#this is a bit of background on javy and his family
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nixie-deangel · 2 months ago
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Soooo it's not 7th yet where I am. Hopefully it counts 🤣
✨✨👀👀 pretty please
✨ Retired Bradley, Jake climbing Command
“Dinner?” Jake blurts out. He squeezes his eyes close as he grimaces at himself for being such a dumbass. “Would you like to get dinner. With me. As in a date, with me,” he corrects himself as he opens his eyes and gives Bradley a small, tentative smile.  He feels a rush of tension he didn’t even know he was carrying leave his shoulders as he watches the way Bradley brightens, nodding his head so much he causes his dangly earrings to clink together in his enthusiasm. “I’d love to, Jake.” Bradley grins, shuffling a little closer, face turning a little bashful.
👀 B&B, Celebrity Bradley, handyman Jake
“So Nat said your sisters and brothers own this place?” Bradley asks as he tosses his bags into the back of the pickup truck Javy had brought to pick him up from the airport. “Yeah,” he grins as he helps Bradley with his bags. “The lands been in their family since their great-granddaddy settled out here in Texas from Italy. While it was mostly cattle farming, Grace, the eldest of us all, decided to turn it into a bit of a destination wedding venue, without actually having to leave the country for it.” He explains as straps the bags down, so they wouldn’t go flying about on their long drive before they climb into the cab and set off. “Then they expanded on adding little cabins for a B&B experience. Though each cabin has a small kitchenette, so they don’t have to come to the main cabin for food if they don’t want to. Plus hunters will use them during the seasons. So it's a pretty steady income for the family.” “Sounds interesting,” Bradley murmurs.
Make Nixie Write!
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wheresarizona · 3 months ago
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Learning to Live Part 34
summary: It’s time to celebrate your nuptials with your friends and family, where they’ll witness some of your firsts as husband and wife—first dinner, first dance. Hopefully, they won’t notice your first time sneaking away to fool around. 
rating: E (18+!! This is very horny. No y/n, alternating POV, explicit smut, age gap (about ten years), two extremely horny newlyweds, Husband Javier Peña, sneaking around, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, vaginal fingering, car sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, wedding ring kink, getting cockblocked (multiple times), singing “Lay All Your Love On Me” by ABBA as foreplay, oral sex mention (f receiving), accidental voyeurism | overheard spit kink, overheard degradation, overheard mention of choking (spoiler - it’s Robyn and Seb fucking) | feelings, first dance, second dance, father-daughter dance, Javier being so in love, body insecurity, anxiety, Javier being cute with kids, Chucho wanting to be an abuelo so bad, Javier going into protector mode (with a gun), special appearances by Daphne and Velma)
pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader
word count: 24k
a/n: I apologize for how long this took, but I’m happy to finally share it with you! There’s a lot of music referenced in this chapter, and instead of listing out each song, I’ve made a playlist of ALL the music mentioned in the wedding chapters. Huge shoutouts to @devineconjuring and @kilamonster for betaing! You are lifesavers!!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
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It was strange. 
The man you married was a bit of a local celebrity, known by everyone in Laredo for the good and bad things he’d done in his past. With the town’s obsession with him came their intrusive interest in his personal life, which led to fascination when the chronic bachelor began dating you. It was a regular occurrence to be gawked at or to hear hushed whispers and constantly find yourselves as the subject of town gossip. Yet, all of that attention never bothered you—it was annoying, for sure, but it never made you nervous being in the spotlight as the other half of Laredo’s most talked-about couple. Frankly, you ignored it all and went on living your best life with the man you loved.
The thing you found strange was, that attention out in public from strangers? Not a problem. But when you were the center of attention amongst your friends and family on the happiest day of your life? Apparently, it was anxiety-inducing.
Why? If you had to guess, it was probably them seeing you so vulnerable—you weren’t masking what you were feeling; those at the ceremony watched you cry and heard you bare your soul to the love of your life. Now, everyone here was going to witness the first hours of your marriage: your first meal as husband and wife, your first dance, the two of you being so sickeningly in love that at some point tonight, your best friend Robyn will fake gag and call you both disgusting even though she was a hypocrite who had it just as bad for her boyfriend. 
You weren’t nervous when you first got to Chucho’s to fix your makeup—the nerves hit when you saw the almost ninety people under the tent, and you thought about all the eyes that’d be on the two of you basking in your newlywed bliss.
And Javi knew you so well, he clocked your anxiety practically right out of the gate—he didn’t miss a beat giving you the reassurance you needed that you looked fine, he didn’t complain when you busied yourself with fussing over him to get your mind off the crowd, and he distracted you with his sweet singing and loving words. You had to admit, he was knocking this whole husband thing out of the park.
He had calmed you down, and knowing he would be with you every step of the way made it easier to walk to your table and made the attention much more bearable. 
The clapping continued with the occasional whoop and holler, your entrance music still playing in the background, and the excitement was palpable. When it hit you that this tent full of people supported your relationship and were genuinely happy about your marriage, it choked you up, and it took everything in you to hold back your tears. 
These were your real family and friends. 
Javi’s lips were still at your ear after offering you an escape if you needed it, and you kissed his cheek, resting your hand on his bicep—emotion had your words coming out thick when you said for only him to hear, “I love you too, and thank you, babe. I’m so fucking happy we’re married; you’re literally the best husband in the entire universe.” 
He was smiling when he straightened to meet your gaze, his large hands rubbing along your bare arms. “I’m really fucking happy we’re married, too. This is the greatest day of my life, and I’m so lucky ‘cause you’re the best wife in the entire goddamn universe.”
His response made you grin, circling your arms behind his neck, but he caught you off guard when you went in for a kiss—he pulled you into him, his arm around your torso like a band of steel, and as your lips met, he turned you, dipping you back while you kissed, his mouth swallowing your surprised sound. 
There was an uptick in noise the first time you locked lips, but this time? It was downright thunderous with the combination of applause, whistling, and cheers; so many people were taking pictures that you’d think strobe lights were turned on from all of the bright flashes of light. 
You held onto him for dear life as your mouths melded together, questioning in your head if his other hand on your ass was actually for support or if he was just copping a feel; it didn’t matter, though, because as quickly as he tipped you back, he was raising you, your lips separating for only a second to have you standing in front of him again and then he kiss kissed you. 
It was one of those kisses that made your toes curl and your head go dizzy. Everything around you faded away until all that remained was you and Javi—nothing else existed except him. As he held you close, hugging you to his body, your lips touching and tongues intertwined, you ceased being two separate people and became one—one heart, one soul, one future. There was no you and him; it was you both together from this day until the end of time.
Unfortunately, the kiss had to come to an end, and you chased his lips when he broke away from you—Javier chuckled, the sound warm to your ears, and you smiled when he pecked the tip of your nose, then nuzzled it with his own, those baseball mitts he called hands holding your upper arms. 
"I love you," he said. 
"I love you, too." 
You could feel the air move as he pulled back. 
"You ready to sit down?" 
Your eyes blinked open to find his tender gaze on you with a sweet smile beneath his perfect mustache. 
“That’s probably a good idea; you have me feeling a little wobbly after that kiss.” You winked. 
He smiled, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “Of course, mi amor.” He moved around you to pull out your seat, and you sat down, Javi pushing you in. He took the chair beside yours, and the moment he was seated, he made you giggle as he scooted, chair and all, closer to you until he was right against your side, his arm going over your shoulders—you were each drawn to the other, leaning into him as he leaned into you, looking at one another with smiles, sitting in your little bubble. 
The sound had died down, and the music had ended. Diego spoke through the microphone, reading from a piece of paper, “Los novios quieren agradecer a todos los presentes por compartir este día tan especial con ellos y quieren agradecer especialmente al padre de Javier, Chucho, y a sus tías, María, Rebeca, y Lupita por toda su ayuda para organizar esta increíble fiesta. (The bride and groom would like to thank everyone present for sharing this special day with them, and especially want to thank Javier’s father, Chucho, and his aunts María, Rebeca, and Lupita for all their help organizing this incredible party). ¡Démosles un aplauso (Let’s give them a round of applause)!”
Everyone, including the two of you, clapped. 
When you went to dinner with Chucho on Javi’s birthday and told him your wedding plans, your father-in-law insisted on paying for everything, which you both declined right away. This led to a bit of a heated argument in Spanish between your husband and his dad, where you discovered that in their culture, traditionally, the groom’s family paid for the wedding since he was the one to propose. 
The only way Javi could placate his dad and later his tías, who were also gung-ho about paying for everything, was to let them all plan and put the event together on your dime—which was a great idea, given how perfectly it turned out. 
“Y ahora (And now),” Diego continued, “es el momento de comer—for the English speakers in the house, that means it’s time to eat!” 
The food was set up buffet style on the opposite side of the room, and people started getting up. With everything going on, your only meal all day had been breakfast that morning with your father-in-law. The rest of the time, you snacked and sampled the dishes being served; now that you were thinking about it, you realized you were hungry, your stomach growling in confirmation. 
When you tried to push back your chair, Javi stopped you, and you looked at him confused. “Don’t get up,” he said. “I’ll get you food, mi amor.” 
“I’m capable of getting my own food.” 
“I want to get you food.”
An exasperated breath left you. “Fine. Thank you.” At your acquiesce, he smiled and quickly kissed you before getting up and heading across the room. 
It was odd sitting at the table alone, and you took a second to see who all was here. Chucho and his sisters were the first to fill their plates because they were guests of honor. Almost all of Javi’s cousins were here, and a majority of the men were staying at their tables with their kids while their wives went to get food, including Danny, who had his toddler daughter, Sofia, in his lap and his four-year-old son in the chair beside him, their six-months pregnant mother standing in line. 
The Murphys were over there, Connie carrying Nate on her hip and strategically holding a plate; Stevie stood between her and Steve, the father getting food for himself and his son, and Olivia was ahead of them all serving herself. Sebastián was taking a much-deserved break from recording, standing in line behind Robyn with his arms wrapped around her middle and whispering something in her ear that had her flushing and giggling. 
You spotted your other friends from work, Gil and Luis, the latter coming with his wife Cat and their four kids, all under twelve. Javi’s old friends from high school, Anna, Benito, and Ken, were here with their families—Anna did all of the baked desserts. There was the family that ran El Mercadito, all five members present, and Sheriff Arturo with his wife. His and Javi’s assistant, Joy, was here, too, and she brought her roommate, a lovely girl named Jamie who drove a Subaru—something rare in Texas—and was wearing a stylish pantsuit with a shirt that complemented the color of Joy’s dress; they were such cute best friends. 
People were patting Javi on his back and congratulating him, seeing his bright grin each time he looked back at you as he made his way to the opposite side of the room. You watched him beelining toward his tías and father, who were at the end of the buffet with their plates full of food, to speak to his tía María for just a moment; whatever she said made him chuckle and kiss her on the cheek. Then he walked to the back of the line, politely refusing anyone who told him to cut in front of them. He ended up between one of his tíos and Mrs. Pauletta Moore, who you first met at the Farmer’s Market when you started dating; every subsequent time you went to the market, you’d stop by her stall to chat because she was fun to talk to and you found it amusing that Javi got flustered when she inevitably brought up how handsome he was—you never made him suffer long, though. You always got him out of there after a minute. 
What she was saying right now made him blush and glance over at you from across the room every few seconds with a polite smile, his big brown eyes screaming, ‘Help Me.’
His gaze was locked on yours, his mouth moving as he spoke to the older woman.You started to get up to save him, but he slightly shook his head at you, and you frowned, sitting in your seat again. 
Things got better once it was his turn to get dinner. Minutes later, he returned to your table with two plates and immediately left to grab a couple of beers for you both. When he was finally back for good, he sat down and once again scooted himself as close to you as possible, his arm going over your shoulders again. 
When it came to choosing the food for tonight, you and Javi only had two requests: you wanted there to be little BLT finger sandwiches, made how you liked them—swap out the mayo for garlic aioli, use arugula instead of lettuce, and add avocado—since the tomato for a BLT is how you met; the second request was that they used his mother’s recipes, which his tías happily agreed to. 
The plate in front of you was loaded with a little of everything: a tiny BLT, three street tacos made with fresh, homemade tortillas, each filled with a different meat—Al Pastor, barbacoa, and carne asada—roasted pig, chiles rellenos, enchiladas mole, elote, a mini queso Oaxaca quesadilla, spicy rice, beans, a few extra tortillas, and some homemade salsas in little plastic cups.
“Thank you,” you told him, pecking him on the cheek. 
His head turned to press his lips to yours, and he smiled into the kiss. “You’re welcome—I love you, my wife.”
You matched his expression. “I love you, too, my amazing husband. God, I love calling you that.” Your mouth left his, and you looked at him, his eyes on yours. “Can you believe we’re married?” 
His free hand reached to grab your left, lifting it to kiss your rings. “I keep looking at my ring to make sure it really happened.” A happy sigh left him, and the expression on his face showed how much he loved you, the intensity of it making you go so soft there was a chance you’d melt like ice cream in the hot sun. “You’re my wife,” he said. “I have a wife. I’m your husband. And, shit, last week was our first shot at making a baby. I’m already on cloud nine, but imagine if we were successful.” He let go of your hand to put his palm on your stomach, and your heart squeezed at how excited he was about being married and potentially having a child—you really hit the husband jackpot. Javi kept speaking, “We could have a baby by the end of the year. Even if it doesn’t happen, this has been the best year of my entire fucking life because you married me.” 
“Oh, Javi.” Your upper body twisted in his direction as your hands gently held his face, pulling him in to crush your lips to his, wanting him to feel your happiness, your love, and your hope that he was right about the addition of a tiny Peña by the end of the year. You agreed that even if a baby wasn’t in the cards for 1999, this had also been the best year of your entire fucking life because he married you. 
When you broke the kiss, Javi’s cheeks were tinted pink, and he was smiling so big, his dimple was showing. After exchanging ‘I love yous’ once more, you both dug into your plates. 
As expected, the food was incredible, and there was no way you’d be able to finish the plate, but you tried a little of everything, loving it all.
A comfortable silence fell between you two as you ate, and once the hunger in your belly subsided, you wiped your mouth with your napkin and asked, “What was Mrs. Moore saying that was making you uncomfy?” 
He groaned around a bite, and as soon as he swallowed, he avoided looking at you, using his own napkin to clean his mouth. He answered, “She went on and on and on about how fantastic I looked and told me that if she were your age, she also would’ve snatched me up and married me as quickly as you did after the engagement.”
You giggled. “I’m sorry. I know you hate when she talks about how handsome you are.” 
He sighed. “It’s fine, and I corrected her that I was the impatient one who wanted to get married so quickly.” He looked over at you and smiled. “She also congratulated us and said we’re a great match and a wonderful couple. She’s loved seeing our relationship grow and can’t wait for us to have kids, which she says will happen sooner rather than later.” 
“‘Cause you’re such a hunk, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you?” You gently knocked your shoulder against his. 
“With how you can’t keep your hands off of me? Apparently, I’m the biggest hunk in the entire fucking world.” 
“Wow, your ego has been fed way too much today.” 
He laughed and kissed your cheek. You felt his hot breath as he whispered in your ear, “Nothing to do with my ego, Cielito. I’m stating the truth; you can’t keep your hands off me, and you know what? I can’t keep my hands off you—when she said we’d have kids sooner rather than later, I agreed because it is my fucking mission to get you pregnant.”
Something about his determination had arousal igniting in your gut. 
“Why do I find that so sexy?” 
He kissed the sensitive spot behind your ear, and you trembled. “Because you married a hunk who can’t keep his hands off you.” 
You giggled, turning your head to kiss him. “I married a ridiculous man,” you said into his lips, your eyes closing. 
His response was muffled. “A ridiculous man who loves you.” His lips left yours, and the tip of his nose nuzzled yours. “Mi amor?” he rasped. 
“Yes, husband?” 
His fingers slid along your thigh. “After the dances,” he said, “when they open the dance floor, sneak away with me to the laundry room—” It was at the end of the same hall the guest bedroom was down and secluded. “—I need you so fucking bad.” 
“After the dances, I have to change dresses...” 
“That’s not a no… Can I join you? Your clothes will already be off, and I can put you up on the bathroom counter or against it and slide right in. Imagine getting filled with your husband’s cock—the cock that belongs to you—and how it will stretch your perfect pussy—my wife’s pussy. We’d be quick; I’d fuck you hard and fast. I’ll probably have to cover your mouth to keep you quiet, and all of these people will have no fucking clue that while they’re drinking and dancing, my wife’s soaking my dick in her come, and I’m stuffing her full of me.” 
The proposition made you squirm in your seat and had your skin heating.  
Now that you were at the party, your nerves had settled, and his words had gotten to you—you did want him inside you, and god, to feel him stretch you open; the fingering in the truck was good, but nothing compared to how Javi fucked you, and the thought of doing it with so many people on the property had your inner exhibitionist frothing at the mouth. 
“Sold.” 
It was truly adorable how he giddily chuckled, then smothered the sound by kissing you, his hand leaving your thigh to press to your cheek. He’d been eating an Al Pastor taco before you interrupted him, the sweetness of pineapple and spiciness of chiles lingering on his tongue as he licked into your mouth, giving you another one of those toe-curling kisses that made your brain stop working—either you were just insanely horny for your husband and you couldn’t wait to be alone in a room with him, or some baser, primal instinct was telling you to go right that second to make a baby. 
There were wolf-whistles again, and you couldn’t make out what Olivia asked, but you sure heard her father’s answer. “If you must know,” Steve said, “yes, I do kiss your mother like that, but not in front of you or your brothers—those kinds of kisses are between two adults who love each other and should only happen in private.” The girl made another comment, and Steve replied, “Well, your tio loves your new tia very, very much, and getting married is one of the happiest days of someone’s life—they’re just so happy, and in love, they keep forgetting there’s an audience.” 
Your mouths separated, Javi pressing his forehead to yours as he sighed. He quietly said to you, “I’m aware there’s an audience, and I don’t give a fuck because we’re not doing anything inappropriate—it’s just kissing for Christ’s sake.”  
You pushed your fingers into the hair at the back of his head. “He’s being an overprotective dad. When we have kids, you’re definitely going to be overprotective, but not when it comes to affection because it’s normal for us to be all lovey-dovey—our babies will be used to their parents being disgustingly in love.”
“Yeah, they will.” 
