#single dad! javi

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 58 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is hesitant to drive his family to Disneyland, and he's even more hesitant to make love to you. All he seems to be able to think about is the baby and his desire to plan the perfect, low-key wedding, but you make sure he takes some time to relax.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley couldn't ever remember being this stressed out in his life. Well, besides every single time he had to deal with Meredith. The weeks had absolutely flown by, probably because he was not so secretly dreading driving up to Disneyland for Thanksgiving weekend. He'd voiced his opinions and concerns several times, but apparently your doctor's answer overrode his. Disneyland was happening, and the only thing he'd been able to insist upon for his own peace of mind was the addition of Nat.

Thanksgiving dinner at Mav and Penny's had been relaxing and peaceful. Bradley hadn't been home for the holiday the past two years, and it felt good to have a day to just appreciate everyone around him. Having you there made all the difference, and he knew he wanted you with him for every holiday from now on. You tried to help Penny cook and clean up, but everyone else insisted you rest and just enjoy yourself.

That was just a few hours ago, and now the sun had set, and Noah was in his pajamas. Bradley buckled him in the backseat of the Bronco before checking to make sure all of the bags made their way in as well. That's when he heard the argument coming from the sidewalk. 

"You can sit in the front," you insisted. "I don't mind sitting in the back with Noah."

"No, no," Nat replied, "I insist. I'll sit in the back so you can sit with Bradley."

"But I kind of want to sit with Noah," you told her. "You can sit with Bradley and talk about work."

"Or," Nat replied, "you and he can hammer out some of the wedding details while you sit in the front with him."

"Are you both serious right now?" Bradley asked as he slammed the tailgate shut. "Neither of you want to sit with me?"

He held his arms out to his sides, and you rushed over to give him a hug with a little smirk on your face. "I'm sorry, Daddy," you whispered, pressing your cheek to his chest and giving him a hug. "It's just that Noah is so sweet, and he'd probably hold my hand until he falls asleep."

Nat used this opportunity to get herself situated next to Noah with a bright smile on her face. "You know, I expect this kind of thing from her, but not from you, Princess," Bradley said before kissing the top of your head. "Get in the front and hold my hand instead?"

Thirty minutes later, Bradley was driving up the highway, and he was the only one awake as your hand rested softly in his. He stroked your knuckles and your ring as he wove along the roads on the way up to Anaheim. "I can't believe what you've done to my life," he whispered, shaking his head but smiling. At the beginning of the year, he'd been stressed out pretty much all the time. He would have never planned a trip to Disneyland just for him and Noah, because every day felt impossible back then. If he was honest with himself, every day still felt challenging now with Noah getting older and the baby on the way, but nothing was ever harder because of you. It was always better.

He heard rustling in the backseat, and when he glanced in his mirror, he saw that Nat was awake. "Javy texted me," she said with a yawn when she met his eyes. "He said your dog is a pussy magnet."

Bradley snorted. "Let me guess. He took her for a walk and women came out of the woodwork to talk to him?"

She hummed and said, "Maybe leaving Skittles with him for the weekend was a bad idea."

"Nah," Bradley replied, stifling his laughter. "I'm sure he told them that he already has a really mean girlfriend and that she would kick their asses if they looked at him too long."

She leaned forward and smacked the back of his head. "I'm not mean."

"Sure, Nat."

"Hey, I did the impossible by finding you a wife. That's nice person shit right there."

"Yet with the undertone of condescension," Bradley replied, making her laugh. "I do owe you though. And you won't even let me say thank you."

This time she patted him gently on the back of his head. "You can say it one time."

"Thanks, Nat."

----------------------------

You vaguely remembered half walking and half being carried up to the hotel room in your state of exhaustion. Thanksgiving had taken more out of you than you thought considering you barely did anything to help Mav and Penny with dinner or dessert. But apparently the turkey made you sleepy. Everything was making you sleepy now. But you were finally past the progesterone shots, and your doctor said everything was looking good.

Friday morning when you woke up as the sun just started peeking in through the window, you jolted up in bed naked. Bradley was still asleep next to you, snoring softly, but you looked around the room a bit frantically. "Daddy," you gasped, shaking him awake. "Bradley! Where's Noah?"

He rolled onto his back and looked up at you through barely cracked open eyes. "Princess?" he rasped, simply reaching for you and trying to pull you back against him. But the other bed was empty, and your heart wouldn't calm down.

"Where's Noah?" you repeated, and now he started to sit up.

"Next door," he mumbled. "He's in the other room with Nat, Baby."

You placed your hand over your heart and eased yourself back down onto the pillow as you whispered, "Right. Right. Sorry, I just barely remember you even bringing me to the room last night."

"Don't apologize," he murmured next to your ear as he pulled you closer to him. "You're the best Mommy." His face was pressed against your neck and shoulder, and his arm was like a boa constrictor, tightening little by little until around your ribs until you were snug against him. You felt protected and loved as the sound of his steady breathing calmed you down. But he had morning wood, and you could feel Bradley's erection firm and long against the back of your thigh as he spooned you. 

It had literally been months since you felt his cock thrusting inside you. You and he hadn't had vaginal intercourse since before he left for his special flight mission in Japan, and now you were aching painfully. Sure, you'd had fun getting him off with your hands, mouth and breasts for the last four weeks, and he'd been very generous with his lips, mustache and fingers. But you wanted him to fill you up. 

"Bradley," you whispered, trying to figure out if he'd fallen back to sleep again behind you, but when he grunted your first name, you moaned. He bucked against you even though you knew he was trying not to. "My doctor said it's okay now."

His rough thumb was stroking your nipple as he rasped, "I know, but maybe we shouldn't risk it. I can wait until after the baby is born."

An absolutely scandalized noise escaped you. "I love you for that, Daddy, I really do, but I don't think I can make it five more months."

"I'll go down on you," he said, letting his hand skim along your growing belly until he was cupping your pussy. "Happily." But you were pinned between his rock hard cock and his hand, and you knew exactly what you needed.

"I want your cock," you demanded. "It's perfectly safe for the baby now that my uterus is fixed up. And I want it."

Rarely did you ever tell him that you wanted something, and you almost never whined, but the combination of the two seemed to set him off a little bit. He was twitching and pulsing against your leg, and you felt him reach down to free himself from the confines of his underwear. Skin on skin was enough to make you whine his name a little louder. When you eased your leg up and back over his hip, you could feel the tip of him rubbing against your wet pussy.

"Take me just like this. Nice and slow from behind," you whispered, and his only response was a long string of obscenities as he pushed his cock just an inch or so inside you. 

"Baby," he ground out as his hand squeezed your hip. "Slow. Real slow. I don't want to hurt either of you."

You gasped, "You won't," as he slid himself deeper and deeper before eventually bottoming out with his hips pressed to your butt. "Oh god, you feel so good."

Bradley kept himself still, just like that, barely moving but filling you up regardless. "Shit," he whimpered next to your ear. "Fuck, it's been months." His voice was so rough, and his hot breath left goosebumps trailing down you back and arm. When you wiggled back against him, he grunted. "I'm not gonna last."

"I don't care," you told him, guiding his rough fingers to your clit and enjoying every sensation his body gave you. He smelled good, and he was warm and strong and big. Big everywhere. His lips found the spot right behind your ear, and he sucked gently. Your nipples were tender peaks, and your belly was just starting to show proof of your pregnancy. There was evidence of those days of rough sex from the summer all over your body, but right now he was gentler than ever.

"Am I hurting you?" he whispered before taking your earlobe between his lips. His thrusts were smooth and languid, and you could feel every bit of him.

"No. You're perfect." That had his fingers working a little more frantically on your clit, but he kept the same pace with his thrusts. Slow and steady and never rough. 

But he got you there. "Baby," he whined, punching and plucking until you were sure your clit was a tight little ball of nerves against his fingertips. You started to squeeze around him, and he held still, more filthy cursing filling your ears as he spilled his cum inside you.

"Oh. Daddy," you moaned softly as you came in his embrace with his body pressed to your back. You couldn't stop yourself from bumping back against him as you fucked yourself gently along his cock, enjoying every little tremor and tremble.

"Tell me I didn't hurt you," he whispered, easing his wet fingers up along your belly, cupping where you imagined the baby was right now. "Please."

You turned to look at his earnest eyes over your shoulder and said, "You didn't hurt me."

"I love you, Princess." A series of soft knocks made you jump in his arms, and Bradley groaned as the knocking continued. He was still inside you as he said, "That's gotta be Noah."

You realized there was a door conjoining the next room with yours, and you could hear Noah's little voice calling out. "Daddy? Mommy? I want to meet Mickey Mouse."

With one more kiss to your shoulder, Bradley withdrew himself from your body, inspected his cock and then pulled his underwear back up. "Go make sure you're okay," he commanded as he stood. "I'll take care of Noah."

Carefully, still blissfully aware of the way that orgasm left your skin tingling, you made your way into the bathroom as Bradley's cum dribbled down your inner thighs. You cleaned yourself up, and there was no sign of blood at all. You took a quick shower, and you felt amazing. When you eventually emerged from the bathroom all wrapped up in your towel, you found your boys both dressed and ready to go and sitting on the edge of the unused bed.

"Mommy," Noah whined. "I'm hungry and I want to meet Mickey Mouse."

You bent and kissed his soft curls as you said, "Well take care of both of those things for you. Promise."

----------------------------

Disneyland was simultaneously the most wonderful and most anxiety inducing place Bradley had ever been. The look on Noah's face as the four of you explored the parks together made Bradley smile, but every time you started to look tired, he wasn't sure it was worth it. But then you'd smile at him, too. He'd give you anything you wanted.

"Are you okay?" he asked, collecting you in his arms as Nat rode the teacups with Noah for the third time in a row. "You sure I didn't hurt you this morning?"

A little smile curled along your glossy lips before you kissed him softly. Then you kissed him again and again. It was bad enough that you looked so much younger than him; he got a few raised eyebrows here and there. But then you always called him Daddy with absolutely no shame whatsoever. It always got under his skin and made him run a little hot, but now you had your belly pressed against him as you kissed your way back close to his ear.

"Daddy," you crooned. "You didn't hurt me one bit. You gave me exactly what I needed. Your big cock."

"Baby," he whispered, squeezing your hips in warning. "Don't get us kicked out of the happiest place on Earth."

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. "You know what would make it even happier?"

"Don't say it," he rasped, shaking his head as you looked up at him. "I'm begging."

You just smirked. "Sneaking off to that family bathroom..."

Bradley tipped his head back and groaned while you giggled. "You said it."

Finally having sex again in the hotel room this morning before Noah practically kicked down the door in search of breakfast seemed to make you extra clingy. Not that Bradley minded one bit. He didn't. He loved it. But you had been alone when you had to go to the emergency room last month, and he was still on edge about everything that happened when he was in Japan. 

When you started tugging on his arm, he shook his head again. "No. Not here. Only where I can be as gentle with you as possible."

Then you were in his arms again telling him how sweet he was, and Bradley was just a lost cause. 

"I'm tapping out," Nat announced as she and Noah walked over hand in hand. "That ride is okay the first two times, but after that, it's evil."

"I loved it!" Noah announced as Bradley picked him up. 

"Of course you did," he said, kissing his son's cheek. "What do you want to do now? Another ride? Get a snack?"

"Meet Mickey Mouse!"

Bradley groaned for an entirely different reason. The line to meet the characters was pretty long, but you'd insisted on buying something called an autograph book, so he said, "Sure, Bub. We can go meet the main mouse."

Bradley held hands with both you and Noah while Nat led the way, talking with her hands and bouncing like she was Tigger to make Noah giggle. Bradley was right, the line was long, but it was worth it. Noah didn't complain about how much time it was taking, but he did ask you to pick him up over and over again.

"Let me hold you," Nat offered, but Noah kept reaching for you instead. When Bradley told him he was too heavy, tears filled his eyes and his face scrunched up.

"Sweet Noah," you whispered, kissing his cheek and kind of cuddling up with him while he was in Bradley's arms. "Don't cry. I'm right here. I'm just not allowed to lift things like big, growing boys who love dinosaurs and coloring books, okay?" You wiped at his tears with your thumbs, and Bradley was once again mesmerized by you. "That's better," you told him. "I don't want you to cry right before we get to meet Mickey Mouse."

Noah sniffled and nodded, and you didn't move away from his as the line moved up. "You're amazing," Bradley whispered. "Mommy of the year."

"There he is!" Nat gasped, perhaps more excited than all of the kids in the line put together. "Mickey! And I'm not talking about Fanboy!"

Bradley chuckled as the Mouse beckoned them forward to take photos. 

------------------------

"How about we ride something else?" Bradley asked, but you watched Noah tug him back toward It's a Small World. 

"This is my favorite!"

"Noah," he laughed, "you've said that about every single ride all day long."

"No, this one," Noah insisted.

"Just one more time?" you asked, also tugging on Bradley.

"We've been on it seven times in a row," he insisted, shaking his head.

"Six times," Nat replied, pushing him from behind. 

"Natasha, the song is going to kill me," he said, taking a few steps toward the line queue again. "I'll never be able to get it out of my head."

But the three of you won, of course. Because he was willing to do anything that you and Noah wanted. And that included riding a boat past legions of slightly creepy, singing, animatronic children. "You'll be fine," you insisted, rubbing his abs. "After this, we'll feed you dinner."

"You better," he mumbled, winking at you. "And I need more Mickey shaped snacks, too."

To your delight and Noah's, Bradley willingly rode It's a Small World three more times and sang the song nearly the whole time. "I'm going to annoy you with this forever," he whispered in your ear as the little boat sailed along. 

You looked up at him and said, "Please do. That means you'll be around forever."

His eyes widened in soft surprise. "I'm not going anywhere." You felt his thumb run across your engagement ring where he was holding your hand in his lap. "Just a couple more weeks and we'll be married."

The fact that he was taking care of most of the planning without showing any signs of stress was amazing to you. As the song played on repeat and the dancing animatronics spun around, you tapped your foot. "You really want to get married so soon?" you asked him. 

"Hell yes. I already told you I did."

"Even if it's just a backyard wedding?"

Bradley gave you all of his focus like you were the only thing in his world when he said, "All we really need is both of us and Noah for it to be perfect."

"Technically we also need Natasha," you added, and he rolled his eyes.

"Fine. We also need Natasha. But that's only because she got ordained online. Other than that, I don't really care about the details too much. I just want to see you in a wedding dress."

You bit your lip and moaned. "Nothing fits me great right now. And I feel like my belly is really going to pop out one day soon."

"I can't wait," he grunted, making you shiver at the tone of his voice. "Jesus, I hope your belly gets bigger in the next three weeks."

His lips found your neck, and this time you were the one who had to remind him that you were very much in the middle of Disneyland sharing a seat in the boat with Nat and Noah. But now you had a better idea of what kind of dress you should get; you'd been holding off, hoping to figure out how to get one that would still fit for the big day. 

"So you want to be able to see the bump in the wedding photos?"

"Princess," he grunted. "God, yes. But don't you dare make me hard on It's a Small World."

You were still laughing as the boat floated up to the exit and you climbed out.

-----------------------

"Stop," you and Nat whined in unison as Bradley started singing the Small World song again on the drive back to San Diego on Sunday. But he just smiled and finished, dodging away from your hand as you tried to cover his mouth from the passenger seat. This time, he saw you and Nat playing rock, paper, scissors to see who got to sit in the back with Noah. Your rock lost to her paper, so you were in the front with him. 

"This is your punishment for being mean," he said as Noah napped. "And I'm talking to both of you."

"I'm just happy that you loved Disneyland," you said over his singing. You were looking at wedding dresses on your phone and holding the selections up for Nat to look at. Bradley had to fight to keep his eyes on the road instead of the screen, but he honestly did want to be surprised. 

"Hey, what am I supposed to wear?" he asked, realizing that you'd seen him in most of his nicer clothes when he was leaving you at home with Noah to go on app dates. He'd have to buy something new, something just for you. Something to make the day special.

"Doesn't matter," Nat said followed by a low whistle as she held your phone. "Nobody will even notice you if your wife is wearing this dress. Holy shit."

Bradley glanced in the rear view mirror to make sure Noah was still asleep. "It's that good?" he asked as you looked a little bashful next to him. "Buy it. Put it on your princess card."

"It has two-day shipping," Nat said. "If you don't like it, we can go out and look at some other options on Wednesday after work."

"I don't know..." you said, hesitating as you took your phone back and looked at whichever dress Nat thought was perfect. 

"Buy it, Baby, or I won't shut up for the next hour." Bradley cleared his throat and started singing, "It's a world of laughter, a world of tears. It's a world of hopes, and a world of fears."

"Fine!" you said, scrambling with your phone as Nat covered her ears. "I'm buying it!"

Bradley smiled at the road before him and muttered, "Gotta love Disney."

-----------------------

If you have Princess wedding dress inspo (that will show off her little bump just like Bradley is hoping) please send it to me! I'm thinking we will end up with 62 parts for this story, which is absolutely wild to me. Thanks for reading! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 59

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[thetriumphantpanda]

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders | Javier Peña

Series Summary | Javier Peña has been your dad's best friend for as long as you can remember. He's also been the apple of your eye since you were old enough to know what that meant. Obsessed, some might say, in love is what you'd say. Now, he's back to Laredo for good, single but cloaked in a darkness you want to unravel. Surely, now you're all grown, he'll see you as more than his friends daughter, as someone who can ease his trouble and take the weight of his shoulders.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Series Warnings | Age gap relationship (12 years), forbidden/taboo relationship, slow burn, mutual pining, outrageous flirting, descriptions of PTSD and panic attacks, soft!Javi, protective!Javi, explicit smut, reader is innocent but not inexperienced, grumpy x sunshine vibes, canon-typical violence, mentions of the drug trade, drug use and drug related deaths and violence, Javier Peña gets his own warning (even more so as dbf - he's gonna be a menace).

Authors Note | I've missed Javier Peña so much so here we fucking go I guess? Huge shout out as always to @morning-star-joy who has been on the receiving end of SO much screaming about these two.

Main Masterlist | Series Playlist

Chapters

Chapters marked with ** indicate smut.

Chapter One - my lonely days are over

Chapter Two - pining & desperately waiting

Chapter Three - where have all the good men gone?

Chapter Four - one kiss is all it takes

Chapter Five - it's new, the shape of your body **

Chapter Six - get down on your knees and tell me you love me **

Chapter Seven - i only wanna worship you **

Chapter Eight - i don’t really wanna fight, ‘cause nobody’s gonna win **

Chapter Nine - close to you

Chapter Ten - i think he did it

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen.

Extras

Fic moodboard by @cavillscurls

Fic moodboard by @sawymredfox

Chapter One moodboard by @hellishjoel

[creedslove]

dad!Javier Peña who would've never thought one day he would actually become a parent, but the moment you break the news to him, he gets down on his knees in front of you, eyes full of emotional tears he didn't even know he was holding and he would kiss your belly to show that tiny little dot in your womb their already loved and welcome

dad!Javier Peña who will definitely want to tie the knot because he wants his baby Peña to be welcomed in a steady and traditional family, he wants to call you his wife and have you sign things with his last name, he wants to see a wedding ring on your finger as he watches your pregnant belly grow

dad!Javier Peña who would protect you at all costs and take you back to his family ranch in Laredo, where you can both start a calm and easy going life together, where you can give birth without worrying if he's alright or being killed by one of Escobar's sicários and your baby can have plenty of spaces to play

dad!Javier Peña who would worry about you being immersed in all of the town's gossip regarding himself, concerned that somehow it would affect your feelings or your love for him, but the truth couldn't be further than that, as you don't give a single fuck about what people say about him, he's your man, your future husband and father of your baby, and you couldn't love him more, because Javi is perfect the way he is for you and your beautiful baby

dad!Javier Peña who can't hold himself and starts buying several things for the baby without even knowing the gender yet, he tries buying things gender neutral not wanting to compromise the baby's wardrobe but sometimes you do find pink onesies or dinosaur themed baby shoes, showing Javi is pretty much excited for whatever it comes, he just can't wait

dad!Javier Peña who made sure to paint all the walls, after settling down the color, he'd spend the whole afternoon painting, and once it's done he would be so proud his work

dad!Javier Peña who would rest his head against your belly every night, kiss the baby goodnight and talk to it until he feels his own eyes closing with sleep

dad!Javier Peña who feels so lucky and blessed to be able to have such a loving family like the one he has with you 💞

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Bonding

Summary: You and Javi just brought your daughter Lucy home from the hospital. While the two of you couldn't be more in love and excited at the addition of your newest family member, it doesn't mean that you both aren't feeling some of the nerves of being first time parents.

