of undressing, he holds your avid stare as he caresses his hands up the backs of your thighs, fondling the swell of your ass to knead up its globes before humming and bending forward to plant a kiss to the small of your back. You make an impatient little sound, as if you're too worked up and needy for him. So, Javi shifts up and buffets his hand across your ass.

"Ah!" you gasp out and writhe, pussy throbbing hard from the spank and stealing your breath.

"Are you gonna behave, malvadita?" he husks ruggedly.

"Yes, mi amor," you airily affirm.

"Good girl. Now, stretch your arms above your head for me."

You slide your arms up without thinking about it – too wound up with desire to want to defy him, and you're rewarded with him pressing his hips into you while he gathers your wrists and holds them clasped together. The feeling of his silky tie caressing along your back before it swiftly is wound around your wrists makes you shiver against him.

"Tell me if this is too tight," he rumbles above your ear before finishing the fastening and giving it a tug.

You flex your wrists and feel how snuggly bound they are. "N-No. Not too tight—"

Javier working his ravenous mouth down the curve of your shoulderblade in a lazy path down your back has your voice cracking and a titillated mewl escaping your lips.

"Good," is his roughened croon before resuming his mouth's descent. He suckles kisses down the curve of your right buttock while he rushes to undress. His breath being ragged against your skin the only tell for how desperate he is to have his way with you.

Finally shedding his clothes, Javi ruts his cock along the cleft of your ass before thwacking it lewdly against the plump expanse of your left buttock. You stifle your moan into the bed, bound hands gripping the quilt as you involuntarily buck your ass up in hopes for more friction where you're pulsing for it. His warm skin skims across your back around to your front when he rolls you under him before getting between your thighs. He picks you up, and you loop your bound wrists over his head so you can cling to him as he balances you over his lap.

His cock ruts against your dripping folds, spreading them open as he stares into your flushed, titillated features. After leaning in to graze possessive kisses along your jaw, Javi husks in a velvet over steel purr into your ear, "For being my good girl, I'm going to fuck you until you come three times."

Javi is ever the man of his word.

He gives you the first time while pounding up into you as he holds you at your waist and plunges you onto him. When he tosses you onto the bed before flipping you onto your knees and drilling into your molten sheath from behind, you hit the second time while gripping the pillows and rocking back to meet his slamming thrusts.

"Mmph, that was good, preciosa," Javi gravels huskily into your neck, nudging his forehead affectionately against your shoulder before rearing back and spanking your right buttock and admiring how it jiggles while you mewl and tremble in the aftershocks of your climax. "Now, go ahead and get on your back for me."

Quivering with anticipation, you manage the feat of rolling onto your back and staring with needy reverence up at him, with your bound wrists over your head and your breasts perked up to his ravenous mouth as he leans over to kiss and suckle on them while his big hands hike your thighs apart to be held open.

The third time you reach bliss is when he's stroked dead-center into the nested bundle of pleasure deep inside you after fucking you into the bed – one hand holding you steady at the small of your back while the other fists the silky binding of the necktie cuffing your wrists together. It hits with such force that you wail his name and whimper when your sheath contracts hard around his throbbing flesh before you soak it with your climax.

He wants to keep his control from slipping, but at how you desperately try to clutch your fingers to his hand when you arch up and cry in ecstasy propels him over the edge, snapping his pleasure loose from the knot in his center and making him moan as his cock swells inside you before his release fills you with his hot seed.

You feeling deliriously complete when the bloom of his climax diffuses warmth through your sinew has you sighing a sweet, albeit exhausted little sound as Javi lies on top of you in a spent heap before mustering the effort to roll off and lie next to you on the bed.

The mind-blowing orgasm has you both buzzing – breathing hard and cooling down as you lie in post-coital bliss.

"Holy fuck," he exhales with raspy delight, smile crooked as he lulls his head over to look at you. Your sweaty and flushed features have a content glow as you lie in post-coital repose with your eyes closed. Your lashes are glossy, and your hair is a mess now, so he sidles close and gently brushes the strands that had clung to your dewy skin away from your face before rumbling, "Mírame, hermosa."

Lazily batting your lashes, your eyes muster a heavy-lidded peer before you try to rub your hand over them and remember your wrists are still tied together. Javi snickers and sits up enough to be able to quickly undo the necktie, unweaving the silky material in a swift unraveling motion that frees you before tossing it to the side and guiding your hands to loop around his neck so he could lean in and capture your lips in a sultry, loving kiss. He only breaks it in order to caress your cheek and catalogue your expression.

"Was that ok?"

His soft mumble makes you grin and cling to him affectionately. "That was really hot, babe. I'm still shaking," is your frank praise, eyes twinkling at him when you rub your nose against his, earning a relieved little snicker from him. "I very much enjoyed your kind of trouble, sir," you lilt saucily, and at his cocky hum, you add brightly, "Especially your bossy way about it."

The warm, raspy quality of his laugh makes you melt as he playfully rolls onto his back and takes you with him. Smugly, he starts to drawl, "Hmm, shit. I just remembered – whatever happened with all those toys? They would've come in useful—"

You playfully pinching his side makes him grunt humorously. "They're in a box up on the closet shelf, beyaquito," is your sassy simpering retort, sitting up to lounge against him while running your fingers through the damp curls clinging to his sweaty forehead as you add matter-of-factly, "I'd almost put the feather and vibrating cock ring into the box with your stuff I'd packed up and sent to Laredo," at Javi's brows shooting up comically, you chuckle, "But thought better of it."

"Jesus Christ. That would've made for a mortifying chat with Pops," Javi grimaces goofily while squeezing you in his arms mischievously, earning peels of laughter to giggle up from you.

A nice relaxing shower together later, you're spiritedly ribbing him about the topic from earlier – before you'd instigated his surly dominance game, as you exit the stall and grab a towel before tossing it to him.

"—C'mon. You can't blame me for being pissed about that," he grumbles sarcastically as he quickly runs the towel over himself, and wraps the fluffy material around his waist.

"You getting all grumpy over that cocky jerk like I would ever give him the time of day is just silly, Javi," is your rebuttal as you finish towel drying your hair before tucking it around yourself to tiptoe over to him when he rolls his eyes and slicks his wet curls back from his forehead. "Hey, guapito, don't get grouchy. You know I'm right," you tut in a flirty-yet-bossy drawl at him as you caress his stubble-darkened jaw and bat your lashes.

He huffs contrarily out through his nose, but his stubborn scowl relents when you hum in a goofy way that communicates, 'I'm right and you better recognize it!'

The sudden sound of rain starting to pitter patter outside before quickly becoming a deluge begins to filter through the apartment as an early evening storm cloud rolls in.

"Told you it looked like rain," Javi remarks before realizing, "Damn, the slider door!"

He quickly sidesteps around you and rushes to dutifully shut the balcony door that got left open.

"Javi, don't worry about it," you turn the corner to watch him hustle down the hall with a tight grip on the towel knotted at his hip, his pace mindful of the tile so he doesn't slip and bust his ass by accident. The way he's striding with a waddle reminds you of the way a little duckling would run at full speed. It makes you giggle and follow him so you can stand at the end of the hall and watch him pull the sliding glass door shut before locking it and yanking the vertical blinds back into place.

Seeing the muscles in his smooth, broad, tan back work with his movements beguiles you into staring. Into admiring his warm skin and lean sinew front-lit momentarily by the swaying blinds letting the waning sunset seep through. You can't help pining, What a gorgeous hunk.

"Hey, stud muffin," you call out to him, and when he turns, you wink at him and charm, "Dinner in bed?"

More than fine with that, Javi smirks and walks over to join you in the kitchen. "Sounds good to me, bravita."

A short while later, you and Javier sit up together in bed, eating dinner together. He's in a loose pair of blue boxers while you're in a champagne-toned silk nighty. The stormy breeze coming through the windows keep the room cool as you eat and chat.

"—Ok, I have to admit. I kind of got spoiled at your place. Got way too used to eating and watching TV in bed," you chime amusedly, sipping some wine before passing the glass to him.