His hair is soft to the touch, and you lovingly scratch your nails against his scalp. “Something that I love is that your parents shaped your view of what a healthy, loving marriage should be like, and we’re gonna do the same for our children, so when they’re all grown up, they’ll hopefully have something like us and their abuelos (grandparents).” 
You didn’t have to see his face to know he was frowning when he spoke. “I don’t want them to grow up… I want them to be my babies forever.” 
“Oh, babe.” You pecked his lips. “They’ll always be your babies, and this is a reminder that when we finally have one, we need to savor every moment because they're gonna grow so quickly, and I know you’ll hate that.” 
Seconds passed, and he didn’t speak, which meant he was in his head, thinking deeply about something. You pulled back to look at his face, his eyes closed, his eyebrows cinched together, and you stroked your fingers along his cheek. 
“Where’d you go?” you softly asked him. 
He blinked open his eyes. “Nowhere,” he answered, turning his head to kiss your palm. 
“Are you okay?” 
He gave you a little smile. “I’m fucking amazing.” 
“Good.” 
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“¡Bien, todos (Okay, everyone),” Diego announced, “démosle la bienvenida a la pista de baile los novios para su primer baile (Let’s welcome the bride and groom to the dance floor for their first dance)!” 
Applause sounded, and Javi got up from the table first, offering a hand that you took to rise, and he led you out onto the dance floor. The intro for “I’ve Been Waiting for You” by ABBA began, the soft hum of a synthesizer sounding as Agnetha Fältskog sang with feeling about how she never thought she’d love again, but the right person has come along now and brought back the feeling.  
It wasn’t hard to figure out what Javi was thinking with how intensely he looked upon you; his loving gaze burned as it met yours, his close-lipped smile beneath his perfectly trimmed mustache making the edges of his eyes crinkle, and there was not a single doubt that it was you on his mind, consuming all of his thoughts. Before he pulled you close by your hand in his, he took you in, the pink of his tongue wetting his bottom lip as his gaze trailed up your body appreciatively. When his chocolate-colored eyes locked onto yours, his love for you was evident, but so was his desire—he clearly wanted you, and it made heat creep up your neck. 
His free hand found its home on your waist, or more accurately, the top of your ass where it met your waist, while your own held onto the back of one of his broad shoulders, and you danced as you had so many times before in the kitchen as you cooked together; the familiarity of the steps, Javi guiding you as you swayed to the music, eyes on each other and only each other, the rest of the world disappearing. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said for just your ears. 
All you could see was the truth on his face, and it made you smile. You replied just as softly, “Thank you. You’re so fucking handsome—ten out of ten, would bang.” You winked, and he chuckled, the two of you slowly moving to the song. 
“You know how much I love you in that dress, but I can’t wait to get you out of it.” 
“A few more songs, and you’ll get to.” 
He grinned, his dimple appearing. “I really fucking love you.” 
“I really fucking love you, too.” 
The song’s chorus played:
“You thrill me, you delight me You please me, you excite me You're something I'd been pleading for I love you, I adore you I lay my life before you I'll have you want me more and more And finally, it seems my lonely days are through I've been waiting for you.”
He pulled you close enough to touch his forehead to yours gently, his hand holding your smaller one against his chest over his heart. He was gazing lovingly into your eyes, softly smiling. 
“I gotta say, this is a good song choice,” he told you. 
When the discussion about music for today came up, immediately, this was the song that came to mind for your first dance—it was about thinking love would never happen, then the surprise at finding it, and the overwhelming feelings that come with finally having it after longing for so long; the immense adoration, and deep commitment, it being so unexpected that it felt like destiny, ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’ It captured the essence of your relationship with Javi perfectly, and it made you happy that after playing it for him, he agreed—he’d never heard it before and thought, by the end, it fit well, too. 
He also sought your approval for his song choice that you walked down the aisle to, except his pitch was having you listen to all of side one of his Fleetwood Mac Rumours record that “Songbird” was the last track on… In bed… While making out through the first five songs leading up to it. Apparently, in college, he’d invite girls to his dorm room to ‘listen to a record with him’—not always Fleetwood Mac—and they’d fool around. Another discovery you made was that side two of Rumours was the one he fucked to since it was the longer of the two sides, running just shy of twenty minutes. Yes, your husband had a system where he dedicated the first side of a record to foreplay, then the second for the main event. 
“Right?” you responded to his comment. “The devotion and being all in—it’s so us.” 
The song continued, and Javi moved his head beside yours to quietly sing along to a few verses in your ear when the chorus played again:
“You're something I'd been pleading for I love you, I adore you I lay my life before you I'll have you want me more and more.”
It had you sucking in a breath, your eyes rounding because you were under the impression the one and only time he listened to this track was when you introduced him to it. 
You leaned back to see his face. “Wait, how do you know the lyrics?” you asked. 
His eyebrow raised, giving you a look like it was obvious. “Cielito, you chose this for our first dance,” he said. “Of course, I listened to it a handful of times after you showed me it-—it’s a pretty song and perfect.” 
Tears were starting to blur your vision at how sweet that was. 
“You love ABBA.”
He huffed in amusement. “My wife loves ABBA, and if she loves them, then I love them, too.”
“Uh-huh, right—we’re married, babe. You don’t have to keep pretending you’re too cool to love them.”
He sighed. “Their shit is just so catchy.”
His admission had you smiling. “Finally, you admit it. God, I really fucking love you.” 
He gave you another dimpled smile. “I really fucking love you, too.” He moved to have your temples touching as you swayed. “I wanna tell you something.” 
With the music so loud and the two of you staying in the middle of the dance floor, you doubted anyone would be able to hear your hushed conversation. He was still slowly leading you around; talking and dancing was something you were both used to.
“Okay.” 
“When I finally came home to Laredo for good, it’d fucking get to me seeing all the pictures of how happy my parents were or listening to my dad talk so fondly about my mom. Hearing and seeing how much they loved each other killed me because I’d never have anything like what they had. Then you came along and, Jesus Christ, am I so fucking thankful you came along—” The relief was evident in his voice. “—because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you’ve given me the life I always dreamed about, and more. So, you are something I’d been pleading for; I love you, I adore you, and you know I lay my life before you—it’s yours, it’ll always be yours, and I’m gonna do my damndest to make you want me more.” You could hear his smile. “I’ll have to up the hunkiness.” 
You laughed, continuing to dance with him. “I don’t think you can get any hunkier.” 
“I think I can.” His cheek touched yours to whisper in your ear, feeling the hot breath of his words, “Like how after the dances, I’m dragging your ass to the bedroom, getting you naked, and I wanna bury my face in your pussy.” You gasped. “I know you want me to eat it, and I’m fucking dying to taste my wife. I’ll get you off with my mouth and the fingers you love. Then I’m pressing you back against the wall—I know I said bathroom counter earlier, but I need to kiss you—so, your back is getting pressed against the wall, and you're gonna taste yourself on my tongue while I fuck you hard and fast. I’ll keep you quiet so nobody knows you’re getting your husband’s good dick, and when I come inside you, you’re gonna keep it all in for the rest of the night because you know if you’re my good girl, I’m gonna give you anything you want when we get home.” 
“Javier,” you breathed. He had your skin feeling hot and your heartbeat thudding between your legs, so unbelievably turned on by what he said. You had to clear your throat and say, “Sir, the way you’re making my pussy throb—I am so upset that I can’t drag your ass to the bedroom right this second to have my way with you.”
“Yeah?” He kissed your cheek. “I’ll make you feel good the first chance I get, and fuck, I can’t wait to get you home so that I can take my time. Quiero hacerte el amor (I want to make love to you). Quiero dártelo despacito y hacer temblar tus piernas (I want to give it to you slowly and make your legs shake). Quiero oírte gritar mi nombre decirme lo bien que te estoy chingado (I want to hear you scream my name and tell me how good I’m fucking you).” 
“Okay, okay, okay, you are the hunkiest hunk to ever hunk, and I’m gonna need you to tone it down because I am extremely horny and so close to saying fuck it and running away with you while everyone watches.”  
You didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling. “I’m sorry for getting you worked up, mi amor.” 
“That’s a dirty fucking lie, and you know it.” 
With your bodies pressed together, you felt the rumble of his chuckle as the song came to an end. The two of you slowed to a stop naturally, and Javi straightened in front of you, looking at you once more; he was just as affected by the things he said if his darkened eyes and the pretty pink flush painted across his cheeks were anything to go by—and maybe it was his sultry words, or his sweet confession, or simply that his plush mouth looked so kissable, whatever it was had you gripping the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, and tugging him to you to smash your lips against his, kissing him. His arms wrapped around you, one hand anchored at the back of your head, the other squeezing your ass, your mouths passionately fused together, turning your body to putty and your brain to mush as you melted into him. 
During his vows, Javi said his life didn’t begin until the moment he met you, and you understood exactly what he meant—what felt like so long ago, yet was only mere months, he entered your sphere, and suddenly, you felt alive; he made you feel alive. He was the sun shining after a gloomy, rainy day. He was the spring blooms after a frigid, snowy winter. He brought life to your world, love, and made everything better, and now he promised you his forever, sealing that commitment with the gold band on your finger. 
He was yours, completely, always yours, and you were his. 
Honestly, it was a miracle you heard a single thing Diego was announcing over the speakers. “La siguiente canción es una petición especial del novio (This next song is a special request from the groom). Mrs. Peña, Javi quiere dejarte saber que él siempre será tu pez (Mrs. Peña, Javi wants you to know that he will always be your fish).” 
That had you abruptly ending the kiss, Javi’s mouth chasing yours. You pressed a hand to the center of his chest to hold him back. 
“What song?” you asked him. “What does it mean that you’ll always be my fish…?”
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His eyes opened to look at her, and he smiled, engulfing her hand on him with his larger one to hold over where she had to feel the thud of his heartbeat, his other resting just below her waistline on her ass, loving how soft her dress was under his fingers. He didn’t get a chance to answer because Diego started the song, and he knew she recognized it immediately from the familiar piano and twang of an acoustic guitar filling the air, followed by bongos and a man singing the opening line:
“Tengo un corazón…” 
She started laughing, and warmth spread through him at how delighted she was. 
“Burbujas de Amor” by Juan Luis Guerra was one of their favorite songs that played on the Spanish radio station they liked to listen to as they cooked. It had a good danceable beat while also being a romantic ballad, and the lyrics were… Interesting. The first time his wife heard it was early on in their relationship while they were making lunch together; she couldn’t believe what was being sung to the point she kept double-checking with him that what she was translating in her head was correct. 
“Wait, did he just say he wants to be a fish so he can touch her fish tank with his nose…?” she asked. 
“Yeah.” 
“I didn’t understand the next line.” 
“Y hacer burbujas de amor por dondequiera—and make love bubbles everywhere.” 
“And then he really sings that he wants to stay up all night, soaked in her?”
“Yeah, and it makes sense to me ‘cause I wanna stay up all night soaked in you.” 
She grinned. “You want to be the fish to my fish tank.” 
“Quiero ser tu pez, quiero ser tu novio, quiero ser tu todo (I want to be your fish, I want to be your boyfriend, I want to be your everything). Need me to translate?” 
“Nope, I understood you perfectly.” 
The ABBA song was their choice for the first dance, but when they were picking the music, she joked about how funny it’d be if they used “Burbujas de Amor.” It amused her so much that he thought it’d be fun to surprise her with it as their second dance song. 
“I can’t believe you requested this,” she said, clearly amused. 
“We love it—” He shrugged. “—and I wanted to dance with you to it.” He gave her hand a quick kiss before letting it go to do this thing she found sexy, where he kept his attention on her while undoing the buttons on his suit jacket one-handed. He continued speaking as it came undone, “Dance with me—really dance with me.” 
Javier loved the intimacy of slow dancing with her—the two of them close together in their own little world, swaying to the music and having an easy conversation; it was one of his favorite things to do. But there was nothing like giving in to the rhythm of some great music with someone you had a deep connection with, someone who loved you just as intensely as you loved them and shared in the intimate knowledge of how your bodies moved together. 
It was incredible.
Their connection made everything exhilarating, and it was the same with sex. Out of the many partners he’d had in the bedroom and out on the dance floor, nothing compared to doing either with his wife—she was hands down the best he’d ever had in bed or dancing. 
And to be completely honest, she wasn’t as good of a dancer as him—she was much better now than at the start of their relationship, and his toes were thankful for that; none of it mattered, though, because her confidence and willingness to even try, along with how fun she was, made up for her lack of skill. Plus, they had such great chemistry she did an excellent job of following his lead, which was the only time she let him be in control 100% of the time, every time. 
“Okay,” she replied, stepping into him and wrapping her arm around his neck. She held up her other hand that Javier happily took firmly into his much bigger one, holding her close, his knee slotting between both of hers and a second later, he was moving them to the beat, literally moving her where he wanted by her hand in his—backward, forward, a turn here, a turn there, his wife relaxed and dancing in sync with him, their hips shaking a bit with each step.  
Though they usually danced like this to cumbia music, he thought it was the best choice for this situation since he’d do all the work while she followed, because he knew, even if she was hiding it, that she worried about fucking up in front of everyone. Like this, he had complete control of them—how fast they went, where they were going; he was so in tune with her, so familiar with how she moved, they were dancing so seamlessly and effortlessly like it was a choreographed number they’d rehearsed a hundred times before.
He loved her giggles when he twirled them around, and he couldn’t stop smiling at how good it felt to move them to the music with hardly any thought or care aside from keeping them stepping to the rhythm; they were just having fun, enjoying each other and the vibrant energy of their love and happiness. 
They were between choruses, the guitar, piano, and bongos still playing to keep the beat, while a trumpet had a solo. 
“Javi?” she said. 
“Yes, Cielito?” 
He spun them in a complete circle and continued on another lap around the dance floor. 
Her face was beside his, and she sang dramatically along with Juan Luis Guerra that she would like to be a fish so she could touch her nose to his fish tank and make love bubbles. Javier chuckled, which only egged her on to keep singing.
They didn’t stop moving, Javier humming along to her serenading him, and he was thinking about how much he loved this woman who made him laugh so easily and constantly amused him—she was sunshine, all bright, happy, and full of life, and the complete opposite of what he’d been before meeting her. 
There was that old saying, ‘Laughter is the best medicine,’ and he was pretty fucking sure it was true with how much better he was with her—she relaxed him, she’d crack a joke, and all of the tension melted away from his body. Her silliness brought him joy, and he felt so good after she told him a funny story, he always wanted her to keep talking. It sometimes felt like she was trying to make up for all of his laughless years before her, and when he thought about it, she had made a point in her marriage vows to promise to keep making him laugh and smile for the rest of their lives; it was a promise that she’d keep making him happy and that his life would never be miserable again. It was the greatest promise anyone had ever made to him, and for as long as he lived, he was going to worship the ground she walked on—he was wholly and undoubtedly hers and he would ensure she was aware of that fact every single day for the rest of their lives. 
When the song ended and they came to a stop, he let go of her. His hands held her beautiful face, rubbing his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks, her eyes shining in adoration, and he wanted to kiss that smile on her lips—he was so focused on her that he barely registered those in attendance clapping. 
"Javi?" she said. 
"Yes, mi vida (my life)?" 
“Do you remember the first time we listened to that song?” 
He smiled. “Yeah, you were making me my first peanut butter and jelly sandwich while I was cutting apple slices for lunch, and you kept wondering if you were hearing the lyrics right.” 
“Good, then I want you to know that eres mi pez, eres mi esposo, y siempre serás mi todo (You are my fish, you are my husband, and you will always be my everything)—I love you."
The tears he was keeping at bay were making his eyes burn, and it could be heard how choked up he was when he replied, "I love you, too." 
And to stop himself from crying in front of his wife and the almost hundred people watching, he hugged her to him in a tight embrace, welcoming her arms that held him just as tightly. A content sigh left him as all of the muscles in his body went lax, soaking up her warmth and comfort, the calm washing over him like a cool balm on a hot summer day. 
Something about Javier was that, even though he was raised Catholic, he didn't believe in God or any other almighty higher being somewhere out in the ether. It was easy to lose faith when someone had seen the things he'd seen and been through the shit he'd been through. He did, however, believe in fate and that everything happens for a reason; he thought that no matter what choices were made—good, bad, right, or wrong—they’d all lead to the same end result. 
For a long time, he questioned the purpose of all that he’d done in Colombia and what his sacrifices were for when, in the end, it felt like it was all for nothing, and in one aspect, it had been a pointless endeavor; everything he did, didn’t end the war on drugs, and there wasn’t anything that could. But those grueling years he spent wading through unimaginable hell and loneliness were the long and rocky road that brought him to the woman he loved—all he went through wasn’t for nothing, because it led him to finding heaven, his Cielito, his wife. This person who was his entire world, who he loved more than anything, whose presence gave him peace, and whose words touched his soul. She made all of the blood, sweat, and tears he’d shed over the years worth it, and he’d happily do it all again since he was fated to find the woman of his dreams and experience today, the best day of his entire life.  
It was still hard to believe she said, ‘I do,’ and he found himself unwrapping her left arm from around him and leaning away enough to bring her hand up, delicately holding her fingers in his own. He stared at the two rings, the proof she did marry him. The diamonds on the engagement ring glittered beneath the string lights above them, his thumb smoothing over the new gold band below it that matched the one on his finger. He kissed the modest-sized princess-cut diamond nestled between a pair of smaller ones on either side of it and felt so fucking happy he thought he might combust—he had a wife, he was a husband.  
Neither of them were able to get out another word before Diego’s voice was heard over the sound system, “La siguiente canción fue elegida por la novia para el segundo hombre más importante de su vida, quien la recibió en su familia con los brazos abiertos y es el mejor papá que cualquiera podría desear (The following song was chosen by the bride for the second most important man in her life, who welcomed her into his family with open arms, and is the best dad anyone could wish for). ¡Es hora del baile padre e hija (It’s time for the father-daughter dance)!” 
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Growing up, you weren’t like most other girls who fantasized about their dream wedding. Of course, you hoped one day you’d meet the love of your life and get married. Still, in terms of the wedding itself, you knew from a young age your controlling parents would be heavily involved in the planning to ensure it met their standards and made them look good, so you didn’t see any point in thinking much about it. 
Then, you moved thousands of miles away to escape their control and live your life the way you wanted, and on Friday, June 12th, 1998, you fantasized for the first time about what your wedding would be like when you married Javier Peña—not if, when. 