Word Count: 2.4K (She's reasonable, your honor)

Pairing: Dad!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: This is honestly just pure, sweet, sickening, fluff, mentions of body insecurity postpartum, worry/anxiety about being a first time parent, Javi snuggling a newborn baby skin on skin (it needs a warning fr), Javi being the cutest dad ever to exist, Javi is in full on dad mode, ladies and gents (gn) 🫡

A/N: This was inspired after reading @kteague adorable post about Frankie carrying his daughter in a baby sling, and I couldn't help but picture sweet Javi as a first time dad cuddling with his baby girl 😭🥺 and to @endlessthxxghts for being a bad influence 💀Y ou know for a fact that Lucy's got Javi wrapped around her finger from the moment she's born, and picturing the adorable bond these two have makes me want to melt into a puddle 🫠 also I have a raging case of baby fever, but let's pretend that wasn't entirely the motive to write this or that I'm not projecting at all WHOOPS

Part of the Forever and Always Series!!

From the moment you had found out you were pregnant, you had no doubt that Javi was going to be nothing short of the best dad you could have ever hoped for. Before your daughter was even born, Javi had completely flipped the switch into full Dad Mode, spending the past 9 months coming with you to every single doctor’s appointment, baby proofing every square inch of your home, and checking out (and re-checking out) every parenting book he could get his hands on at the library. 

So it was safe to say, that once you brought Lucy home from the hospital to start your life together as a family of 3, if Javi hadn’t already been full force into Dad Mode, he sure as hell was now, and was going to do anything and everything he could to make sure that the two most important girls in his life were showered with every ounce of love and affection he had. 

It was also safe to say that even though he wouldn’t admit it, Javi was also an absolute nervous wreck at the reality that he was now actually a dad to a tiny newborn daughter that had been brought into the world. 

“You think that her diaper is snug enough? Should I get a bottle ready just in case she gets hungry? Different pajamas to sleep in before we put her down?” Javi asked, carefully cradling Lucy against his chest as you passed her off to him, planting a soft kiss on her head, gently bouncing her up and down. 

“Javi,” You laughed leaning in to give your sleepy daughter a kiss on the messy tufts of hair ruffled on her head before looking back up at your husband, “I’m going to take a shower, not leaving for war. I’ll be quick, so that way if she needs me then I’ll-” 

“Hermosa,” he paused, raising an eyebrow at you as he smiled, “take as long as you need, okay? I’m just asking to make sure so I don’t have to bother you. Take an hour, hell, take 3 hours for all I care, you deserve it, Momma. I can’t imagine how exhausted you are. Me and Lucy Goosey will be just fine, won’t we, mi amor (my love)?” 

The two of you smiled as Lucy quietly cooed, your grin spreading even wider watching Javi’s face light up with joy as he looked down at his daughter, your heart practically bursting at the seams with how in love he was with her. But even through the pure bliss in Javi’s eyes, you couldn’t help but sense a nervous twinge in his voice, knowing that in the short day and a half that you’d been home from the hospital, even though you were only a room away, this was the first time that Javi was in charge of Lucy all by himself. And because you knew your husband better than you knew yourself, you knew that despite the fact Javi was probably better prepared for parenting than you were, he was secretly terrified he was going to do something that would hurt his precious baby girl, and the thought of that? That scared the shit out of him. 

“Javi?” You said again, gently rubbing your hand against his arm, forcing his gaze to shift on to you and your tired smile. “Honey, you know you’re an amazing dad right? But, I can guarantee that even though we would do anything and everything for this stinker, we’re gonna mess up at some point. You love her so much, and that’s all that matters, okay? I love you, Jav.” 

You could feel some of the tension begin to ease from Javi’s body, looking back down at Lucy before back to you, taking in a deep breath, and softly nodding his head to himself. 

“I know, it’s just- She’s so perfect. I wanna give her everything. I just, I just wanna be a good dad. I just want her to know that I love her so much.” 

As if you weren’t already an emotional mess, watching the tears well in Javi’s eyes as he gazed down at Lucy, looking at her like she was the only thing the world that existed, had your hormonal heart bursting into a million pieces, now trying to wipe your own wetness streaming down your cheeks. 

“Javi, I don’t think it’s possible for you to love that little girl anymore than you already do.” You sighed, stepping in to press a kiss onto Javi’s lips before another onto Lucy’s head. “Okay, I’m gonna go shower before I become even more of a hot mess than I already am. You sure you’re gonna be okay?” 

“Thanks, Osita. We’ll be just fine. I love you.” 

“I love you too, Jav.” 

“And hey, you’re not a hot mess, just hot.” Javi smirked, making you roll your eyes as you gestured to yourself and the undeniably disheveled state you were in. 

“Javi, I look like I just rolled out of a dumpster. I am literally wearing an adult sized diaper.” 

“And no one’s ever made an adult sized diaper look hotter, Hermosa.” 

You couldn’t help but let out a snort, shaking your head at your husband as you finally turned to head out of the nursery, giving Javi and Lucy one last wave before disappearing out of the door frame and into the bathroom for a much needed shower. 

“Alright, it’s just you and me, pollita (little chicken).” Javi smiled, rocking Lucy against your chest, taking a deep breath of reassuring confidence, feeling more self-assured about his time alone. “Let’s get you into some pajamas, huh?” With another kiss on Lucy’s head, Javi carefully laid her down on her changing table, reaching into one of the drawers to pull out a tiny onesie covered in pink flowers and strawberries. 

He couldn’t help but laugh to himself at how absolutely tiny the pair of pajamas felt in his hands, shaking his head in disbelief at the fact that all of this was real- for so long, Javi had been convinced a family of his own would never be in the cards for him, and for as much as it hurt, he’d come to accept it. But when you had come into his life and given him the second chance that he had so desperately longed for, he still couldn’t quite believe how he had deserved to find himself here with a beautiful family, a wife and daughter he loved more than life itself, and how he couldn’t have been happier to be dressing his newborn baby girl into a pair of tiny pink pajamas. 

Checking Lucy’s diaper and tossing her clothes into the hamper, Javi zipped her up into her pajamas, noticing that she was starting to get squirmy and fussy, he quickly picked her back up, pressed against his chest as he made his way over to the rocking chair in the corner of the nursery. 

Despite the steady movement back and forth and the gentle rocking, Lucy’s cries only started to become louder, Javi trying his best to keep calm despite the fact his heart was racing, thinking he had already done something wrong to upset his daughter in the few short minutes they had been together. 

“Hey, hey, hey, shhhhhhh, it’s okay bebita, it’s okay.” Javi cooed, gently patting Lucy’s back to try and soothe her. “What’s wrong, huh? It’s not your diaper, Momma fed you before she got in the shower, I wonder if it’s-” 

Before Javi could finish the rest of his mental checklist outloud, he was looking down at his shoulder to see the little dribbles of spit-up drooling from Lucy’s mouth onto his shirt, quietly laughing to himself at the mystery that had seemed to solve itself. 

“Alright, well that was easy. Let’s get you cleaned up, messy miss.” 

Standing up to bring Lucy back to the changing table, he laid her down to reach into another drawer to grab one of the many burp cloths that had been stored away to wipe up Lucy’s little face before he was back to the pajama drawer, pulling out another pair to change her into. But as he tossed Lucy’s second outfit in 10 minutes into the laundry, he couldn’t help but notice the giant spit stain drenching his own shoulder. Not wanting to have to lay Lucy back into his damp shirt, he stared down at his daughter in nothing but her diaper, thinking back to the advice from the plethora of parenting books he had consumed and a few days ago after Lucy’s birth, where the nurses had been adamant about making sure both you and Javi spent plenty of skin on skin time with the baby. 

Trying to fight off any self-doubt or need for reassurance, Javi took a deep breath as he stared down at Lucy, still restless and crying on her changing table before stripping his own shirt and tossing it in with the other tiny items of laundry that had quickly accumulated throughout the day. 

“Okay, c’mere mi amorcita (my little love), it’s okay, I’ve got you. Shhhhhh, I’ve got you, baby girl.” Javi cooed, carefully cradling his daughter to his bare chest, feeling the heat of her tiny body pressed against his as he sat back down in the rocking chair, resting her head on his shoulder. “Don’t cry, pollita, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” 

After a few seconds of whispered reassurances and gentle rocks back and forth, Javi let out a quiet sigh of relief as Lucy’s cries began to lessen, slowly fading from wails to muffled tears against Javi’s chest. 

“That’s it, see, it’s okay, baby girl.” Javi softly smiled, pressing a tender kiss into Lucy’s soft hair before reaching over to the small bookshelf next to the rocking chair, pulling a well loved copy of “Goodnight Moon” into his lap, trying his best to maneuver it open to the first page with his one free hand. “You never got to meet your Grandma Lucia, but that’s who you’re named after. A long time ago, this was Daddy’s favorite book to listen to her read. This is his book when he was a little boy, and now I’m so happy it gets to be yours.” Almost as if little Lucy knew, her crying began to calm even more to listen to her dad as he began to read. 

“In the great green room, there was a telephone, and a red balloon and a picture of…” 

As Javi began to read each page, Lucy became quieter and quieter, and by the time they had said goodnight to kittens and mittens, and clocks and socks, Little Lucy was sound asleep on Javi’s chest, her soft snores rumbling on his skin. 

“Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere. And goodnight my sweet Lucy Goosey. Daddy loves you so much.” Javi cooed, gently rubbing his thumb in circles along Lucy’s back as he tilted his head against the back of the rocking chair, the back and forth and weight of his sleeping daughter on his chest slowly just enough to the weight of his eyelids droop to a close right along side Lucy’s. 

After a long, hot, and much needed shower, you had changed into some new pajamas, throwing your still damp hair into a towel as you headed down the hallway towards the nursery, surprised and slightly concerned by the lack of noise coming from the room. 

“Hey baby, I’m all done with the shower if you want me too- Oh my god.” Before you could even make it all the way through the door, you were stopped in your tracks, covering your mouth with your hand to try and cope with the cuteness overload that was in front of you. 

There, in the corner of the room sat Javi and Lucy in the rocking chair, the pair sound asleep and snoring as Lucy lay against his bare chest, “Goodnight Moon”  half open and slipping out of Javi’s lap from what you assumed had to have been the book he was reading to her before they clonked out. 

Your footsteps down the hallway must have been enough to wake Javi to the point that his eyes began to blink open, scrunching his face in a half awake yawn as he recognized your frame in the doorway, quickly shaking his head to bring himself back to full consciousness, immediately looking down at his chest to make sure Lucy was still there before looking back at you and the lovestruck grin spread between your cheeks. 

“You two having a good nap?” You giggled quietly, making your way over to stand next to the rocking chair, gently running your hand through the dark curls of Javi’s messy, sleep ridden hair, kissing his forehead, admiring your tiny daughter perched on your husband’s chest. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, hermosa. I didn’t even realize I fell asleep.” Javi whispered, steadying his grip around Lucy as he sat up straighter. 

“Javi, don’t apologize, baby. I’m glad that you were able to get her to sleep for you. Did you read her “Goodnight Moon”? Glad to know it still works like a charm. I think she must already have it memorized at this point.” You smiled, picking the book up off of Javi’s lap, turning through the well worn pages, knowing how excited Javi had been to finally read it to her as he held her, despite all of the times he had read it to your belly while you were pregnant when it was the only ways to bring you some relief from the constant kicking in your last trimester. 

“Yeah we did, didn’t we, sleepy girl? Although I didn’t realize that “Goodnight Dad” was the last page of the book I must have been missing all this time.” Javi laughed, readjusting Lucy as she let out a tiny yawn, stretching her little body against Javi’s. 

“Well, if every time you read “Goodnight Moon” to this little cutie, you end up shirtless with Lucy asleep on your chest, I don’t think that I’ll have anything to ever complain about again, except for the fact I’m gonna die of cuteness. God, you two are so adorable. You have a good time with your Daddy, baby girl? I hope you know that you’ve got him wrapped around your little tiny finger, Little Miss. He loves you so much.” 

“God, you’ve got that right. Have you ever seen anything so perfect? She’s perfect, Osita. I love her more than anything. I love our family so much. Thank you.” Javi whispered, trying to fight back the tears welling in his eyes. 

“Thank me for what, Javi?” 

“For giving me everything I’ve ever wanted.” 

Taglist

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @pedr0swh0r3

[eternalsams]

Call My Name ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

warning/content: 18+, sexualization of women, cursing, stripper!reader, nudity, allusions to sex, innuendos to porn, reader's stage name is Bambi, reader is described to have beautiful legs

summary: the Daggers met Bambi that night, but you met Hangman Hungman

word count: 1.1k

a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into consideration.

masterlist

Jake knew coming to this club with his friends wasn't the best idea of the year but he also knew they'd have a good laugh in a few years when they'll remind themselves of their youth. The bright pink neon lights are inviting and calling Jake's name like he belonged to this place. "Gentlemen, welcome to paradise on Earth!" He exclaimed as he pushed the doors to reveal two stages with two exotic dancers. Two beautiful young women were dancing, never leaving the patrons' eyes as they swayed their hips sensually and smiling like Hollywood actresses whenever a dollar bill was throw onto the stage. The loud music was blasting through the speakers but you could still hear the men shouting for more and whistling.

Jake could see Mickey's ears and cheeks turn red as he realized how much skin he was gonna see tonight. The blond laughed and wrapped his arm around the younger man's shoulders. Javy was already on his way to get a good table for the four of them. There was only Jake, Javy, Mickey and Bradley on this boys night. Reuben had some plans with his wife and Bob immediately declined when Jake started talking about a strip club. Bradley was just following the group, discovering the place but not shocked a second. Javy waved them over and Jake thanked his best friend when he saw how close to the main stage they were. A young woman came over to them and asked what they wanted to drink. Mickey froze like a seventh grader discovering boobs for the first time on his dad's computer when he made eye contact with the barely dressed woman. He asked for a shot of tequila and Jake's eyes widened. "We'll take eight of them! My treat." He gave the woman his credit card with a charming smile and she thanked him with an even more charming one, making his heart swoon with pride. Oh, how he loved women.

"Gentlemen! Make now a round of applause for our beautiful and sweet Bambi!" A man's voice announced and there you were, pushing the curtains of the main stage open with your leg. Whistles started even before you could show your face of at least your upper body. The defined curve of your calf was enough to make those men go crazy for you. Your high heels were only accentuating your long legs. Jake was as mesmerized as the other men in the room, carefully watching you appear from behind the curtains. Then he saw your fingers curl around the hem of the curtains and your face appeared. And then he can't remember hearing or seeing anything else. All the whistles faded away as your doe eyes scanned the patrons, stopping a single second on Jake's table. The clear dress you had on hid nothing you were wearing underneath, the baby blue lingerie matching perfectly with the darkness of your eyes. But if you were to ask Jake, he couldn't even tell if your eyes were brown or blue because all he saw was the reflection of the neon lights of the club in your irises.

One step after another, you got closer to the center of the stage and a small smile stretched your lips as you saw the first dollars throw onto the stage. You knelt down on one knee, then on both and Jake could've sworn he felt his heart pick up when he noticed the arch of your back as you leaned on your hands. "Give me my wallet." He waved his hand in front of Javy, not even looking at him. "It's in your fucking pocket." The man huffed as he pushed Jake's hand back. The blond man cursed under his breath and took out his wallet, not even able to tell what time it was anymore, his only thoughts going to you in that perfect outfit. He blindly took out two dollar bills and slid them onto the stage, never looking away from you.

You noticed the delicacy of the man and grinned at him as you stood up and walked over to the side of the stage where his table was. You crouched down and picked up the bills. Your eyes widened slightly when you saw the two fifty dollar bills and quickly got yourself together for your act before blowing a kiss to the man who couldn't take his eyes off of you. You stood back on your feet and untied the ribbon keeping your dress closed before slipping the sleeves off. You let the dress fall onto the stage and directed your signature doe eyes to the howling crowd. From the corner of your eyes, you could see his friends teasing him and clapping his shoulders but the man's focus was on you and you only.

"I'm gonna marry that girl." Jake finally said when you finished your act and left the stage. The others looked at him as if he just grew another head before bursting out laughing. "Oh, fuck off!" He snapped before grabbing a tequila shot and downing it with a grimace. "Hello, gentlemen." A feminine voice called the pilots and jake almost spit back out the alcohol as he made eye contact with you, standing right next to him. He hardly swallowed his shot and smiled at you. "Hi! You were... very pretty on stage." He could only say, all his flirting and charming lines leaving his body. You slightly giggled and looked at his friends who were trying hard not to laugh at his lovesick look. "I'm Bambi." You offered your hand for him and he looked at it like it was made of diamonds. "Hungman." Was the first thing that came out of his mouth before he placed a kiss on your knuckles.

You chuckled and looked down at his crotch after hearing his name. "Oh, a fellow dancer I see!" You smiled and looked over at his friends once more. They didn't really look like the part, except for the tall colored man who was trying his hardest not to laugh at Hungman. This one had the shoulders of a stripper. And the one with the mustache definitely belonged behind a camera with two pretty ladies asking for more. You quickly glanced over your shoulder and saw two colleagues waving you near the backstage. You nodded at them and turn back to Hungman with a flirting smile. "Well, I hope I'll be able to see one of your acts these days." You winked at him and left the table, trotting back to your colleagues. Jake watched you leave with a sigh, already planning on what diamond cut would fit your finger.

"Hungman?" He then heard Javy's voice, popping his fantasy bubble. "Shut the fuck up, I'm a stripper from now on." He hissed and took his second tequila shot and looking back to the door where you just disappeared, his friends already planning on telling everyone at work he might switch careers because he fell in love with a stripper.

taglist:

@hardballoonlove @blue-aconite @callsign-hummingbird @roosterforme @jessicab1991 @atarmychick007 @callsigns-haze @els-marvelvsp @djs8891 @senawashere

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

good guys, bad deeds

pairing: javi p x f!reader

cws/tags: ONLY ONE BED, javi is reader's dad's best friend, minimal physical description (reader has pussy and boobs and wears a tank top and panties), p in v (unprotected bc ... i'm sorry), oral f! receiving, accidentally cumming inside, author does not speak spanish but wishes she did and researched spanish dirty talk but still knows v little, periodic pov switch

summary: reader comes to visit javi in colombia and he only has one bed, so they decide to sleep in it together and shenanigans ensue. it's wrong but it feels so right...

a/n: for the roll a trope challenge! @burntheedges

wc: 3.9k

taglist:

@gothcsz @onlyasimp4-2dbitches @harriedandharassed @withonly-sweetheart

join my taglist

Half the time Javi smokes inside out of stubbornness – he can still hear the voices of ex-girlfriends back in Texas telling him off for it. He has what he intends to be his last cigarette of the day outside because his apartment has begun to make him stir-crazy. With Escobar "behind bars", there's a brief lull in the DEA office. He's become so used to chaos that he thrives off it now.

A taxi pulls up and a young woman steps out - for better or worse, Javi knows a lot of the women who spend their nights on the streets of Bogota and Medellin. This woman is unfamiliar, though the look in her eyes suggests she knows him. He sifts through strings of drunken memories, but can't place her.

Until he hears her voice. "Uncle Javi!" she says, flying into his arms which are not yet open to catch her. He's a DEA agent, a young woman should not be strong enough to knock the wind out of him but you get pretty damn close.

He'd completely forgotten you were coming – but, even if he'd remembered, he wouldn't have recognized you. God, how long has he been away?

You look older. That's what he tells you later, trying to put it as matter-of-factly as possible, trying to sound neutral and indifferent to the fact that a beautiful woman is standing at his doorstep like a baby in a basket, helpless in a foreign world, brought by cab rather than stork.

Javi carts your luggage up the stairs and little does he know that you're practically salivating over the sight of his broad shoulders, his strong arms that could just pick you up and throw you onto the bed–

"Are you planning to stand there all night?" Javi's voice snaps you out of your daydreams.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. I'm so tired, I'm practically falling asleep standing up."

Jet lag can do a number on anyone, but it doesn't help that the flight attendants were happy to provide you with alcohol. You try to act sober, but Javi's a cop, he's trained to call your bluff.

You stumble through the doorstep and you hear him stifle a laugh. "Are you okay? You look drunk."

"I'm not drunk. I had a few drinks on the plane, but I sobered up at the airport while I was waiting for you to come get me."

You watch guilt wash over him, and you almost take back your statement, but you don't. It's a rare opportunity to see Javi flustered, and even if it's not for the ideal reason (in your dirty mind), you'll take it as consolation for his forgetfulness.

"I'm so sorry. I've been so wrapped up in everything here that I completely forgot you were coming."

You shrug it off, not committing to accepting his apology but not wanting to prolong his suffering either. God forbid a man has to take accountability for his actions.