He takes a big gulp before setting it aside, grunting in agreement with you. "Yeah, me too," is his retort, licking his lips before he wonders out loud, "Maybe I can get one of those little television sets, and it can go on the side of the dresser?"

You smile around your current bite. Once you've swallowed, you remark, "You don't have to, babe—"

"Or, maybe we can get a place together," he smoothly suggests before finishing the last helping of food on his plate. At you blinking surprisedly at him, he shrugs nonchalantly before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand to elaborate, "I mean, your place is far from work, and mine is close to it, but doesn't have much around it like you do here. Maybe we can find something that meets in the middle?"

Your heart does a summersault in your chest as you absorb that. "Your place isn't bad. Sure, it's a bit of a bachelor pad, but the gated neighborhood is nice and quiet," you find yourself remarking as you balance your plate of food on your folded lap before realizing that posture makes your lower back ache, so you shift to set the plate aside on the nightstand so you can lounge sidelong as you remark, "But I extended the lease here a couple of months ago, so I'm not sure about breaking it and moving—"

Javi sets his plate aside on the foot of the bed and stretches out to sidle close to you in order to caress his warm palm calmingly along your hip and thigh as he assures, "I didn't mean right now, querida. Just that maybe we could start looking. I like shacking up with you here, so I'm in no rush."

Snickering, you squeeze his forearm affectionately. "You do?"

"Yeah. It's like we're in our own world when we're here," is his charming purr as he leans over to kiss your shoulder before murmuring, "It's not nearly as far as your old place in Bogotá, and we're close to Old San Juan and the beach…and plenty of spots to go explore and get lost in, in between."

Feeling a tickle behind your breastbone, you let him loop his arm around your waist to tug you closer so he can reach your lips, and when you pivot your position, you end up wincing from the ache in your lower back. You bite back on it during the kiss, but Javi caught it and shifts back.

"Sorry. I think I tweaked something from romping around earlier," is your self-deprecating huff as you lie on your tummy and nuzzle his bicep.

Smirking, he sits up in order to move over so he can pat the center of the bed as he orders, "Alright, lay here and I'll give you a rub down, señorita."

Laughing, you try insisting, "You don't have to—"

"Well, I want to, now c'mon, traviesa," he counters in that canela-purr of his and pats the center of the bed with emphasis as he bounces his brows and purses his lips for you to go on.

Relenting, you shimmy over and lie on your stomach, smiling when he straddles your thighs and starts massaging his hands from the base of your spine upwards.

As you start to feel the ache ease up in your lower back, you sigh out dreamily, "Mmm, that feels nice. Thank you."

You feel his full lips press softly at your nape before he mumbles, "You're welcome. Gotta keep my good girl limber, after all."

You scoff amusedly at that before reaching your hand backwards to swat his side lightheartedly. "Oh yeah? Well if that's the case, burlón, I'll just have to take back up going to yoga classes. As a matter of fact, I'll just go to the 6:30 class tomorrow night," you heckle humorously as you roll over under him and goadingly pat your hands over his thighs. At his instigating grunt after he rests his palms over yours to stop them from sliding up further to tease him, you chime, "Wanna come with?"

Snorting, Javier deadpans, "Me, doing yoga? I'm already limber enough—"

"Oh, if you're too macho to do it, then never mind," you taunt melodiously, adding, "I guess I'll just stretch out in my leggings and halter top by myself…"

Smirking ruefully, Javi relents, "Hmph. Fine, I'll go, but I'm going to be way behind the rest of the class—"

"Actually, the night classes tend to be more intro/beginner-level friendly," you interject and squeeze his thighs cheekily. "You don't have to go if you really don't want to, chulito—"

"Oh no, you're not talking me out of it now. I wanna go, and I wanna see all the positions you can do, and what positions we can use in bed after," he tells you debonairly before winking at you smugly.

Humming approvingly, you blithely singsong, "That sounds like a wonderful plan, sir."

Chuckling, he leans down and starts showering you with merciless, mustachioed kisses along your neck and jaw, earning your effervescent laugh that trails off into the discordant little sigh he adores.

The next morning, you stir awake at the sound of Javi getting dressed, and roll over to watch him put on a blue jacquard-patterned tie before be grabs the slate-gray blazer from the chair and shrugs into it. When you shift up in bed and rub your eyes, Javi turns and frowns. "Shit, I didn't mean to wake you," is his mutter as he walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. "It's still early. Go back to sleep, cariño—"

You shake your head and shuffle closer to kiss his cheek. "I will, after you give me a hug and promise not to bail on yoga tonight," is your soft mumble as you smile sleepily at him.

Grunting humorously, he nods and wraps his arms around you. With a kiss to your temple, he declares, "I'm not bailing. Meet up here and go together? I should be home by 6pm."

"That works. I'll be home from shopping with the girls by then, and we can go," you answer sweetly and peck him on the lips. "Good luck on the meeting."

"Thanks. Now," Javi remarks as he guides you to lie back and tucks you in before kissing you on the forehead. "Get a few more winks. I'll see you later."

"Love you," you sigh softly as you hold onto his hand.

Giving it a loving squeeze before brushing your hair back behind your ear, he murmurs, "I love you too."

You smile and close your eyes, beyond relaxed. So much so, you barely hear him get his shoes on and head out to the living room, where he pockets his things before exiting the front door and locking up behind himself.

Twenty minutes later, Javier is driving into Old San Juan, navigating through the circuitous traffic in the tightly-lined streets of the islet to get to the security gate of the Governor's mansion. Once he's parked, he clips on his identification badge and exists his car to meet up with the aide that receives him and leads him up to the cabinet meeting. On the way, he trades polite conversation with the young man as they traverse the grounds and enter the main edifice where the government meetings occur. After leading the way to the wing with the conference room today's meeting would be taking place, the aide excuses himself and leaves Javi, who checks his watch while already reaching into his pocket for his packet of nicotine gum.

"You're early, Jav."

He turns and spots Tom Vernon, head of ATF, as he leans against the nearest column and sips from a small paper coffee cup.

"Mornin' to you too, Tom," is his neutral reply as he pops a gum out of the tray and tosses it into his mouth, giving it a few chews before asking, "Where'd you get the coffee?"

"Oh, friendly little lady came by with a coffee cart earlier. Good stuff," the man in the brown suit and mismatched yellow tie replies before taking another sip.

Grunting, Javi crosses his arms over his chest to keep his right hand from ticking impatiently due to his mounting anxiety about the meeting. "Speaking of friendly. You're buddies with Bozzi, right?" When Vernon shrugs noncommittally, Javi presses, "Happen to know if he's going to show up for the meeting today? I need to talk to him."

"You never know with Tony. What you gotta talk to him about?" is Vernon's aloof query.

Trying not to scowl, Javi ticks his jaw askew to toy the gum to his opposite cheek before resuming chewing. "A joint op. My ASAC got word from Bozzi's guy that he denied a coordinated operation request. I haven't been able to get ahold of him all week," Javi lays his proverbial cards out on the table with the seasoned ATF agent, eyeing him guilelessly as he adds, "Kind of starting to think he's deliberately pushing my buttons."

That gets Vernon's aloof expression to perk up with interest. "Well, I can't say I know his motives on that, but he definitely has the most leeway down here among all us agency heads. The locals don't like to fuck with the FBI," is Tom's observant remark, lowering his voice when he cusses and giving a cursory glance about before adding, "Tony has a few irons in the fire, from what I've heard, so I'd just assume he's prioritizing those operations and his job over anything you DEA fellas are looking to execute."

Unconvinced, Javier puts his hands on his hips and stares at Tom like he knows a bullshitter when he sees one. "I have it on a reliable source that his job isn't the only thing he's prioritizing these days," he remarks persuasively, communicating the unspoken part with his narrowed gaze.

Squinting knowingly, Vernon mutters irreverently, "I'm not one to get between two circling bulls, so I'll just say: He has been working that prospect since before you showed up."

His shoulders square up at the veiled reference. "Most know by now that prospect was in my purview from before. Hell, I heard you even told him said prospect was already spoken for," is his leading comment, placing his hands in the pockets of his slacks as he raises a brow questioningly at the other man.