It was the evening after he asked you to be his girlfriend, and you were cuddling on your couch, watching a movie—the entire pizza you’d ordered for dinner was eaten, the box sitting closed on the coffee table with a couple of empty cans of Coca-Cola on coasters near it. The two of you were too exhausted from hardly getting any sleep the night before to do anything more exciting than make out a little after eating. Honestly, it was nice how comfortable it was relaxing together. Since Javi was allergic to clothes, he’d been lounging in only his jeans, and when he got up to use the bathroom, you admired his back as he walked away. Ogling his front on his return to the living room, taking in the broadness of his chest, your spine tingling at seeing dark marks you sucked onto his golden skin—you’d wanted to kiss all over his soft belly and scratch your nails down the tantalizing trail of hair that disappeared below the denim’s waistband. He’d been so amused by you blatantly checking him out he stopped paying attention to where he was walking and managed to slam his toe hard into one of the coffee table’s legs, which had him yelling ‘FUCK,’ and lifting his injured foot to awkwardly hop on the other, hissing a string of what you now knew, for sure, were Spanish curse words. Immediately, you jumped up to make sure he was okay and checked the damage to his big toe; it was mostly his ego that’d been bruised, and when you sat back down on the sofa, you made him lie across it with his head in your lap to play with his hair, to cheer him up—apparently, you’d been so tired that a few minutes later you forgot to filter your thoughts and accidentally said out loud: 
“Sure wish I was your big toe.”
He had twisted to look up at you, his face showing apparent confusion when he asked, “What?” 
Once again, what you were thinking spilled from your lips, “So you’d bang me on the coffee table.”
It’d been unbelievably stupid, yet it made Javi laugh so hard that his eyes practically disappeared with how thinly they slit together and adorably crinkled at the edges while he gave you a huge, blinding smile; his glee was infectious and had you both laughing until you cried—that was when you knew he was The One™️.
This was the first person you ever truly felt like you could be yourself with, and you knew, without a doubt, that he liked you for you and appreciated your silliness. And everything had seemed so easy with him—talking, dating, and how comfortable it was to spend hours on the couch watching TV while going long periods in silence. The familiarity between you two had made it feel as though you’d always known him, and it was crazy that your personalities and backgrounds were so vastly different, yet you meshed so well together—he understood you, and you understood him; you complemented one another. It hadn’t mattered that you were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need a man and never had a single codependent bone in your body; when Javier Peña would leave your apartment or even just the room you were in, you missed him—it was mind-boggling to like someone so much that your chest ached when they weren’t near.
Strangers who heard how quickly your relationship became serious liked to comment on how fast you fell for each other. Falling implies it was by accident, and there was uncertainty about where you’d land when, but in reality, there was no falling, no uncertainty; you were simply two parted souls who were reunited and had finally come home. 
So, the evening after he asked you to be his girlfriend, while you both laughed with tears streaming down your cheeks that hurt from smiling so big, it was cemented in your brain that you were going to marry him—a life you could see that would be filled with love, happiness, and laughter.
The wedding you imagined all those months ago was close to how it turned out—a small, intimate ceremony only attended by a select few with a party afterward. Javi wore the black tuxedo you pictured, and his dad and Robyn were there, as you expected; however, it wasn’t your father who gave you away like you thought it’d be, and your mother wasn’t there to watch or even help you get ready. Back then, so soon after starting your relationship, you didn’t know that your parents would disapprove of Javi, and naively you had assumed they’d be happy for your nuptials—you knew they’d hate the wedding you planned, but they still would’ve come with the caveat of complaining the whole time, and there was no expectation for your brother and his family to be there due to how challenging it’d have been to travel with their gaggle of young children. You promised your best friend that you wouldn’t think about the people you used to share a last name with, and you were trying not to. There were simply moments when they came to mind, and you’d feel a pain in your chest like an invisible stab to the heart that tried to ruin this wonderful day. 
Frankly, your wedding was turning out better than you initially imagined it. All those who witnessed your ceremony loved it, and everyone at the reception was truly happy for you both. The best part, though, was the man who gave you away wasn’t related to you by blood. Still, he loved you more than those who did—he was genuinely proud of you, he supported your happiness, and would fight for you without a second thought; he was a real father, and you lucked out that he chose to be yours, loving you unconditionally as you always deserved. 
There was no one else in the world you wanted to have a father-daughter dance with more than your newly titled father-in-law, Jesús ‘Chucho’ Peña. 
As you stepped away from Javi after giving him a sweet departing kiss, you set your sights on your new dad sitting at the table with the Murphys and Robyn—Seb was back to work recording with the camcorder. The song began, starting with the dulcet tone of a violin and an entire orchestra backing it, the whimsicalness of the intro sounding as if it could’ve been pulled from a fairytale movie; “Amor Eterno” by Rocío Dúrcal was a breathtakingly beautiful ballad about grieving someone you loved. 
Chucho’s camera was atop the lavender tablecloth in front of him, and he had a hand over his mouth in shock, his eyes glistening with tears beneath the lenses of his glasses—he hadn’t known about the dance, as it was a surprise to show him what he meant to you. 
A smile formed on your lips, and you held out your hand toward him, walking his way. Steve was grinning beside the older man, giving him a pat on the back as Chucho stood and you approached. 
“Me?” he asked when you were close, pressing his fingertip to the center of his white-dress shirt-covered chest. 
You gently poked him over his heart. “You, Pop,” you said. “The best damn dad I’ve ever had, and I’m sorry for springing this on you, but if you’re willing, may I have this dance?” 
His eyes rounded, and he took your palm into his, smiling as he answered with a nod, “Yes, Mija. I apologize if I’m a bit rusty. I haven’t danced with anyone since mi Amor.” 
“Don’t stress,” you replied, swatting his apology away with your free hand. “We can just sway to the music. That’s always safe.” 
“Okay.” 
With that, you led him to the middle of the dance floor and faced him, Chucho holding your one hand up while your other was on his shoulder, his free palm resting on the center of your back. You easily followed his basic steps that had you sticking to a small area. 
His eyes were on yours. “This is one of my favorite songs,” he said. 
You smiled. “I know—it came on the radio the first time we made tamales together, and I remember you telling me it was one of your favorites.”
His face softened. “That’s what’s so great about you; you care, you really care, and not a day goes by without me thanking God for bringing you into our lives—it fills my heart with joy to see my Javi so happy, and I can breathe easier knowing that he finally found his media naranja (soulmate). We’re truly blessed to have you join our family, and I am lucky to be able to call you my daughter because you are my daughter.”
“Oh, Pop,” you said, holding back tears. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mija.” And the truth was shining in his eyes. 
“God, I’m trying so hard not to cry.” You took a deep, shaky breath, the two of you still slowly moving, swaying in a circle. “I’m lucky I have you and Javi—you’re such a great father, and you raised an amazing man.” The emotion was heavy in your voice as you continued speaking, your bottom lip wobbling, “I’m so unbelievably thankful and happy. I’ve never been this happy in my entire life.”
He gave you a happy smile. “You deserve it—now, let’s talk about something else so your beautiful makeup doesn’t get ruined by tears.” He lightly squeezed your hand in his. 
You huffed in amusement. “Thank you.” 
“Did I tell you mi Antonia loved the album this song was on?” he asked as you continued dancing. 
“You didn’t,” you answered with a shake of your head. 
"She played it all the time when it came out while she cooked or cleaned, and I'd come home to her beautiful voice singing along." It was obvious on his face that he was remembering fond memories. “She loved Juan Gabriel’s songs.” He was the writer of this song and an amazing Mexican singer-songwriter who collaborated with Rocío Dúrcal on many albums. “She had all of his albums, and she’d tell me to be quiet when he came on the radio.” He chuckled. “If we were home, and music was playing, any music, I’d just pull her into my arms, and we’d dance wherever we were in the house; it didn’t matter if we were in the living room, the kitchen, the hallway, or our bedroom, we’d just take a few minutes to ourselves and dance together.” You smiled, thinking about how Javi was the same way; if you put on a record to clean the apartment or turned on the radio to cook, it was a guarantee that he would make you stop and dance with him for at least one song. “That was something we did from the start of our relationship,” he continued, “until…” He swallowed thickly. “Until the very end.” His expression turned solemn, and you could tell the memory that came to him in that moment was painful to recall, your heart breaking for him that he lost the love of his life. He cleared his throat and tried to smile, but the pain was still there behind his eyes. “I see a lot of me and mi Amor in the two of you, and that’s how I know that what you have is real and that it’s gonna last.” 
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” He nodded. 
The chorus began, Rocío Dúrcal beautifully singing:
“Amor eterno (Eternal love) Y inolvidable (And unforgettable) Tarde o temprano estaré contigo (Sooner or later, I will be with you) Para seguir amándonos (To continue loving each other).”
Listening to the lyrics, it made sense that this was one of Chucho’s favorite songs—it perfectly captured someone’s grief and their longing to be with the person they lost again. It was rare, but it was known to happen that couples who loved as deeply as your father and mother-in-law did, passed away close together, with the second succumbing to their broken heart. It showed Chucho’s strength that he managed to survive after losing a part of himself—his soulmate—and you were thankful he was strong for your husband. You thought there was a possibility his wife told him he had to keep going for their son’s sake because she knew Javi, just as you did, and had he lost both of his parents, he would’ve self-destructed and been even more reckless in Colombia; it pained you to think that he probably wouldn’t have made it home alive.  
The thought of his mother’s possible dying wish and the strength of his father had your vision blurring with tears. You were so unbelievably grateful that Javi had parents who loved him so dearly and that he loved just as fiercely. 
Concern showed on Chucho’s face. “What’s wrong, Mija?” 
“Nothing.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m just happy—really happy.” 
His lips turned up. “I’m happy—really happy, too, and—” His smile evolved into a full-blown grin. “—excited. Now that you’re married, I know mi primero nieto está a la vuelta de la esquina (my first grandchild is right around the corner).” 
He made you laugh. “Yes, Pop. We’re hoping we’ll have a kid by the end of the year.” 
His eyes went wide. “Really? The end of the year?” 
“That’s what we’re trying for.” 
It always weirded you out how freely people announced they were fucking raw or, in PG terms, trying for a baby. With how much Chucho yearned to be a grandfather, he’d be beyond happy to know you were trying to make his dream come true, and you were right. 
As the song came to a close, he pulled you into him, hugging you tight, and you embraced him in return. “My son got married to a wonderful woman, and there’s a possibility I might be an abuelo (grandpa) by December. This is the best year of my life since Javi was born—thank you.” 
“No, thank you for raising an incredible man that I can’t wait to have a family with.”
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What he wished most was that he could share this amazing day with his wife. 
Chucho knew for certain Antonia would’ve been over the moon with happiness right along with him and would agree that this was turning out to be the best year of their lives since the birth of their son. 
What he would give for her to be here standing next to him, holding his hand, and getting a chance to hug her tight as they both cried from being overjoyed that their Javiercito was happy and married to a woman they loved. 
If his media naranja (soulmate) were here, he’d hold her in his arms and say, “Nuestro hijo a crecido, mi Amor (Our son has grown up, my Love). ¿Puedes creer que finalmente se casó y que podemos tener un nieto para fin de año (Can you believe he finally got married, and we may have a grandchild by the end of the year)?”
“¡Si dios quiere (God willing)!” she’d answer. “¡Es un sueño hecho realidad, mi Alma (It’s a dream come true, my Soul)! Criamos a un buen hombre, que sé que será un esposo y padre maravilloso (We raised a good man, who I know will be a wonderful husband and father).” He’d agree wholeheartedly and seal it with a kiss. 
As they grew older, Antonia’s reason for why Javi needed to hurry up and marry went from her wanting him to give them grandkids, to giving them grandkids and so she’d still be able to do a proper mother-son dance with him since her joints had started aching. Oh, how Chucho would’ve loved to see her dance with that good man they raised. 
He wished she could see with her own eyes that Javi was finally home and living the life they had always dreamt for him: having his own family with someone who truly cared about him, loved him, and made him happy. Chucho hadn’t seen their son thrive like this in almost twenty years, and Antonia’s heart would’ve burst with joy, like his did, every time she saw Javi’s big smile. 
There was no way for his Amor to be here in person, but she was with them in spirit. Tomorrow, he planned to take the camera film he used today down to the one-hour photo kiosk in the mall parking lot. After the pictures were developed, he’d go visit his Antonia to share them with her and tell her everything that happened; he may have lost her eight years ago, but he could still perfectly picture the beaming smile she’d give him upon hearing the news. 
The image in his mind lifted the corners of his lips—he missed that smile, as he missed her, especially today. 
He was excited to tell her how their new daughter had surprised him with a father-daughter dance to a song with special meaning. He found comfort in “Amor Eterno,” and for some weeks after his wife’s passing, that album she loved was all he listened to—it took years for him to be able to hear the song without crying. Now, he had a happier memory attached to it, which he appreciated.  
With the absence of the bride’s parents—who were unwelcome anyway and were not allowed to step foot on his property—Chucho had assumed there wouldn’t be a father-daughter dance or a mother-son dance, since his Amor couldn’t be there. He was touched that Javi’s Cielito thought so highly of him that she’d honor him with the dance. 
He welcomed her into their family the first time they met and had been ready to be a father-in-law to her, but when he heard about how her family treated and disrespected her, Chucho had no problem stepping up to be a father-figure if she so wished, and she did. This poor girl was so kind and truly wonderful; it saddened him that her parents didn’t love her as she deserved or supported her life choices. By no means were he and his wife perfect parents—there were things they wished they could’ve done differently with Javi, but they sure loved the hell out of him and supported him. A parent should want their child to be happy, healthy, and successful; as long as they’re happy and healthy, it shouldn’t matter what they decide to do with their life that they consider success. 
Swimming made Javi happy, and they did whatever they could to encourage him. 
They knew their son wasn’t happy in Colombia, but he was passionate about his job and wanted to get it done, so they continued cheering him on and were there for him whenever and however he needed them to be as best they could from home. 
Chucho was damn proud of the things his new daughter had achieved in her life, and he’d still be proud of her no matter what she did for work because the only thing that mattered was her happiness.
He knew her father was a well-educated man with many fancy degrees. Still, Chucho questioned the other man’s intelligence because he couldn’t seem to comprehend something so basic as caring about his kid’s well-being and loving them unconditionally. 
Frankly, Chucho was glad she was no longer under her parents’ scrutiny, and it felt good that she thought so highly of him as a dad that she honored him with the dance. 
Another surprise that warmed his heart was his son taking the time to dance a whole song with each of Chucho’s sisters. Javier went from oldest to youngest, starting with his tía María, to the song “¿Y Cómo es El?” by José Luis Perales, then his tía Lupe—who had him laughing while they moved around the dance floor—to “Sergio el Bailador” by Bronco, one of her favorite songs. Now, he was dancing with his tía Rebeca to “Piel Canela” by Eydie Gormé, the two slowly moving from side to side and talking. 
He stood at the edge of the dance floor taking pictures of his son and his baby sister; his sobrino (nephew), Sebastián, was beside him with a video camera, recording what was going on. 
“Hey, good lookin’,” Robyn said as she approached them from behind. 
Chucho lowered the camera from his face with a smile, his upper body twisting to the right to look at her. “Hola, Pajarito (Hi, little bird).” 
Seb interjected, “Sabes que ella estaba hablando conmigo, Tío (You know she was talking to me, Uncle).” He addressed the woman, “Hola, hermosa (Hi, beautiful).” The younger man had the camcorder held up but turned his head to accept a quick kiss from his girlfriend, who had to rise up on her toes to meet his mouth. 
She broke away, grinning, and replied, “No, I was greetin’ Chucho.” Her attention turned to him. “You’re lookin’ mighty handsome tonight, and I gotta say, it was lovely watchin’ you dance with my girl.” 
“It was lovely that she asked me.” 
The bride was sitting over at the table with the Murphys in his empty spot, the love clear in her eyes as she stared at her husband—it was sweet.
“What are you doing over here?” Seb asked her. She turned his way and stepped to have herself against his side. She wrapped her arms around his middle and tilted her head to meet his eyes. 
“You were standin’ here lookin’ like sex on legs, and I needed to come remind you that I’m takin’ your ass home tonight.” 
Chucho chuckled. It was easy to see why Robyn and his daughter were instant best friends the first time they met—neither had any shame and said what they were thinking. It was incredibly amusing. 
The younger man wore a little smile. “Yes, you are,” Sebastián replied. “I didn’t forget. You wanna stay with me? This is the last dance I have to record, and then I’m all yours.” 
“I think I will—if that’s alright with you,” she directed at Chucho, looking over her shoulder at him. 
He smiled. “You go ahead. I think I’ll head back to the table.” 
His knees were sore, and he needed to sit down for a little while. Just as the song was ending, he turned toward the table and saw that his new daughter was already standing at the corner of the dance floor, waiting for her husband. Javi gave his tía a quick hug, and Chucho smiled at how, the moment his son’s arms left Rebeca, he was zeroing in on his wife. 
Chucho wouldn’t say they hugged upon reaching each other; hug was too tame of a word to describe their intimate embrace, which almost had him blushing—and because he was a father whose sole purpose was to give his child or children a hard time, he lifted his camera, and snapped a picture so that he could tease them relentlessly later on. 
Wolf whistles sounded, people cheered, and he chuckled at the fact there was no denying Javier was his son—Chucho couldn’t keep his hands off his wife either, and if things had been different, if life was a little kinder, they probably would’ve had at least ten kids. He was more than happy with his one, though; su bendición (his blessing), who’d grown into an incredible man he couldn’t be prouder of. With all the good that had happened to Javier over the last year, he believed his son would have much better luck when it came to having children, and Chucho loved the idea of ten nietos (grandchildren) to spoil rotten. 
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The white satin hugging her ass was silky smooth beneath both of Javier’s palms, his tongue in her mouth, tasting the sweetness of powdered sugar and hints of the buttery nuttiness from a Mexican wedding cookie she’d eaten. He loved how her fingers tangled in his hair, and he wanted to drown in the scent of her perfume that had him feeling heady with its fruity, woodsy notes, Javier already half-hard in his pants.  
He was happy his father and tías had a chance to be honored with dances after all they’d done for him and Cielito, but the closer he got to finishing his last dance, the more his anticipation grew to be alone with his wife—it was taking everything in him not to drag her away right this second, but he was waiting for—
Diego spoke into the microphone, “¡Damas y caballeros, es hora de festejar (Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to party)! ¡Quiero verlos a todos en la pista de baile (I want to see you all on the dance floor)!” 