He follows your gaze which travels across the living room, through the kitchen, as far as your eye can see from the entrance where you stand. "I would've tidied up if I'd known I was having a guest."

"I honestly expected worse."

"You think I'm a slob?"

"No, you're a man – a single man – and the apartment of a bachelor is never a clean one."

"Who says I'm single?"

"Your ring finger."

"Maybe I have a fiancée."

"If you did, I don't think you'd be so defensive."

"I like being single."

"I like being single too."

He moves swiftly away from the relationship status conversation. "Unfortunately, I don't have a guest room, so you'll have to sleep on the couch if that's okay…"

"You're making your guest sleep on the couch?"

"Oh, I assumed you'd be more mature."

"I am mature. That's why I'm asking politely and not throwing a tantrum."

"Fine, mija. I give up. We're both too tired to argue."

"We can take turns, so you can have your bed tomorrow."

Taking turns means Javi shares the bed with you.

He strips himself of his shirt and you struggle to keep your composure. You have a better view of his broad chest and big arms with him shirtless and you can see the trail of hair from his belly button leading down to the waistband of his sweatpants, and god, how you want to find the end of it. A happy trail, they call it, but what it makes you feel is something different than happiness, something impure.

"What?" He catches you staring. "It's hot as fuck in here, and it's my room. I sleep shirtless. Take it or leave it."

Take it. You want him to say it to you in a different context.

"Whatever. You better not try anything funny."

"What is that supposed to mean? Do you really think I'm that type of guy?" He seems genuinely offended that you think of him that way.

And, in truth, you doubt he's like that, which is why your fantasies about him 'trying something funny' are a bit unrealistic, but you let them run wild regardless.

"Chill," you say, "I'm kidding."

The truth is that you'd be perfectly fine with any funny business Javi would be willing to offer you. But it's late and it's your first night as a guest in his apartment, so you decide not to try to provoke him.

You fall asleep soon after you tuck yourself in beside him.

It's been quite some time since Javi has been forced to share a bed with someone. Outside of women who stay over - and women rarely stay after the act is finished — he sleeps alone. You don't snore or drool on him which was a positive as he's been with women who did both of those things. He's known sleep talkers and sleep walkers — Lorraine was the former. It isn't until the middle of the night when he's awoken by your stirring that he realizes how cumbersome it will be to sleep next to you. It's a queen-sized bed, which should fit two, especially when one of those two is a young woman. So, why are you practically on top of him? You've managed to roll over, sprawl out, and curl back up to restart the process. You always end up further on Javi's side, so he continues to inch away until he is forced to be up against you lest he fall off the bed and onto the floor.

He tries to sleep as best he can, and prays for the sun — something he's never done before. Javi is hardly a morning person. But, he wakes up again before his alarm sounds. There is one glaring issue, he finds.

It's not his fault that your ass is up against his crotch and that every movement you make inadvertently teases him. It's so unfair that you make him this hard when he can't jerk off. He can't because you're here. Doubly unfair since you did this to him. It's not your fault that you're pretty — too pretty for your own good, whether Javi ends up giving into the primal needs inside him or you end up with another man. Thinking about that gets him harder - not because he likes to think about you with another man, in fact, he hates it, but jealous fuels the fire inside him. If he let his possessive feelings towards you overcome his rationale, he could fuck you the way you deserve, and he's sure you'd enjoy it. You need it, whether you know it or not.

Or, maybe it's just projection, maybe hope. Pretty women make him weak. God forbid you find out and use it against him. Javi's the type to risk it all - money, career, even his life. Not just for pussy - because it's not about that anyway, it never has been. Pussy is easy to come by - in fact, if he gathers enough saliva in his palm and closes his eyes he can almost replicate the feeling by himself. But being with a woman, all soft skin, strangled moans of his name, nails piercing his skin, needy kisses, teeth, tongue, and heartbeat - he hasn't been able to fully satiate that need ever, and he doesn't remember a time before he was a tenderhearted soul in a soldier's body.

Javi could get himself off, it wouldn't take long, but the shower is in the en-suite so he'd wake you up if he turned on the water. Plus, it'd feel wrong having you in the next room while he did such a thing even if he tried not to think about you while he did it, even if you slept in blissful ignorance, pure and untainted by the knowledge of Javi's teeth digging into his fist to muffle a moan as he shudders through his orgasm.

He wasn't thinking about you until your body was pressed up against his own. He doesn't think of you like that, or at last, he didn't. Not before you came to Bogota, appeared in front of him so grown up that he hadn't recognized you at first. You were a girl the last time you stood in front of him, he remembers having to kneel to hug you when he said goodbye. Time has passed and you're fresh out of college now. A woman, not a girl.

He's somewhere between thinking and dreaming when you spring up in bed with a gasp, and on instinct, his hand flies to the bedside table to search blindly for his gun. Until he realizes it's just you. A harmless girl.

Maybe not completely harmless.

He places his hand to his bare chest as he breathes slowly, trying to calm down.

You look like you're on the verge of tears and it pains him. "I'm so sorry, Uncle Javi."

"Mija, don't worry," he says, rubbing your back to calm you, "You just startled me."

"I just had a bad dream," you tell him.

You used to have those when you were younger, he thinks, now I have them too.

"It was just a dream, you're safe." He lies down and nods for you to lie back down too. "I'll keep you safe," he says quieter.

You move closer, facing him, and he lets you because he knows you need comfort more than anything. Javi resists the urge to hold you, worrying you might feel his hard—on through his sweatpants.

He stares - no, gazes - at you for a moment, unsure of what to say. You meet his eyes with a similar look - inquisitive, though you're more curious than he is. Javi feels dread in the face of what he fears is unfolding. You see an opportunity where he sees a warning. Do not go any further, it says. But he hasn't done anything.

Except for lie down next to you rather than taking the couch, and sleep shirtless rather than sweat through a t-shirt. He's more angry at himself for his reluctance to admit that this is a self-indulgent choice no matter how he flips it. Either he's a bad host or he's a bad man.

The answer becomes clearer when you lean in and he closes his eyes instead of pulling back like he should. He doesn't want to embarrass you, he decides. Better not reject you, at least not like this, he should let you down easy. Which he'll certainly do after kissing you.

It's so unfair, Javi thinks. He'd forgotten what it feels like to kiss someone who wants him. Women want his money, at best, his body. Often, both. But Javi is the type of man who wakes up at sunrise so he can slip out before he has to man up and have an awkward conversation over coffee.

Cupping your cheek gently is certainly wrong but so is kissing you, and he's already doing that. He should kiss you sweetly, make this a little more dignified, salvage what's left.

Your lips are soft and it's not your first kiss unless this is an incredible stroke of beginner's luck. Hungry, yet teasing, forcing him to reveal his own desire when you draw back a bit and he has to be the one to reach for you.

He notices you drifting closer to him and before he can make things much, much worse, he snaps out of it and pulls back entirely.

"Querida, we shouldn't… It's not right," he says because he can't say he doesn't want you.

"Why? What's wrong with it? We're both adults, we're sober, we're single…"

"You're much younger than me, and your father is my friend."

"Age is just a number, and what my dad doesn't know, can't hurt him."

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, playing the whole thing off like he isn't grappling with conflicting feelings inside.

"You said you'd never lie to me, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Tell me the truth, then, do you want me too?"

"You can't ask questions like that, mija."

"Why, Uncle Javi?"

"That's why. I cannot sleep with someone who calls me 'Uncle Javi'."

"It's not like we're actually related."

"I know that. This wouldn't even be up for discussion if that were the case."

"So it's up for discussion?"

"No. No, it's not. We're not doing it."

He stands up abruptly, does a terrible job of adjusting himself in his sweatpants, and walks towards the bathroom.

"Where are you going?"

"Taking a shower."

"It's past midnight."

"Can a man not take a shower at night?"

"At least be honest and say you're going to jerk off."

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, putting his head in his hands. Then, he turns to you, "I'm going to jerk off. Happy?"

"Can I come with?"

"No. If I wanted you to be with me, I'd just do it in bed."

You pout, disappointed, and he thinks that's your last resort. He nearly lets his guard down as his hand reaches the bathroom door, reaches safety.

But, in a voice that's so familiar yet so foreign coming from your mouth, you ask, "You usually do it right here?"

He stares at you, his body slumps a bit like he's melting as he watches you play with the straps of your top, like you might take it off.

"Javier," you say, seductively.

"Don't do that to me…" he pouts, pleads. He doesn't want to give in.

"I just think we could have a really good time. I mean, I bought these panties for you, but I guess if you don't want to see them, maybe I can find another DEA agent who wants to…"

"I'm not letting you go and whore yourself out to my coworkers."

"Why not? You don't want me."

"I didn't say that. I said 'it's wrong', and it is."

"I guess I can see how it might be wrong from some angles, but I really like you, and I just want to know that you like me back — I just want to be wanted, to know someone thinks I'm good enough."

It's so unfair. Javi has to assume you're acting, but you're doing a great job because your teary eyes are filled with emotion — maybe it is real, he thinks. And that's what lands him back in bed with you.

"I like you," he whispers, "and you know that. I think a lot of guys like you… they don't deserve you, but trust me when I say you're more than wanted."

"I don't want any of them. I only want you." You look up at him with those pleading eyes that have always worked.

"I'm not a good man." he sighs.

"I want you anyway."

"I'm not a good man because I can't help myself."

You look at him with hope shining through you.

"Before we do anything I need you to know that I love you to death but this is sex, not marriage, not a relationship - I want to make you feel good tonight, but tomorrow we go back to normal, got it?"

"You act like you're taking my virginity. I'm not that innocent little girl anymore. I'm not expecting you to fall in love with me, I just want you to fuck me."

He has the knee-jerk instinct to tell you not to swear. but the scowl of disapproval quickly turns to a smile. You're not that innocent, are you?

You grab his face and whisper, "If I'm going to have casual sex anyway, isn't it better if I do it with you?"

"Oh, so now this is all 'casual sex', and I'm just doing damage control by fucking you?"

"My dad asked you to keep me safe, right? If I'm bed with you, I can't get in bed with any other potentially dangerous men."

"I'm always gonna take care of you." he says, dipping down to kiss your neck.

"Javier." It's a drawn-out plea for something, anything. It's the simultaneous gratitude brought about by the relief that washes over you when he agrees to this but the carnal frustration at the anticipation of him, heightened when you feel his erection pressing against your thigh.

You can tell he's big - though, the tightness of his pants leaves little to the imagination regardless. Nervousness strikes you because he's Javi. He thinks you don't know how much of a womanizer he is. As if you've ever been stupid enough to believe the marks on his neck were just razor burn or that he had no idea where the pair of panties in his glove compartment came from.

You don't dare ask how many women he's slept with, you don't need to know the number to know you have a laundry list of competition. You won't be his best - that much you know - still, you can't be his worst.

All your worries move to the background when you remember that Javier is kissing you, tugging down the straps of your top, kissing your neck, your collarbone, your chest. Your heart swells at his gentle devotion, but your core aches for him as your much dirtier fantasies flit around your mind.

You would never have guessed Javier would be into this type of sweet and slow sex. Most men you've been with want you in a way that feels more perverse, more distant.

Javi lets his hands wander along your skin, he teases you and marvels at your reaction. He doesn't just grip you, he holds you.

You shouldn't be as surprised as you are when he grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed before kneeling with his head positioned between your thighs.

"You said you wore these for me?" he asks, fingers toying with the waistband of your underwear.

"Yeah. I remember finding a similar pair in your car once, and so I thought you might like these."

"You'd look good in anything, but you did a good job picking these out. Definitely my taste."

"You can keep them."

His eyes flicker with something, something you've been dying to see. "What are you going to wear?"

"I have more, like, ever color."

"They're all for me or just these ones?"

"All for you." The statement holds greater weight than the thin lace fabric, and surely he knows that.

There is desire in his eyes when he flicks his tongue along your folds for the first time.

Javi decides that if he's going to indulge, he shouldn't indulge half-heartedly. He should not be doing this, but you deserve to feel good. Someone else should do this for you, but no one else is here. It's Javi's responsibility to take care of you. He's just helping you sleep, that's what he tells himself when he gets a taste of you and knows he's so incredibly and utterly fucked. He groans into you, and you return a prettier sound.

He's too old to be this hard, this hungry for a woman. The most unfair part of it all is that Javi doesn't need sex, he doesn't need the touch of a woman. He needs you. Forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest.

Your voice shakes when you say his name, warning him of your impending orgasm. He massages your hipbones as if to say, "you're going to be okay, just let go". You look embarrassed when you come down from your high so he makes a point of staying between your legs, locking eyes while his tongue gathers every drop you give him, and smiling when he wipes his lips with his thumb.

The predicament lies between his own legs. The question still stands stiff and painfully hard. Should he allow himself the pleasure of fucking up? Of fucking.

You notice his hesitation. "Javier, I want it too, you know?"

"It's still a mistake."

"Everyone makes mistakes… maybe you could just allow yourself to make one - for me."

Making one mistake surely isn't enough to make you a bad person.

"Don't you ever get tired of being the good guy?"

He smirks at you. "Yes. Yes, I do."

Patience is a virtue, and not one you have.

"I'll do it for you," you say, tugging down his sweatpants, watching his cock spring out.

"Puta madre," he says, as you stroke his length, running your finger over the tip, kissing it with the pad of your thumb, "if you keep touching me like that I'm not gonna last."

Javi stifles his curses in English, ultimately ending up settling for Spanish at the rare moments he can find words at all. Clearly he forgets that you speak enough Spanish to understand what he's saying, but you let him think you don't because the things he says are even sexier than what he says in your daydreams.

He drags the head of his cock along your folds, coating himself with your wetness.

"Que cosa tan linda," he says under his breath, marveling at your body, fully naked in front of him.

"Please," you whine, and he nods, silent but committed.

"Mira como me toma," he says as he eases inside you finally.

He keeps the rhythm of his thrusts slow until you beg for him to go faster. Harder, deeper, more, more, more.

"¿Te gusta eso eh?" His voice is thick with lust, he's not even talking to you, not really, just running his mouth unable to help it.

Soon, it's nothing but curses through gritted teeth accompanied by the slick sounds of your arousal.

"Quiero que me hagas tuyo" you finally give up the game when he's about to cum.

It's not the fact that you want to be his that takes him over the edge unexpectedly, it's the way you say his name and he knows you already are. You hold onto him for dear life, locking your legs around his hips and forcing him deeper, your inner walls flutter around him, and he is helpless against the tidal wave of ecstasy that crashes over him.

He's dizzy after you suck the life out of him, but his rational mind returns when he pulls out and watches cum drip out of you.

Javi panics, momentarily considers every horrible possibility and every solution - will he have to fake his own death and leave the country? But your soothing touch as you gently pull him closer, your relaxing voice accompanying it, calms him.

He buys you the morning after pill and feeds it to you along with the best breakfast he can conjure up as an apology.

You thank him, but just before he thinks he's in the clear, you say, "if you really wanted to make it up to me, you could eat your breakfast in bed…"

He's about to say 'no', but you wink, and instead, he says, "Fine. But just this once."

spanish translations:

Que cosa tan linda = what a pretty thing

Mira como me toma = look at how well it takes me

¿Te gusta eso eh? = you like that eh?

Quiero que me hagas tuyo = i want you to make me yours

this post helped me lots!!

[artist-issues]

just convinced my parents to come see Twisters with me (my dad loved the soundtrack) and more Nice Things:

The shot after the tragedy, first shot of Kate since the time skip, and it's a pan from her hand gripping the subway bar. What better way to communicate in a single instant, "it's been five year's but she's still in that moment, hanging on for dear life"

Storm Par's vehicles are all named after the Cast of the Wizard of Oz, but Kate and Javi's vehicle is called "Lion," because she needs courage, hello, but so does Javi. (I think the bad guy's driving Tin Man, who "needs a heart," but I can't confirm.)

When Kate agrees to try her experiment out and Tyler offers to help, she's like, "we're going to drop them right in front, we don't need to go all the way in, that's dangerous" and he's like "that's why we have to go all the way in!" And the whole time he's driving them in and she's panicking he's talking over her panic, describing all the true things about what they're doing: "extra weight on the chassis, augurs ready, etc." because that's what you do when you're trying not to act in fear—you focus on the things that are true instead of on the scary things that might happen. And because he pushes her through that she gets to see something she, the weather-lover, never got to see before—the center of the storm! And come out on the other side okay! That's wonderful! He literally gets her past the moment she'd never been past, in storm chasing.

The part where Kate is trying to get Tyler out from under the debris but she can't and then Javi comes in and uses leverage to get him out—exactly the same thing Jeb did to turn their trailer over before the Tragedynado hit the first time. Except this time, instead of beat-for-beat repeating the tragedy after the leverage-stunt, Kate drives toward the tornado. How great is that??

Javi says "you have a gift, we have to use it to help the people we love" and Tyler says, "figured college would be a better use of my brain [instead of getting stepped on by cows]" but there's this lovely combination of "use what you've got for others, and enjoy that."

Kate lets go of the steering wheel and lets the tornado toss her around only after she gets the barrels to release, and finishes what she started.

Tyler takes her bags out of the airport for her in the last shot. That's all. That's it.

[mothandpidgeon]

P Boy Podcasts

I was swapping podcast recs with @schnarfer and asked her what kind of podcasts would each of the Pedro boys host? (I’m a bit of a podcast junkie. I'm literally listening to one right now.) Well, we were brainstorming and I went and created episode art for each of their shows. Which ones are you subscribing to?

Nic on Nic Get a peek into the brain of legendary talent Nicolas Cage. Cage collaborator (and fanboy) Javi Guttierez is watching everything from Con Air to National Treasure 2. Take a deep dive into the films of Nic Cage and hear exclusive interviews with the man himself.

The Unfortunates There are spies living among us, everyday people living double lives. What makes them do it? And how do they keep their secrets? Each week, Dave York shares a true story from the clandestine world of espionage. 

Foundlings Din Djarin’s parenting journey has never gone to plan because he never planned on becoming a dad! Come along as he navigates the challenges of single parenting a 50 year old son. Each week Din leads insightful discussions with a range of guests— pediatricians, parenting experts, and  other parents that are just trying to figure it all out.

Declassified Drugs, danger, and dames. The fall of Escobar made way for the Cali Cartel. Hear the story from  Agent Javier Pena as he recalls the hunt for the Cali Cartel and reveals details that have never been heard before. 

Tales from the Green Ezra shares spooky fales of distant worlds on this anthology fiction podcast. All set on the Green Moon, these bizarre and enthralling stories introduce you to a lush world filled with intrigue and danger. 

Heist The Mona Lisa only became a cultural icon after it was stolen in 1911. Learn about the greatest capers in the art world with host Marcus Pike. Hear first hand accounts going undercover during his time in the FBI. 

No Cap 4 best friends chat about anything and everything. Hear Santi, Will, Frankie, and Ben give their takes on dating, travel, and current events. You’ll love listening to them react to r/aita. 

UNKNOWN ZONE Alien encounter? Evidence of the lost city of Atlantis? Ghost fucking? Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction. Join celebrity host Dieter Bravo for real life brushes with the unknown!

Joel’s Construction Corner Have a burning home improvement question? Or maybe you just like a southern drawl? Host Joel Miller has 30 years of experience in contracting and he’s here to share his advice with you. As soon as he figures out how to use this damn computer. Ellie does the ad reads with a pun for every one. 

Hungry History What does the invention of margarine have to do with Napoleon? Did Marco Polo really introduce pasta to Italy? Which Founding Father had a craving for ice cream? Follow your stomach to discover the origins of your favorite foods as we travel back in time with host Pero Tovar. 

--

I might've gone overboard. But I wish these all existed???

If you reblog this please rec me your favorite podcasts in the tags.

[heartsofminds]

my life is changing every day, in every possible way

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?” or It's Halloween, Bradley has a precocious eleven-month-old daughter, and he might be in love with her impromptu babysitter.

A/N: soooo here's a halloween thing that i kind of just threw together? i'm OBSESSED with bradley being a girl dad and just love this little girl i came up with (@gretagerwigsmuse knows that we love quincy in this household). anywho, enjoy some poorly written dadley and this super pointless halloween drabble? hope y'all had a good holiday and am sooo looking forward to writing more of this daddy/daughter duo !

“Whatever it is, Bradshaw, you’re not excused this time.” 

Jake Seresin slams his locker shut and shoves his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. The heel of his boot is kicked up, making a soft “thud” on the hollow metal as he leans his back against it. He crosses his arms to lie in front of his chest and adjusts his watch.