Cracking a lopsided smirk, Tom concedes, "I sure did. He's a hard-headed fella, so it didn't dissuade him one bit, but you might need to let it play out to its own natural conclusion, Jav. I bet it'll work itself out—"

The nearby conference room door opens, interrupting Vernon. A female aide smiles brightly before holding the door open and greeting, "Good morning, gentlemen. Please, come in and find a seat. We'll be starting the meeting soon."

Exchanging a look, the two agents return the greeting and lope over to enter the room.

Checking his watch before he dumps his spent gum into a nearby wastebasket, Javi sees there's only a few minutes remain until the start of the meeting. Aides and their officials start to file in, so he goes around the room to shake hands and look professional and have face time with key cabinet members. After exchanging greetings with some of the local government officials, he ends up taking a seat across from the ATF agent, who is shaking hands with a cabinet member just as a younger agent with an FBI-labeled ID badge clipped to his suit breast pocket enters. Once officials begin to file in, he is aggravated when the governor enters with his aides, and the Special Agent in Charge of the FBI still hasn't arrived. Fucker isn't going to show.

Sure enough, when the meeting progresses to the stage where each federal government agency head is supposed to take turns giving a progress report, the representative for the FBI update ends up being dictated by the Assistant Special Agent in Charge, who apologized for his superior's absence.

Javier's annoyance helped sharpen his confident resolve when it came time for him to give the DEA progress report. But by the end of the meeting, he's was stewing. So much so, he makes a beeline to the FBI rep the minute the governor exited.

"Castellano, is it? Javier Peña," is his battering ram of a greeting, forcefully shaking the other man's hand and not giving him a chance to even return the gesture by barreling on with, "Segarra told me your boss denied the joint operation request. I've had a hell of a time trying to get ahold of him for a rationale, so since he ain't here, can you give me one?"

The other man has a lot more steel to him than his ASAC, unfortunately, so he keeps his cool and explains, "Agent Peña, my boss has been overseeing an operation I cannot disclose at the moment, but I assure you, I will brief him on your follow-up regarding the co-op request. Have a nice day."

Clenching his jaw, Javi absently scrubs his palm down his face before turning back to glare at the retreating man's back.

"Valiant effort, Jav," is Tom's amused drawl as he comes up to stand next to him. "That fella is ex-Marine. He ain't going to be mad-dogged easily—"

"You going to the gala tomorrow night, Tom?" Javier cuts in with a dry, acerbic tone as he loosens the knot in his tie and brushes his fingers over his moustache, hand concealing how his nostrils are flaring crossly.

Pressing his lips together musingly, Vernon replies, "Naw. I got a bureau conference back in D.C. I'm flying out for at noon." At Javier's grunt of acknowledgement, he leans close and confides, "I assume you'll be taking that gorgeous prospect of yours, though, so it'll be a shame to miss watching the novela play out. Good luck, Jav."

He pats Javier on the back before loping off and waving over his shoulder at him.

Exhaling gruffly, Javi heads for the exit and stalks to his car, beyond irritated.

While he drives out of the secure compound to traverse the morning rush hour traffic, you're putting on a pot of coffee before arranging items into order on the breakroom counter in your department. The extra sleep time had you feeling refreshed and ready for the full day, looking forward to leaving the office to meet Connie and Anita at the mall to find outfits for tomorrow night's gala.

Having run into your neighbor, Jodalys, in the lobby on the way to your car, you chatted about the gala excitedly, and accepted her invite to get ready together before the event. The prospect of not having to do your own makeup was too good to pass up, and so you coordinated a time and exchanged goodbyes before commuting to the office and getting a jump on the workday.

You'd already gotten through your messages, including your personal email inbox and been pleasantly surprised to see a message from Francesca. Having caught up with your former intern and agreed to write her a letter of reference for grad school, you'd made sure to block out your late afternoon of any meetings.

Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you make mental notes for yourself regarding what you needed to pick up at the mall later, when you hear Olga's heels clicking along as she enters the breakroom.

"Ah, you beat me to it!" she declares, referring to you making a pot of coffee.

"Yeah, I needed the caffeine boost," you quip as you stir the sugar with the skinny little straw while scooting to the side to give her access to the counter. "Oh, did you get around to blocking off the department calendar for tomorrow afternoon? I want everyone who plans to attend the gala to be able to without any late day meetings tripping them up."

"All set! A lot of the other admins throughout the building have been doing that. Everyone's looking forward to it," Olga replies as she pours some cream into her coffee. "It's rare when an event that glitzy is open to clerical and office staff."

"Well, I'm glad they planned it to be inclusive. Should be interesting to see all the different offices and departments mingling," you remark before taking a sip of your coffee.

While she stirs some sugar into hers, Olga's expression perks up as she asks in a hushed tone, "Do you think even the different agents will attend? I mean, from like the federal agencies?"

Intrigued, you quirkily smile and lean your weight into your hip as you ask, "I'm not sure. My guess is it'll depend on their shifts? Usually, field agents alternate being on stand-by, or have to be on call during certain operations. Why?"

You expect this to finally be the moment Olga, who you know to be congenial and a well-meaningly-nosy social butterfly, will ask you about the rumors involving you and Javi.

Instead, she confides, "Ah pues, nothing really…I just was wondering if the handsome agent de la DEA would go. I've not had a social occasion that would make sense to have more than 'hi' and 'bye' with him. And I'm hoping to get a chance to talk more."

Surprised, your brows arch and you whisper interestedly, "Really?! Which agent?"

Getting smiley, Olga busily stirs the little straw in her coffee cup as she answers sincerely, "Nicolás López. Es tan lindo, y buena gente. Su sonrisa me encanta. We've only ever done quick greetings from seeing each other around on the campus. One of the other admins who works in the DEA office told me his name."

Tickled with delight, you gush, "Oh, Nic is a sweetheart. I'm not sure he'll be there, but if he is, I'll introduce you both!"

As she excitedly peppers you with questions about the scrappy-yet-handsome agent, Javier is stalking across the bullpen within the field office, still annoyed from earlier and wondering if he's going to have to personally kick Bozzi's door in after all. As he rounds the corner towards his and Steve's shared office space, Segarra pokes his head out from the doorless room he's made into his office and rushes over to greet him halfway, with a legal pad in hand.

In no mood, Javi doesn't slow down his pace, but does acknowledge the younger man with a curt nod and tries not to project his aggravation when Segarra falls into step beside him. "Good morning, sir. I was just about to call you. I finally heard back from my counterpart at FBI. Our co-op request was approved—"

That has Javi skidding to a halt right inside his office before he swiftly gestures for Segarra to come in and close the door. Once the ambitious man has done so, and Javi's braced himself by leaning into the edge of his desk with his hands propped on either side so he can keep his fingers from fidgeting impatiently, he deadpans, "Castellano confirmed it just now?"

"Yes, sir. He said Agent Bozzi signed off," Segarra replies in his raspy tenor, holding up his legal pad as he dictates the details. "However he insisted on running an op drill with our guys and theirs, and booked the facility in Aguadilla for tomorrow at 1500—"

"What? For 3:00pm tomorrow?" Javi interrupts, crossing his arms and cocking a curious brow. "Why so late in the day?"

"It's the time that works best for Agent Bozzi, sir," Segarra explains as he flips to the next page and lists off more of the coordinated details while Javi scowls and listens.

After confirming a few things with his ASAC, going over other outstanding agency business, and signing off on some reports, Javi grabs his desk phone and dials Steve's line at the Federal building.

"Agent Murphy."

"Guess who magically agreed to the co-opt, and scheduled an op drill for tomorrow afternoon," Javi grouses as he plops down into his desk chair.

Steve grunts wryly. "Sounds like you pushed the right buttons successfully this morning at the meeting, then."

Scoffing as if unconvinced, Javi leans into his chair and mutters, "Segarra is going to pull the guys together and brief them. It's gonna be at a base about an hour away, on the northwest coast."

"So what you're saying is, you're currently free to come to the barbershop during lunch with Rose and me to get haircuts for tomorrow night?" Steve quips.