The whine of an accordion, accompanied by a quick beat, came over the speakers—it was the beginning of “La Chona” by Los Tucanes de Tijuana, and with the excited cheers and whistles, people were doing as his primo said, moving onto the dance floor. This was when the newlyweds could make their escape. Javier reluctantly ended the kiss, his hand latching onto her smaller one. 
“Come on,” was all he said, quickly leading her away from the party and out of the tent, her giggles trailing behind him. 
He was on a mission, hurriedly thanking those they passed by who congratulated them and getting her into the house, managing to make it through the kitchen to the entryway that his old bedroom was off of without his tía María noticing as she stood at the kitchen sink. Javier tugged Cielito into the room, pushing her back against the door he closed—his lips crushed onto hers in a searing kiss while he turned the lock on the doorknob and flicked on the light switch. 
All night, the tension had built to this moment that found them alone, behind a locked door, and both so desperate for the other that it was a frenzy of messy kisses and fumbling hands to get their clothes off—his tuxedo jacket was first to go, his tie next, her fingers popping open a few of his top shirt buttons; then he was hauling her away from the door, turning them so he was walking her backward into the bedroom, his digits deftly pulling down the zipper at the back of her dress. They came to a stop, the kissing continuing while he carefully pulled the straps off her arms, the silk wedding dress cascading to the floor to pool at her feet. 
Before the ceremony, when he snuck over here to talk to her as she got ready, she let him feel what she was wearing beneath the dress, and now he got to see. Javier held her fingers in one hand, unable to stop touching her, and took a step back to drink her in, his cock already throbbing and straining against the zipper of his dress pants. 
His eyes stared at her beautiful face and moved downward—he loved her with or without makeup; he didn’t have a preference since he always thought she was gorgeous, just as she was now, all dolled up. His gaze moved to her chest, seeing the white, lacy strapless bra for the first time, and his fingers itched to undo it to see her perfect tits. Lower, she had on stretchy spandex like her bicycle shorts that went halfway up her abdomen and midway down her thighs—her reasoning for wearing the Spanx was so she didn’t look ‘lumpy’ or have panty lines in her dress that tightly hugged her figure; Javier wasn’t a fan of them hiding her belly, or the idea that she felt self-conscious enough to hide it, but they made her feel comfortable, and that was all that mattered. Plus, he knew if she turned around, he’d love how good the spandex made her ass look. He would’ve had her show him, however, his attention was stuck on the blue garter wrapped around her thigh, sitting just above her knee. 
The strip of satin was dusty blue, with a bow made from the same material placed in the center over an overlay of ivory floral lace. The wedding tradition was to have the groom remove the garter and toss it into the crowd like the bride does with the bouquet, but Javier didn’t like the idea of getting under her dress in front of a tent full of people. It was something he wanted to do alone with her, because there was no way he was only removing the garter if he had a chance to get under her dress. 
Her beauty, her smell, that damn blue garter, and the fact that once it was off, he could strip everything else she was wearing from below the waist from her had him hitting his breaking point—he needed her so bad, he thought he might go insane if he didn’t have his face buried in her pussy within the next two minutes. His lips landed on hers, kissing her hard and swallowing her moan, relishing her fingers sliding back into his hair. Their tongues were entangled, and with his hands on her waist, he spun them to the left, moving her backward a few steps, to press her spine against the wall. His heart was pounding in his chest, arousal curling in his gut, and his breaths panted when his mouth left hers to nip at her chin. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, kissing a wet streak along her jaw. “So fucking beautiful.” His lips made a journey down her throat, sucking on her pulse point; she gasped, her hands pulling his hair harder, Javier groaning at the pleasurable pain. 
He spoke his words into her skin as he kissed along her chest, “You’re my wife, my beautiful, sexy wife.” His head dipped, and Javier lightly sunk his teeth into the top of her breast. 
“Javi,” she moaned. “Oh, god, why are you so hot?” 
He soothed over his bite with a kiss and said when his face lifted, “Because I’m the hunkiest hunk to ever hunk.” Javier smirked.
She giggled, grinning at him. “You’re a sexy dork, is what you are.” 
“Your sexy dork.” 
“Yes, you are.” Her hands pushed down on his shoulders, and he understood immediately, starting to lower himself, kissing her body as he went—her neck, her chest, her tits, her stomach; Javier chose to ignore his joints popping when he took a knee.
He removed her thin shoe as he lifted her foot to rest on top of his thigh. Keeping his eyes on hers, he took the garter’s silk between his teeth and slowly pulled it over her bent knee, going lower until it fell freely down her calf to her ankle, where he took it off. Javier slid the soft, smooth fabric over his hand and up his arm to wear it on his bicep for everyone to see. 
She was smiling down at him, her eyes darkened. “I am so in love with you.” 
“I’m so in love with you,” he replied, kissing the side of her thigh. He set her foot back onto the ground, their gazes locked while he took off and pocketed the golden cufflinks from his wrists, speaking as he began rolling up his sleeves, “I’m going to make you come with my mouth,” he said, finishing one, and starting on the second. “Then, as I told you earlier, I’m fucking you against this wall—” He nodded at the one behind her. “—while you taste your pussy on my tongue.” Both of his sleeves were rolled up his forearms. “Any requests?” he asked and got his fingers under the waistband of her Spanx. 
“Yes.” She nodded and cupped his cheek with her palm. “After you come deep inside me, where I promise to keep you all night, you’re going to tie your bow tie around my arm—if you're wearing my garter, then I'm wearing your bow tie." 
Javier wasn’t a possessive man, yet knowing she’d wear so many things to show she was his, and only his, had his chest swelling up with pride and happiness vibrating under his skin—like her, he wanted to broadcast to everyone that he was hers, and hers alone, and the ring on his finger wasn’t enough for him tonight. 
The sound he made was practically a growl as he tugged the stretchy fabric down her legs, revealing that she was wearing nothing beneath it. He couldn’t help himself and shoved his face between her legs, deeply inhaling her while freeing her foot from the shorts, her hands clutching his hair. Javier’s mouth was watering at the thought of tasting her, and he became impatient, raising the leg he freed onto his shoulder to give him room to work with—two of his fingers spread open the lips of her sex, seeing it glistening with her need for him. 
“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he said, and he meant it. Javier licked his lips, and he was unable to wait for another second, leaning in—
Knocking sounded on the bedroom door, his head whipping toward the noise. 
“Hey,” his dad’s muffled voice said, “when you’re finished getting ready, I told Connie that Nate can sleep in Javi’s old bed—the poor little guy can barely keep his eyes open, and the music is too loud for him to sleep out there. If only the nursery were finished, we could’ve had him give it a test drive.” Chucho chuckled. “Oh, and Mija, Robyn wanted me to tell you she requested one of your favorite songs.” 
Javier loved his dad a lot, especially how he cared about his friends’ family, but the man had the worst timing. Frustration had him wanting to pull his hair out because there was no way he could continue what they were doing when his sobrino (nephew) needed a place to sleep; that was more important than Javier getting his dick wet. He looked up at his wife to commiserate over their bad luck, and his stomach dropped at seeing her hands hiding her face in embarrassment—it reminded him of the first time he’d brought her out here to meet his dad and how mortified she’d been when the elder Peña knocked while Javier was inside her. Her discomfort had his arousal fizzling out, guilt and concern replacing it; he needed to make her feel better, so he slid a hand up the outside of her bare thigh to rub comforting circles on her hip. 
“Amor,” he whispered for just her ears. “Pop would be teasing the fuck out of us if he knew what we were up to—he doesn’t know.”
Her palms lowered, and her expression said she wasn’t sure if she believed him. 
“Give us ten minutes, Pop!” Javier said, loud enough for his father to hear. 
Her eyes rounded. “We are not fucking,” she hissed. 
His eyebrow arched, speaking quietly, “I know, and I’m no two-pump chump. We’d need more than ten minutes to fuck, baby.” He gently got her leg off his shoulder. 
“I’ll let Connie know,” Chucho said. “And I’ll make sure they don’t play the song until you’re out there.”
“Thanks, Pop!” Cielito replied. 
“You’re welcome, see you soon.” 
Javier used his hands on his knee to push himself up to stand, grunting as he rose to his feet in front of his wife. He rubbed his palms along her upper arms, then lifted her chin with his finger to make her look at him. 
“Are you okay?” he asked. 
She was frowning. “The risk of getting caught? Hot. It really gets me going. Actually getting or almost getting caught? Mortifying, and I’d rather the earth swallow me whole than experience it.” 
“Lo siento, mi amor (I’m sorry, my love). I know you hate when it happens. I get it if you want to hold off trying anything else before we leave. But, if you still wanna fool around while we’re out here, we’ll have better luck in the laundry room, or I can grab a lantern from the barn for the hayloft.” 
It was on her face that she was weighing his suggestions, and the fact that she was even considering had excitement thrumming inside him. He, of course, was fine with waiting to fuck until they got to the hotel room he was surprising her with tonight, but holy shit, was he unbelievably horny for her. 
“I’m not feeling the scratchiness of hay or getting my cute white dress dirty,” she responded. “I’d be down for the laundry room, though—you’re right, location-wise, it’s perfect.” 
He smiled big, happily chuckling as he kissed her. When he broke away, he nuzzled his nose against hers. 
“I really fucking love you,” he said. 
“I really fucking love you, too.” 
Javier pressed his large palm to her cheek and gazed into her eyes, the expression on her face just as happy as his. “Soy el hombre más afortunado del mundo de poder llamarme tu esposo (I am the luckiest man in the world to be able to call myself your husband).” 
Her eyes softened. “La afortunada soy yo (I’m the lucky one). Tengo el honor de ser tu esposa (I have the honor of being your wife)—” She poked him in the chest. “—y tener a tus bebés lindos (and having your cute babies).”
The happiness and excitement of all she said being true had him wrapping her up in his arms, her feet coming off the ground as he spun them around in place, making her laugh. When they came to a stop, he was panting, the two of them wearing matching grins, and Javier couldn’t think of another day in his entire life that he’d ever been as happy as he was today—it indeed was the happiest day of his life, and what made his eyes start misting was knowing this was the first of many happiest days of his life that were yet to come. 
It was she who kissed him this time, her hands grabbing his face to pull him into her as she smashed her lips against his. Javier leaned further into her, hugging her tightly to have as much of them touching as possible. He loved how their bodies fit so perfectly together—the softness of hers giving way to the hardness of his own. 
They wore big smiles when they separated, Cielito giggling at him playfully smacking her ass as she moved away. He turned to watch her approach his old full-size bed, unable to keep his eyes from roaming over her body from behind. 
God, she was sexy—how’d he get so lucky?
The dress she was wearing to the party was laid out atop the mattress, and he was so focused on checking her out that he missed what she picked up from beside her outfit. He wasn’t in the dark for long, though, with her purposefully keeping her back to him while pulling on a white lacy thong—he was still hard, and the sight had his dick twitching, a groan tumbling from his throat. Javier’s hands went to the front of his slacks to adjust himself, trapping his hard-on under the waistband of his pants. 
She looked at him over her shoulder, her pretty eyes sparkling with mischief, her lips lifted in a smile that told him she knew exactly what she was doing. “I wanted it to be a surprise for when we got home,” she said. “But, I kinda like you knowing what awaits when you get under my dress.” She winked. 
His feet were moving of their own accord. “Fuck, are you trying to kill me?” he asked, and as he got closer to her, he could see the lace lining the tops of her asscheeks that went around her waist had a floral design—sunflowers, to be exact. Before he could reach her, she spun around to face him, putting up her hand to keep him back; it pressed against his chest as he stopped.
“No touching,” she quickly told him with a smirk, his own lips turning down in a frown. “And kill you? No.” She shook her head. “Torture you? Maybe a little.” Cielito shrugged. 
“Torture your new husband? That’s pretty fucking mean, mi amor.” 
Her palm moved to caress his cheek. “Can’t a girl love it when her husband is needy for her?”
Javier took her hand and pressed it against the front of his pants, over his hard cock. “Feel how needy your husband is for you, how I want you more than anything, and am dying to be inside you—your ass in that fucking thong is all I’m gonna be able to think about until I get another chance alone with you.”
She squeezed him, and it had his mouth going slack, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped. 
"Good—that's exactly what I want." She pecked him on the lips and let go of him, her upper body twisting to grab her dress off of the bed. "Now, stop distracting me. I’m in a hurry," she said, pulling the garment over her head. Her arms went through the spaghetti straps, and she turned away from him again, holding the front of the dress to her chest, the back gaping open along the bodice. "Can you zip me up, babe? Pretty please." 
"Yeah," he answered and did as she requested, carefully zipping her up and managing to kiss her bare shoulder once before she faced him again. 
The day she bought the dress for the party, she showed it to him when she got home and even modeled it for him. At that time, he still had it in his head that he was going to do things right by her and wait to consummate their marriage until he got her to the hotel. When he saw her in the tight, white satin that went down to her knees with a goddamn slit halfway up her left thigh, Javier knew his strength was going to be tested tonight; he really did hope he could hold out.
Unfortunately, his resolve was thrown out the window the night before when he had to spend it alone, thinking about the sexy woman in front of him, and Jesus Christ, was she so fucking sexy—he could see now that it was a shorter, sexier version of her wedding dress with the neckline V-ing to accentuate her tits, while the buttery soft fabric molded to her curves perfectly like the other dress. 
“Do I look okay?” she asked, and his attention went to her face, seeing she was looking down at her body with a frown, which made him match her expression.  
Javier hated when she doubted her beauty, and he wished she could see from his perspective just how perfect she was. 
He lifted her chin with his finger to make her meet his gaze, and he smiled. “You look more than okay, Cielito,” he reassured her. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Yes,” he very confidently replied. 
His eyes moved down her form again, taking in her beauty, and he wet his bottom lip, silently cursing that they couldn’t stay in this room alone and uninterrupted for a quickie. His gaze reached hers one more, and amusement was clear on her face. She kissed his cheek as she walked around him to put on her shoe. 
“What?” he asked, turning in place to look at her. 
She kept her balance with a hand on the wall while fitting her flat back onto her foot.
“You’ve got ‘fuck me’ eyes,” she replied, setting her shoed foot on the ground and moving toward the door. 
He started heading her way. “I have ‘fuck me’ eyes?” he retorted. He was glad she was over her moment of self-consciousness. “Baby, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy all night, giving me ‘fuck me’ eyes.” 
She stopped to bend over and pick something up off of the floor, his gaze stuck on her ass, picturing the white lace he knew was under the satin.
“And I’m gonna keep giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes until you fuck me, Javier.” She straightened and spun on her heel to look at him. 
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you think I’m not trying hard enough?” 
“I think you’re doing the best you can in our current situation, and I know, without a doubt, you’re gonna use that big, sexy brain of yours to find us a way to fool around uninterrupted. I mean this lovingly,” she continued, reaching out to touch his arm with her palm. “You’re a stubborn man and horny stubborn Javi cannot be stopped—we both wanna fuck, and you’re gonna figure out a way for us to fuck, because you are a wonderful husband.” 
Javier loved hearing her call him a wonderful husband. 
He smiled. “You really think my brain is sexy?” 
Her eyebrow lifted. “Javi, baby, all of you is sexy, including your brain, and you are aware your intelligence turns me on—like how when we go stargazing, you nerding out about the stars makes me wet and is a very effective form of foreplay.” 
That was true—they always end up fucking when they go stargazing. Javier couldn’t stop his chest from puffing up a little that his wife was turned on by how smart he was. 
She rolled her eyes and kept talking, “It seems your ego has been stroked enough.” She held out his bow tie to him. “Here. Take this. We need to get going.” 
His brows furrowed—he thought they were adjusting their outfits to be more comfortable when they went back out to the party. He didn’t understand why she’d want him to put his tie back on. 
“Really? I’ll wear it, but you have to tie it.” 
His fingers started re-buttoning his shirt, and Cielito batted at his hands. “Stop that—you’re not wearing it, you’re tying it onto my arm. Remember?” 
She still wanted to wear his bow tie, which made his heart so happy it could burst. Javier grinned, accepting the long strip of black fabric. 
“I do,” he said, and she turned to give him better access to her arm, choosing the same side he had her garter on. He lifted her limb by the elbow and ducked his head to kiss a spot midway down her bicep, then looped his bow tie around where he kissed, tying it like he’d tie shoelaces. 
Before they left, they picked up their discarded clothes, hanging up her dress and his tuxedo jacket in his old closet, her Spanx getting put into her overnight bag, which she’d brought with her the previous night when she stayed over. His lips found hers one last time, then he took her smaller hand into his and led her out of the room.
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Music blared outside the house, but inside, it was dampened aside from the pounding bass that could practically be felt. They found Connie and their dad sitting at the kitchen table, Chucho holding the Murphy’s youngest and feeding him a bottle while he quietly chatted with the mother. 
Yeah, it sucked that Javier and his wife were interrupted before things could get good, but seeing the look of relief and gratitude on their friend’s face when they told her the room was hers completely washed away any bad feelings they had. See, since he and Cielito were trying to start their family, babies were on both of their brains, and they could put themselves into Connie’s shoes, wanting to help out the mother in any way possible; after she left the kitchen with Nate, his father explained that Steve had the two older kids back at the party eating cake, and Chucho happily volunteered to give Connie a hand even though she vehemently protested. He told her he wanted to get some practice in being an abuelo, and she thought that was so sweet she let him make the bottle—which he knew how to do from when Javier was a baby and from the bottle-fed calves on the ranch, like Daphne and Velma—and try to get Nate asleep by feeding him, an endeavor he succeeded in doing. 
Chucho was pretty fucking proud of himself. 
He told them he picked Connie’s brain about what he should get for the nursery because things weren’t as simple as they were back when Javier was born—he somehow figured out a way to write down a list while feeding Nate, and at the top of it, ‘Diaper Genie’ was underlined twice, and circled. 
They loved their father’s excitement over becoming a grandfather. Even with the pressure sometimes stressing them out, Chucho meant well, and they appreciated the extra support. 
Minutes later, the newlyweds found themselves under the tent and on the dance floor.
Javier knew which song Robyn requested the moment he heard the opening synthesizers—if his wife ranked her favorite ABBA songs, “Lay All Your Love On Me” would take the top spot, and her ear-splitting squeal as it came on confirmed as much. 