The small wooden bench screwed into the linoleum tile perches Bradley Bradshaw, who sits with his elbows digging into the tops of his thighs and his back aching something awful. He softly grunts before he turns to release some of the pressure there. The resounding crack it makes causes Jake to grimace a little before his face returns to the snarky default position it always seems to have. 

“I’m sorry I’m an adult? And have responsibilities?” Bradley rolls his eyes and traces his index finger around a watermark on the wood next to him. 

He notices his Nalgene water bottle sweating and subconsciously picks it up, using the bottom of his t-shirt to dry the wet spots it left in its wake. Jake and Natasha watch him without his knowledge and share a knowing look with each other, but remain silent. Sometimes it’s hard to determine if Bradley’s behavior is because he’s in a vastly different life stage than they are, or if it’s just a Bradley thing. 

Trying to figure it out makes everyone’s brains hurt so they often just let it be. 

The blonde groans again. “You say it like flying a billion-dollar aircraft every single day isn’t a huge responsibility,” he licks his lips before throwing his head back, “Can you take that huge stick out of your ass for once and let yourself have fun?” 

“I have a baby, shithead. I can’t just stop being a dad to go to a Halloween party.” 

Javy slams his locker shut and prances over to Jake and Natasha. A wrinkle in his eyebrows starts to form as he thinks over Bradley’s statement. He finds himself standing next to Jake; his stance is identical and his bargaining skills are tuned and ready to be used. 

“It’s hardly a party at all, man. It’s a costume, a couple of beers at Pen’s place, and maybe one other bar for like an hour,” he speaks and pats Bradley’s shoulder, “Live a little.” 

Bradley sighs; the puff of air housing a hint of playfulness and a hint of annoyance. He knows he’s already lost and that there is absolutely no way he’s getting out of it this time. And so help him God, he can’t believe he’s thinking this, but maybe what Jake and Javy are saying doesn’t sound like too bad of a plan. 

It would be good for him. It would be good them. It would be good for Quincy, and if any of the parenting magazine articles (that he’s kind of ashamed to have budgeted for paying for the subscriptions, if he’s being honest) had anything to say about it, children thrive when their parents are thriving. 

Besides, Penny and Mav have kinda been on his ass about it. Because yeah, she goes to daycare during the day and yes, she’s technically been around other kids and for sure has had her share of being around adults, but she’s one anxious biting attack away from being kicked out of daycare and all the people Bradley trusts (outside of Miss Charlene at the daycare who is a friend of Penny’s and was his babysitter when he was small) are up in the sky so he’s really running himself dry with options. 

Natasha calls it separation anxiety but Bradley calls it a bond. Which is true, Nat had agreed, but it wasn’t just about Quincy being attached. It was also about Bradley being just as attached, if not more. 

In the eleven months that Quincy Elaine Bradshaw had been on this Earth, Bradley hadn’t left her side for longer than four hours at a time. 

And he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s never really had anyone to call his own before or if it’s a “Papa Bear” thing or if there’s some unexplained biological phenomena that won’t allow him to be away from his daughter without spiraling, but he hardly thinks its a problem. . . .

Except when he leaves on his lunch break to go see her at daycare and she’s in a fit of hysterics whenever his hour break is up and he has to return to work. Or when she’s eleven months old and has never slept by herself in her own room before (which is why his back is so fucked, but he’ll never admit it). Or when she’s biting kids and teachers because she’s so anxious she doesn’t know what to do with herself. 

So, yeah. Maybe it is a problem and maybe the root of it all is guilt. 

He can’t let his daughter out of his sight because he can’t help but feel guilty for raising her the same way he was and giving her a ghost that she never asked for – a parent whose approval she will always seek despite never knowing who that person truly is. 

Something about that makes him feel like he has to make up time for two as a punishment for only being one, and being the one who can’t provide her everything she’ll ever need as a growing girl and eventually as a woman. 

“I don’t know,” he says lamely. He wraps his finger around the loose thread on his t-shirt and pulls it in one fell swoop. 

“Okay, fuck. You need to get out. What do you need?” Natasha pipes up, rolling her eyes before sitting down next to him. 

He raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth to answer but she cuts him off before he can. “What’s it gonna take? Do you need a sitter? A lobotomy? You need to live a little, dude.” 

“Well, we know the sitter’s not the issue. The kid’s cute as shit,” Jake speaks up and Bradley scoffs. 

“She’s so fucking cute,” Javy agrees and Bradley has to hide his grin despite being annoyed. 

He helped make the cutest baby ever. Who wouldn’t be obnoxiously proud about that? 

“Absolutely adorable. People are lining up to babysit her,” Reuben Fitch interrupts and joins the group of aviators which further puts a pin in Bradley’s desire to decline the invitation. Rueben doesn’t involve himself in Jake or Javy’s bullshit very often, but when he does, it’s evident that the idea isn’t absolutely batshit crazy. 

Bradley gives him a playful middle finger before straightening his posture and coming to the realization that maybe Jake was right for once. 

“Yeah.” Holy fucking shit. “Rueben’s wife would put her in her pocket and take her home if you let her.” 

And the golden rule is that if Bob is game for something, then everyone else should be. So now he really has no excuse to not go out on Halloween night because he has the Southern Californian equivalent of the fucking Pope giving his two cents on to why he needs to go. 

Fuck you, Bob Floyd for always being the voice of reason. 

“See? Everyone agrees. You’re the odd one out so it’s only fair,” Jake taunts again. Everyone around Bradley seems to be shaking their head in agreement to which he realizes that he’s stuck and there’s no way he won’t be in attendance to the group’s Halloween plans. 

“But it’s her first Halloween,” he tries to reason, “I can’t leave her alone on her first one.” 

Javy sighs. “She’s not even gonna remember it. Yeah it’s a holiday but she’s not missing out on much. She doesn’t even have teeth yet.” 

Jake laughs sarcastically. “Q-dawg’s been chompin’ away on all of her little daycare friends. Haven’t you heard?” 

Bradley narrows his eyes. “Fuck you! I thought you left the room when I was on the phone with the daycare.” 

“Her business is our business now, Bradshaw. Aren’t we allowed uncle duties?” Reuben teases. Natasha clears her throat to interrupt him. “And aunt duties?”  

“Auntie Nat reigns superior and we all know it, but holy shit. She’s biting people? How is she more badass than her dad?” Nat goads and shoves the back of Bradley’s head playfully. She chuckles at how slow his head pops back up and he mocks her laugh and sticks out his tongue at her. 

“Guys, c’mon. I can’t leave her with a sitter on her first Halloween.” Although he knows he sounds silly (and he feels silly saying it, too), his daughter is his best friend in some ways. Despite her not being able to walk yet and only having a vocabulary of a few words, he can’t help but know how deeply he loves her, and how much everything about her matters to him. 

“Then don’t,” Bob says, “Just bring her to Hard Deck for like an hour and then you can run home, meet the sitter, and then meet us wherever else we decide to go.” 

And sometimes Bradley hates how much sense Bob tends to make and wishes that he was wrong. That no, the Hard Deck isn’t a suitable place for a baby, and no, there’s absolutely no way Quincy would keep her cool while being there during one of the busiest nights of the year. 

But he knows it’s a lie because her grandparents are the owners, everyone loves her and fights over having their turn to hold her or even catch a glimpse of a baby smile directed at them, and the fact that Quincy has been to the Hard Deck enough to have developed an affinity for diluted cranberry juice over the Mott’s Tots apple juice sitting in his pantry. 

“Fuck, fine. But you’re finding me a fucking babysitter,” he speaks, pointing a finger between Jake and Natasha before standing up abruptly. He turns on his heel and makes his way toward the door, knowing the only way he can make sense of the predicament he’s put himself in can be solved by seeing his joyous baby girl. 

The sounds of muffled chuckles and shoes squeaking on the ground fill the silence of Bradley’s absence; all of their eyes flitting to each other to decipher if they actually made the most stubborn man alive give into their bidding with minimal effort. 

“Did we just make Rooster. . .cave?” Reuben speaks, his arms coming up to cross in front of his chest. His thumb rolls his wedding band around on his ring finger as he waits for someone else to speak up.

“Huh,” Jake huffs, “I think we did.” 

“So I’m guessing the lobotomy is out of the question,” Mickey ponders out loud, “Y’all better know a damn good babysitter.” 

Natasha and Jake’s eyes widen in realization. They better find a damn good babysitter soon.

Carrying a baby is harder than it looks. 

Bradley swears that his daughter is an eighty-year-old woman trapped in the body of a drooly and overly excitable eleven-month-old.

It's not the worst thing in the world, he figures. 

But God, is she giving his arms a workout from the amount of times she’s tried to contort her small body to get a good look at all the ruckus and excitement going on around her. It’s when Bradley feels a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck that he realizes the costume he’s picked may not have been the smartest move; especially when no one seems to get what he’s supposed to be. 

Secreting sweat by the gallon seems like an unfair exchange to be dressed in what he thinks is the greatest daddy-daughter costume of all time. The flannel shirt he has on and the overwhelmingly hot coveralls to go with it was a good idea in theory (that theory being how frigid the Halloweens he used to spend in northern Virginia were when he was a little kid). 

He finally makes it to the saloon-style doors of the bar and is met with “Thriller” by Michael Jackson playing from the overhead speakers above him. Every surface seems to be decked out in cobwebs and dark purple and neon green spiders, and Quincy stares in awe at all the patrons meddling about around her before making grabby hands at the faux snakes dangling around the jukebox. 

She almost slips out of Bradley’s grasp before being wrangled back to a stable position by her chunky rolled arms. 

“Jesus, girl,” he gasps, swallowing the lump in his throat while Quincy giggles in his face. “You tryna kill me here?” 

“Well look who it is!” Penny’s teasing voice sounds in his ears. 

Quincy’s little eyes catch the figure of her faux grandma and she begins to squeal in her father’s ear before reaching her arms as far out as they can go; reaching and moving so frantically it looks as if she’s attempting to swim in midair. 

Penny moves closer to them and raises her eyebrows. Her arms instinctively reach out and she grabs Quincy from Bradley. Her fingers trace the burgundy felt of her costume before she tickles the baby. Quincy erupts in a fit of laughs. 

“What has your crazy daddy got you dressed as?” she teases, her elbow coming out to knock Bradley in his ribs playfully. “Are you an. . .apple?” 

Bradley huffs and rolls his eyes. His gaze instinctively lands on his daughter who clasps her hands on Penny’s face and traces her chubby (and insanely sticky) baby fingers across her red lips. She puckers her lips and chuckles to herself at Quincy’s amazement of red lipstick. 

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?” 

Penny’s eyes flicker between Bradley and the baby she holds in her arms. The splotchy rosy cheeks and honeyed hazel eyes tells the tale of twins, and she’s reminded of the little boy she used to casually see around Fightertown all those years ago dressed in different variants of the same dinosaur on Halloween. 

“Sweetheart, you’re saying it like it was the most obvious thing in the world,” she starts, simultaneously giving her attention to Quincy and the million and one different things going on around her, “I almost thought she was one of the cement balls outside of Target but realized the red was too dark.” 

He groans, his eyebrows furrowing together and a slight scowl forming on his face. Penny’s heart is warmed because his daughter has a propensity to make the same face when she’s frustrated. 

A beat absent of dialouge passes. Hoots and hollers fill the silence as well as strangers stopping by to coo at Quincy before being on their way to the pool table of their desire. Quincy babbles and talks as if she’s a lawyer prosecuting a case and Bradley’s heart softens at how animated she is. 

Her awkward tongue pushes out more saliva than what would be socially acceptable and the drool begins to gather on her face. He reaches out and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of his flannel while she flops like a dead fish away from the makeshift napkin in protest. 

God, this girl is so dramatic. 

“I handmade it,” he says softly. He runs a dry part of his sleeve across her lips more firmly to ensure he had gotten all the wetness. 

Penny hums in acknowledgement. “And you did good.” 

And he doesn’t know why he’s expecting it; why he’s waiting on Penny (of all people) to see him picking a scab and rub more salt in the wound. He knows that she would never do that and he knows that most of the people (if not all of the people who he considers close to him) see him that way. He knows that people know he’s trying his best and that he’s doing everything he can. 

Bradley knows but he just can’t make himself feel it, and he can never figure out why. 

Maybe it’s because he’s a single dad. Maybe it’s because he’s a single dad without a “real” mom or dad to show him the way. Maybe it’s because he’s finally gotten used to having someone around who relies on him and needs him and loves him unconditionally, and he’s terrified of doing something that will make her sit on a couch in a therapist office and say the words that he’s trying his best to avoid: “My dad doesn’t love me enough.” 

Bradley knows what it feels like to not be loved enough. Bradley knows what it feels like to not be liked enough. But Bradley doesn’t know what it feels like to not try hard enough, and that is something he is determined to never stop doing when it comes to his baby. 

“You’re saying it like I didn’t though.” 

Penny’s face falls and she shifts her gaze from Bradley’s daughter to him. 

“Oh, Bradley,” she sighs, her open palm coming up to cup his face, “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re an amazing dad and you’re doing a fantastic job.” 

He grabs her hand with his and gives her a weak smile in return. 

“Doesn’t feel like it, though.” 

He’s usually not one for feeling sorry for himself. He’s never been too keen on throwing pity parties and inviting everyone he knows to them, and in all actuality, he doesn’t know why this bid for reassurance that he’s serving Penny is even coming up. 

“No. Stop it. No,” she playfully chides, tickling Quincy to make her erupt into a ball of silent baby chuckles. “You’re an amazing dad and everyone knows it. You’re her world and that’s all that matters.” 

Bradley opens his mouth to respond but can’t find the words to accept her compliment. He simply nods his head before the already loud noise of the bar is split by an even louder whistle. 

His neck cranes around to see his group of friends waving him over to the pool table and the anchored weight of doom starts to sink in his stomach. He remains frozen with his hands in his pockets and his body emitting heat from his personal heater of rubber waders. He feels like a seven year old at the park again; his mother standing before him and wordlessly encouraging him to go play and make friends. 

The high pitched scream of his daughter is heard as Maverick approaches. Both Penny and Bradley wince more and watch as his daughter mindlessly babbles and almost flies out of Penny’s grasp in favor of him. 

Pete smiles to himself before grabbing her from Penny. She rolls her eyes at him and he playfully sticks out his tongue. 

“Like father, like daughter,” he says, “M’never not a Bradshaw kid’s favorite.” Quincy sticks her chubby fingers near Maverick’s mouth and squeals as he pretends to bite them. 

“Did the past fifteen years just. . .not happen?” Bradley quips. In the past, the snarky comment would have made Maverick freeze on the spot but since they’ve repaired their relationship, (and Quincy’s frequent stays at Nana Pen and Papa Mav’s on the weekends) the insult rolls off Maverick’s shoulders into oblivion. 

“You’re making fun of the old timer, but I’ve been havin’ myself a grand ole time and you’re in the corner pouting like you’re in timeout,” he comments back, “Don’t you have friends or something?” 

“I’m just – taking my time to get over there.” They all look as Jake lets out an obnoxiously loud holler after hitting the eight ball into the pocket to win his pool game. “M’trying to choose joy tonight.” 

“And choosing bad costumes too.” Maverick holds his granddaughter out in front of him to get a full fledged look at her costume. She kicks her legs in the air gleefully before he pulls her back to his chest. “Who makes their kid the…Target balls?” 

Bradley lets out a groan and rubs at his temples. “Oh my God! She’s a cranberry!” 

“Love you to pieces, kid but I think you need your vision checked. You can’t put a kid inside a red sphere and call it a cranberry,” his finger comes out to poke his granddaughter and he’s met with a giggle, “A quack doesn’t always mean duck.” 

“Aren’t you, like, 5’4 –” 

Penny interrupts the conversation with her hands and quickly grabs Quincy from Maverick’s hold. He flashes her a small pout and is met with the ice cold glare of his girlfriend. 

“Bradley, go talk to your friends, babe. We’ll bring her over in a second,” she says, squeezing Pete’s bicep to drag him with her to the bar. 

“But –” they both begin to complain in unison. Penny gives them a pointed look that immediately shuts them both up. 

“Let’s go get some cranberry juice! How does that sound?” she asks Quincy who begins to smile and clap her hands in approval. Penny turns on her heel to head to the back while Maverick stands frozen in front of his nephew. 

“Do you really think I’m only 5’4?” he meekly asks, genuine concern covering his face. 

Bradley shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. The paper  “Ocean Spray” label he’s taped onto his waders bends and he mentally cringes at the crease he knows will probably be there. 

“I mean, sometimes when you turn to the side it’s hard to imagine that you’re actually 5’7.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“I said, let’s go get some juice!” Penny’s yells, annoyance dripping off her tone. Maverick claps Bradley on the shoulder before retreating to go accompany Penny in getting Quincy copious amounts of diluted cranberry juice. 

With Maverick’s departure, Bradley realizes that he actually has to go interact with his friends. After all, they’re the reason that he’s here. But when he takes in the swell and dip of the loudness that is contingent on the World Series playing on the televisions around him, he wonders if he’s made the wrong choice tonight. 

He imagines that he would’ve taken Quincy up the street to trick or treat at a few houses before her impatience and curiosity made her lose interest in the activity. They would have abandoned trick or treating and ended up on the couch where she would be cuddled up beside him with her feet tucked somewhere in between his ribs (because she seems to have a talent for finding the most tender spots on his body to lay) and stroking the tip of his mustache with her perpetually sticky fingers as she begins to doze off. They would be probably watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown before her bedtime came, and she would be read three books, tucked in, and off to sleep before he caved and pulled her from her crib and let her sleep with him in his bed. 

While it’s mundane and certainly not what he would have considered the epitome of “fun” even two years ago, he feels a weird ache in his chest knowing that he’s missing out on that reality. But he has to snap out of it if he doesn’t want to be miserable and ruin everyone’s night. 

Besides, Jake and Nat promised him free drinks all night and they already found him a babysitter and paid her for him. He’s in too deep to back out now.

Bradley takes a deep breath before approaching his friends and tries to ignore the ringing in his ears as Jake and Mickey scream as the Texas Rangers score their first homerun of the game. 

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Reuben teases, forcing a beer into his hand that had been on standby until Bradley’s arrival. 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too excited,” he deadpans before moving around the group and telling everyone hello. 

He’s met with joy and little jabs about graduating to “old timer” status that he playfully ignores. Bradley knows that they’re all just joking with him and that they mean no harm by their comments. Even he’s slightly surprised that he went through with coming out tonight; not to mention coming out while wearing a costume. 

His eyes catch Jake slyly handing over a twenty dollar bill to Javy accompanied by a middle finger before he turns his attention to Bradley. 

He can already sense the half-assed greeting he’s about to get from him before Jake even begins to speak. 

“Got a lot of questions for you but I’ll start with this one,” Jake begins and Bradley rolls his eyes before he finishes his statement, “What the fuck are you supposed to be?” 

He groans before pointing to the crumpled “Ocean Spray” label taped to his front. “Fucking Christ. Does no one know where the fuck cranberry juice comes from?” 

Jake laughs before taking a long swig of his beer. His ridiculous belt buckle and cowboy boots tell Bradley exactly what he’s supposed to be. Well, that and the fact that for as long as he’s known Jake, he’s always the same thing every year for Halloween. 

Leave the Texan to always be a cowboy. 

“My first guess was one of the guys from “Deadliest Catch” but since you wanna be a diva about it. . .I’ll just pretend like the Ocean Spray farmer was beyond fuckin’ obvious” he takes a long swig from the beer bottle he has in his hand, “But that’s not important. Where’s our girl?”

Bradley sighs and looks around near the back of the bar where he knows his baby is being given the spotlight by all the older Hard Deck patrons that can’t believe that, “Little Bradley Bradshaw has a baby now!” He’s known that he’s always had a knack for attention, but his daughter lives for the limelight. He’s never known anyone in his life to be so incredibly outgoing, nevermind the fact that Quincy is already the life of the party and she can’t even speak coherently yet. 

“Pen and Mav took her to get cranberry juice,” he emphasizes the word and Jake rolls his eyes at him this time instead of the reverse, “They’re gonna bring her by in a bit.” 

Natasha makes her way over to the two men; extra smiley and smelling like she had bathed in tequila. Natasha always parties hard but never lets it keep her down. Her ability to drink liquor like a fish and be perfectly fine the next morning has always been a mystery to Bradley. She’s called Phoenix for a reason, he knows. 

“Bradley!” she cheers. Her dark hair is hidden by a copper colored wig and he almost wouldn’t recognize her if he hadn’t known her face so well. The green eye makeup and the plastic vines wrapped around her shoulders and legs cue him into the fact that she’s dressed up as Poison Ivy.  

“Hey!” he cheers back, matching her enthusiasm. 