Running his fingers through his unruly curls along his crown and down the back of his head, Javi glowers as he admits, "Shit, I have been due for a trim. Just haven't had the time."

"Well, Ellis vouched for a place in Hato Rey. Meet us downstairs in 20 minutes?"

"Sure. See you then," Javi agrees before hanging up and glancing at his watch. Deciding you were most likely too busy for him to call and check in, he collects his things and heads down to the parking garage.

By the time he pulls up to the carport in front of the federal building, Steve and Ellis are coming out of the building, so Javi flags them down and gestures for them to just hop into his car. Steve gets into the front passenger seat and Ellis sits behind him in the backseat as they exchange greetings with Javi before snapping their seatbelts on.

"—Take a right outside of the gate," Ellis instructs, playing navigator for a few blocks before Javi is cruising down the busy avenue en route towards the financial district of the metropolitan area. "I know a lot where we can park for free, so take a left at the next boulevard. Anyway, how long were you saying you got the babysitter for tomorrow night?" he pivots back to the idle conversation, directing the question to Steve.

"Only until 10pm. Connie works with the girl's mom at the V.A. and the lady's pretty strict, so she doesn't like her out until late, even on a weekend. So we'll have to head home by 9:30, at the latest," Steve answers while he fiddles with the car radio.

Smacking Steve's hand from continuing to skip the dial across channels, Javi hits the preset button for the radio station he saved after seeing it was your go-to channel in your car. Magic 97.3 is in the middle of playing a Prince single he knows you love, so he smirks as he remarks offhandedly, "Can't you get another sitter? Or bribe the kid to stay late?"

"Remind me not to let my girls babysit for you in the future," Steve razzes dryly to him and glances at Ellis in the reflection of the rearview mirror. "That's the one thing I miss about Miami. Connie's sister lived nearby, and was always great with babysitting them for us. Ah, that reminds me. Did I tell you I'm planning to take Connie away for her birthday weekend?" he asks and taps Javi on the arm with the back of his hand, getting his attention from where he was distractedly looking around for an empty space in the lot Ellis had pointed him to while Steve had been talking. "I'm flying her sister down and surprising her with the trip. She'd only trust family to stay with the kids that long. But keep it secret—"

"Secret even from the wives?" Ellis cuts in, being terrible at keeping secrets and wanting to make sure he knew how secretive he needed to be.

"Careful. Don't wanna give Jav a heart attack here, throwing that around so cavalierly—" Steve begins to jibe.

"You are a relentless pain in the ass, you know that?" Javi derides acerbically as he zooms into the parking spot tucked around the bend before the car across from him could beat him to it. "I told you, I'm working on it—"

"You are going at a molasses pace, bud, is all I'm sayin'. Especially with the other suitors swaggerin' about," Steve heckles, earning an eye roll from Javi and for Ellis to do the male version of perking up his ears for gossip.

Javi catches himself and stows his tempestuous jealousy with a gruff exhale before he could lose his cool. Putting on his favorite sunglasses, he shuts the engine and clarifies, "That's a singular suitor, who is a wannabe suitor, and a stupid prick. Now, you two hillbillies get out of the car."

"If you're going to insult me, at least be correct with your insults. I'm a redneck, not a hillbilly, cabrón," Ellis sarcastically derides as he snaps his seatbelt off and exits the vehicle.

"He's got you there, pendejo," Steve jokes as he opens his door and hops out.

Snorting, Javi follows suit and locks the car before falling into step with the two gringos.

"When are you two gonna learn more than Spanish swear words, pray tell?" he hazes, earning huffy excuses from the two men as they head into the barbershop.

By the end of the workday, you're on the way out of the federal campus to meet the girls at the mall, eager to get what you all need so you can rush home and get ready to go do the class with Javi. Mercifully traffic is cooperative and you're able to find a space close to the main general entry point of the sprawling building with enough time to stride towards the JCPenney entrance. The shopping center was bustling, but not overcrowded, so you're able to stride at a brisk pace, making it through the concourse to the large department store's entry and spotting Connie sitting on a nearby bench and sorting through her purse.

"Hey! Have you been waiting long?" you greet as you lean down to kiss her hello on the cheek.

"Not at all! I got here a few minutes ago. I had cut out a page from the store catalogue this month, and I thought I had put it in my purse, but can't find it," she tells you as she gives up on the search and stands when she spots Anita and waves her over.

"Hi! Sorry I'm late. I couldn't find a parking spot," Anita greets and explains as she exchanges hello hugs and kisses on the cheek with you both.

You spend the next hour scouring the store for elegant cocktail dress options with the girls, helping Anita decide between the burgundy A-line dress and the emerald wrap dress, spotting a dress that resembles the description of the one Connie had seen in the catalogue and proceeding to coax her into getting it even though it was sexier than she'd expected on her.

"—I don't know. Isn't it too low cut in the front?" she frets as she continues to hold it up in front of herself in the nearby mirror while Anita peruses a clothing rack.

"Totally, but it's tasteful, I swear," you tease her, and she snickers and shakes her blonde hair out at your silly tone. "Mine is way riskier – lower cut, and short, but I'm still wearing it, so c'mon, don't leave me as the only one pushing the sexy envelope."

Connie laughs, "Alright, fine. And it is on sale, so—"

"So try it on tonight in front of Steve and see if his eyes bug out or not. If they do, definitely wear it to the gala," Anita quips with impish charm, purse swinging merrily at her side while she holds her dress folded over her forearm as she wiggles her brows cheekily.

After shopping a bit more through the department store, you manage to also find a set of workout clothes for Javier in the Men's section while Anita picks up a pocket square and necktie for Ellis. Once you've all made your purchases at the customer service counter, the girls accompany you to the shoe boutique you like a few minutes later, and help you decide between the chic black pumps and the strappy stilettos. "—I like them both, but these are more for clubbing," you finally decide as you sit back down and remove each from your feet while telling the store clerk that you'd be taking the pumps.

"Oh, are you wearing pantyhose, or stockings?" Anita asks as she admires a pair of gold sandals.

"No, going bare-legged. I hate wearing pantyhose," you retort as you go to the register to pay for the purchase. "Did you guys want to stop by anywhere else before we go?"

"No, I have to rush to the mercado before I head home," Anita replies and collects her shopping bag from the couch.

"Steve's probably getting home now, so I gotta get there before Olivia convinces him to have waffles for dinner again," Connie comically sighs as she shoulders her purse and balances her store bag from one hand to the other while you all chuckle at the idea of little Olivia cajoling her pushover of a dad.

After you all say goodbye in the central promenade of the mall, you part ways in different directions, and you hustle to your car to navigate your way home through the evening traffic.

You're completely unaware that you're being watched as you place your shopping bag in your backseat before getting in on the driver's side.

No, you're so preoccupied with thinking of the gala tomorrow, and how much you're looking forward to having your first very public night out with Javier – where everyone in your professional lives will see for themselves that you both are together and much in love, that you don't sense the stare from afar.

By the time you make it home, you're rushing to get upstairs and get ready for the class, so you don't bother with stopping at your mailbox before heading up to your apartment, and are barely through the door before you toss your things onto the bar top counter and shut the door while reaching to hit the button the answering machine when you see the red light blinking that you had messages.

While the machine begins to recite the date and time of the first message, you run down the hall to your bedroom as you strip your blouse off and work the zipper down on your skirt.

"Good afternoon. This is Dr. Salinas checking in to see how you're feeling, and to see when you'd like to schedule your next physical. Give the office a call if there's anything you'd like to discuss. Thank you, goodbye."

You grunt thoughtfully at that, making a mental note to call the office in the morning, while you chuck your work outfit into the hamper and grab for the yoga leggings and top you set out this morning. The machine dictates the receipt date and time of the next voicemail before the sound of dead air echoes from the living room before the caller hangs up without leaving a message.

Pausing at the dresser quizzically, you feel a sense of déjà vu come over you before continuing to brush your hair up into a neat bun. That's like, the third time someone calls and doesn't leave a voicemail—

The sound of a key being slipped into the front door's lock sounds before it opens and you hear Javi's dress shoed steps enter over the final drone of the answering machine announcing the end of messages.