His hands were on her hips while her arms were around his neck, and up until this point, her eyes had been closed as they moved to the rhythm of the previous song; now they were open, and the expression on her face showed her pure delight, which made him smile. She threw her hands up when the drums kicked in, bouncing on her toes to the beat. 
She sang along with the track:
“I wasn’t jealous before we met…”
If it wouldn’t ruin her performance, Javier would tell her after each of the lines that there wasn’t a single woman on the entire planet that was a threat to her, and he liked that she was a little possessive of him; that he was the only man she wanted, and she staked her claim that he was hers. 
The following line had her miming taking a drag of a cigarette, and it made him chuckle before a tingle was moving down his spine at her palm pressing to his cheek as she stared deeply into his eyes. With the time since they left his old bedroom, Javier had calmed down to the point that he wasn’t hard anymore, something he didn’t think would last. 
“But now it isn’t true.” 
Her hand moved to rest over his thudding heart. 
“Now everything is new
And all I’ve learned has overturned I beg of you.” 
She had both of her palms on his chest, their gazes locked, and he knew he was fucked. 
“Don’t go wasting your emotion—”
As she sang, her darkened eyes stayed on his as her body lowered, her hands following, dragging them down his abdomen, over his stomach, his waist, his thighs, to the tops of his knees until her head was at the same level as his crotch. With how she was looking up at him under her eyelashes and how close she was to his dick, his mouth went dry, the blood rushing to his groin. He had to hold back his groan at the thought of how she would’ve nuzzled the front of his pants if they were alone. He needed to touch her and rested his hands on her bare shoulders. 
She continued singing:
“—Lay all your love on me.” 
His wife rose, rubbing her palms back up the way they came, and it was embarrassing that he was so pent up that just her touch was fucking him up. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead; she had him feeling hot enough that he had to undo another button on his shirt. 
Cielito faced away from him, grinding her ass against his half-hard cock, and she rolled her head back onto his shoulder, reaching a hand behind her to thread fingers into his hair. His hands fell to her hips, pulling them back into his, and when he turned his head to look at her as she sang that ‘a grown-up woman should never fall so easily,’ she was giving him those damn ‘fuck me’ eyes—he loved her so fucking much, but she was going to be the death of him. 
He let his body move with hers and thought it wasn’t fair that he was the one getting worked up—two could play this very dangerous game. Javier ducked his head to kiss along the skin of her shoulder and up to her neck, where he sucked over her pulse. The way her voice faltered for a second only encouraged him. 
He grazed his teeth across the pounding pulse point, ending with a nip to her jaw. 
“—Fuck,” the last word was moaned, and he smiled, feeling her entire body shiver. 
His wife caught onto what he was doing and spun away from him to end up at his back with her front pressed to his spine—her arms went around him, singing while her palms started at his belly and trailed up his torso to his pecs where he grabbed them. He raised one of her hands, rubbing it against his smooth cheek, and then kissed the center of her palm. 
This wasn’t the first time she’d done something like this, and Javier didn’t know what it was about this song in particular that riled her up so much. When “Lay All Your Love On Me” came on while they were by themselves at home, her antics were even hornier, and she usually made him sit back on the couch while she gave him a fully-clothed lap dance. Her kryptonite, though? The thing that made it a 100% guarantee they were going to fuck after the song? Was him singing it. He loved that the simplest things turned her on, and if it got her to disappear to the laundry room with him, he had no problem exploiting her weakness. 
He turned in her hold, slotting his knee between both of hers, his hand gripping her hip while the other grasped her palm, and he started moving them to the music in the little space they occupied. His lips went to her ear, and she immediately went quiet as he softly crooned along with the song:
“‘Cause everything is new
And everything is you
And all I’ve learned has overturned
What can I do?” 
“You can kiss me,” she said, breaking her hand free from his to grab his face with both of hers to kiss him hotly. 
He gave as good as he got, wrapping one arm around her middle, his free hand cradling the back of her skull. She sought entrance to his mouth with a swipe of her tongue along the seam of his lips, and he eagerly opened to tangle his own with hers. 
How they knew each other so well had happiness swelling inside him. She was his best friend, the love of his life, and there wasn’t anyone else he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.  
The two of them were breathing hard when their lips detached at the song’s end, both smiling. She was giving him that look that told him she was on the same page as him for where they were about to go. 
“You wanna get out of—” His question died when someone clapped him on the shoulder. 
“Hey, Jav?” Steve said to get his attention, and Javier couldn’t help his glare when he looked at the other man. His friend’s expression pinched in confusion. “Why the hell are you giving me that look?” 
Javier took a deep breath and slowly let it out, schooling his features to hide his annoyance. “What did you need?” 
“It’s getting kind of late for the kids, and Olivia was looking forward to dancing with you. Can you dance to one song with her? It’d mean a lot to her, and to me ‘cause it’ll get her to stop talking to that boy, Efraim.” Steve jutted his thumb back toward their table where Olivia was laughing at Efraim, who was one of his primo’s kids and about her age. Chucho was over there, too, with Connie, a baby monitor in front of her, and both adults watching Stevie, the three-year-old playing with his Ninja Turtle action figures on the table next to them, the woman saying something to his dad. His friend was frowning. “I’m not ready for my baby girl to like boys, and I don’t like that he’s making her laugh so much.” 
The reminder that he promised Olivia a dance was like having ice-cold water poured over him, his stomach dropping to the floor that he’d forgotten. He took in what Steve said, and he wanted to be annoyed with the older man’s overprotectiveness, but once again, he could step into the parent’s shoes. He also wouldn’t be ready for his nine-year-old daughter to like boys—if he had a daughter, he wouldn’t be ready for her to like boys at any age, even though that was irrational, and he knew it’d happen at some point; hopefully when she was twenty-five, or better yet, thirty. 
“Efraim’s a sweet kid, Steve,” Cielito said. “Olivia is just making a new friend—you weren’t complaining earlier when Javi was dancing with his tías, and she was playing with all those other children.” Most of Javier’s fourteen cousins had more than one kid, and that meant there were a lot of children running around.
“That was a group,” Steve replied. “I’m not big on this one-on-one stuff.” 
Javier could see this heading into an argument between his wife and best friend, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with that, so he’d nip it in the bud. 
His attention turned to Cielito, rubbing his palms along her arms. “Hey,” he said, and she looked at him. “I’m gonna go dance with Olivia. I promised her I would, and I’ll feel like shit if I don't keep my word.” He leaned in closer to whisper in her ear. “Don’t wander off—as soon as I’m done, you’re coming with me, and I’m getting you out of those panties.” To punctuate his sentence, he grabbed a handful of her ass, making her giggle. 
“You better.” She winked, and he smiled, giving her a quick kiss. 
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Past-you deserved a high-five for thinking to fool around on the drive back to Chucho’s. The thought of how insanely grumpy Javi would be right now if you hadn’t was enough to make you shudder. Steve should honestly thank you for saving him from getting his head chewed off when he derailed your sexy laundry room plans. 
Having your two attempts at horny rendezvous interrupted wasn’t great, and you were starting to develop whatever the woman equivalent of ‘blue balls’ was. You couldn’t be mad at Pop or Steve, though, because they had good reasons: Nate needing a place to sleep away from all the noise? Understandable—the living room couch was taken by a couple of Javi’s cousin’s babies, and since Chucho gutted the guest bedroom to turn it into a nursery, Javi's old bed was the only option for the Murphy’s one-year-old. Steve, reminding your husband that he promised Olivia a dance? A good reminder, because if they left while Javi and you were busy fucking, your husband would’ve been really upset with himself for letting her down; he already worried about her feeling like she was less important to him with all of the changes in his life, and forgetting the dance would’ve been devastating for them both. 
What this highlighted was how much of a family man Javier was. His desires came secondary to his family’s needs, and that showed what a wonderful husband he already was.
You married a good, good man, and dear god, he was so hot. 
Diego was playing another track by Los Tucanes de Tijuana with a quick beat, “El Tucanazo.” Olivia was laughing as Javi made her twirl with a grin on his flushed face and pulled her back to him. With their height difference, his arm was fully extended to hold her shoulder, her small palm resting on his elbow, while his other hand kept her tinier one up to lead her in simple steps that involved a lot of him twirling her—she was absolutely loving it. 
It had you imagining Javier dancing with your future daughter, and what really gave you the warm fuzzies was knowing he’d start dancing with her as a baby in his arms—he’d dance with all of your babies. 
What a wonderful husband and future father. 
“Spin, tía!” Stevie yelled in your arms.
Right. When Javi asked Olivia to dance, the three-year-old felt left out and got upset, so in order to stop him from having a total meltdown—it was past his bedtime—you offered to dance with him, as his new tía and the wedding’s bride. You had him on your hip, holding his little hand in yours, and you accidentally got distracted by your husband’s hotness. 
“Sorry, kiddo,” you replied, bouncing with him to the music’s rhythm. The child giggled each time you spun, going one way, then the other, and pausing every once in a while so you didn’t get dizzy. During one of those pauses, you happened to catch Javi’s dark eyes staring at you, and it made you feel pretty incredible that he was just as distracted by you.
When the song ended, Connie and Steve decided it was time to get their children back to their hotel. They weren’t accustomed to these parties that went on for hours like your new family was, and they didn’t want to mess with boys’ sleep schedules too much. Goodbyes were made outside of the tent, with the promise to Olivia and Stevie that you’d all eat an early dinner together the following day at their hotel’s restaurant before their flight home. After watching the Murphys walk back into the house to get Nate on their way to their SUV out front, the two of you were alone, Javi holding you from behind with his chin on your shoulder. 
“Five minutes?” you asked, “Or should we play it safe and wait ten?”
“Five minutes isn’t enough time,” he spoke in your ear. “Connie will have everyone use the bathroom before their drive back into town. We add in Nate maybe needing a diaper change, and we’re looking at a minimum of ten minutes before they’re out of the house and on their way.” 
You hugged his arms to you, smiling. “Look at you having the family-with-small-children math down,” you said, turning your head to kiss his cheek. “What do you wanna do while we wait?” 
“We could make out?” 
“That sounds like a good time.” 
Diego came over the speakers, announcing, “Bien, vamos a frenar las cosas (Okay, let’s slow things down).” Selena’s “Dreaming Of You” started playing.  
“Or,” Javi started, “we could slow dance…?” 
“What a romantic man—may I have this dance, Mr. Peña?” 
“You may, Mrs. Peña.” He kissed a spot behind your ear, then moved to take your hand, leading you back into the tent to the dance floor that was occupied by many other couples. 
When he suggested slow dancing, you imagined it’d be like how you danced your first dance, and at home in the kitchen many times before, with him leading you by one of your hands while the two of you slowly moved. You weren’t expecting him to loop your arms around his neck or for him to pull you into him with his big palms midway between your waist and ass to have you dancing like a couple of teenagers at prom. You nestled your face in the crook of his neck where he dabbed some of his spicy cologne, and the two of you swayed back and forth while Selena sang about there being nowhere else in the world she’d rather be than in her room, dreaming about herself with the one she loved. 
This was the first moment all day where you felt relaxed—there were no more worries about setting up the party, the ceremony was done, and so were the dances. Now, you were just another pair on the dance floor, slowly moving to the music. There was no need for talking. Both of you simply enjoying the other’s company without everyone’s attention on you. 
When the song ended, you still needed to kill another handful of minutes, and that was how you ended up camped out by the house’s backdoor, sharing a slice of your wedding cake—it was vanilla cake with lemon curd filling and raspberry buttercream icing. Like all of Anna’s baked goods, the cake was incredible. You each had your own plastic fork while Javi held the small paper plate. Your husband kept peeking through the door’s window, trying to keep out of the way of the few people going in and out of the home. 
A disappointed sound came from you when, in the middle of taking a bite, Javi suddenly tossed the rest of the cake into a nearby trashcan along with his fork and grabbed your hand. 
“Let’s go,” he said, and you only had a split second to toss your own fork into the garbage before you were getting tugged along into the house. 
The backdoor led down a hall to the kitchen, and just inside the door to the right was the staircase that went up to Chucho’s room. If you walked a little further down the hallway, the guest bathroom was on the right, and another hallway was to the left, which would take you to the guest bedroom—soon to be nursery—and the laundry room. 
Anticipation swelled inside you, arousal burning in your belly again now that you were on your way to finally having your husband alone and uninterrupted. The two of you were being as quiet as possible so as not to draw any attention to you, and once you entered the darkened hallway to your destination, you found yourself getting pressed back against a wall and Javi’s lips claiming yours—this wasn’t a chaste kiss; it was filthy with how his tongue plundered your mouth, feeling his desperation and need to have you. Your fingers clutched at the front of his dress shirt, and with his strength, he pulled you along by the hips, Javi walking backward while your lips stayed fused together. 
The bass of the track Diego was playing could be heard, but the closer you got to the laundry room, there were other muffled noises, one staying on beat with the song and another—
“Harder,” Robyn moaned on the other side of the door, and the dull smacking sound got louder. 
You and Javi came to a sudden stop, his mouth breaking away from yours as his head turned at breakneck speed toward the obvious sounds of your best friend and his cousin fucking in the laundry room. 
“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” your husband quietly growled. 
From where you were standing, you could make out Sebastián grunting as he continued to thrust, “You’re mine, aren’t you? You’re my good little slut—say it.” 
“I’m your good little slut,” Robyn breathily whined. 
“That’s fucking right—open your mouth.” There was the unmistakable sound of the other man spitting, and you were stuck in place, eyes wide. “Swallow—that’s it, mi petirrojito (my little robin). You gonna come for me? You need my hand around that pretty throat?” 
Now, you and Robyn had discussed your sex lives at length, so you were aware of her kinks, but knowing and hearing were two different things, and she was really making you wonder if there was some merit to her calling you and Javi ‘vanilla.’ Your husband had apparently heard enough and took your hand once more to lead you back outside. 
From how tense his body was and the way he practically stormed out of the house with you in tow, you could tell your husband was pretty ticked off. He only stopped when you were in front of Daphne and Velma’s small metal-fenced corral, where the two calves were let loose—they were lying down together and got up when they saw you two making your way over. 
“Stay here,” Javi ordered. He let go of your hand, but you grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving. 
“Wait.” He looked at you, anger that you knew wasn’t directed at you etched on his face. “Where are you going?” 
His features softened the longer he gazed at you. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, perching his palms on his tiny hips. “I’m sorry, mi amor—I’m just—” He looked around to make sure no one was nearby and quietly continued, “—really fucking horny—”
“You’ve got blue balls,” you interrupted. 
He huffed in amusement, smiling a little. “Yeah, I’ve got blue balls, and I think I might go insane—”
“If we’re cockblocked again?” 
He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Yes. Three fucking times—three!” he harshly whispered, holding up three fingers for emphasis. “Over my dead fucking body will we be cockblocked a fourth time, so I’m getting us some goddamn privacy away from all of these people—I love them all, but I love you, my wife, more, and I’m dying to stick my dick in you. I need you to stay right here. That way, I’ll know where to find you after I get shit arranged.” 
That sounded like he was ready to go. 
Grabbing his left hand, you pulled his arm toward you and angled your head to read the silver Rolex watch on his wrist under the light of the string lights above. “It’s not even ten, babe. We’ll get so much shit from your family if we dip this early.” Your eyes met his. “They’ll be partying til two or three in the morning at minimum, and we’re gonna leave at 9:42?” 
The fingers of his free hand pressed to his forehead, and he sighed again. “If you really wanna stay,” he grumbled, “we’ll stay and wait to leave closer to midnight.” His tone said that was the last thing he wanted to do, and you understood where he was coming from. 
You reached to caress his cheek. “I’m fine with leaving, Javi,” you told him. “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t the horny talking, and you understand we are going to get absolutely roasted at tía María’s next Sunday if we leave right now.” Every Sunday after his family got out of church, they went to tía María’s for good food and to catch up on what happened over the week. 
His hand lowered, and he looked at you with hopeful eyes. “Are you okay with getting teased at tía María’s next weekend if we leave right now?” 
You gave him a reassuring smile. “Oh, yeah,” you replied, nodding. “I’m dealing with the lady equivalent of blue balls, and I’ll accept all of the teasing if it means you’re gonna fuck me very soon.” 
Once again, it was adorable how his face lit up, and he giddily chuckled. “Christ, I love you so fucking much,” he said and framed your face with his palms, Javi leaning in to kiss you tenderly. 
When his mouth left yours, he was still smiling, and he lifted your left hand, keeping his eyes on yours while he kissed the diamond on your engagement ring and then the smooth gold of your wedding band. “I’ll be back,” he told you, and didn’t let go of your fingers as he started heading toward the tent, your arm extending all the way before his hand and himself slipped away from you. 
If you had to guess, Javi wanted you to stay in this spot so your bovine daughters could keep you company, which they were, the girls sticking their snouts between the corral’s bars for you to pet their heads. What your husband failed to think about was your location meant that, when Robyn and Seb came out of the house a few minutes after he left, you had no choice but to talk to them. For you, it was awkward pretending like you didn’t hear them fucking as you tried to convince your best friend to go enjoy the party with her boyfriend instead of staying with you while Javi was gone. Luckily, Sebastián was able to lure her away with promises of drinks and dancing. 
The remaining minutes you waited for your husband’s return were spent with the two calves. You scritched behind their ears, and they licked your arms as you told them how much you loved them and their dad and shared your excitement over them eventually becoming older sisters to a human sibling. 
Chucho had gifted you and Javi enough land for the home you were building that Daphne and Velma could live with you—a barn would be built, and you’d have a couple of pastures for the girls to roam. There was room for the garden you always dreamed of, a greenhouse, and even a chicken coop; your husband also planned on buying you a horse. Living out in the country was never something you imagined in your wildest dreams, yet now it seemed perfect for your life with Javier. 
When your husband found you, he held up what you knew was the key to his father’s prized ‘68 Ford Mustang, and he had to be excited, even if you couldn’t tell from his expression. In the over thirty years Chucho had owned the car, Javi had never been allowed to drive it—Chucho let you drive it, though, many times, which your husband was extremely jealous about. His dad made him a deal that when he married you, he could finally get behind the wheel, and you’d been waiting all night for Chucho to hand over the keys. 
Javi walked over to the fence to address the two calves in the sweet voice he saved for them, scratching each of the girls under their chins, “Lo siento, mis preciosas, pero necesito robar a tu mamá (I’m sorry, my lovelies, but I need to steal your mom). Me ha estado volviendo loco toda la noche, y es hora de que la lleve a casa y la vuelva loca (She’s been driving me crazy all night, and it’s time for me to take her home and drive her crazy) Las amamos y las veremos en un par de días (We love you and we will see you in a couple of days).” 