“You’re the fisher guys from “Deadliest Catch”! That’s so clever!” 

Bradley’s face drops and Jake begins to lose his composure beside him. Natasha’s eyes immediately soften with worry and she starts to search for the words to profusely apologize. 

“No I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings! I swear it! I was just – I thought — I think that it’s really cool and the overall thingies look great on you! I’m so sorry,” she word vomits and Jake continues to laugh hysterically. 

“Nat, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” he speaks gently, “Just calm down a little.” 

She takes a deep breath and Bradley can physically see her brain wipe the incident away as if it had never happened. He’s been her best friend for years and knows what she looks like when she’s close to being black out drunk. There’s maybe a thirty-five percent chance she even remembers this interaction at all. She blinks blankly at him before getting distracted by the baseball game and almost topples over with how fast she turned her head. 

Jake lightly smacks Bradley’s chest with the back of his hand. “I’m gonna go grab her a water. You want anything?” he asks, gently. He doesn’t want Natasha to overhear him because they both know that she’ll refuse his help no matter what state she’s in. 

He shakes his head “no” before hearing the clunk of his boots carrying him to the bar, leaving him and Natsaha alone in the pocket of the bar that their friend group has claimed as their own.

Natasha’s eyes follow Jake’s path to the bar and Bradley has to hide his grin and hold his tongue to not set her off while she’s so vulnerable. Natasha has always been the tiniest bit sweet on Jake but is too stubborn to admit it. Even with all the logical circuits in her brain turned off, she refuses to let herself ponder on this fact for longer than a few seconds. She catches herself staring at the blonde in a half-assed Halloween costume before she returns her attention to Bradley. 

And just as expected, she changes the subject as if their earlier conversation had never even happened. 

“Where’s Quincy Wincey?” she asks and Bradley chuckles. 

Even with no coherent thoughts in mind, Natasha still loves his daughter and wants nothing more than to see her. 

“She’s behind the bar with Pen and Mav. She’ll be here shortly.” 

Natasha nods before opening her mouth again. “You know, you’re a great dad, B.” 

Her sudden revelation takes the words out of Bradley’s mouth. He’s known Natasha Trace for nearly fifteen years and he has never known her to give out genuine compliments half-assed. He has half the mind to ask her what she means by it, but knows that it’s no use given the state she’s in. 

All that matters is that she really means it, so he settles for a simple “Thank you” instead. 

Jake announces his return by forcing a cup of ice water into Natasha’s hand which she gripes about but begins to drink anyway. 

“Your daughter’s back there chummin’ it up, by the way,” Jake states simply and Bradley pauses. 

“What do you mean?” His hands come out to rest on his hips. 

“Well, for starters,” he begins, unwrapping a toothpick and putting it in his mouth, “She’s got people handing her candy and peanuts into a little paper bag. She’s being pretty efficient about it if I say so myself. Had half the mind to grab her from Mav while I was up there cause I wanna see her, but I didn’t wanna get in the way of her business efforts.” 

“She’s what?” 

“Paper bag. Candy. Peanuts,” Jake lists, “C’mon, man. Keep up!” 

Bradley stalks toward the bar to go get his daughter. He’s not angry, in any sense of the word, but kind of disappointed given that she’s technically trick or treating for the first time and he’s not there to witness it. Part of him is starting to feel restless at his lack of interaction with her and wants her back in his arms immediately. 

“Hey, don’t insert yourself in her business endeavors! Be happy your daughter is likable. We all know she doesn’t get it from you,” Jake shouts before returning his attention to the World Series playing out in front of him. 

By the time Bradley arrives to the bar top, he takes note of exactly what Jake had seen upon his visit. There is his daughter with ruddy cheeks and a toothy grin absolutely hamming up her cuteness at some captains and their wives with Maverick holding her up so she can stand semi-confidently on the table. Her little fist holds a brown paper bag that Penny uses for her peanuts and is full with candy and crinkled due to her lack of a proper graspar reflex. 

His daughter is a world class charmer and she has an equally charming grandpa to help her do her bidding. 

“Bradley!” Maverick cheers, turning Quincy his direction so that she can have eyes on her dad. 

Like magic, she abandons the little bag she was holding in favor of the arms of her father. He grabs her without hesitation and she glues herself to his side as if it’s her permanent position. 

“You better not be making my baby a con artist, Mav,” he weakly threatens. He coos at Quincy and marvels in the way she lays her head on his shoulder. 

“Hardly. She’s a people magnet, kid. Everyone would be happy to do anything she wanted them to do.” 

Bradley sighs, knowing that he’s missed one of her milestones. This is the price he’ll have to pay forever with being a more than single parent with the kind of job he has. He swallows the disappointment down and saves it for later. He knows that it’ll come up another time anyway, so why even bother with addressing it now? 

“You’re treating my kid like a Kennedy, Mav. Don’t get any ideas on how to sneak her onto base to get you out of trouble.” 

Pete laughs and holds up his hands in defeat. “Can��t make any promises,” he simply says, “Don’t you have to go meet the sitter soon?” 

Bradley groans at the gentle reminder his uncle is giving him. Maverick doesn’t know what it’s like to be a parent in the slightest, but he knows what good parenting looks like. He had seen it with Goose and how much he had cared for Bradley in the very short amount of time he was given, there’s no doubt in his mind that Bradley is the best dad that Quincy could ever ask for. 

But what he also knows is how perfectionistic and borderline obsessive his nephew can be. He deserves a break and a break Maverick knows will be spent in good company with people who love him. 

Bradley deserves this, and he knows that Mav’s gentle reminder is more of an order telling him to be kind to himself. 

He looks down at his watch and sees the little hand inching towards the eight. “Yeah. We need to get going.” 

Pete leans over and gives Quincy a kiss on the head as a “goodbye” before shoving the paper bag of candy into her father’s hand. 

He closes his hand around Bradley’s fist and gives it a firm shake. “Have fun tonight. You deserve it.” 

Bradley nods before bidding goodbye to Penny who is beyond excited at the idea of Bradley finally going out, baby free, for the first time since he found out he was going to be a father. 

And when his daughter incoherently hums along to “The Girl is Mine” by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney in the backseat, Bradley knows how hard leaving her alone tonight is truly going to be. 

She shouts at him which he knows is her trying to get his attention to sing along with her. 

“You ready, babe?” he asks, eyes flitting up to peek at her in his rearview mirror, “Because, the doggone girl is mine.” 

Quincy bursts into a fit of baby giggles as he tries to ignore the feeling of impending doom brewing in his chest. He grabs a piece of chalky bubble gum from her candy bag and pops it in his mouth. He cringes as he chews. 

Who the fuck gives gum to a baby? 

Bradley doesn’t know why his heart is pounding out of his chest. 

He knows that he’ll only be gone for two hours maximum and that Quincy will probably sleep the entire time anyway. She may be precocious and charming, but she loves bedtime more than anything, and from the active night she’s had, he’d be surprised if she even made it fifteen minutes before passing out somewhere on the living room floor. 

He trusts Natasha’s judgement (and Jake’s, he’ll begrudantly admit) and he knows the sitter they found for him is nothing less than amazing. You’re a childhood friend of Natasha’s that had recently moved to the area and had been Jake’s date one time to the Navy Ball six years ago (which he had learned from an Instagram post dated from 2017). 

And Bradley will say he doesn’t know much about you (outside of his deep dive stalk that he had done days before, but that remains beside the point, he thinks) but that would be a big fat lie. He feels a little pathetic to admit that he had created a faux LinkedIn profile to be able to look you up and see your credentials as well as finding every mutual follower you had amassed between Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Bob. 

And it’s a little creepy, he admits, but he’s only just looking out for the safety of his daughter! Just because you know his friends doesn’t mean that he knows you (which he knows is wildly untrue given the overwhelming amount of Internet stalking he had done on you in the past week). 

Bradley is burning a hole into his living room floor by pacing back and forth with his daughter in his arms. As anticipated, she’s started to doze off and he chuckles to himself. Quincy loves bedtime and that remains uncontested by the way her little lips are pursed and she lets out light snores. 

The sound of a car door opening and shutting keys him into being aware of your presence and he scares you half to death because he opens the door before you can knock; your knuckles almost coming into contact with his chin had you not been paying attention. 

“Oh,” you mummer, “Ummm. You’re Bradley, right?” 

And you’ve never felt as dumb as you do now because of course he’s Bradley. You know what he looks like and the baby asleep on his shoulder and the last name “Bradshaw” printed on the doormat outside should be enough for you to deductively reason that that’s him right in front of you. 

Not to mention, you’ve been Internet stalking him and know what he looks like for a fact because of the amount of photos Natasha has of him on her Instagram and in her story highlights. You had always found him attractive whenever your eyes graced those pictures, but that’s all it was; a fleeting thought that was never watered and was gone as soon as it was there. 

But now that he’s in front of you, now that you’re getting a really good look at him holding a precious baby on his hip and somehow making rubber waders look amazing, your mouth starts to get dry and your heartbeat starts to quicken. 

“You must be the sitter,” he declares and he mentally kicks himself for how cold he’s coming off. His nerves have a tendency to put him into fight or flight and the pressure of being in your presence merely adds to that. 

He clears his throat when he notices your lips forming a thin line and rejection teeming from your body language. 

Fuck. Why do I always do this? 

“Oh! Uh – Come in,” he steps aside and closes the door behind you as you walk in. 

From what you know about Bradley, you know that he’s a single dad who had a less than stellar record for wanting female companionship. When Nat would come to Williamsburg to visit you all those years ago when you were fresh out of undergrad and working as a TA, barely scraping enough money to pay your rent, she would lay on your floor and crone about how she had a friend who never seemed to be able to keep a girlfriend. 

But he was amazing, she would insist, and he’s such an awesome person, she would say. Somehow though, Bradley always seemed to be heartbroken and searching for the next way to smash what little he had left of it into unsalvageable pieces. 

Even though that was close to a decade ago, you know that the fact remains true when you peer across the pictures in his living room. Photos of a blonde couple and a dark haird little boy that you know are his parents. Photos of him with the infamous and insane Maverick. Photos of him with his daughter, but no photos of him and his daughter’s mother; let alone a girlfriend of any kind. 

“So she’ll probably sleep the entire time. Don’t put her in her crib because she’ll scream bloody murder and not calm down for a long time so you’re free to keep her on the couch or put her in my bed,” he lays her down in the corner of his couch and puts the large blanket laying there on her lower half, “She’s allergic to strawberries but I don’t think she’s gonna be eating anything while you’re here and I don’t have strawberries in the house.” 

He pauses, wracking his brain for more information to tell you that wouldn’t just be him retelling his daughter’s entire life story. “Oh! This is kind of weird, but if she wakes up and won’t go back to sleep, just play “The Girl is Mine” –” 

“The Paul McCartney song?” you question. Your eyes search his face and are full of amusement. He can’t help but feel his chest flutter at the little glimmer they give off. 

Focus. You can’t flirt with the babysitter. What’s wrong with you? 

“Well, it’s Michael Jackson’s song featuring Paul McCartney but yeah. It usually calms her right down and she’ll settle enough to doze back off.”  

He knows that his daughter is more than quirky. Sometimes he settles for the word “particular,” but he knows quirky is the right one to use. 

You start to laugh a little. “That’s so –” 

“Weird?” he inserts, “Yeah, I know. I’m raising a sixty-year-old but there could be worse songs. Be grateful she’s phased out of only wanting to listen to “Break Free” because there’s nothing worse than listening to EDM on a loop at three AM because she won’t fall asleep unless it’s playing.” 

You shake your head and agree. “Well, I promise that we’ll behave ourselves and not get into anything too crazy. She’s adorable, you know, so if she asks, I don’t know if I can stand it to say no.”

You can’t flirt with her dad. You can’t be the babysitter that’s trying to get banged by the dad. What’s wrong with you? 

He chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll see to that. Her sitter is pretty cute too so I think I’d be pretty forgiving.” 

And fuck. Is he, is he flirting with you? 

You’re left speechless before his phone rings and he rolls his eyes before grabbing it off the entryway table. 

“Hang on a sec,” he says before swiping across the screen to answer. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Jake. I’m on the way.” 

He grabs his keys and starts heading toward the door, his cell phone wedged between his shoulder and ear and you have to stop yourself from drooling. “Calm the fuck down, dude. I’m leaving like right now. . .Yes, I’m literally walking out the door – Can you chill? I’ll be there when I get there?” 

He bids you goodbye with a simple wave before shutting the door and running to his car. The sound of the front door closing instantly wakes Quincy who shoots her head up and frantically swivels it around in pursuit of her father. When she can’t spot him, her bottom lip droops and starts to wobble. 

He bids you goodbye with a simple wave before shutting the door and running to his car. The sound of the front door closing instantly wakes Quincy who shoots her head up and frantically swivels it around in pursuit of her father. When she can’t spot him, her bottom lip droops and starts to wobble. 

She spots you and immediately lifts her arms up, telling you that she wants to be held. You graciously comply and coo softly to her and marvel in the way she instantly koalas to your side as if she had always had a spot there and had always known you. 

Part of you thinks that it’s fate. That in some way, you’re meant to be in her life and meant to stick around but you know that this silly schoolgirl thinking will only get your heart smashed to pieces. You decide to ignore it. 

Besides, Natasha would kill you if you ever expressed to her how hot you found her other best friend. 

Some things just aren’t meant to be. 

Bradley jogs into the next bar that his friends had decided to go to with a slight smile on his face. He scans the crowd and spots Jake and Bob trying to hold up a beyond inebriated Natasha. 

“You’re awful happ — Oh dear God. Don’t tell me you screwed the sitter,”  Jake greets and Bob looks away bashfully once the statement leaves Jake’s mouth. 

Bradley mocks him before helping them guide Natasha to a booth. 

“Can you ever just say "hello" like a normal person? Do you always have to be bitchy?” he remarks. 

Jake lets Natasha rest her head on his shoulder and looks down to check on her. “It was just a comment. You know we picked her because we wanna set you guys up, right?” 

Bradley’s world stops. He raises his eyebrows and feels his mouth go dry. 

“You what?” 

“I mean, she’s cute. She’s smart. She loves kids and she obviously didn’t vom on you from getting a look at your face, so I assume it went well,” he starts listing his reasonings on his fingers, “You also bounced in here like you have a can of jumping beans shoved up your ass so you’re giddy about something.” 

Bradley scoffs. “I do not have anything shoved up my a– Why do you care so much about who I’m seeing?” 

Jake looks at Bob who starts to shrink a little in his seat. He instantly knows that the set up wasn’t all just Jake and Nat. It was probably the entire squadron. 

“We want you to be happy, dude. I mean, this is a good opportunity for you and for Quincy,” Bob starts and Bradley knows that he needs to listen and take it into actual consideration if he knows what’s good for him. 

Jake and Natasha are class A meddlers, but everyone else getting involved shows how much this matters to him.

“You’re doing great and I know for a fact I’m not half the man you are, but you also gotta cut yourself some slack. You have to let yourself be happy, too. Life isn’t all just about sacrifice, you know?” 

“And we made a reservation for you both at that one rooftop restaurant downtown. There’s a $250 cancellation fee so you kinda have to go,” Jake adds and Bob facepalms himself at their friend’s lack of tact. 

“You did what?” 

“Also she thinks you’re hot. She texted Nat about you ten minutes ago and she’s way too drunk to respond so we did for her and as of now, “He totes thinks you’re hot too. Make a move when he gets back.”” 

Bradley’s mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the words to say. 

“Thank us when you’re getting us together about the proposal.” 

There’s something about the way that life flashes before your eyes and there’s never anything you can do about it. 

You can take photos or collect trivial keepsakes. You can talk about the events in past tense and have the story change slightly every single time the words leave your mouth. You can dream about it in watercolor memory and try to make sense of it all. 

But no one ever tells you what it means when you’re standing before your daughter, a dark haired beauty with such elegance and spunk that it’s impossible to put a label on it, as she embarks on a journey to truly be her own person. 

No one ever tells you how to cry so you don’t smudge your mascara. No one ever tells you the hole in your heart this day will give you but the rainbow of joy that supersedes it when it’s all said and done. No one ever tells you how all the times she had a nightmare or scraped her knees or needed you sit at the forefront of your brain. 

And when you stand before your daughter dressed in a white dress and getting married to the love of her life, you can’t help but recall the night that you fell in love with her and remember the little baby she was all those years ago. 

So around all the orchids and wedding guests and happy tears, you settle to retell this moment in the only way you know how. 

“The first time I met my daughter, she was dressed as a cranberry.” 

And somehow, that statement is all you need to explain the love between the two of you. 

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 44 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley swallows his pride and seeks out a conversation with Admiral Simpson, but he's surprised by the response he gets. You keep everyone on their toes, and you do it so effortlessly, Bradley knows it's time to go shopping. And he uses Skittles as the perfect cover.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

When Bradley parked at work a little early on Monday, he sat in the Bronco for a few extra minutes. He had just witnessed you and Noah making breakfast together, and it was making it really hard to be away from you right now. When he walked into the kitchen, you were brewing coffee and singing the dinosaur song with his son while the two of you spread that weird avocado stuff that you liked so much on some toast. He had started to love it, too, and Noah would eat anything you made. 

He removed his aviators and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was so much he wanted to get done this week, including looking at a few engagement rings, but he knew better than to make any sort of excuses to get some time alone. That had nearly backfired on him when he went to get Skittles. He was going to have to get creative somehow.

When he pulled out his phone to call the animal shelter about getting Skittles' cast removed, he froze. Across the parking lot, Nat and Javy were both getting out of his car. "Interesting," he muttered to himself as he watched his best friend groping their coworker, and he grimaced. He'd already seen too much. 

"Hello, this is the San Diego shelter. How can I help you?"

Bradley nearly dropped his phone; he'd forgotten he was making the call. "Yeah, hi. I need to schedule an appointment to have my dog's cast removed?"

"Oh! Are you talking about the Yorkie?"

He smiled as he climbed out onto the already hot pavement. "Yeah. Skittles. I'm hoping she has sufficiently healed."

"Why don't you stop in on Wednesday and we can check her out."

"Sounds good, thanks," he replied, following Nat and Javy at a very conservative distance. But apparently he wasn't cautious enough. 

"So," Nat sighed once Bradley joined her in the hangar, "you saw Javy and I in the parking lot." It wasn't a question, so he decided to just nod and roll his eyes in response. "Oh, come on, Rooster. I'm just having some fun."

"Look at him," Bradley muttered, glancing to where the man in question was smiling at Nat. "Are you serious right now? You want to make him cry or something?"

Now she was the one rolling her eyes. "I'm not taking advice from you. You're historically terrible at dating."

"I'm doing a pretty good job now," he said, smiling as he thought about you.

"You can't even get Cyclone off your girl."

Bradley covered his face with one big palm. "You noticed that?"

Nat laughed. "Everyone at the botanic gardens on Saturday night noticed that."

"Fuck," he groaned. "If she wasn't so young and so fucking hot, I wouldn't be about to embarrass myself by trying to get him to let me fly in the air show."

She just shook her head as she reached for her helmet and muttered, "Oh, cry me a river."

"Hey." Bradley turned just in time to see Javy greeting the two of them like a puppy looking for Nat's attention. He was honestly worse than Skittles at the moment. "The guys are talking about a beach day this weekend. You know, since the summer is ending."

"We don't need to do another beach day. We live in San Diego," Nat replied as she sipped the coffee she wasn't supposed to have inside the hangar. "It's the same season all year round."

Javy laughed like she was a comedian, and Bradley looked back and forth between the two of them, completely baffled by this dynamic. There's no way you and he made a couple this wild. 

"Yeah, but it's still the end of August," Javy said, now smiling at Nat as if she was the most adorable thing in the world. "Rooster, you can bring your girl and your kid. It'll be fun."

"You know what," he replied, "I think I'll go if Nat goes."

Then Bradley strolled away as they started arguing, because he saw Admiral Simpson on his way to the tower. He just needed to get Cyclone alone for a few minutes, swallow his pride, and try to head Jake off for the air show. The opportunity arose after lunch when Bradley caught him checking his phone outside the rec room door.

"Admiral Simpson, sir," he greeted before grinding his back teeth while he thought about you. "May I have a word?"

Cyclone glanced up before pocketing his phone, a look of vague amusement on his face. "Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

"It's about the upcoming air show. Sir. I was hoping you could tell me if you'd made selections regarding who would be flying in it."

His look of amusement grew. "I have not. I believe that was on my agenda for today or tomorrow." He paused before adding, "I've been meaning to thank you for that glass of bourbon on Saturday night. Woodford Reserve is one of my favorites."