"I'm home," he calls out before the jangle of his keys clatter on the counter and his footfalls approach the hall.

"Perfect timing!" you exclaim when you glance at the alarm clock and see he was true to his word, smiling as you put on the stretchy headband to keep your hair slick back and out of your face. "I just got home a couple of minutes ago—" you're saying as you turn towards him when he enters the bedroom, before gasping. "Aw, you cut your hair?"

Javi experimentally runs his hand over his trimmed hair, tossing his gym bag to the corner by the chair. His brows are knitting together ambivalently as he frowns and asks, "Yeah, does it look bad?"

Internally swooning, your mind flashes to how he'd looked the first time you saw him back in Bogotá – when he'd returned to be the DEA attaché. How dashing he looked with his trimmed, and suavely-combed hair. His hair now is not much shorter than it'd been then. Truly, he looks deliciously debonair, but his expectant look communicates otherwise, so you stride towards him and loop your hands around his shoulders as you get on your tippy toes to kiss him reassuringly before extolling, "You always look handsome, you dork. I'm just gonna miss playing with your rizos, is all."

Scoffing, he smirks down at you before squeezing you affectionately to him and kissing you cheekily as he grouses with daring, "I got something else you can play with—"

Humorously swatting his rump, you giggle, "Beyako. Naughty talk later. Hurry up and get dressed," and pull him towards the bed where you placed the shopping bag, digging into it and pulling out the soft shirt and comfortable joggers you bought him. "I wasn't sure you'd have anything to wear for yoga, so I got these."

"Thanks, querida," he croons and kisses your cheek before starting to undo his tie and unbutton his collar while he leers appreciatively down at your formfitting workout ensemble. The halter top-styled purple and black sports bra has your cleavage looking delectably snug, while the skin-hugging black yoga leggings made your ass look round and plump – begging to be caressed greedily by his hands. "Mmm, I was envisioning you in a leotard and leg warmers, but this is much hotter."

Snickering as you brush by him to retrieve your sneakers from the closet, you muse flirtatiously, "I figured you'd approve of it since you'd be my yoga buddy. Now, hurry it up, mister."

With a twinkle in his eye, Javi chuckles before he quickly strips and gets ready.

Soon you're driving to the building that houses the workout studios, and lead the way up to the floor where the evening class is scheduled. Storing your gym bags in the cubbies along the sidewall of the studio, you're chatting with Javier about the little rituals most yoga teachers use to start and progress the session while he looks around and catalogues the large room and the other attendees whilst you both remove your sneakers and socks to be placed in the shelves.

"Well, mira quien es!"

Pausing to turn, you're surprised to see Zoraida standing smug and statuesque in her workout outfit and her pink yoga mat rolled up and tucked in her arm.

"Ah! What're you doing here?! You don't normally do the night class—" you remark as you two exchange a hug and kiss on the cheek hello.

"I don't, but I've had day shoots and gigs all week, and this is the only time I could get in a workout before the weekend," she explains before bouncing her brows knowingly at you and gesturing towards Javi with a nod of her head. "And I take it this is your jevo, Javi?"

Feeling a wave of pride fill him, Javier steps forward to greet your friend with a handshake and kiss to the cheek. "Mucho gusto. It's great to finally meet you. I've heard great things—"

"And I've heard lots of things about you," Zoraida cuts in glibly as she sizes Javi up the way a discerning poker player would. "Like how overprotective you are of my dear friend, so what – are you here to take the class too, or just to keep an eye on her—?"

"Zory!" you admonishingly decry, glaring at her for doing her super bad cop routine right now.

Unfazed, Javi reassuringly caresses the small of your back with his palm while returning Zoraida's unflinching stare to answer matter-of-factly, "Celina doesn't need anyone to keep an eye on her, but I'll admit I was looking forward to staring at her and trying to follow along with the class. Although if she does that downward dog pose in front of me, I can't say I wouldn't consider spiriting her away to somewhere private."

You blush girlishly at that and swat his chest with the back of your hand as you hiss, "Javier!"

Zory cracks a smile and relaxes her stance to approvingly gesture as she quips, "Ok, he's passing the trial…for now."

Rolling your eyes as you derisively snicker, you take Javi's hand and lead him over to the back of the room to get a yoga mat, offering a, "You two are incorrigible," over your shoulder as you go, earning a smirk from Javi and for Zoraida to shoot him a conspiratorial wink.

Once the class starts, Javi is able to follow along for the first few poses, and watches you and Zory expertly match in stances with little effort as you stand side by side in front of him. By the time he gets to tree pose, though, he finds himself wobbling to try and not lose his balance and stick out like a sore thumb in the class.

"Here, center your weight and keep your back straight," is the sudden instruction from the vivacious male teacher Javier hadn't noticed work his way around the room towards him before placing his hands on Javier's hips to align his stance. "There, much better! Remember to engage your core to stay centered, everyone."

You peek over your shoulder and bite your lip to stifle the smile seeing Javi in the tree pose looking bashful has threatening to crest your features with mirth. When he catches your glance, he glowers goofily at you and mouths, 'Mala.'

Blowing a kiss at him for calling you 'Bad girl,' you turn and snicker at Zory when she hums, "¿Te tiene suelta como gabete, eh?"

"Zory, cállate," you hiss back, and when she just gives you a mocking look, you whisper, "And yes, he does."

She stifles her simpering laugh and pays attention to the instructor's next directive.

Javier watches you and Zoraida whisper teasingly at each other and smiles, happy to see you enjoying the carefree moment with your friend. So when it finally comes to the downward dog position, he recites the mantra, Don't be a perv. Don't be a perv. Don't stare at her glorious ass too long, while trying to do the pose and not ogle you rapaciously. While he does so, he's too distracted to notice Zoraida covertly watching him from her position, and pleasantly noticing how he doesn't have eyes for anyone else but you, and how obviously eager he is to impress you.

It was then and there that Javier had passed her real test.

"Namasté, everyone."

When the class ends, and you stand from the final pose and bow in respect, you turn and smile at Javi, winking at him when he exhales in relief and wipes the back of his hand along his sweaty brow. You quickly collect your mat and roll it back up to pin it to your side before going to him and asking, "Well? Not too hard, right?"

Thankful that the joggers you bought him were dark and camouflaged his lower half well, Javi kneels to roll up his mat as he answers quippingly, "Nope, not bad at all. As for hard? That's another story."

You gasp and squeeze his shoulder in playful retaliation, hissing kittenishly, "Behave, you."

"I'm trying, bravita," he dramatically mutters and stands, taking your rolled up matt and dutifully returning it with his own to where they're stored before loping back to the cubbies with you.

"After freshening up, you two wanna grab a smoothie downstairs?" Zoraida queries as she retrieves her gym tote and finishes putting her sneakers on.

"Sure. I'll be quick, querida," is Javi's easygoing reply before he kisses your cheek and takes his bag with him to the men's locker room.

You piningly watch him go, and Zory puts her hands on her hips and stares amusedly until you remember yourself and quickly grab your things.

"You got it baaaaad, girl."

"Yes, I do. And I'm not even mad about it anymore, so deja el relajo."

A short while later, the three of you are entering the trendy smoothie shop that's on the ground floor of the building, and since it was busy, Javi suggested grabbing the table he spotted in the back before going up to the counter to order. Having changed into clean clothes, Javi was checking you out – loving how effortlessly gorgeous you looked in the black spandex bike shorts and oversized tie-dye sweatshirt. And he was thankful that he had a clean pair of dark running shorts in his bag.

"Alright, what would you ladies like? My treat," is his charming offer, already rebuffing your attempt to argue by pulling your chair for you and assuring, "Nada de eso. I got it. What smoothie do you want?"

Relenting, you tell him, "The all-berry one. And Zory's favorite is the tropical citrus one."

"Coming right up," he croons and walks over to make the line.

"Nena," Zory whispers to grab your attention, and when you look at her with expectant eyes, she singsongs in Spanish, "That man is fine."

Suppressing a grin, you sass, "I told you."