The moment he finished speaking, he looked at you with a smile on his handsome face. 
“Sorry it took me so long,” he said. “Pop gave me a long-ass lecture about the car and made me promise to be careful with it. He was acting like he wasn’t the one who taught me how to drive around the ranch when I was ten years old in the old work truck.” 
“Of course he lectured you. The Mustang is his baby.” 
His eyes darted away, sticking his hands in his pockets. “That he always lets you drive,” he mumbled. 
See, extremely jealous. It made you giggle. 
“You need some peanut butter with that jelly, Mr. Peña?” 
His attention came back to you, and this time, he was frowning.
“No.” He shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, baby. You know it bothers me how easily he hands over the keys to you, but I only get to drive it this once. Or at least not again until we have a kid.” 
Chucho would definitely let Javi drive the Mustang again if you had a child. 
“Did he tell you where you could and couldn’t take it?” you asked. 
His eyebrows creased. “No… He had a lot of rules about the type of terrain I could drive it on, but as long as I bring it back tomorrow with a full tank, I can drive you anywhere.” 
Stepping forward into his space, you rested your palms against his chest, his arm automatically pulling you closer. “He trusts you more than me.” 
“Why do you say that?” 
“Because I am only allowed to drive it if he’s in the car with me, and I can only go where he tells me to. He trusts you enough to let you borrow the Mustang and go wherever you want without him present—he trusts you more. Now, Mr. Peña, how about we make a quick pit stop at the bathroom to wash up, then we blow this popsicle stand so I can blow your popsicle on the drive home?” You wagged your eyebrows, Javi chuckling. 
“You can blow my popsicle later, but yeah, let’s get the fuck out of here, Mrs. Peña.” 
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With it being winter in southern Texas, the temperatures had cooled, but at this time of night, a coat wasn’t required when one went outdoors. Javier still kept the top up on the Mustang and turned on the heater to keep his wife warm since all she was wearing was that cute little dress that he hiked up enough to grip her bare thigh as they drove. 
Cielito was confused when they pulled out of his dad’s driveway and started heading in the opposite direction of town. She figured he’d take her straight home, and Javier thought her faith in him to hold out another thirty-plus minutes to drive them to their accommodations for the night was sweet. He, however, could not wait any longer and took them fifteen minutes up the road and through a gate that he had to get out and open, to the field they usually parked his pickup in to stargaze—driving off-road was on his father’s list of terrain he was not supposed to take the Mustang on, but this was a desperate time that required desperate measures, and what his father didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him. 
Javier was going slow over the uneven ground, his eyes scanning everything in the path of the headlights for any animals—thankfully, this time of year, a lot of the creatures considered dangerous were hibernating or in a state close to hibernating, and his family, who worked on the ranch, did a good job of keeping predators off his dad’s land. He was still double-checking to ensure his wife was safe, even if he wasn’t worried about them running into anything. 
“Javi?” She squeezed his hand on her thigh. 
“Yes, mi amor?” 
“I know I said stargazing was a very effective form of foreplay, but with how horny I am, all I need is a little bit of kissing and I’m good to go—there’s no need for you to woo me with your knowledge of the stars.” 
“We’re not stargazing,” he replied, bringing the car to a stop and putting it into park. He looked over at her face, which was slightly illuminated by the Mustang’s lights in front of them, and smiled. “A little bit of kissing for me and I’ll be good to go, too.” He turned in his seat toward her, taking her chin between his index finger and thumb to gently pull her forward, and he met her halfway, his lips crashing into hers. 
One kiss and the dam broke, all of their pent-up need for the other flooding their systems, his wife growling when she deepened it, sliding her tongue against his. Blood rushed to his groin, and Javier moaned when her hand pressed to the front of his pants to stroke over his thickening cock. Her tongue in his mouth, her palm between his legs, the scent of her perfume—she was driving him crazy, and he wanted her to feel the same; he got his hand under her dress, ghosting his fingers along her inner thigh to the heat at her center. His fingertips felt her arousal seeping through her panties, and he groaned at the fact she was ready to go. All he’d have to do was push aside the fabric, and he could slide right in—and he did just that with his fingers, moving the lace out of the way to press his middle and ring fingers into her sopping pussy, soaking his gold wedding band in her juices. He swallowed her shuddering moan, his crooked digits easily pumping in and out of her.  
When he decided to bring her out here, he had a plan: he was going to sit her on the hood of the car and finally eat her out, then he would’ve fucked her on it. His plan changed when he felt how wet she was for him, and now all he wanted, no, needed, was to get his dick inside her. 
He removed his fingers, Cielito chasing his lips when he pulled away, turning his attention to the steering wheel and the controls beside it. Squinting his eyes, he tried to find what he was looking for in the dark and pressed a button that made the roof begin to open. 
“Thank fuck,” he whispered under his breath. In the time it took to get the top down, Javier undid his seatbelt, pushed his seat back as far as it would go, and reclined it all the way to have it almost flat. He didn’t have to say a word when he gently tugged her arm; there wasn’t a center console between the seats, just a low column, so it was easy for her to unbuckle and crawl over into his lap while he laid down. 
Arousal was simmering in his gut and threatening to boil over. It didn’t help when she lifted his left hand and leaned down to suck his ring finger into her mouth—she hummed appreciatively at tasting herself, the sensation of her sucking his digit causing his cock to twitch, his heart pounding in his chest. 
“Turns you on that I’m wearing the ring,” he rasped. “You love that people can see I’m yours.” 
She came off of him, raising her head with a smile. “Yes,” she answered. “It’s so fucking sexy—now, it’s time to get that pretty dick out so I can sit on it.” 
He smiled at her impatiently opening his pants, getting his belt unbuckled and undone, then popping open the button and pulling down the zipper. She rose, and so did his hips, Javier shoving his slacks and boxer briefs down enough to free his throbbing length and sat once more. 
She was looking down. “The prettiest dick,” she said, and he watched her lick her palm, his mouth falling open as she took him in hand, giving him a couple of strokes. Christ, he could feel the metal of her rings and was so worked up that just her touch had him close to coming. Sweat was forming on his forehead as he tried to focus on his breathing and not blow his load all over her fingers. “If you come immediately,” she started, her other hand moving her underwear out of the way for her to notch him at her entrance. Javier swallowed hard and grabbed the meat of her thighs for something to hold onto. “It’s totally okay,” she continued. “I know you’ll make it up to me later.”
She meant what she said, and he appreciated her understanding, but he really wanted her to come first, and he was going to try his hardest to make that happen. 
Cielito didn’t give him a chance to respond before she was sliding, agonizingly slow, down his shaft, her hot, tight walls enveloping him, taking him inch by inch. He couldn’t help the pained sound he made or how his back arched, his fingers digging into her soft skin. She had her palms on his chest for leverage, her eyes fluttering closed, her head thrown back as she let out a long, drawn-out moan that lasted until she met his thighs, and he was buried to the root in her.
“Nothing feels better than you inside me,” her words were breathy. 
Javier was fighting for his life—a fire was blazing in his belly, and he was balancing on a razor’s edge to not fall over and come immediately. He gripped the soft curves of her hips to hold her flush against him because he didn’t know how much friction he could handle. 
His breaths were coming out heavier, and he gulped, telling her through clenched teeth, “Don’t move.” 
She looked at him, the soft glow of the stars high above allowing him to make out her features, and her expression said she was delighted he was so close. He was pretty sure she was the only woman on the planet who took it as a compliment when a man came way sooner than he intended. 
“I said it’s okay if you come.” She wiggled, and Javier hissed. He used more strength to keep her completely still. 
“I’m not coming before you.” 
The Mustang​​ was a little cramped, and in order for her to fit on top of him, she had to strategically place her knees on things that weren’t the seat, like the low column that the gear shift was in and a ledge on the door used for an armrest. 
“You are a stubborn man, Javier Peña,” she said. 
“I’ll show you how stubborn I am,” he replied, and she squeaked in surprise when he pulled her forward to kiss him. His hand went to her back, unzipping her dress, and she understood what he wanted, getting her arms out of the straps while he undid her strapless bra that fell into the dress’ bodice. 
Javier had her sit up again, and he stared at her above him, thinking how gorgeous she looked; she was always stunning, and he thought she was even more beautiful now that she was his wife—he couldn’t believe she had married him. He got to fuck this perfect woman for the rest of his life, and he felt like the luckiest man in the world. He was hard inside her and pulsating, the muscles in his stomach clenched tight with all of his effort being put into not coming. 
“Stay still,” he ordered. 
“Yes, Papí,” she sweetly replied. Her answer made him groan, his cock jerking. 
“Don’t,” he said and smacked her ass, which only made her giggle. Javier licked the pad of his thumb, then pressed it to her clit, and he loved how her breath hitched. “I’m gonna make you come,” he stated, circling the bundle of nerves. She tightened around him, and he grit his teeth, clearing his throat before he spoke again, his voice low, “I’m gonna make you come,” he repeated. “Then I’m going to fuck you, and we both know I won’t be able to last long, and that’s fine.” It was getting wetter where they were joined, her arousal dripping down to coat his balls. “Because after this—” His other hand reached to fondle her breast, her eyes squeezing shut when he rolled her nipple between his fingers. “—I’m taking you to the hotel I rented us a room at.”
“Javi,” she gasped and looked at him. 
He smiled, speeding up the pace of his thumb. “I plan on fucking all night, and I don’t want to be interrupted by Mrs. Hernandez banging on the wall because we’re being too loud—so, a hotel room—La Posada downtown.” It was the nicest hotel in Laredo and much better than the Motel 6 off the highway. “The Presidential suite, top floor. I’m gonna fuck you in the king-size bed, I’m gonna fuck you in the whirlpool tub, I’m gonna fuck you in the two-person shower, I’m gonna fuck you out on the balcony overlooking the Rio Grande, I’m gonna fuck you on every single surface in that room over the next two nights.” 
Her eyes widened. “Two nights?” 
“Yes. For everything I wanna do, one isn’t enough, and the first thing I’m doing when we get there is throwing your ass onto the bed and eating you out—my come and all—for an hour.” 
Her head fell back as she moaned. 
His fingers continued pinching and rolling her stiff nipple. Her inner walls were fluttering, and he knew she was close with how she was unable to keep quiet, the soft sounds spilling from her lips and going straight to his cock. 
“Are you gonna come for me?” he asked. “Are you gonna come for your husband? Once you go, I’m going to come deep inside your perfect pussy, and I’m going to keep you stuffed full of me—if you aren’t already pregnant, you will be.” 
Shit, that last bit almost got him. Javier’s jaw was clenched, his heart beating a mile a minute. 
It didn’t take much more to have her falling over the edge—her entire body seized up, her cunt choking his dick, as she shattered with a cry of his name. 
“Fuck,” he panted. She was spasming around him, and the moment she went lax, he grabbed her ass, lifting her enough to thrust up into her. His feet were planted on the floorboard, and he started fucking into her rapidly, grunting with each stroke. 
She fell forward and began mouthing at his neck.
“Oh, fuck,” he whined, closing his eyes. 
After getting worked up so many times tonight and now being able to give in, he was hitting the point where he couldn’t stop himself from coming in record time even if he wanted to. It felt like his heart would beat out of his chest, and his wife was now nibbling on his earlobe, which wasn’t fair. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, pleasure welling up inside him. 
The muscles in his belly were winding tight, the fire now an inferno that would explode at any second. 
Her lips pressed to his ear. “Come for me,” she whispered. “Come inside your wife. Put a baby in me.” 
She was a siren, and he was a sailor at the mercy of her call—his balls tightened up, and he pulled her ass down, sheathing himself to the hilt inside her, coming with a guttural groan. His dick jerked and pulsed with spurts of his spend gushing into her inner depths, euphoria taking over his entire being. Everything went quiet, his mind going blissfully blank and his body relaxing.
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The air was cool against your skin, yet you were warm, wrapped in Javi’s arms as you laid atop him, your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck. Here in the afterglow was when time ceased, and it felt as though you were the only two people in existence. Your body was all nice and relaxed; the need to get off had finally subsided… for now. 
Learning that your husband booked you the Presidential suite at the fancy, old historic hotel downtown and the promises he made of all of the places in it he planned to fuck you already had arousal stirring low in your gut.
Javi’s breaths had evened out, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you, and though he wasn’t snoring, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was asleep right now with how hard he came. The Mustang was still running, a low rumble amongst the peace of a Texas winter’s night. 
Rustling in the grass outside the car had your ears perking, and suddenly, your husband was bolting upright with you on top of him. Your back slammed into the steering wheel, the blaring honk of the horn causing you to scream. Javi quickly got something out of the glove compartment before he pushed you to the side and down across the center column, the man wheezing when you accidentally kneed him in the dick. You were lying halfway on the passenger seat with your hands covering your head since you had no idea what the danger was while your heart pounded. 
Seconds later, a large palm pressed to your naked back, Javi’s voice a little higher than usual, “We’re safe.” He cleared his throat and spoke in a deeper tone, “Just a fucking armadillo—are you okay?” 
“Please tell me you scared the shit out of me and got hit in the dick for a giant, rabid, man-eating armadillo.” 
He huffed out a breath. “No, it’s a regular one, and from the looks of it, we scared the shit out of it—it rolled up into a ball.” 
That was something you wanted to see. You awkwardly crawled to get all the way into your seat beside him, seeing out the windshield in the light of the headlights that there was an armadillo rolled up into a ball. 
“Worth getting kneed in the groin?” you asked. 
“Nothing is worth getting kneed in the dick.” 
His answer made you snort. You needed to clean up the mess between your legs and remembered the little pack of tissues Chucho kept in the pocket of the driver’s side door. You looked over at Javi. “Can you pass me the—why the fuck are you holding a gun?!” you exclaimed, your eyes going wide. In his hand was some kind of revolver he was pointing up at the sky. 
His expression showed his confusion. “To protect us..?” 
That was obvious. You asked what you actually meant. “Where did you get the gun?”
The look on his face didn’t change. “The glove box…?” He nodded toward it. In front of you, it was still open. There wasn’t much in there, just an envelope with papers stuffed in it and a box of bullets that you assumed went with the revolver. 
Shoving your face in your hands, your voice was muffled when you spoke, “Why does your dad have a gun in his car?” 
Javi let out a long sigh and put his free hand on your back to rub soothing circles. “Baby,” he began gently, “we live in Texas—Pop lives out in the middle of fucking nowhere Texas. There are coyotes out here, mountain lions, bobcats, snakes—” You could hear him cringe with the last one; he wasn’t a fan of the reptiles. “—we have to carry around guns for our safety. You really think I take you out on Pop’s land without protection?” 
“With your aversion to condoms, I figured you like to live dangerously.” 
He huffed in amusement again. “You are the only woman I have an aversion to condoms with. In the past, I always wrapped it up because I didn’t like to take risks.” 
That had you turning your head to meet his eyes. “Why me?” 
“Why you, what?” 
“Why were you willing to take the risk with me?” 
He crookedly smiled, his hand moving to hold your cheek. “Because I trusted you. Two dates and you managed to gain my trust and steal my heart—you had me head over heels.“ Javi leaned, softly grunting as he put the gun back into the glove compartment and shut it. He kept talking, “I want you to know I’ve always been aware birth control isn’t 100% effective—“ His attention went to his door to grab the tissues that he handed to you, and you took. “—and when it crossed my mind that I could accidentally knock you up, I didn’t feel dread at the idea of raising a kid with you. It wasn’t like how I felt with—”
“She-who-must-not-be-named on our wedding day,” you interjected, not wanting to mention his ex Lorraine. 
“I won’t—you know who I’m talking about. I didn’t feel dread when I thought about having a kid with you. I mostly just worried if it happened, you’d find out about my past and wouldn’t want me in your or our child’s life.”
That was utterly heartbreaking. “I’d never keep your kid from you or kick you out of my life.”
He was softly smiling. “I know that now, but you remember how fucked up my head was before I told you about Colombia.”
That was true. He believed you would leave him when you discovered what happened during his time with the DEA.
“It fucking kills me when I remember how hard you were on yourself.” You dropped the tissues into your lap and took one of his hands into both of yours. “I’m happy you’re better now, and guess what?” 
“What?” 
You grinned. “We’re married, and I’m going to have all of your babies—all of them, every single one, and I really can’t wait to see you become a dad, ‘cause you’re gonna be amazing, and our children will be so loved.” 
His eyes were misting, and his smile matched yours. He freed his hand from yours to caress your face in his palms and kissed you. With how hard his lips pressed to yours, you could feel his love, his devotion, his happiness. This truly was the best day of his life, and it made you beyond happy to share it with him. 
Your stomach growled, and Javi pulled back to look at you. “Are you hungry?”
When he brought you the plate of food earlier, you only tried a little bit of everything, and you didn’t fill up because you were nervous about the dances. Now that all of that was done, the hunger was catching up to you. 
“Yes, can we stop by McDonald’s or something for a quick bite on our way to the hotel?” 
“No,” he replied, and you frowned. “I had Steve and Connie take a bag of leftovers that tía María put together for us back to our hotel room because I knew you wouldn’t eat enough at dinner—I figured it’d be nerves.” He shrugged. “And yes, there’s a big ass slice of cake,” reading your mind as always.
The Murphy family was staying at the same hotel and hopefully on a very different floor than your room.
His response had you smiling big. “Not even twenty-four hours married, Mr. Peña, and you’re already husband of the year.” 
He smiled and leaned in, pecking you on the lips. “Good,” he said and nudged the tip of his nose against yours. “I gotta make sure I keep my title as the hunkiest hunk to ever hunk.” 
You bursted into laughter, and he joined. 
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year ago
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The Danger Zone (Part 4) - Hangman
Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC
Word Count: 3.5k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY
Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Secret Relationship; Angst; Undefined Relationships; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description
Summary: Jake tries to talk to you, if only your family would stop getting in the way.
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One Hour Earlier
Jake closed the door to his truck and walked up to Coyote and Phoenix’s house. They bought it during the preparations for the wedding, which definitely added to their stress level at the time, but it was nice to come home to a house that was all theirs after their honeymoon. And now Jake was reporting for painting duty. He let himself in through the side door and spotted Javy in the kitchen, putting away some random things.