Bradley remained unflinching. Although he had no idea what Admiral Simpson was talking about, he thought it better to simply agree with him. "Yes. The Woodford Reserve." 

He nearly took a step backwards when the other man started laughing. "You'll have to thank your girlfriend for me, too. And I'm assuming the reason you're here is because you want to fly in the air show?"

"Yes...sir," Bradley replied slowly, feeling very off balance now that Cyclone was being so agreeable. 

Still chuckling, he said, "I'll see what I can do," before turning and walking away. 

Once he was out of earshot, Bradley pushed through the door to the rec room as he muttered, "What the fuck was that?"

-----------------------------

It was almost fun for you to pick Noah up from daycare now. Not that you would ever admit that out loud. But the enjoyment you found in the way Casey pouted at you was a bit of a guilty pleasure, and besides, you got to have Noah greet you like you were the most exciting and interesting person in the world.

"Mommy!" he called out as he ran across the lobby and into your arms. "Guess what my craft is!"

"A dinosaur?" you asked as you shot an extremely fake smile at Casey before heading outside.

"Nope."

"A... dog? Did you make Skittles?" you asked as you put him in your car.

"Nope."

"The solar system?"

"Nope."

"Hmm. Will you give me a hint?" you asked, brushing his soft curls away from his forehead and giving him a kiss. But he was already unzipping his bag and pulling out his newest painting. There was a big, light blue shape that looked like it could have been Bradley's Bronco along with a man who appeared to be sporting a mustache. "Is that Daddy?"

"Yes!"

Then you noticed a little brown blob. "Is that Skittles?"

"Yes! She's his best friend!"

You laughed, because Noah wasn't wrong. Skittles seemed to love Bradley the most, and as much as he tried to fight it, the dog won him over. "She is," you agreed before buckling him in. "She's his best friend besides Aunt Natasha."

Noah shook his head. "She doesn't count, because she's an Aunt."

"Right, right," you said, not wanting to fight his childhood logic when Skittles wasn't even a human. "You're completely right. Should we go home?"

You started singing the dinosaur song as you drove, and because of a detour, you had to drive past the park where Meredith had chased you down. A shiver rippled through your body as you remembered falling and scraping up your arm in your haste to get Noah safely in your car. You hated coming home this way. There was a reason you never did it.

"Mommy, why did you stop singing?"

You glanced in the mirror at Noah's face. "Sorry! Where were we? The part about how the dinosaur stomp, stomp, stomps?"

Bradley was already home when you pulled into the driveway, and you found him dozed off on the couch with Skittles curled up on his chest. Two seconds later, he was jolting awake with the dog in his hand as Noah ran for him. "Daddy! I made you! Out of paint!"

"Cool," Bradley told him, pulling Noah onto his broad chest as well. "And how's Mommy?" he asked, his voice a little raspier just for you. "How was your day, Princess?"

You shook off the last remaining thoughts of Casey and Meredith as you leaned down to kiss him. "Pretty good." He chased your lips for more, but his arms were too full of Noah and Skittles for him to be able to reach for you. "Looks like you're still tired from the weekend," you said with a wink.

"I had a nice conversation with Cyclone today." 

"Oh? About what?" you asked as you started to head to the kitchen to make dinner. 

His expression remained completely neutral as he told you, "Bourbon. Woodford Reserve, to be specific." When you said nothing, he added, "We can chat about it later."

So you made spaghetti, knowing you'd been found out. You had been tipsy on Saturday night at the retirement party, but you were pretty sure you remembered what you did. Probably. You hoped Bradley wasn't mad at you over it, but he seemed to be in a good mood as he ate dinner and offered to give Noah a bath while you walked Skittles. 

She was stubborn for you at first, plopping down on the front porch and whimpering for Bradley while you tugged gently on her leash. "Come on. You're making me look bad! You were my idea. Mine and Noah's." When she remained in her spot, you had to reach into your pocket and say, "Treat?" That did the trick, and you got her to take a slow lap around the block with you while you broke a milkbone into little bites and gave it to her. 

When you returned home, Skittles bounded into the house to get to Bradley where he was sitting on the bathroom floor, looking comically enormous with Noah's rubber duck in his hand. You stood in the doorway and watched him automatically reach down to pet the little pup, taking caution with her casted leg while he rinsed the shampoo out of Noah's hair. 

"You want to go to the beach this weekend, Bub?" he asked softly. "With Aunt Natasha?"

"Can Skittles come?" Noah asked, and you watched Bradley place a soft kiss on his wet forehead that left you reeling. Suddenly you couldn't wait for Noah to be in bed so you could have him all to yourself. 

"Maybe. If she gets her cast off on Wednesday," he replied softly as the dog fully plopped down with her head on his thigh. 

"Daddy?" you asked from your spot in the doorway. It was almost a whine, and when he looked up at you, you were certain he knew what you were thinking about by the little smirk on his lips.

He reached into the tub to drain the water as he asked, "Do you need some attention?"

You just nodded, still in your scrubs from work, but you felt too warm now as you pressed your thighs together. "Yes."

"Fifteen minutes, and then you can have it," he replied with an edge to his voice. "Can you wait that long?"

"I can try," you murmured before you turned to go into Noah's room and get his dinosaur pajamas ready. Anything to expedite bedtime. You listened while Bradley took his time reading three stories, and then you kissed Noah's forehead before you tried to pull Bradley toward the hallway.

He chuckled and whispered, "I'll meet you on the couch."

"Oooh, the couch," you said before running from the room. Before you could even decide what you wanted to do, Bradley was behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and tickling your neck with his mustache.

"I kind of miss those nights when I would help you study."

You moaned softly. "Anatomy really is your specialty."

You felt him pull his right hand away from your body, but before you could complain, it reappeared in front of you with a bag of Skittles on his palm. When you spun in his arms and kissed him, you whispered, "You're so sweet."

Bradley lifted you up and took you the few steps to the couch where you settled in straddling his lap while you opened your candy. "If you're this excited about something I picked up at the gas station, I wonder what you'll do if I buy you something a little more expensive."

You met his soft eyes and leaned in to kiss him. "How much more expensive are we talking?" you asked, treating him to the orange Skittle you pulled out of the bag. He parted his lips and you slipped it between them, watching his jaw work as he chewed it up. 

"A lot more expensive," he replied as you ate three candies. "Hey, this is a 50/50 relationship here, Princess."

You shoved a small handful into his mouth and kissed his cheeks as he sputtered and chewed. "I'll share everything I have with you. Too bad I don't have much."

Bradley swallowed down the treat and reached for your free hand. "You give me everything I need. Everything I want, too."

You basked in the warmth of his words as your eyes closed, and a welcome heat crept into your cheeks. "I love you."

"Then I think you'll love what I'm planning on buying for you," he whispered as his mustache grazed your chin and jaw. 

You grinned, hoping you already knew what he was talking about, but too afraid to say it out loud. So you pushed the thought from your mind and scooted a little closer toward him on his lap. "What's this I'm hearing about a beach day? And Skittles getting her cast off? This is all news to me."

He didn't miss a beat as he wrapped his big hands around your hips and said, "What's this I'm hearing about some bourbon at the retirement party? It's all news to me."

"Oh," you whispered softly before eating more Skittles, buying yourself a little time to think. "Well, you see... I wasn't exactly sober."

"You're joking," he deadpanned. 

You rolled your eyes and shoved more candy into his mouth. "I may have had a glass of bourbon sent over to Admiral Simpson, courtesy of Lieutenant Bradshaw and his girlfriend..."

After a few quiet blinks, Bradley's head tipped back in laughter so loud that Skittles the pup came running into the room. "You didn't!" Bradley said. "I have to work with that man!" 

"Somebody had to make the big move, Daddy! It cleared the tension!"

He met your eyes, still shaking his head and smirking. "It also made you look like Daddy's good little girl."

Your heart skipped around in your chest at his words, and you set your candy aside in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck. "Am I not? Daddy's good little girl?"

"Oh, you absolutely are," he replied as he lifted your top inch by inch. "I just never thought my boss's boss would see it that way." 

You raised your hands up in the air, eager to lose your shirt, but he took his sweet time about it. "Daddy."

"You can be patient," he whispered, smiling when he saw your purple bra. "Pretty." Your top dropped to the floor as he cupped you through the lace, finding your nipples right away. "You feel like going to the beach on Saturday?"

Bradley's lips found the tops of your breasts, and you could no longer formulate real words. You just hummed in response already knowing he was going to take expert care of you right now and on Saturday as well.

"You could wear your purple bikini and tell all the other guys to fuck off," he said as he ran his nose softly along your skin while he unhooked your bra and let it fall next to your top. 

"Would you like that?" you asked as your fingers tangled up in his hair. He answered you by nodding as he took your nipple between his lips. Bradley was all big hands on your bare skin and just the perfect amount of roughness. "Oh god," you whined. 

And then he had you on your back in the middle of the area rug with his body over yours. His thigh was rubbing you through your thin pants, and you bucked up gently against him as his heavy weight pressed deliciously against your body. "I love you," he grunted as you tugged at his hair. 

"I love you so much, Daddy," you gasped as he yanked your pants and underwear down and off, leaving you in only your socks. He fumbled with the front of his pants for just a few seconds before pulling his length free, and you spread your legs wide for him.

His lips and tongue were wet on your neck as you held him close, lost in the domesticity of having sex here now. Just like your first time with him. Right next to the snag in the rug. But this time you could hear Skittles' claws tapping across the kitchen floor, and you could see some of Noah's crayons that had rolled under the couch while Bradley fucked you. You could smell the lingering scent of the pasta sauce from the dinner you made. You could taste Bradley's now familiar tongue as it met yours. And you could feel his rough hands on your hips and belly where he'd now touched you hundreds of times. 

You fell in love with the flood of familiarity he brought to your senses, and it left you smiling up at him when he broke the kiss. "Jesus," he grunted, cupping one cheek in his hand. You kissed the side of his thumb as he stroked your skin, and you watched him slowly come undone for you. "I'll get you there," he promised, changing his angle so he rubbed your clit with each movement.

Just like the first time, he filled you up as soon as you came, and your name was all over his lips as you smiled at the lost crayons before closing your eyes. Bradley collected you against his body as he eased himself down onto his side, and you sighed contentedly. You held onto his wrist as he ran his hand along your hair and kissed you. In that moment you would have agreed to anything he said. 

"Baby, I'll be a little late on Wednesday night. I have to take Skittles to get her cast off, and then I need to stop at the store."

You hummed softly in response, pressing your lips to his. "Sounds good."

------------------------------

The only time Bradley heard from you on Wednesday was when you told him that one of your patients came in with an emergency, and you wanted to let him know you'd be helping Dr. Kelly with a minor surgical procedure. He was excited for you, but he didn't want to bother you. Even though he had good news.

"Congrats," Jake drawled in the locker room after a very long day of flying. "Don't know how you managed to pull this one off, but I heard you're flying in the air show."

Bradley ran his towel over his chest before tossing it into his locker. "Thanks," he grunted, trying not to smile. He'd be able to take you on the tour of the hospital with him, and then you and Noah could watch him fly. His son had never seen him in the air before, and it gave Bradley goosebumps knowing that the two of you would be able to do that together. 

Jake gave him one last appraising look before he got dressed. Honestly, it was probably the fact that you upped the ante with Cyclone that Bradley was chosen over the others. Perhaps now things could be called even. You managed to keep everyone on their toes in the best way, and it made him smile even now. 

You were in rare form this week, luring him in for living room floor sex when there was a perfectly new bed in the bedroom. And then last night, you got him to watch a Disney princess movie with you, even after Noah was in bed, and Bradley had begrudgingly enjoyed it. You were laying across his lap on your back when the end credits rolled, and you said, "If you're a good boy, I'll make you beignets just like Princess Tiana."

Bradley had smirked. "Do those have cream filling?"

"No," you whispered as he eased your shirt up so his palm was flat on your belly. 

"Do you want some?" 

He had been thinking about getting you pregnant as he made you bury your face in the couch pillows to keep you quiet.

And that was just one of the many reasons he was about to leave work and head home to grab Skittles before stopping at the jewelry store across town. If Casey managed to bump into there and ruin this surprise as well, he would probably lose his mind. But the jeweler near the animal shelter was one of the best in the city, so that was where he would go. 

Bradley awkwardly held Skittles while he drove, and eventually she curled up with her head on his thigh while he sat in traffic. She seemed to be doing great, so he hoped that was a good sign that the cast could come off. You and Noah were delighted with her, and she somehow made Bradley fall in love, too. 

"Yeah, you're sweet," he told her, scratching her behind the ears while he drove. He parallel parked the Bronco with one hand while he continued to pet her, and when he took her inside the shelter, he held onto her a little tighter. It was hard to believe she'd been here just a few weeks ago, completely unwanted. 

Bradley pressed kisses to the top of her head as he waited for the receptionist to finish her phone call. When she hung up, she asked, "And who do we have here?"

"Skittles Bradshaw," he replied, nuzzling his nose against her fur and wondering how on earth he had gotten so attached to this little pup. "Hopefully she can get her cast off today."

He only had to wait a few minutes, and then he watched as they examined her before cutting into the cast plaster. Once she was free, Skittles took a few tentative steps across the exam table, and then she jumped right back into Bradley's arms. 

After he paid the monstrous bill for such a small creature, he carried her down the sidewalk, enjoying the cooling temperature as the sun set. When he checked his phone, he saw that you'd finally texted him again.

My Princess: Noah and I are going to play at the park near the beach. Leftovers when you get home?

He typed out a quick message letting you know that sounded perfect. Thoughts of you and Noah together filled his mind as he entered the jewelry store, and two women looked up at him and Skittles. "Is it okay if I have her in here?" he asked, but they both immediately rushed over, practically screeching about how cute his dog was. Honestly, the pet would have probably worked out better than the dating app had for him.

"What are you looking for?" the first woman asked as she petted Skittles on her head. 

A soft smile made its way to his lips as he said, "An engagement ring."

"Oh! Of course, let's just head over here to see what you like best. Do you have anything specific in mind?"

Bradley followed behind her as he nodded and said, "A princess cut diamond."

------------------------

A princess for a Princess. Also, there is no way Skittles wouldn't be a magnet for all the ladies. A big man with a small dog... just fuck. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 45

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[devilmademewriteit]

thinking about jealous reader and jealous javi

Jealous Girl

gif via @javier-pena

pairing: javier peña x afab!fem!reader

warnings: roughy sex/smut (fem penetration) so 18+ only content; fem!afab!reader; dirty talk; jealous!reader; jealous!javi; sort of dom!javi; allusions to reader having long-ish hair; pet names (baby, babygirl, hermosa, cariño); slut-shaming (reader uses the word ‘whore’); dubcon (no explicit consent, Javi is… forceful).

no use of y/n in this fic

thx 4 the drabble / short fic request!! once again this is FERAL !!! feel free to keep sending me lil drabble requests. they’re so fun to write while I work on my longer fics.

reminder that I am not using the taglist for these, but you can turn on notifs & join the list in my pinned post for my longer works !

-em <3

—

“You broke it off with me, baby, remember?”

What does it matter? What does it matter when you lock eyes with him getting head in his car, parked in some barely-hidden side-street, one block away from your dad’s salsamentaria?

What does it matter when, ten minutes later, he finds you, alone in the back room of the store, forcing back tears of frustration as your shaking hands busy themselves with fresh inventory?

You spin around, prepared to bark curses at him for trespassing into sacred, employee-only territory. He’s leaning against the door, beige suit-jacket a little roughed-up, hair slightly out of place.

“Glad to see you’re enjoying your freedom,” you reply coolly, mirroring his pose against the far wall.

He smiles. You’d known him long enough to recognize that condescending expression — the wolfish twitch of his mustache.

Toying with you for sport.

“And you’re not?” Javi asks, the casual raise of his eyebrows deceptive compared to the darkness overtaking his gaze. “Everybody’s seen you, y’know, leaving bars half-naked with guys twice your age.”

Always an opportunist, the agent pushes on, taking advantage of your stunned silence. “N’ you used to be so shy, babygirl.” A chuckle. “The fuck did I do to you, huh?”

You stammer, wanting to tear into him for his crudeness (though he was right — mixing the breakup with tequila hadn’t failed to strip you of your inhibitions), but the man denies you the chance, gliding forward in a slow, wide step.

Softly. “You wear my gifts for them? Let ‘em fuck you in all those lil’ lace sets I got for you?”

He’s close now, and you’re beginning to see red. This was part of the reason behind the break-up in the first place — neither of you knew how to manage overwhelming care without dousing it in cruelty.

Those long-awaited fighting words finally manage to breach the threshold of your lips. “Yeah, actually, I do,” you drawl, arousal levelled by a red-hot rage coiling tighter and tighter within you, “Ruined a couple pairs.”

“Bullshit.” His consonants slice through his vowels, accusatory and harsh. “Bet that pussy doesn’t even get wet after bein’ trained by me, does it?”

Try not to choke on your snarl, girl. “‘Least I don’t have to get head a block down from my ex’s shop — z’that the only way you can still get hard, Peña?” You muster up a daring smirk, shouldering his challenge head-on. “Hoping you’ll see me walk by so you can finish inside your whore?”

Bull’s eye.

“Don’t act like you give a single fuck where I’m gettin’ my dick wet, cariño.” Every inch of him bristles something fierce, but with skill and practice, he keeps his anger in check — maintains the upper hand — looming over you to consecrate the threat.

“Just pissed that I’m fuckin’ another bitch’s throat when we both know that’s what yours’s made for, right?”

The coil snaps.

Before you can stop it, your hand is in the air, gunning straight for the tan skin over his cheekbone.

In a blink, he’s strangling your wrist, holding back your palm from making punishing contact. The following pause is thick and heavy, quickly overflowing with Javi’s rage-soaked hunger. Dark and dangerous, the man hones in on your glare—

And speaks, voice low.

“Y’know, I let her swallow my load—”

“Let go of me.”

“—but you can take the next one.”

And then he flips you over, brushing off your indignant whine, flattening your back against his chest. Javi is strong (he always has been) and there’s no point in resisting (there never was). He’s unzipped himself, hiked your skirt up, wrenched your panties to the side and forced himself inside you in a matter of seconds.

Dear God, forgive me for getting my fix.

A big hand wraps around your throat while unforgiving arms form a prison around your body. He tilts your head back to face him, savouring your tightness, your suffering, and the strangled moan of pleasure dripping from your lips with his hips’ every rough throw.

“Always gonna belong to me, huh?”

His whisper settles over your skin, heightening that already-unbearable bliss. Your muddled mind and slackened mouth scramble to form words beyond full full full, yes yes yes.

“F-fuck you, Peña—” you spit through clenched teeth, squeezing your eyes shut in concentration. You fingertips grow sore, pressed to bruise along his forearms. “You’re worse than me—you-you know it.”

Javi responds with a tightened grasp and diligent, skilled digits falling to manhandle your clothed breasts. “Yeah, fuck you, too—” and it’s strained, etched with long-awaited relief, “—fuckin’ spoiled—jealous brat.”

An all-encompassing jolt to your system — he’s found that aching bundle. He carves words into your sensitive clit: you were never going to be anything but mine, mine, mine. The arch in your spine deepens; the back of your head falls helplessly against his collarbone. And despite yourself — despite his venom — you grin, catching the broken hallelujah underpinning every vowel, every touch of his desperate, repressed desire.

It’s a symphony you both sing, a thought hanging so heavy in the room it almost becomes a tangible part of your filthy entanglement.

“If I can’t have you, baby, no one else in this world can.”

—

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Guilty as Sin? — Chapter Nine

pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader

rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, professor/student dynamic, the gurls (Steve and Javi) are catty in this one but Steve deserves it, Javi has a filthy mouth, we get him to beg, unprotected piv, oral (m!rec), secret relationship/age difference mention, angst at the end but it's resolved

word count: 5.6k

series masterlist

Something was burning. 

The smell hit you in your sleep, causing you to stir awake with a sour face. You looked over at Javi’s side of the bed, but it was empty. You rushed to your feet, grabbing Javi’s robe and hastily wrapping yourself in it as you rushed to the bedroom door. You expected the apartment to be engulfed in flames from the foul, bitter smell, but were greeted with a far more amusing sight when you whipped the door open. 

Running around the kitchen with the urgency of a contestant on a cooking show, Javi and Steve tried their best to air out the smoke coming from the stove. 

“What the hell happened?” you asked, pinching your nose. Javi’s wide eyes met yours, a frown already etched onto his face. 

“We were trying to surprise you,” he said, almost bashfully. “But Steve took his eyes off the bacon—“

“I wasn’t in charge of the goddamn bacon,” Steve interjected. “I was in charge of the pancakes and look—“ He gestured to the stack of golden brown pancakes on the kitchen island. “Perfect.”