"Me cae bien, fíjate. And I can see him holding his own with your dad, so hopefully you'll introduce them soon since I get the feeling your jevo wants to make you his wife—" she boasts amusingly, earning your scoff and idle dismissive wave. "I'm serious. Have you considered it?"

"Marriage?!" you whisper aloofly.

"No. Letting him meet your dad. Pero yeah – if you were gonna marry anyone—"

"Shhh!" you shush when she says it a little too loud and you notice Javi glance over from where he waits at the counter now. He winks at you, and you smile, wrinkling your nose goofily at him, and already pining to yank that grey t-shirt off of him. "As a matter of fact, I did agree to a sort of dinner thing with my dad. He suggested it, and mentioned that Javier was invited. I just haven't mentioned it to him yet," you confide, glancing back at her when she hums in surprise. "I mean, you know how it is. I don't want to set expectations until I'm sure it's the right thing – putting him through that hassle."

"Something tells me he wouldn't think it a hassle at all," Zoraida offers sagely as she runs her fingers through her ponytail. "I say, go for it."

You're about to respond in the contrary when Javier walks back to the table with three large smoothie cups he places down, sliding one to Zory and another towards you before sitting next to you.

"Here you go. Let me know if it's right," he remarks as he puts the straw in his own cup and takes a sip, humming in approval.

"What flavor did you get?" you ask before taking a sip of yours.

"The strawberry and banana one," he tells you before stealing a sip from your cup. "Mmm, that's good too."

Laughing, you snicker, "I know, chavón. Let me have a sip of yours."

He slides the cup over to you, and while you sip, he asks Zoraida, "So, is it true that you two used to sneak out to parties when you were teens?"

"Yes. We've known each other the longest of all the girls. We were each other's alibis with our parents. 'I'm sleeping over at Celina's this weekend,' was all I had to say. My parents admired hers and they thought she was a goody two shoes," Zoraida answers charmingly before drinking her smoothie.

You squint at her when Javi hums intriguingly. "See, she's a charlatán, because she was the one with the good girl rep," you parry back and earn Javi's raised brows and pursed lipped mueca. "I was good at school, but had a bad attitude, according to most—"

"Yeah, and our parents were all come mierdas, so as long as we behaved and kept up appearances when it was crucial, we got the leeway we needed," Zoraida concedes, not wanting to lead the convo into darker edges of your shared pasts. "Anyway, so is it true you came down here just to get her back?"

"Zory!" you jeer grumpily at her, to Javi's unshaken amusement.

"I did."

"And what're your long-term intentions?"

"Zoraida—"

"I want to earn back everything we'd been working towards. Getting a place together, meeting our families, having our lives fit together—"

"You're gonna have to get through a few more steps before any of that, just so you know," Zoraida insists rather smugly, adding, "Tayra and Naida will have to sign off on you—"

"Ok, you're being ridiculous now," you interject, getting peeved.

Javier senses there's something underlying about the conversation, so he reassures, "It's fine, querida—"

"Look, I'm the really blunt one of our quartet, so I'll just come out and say it: I fell for the charms of the last guy Celina was head over heels for, and us three girls will not make that mistake again. We're very protective of her, and after all she's been through, we want to make sure she's with someone who deserves her," Zoraida states a little sharper than she'd intended, and sees your incredulous stare before you relax your features into that stoic, impartial regard that comes over you as a way to shield yourself. "I—I'm sorry. I don't mean any disrespect."

"None taken," Javi replies, leaning close to you so he can put his arm consolingly around your shoulders. "I'm happy that she has so many people who love and protect her. She deserves the world, so all I can say is, that I will do everything I have to in order to prove I'm worthy of her, and intend to earn the trust of everyone important in her life," is his baritone declaration, and when you glance up at him in awe, he genuinely smiles and kisses your temple before saying without frills, "I love her with all my heart. And she can do with me whatever she wants. I can take it."

It's the perfect thing to say that sparks the break in tension, earning a cleansing laugh from you and a relieve chuckle from Zoraida. "Well, I'm satisfied," she exclaims before dramatically toasting her cup with his, and saluting, "You've cleared your first judge. Good luck advancing through the trials of Celina, and thanks for the smoothie."

To say it was a rollercoaster of feelings that the conversation took you on would be an understatement, so you were thankful to wrap up the outing with your friend and head home with Javier.

As you drive, you find yourself rambling, "I'm really sorry about that. She's always been the super bad cop of the group, and sometimes she goes way too far and crosses the line, but she doesn't really mean to—"

"Mi amor, it's ok. I kind of enjoyed the verbal sparring," Javi assures you, eyeing your sheepish grimace. "I swear, I didn't mind it."

"Well, I did," you admit, concentrating on driving. "I do not like being under inquisition."

He reaches over and caresses his hand along your thigh. "I know you don't. So from now on, I'll take it, and you just need to let it play out. You don't need to defend me—"

You've just pulled up to the gate of your building and pause in putting in the code to glare imperiously over at him. "I know I don't need to defend you. I want to defend you, especially from my nosy, rude friends who think disrespecting you is a way to suss out whether you're a horrible jerk or not," you huff and punch in the code before rolling up your window.

Javi can tell you're getting worked up, so he flattens his lips to keep from saying what he wants.

You see it from the corner of your eye, so once the gate has opened and you can cruise down to your spot, you tell him impertinently, "Don't even try clamming up now. Go ahead and say what you were thinking, Javi."

His brow furrows dubiously at that, but he waits for you to park in your spot and turn the car off before he pivots towards you and husks, "I was thinking that you should let the people who know you and care about you protect you, even from yourself, which is what it sounded like Zoraida was hinting at. I didn't take offense to it because I know my intentions and how I've fucked up countless times before, so having someone who cares about you hold me to a standard isn't unreasonable. It's what I would want for you. And I'm up for the challenge of proving myself. But you're taking it as a critique of your judgment. I know feeling like someone is criticizing your past decisions can make you feel insulted, but I don't think it was meant that way."

Absorbing that, you wilt back into the seat, pensive. Javi thinks he's really hit a nerve in you, so he's about to apologize when you turn and stare into his dark brewed eyes with blazing conviction gleaming in yours.

"No. I resented her line of questioning of you, because I've made it clear to her and the others that the way I feel about you is different than I've ever felt about anyone else. So her pulling that shit earlier really ticked me off," you rationalize in a cool, yet firm timbre. At his hapless stare, you narrow your gaze and sass, "I guess it bears repeating: You are the love of my life, and I do not take kindly to anyone, no matter how much they mean to me, disparaging you in any way. Even if they think they're just being protective. I know what I feel, and what I want. And I trust you, so they should respect that. And so should you, dammit."

Astonished, Javi sits there with a dopy, smitten expression, so you scoff and lean over to kiss him, bossily grabbing him by the front of his shirt and tugging him forward to meet you halfway.

The kiss is electric. It's teeming with the static cling of tension, but scintillating with the simmering desire you both have for each other and have been intensely bottling up all evening.

As the make-out session gets more torrid, the windows begin to fog up, and the warmth inside the car has both your senses honing in on each other. The way his scent is spicy and heady, how the heat of your arousal gives away how wet and needy you are for him, the way his pulse is racing as his hands fondle you covetously while his ravenous tongue sweeps into your mouth to duel with yours.

Just as he glides his hand down to caress between your thighs, you gasp and drag your mouth to suckle his bottom lip before grazing your blunt teeth over the pillowy morsel and snickering, "Ah! Not here, fresco."

The molten, searing stare he gives you while his expression etches in surly desire makes your pulse skip, then shoot aching want between your thighs when he growls, "Get upstairs. Now."

Oh, how you missed this ridiculous game.

The order sends a salacious charge down your body and has you acting before you could even think. You're out of the driver's side with the car and house keys in your hand before it's even registered, and you're sprinting up to the lobby and rushing up the stairs before you've realized you left your gym bag in the backseat with Javi's. It'd been hardwired to do as he said, and you were aflutter with anticipation as you sprint up the flights of stairs, which was making you buzz anxiously. So much so, you drop the keys at one point and struggle to double back and scoop them up before resuming your sprint.