“Where’s Phoenix?” Jake asked, setting his keys and wallet on the countertop.
“She went to her parent’s house for the weekend to grab some stuff and help out a bit.”
“And you promised to get a whole bunch of shit done while she was gone?” Jake guessed, gesturing to the empty boxes and random tools and materials all over the place.
“And you’re going to help me with all of that shit,” Javy replied, patting Jake on the arm. “Come on, let’s start painting.”
They walked into the spare bedroom and started cleaning out all of the shit that was shoved in there. Setting up the sheets on the ground, Javy glanced over at where Jake was pouring the paint into the tray.
“So, what’s new with you?”
“Nothing much,” Jake replied, turning back to the wall. “Just the same old shit.”
Javy nodded and stood up, fixing Jake with a knowing gaze. Javy and Jake had been best friends since the Academy and Javy liked to think that he knew Jake more than well enough to know when something was up with him. Good or bad. And Javy was very much aware that Jake wasn’t himself.
“How’s everything going with your relationship?”
“It’s over,” Jake replied simply. “And it wasn’t even a relationship.”
“What happened?”
Jake shot Javy a look, but Javy shot him one right back. Jake could play the whole nonchalant bullshit with everyone else, but Javy would call him out on it when he felt it was needed. And after seeing the change in Jake’s demeanor after whatever he wanted to call your relationship ended, Javy knew that he needed to call him out.
Jake picked up a roller and started to paint the wall in straight, even lines. Javy did the same, though he was still feeling out Jake at that moment. He usually just had to give Jake a little bit of time to think over it on his own before following up.
“And you’re okay?”
“No, but nothing I can do about it now,” Jake replied, a bit tensely.
“Did she block you?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Jake mumbled, running the roller through the paint again. “She’s been reaching out to me, but I haven’t responded.”
“Because?” Javy stressed, earning a sigh from Jake in return.
“Because what’s the point? It was never going to go public. She’d never stand up to her family about it. And we just didn’t work anymore.”
“Didn’t work with what?”
“We weren’t on the same page.”
“About?”
“For fuck‘s sake, Javy.” Jake set down the paint roller and turned to Javy, who remained calm and eyed Jake with a knowing expression. “She was acting weird before the wedding and at the reception she just blew me off, so what was even the point of all of it? It was just a waste of time for both of us.”
“Or did she hurt your feelings and you wanted to push her away to protect yourself?” Javy asked, setting down his own paint roller.
“You’re not my therapist, Javy,” Jake muttered, looking away from his best friend.
“I know I’m not. But I’m not going to sit here and tell you that you made the right choice when you look as miserable as you do.” Jake sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, causing Javy to soften a bit. “Jake, you were really happy when you were with her. And maybe you two grew apart and maybe you want different things in life and maybe I should just mind my own business. But just talk to her. At least figure out why she was avoiding you in the first place.”
“It was probably something with her brother or Mav,” Jake huffed, picking his head up more. “Or, hey, maybe she found a new fuckbuddy.”
“You don’t know any of that. And she’s not the type to play shit like that and you know it, Jake.” Coyote paused for a moment before adding, “Hell, maybe it was something with work or she’s dealing with some other issue and she wanted to figure it out first before telling you about it.”
“I just don’t know what would cause such a sudden change in her. I mean one minute she was fine and the next she just shut down.”
“You know how you’re going to find out?”
“How?”
“Talk to her,” Javy emphasized.
“I liked you better before you got together with Phoenix,” Jake scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re acting all wise now.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Javy muttered, waving Jake off. “Now, be an adult and go talk to her. And, hey, maybe in a year, I’ll be your best man at your wedding.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Jake sighed, getting to his feet. “And I’m holding you to it, Javy. If it’s a shitshow, you told me to start shit.”
“Get out already.”
“I’m going, I’m going.”
Jake grabbed his keys and wallet and headed down to his truck. Sliding in, Jake thought about how to proceed before just deciding to drive over to your apartment. If the two of you were actually going to have the conversation, he wanted it to be in person. And well she was also a little worried he would lose his confidence if he gave it too long to linger.
Parking in the lot, Jake spotted your car and made his way up the stairs to your apartment. He, however, didn’t recognize Emma’s car parked in the lot too. Stopping in front of your door, Jake knocked lightly and took a step back. He knew that you had a viewport and could see that it was him. Whether or not you opened the door was your choice.
The door opened a few moments later and Jake was rather quietly surprised at how shocked you looked when you spotted him. Why hadn’t you looked through the viewport before answering the door like you always did?
“Jake,” you breathed out nervously.
“Hey,” he replied softly, unable to prevent himself from frowning a bit at your reaction.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk about . . . everything.” Jake paused, mulling over his words before asking, “Is this a bad time?”
“Um. . . yeah, kind of,” you responded, wincing. “My brother’s here. And Mav is on his way over here right now.”
Jake’s eyes widened a fraction but before the curse could slip from between his lips, Rooster walked around the corner.
“What’s taking so long, old—Hangman?” Bradley corrected himself, very openly frowning when he spotted his teammate in the hall. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh, he’s just here to pick something up,” you lied, turning to face your brother.
“Pick up what?”
“Uh, his . . . sweatshirt,” you decided, gesturing for Jake to come inside. “He let me borrow it at the beach when Coyote and Phoenix had their thing and it got cold.”
“And he just dropped by?” Bradley asked, staring after you as you hurried to your bedroom to grab it before shooting Jake a look. “Without your permission?”
“I told him that I was going to be here,” you snapped back defensively. “It’ll be two seconds. Calm your tits.”
Hurrying into your room, you started to dig around your closet for Jake’s sweatshirt that he gave you several months ago right before he went on deployment. You wore it on multiple occasions and by now Jake’s scent had long ago disappeared from the fabric. Meanwhile, out in your living room, Jake and Bradley were in the middle of a staring contest.
“So, you were just in the neighborhood?” Rooster asked suspiciously.
“I do live in this town too, Rooster,” Jake reminded him, causing Rooster to narrow his eyes a bit.
“So,” Emma cut in, trying to control the tension, “how have you been, Hangman?”
“Peachy.”
“Here you go, Jake,” you called, hurrying over and shoving the sweatshirt into his hands before urging him towards the door. “Well, thanks for giving it to me. For that day.”
When you were only two steps away from the door, there was a sharp knock. Cursing under your breath, you glanced at Jake to see that he looked like he was readily planning to climb out the window, before turning to the door. Letting out a breath, you opened the door to reveal Maverick and Penny standing there.
“Hey, Mav, Penny,” you greeted them, trying to act normally.
“Hangman?” Maverick asked, confused.
“Maverick,” Jake returned, his face impassive though he was sweating nervously.
“He was just grabbing something,” you cut in, talking just a little too fast. Maverick looked over at you, raising his eyebrow just a bit. “And he’s leaving right now. So, uh, bye Hangman.”
“Yeah, uh, see you around.”
Jake moved past you and he was about to walk past Maverick when the older aviator stopped him from his escape.
“Where are you going, Hangman?”
“Just heading home, that’s all,” Jake stated, turning to Maverick. Scrunching up the sweatshirt you gave him, he held it up. “I’ve got some laundry to do.”
“You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner,” Maverick offered, causing you to shake your head slightly. “And cake too, if you want. You saved my life, so it’s the least I can offer you.”
“I think he said he already has plans, Mav,” you tried to butt in.
“I’m sure the laundry can wait,” Maverick insisted kindly, though with an edge of force.
Jake shot you a slightly nervous look, to which you tried to discreetly shake your head. Penny seemed to be eyeing the exchange curiously, though you knew she sensed Maverick’s tone. You sent Jake a look to get out while he could. But then bigmouth Bradley came around the corner and decided to butt in.
“Yeah, I’m sure we can find something to talk about,” Bradley stated, leaning on the wall with his arms folded in front of him.
And Jake, sensing his rapidly approaching defeat, started to surrender.
“I don’t want to intrude—”
“—You're not,” Maverick interjected before gesturing inside your apartment. “Come on, I’m sure the food’s getting cold.”
You stood stone faced by the door as Bradley, Maverick, and Penny walked further into your apartment. Sharing a defeated look with Jake, who pulled up the rear, you shut the door and tried to calm yourself down before you turned on your heel and headed towards the table.
You found yourself sitting with Maverick on your right at the head of the table, Jake to your left looking uncomfortable as hell, and Bradley across from you with a sharp glare directed at Jake. You shared a look with Emma, who returned an apologetic grimace. Staring at the glass of wine in front of you, you simply ducked your head and stared at your plate.
“So, what caused the sudden change in location?” Maverick asked curiously.
“There was a minor problem at your place,” you replied, staring down at your plate.
“We set the oven on fire,” Bradley filled in, causing you to kick him under the table. Bradley shot you a look before turning to Maverick. “And then she threw up again and we just decided to get out of there.”
Again?
Jake glanced over at you from the corner of his eye, concern clear in his gaze. You didn’t look severely ill. Maybe a bit flushed, but not ill. So what caused you to throw up so often? And how did you just seem to bounce back if you were so sick and throwing up?
“How did the fire happen?” Maverick asked calmly, used to the back and forth between you and Bradley.
“I accidentally set the timer for too long,” Emma cut in, trying to take some heat off of you. “I walked off and it boiled over and burned.”
“Not a problem. That oven was ancient anyways,” Maverick dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I barely used it as it was.”
The family conversation continued on with an occasional pointed comment directed at Jake from Bradley, but it wasn’t too much. You seemed to be well-versed in how to deflect your brother’s questions and comments. It almost made Jake wonder why you were so cautious about him being anywhere near Rooster or Maverick with him.
“Anyone want a refill?” Penny offered, getting up from her seat.
There were a few mumbles around the table, but when Jake glanced over at your wine glass, he was a bit more than just surprised that it looked like you hadn’t touched it. Not that you had to drink the wine. But why didn’t you?
“So, Hangman,” Rooster cut in, causing Jake to turn away from you, “did you spend a lot of time together? Planning Coyote and Phoenix’s wedding and all, I mean?”
“Yeah, so what?” you snapped in Jake’s defense. “I spent a lot of time with Emma’s brother for your wedding, Bradley.”
“It was just a question,” Bradley scoffed in return.
“This is a great meal, Emma,” Penny announced louder than she needed to speak. “What restaurant did you get it from?”
“Ferrucci's down the road from here,” Emma answered, talking loud as well. “It’s really good. We should go there more often.”
“How was the wedding in your end, Hangman?” Maverick continued, getting the conversation back on track despite Emma and Penny’s attempt. “I feel like you were quite busy.”
“Yeah, I was,” Jake replied honestly.
“We didn’t see you at the after party,” Bradley added, earning a nudge from his wife.
“I was feeling under the weather. Just tired from everything,” Jake stated, staring down Bradley, not at all afraid of him.
He was slightly terrified of Maverick. But Bradley? Not even a little bit.
“Funny. That’s exactly what someone else said that night,” Bradley replied, turning to look at you. To which, you narrowed your eyes and shot your brother a warning look back. “What a weird coincidence.”
“Bradley,” you hissed, placing your hands on the table, “if you want to ask a question, just ask it. Stop being weird about it.”
“Should we cut the cake?” Emma interjected, trying to prevent a fight.
“I think we should,” Penny agreed, getting up from her seat. She called your name, causing you to look away from Bradley. “You made the cake, so you get to set up the candles and everything. Come on.”
With one last look over at your brother, you got up from your seat and walked into the kitchen with Penny and Emma. And that left Jake at the mercy of both Bradley and Maverick. Once the three of you were out of earshot, Bradley turned to Jake with a dark look.
“Are you messing around with my sister, Bagman? Because I swear to—”
“—I’m not,” Jake muttered, glaring over at Rooster. Anymore, at least. “Is that good enough of an answer for you?”
Rooster glared right back at Jake, practically screaming that no, it wasn’t good enough for him. Even though they had come a long way since the mission, it was near impossible to just get rid of years of resentment and tension in a moment. And anyone who knew Rooster well enough knew that messing around with his little sister was a sure fire way to be at high risk for getting a fist to the face.
“Bradley,” Maverick cut in, causing Jake and Bradley to turn to him, “drop it. Your sister is old enough to take care of herself.”
Maverick and Bradley had their own staring contest for a moment until Jake excused himself from the table, needing to cool down for a second. Walking down the hall and into the bathroom, Jake shut the door and let out a breath. Running a hand down his face, he sat on the toilet cover and stared at his hands.
“What the fuck did you get yourself into, Jake?” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re a real big fucking idiot, you know that?”
Sighing again, Jake got to his feet and turned to walk out of the bathroom when he accidentally kicked the small trash can over. Cursing under his breath, Jake kneeled down and hurried to clean up the mess. Picking up a plastic wrapper, Jake was about to toss it back into the trash when he caught some of the text on it. Frowning, Jake smoothed out the wrapper to read it.
And he nearly passed out when he read the plastic cover.
Prenatal Vitamins
Well, that sealed the deal. Especially when he thought about Rooster’s comment about how you were throwing up all the time lately. And then he remembered the full wine glass in front of you at dinner. And well, three coincidences didn’t seem that likely. And he couldn’t exactly say that the two of you were extremely careful every time with any sort of conviction.
Jake sat there and just stared at the plastic wrap, his whole world just exploding in front of him.
Meanwhile, out in the kitchen and slightly hidden behind a half wall, you were holding your hands to your face, trying to remain calm while Emma placed the candles on the cake and Penny gave you a supportive squeeze.
“Hey, it’s going to be fine,” Penny whispered to you, urging Emma to hurry up with the candles. “We’re just going to eat cake and Jake will leave and it’ll all be fine.”
“Why the fuck is he here? Of all fucking days,” you cursed, letting out a breath. “And I’m going to fucking kill my brother if he keeps asking stupid questions.”
“Just hold onto those thoughts for now. Focus on getting through this dinner, okay?” Penny coached you, giving you another squeeze. “You’ll be fine. You will get through this. But it is a good reminder about some conversations that you need to have, okay?”
“I know, it’s just,” you sighed, feeling a wave of nausea hit you, “they’re all going to freak out. I know it.”
“You can’t control them. Only you. And you are holding way too much on your shoulders right now. You need to tell them. Or at least one of them,” Penny whispered, causing you to nod in return.
“I know. I’m already starting to show,” you mumbled, resting a hand on your abdomen. Letting out another breath, you turned back to Penny, “Let’s just get this party over with.”
You, Emma, and Penny walked out of the kitchen with the cake and candles all set up. Singing the birthday tune for Maverick, you sat back down in your seat. You were a bit surprised that Jake wasn’t there but he seemed to slowly make his way out of the bathroom and back to the table as the song wrapped up. You laughed and clapped with everyone else as Maverick blew out the candles, though you felt Jake’s gaze burn into your back.
“Thank you, thank you,” Maverick chuckled, waving the smoke away. “We’ll, what are we waiting for? Let’s eat cake.”
“I should go,” Jake suddenly spoke, causing everyone to turn to him. He seemed to stumble over his words for a moment before adding, “Coyote texted me. I guess there’s some problem at the house.”
“Well, we don’t want to keep you if you need to go,” Penny stated, knowing that it was best to reduce the tension in the air.
Jake bid his awkward goodbyes, almost acting like he was a puppet being controlled by some higher power before he left. He didn’t or couldn’t look you in the eye about it. Feeling a bit taken aback by his sudden change, you whipped around to shoot Bradley a death glare.
“What the hell did you say to him?” you demanded, causing Bradley to scoff.
“Nothing. Why do you even care anyways?”
“It’s my apartment. If you want to pick fights with people, do it at your place, not mine,” you deflected, causing Bradley to roll his eyes.
“Don’t mess around with him. I’m serious,” your brother warned you.
“And we’re cutting the cake!” Emma interjected, walking over with small plates.
The conversation was effectively over for now, but you still couldn’t help but let your mind wander. What the hell did Bradley say to Jake to freak him out like that?
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callsigndragon · 2 years ago
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Seeing Red | Ch. 48 : We're soldiers ✍️
Warning: mentions of stalker, ICEMAN (should be a warning), poor baby Liam is scared, someone leaves the dagger squad :), and... there's a surprise at the end ❤️
A/N: I can hear you all screaming at me when you finish reading this. :DDDDDDDDDDDDD
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Jake walks to the elevator, looking for Mav’s number in his phone. He had managed to find three seats on a plane that leaves early in the morning. He and his family won’t have to stay in Hawaii much longer. 
Pressing the button and watching the doors close, Jake sighs, clenching his fist and hitting the closed door with it. How has he been so reckless? Why did he think that three years away from you could fix everything? As if his father would magically have forgotten about him, and allowed Jake to be happy for once in his lifetime. Yeah, that would never happen. 
Jake wasn’t allowed to be happy. 
“Jake? I read the group chat. Look, I’m trying to call Ice so he can help me fix this but-” 
“He found us.” Jake mutters, cutting off Mav’s words. 
“Gregory?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Fuck, Jake. You need to come back immediately.” Jake can hear Mav walking around the house, he can recognize Theo and Milo’s barks in the background. 
“I got plane tickets already. Mav, that contact you had in the NCIS… he needs to work faster.” 
Mav sighs, sitting down. “I haven't heard from him in a while, I’m actually worried. I’ll go to his house this afternoon.” 
“Thanks, pop.” Jake walks out of the elevator once the doors open, having arrived at his destination. “This isn’t like the last time, Mav. We were only two back then. But my son is in danger now. I’ll kill that son of a bitch if he tries to touch Liam.” 
“Go with Red. She needs you, and you need her, too. I’ll go to the airport to get you two tomorrow.” 
“See you tomorrow.” 
Jake walks down the corridor, checking behind him every two steps to see if anyone is following him. It wouldn’t surprise him that one of his father’s men had a room on the same floor. Once he gets to the door, he calls you, and you pick up right away. 
“Are you outside?” 
“Yeah, sweets. It’s me.” 
You unlock the door with a scared expression on your face. Liam is behind you, gripping your hand with such force that his tiny knuckles are white. Liam is smart, he must have sensed your fear, and he’s now scared, too. 
Jake has to take a deep breath to stop himself from kicking every door in this damned hotel until he finds the man who has been taking pictures of his family. 
“You got tickets?” You ask him, closing the door once he’s inside. 
“Yeah, we’re leaving early in the morning. Mav will be waiting for us at the airport, probably he’ll bring Rooster and Javy with him, just in case.” 