“I told you to watch it while I—“

“The hell you did—“

“I know I did,” Javi replied, rubbing his eyes as he walked over to where you stood in the doorway of the bedroom. He dropped his hands to your face, cradling your jaw as he leaned in for a gentle peck. “Sorry for the rude awakening, cariño.”

You smiled, tugging him closer by the belt loops of his jeans just to kiss him again. “S’okay.”

“We could go out to eat,” he mumbled against your lips. 

“We can’t,” you sighed, tilting your head back to look into his eyes. “Or did you forget about the whole secret relationship thing?”

“No, smartass.” He gave your ass a small tap. “I was thinking we could get something on the road.”

You raised a brow. “The road?” 

“Yeah, Steve wants to go visit my dad,” he said, suddenly looking shy. “Thought you could come along and…meet him, I guess.”

“You…want me to meet your dad?” you asked, stifling your shock. 

“Yeah, I mean…if you want,” he said, shrugging. “I want you to meet him, but not if it’s too much or too soon for you.”

“No,” you said, lifting a hand to rest against his chest, his heartbeat wild beneath your palm. “I want to, as long as your dad doesn’t mind?”

“He’s kind of been asking to meet you for a while now,” Javi said, biting his lip. 

“You told him about me?” 

“Yeah,” he smiled. “After our weekend together.”

“Javier Peña,” you crooned, running your hand over his heart. “A softie underneath it all.”

“For you,” he said, lifting your hand to his lips. “So is that a yes?”

“Mmhm,” you hummed. “Just need to go home and shower first.” 

“I’ll drive you,” he said. “Just let me help Steve destroy the evidence of his failure first.”

 After battling Steve for the passenger seat, the three of you headed out for Laredo. Javier stopped at his favorite burrito place and got the three of you breakfast for the road with the condition that Steve doesn’t, in Javi’s words, eat like a fucking animal in the backseat.

The two of them carried on like siblings, bickering and teasing one another with a playful undertone that showed the deep-rooted fondness underneath all that masculinity. You stayed relatively silent, enjoying their chatter while you finished a paper for Dr. Brown’s class that was due at the end of the week. Javi’s hand made itself at home on your knee, his thumb brushing soothing strokes against the ribbed fabric that sent a throbbing ache between your legs. He seemed clueless to the fact that all it took for you to want him was a single glance, that all it took for you to need him was one simple, innocuous touch. The fucking menace had no clue just how badly your body craved his, and if he did, he certainly refused to show you any mercy. 

When you stopped at a gas station in a small town off the highway you were offered a moment of alone time with Javier as Steve went inside to “handle business” in the restroom—you didn’t ask him to elaborate. 

“How’s the paper coming?” Javi’s head was tilted back against the headrest, the hand that was on your knee now resting against the back of your seat. 

You shut your laptop and set it on the dashboard before tugging Javier over the center console for a kiss. You held onto the curve of his jaw, your thumbs stroking over stubble as he parted his lips to move with yours, a dark rumble slipping straight from his mouth into yours. You let out a soft whine at the sound that only spurred Javi on, one hand coming to rest on your hip with a needy squeeze. 

“Need you so bad,” you confessed, nibbling on his bottom lip. Javier’s hand slid from your hip to the apex of your thighs, a soft sigh slipping from his lips as he let his palm cover your heated core. “Take me into the bathroom and fuck me, Jav.” 

“Jesus,” he groaned, letting you get your fill of him as you trailed your kisses down the line of his neck to his thumping pulse. “Not enough time to make you come, hermosa.” 

“I don’t care,” you said. “I just want to feel you.”

Javier let his head fall back against the headrest as your hand wandered up his thigh to cup him through his jeans. “Baby, shit—“

The backseat door opened, abruptly ending the heated moment. You both straightened yourselves in your seats as Steve climbed in with a bag of snacks in hand. 

“Got y’all some water,” he said, handing the cold bottles to both of you. “Since you’re so goddamn thirsty for each other.” 

“You saw that?” you laughed, covering your face with your hands. Javi pried them away with a smirk, bringing them up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. 

“This could be you if you, I don’t know, talked to your wife?” he said, shooting a glance back at Steve. “Jealous ass.”

“Just wait,” Steve said. “Eventually it’ll all wear off and then you’ll be flyin’ out to Florida to sleep on my couch.”

“I prefer my bed and the woman keeping it warm,” Javi said, lacing your fingers together as he pulled out of the parking lot. “And unlike you, I don’t let pride get in the way of that.”

“Javi,” you said, giving him a lighthearted scolding. “Don’t need to kick him while he’s down.”

“He’s kicking me while I’m up,” he argued with a smile. “Besides, Steve could use some tough love.”

“I’m right here, jackass,” Steve said. “And this argument ain’t my issue. Connie needs to understand that I’m allowed to make my own decisions about my career.”

“And she’s allowed to divorce your ass for not taking her and Olivia into consideration.”

“Who’s Olivia?” you asked, turning in your seat to look at Steve. You watched as his look of pride shifted to one of guilt. 

“It’s his three year old,” Javi said. “Who he left at home all because he doesn’t want to own up to his shit.”

“Jav, you’re treadin’ on thin ice,” Steve warned. “Keep my daughter outta this.”

“She’s affected by this, you fucking idiot,” Javi said, refusing to back down. “I don’t give a shit if you’re pissed at me. Whatever it takes to get you back to your family so you can keep them, I’ll do it.” 

“And what the fuck do you know about family, Javi?” Steve asked, his tone so calm it was unnerving. “Hm? All those years fuckin’ prostitutes teach you a lot about the family dynamic?”

Javier shook his head, his jaw clenching as he watched the road. You wanted to turn around and tell Steve to shut the fuck up, even if only for your own comfort. It wasn’t as though Javi had kept his past a secret—he’d told you all about the activities he got up to during the DEA and you didn’t judge him for it or the women he slept with—but the thought of Javier fucking someone else always soured your stomach to the point of genuine nausea. 

“I’ll drop the subject, Steve,” Javi said, his tone flat and sharp at the same time. “But you’re the one that’s going to have to deal with the consequences of your actions, not me. Try to put the blame on me, try to discredit me to my girlfriend, do whatever you think you have to do to feel better about putting yourself above your family. But when Connie and Olivia decide they’re done with you, don’t come to me asking why I wasn’t there. I’m here now, telling you to own up to your shit. Do it or don't.”

The rest of the ride was silent and tense. You busied yourself with your paper, Javi busied himself with focusing on the road, his hands tight on the steering wheel, and Steve busied himself with sulking in the back seat. 

It wasn’t until the three of you arrived at Javi’s dad’s ranch that the air between them lightened. 

Javi kept close to your side, his hand wrapped around yours as he walked you up the gravel path to the front porch of his father’s two-story farmhouse. 

“You nervous?” he asked in a whisper as he led you up the steps of the front porch. 

“A little,” you admitted, glancing back at Steve who was smoking a cigarette by the car. “You alright? Things seemed a little tense back there.”

“That’s just us,” he said, raising his hand to the front door and knocking. “Steve needs to hear the truth from someone. I don’t really give a shit if he hates me, just as long as he makes shit right with his family.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if we got into a fight and you just left,” you said, shaking your head. “I probably wouldn’t let you come back. Especially if we had a kid to worry about.”

“That’s not my style,” he said, lifting a hand up to lovingly pinch your chin. “I meant what I said. I like my bed and I love having you in it. I’m not going to fuck that up for anything.”

“Because you love me,” you mused, stepping closer. 

“Mmhm,” he smiled, wrapping an arm around the small of your back to pull you into his side. “First woman I ever loved.” 

“Shut up,” you laughed, giving his chest a playful swat. 

“I’m dead serious,” he said, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. “You’re the only woman who’s had me this way. Try and remember that the next time Steve brings up my past.”

“The next time he brings up your past, I’ll just remind him that I don’t view those women as competition,” you said, pecking his lips. “They all taught you different shit. In fact, remind me to send a thank you card to the woman who taught you how to eat—“

“Mijo,” an older, rougher, voice with a slightly heavier accent than Javier interrupted the filth you were about to say, causing you to turn towards the man with a wide eyed look of embarrassment. 

“Pops,” Javi greeted, chuckling at your expression as he let you go to pull his father in for a hug. 

“Chucho!” Steve called as he stomped his cigarette out into the dirt. “How the hell are ya, old man?” 

“I’ll deal with you in a minute,” he said, fixing his attention on you. “You must be the woman my son won’t shut up about.”

You gave Javi a smile, squeezing his hand. “I hope so, Mr. Peña, otherwise he’ll be in trouble.”

His father laughed, extending his hand. “Call me Chucho, mija.”

You nodded, letting him go off down the stairs to Steve with a finger wagging. “That wife of yours should kick your ass.” 

Javi let out a deep breath, relief washing over his face. “I haven’t brought anyone home since I was a teenager. Thought I was gonna pass out for a second.”

You laughed, hugging his arm. “Your dad’s cool.”

“Until you piss him off,” he added. “But I can’t imagine you’ll ever see that side of him. Now, Steve on the other hand…”

“He doesn’t like Steve?” you asked, furrowing your brows. 

“He likes him, but he’s big on family,” Javi explained. “And right now, Steve’s being a dick to his family.”

“Well, since they’re busy, why don’t you take me on a little tour?” you asked, biting your lip as you nudged your head towards the open front door. “Show me your old bedroom and all that.”

“Do you want to see my bedroom, or do you want to see my bed?” Javi asked, lowering his voice in a way that made you throb with need. 

“Like you’d actually fuck me with your dad and Steve here,” you whispered, licking your lips as you stared at his. So tempting, so full, so capable of making you feel good. God, you hoped he wasn’t bluffing. 

“Is that a challenge, cariño?” he rasped, brushing his lips over yours. You slid your hands up to his chest, anchoring yourself with your hands gripping the leather labels of his jacket. “I love a challenge.” 

“Javi,” you sighed, forcing your head to turn towards the men still locked into their passionate conversation. “Don’t play with me right now, I must be ovulating or something. I’m…needy.”

“Me too,” he husked, bringing his lips to the hinge of your jaw. Your breath hitched as he placed an open mouthed kiss there before skimming his teeth along the line of your neck, punctuating it with a lovebite. 

“Your dad’s twenty feet away,” you whispered, swatting at his chest. 

“He can’t see anything this far even if he was paying attention,” he mumbled, lathing his tongue over where he’d nipped at your sensitive skin. 

“Take me somewhere else,” you managed, half up in the clouds from the feeling of Javi’s lips on your skin. “Say we’re going to pick up lunch or something.”

“And then what?” he asked, pulling back to look at you with lust glazed eyes. 

“Then I want you to fuck me in the backseat of your car,” you said, gathering what remained of your wits. “I’m sure you know a backroad or two where we won’t get caught.”

Javier grinned, nodding his head before lacing your fingers together. He walked you down the porch steps, your feet crunching over the gravel as the two of you reached where Steve and Chucho stood talking. “Pops, we’re gonna go grab some lunch to bring back.”

“Mmhm,” Chucho hummed, a smile tugging at his lips as he looked down at your joined hands. “Take your time. I’m going to take Steve out to the field and put him to work with the cows.”

“I didn’t agree t’all that,” Steve said, holding his hands up. 

“Well, your wife didn’t agree to you re-signing, but you had no problem doing that.”

Javier’s hand never left the inside of your thigh as he drove you through a seemingly never ending labyrinth of dirt roads before finding a spot nestled in a line of trees, not a soul around for acres. 

“Get back there,” he ordered as he climbed out of the car. You bit your lip, scrambling to undo your seatbelt so that you could climb over the center console into the backseat. Javier opened the door on his side and slid in beside you, his hands already reaching for your face as you swung your leg over his lap to straddle him. He laid his head back against the head rest, studying you as you sat breathless and needy on top of him. “So fucking beautiful.”

“I need you so bad,” you whined, reaching for his belt to undo it. Javier sat back in his seat to give you more room, both of you watching as you took him out of his jeans and gave him a long, languid stroke. “Look at you…” You licked your lips as a droplet of his arousal spilled down his head and onto your fist. “You need me, Javi? Hm? Want me to sit on it?”

Javier groaned, his hands flexing on your thighs as you continued to stroke him slowly, his cock twitching in your palm with each pass. “Baby, fuck.”

“That’s not a yes,” you purred, cunt throbbing at the sight of him coming undone over your teasing. 

“Yes, baby,” he panted, his eyes lifting to meet yours. “Sit on my dick, cariño.”

“Ask nicely,” you said, leaning forward to ghost your lips over his. 

“Please,” he begged, filling the gap between you with a kiss to your jaw. “Want to watch you ride me out here in the open.”

You let out a sigh, tipping your head back to give him better access to your neck as you tilted your hips forward to grind your clothed center against his bare cock. “Feels so good, Javi.”

“Yeah?” he murmured beneath your ear. “You wanna come like this first? Get that pussy nice and wet for me?”

“Fuck,” you whined, resting your head on his shoulder as your rocked your hips, angling your clit to brush against the ridge of his tip with every thrust forward. 

“Just like that,” he murmured, hands settled on your hips to guide your rhythm. “Use me, baby. Doing so fucking good.” 

The only sounds to be heard beyond the birdsong in the distance were your breathy moans and Javi’s deliciously filthy praise in your ear as you chased your orgasm. Your hands gripped the top of the seat behind Javi’s head for leverage as your movements grew erratic and uncontrolled, your high within arms reach. 

“Come on, hermosa,” he breathed, his lips brushing against your ear. “So close, baby. Just keep going.”

“Javi,” you whined as your climax took hold, turning you into a crumpled mess of ecstasy on his lap. Javier held you tight, kissing your temple as you recovered. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you come,” he rasped, his hands sliding down the small of your back to slip underneath the band of your leggings, grabbing the globes of your ass to pull you closer. “Can you feel how hard you make me, cariño? I’m always like this around you. During class, when we pass each other on campus, when you’re in my living room building Legos with me at all hours of the night, when I bring you home to meet my fucking dad—you’re driving me crazy and I don’t want it to stop for a single fucking minute.” 

With furrowed brows and a pounding heart, you pulled him close, crashing your lips against his in response to his filthy confession. Pulling away breathless and dizzy, you lifted your hand to his face, dragging your thumb over his stubble. “I love you, Javier.” 

“I love you,” he murmured, turning his face to kiss the inside of your palm. “But if I’m not inside you in the next thirty seconds, I think I might die.” 

You laughed, sliding off his lap to tug your leggings and underwear down to your knees while he shoved his jeans down to his ankles and took his angry, leaking cock in his fist. You couldn’t help but let out a soft hum at the sight of him stroking himself, bathed in mid-afternoon sunlight that pooled in from over the treeline. “You’re a sight, Dr. Peña.” 

Javier grinned, his dimple emerging as he watched you climb back onto his lap, this time facing away from him. He let out a soft hiss as you wrapped your hand around his cock, dragging it across your wet seam. 

“I want to hear you beg again,” you demanded, your eyes locking with his over your shoulder. “Beg me to sit on your dick, Javi.”

Javier looked to be in agony, his eyes squeezing shut and head rolling back against the seat while his palms squeezed the soft flesh of your hips. “Please, baby.”

“Please what?” 

“Please sit on my dick, baby,” he managed, his voice teetering on a whimper as you slipped the very tip of him in and out of your slippery entrance. 

“You want it, baby?” you purred, thighs shaking from the build-up. Javi groaned, lifting his hips up to press into yours just an inch more than you’d been allowing. 

“I fucking need it,” he rasped, leaning forward to press a kiss against your clothed shoulder. “I need to feel your pussy. So fucking wet. Bet I could just slip right in.”

“Do it,” you urged, leaning forward to hug the back of the driver’s seat, your ass on full display as you turned back to look at him. “Fuck me how you need to, Javi.”

He let out a full whimper that time, taking himself in hand and lining himself up with your cunt before bringing your hips down to meet his lap in a hard slam. You cried out, the sound lost the wind, and held on tight to the leather of the seat as he guided your hips to meet the sharp snap of his thrusts. He let out a low growl at the vulgar squelch of your cunt with each thrust, your arousal only growing with every pass of his head against that deliciously destructive spot inside of you. 

“Listen to that,” he said, silencing your moans with soft shush. You obeyed, biting your lip to quiet yourself as he forced you to listen to the sound of your bodies joining. Your cunt throbbed at the filthy sound, Javi’s soft moans only adding to the jolts of pleasure cascading down your thighs to your toes. 

“Javi, shit,” you whined, reaching down between your thighs to rub some of the tension away. “Fuck, I’m gonna come like this. Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

“Never,” he rasped, doubling his efforts. The sound of his pleasure blended with yours in perfect, sinful harmony, his low groans and growls pairing with your soft cries, the breathy sound of his name slipping free from your lips each time he hit the perfect spot. “Come for me, baby. Come all over my dick. It’s yours, you know that? You can get it as messy as you want. Come all over it, every single day, whenever you want.”

You let out a strangled moan, your eyes clamped shut as you took over the pace, riding him with the sole goal of making him come with you. “Javi, you feel so fucking good, I can’t—“

“Yeah you can,” he urged, leaning forward to press his chest to your back, his hand snaking over your hip to replace yours between your thighs. You shuddered, something between a sob and a moan slipping free as he swirled his fingers over your swollen clit in time with deep, calculated strokes against your favorite spot. “Your thighs are shaking, cariño. Do I make you feel good?”

He knew the answer—he could feel it in the way your cunt squeezed him every time he moved inside of you—but it didn’t stop him from wanting to hear you say it. Just like you couldn’t help but want to hear him beg for you. 

“You make me feel so fucking good,” you moaned, teetering on the edge now. “I—fuck—I’m coming, Javi. Fuck. Please. Come—come inside me.”

“Ah, shit,” he dragged the words out, slowing my hips into a languid bounce as my walls threatened to choke him. “I’m gonna come, baby. Gonna come inside you and fuck it deep.”

Your only response was another cry of his name, your mind lost to bliss as he bounced you over his cock once, twice, before pulling you down to the hilt and filling you with a long string of curses and praise. 

“You fucking own my soul,” he said after a beat, the two of you still locked into place. He smoothed his hands over your hips before gripping them, guiding you into a deep, pleasure-wet grind. “We just stopped and I want to go again.”

You laughed, leaning back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you. “I think you’ll give me a stroke if we go again.” 

“We’ll save it for back home then,” he said, kissing your cheek. “Until then, I think we should probably hurry up and grab food before my dad works Steve to death.”

“He deserves a little punishment for talking to you like that,” you said, climbing off Javi’s lap before pulling your leggings over your hips, careful to keep the mess between your thighs from spilling onto the seat. Javi climbed out of the backseat with a stretch to his lower back, his dick hanging free and proud in the sunlight. You laughed at the sight of him rubbing his lower back without a single worry in the world for his state. “Put that thing away or the birds might confuse it for a worm.”

Javier snorted out a laugh, giving you a look of amused shock. “How dare you.”

“I dare,” you smirked, climbing out of the car to stand in front of him. You kept your eyes locked on his as you lowered to the ground in front of him, your palm wrapped around his half-hard shaft. “Guess it would have to be a big worm.”

“An anaconda.” 

You snorted. “Someone’s confident.”

“And someone likes to tease,” he said, fitting his hand to your chin as you brushed your lips over the head of his cock. “We don’t have time for you to seduce me again.” 

“No, but I want to,” you said, laying out your tongue to lick a stripe up his cock. Javier groaned, watching himself swell in your fist. “Just to clean up my mess.”

“Fuck me,” he cursed, reaching forward to grip the car for stability as you licked him clean, pursing your lips across his shaft before letting him slip between your swollen lips. Javi let out a soft hiss as you took him in as far as you could, sputtering on his length before slowly dragging him out, your fist stroking him as you wiped a tear free from your waterline. He gently pulled himself out of your grasp, guiding you onto your feet so that he could kiss your messy lips like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do. “You’re the love of my life, cariño.”

You smiled into the kiss, combing your fingers through his hair. “You’re just saying that because I just had your dick down my throat.”

Javier pulled back with a stern look. “I’m saying that because it’s true. You’re the love of my life.”

Your lips quivered into a tender smile, your hand cradling his face. “You’re the love of mine, too.”

Back at the ranch, you found yourself sitting across from Javier’s dad in the dining room, his eyes locked on his plate as he gathered a generous spoonful of refried beans and rice. Javier’s presence was a soothing anchor amidst the nervousness that was your first meal with Javier’s remaining family. Thankfully, between the thrill of Javier’s warm hand on your thigh and Steve’s rambling about his plan for making things right with his wife, you were too distracted to worry about what Chucho might think of you. 