Just as you make it to your floor, you hear the distant ding of the elevator arriving at the lobby, so you squeak and hurry to cross the loggia corridor towards your apartment door. You fumble with the keys, missing slipping the lock's key in twice before you manage to unlock it and open the door. As you're yanking the key out, you hear the elevator arrive on your floor, and you excitedly dash into the apartment, closing the door haphazardly because of how hastily you toss the keys to the counter so you can yank your sneakers off and remove your socks in order to sprint easily on the tiled floor. But before you can make a run to your bedroom, Javier is breezing through the door with both gym bags in hand and a surly look that promised lasciviousness wherever he saw fit to indulge you in when he got his hands on you.

"Ven acá," he orders in that honeyed husk that drags over a roughened, commanding pitch as he tosses the gym bags aside and gestures 'Come here' to you.

The mischievous laugh bubbles up in you before you daringly dash away and run down the hall. You don't make it beyond the guest bedroom door though before Javier's gained on you and swept you up against him, earning a gleeful squeal from you.

"You little traviesa," he purrs puckishly as he pins you to the wall and slips his hands up your sweatshirt before pulling it up your torso and yanking it off you. "Do you know how fucking hard I've been?! How worked up you got me bending over like that in the class—?!"

"It was the pose! I didn't do anything sexy—" is your giggled counter as you grab his grey shirt and tug it up to pull it off for him. But as soon as his shirt is off, Javi grabs you by your hips and spins you around to be pinned with your hands to the wall. Your voice cracks and an excited sound slips from your lips as he unhooks your bra with one hand while the other yanks down your bottoms – bike shorts and panties peeling down your thighs before swiftly getting discarded once he kneels behind you to strip them off. Just as you're about to whine for him that he was being silly, Javi fondles a hand to grip the curve of your waist and spanks your bare left buttock with his other hand.

The needy whimper you make has him throbbing in his pants, but he wants to rile you up into begging for more. So, he runs one hand up your spine soothingly while the hand that spanked you caresses the smooth skin of your derrière as he croons, "I could make out the contour of your pussy through the leggings when you bent over. Wanted to run my tongue along your seam, right then and there—"

"Ja-Javi," you mewl and quiver with desire, blindly shedding your bra, which had you removing your hands from the wall and reaching backwards. It's an unconscious need to touch him as a way to ground yourself – of needing to still feel in control and like you weren't falling into chaos, so your fingers brush his shoulders before he hums warningly at you.

"Put your hands against the wall, malcriada."

Your palms are against the cool surface before you even realize the motion, and you can feel the apples of your cheeks burn as you stifle a whine by biting your lower lip.

He's buzzing with primal pride at how eager and compliant you're being, because he knows it means you're beyond turned on and desperate for him. So, he decides to instigate you.

With a possessive touch, Javi gropes his hand down from your waist to your mound before teasingly caressing your pussy. You gasp and rut against his fingers, beyond aroused, so Javi grazes his lips just above the cleft of your backside before growling in a sinful pitch, "Quit whining, or I won't give you what you want, you spoiled little minx—"

Hackles rising at that, you defiantly arch your back and sass in a reedy tone, "Do you know what I want, querido?" and shoot him a devious glance over your shoulder.

Pleased by your audacious comeback, Javi spanks your ass and recedes his fingers from teasing your dripping cunt. You mewl and shiver, knees becoming wobbly as he stands and swiftly boxes you in from behind before possessively cupping his large hand below your jaw so he can crane your countenance up to his, pinning you into place with his smoldering dark coffee gaze.

"You want your naughty ass dominated," is his velvet-over-steel rumble, eyeing you ravenously as he glides his thumb from your jaw to your chin before dragging the pad to trace the plump flesh of your bottom lip.

Not to be outdone, your gaze becomes alluring as you sultrily demand, "Then fucking dominate me, papisongo."

The deviant thrill that crests up through him is fierce, so much so he spins you around and picks you up by your waist to pin your back against the wall before he unceremoniously shoves his bottoms down his hips enough to free his throbbing manhood and guide you down onto it while he plunges up into your silken heat.

You anchor your arms to loop his shoulders and wrap your legs around his waist as he fucks you against the wall, expertly making you melt down into primal ecstasy and plucking cries of delight from you. The snap of his hips and the strength of his hold on you has you desperate for the bliss that begins to crescendo up, promising blistering gratification as your climax builds. So when Javi coos, "My sweet girl. Feel you getting close—" you whimper and nuzzle your pleading whines into his neck. And Javi answers you by angling his next thrusts to slam home into that delicate cluster of nerves deep inside your molten sheath, which propels you off the proverbial cliff to fall into rapturous completion.

"Javi!" you cry out before losing yourself to the carnal glory as your walls strangle around his throbbing cock.

It steals his breath, seeing you come apart so fiercely, and when you desperately cling to him and ride the wave of pleasure, you mindlessly bite the warm sloping muscle that connects his delectable neck to his broad shoulders before suckling hard on it.

The sound he makes is raw need and makes you ravenous, so when he fucks wantonly into you, only gasping cries of 'Yes-Yes-Yes!' ramble from your mouth as he barrels into you just before his hips stutter and he climaxes on a hoarse groan.

Shakily, he holds you both up against the wall as his release fills your pulsing heat, gasping and panting gruffly against your shoulder before nuzzling your cheek. You're just as fucked out whilst clinging to his broad frame, but your thighs are trembling from the effort of staying clung to him so, and you greedily wanting to keep him nestled deep inside of you.

With a hearty exhale, Javi nudges his head affectionately against you and husks, "Well…I kept my core engaged…guess I learned something after all."

You laugh breathily and lovingly kiss his warm, smiling features.

A short while later, you're both lounging in the warm bubble bath together, enjoying how the water soothes your aching muscles and relaxes the post coital fatigue from your satisfied sinew. You were still giggling at how silly it was that Javier had stripped you naked and kept his bottoms and sneakers on, and he was kneading his fingers in massaging presses along your curves while snickering his rationale.

"—I wasn't going to waste time kicking them off. Not with how quick you are descalza."

"You looked so funny standing in the hall with just your sneakers on—"

"And who's fault is that?"

"Mine, and I feel no guilt, bebito—"

"Ah-hah, keep giggling, loquita—"

You simper a taunting chuckle at that, so he scoops a big puff of bubbles and plops it on your head in a goofy crown of suds, causing you to laugh effervescently and splash him before he grins and pinches your butt under the water.

With a soft snicker, you brush the crown of bubbles off as you settle to cuddle into his side under the warm soapy water before you kiss his cheek and sigh, "That was amazing, Javi."

Smiling, he glides his hand along the length of your side under the water, grunting, "Yeah. Yoga's hot."

A silly snort comes out of you before you shift to rest more comfortably against him so you can caress your warm, wet fingertips along his brow, brushing them soothingly along his forehead when he closes his eyes and exhales a relaxing breath through his nose.

"Not as hot as you," is your sincere flirtation, enjoying how his eyes flutter and he groans contrarily. "C'mon, guapetón. You know I'm smitten with your sexy ass."

He chuckles at that and stares sweetly at you. "I do. Luckily, I feel the same," he purrs and gives you a smug look.

"You better," is your sassy coo before leaning in to peck him on the lips, then dip your fingertips into the water and flick droplets teasingly at him. "So tomorrow night, I'm going to get ready at Jodalys' place. Do you need me to iron any of your clothes?"

"I got it handled, querida. Don't worry," he replies coolly before scrubbing his hand down his face. "Oh, we finally got that co-op signed off on, so tomorrow we're going to be in Aguadilla for a training exercise. I should be back in time to get ready here and pick you up at her place, if you want."

Nodding, you idly trace your touch along his chest as you ask, "Are any of the guys going to attend the gala?" When he raises his brows curiously, you elaborate, "So, Olga happened to mention today that she's hoping to get a chance to socialize with Nic. I wasn't sure if he or any of your guys would be free to attend. Especially now if that operation is going to happen."

"The invite went to everyone, but I don't know if Lopez or Duff were planning on going. I'll ask 'em tomorrow," he answers thoughtfully before asking, "How was shopping with the girls?"

"Great. We each found what we needed for tomorrow night. I'm really looking forward to the night out," you tell him, smiling when he hums and quirks his lips goadingly. "What?"

"Nothing. Just wondering what sexy lingerie you're gonna have on under your dress," he remarks nonchalantly and gives a one-shouldered shrug.

"Ah, well. Who said I plan to wear anything under my dress at all?" is your cavalier musing, mimicking his shrug.

"…You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, wouldn't I?"

"Querida—" he begins to grumble warningly, trying for stern, but the way you squint cunningly at him makes it clear you're only teasing, so he grunts, "All right, quit instigatin' me and get your pruny butt out of this bath, Ms. Namaste."

You both relish the shared nightly routine of getting ready for bed. While you do so, you mention to Javi about the plans for Sunday, telling him all about how you and your friends had been ring shopping helpers for Naida's soon-to-be fiancé. He listens and steals glances at you as you pull a big, well-worn Blondie tour shirt on before brushing your hair out in front of the mirror as you dish and appreciatively glance at your boxer-brief-clad stud.

"—I have a nice bottle of bourbon for him, and a registry preset for her at the chic homeware boutique she loves, so now it's just waiting to see which of our ring selections he chose," you're recapping as you pull the quilt away so you can slip under it while Javi shuts the hall light off and saunters in to the side of the bed closest to the door. Fluffing the pillows, you musingly query, "So you'll be in Aguadilla most of the day tomorrow?"

"No, just in the afternoon. I have meetings to go over logistics and bank financials. Lawyers for some of the banks are stonewalling us, so I have to deal with that while Steve keeps an eye on things. He'll be at the federal building office most of the day," Javi replies in a relaxed baritone as he slips under the covers with you and switches the lamp off. Slinking up to wrap his forearm around your waist so he can pull you close, he nuzzles your jaw and croons, "Mmm, you smell good, rockerita. No sexy little batita tonight?"

Snickering, you nudge him to lie back so you can cuddle into his side as you lilt, "All my nice nighties are at your place or in the hamper, suavón!"

He grunts wryly and settles comfortably in bed with you. You contentedly kiss his cheek and nestle up against him, arm slung across his chest to idly caress the contour of his deltoid while you relax and begin to doze off to the breezy sounds sifting through the room and the strong thrum of his heartbeat.

"Goodnight, hermoso."

He grunts coolly, the exhaustion of the workout class and the torrid romp in the hallway making him easily succumb to sleep, head lulled on the pillow while you snuggle to rest yours on his shoulder.

When you both rise early the next morning, you shower together, and while he gets dressed, you whip up a nice breakfast for you both to share while stood at the kitchen counter to eat so you can quickly savor the coffee while multitasking finishing getting ready for the busy day.

Straightening the knot of his silver and blue tie for him, you rise to your tippy toes to peck him on the lips before drawling, "Good luck dealing with FBI today. I hope the drill goes well."

Snorting he caresses your waist and holds you close so he can give you a soulful look while he smirks and deadpans, "I'm gonna need it, considering I just want to deck the guy—"

"Nada de eso, mi amor," you tut sarcastically and give him a faux chiding pout as you harp, "It shouldn't bare repeating that he's an asshat you shouldn't get jealous over, but since you're so terco, I'll just remind you that if you get in a dust up with him and end up needing to be bailed out, I will be really mad at you."

Relenting, Javi grouses, "Yeah…and you'd be right to be pissed. I won't start anything, cariño. I promise."

With an exacting smile, you caress his hair and purr, "Good boy."

The flare of want darkens his coffee-brewed irises just before he impishly pulls you against him so he can kiss you breathless.

Pulling away suddenly to break the kiss, he smugly grunts when you chase his lips and end up blushing. "You be a good girl and have a great day at work, preciosa," he husks before stealing a cheeky peck and grabbing his keys from the counter, shooting you a debonair wink before he breezes out the apartment door.

Letting out a flustered huff, you coax your arousal to simmer down as you rush to finish getting ready.

As you're heading out to start your work commute, you don't know that your day will be a tumult of unexpected turmoil, nor that Javi will be both at the mercy of said turmoil and the perpetuator of it. No, only the excited anticipation is what fills you up, leaving you unprepared for what's to come.

  ________________

Spanish-English Glossary:

Querida/querido = Affectionate term, akin to expressing one's want and desire

Mi amor = My love

Ay, por favor = Oh, please

Jevo = Puerto Rican slang for boyfriend

Amigo = Friend; buddy

Chisme = Gossip

Pana = Puerto Rican slang for 'buddy' or friend

Guapito = Handsome (said in an affectionate diminutive)

Canela = Cinnamon

Chulo/Chulito = Cute guy; little cutie

Chingona = Mexican slang for bad ass woman

Dame un beso, gatita coqueta = Give me a kiss, you coquettish kitten

Tesoro = Treasure; darling

Mija = Short for mi hija, aka my daughter; my girl Pá. Cuídate = Dad. Take care

Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious

Fresco = a guy who's being 'fresh', or naughty/pervy

Mira quien habla = Look who's talking

Jefa = Boss lady

Dulzón = Sweetheart [male]

Puto cabrón =Fucking asshole

La Fortaleza = The Puerto Rican Governor's office and mansion; aka 'The Puerto Rican White House'

Chismeando = Gossiping around

Sangano = Puerto Rican slang for a man who's a fool; an idiot, moron or dummy

Galán = Handsome gent

Atrevido/Atrevida = Daring man/Daring woman

Malvadita = Wicked little girl

Mírame, hermosa = Look at me, beautiful

Beyaquito = Little naughty perv

Bravita= Tough girl; feisty girl

Señorita = Miss; little lady

Traviesa = Naughty/Mischievous girl Burlón = Joker; teaser

Cariño = Darling/sweetheart

Ah pues = Oh well

Es tan lindo, y buena gente. Su sonrisa me encanta = He's so cute and kind. I love his smile

Cabrón = Asshole

Pendejo = Dumbass/Jackass

Rizos = Curls (hair)

Beyako = Puerto Rican slang for horny/naughty guy; akin to "horn dog"

Mira quien es = Look who it is

Mucho gusto = Nice to meet you; Pleasure to meet you

Mala = Bad girl

¿Te tiene suelta como gabete, eh? = This is Puerto Rican slang that basically translates to 'He's got you uninhibited and free;' being loose and untethered like a untied shoelace

Cállate = Shut up

Deja el relajo = Cut the hassling

Nada de eso = None of that

Nena = Girl

Me cae bien, fíjate = I like him, mind you

Pero = But

Chavón = A man that's pestering you

Charlatán = Charlatan; Chatterbox

Muecas = Making faces; grimaces

Come mierdas = Literally translates to 'shit eaters' but as Puerto Rican slang, it refers to snobby people who are foolishly elitist, or think they're better than others

Ven acá = Come here

Malcriada/malcriado = Brat/spoiled

Papisongo = Puerto Rican slang for a very sexy man; a stud

Descalza = Barefoot [woman]

Bebito = Little baby (male)

Loquita = Crazy girl

Guapetón = Super handsome, good-looking guy

Rockerita = Rocker girl; Little rocker chick

Batita = Nightgown

Suavón = Smooth talker; Smooth guy

Terco = Stubborn [man]

Cariño = Darling/sweetheart

Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and sharing your feedback. I would be eternally grateful. 

[mother-fucker-posts]

mom walking around home naked not thinking anything of it because they're all family, while her daughter is 5 seconds away from taking her mom for herself

It started pretty casual. In fact I think I started it: before my transition it wasn't a big deal for me to walk around shirtless, and that carried over into the first year of HRT. She doubtlessly noticed my tender, perky tits swiftly growing in (and doubling in size once Progesterone started). So, she decided if her self-made daughter would be walking around topless, it wouldn't be a big deal if she did the same.

Unfortunately a side effect of progesterone is putting tgirls into a breeding frenzy. Hormones out of whack, cock painfully hard, it wouldn't take long for me to start fucking those big tits so hard it's like I think it'd get her pregnant.

Maybe that was the plan, after all.