“So I’ll fly out tonight, grab flowers or somethin’ on the way home, and walk in hopin’ for the best,” Steve said, clapping his hands together “Sorted.”

Javier chuckled as he chewed his food, shaking his head while tearing a piece of his tortilla to dip into his beans. “You’re an idiot.” 

“What the hell else am I supposed to do?” 

“You should probably call her and ask if you’re even welcome,” Chucho said, chuckling along with Javier. “She might not want you back.”

“Don’t listen to them,” you interjected with a small laugh. “But yeah, a phone call wouldn’t hurt.”

“I guess I’ll go call her, then,” he said, wiping his face with a napkin before excusing himself from the table. 

Now alone with both Peña’s, it was harder to ignore the fact that his father was sitting in front of you, taking careful glances your way as if he noticed something strange. 

“How old are you, Mija?” he asked, raising a brow at his son. “Javi told me he met you at work. I assume that means you’re a professor, but you look awfully young.”

You turned to Javier, finding him looking everywhere but at you. “I, uh, yeah. I work at the university.”

“Teaching?”

You shook your head, your tongue going dry under interrogation. “No, just an assistant.”

“Ah,” Chucho nodded, clasping his hands together. “That explains the age thing, then.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, or rather, you attempted to. Javier’s hand gave your thigh a squeeze, a silent apology for going along with the white lie he’d given his father to cover up the scandalous nature of your relationship, no doubt. Though you knew the lie was likely just because he wanted to avoid the potential judgment and interrogation, the more childish, untrusting, scarred part of you couldn’t help but feel it like a knife to your gut. You selfishly yearned for him to claim you and every part of your relationship, rather than force you to lie to his father’s face about who you were.

Subtly reaching down, you shoved his hand away from your thigh, earning a puppy-eyed glance from him. 

“Excuse me for a minute,” Chucho said, clearing his throat as he stood up from his chair and left the room without further explanation. 

“Cariño,” Javier whispered, turning in his chair to face you as you pushed the remnants of your lunch around your plate, sulking. “Baby, can you look at me?”

You turned your eyes to meet his in an icy glare. 

“I’m aware that there’s a certain amount of lying involved in our relationship, but I didn’t realize that extended to your fucking dad,” you whispered back, the sound as passionate as if you’d shouted. “And you just sat there, letting me figure it the fuck out on my own.”

“I know,” he sighed, letting his eyes shut for a moment. “I panicked, and left you to fend for yourself like a dick. I’m sorry. I just…I told him that lie at the beginning because I wasn’t sure where this was going. God knows I never expected to introduce you to the fucking guy. But I’m sorry. For making you lie to him, for leaving you hanging, for all of it.”

“Does Steve know, at least?” you asked, still not quite won over. 

“No,” Javi said, frowning. “I told him the same thing.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “It’s hard to not think you’re ashamed of me, or my position in life, or our age gap, or what people might think of you if they knew the real story, you know? Am I just going to have to lie to your dad and best friend forever? What happens when I graduate, or when I pass the bar? Do I just have to hide that from the people closest to you?”

“Cariño, I didn’t think that far ahead,” he admitted, his brows furrowed with guilt. “But you’re right. A part of me will always be a little ashamed that I crossed that line with a student, and that I fell in love with that student in the process. It’s not something a good man would do, and my dad and Steve know that as well as I do. I just…I don’t know. I didn’t want to give them anything else to judge me for. Steve holds my past with women over me every chance he gets, and all my dad sees me as is the man who ran from home, from the fiancé I didn’t love, to find myself.”

You let out a sigh, scooting closer to him to drape your arm over his neck while your hand coaxed his chin up, forcing his eyes to meet yours. “Your job is to tell me about this shit before it blows up like this, alright? Because if you’d just told me that, I would’ve gladly lied to your dad. And sold it better.”

Javier chuckled, turning to muzzle his face into your palm. “Understood.”

“Now tell me you love me,” you ordered, a smile tugging at your lips as he glanced up at you with those irresistibly beautiful brown eyes. 

“I love you,” he said, kissing your palm. “I love you, and I love all of you.”

You rested both hands on his cheeks, guiding his lips to meet yours in a deep, mending kiss. “Promise me we’ll tell them the truth one day.”

“I’ll tell them on our wedding day,” he murmured, kissing you deeper. “How’s that sound?”

You grinned, pulling away from him to look down at your left hand. You held it up, wiggling your bare ring finger at him. “I don’t see a ring, nor do I happen to remember you getting down on one knee.”

“Not yet,” he chuckled, taking that hand in his and bringing it up to his lips so that he could place a lingering kiss on your ring finger. “But one day.”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Girl Dad! Javier Peña

Girl Dad!Javi who was once terrified to be a dad to daughters, wondering how in the world he could ever be the right person to raise and protect his sweet girls from the dangers of the world he knew all too well

Girl Dad!Javi who hopes that his girls grow up to be just like you- tough, strong and independent

Girl Dad!Javi who loves spoiling his daughters, and will not stop buying them cute outfits and accessories (especially when they're younger) because of how adorable they'll look in them

Girl Dad!Javi who will happily play anything his daughters ask him to- Barbies, princesses, tea parties, unicorns? You name it, he'll do it. He'll even dress for the part, too, just to make his girls giggle when he puts on a tutu and sparkly tiara

Girl Dad!Javi who loves his girl gang so much, he's always asking if you want to have another baby and give your daughters another sister to play with

Girl Dad!Javi who always lets everyone know how much he loves his girls. His friends and co-workers always used to ask him if he wishes he had a son, or if he gets sick of dealing with his daughters, but they learned to stop asking that real fast after Javi gave them an ear full about how much he loved everything about being a girl dad and what a stupid question that was

Girl Dad!Javi who keeps every single piece of artwork his daughters have ever given him. He's got a file folder in his desk overflowing with scribbles of puppies, rainbows, and god knows how much glitter, but he can't bring himself to get rid of anything

Girl Dad!Javi who constantly sings Disney Princess songs to himself, because after the 74th time of watching The Little Mermaid this week, how could they not be

Girl Dad!Javi who learns how to braid so he can help do his daughter's hair before school in the morning. He'll admit, it's not perfect, and he hates those little clear elastics, but he loves getting to spend a little extra one on one time with his girls. He even practices on you when the two of you are hanging out in bed before you go to sleep

Girl Dad!Javi who loves taking his girls to Chucho's ranch to do chores around the farm, teaching them all the in's and out's of how to take care for the animals, use tools, problem solve and work hard. He's also not above bribing them with extra pony rides as incentive to work a little longer

Girl Dad!Javi who shows up to every single practice, game, recital, and school event the girls are apart of, because there is nothing more important to him than making sure his girls know he'll always be there for them.

Girl Dad!Javi who has to remember to not get too upset when his girls give him sass, knowing damn well they inherited all of their stubbornness and strong will from him

Girl Dad!Javi who has absolutely zero tolerance for any misogynistic bullshit he encounters, trying to do what he can to make the world a better place for his daughters to grow up in

Girl Dad!Javi who teaches everything he would have taught to his son to his girls- how to change a tire, mow the lawn, fix things around the house, toss a football, throw a punch, the list goes on and on. He never wants his girls to feel like they need to rely on anyone else to get things done

Girl Dad!Javi who desperately tries to keep up to date on all the things his girls are into, even if it means listening to one too many boy bands on their trips to and from soccer practice (He'll never admit how much he secretly loves One Direction). Not because he necessarily needs his daughters to think he's cool, but because what's important to them is important to him

Girl Dad!Javi who always encourages his daughters to stand up for themselves. Even if they may end up getting in trouble for something questionable, Javi still can't help be proud of the little badasses his girls are

Girl Dad!Javi who tries to act all cool and tough the first time his oldest daughter goes on a date, but has to keep from crying once she leaves, wondering how his little girl has grown up so fast

Girl Dad!Javi who wouldn't trade being a girl dad for anything else in the world, and is so proud of the amazing daughters he's raised with you 🥹

A/N: I will personally fight anyone who doesn't think that Javi is the king of girl dads. You know that man is SUCH a softie and would love his daughters with his whole heart. I will not be taking further questions at this time. Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Long live Girl Dad Javi 🫡

[acaciusbride]

Request Status: Open (Selective)

Pedro Pascal Characters I Write: Din Djarin , Joel Miller, Javier Peña, Oberyn Martell, Javi Gutierrez, Ezra (Prospect), Frankie Morales, Comandante Veracruz, Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels.

Gabriel Luna Characters I Write: Tommy Miller, Boro Polonia.

Be My Future - Din x Reader (Breeding Kink)

Possessive!Din

Touch Starved Din

Teaching Din To Eat You Out

Take It - Dom! Din x Reader (Breeding Kink)

Over Eager, Inexperienced Din

Din Spanks You With His Belt

Din When You're Pregnant

What's In A Name? - Din Djarin x Named OC (SFW)

Din As A Girl Dad (SFW)

Domestic!Din x Teacher!Reader (SFW)

"I'm Not Wearing Underwear" - Prompt

Headcanons

Jealousy, Jealousy - Jealous!Reader x Joel / Jealous!Reader x Tommy (Most Popular Fic!)

Jealousy, Jealousy (Part Two) - Jealous!Reader x Joel

Joel's Kinks

That's My Girl - Jealous, Possessive Joel x Reader

Differences Between Game!Joel & Show!Joel

Playing Rough - Joel x Reader (ft spanking & the knife handle).

Mine - Possessive!Reader x Joel

DBF! Joel Catching You Staring At His Arms

'Accidentally' Getting Joel A Shirt That's Too Small

DBF! Joel Has Enough Of Your Teasing

DBF! Joel With A Bratty Reader

Joel Sees Your Scars (SFW)

Seducing Joel

Joel Wants You In Sub Space

Oblivion - Joel x Reader (Established Consent / DubCon CW)

Breathe Through It - Joel x Anxious!Reader (SFW)

Pre Game - DBF!Joel x Confident!Reader

Plus Size Reader Is Reassured By Joel (SFW)

“We Have To Make This Quick” - Prompt

Joel When You’re Sick (Headcanons)

Curls - Jackson!Joel x AFAB!Reader

Honeypot - Joel “kisses it better”,

Heat - Ezra x F!Reader

Taste - Ezra x F!Reader, short continuation of Heat

Ache - Ezra x AFAB Reader (Sex Pollen Fic)

Jealousy, Jealousy (Alt Version)

Bedside Manner (TLOU2 Spoilers!)

Taboo

Part One (SFW)

Part Two (SFW)

Tennessee Nights (Part One)

Tennessee Nights (Part Two)

Fall In Love In A Single Touch - modern!Oberyn (fluff & hurt/comfort)

A Breath Of Fresh Air - (Dubcon Smut)

[writercole]

God I’m just imagining Scott as a brand new dad, it would be so interesting to see how soft he is for the little baby in his arms considering he’s so serious in his day to day life. He definitely loves to be holding them at all opportunities, he’d lowkey be a great partner because if it involves time with the baby? He is on it!

Oh he's so different as a dad vs as a business owner.

He cries at the first ultrasound.

He immediately starts researching the best and safest everything - cars, car seats, cribs, blankets, you name it. After he buys the MIT onesie.

"Scott, a new car is unnecessary." "You're not driving around in something that isn't rated the highest for safety."

He's the worst in the delivery room because every time she winces in pain, he's wanting to call the doctors. And if she has to have a c-section? He's so worried about them cutting the baby and hurting it.

Wifey naps after she nurses the baby.

He holds the baby, so in awe of the life he helped to create, and cries.

Driving home from the hospital, he takes the slowest, smoothest route with the least amount of traffic. And goes 25 mph the whole time.

His partner is probably the most well-rested nursing mom ever. He won't let her do anything but feed the baby most of the time.

Every single noise the baby makes, he's at their side cooing at them.

Javi and his wife have to force him back to work, basically. He's drowning in data and she's just wanting him out of her hair.

He still waits another week.

The baby is four months old.

I can't imagine it goes well when anyone else tries to meet the baby, either! He's watching like a hawk, trying to find any excuse to take the baby away, even if it's an experienced mother.

[justabigassnerd]

New Best Friend

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,787

Warnings - fluff and that's about it

Summary - the Daggers meet Jake's two-year-old daughter and she decides that Fanboy is her new favourite person

Sequel - 'Replaced'

A/N - hey y'all! This was an anon request that I ADORED writing. I did adjust a couple of things because that's just how the ideas came out while I was writing but I hope I did the idea justice nonetheless! This is also NOT a part of the Hangman junior universe, just wanted to clarify. As per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

“You ready to meet daddy’s friends, sweetheart?” Jake asks gently as he bounced you up and down on his hip slightly, eliciting a giggle from you. Jake had finally dropped the bombshell that he had a two-year-old daughter on his team and within seconds of finding out that information, the team demanded to meet you. Javy had already met you; he’d been the one helping Jake through the whole process of being a single father, but the rest of the team hadn’t been aware of your existence. Jake had invited the Daggers around to his house to hang out and to meet you. It was a Friday evening so everyone was free, and he chose to have them come to his house so you felt safe and comfortable with meeting his teammates. Now that the Dagger Squadron had become a permanent detachment, Jake felt more comfortable letting the team meet you since he didn’t want you to grow attached to them and then have them leave. He didn’t want to put you through any upset or heartbreak.

Jake stopped bouncing you when the doorbell rang, signalling someone’s arrival at the house. Jake walked through the house with you sat happily on his hip. Jake knew you were shy, so he was hoping Javy was the first one to show up to ease you in slightly.

“Hey, Jake.” Javy says with a smile as the door opens.

“Javy!” You squeal happily, reaching out for him so Jake passes you to him. Javy gives you a big hug as he enters the house, kicking his shoes off and following Jake into the kitchen to help set out food for the evening. You continued to cling to Coyote, but he skilfully managed to move plates while you sat comfortably in his arms. Just as the two finished setting up, the doorbell rang again, and Coyote crossed to the front door to open it after he put you down. He opened the door to reveal Phoenix and Bob who smile softly before being allowed in. The pilot and WSO duo enter the house, easing their shoes off and following Coyote into the living room where you were sat in Jake’s lap, cuddling into his side, a fistful of his shirt in your hand. The second your eyes landed on Phoenix and Bob you cuddled closer to your dad, hiding your face.

“Sorry.” Jake says over to the two, who shake their heads with a smile, understanding that you’re shy. You do give them a small wave but that’s as much courtesy as you extend to them. Soon after, Rooster arrives, greeting you with a smile and a wave that you mirror. Those who had arrived chatted with each other after grabbing a drink. None of them wanted to freak you out so they were content to let you cuddle into Jake and watch them quietly. Soon, Payback and Fanboy arrived, both apologising profusely for being late while they entered the living room. You gave both men a shy wave and they found somewhere to sit in the living room. Fanboy sat on the floor by the end of the sofa, discovering a small Mickey Mouse plush on the floor near him and picking it up.

“Is this yours y/n?” He asked gently, holding the plush out towards you as you nod and take it from his hand with a small ‘thank you’ as you cuddle the toy to your chest.

“Who’s that you got there?” Rooster asks quietly, looking over at you.

“Mickey Mouse.” You say shyly as Jake smiles down at you before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He was proud at you for speaking to someone you didn’t know.

“You know, my name is Mickey.” Fanboy says which perks your interest as you shift in your dad’s lap, ignoring his joking groan as you elbow him lightly in the side during your shuffling.

“Really?” You ask curiously, clutching your toy closer to your chest.

“Really.” Fanboy confirms with a nod, officially winning you over as you wiggle out of your dad’s grasp as he eases you down onto the floor so you can toddle towards Fanboy. You instantly open your arms as you reach Fanboy, and he mirrors your action allowing you to clamber onto his lap and cuddle into him. You were clearly not interested in what the team were watching and grew restless but didn’t want to leave the sanctuary you found in Fanboy’s arms.

“Do you want me to take her?” Jake said, noticing how you were restless and didn’t want Fanboy to have to deal with it.

“Nah, I got her. Is that okay?” Fanboy replies, glancing over at Jake to get a response to which Jake nods with a small smile.

“Alright y/n, let’s move.” Fanboy says with a grin, carefully getting to his feet while keeping you in his arms as your arms wind around his neck for added security. You still kept your toy kept tightly in your grasp as Fanboy carried you to the back door. He stepped out into the cool evening air where the sun was beginning its descent over the horizon.

“It’s pretty, huh?” Fanboy says gently, bouncing you on his hip lightly. Your eyes were fixed on the reds and oranges that painted the evening sky, watching the clouds that passed. Noticing a passing jet, Fanboy carefully points it out to you before covering one of your ears and then pressing your head gently against his shoulder so your ears are protected from the loud passing of the jet. When Fanboy considers the jet to be far enough away, he removes his hand.

“Did you see that?” Fanboy asks with a grin as you nod, eyes wide with awe from the jet passing over, you were already searching for another one.

“My daddy flies planes!” You exclaim, pointing up at where the jet had previously been. Fanboy wasn’t expecting you to get so excited about a jet but upon the mention of Jake, he understood. You loved your dad with all your heart and Fanboy could tell easily.

“He does, doesn’t he? You know I do that too? And everyone in the house with your dad. Well, me and Bob don’t, we sit in the backseat but we’re just as important.” Fanboy explains, knowing his words were most likely going in one ear and out the other but he loved seeing your eyes lighting up at the mention of your dad. Fanboy then begins to point out various clouds, asking you if you thought they looked like something. Over time, Fanboy noticed that you were slowly getting more and more tired, and your head was dropping onto his shoulder.

“We should get you inside, yeah?” Fanboy whispers to you, turning to head back inside the house, closing the door behind him and locating Jake in the kitchen, putting food away.

“Hey, Hangman. I think y/n’s ready to go to bed.” Fanboy says to his teammate, who immediately turns to face Fanboy, a soft smile covering his face at the sight of you cuddled into Fanboy.

“I got her. Most of the others are heading home now so you’re good to go.” Jake said with a smile as he reaches out to take you.

“No, Mickey stay.” You whine, burying your face in Fanboy’s neck.

“y/n/n, come on sweetheart. He needs to go home and you, little miss, need to go to bed.” Jake says, reaching out to take you once more but again you shied away, even tucking your Mickey Mouse plush into the crook of your elbow so it hid your face more.

“If it’s okay with you. I could stay until she falls asleep. I don’t mind.” Fanboy offers, bouncing you gently to stop the tears he noticed in your eyes when your dad mentioned you having to go to bed.

“Okay. Come on, I’ll show you to her room.” Jake says, leading Fanboy upstairs after bidding goodbye to the Daggers as they left. Fanboy enters the bedroom, smiling at the décor. It was clear you were a big Disney fan. Fanboy pulls back the duvet on your small bed and eases you down, making sure that your Mickey Mouse toy is still in your grasp.

“Story, please.” You ask Fanboy, pointing to the book that laid just by your bed.

“She can’t go to sleep without a story.” Jake elaborates from where he stood in the doorway, watching every interaction with a gentle smile. Fanboy nods, picking up the book, sitting on the edge of your bed, and holding the book so you could see the pictures. Fanboy read the book, making sure to do different voices for the characters as you giggled at his variety of voices. Soon enough, your eyes began to droop, and you snuggled into your pillow, Mickey Mouse toy cuddled into your chest as you curled into a ball.

“Goodnight, y/n/n.” Fanboy whispers, easing himself up carefully and placing the book on the top of your bookshelf while Jake came in the room fully and knelt by the bed.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and pulling the duvet up around you. He switched the nightlight on by your bed and motioned for Fanboy to follow him, both of them leaving the room with Jake switching your room light off and pulling the door closed, leaving it open a crack.

“You were good with her. Didn’t know you had that in you.” Jake comments as he and Fanboy make their way downstairs.

“I have an older sister, she’s got a kid so I guess I just know how to look after a kid now.” Fanboy shrugs, like it, was an obvious answer.

“Well, you won her over. I think you’re her new best friend. I’ve been dethroned.” Jake chuckles, clapping Fanboy on the shoulder.

“She’s going to be heartbroken tomorrow when she realises, you’re not here. It’ll be like I don’t exist to her.” Jake says, shaking his head with one more soft chuckle.

“I can always come around tomorrow. She’s a cute kid and I don’t mind taking her off your hands for a while. It’ll give you some time to yourself.” Fanboy suggests, glancing over at Jake whose eyes widen slightly in shock.

“You don’t have to. I don’t want to force you into anything.” Jake says quickly.

“You’re not forcing me. I suggested it. I want to help out.” Fanboy says, smiling at Jake who processes his words before nodding slightly.

“Well, you’re always welcome to come and see your new best friend. And I will be telling Payback that he’s been replaced.”