You kneel down, kissing Liam’s forehead. "Hey, pretty boy, why don’t you go play with that turtle plushie Dada bought you yesterday?” 
“I want to stay with Mama and Dada.” He pouts, grabbing the fabric of your skirt. 
“Mama and Dada aren’t going anywhere, okay? Now go play for a bit.” You insist, caressing his cheeks. Liam nods softly, sitting down in front of the TV and hugging his new plushie. 
“I hate seeing him like that, fuck.” Jake mutters, walking to the main bedroom. You follow behind him, eyes locked on his neck, fearing that the moment you stop looking at him, he might disappear, just like he did three years ago. 
He must have noticed the fear in your eyes, because when he turns, he holds your face between his hands while leaning closer, his forehead pressing against yours. “I’m not going anywhere this time, Red.” 
“Promise?” You whisper, your hands flying to his wrists. You can feel his pulse under your fingertips, accelerated and erratic. 
“I promise you.” 
Your phone rings, startling both of you. You look at it—an unknown number appears on the screen. “I don’t recognize this number.” 
Jake swallows, closing the door so Liam doesn’t hear anything. “Pick it up.” 
You take the call, putting it on speaker, so Jake can hear it too. “Hello?” 
“Lieutenant Commander Seresin?” You hear a hoarse voice at the other end of the line, not recognizing it either. 
“Yeah, it’s me. Who’s this?” 
“Iceman?” Jake asks, relaxing completely next to you. 
“Yeah. I heard that Cyclone found out about you two.” 
You look at the floor, feeling ashamed that you’re receiving a call from the Admiral itself. “Admiral Kazansky, I know that I’m the one to blame here. We knew that it was risky…”
“Please, call me Ice. And don’t worry about it. Love is love, kid. We can’t stop that. I’m calling you to offer a solution.”
Jake’s face lits up. He needs you two to stay at the base now more than ever. It’s the only place he knows you two will be safe. 
“Please, we’re desperate.” You mutter, grabbing Jake’s hand. 
“Red, would you like to be a full-time instructor at Top Gun? You won’t be taking unnecessary risks, and you won’t be related to the Dagger Squad in any way, but that’ll make possible that yours and Jake’s relationship can be considered legal.” 
“Yes! Absolutely. It’s a perfect position for me.” You reply immediately, Jake’s lips finding your temple. 
“It’s a pity that such an amazing leader has to be kicked out of the team, but we’ll think of something so you can come back. For now, this is the best option I could find.” 
“Thank you so much, Ice. Maverick called you, right?” 
“He practically begged me to keep you two at the same station. Anyway, is there anything else I can help you with?” 
You look at Jake, not knowing what to do. He swallows and takes a breath before speaking. “If the NCIS is investigating my case, I’m sure you know by now who I am.” 
“Yeah, I know. I honestly don’t care about your surname, Jake. I just care about the pilot, and you’re probably the best pilot of your generation.” 
“Thank you, sir.” Jake clenches his jaw, preparing himself for his next words. “My family is in danger, Ice. I can’t let them leave the station under any circumstances.” 
“You’re safe at base. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you soon.” 
Ice hangs up, and you look at Jake with half a smile on your face. “Well, at least we solved that part of the problem.” 
Jake snorts, tilting his head to look at you. “Always look at the bright side, Mrs. Seresin.” 
“Someone has to. You’re the negative one here. I have to be positive.” 
Jake sits on the bed, taking off his shoes. “I cant see anything positive about you being followed by my father’s men for three years.” 
You sit next to him, your hand looking for his. “The worst part is that you had to leave me, and for what? It amounted to nothing.” 
“Don’t remind me that. I could have stayed with you during the whole pregnancy, dammit.” 
You kiss his shoulder before placing your chin on it. “Let’s not worry about that. We’re gonna go back to the base, and we’ll be safe. Nobody can hurt us there.” 
“I’m not even sure he’s trying to hurt me. He just wants to scare me. Torture me psychologically until I give up and go back to him.” 
“Well, that’s not going to happen. Because you have me, and you have your family. We’re fighting with you. We're soldiers, Jake. We fight.”
Jake’s face softens, his lips pressing together in a thin line. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” 
“You won’t have to find out.” You say before kissing him softly. 
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It’s been a month since Gregory decided to make his presence known, but nothing has happened since then. Not a call or a message. Not a single indication that he’s still around. It’s like he’s gone. 
But you and Jake can’t stop worrying that somehow Gregory’s next move will be worse than anything he has ever done before. 
Turns out that Mav’s friend, the one who had been trying to prove all the crimes that Jake’s father has committed, has disappeared. Maybe he got too close to the truth, and somehow the St. James patriarch got rid of him. You just hope he's okay, but a little voice inside your head tells you that the man is probably dead.
After the team found out that you had been followed for the past three years, they made a schedule so they could take care of Liam. Penny, Doc, Sarge, Ames, and Mav take turns so that Liam doesn’t have to go to daycare. It’s not a safe place if Cyclone can walk in and take your kid without authorization, just like he did in the past. 
Speaking of the devil. You told Ice how Cyclone had admitted to being in possession of a picture that was sent to him in an anonymous email, and instead of reporting it to the authorities, he decided to use that picture to expose yours and Jake’s relationship. He’s being investigated, but you don’t think he has anything to do with this. He called you back to the academy out of sheer chance, and somehow he let himself be carried away by his own feelings, whatever they were. Once he saw the picture, he found the perfect excuse to get rid of Jake once and for all. 
He had been trying to do that for the past three years, and you gave it to him on a silver plate.
Other than that, the month has been pretty calm. Ash was deployed, and she had to go back to her base, so it was impossible for you to talk to her. Rooster was pretty down after you told him that the wizzo had some important matters that took up all of her free time and she couldn't start anything with him. Javy and Nat’s relationship is still pretty new, but the way he looks at her tells you that these two will last. Maybe you should start looking for a dress for her wedding, because you know that these two will get married sooner or later. 
Doc is in her fifth month of pregnancy, and Bob has been trying to convince her to ask for maternity leave, but she’s determined to work until she can’t walk anymore. Poor Bob calls twice a day to check on her. 
Your mom has been trying to come see you now that her favorite person on the planet, and when she says that, she means Jake, is now ‘married’ to her daughter again. But things are already too dangerous for the three of you, and you don’t want to add more people to this game Jake and his father are playing. 
You’re now sitting at the Hard Deck after a long day at work, with Jake sitting next to you, his arm around your shoulders as he sips his beer. Rooster is looking out the window, his melancholic aura accompanying him wherever he goes. He can’t stop thinking about Ash, and he still thinks that he knows her from somewhere. You hope that Ash’s life becomes easier soon, because both of them deserve to be happy, even if you don’t know if Ash thinks about Rooster in the same way he does about her. 
“Do you guys have plans for the weekend?” Mickey asks, offering you a beer. 
“Stay home. I still haven’t recovered from the Fourth of July.” You reply, making Jake chuckle. 
“That was three weeks ago.” 
“We ate so much I couldn’t eat properly for the next week.” You complain, remembering the amount of meat that Mav and Mickey cooked on the barbeque. 
“It wasn’t even that much! You should see my abuelita’s kitchen on Cinco de Mayo.” Mickey looks for a picture on his phone when you see Nat and Ames at the back of the bar, moving their arms to catch your attention. 
“I’m going to the bathroom.” You whisper in Jake’s ear, his hand squeezing your thigh before you get up. 
You follow the two girls into the bathroom and close the door behind you. “You got it?” 
Nat takes the two pregnancy tests from the box and hands them to you. “You know what to do, mama.” 
You nod, taking them and getting in one of the stalls, taking a deep breath. 
“When I said I wanted a new nephew, I didn’t mean that you had to get pregnant the first night you had sex with my brother.” Ames says, unlocking her phone to prepare the timer. 
“We don’t know if she’s pregnant, Ames. That’s why she’s taking the tests.” Nat comments, reading the instructions. “You weren't drinking that beer I saw in front of you, right?” 
You flush the toilet and get out, leaving the two tests on the counter and washing your hands. “Of course I wasn’t”
The three of you stare at the tests, silence surrounding you. “What are you gonna do if it’s positive?” Ames questions, hugging your arm. 
“Take maternity leave.” 
“Are you gonna tell Jake?” 
“I’ll go to the ob-gyn first, make sure everything is okay. It might be Jake’s first pregnancy.” You lean against the wall, closing your eyes. “How am I supposed to bring another baby into this world when their big brother has to be constantly guarded in case someone tries to take him away from his parents?” 
Nat hugs you tightly, caressing your hair. “You’re not alone. You have this big, crazy family that will help you every step of the way.” 
You wipe your tears away, chuckling at the idea of being pregnant again. “He’s getting a vasectomy after the third baby.” 
“Third?” Ames' eyes widened in excitement. 
“Yeah, we want three kids. We talked about this a few weeks ago, but I literally didn’t think that we had one bun in the oven already.” 
“His aiming skills aren’t legendary only on the air.”
You and Nat both look at Ames, the young girl biting her lower lip so she doesn't laugh. “You’re lucky I love you.”
Amelia’s phone starts beeping, signaling that the three minutes are over. 
“It’s time to look, Red.” 
You take a deep breath and walk slowly to the counter, looking at the two tests. 
Two lines. 
Positive. 
You’re pregnant.
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unironicironic · 4 months ago
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I saw Twisters yesterday and..
Boy oh boy is it yapping time, I have mostly high praises to sing, but there were a couple things I wasn't too thrilled with.
If you haven't seen it yet and/or want to avoid spoilers, feel free to scroll on down because believe me when I say that going in as blind as possible is the way to go with this film.
All good? Alright, perfect. To keep things relatively short and sweet, this will be a bit of a quick fire type thing. So first up, the good.
The references, man oh man the references. There were plenty of lil nods to the og but some that really stood out:
Right off the bat, in the original when it was showing the WB logo and had the dark clouds, along with that melody or motif or what have you during the opening? Yeah it did exactly that, jingle and all
The Dorothy, as Kate and her crew are testing it to make sure it works in the beginning scene, it's implied that it's been used before
Speaking of the Dorothy, the device itself and the sensors look EXACTLY like the ones in the first movie
Kate says she's "not back" when Javi welcomes her back to chasing, like the original crew does Bill In the later part of the movie
Kate rocks a white tank and tan pants like Jo in the scene where they're at the rodeo and a tornado catches them off guard; as a double, this references the scene in the og where the main crew are at a drive in theater and a tornado surprises them
On a similar note, at some point Kate wears a shirt that looks a good bit like that blonde kid's shirt at the end of Twister when he and his family come out of their shelter when the EF5 lifts
The effects, namely for the tornadoes themselves, absolutely phenomenal. No movie will get it perfect, but I've gotta say that Twisters came pretty damn close to absolutely nailing it right down to a T. There were a couple times you could tell it was CGI but whew for the most part it was seamless
The accuracy, you can absolutely tell that the production crew really cared about keeping things as accurate as possible, in terms of storms, supercells, etc and how they work. I'm willing to bet they had meteorologists on standby to tell them how things work, how things would play out, etc etc. Also the ground scouring when it shows the damage done after larger tornadoes??? HELLO???
The soundtrack, I'm not usually one for country music but holy FUCK there were some absolute bangers, I often found myself tapping my feet to the songs or trying not to hum along (especially when Owens' crew shows up with "Ain't no Love in Oklahoma" going in the background, WHOOO that's a good one). Not to mention, the songs added onto the scenes they were in, often making them a bit more emotionally impactful
The actors and respectively the characters, the actors played their roles phenomenally and really sent the ball out of the park. I never really pay attention to the actors but I should've known they'd deliver when I saw everyone agree online that they'd pack a punch. And the characters, man they really added hella depth to each character, making them all feel incredibly fleshed out and relatable in a way
The intensity, hooo man did things get intense when shit hit the fan and tornadoes were bearing down. There were a good few times I sat there with my eyes glued to the screen, unblinking and watching what was going on. I was practically clutching my pearls tbh
And now, of course, the not so good. Oddly enough though, I don't have much negative to say about Twisters aside from the whole "destroying tornadoes" thing and how it seems a bit like a romance film blended into a natural disaster move. Obviously, there's no way for people to disrupt or completely stop a tornado like they eventually did in the movie. There's no way for someone to send stuff up into a funnel and get it to disappear like Kate did, ESPECIALLY if it's an EF5. Now as for the romance thing, it's Hollywood. Of course they're gonna try to throw some sort of romantic hullabaloo in there, I should've saw it coming but man it gets old sometimes.
My final verdict? A solid movie, regardless of whether or not you've seen the original. I can already tell it's going to hit the top of some charts for movies, and for very good reason. And if you're gonna watch Twisters, 100% see it at a theater. It's so much better that way, pricier but much better because it's kinda unifying in a way. There were a good few times that everyone in the room was laughing, and it was just overall a good time.
So I rate it a Tyler Owens in the rain out of ten.
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specialagentlokitty · 1 year ago
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Castle x reader - what brings us closer
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Tapping your pen against your desk, you furrowed your brows as you tried to block the background noise of the precinct.
You had been trying for a while to clear your head, to focus, but nothing was working, you just couldn’t focus.
And the voices from a few desks over were distracting you.
Sighing, you leant back in your chair and headbutted the man behind you.
“Seriously dude?”
Shrugged a little bit.
“Maybe if you got your fatass head out the way Esposito.”
“In case you haven’t noticed there ain’t much room here, get outta here.”
He pushed your head back up and you turned around, picking up your cup from your desk, shoving his head so you could get past.
“Seriously?! You’re childish (Y/N)!”
“I know!” You called back.
You smirked as you walked over to the break room, and began making yourself another coffee, and you picked up the cup that was just set next to you.
“So, what’s going on? You only bully me when you’re pissed or upset, so, which is it?” Esposito asked.
“I don’t even know at this point Es, I honestly don’t know.” You sighed.
He furrowed his brows, leaning against the counter.
“Care to go into more detail?”
“Hey guys.” Castle beamed.
You glanced at him before turning back to the other officer in the room.
“I’ll be there.”
You smiled, nodding as you left, heading back to your desk.
When you had finished your shift, you made your way back to your apartment, leaving the door unlocked as you walked to the couch and threw yourself down.
It wasn’t long before the door was opened and closed again.
“Yo.”
Esposito sat down, and Ryan placed a couple of pizza boxes on the table.
“I don’t remember inviting you lover boy.”
“Come on, you’re having a crappy time, I can’t not come can I?”
You chuckled a little, smiling at them as you offered both of them a drink from the box on the table and they both took one.
“So, what’s going on?” Ryan asked.
“Is it work? Family? A case?”
You shook your head.
“Nothing like that, it’s.. different..”
“Ah..” Ryan whispered.
“Guy troubles?” Esposito asked.
“Wow you are a good detective.”
He threw a cushion at you, and you threw it back with a little laugh.
Your smile soon faded, and you sighed heavily, leaning back into the couch.
“How do you ignore the fact that you’re in love with someone, and that person will never be in love with you?” You asked.
“Well, first of all the guy has to be a dick if he doesn’t know.”
“Thanks Esposito, helpful. Ryan?”
He turned to you, giving you a small smile.
“Well, it depends. Sometimes people can’t tell straight away, not without being told. Does he even know how you feel about him?”
“You’ve seen him, you know exactly who he feels that way about, and it sure as hell ain’t me.”
“You can’t let that get to you, come on, Castle is nothing but a playboy anyway, and Beckett certainly isn’t interested in him we know that for a fact.”
“Exactly bro, you deserve better. A lot better than someone like castle, you’ve seen his track record.” Esposito said.
You glared a little.
“You think I don’t know that? I hate the fact that I’m in love with him Javi, I hate the fact that I know he will never, ever, look at me like that, he hardly spares me a second glance now as it is. I hate that I love him.”
They both smiled at you.
“Maybe if you spoke to him, you could see if he feels the same. He could love you one day if you talk to him you know.” Ryan spoke gently.
“The sap has a point (Y/N), just think about it.”
“Come on, it’s clear he’s head over heels for Beckett, and who wouldn’t be. I can’t compete with that.”
“Come on, you can! Don’t be so hard on yourself!”
You looked at them both and you huffed a bit.
“Right if I wanted relationship advice some either of you two goons I would’ve come earlier.”
“Next time we won’t help then asshole.”
You laughed, getting up you tossed yourself between them and picked up a pizza box.
You guys sometime just talking about whatever came to him.
Ryan fell asleep on your other couch, and Esposito was asleep on the floor while you were laid on the couch watching tv.
“Thanks guys…” you mumbled.
You didn’t think much about what they said, and you went to sleep.
Despite them trying to convince you to bring it over every so often when they saw a chance, you carried on ignoring them.
You didn’t see the point in bringing it up.
You knew that nothing would change, and if anything you felt like you would be putting yourself in an awkward situation you would never get out of.
So your plan was to carry on ignoring it.
Until now it became all you could think about, knowing full well that right under your foot was a trigger for some sort of explosive device.
One wrong move and it would be over for you.
You took a small shaky breath as you looked at your best friend who was calling out for help.
“Esposito…”
“You’ll be okay…” he whispered.
Everybody came rushing in and you smiled a little at the, taking a shaky breath.
“Oh (Y/N)…” Beckett whispered.
“I’m so sorry…”
“Hey, don’t be sorry. We’re going to get you out of this.” Ryan said.
You gave a small nod, but truth be told you didn’t believe a word of it.
While they spoke about what to do, you felt Castle staring at you, and you turned to him.
“You all need to leave now, we need to make sure the area was secure.”
“No!” Castle blurted.
Everybody turned to him.
“Castle go, I’ll ask them to let you back in if and when it’s safe..”
He was all but dragged away by everybody.
The bomb squad didn’t everything they needed to do, creating a safety zone where people could walk and move around you without triggering anything.
Once that was done the detective in charge turned to you.
“Do you want them back in?”
“No.. I uh.. no..”
He nodded his head and you took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you tried to calm yourself down.
You didn’t know what to do, or how to feel.
Nobody ever knew what to do in situations like this.
The room fell quiet, and you ignored the ringing off your phone, but when steps sounded in the room you opened your eyes.
“Castle?” You asked.
“I snuck past the guys next door.” He grinned.
“Castle you need to go, it isn’t safe.”
“It is as long as I stay outside that red circle right?”
“That’s not the point, go.” You warned lowly.
He shook his head, crossing his arms.
“I’m not leaving you here on your own.”
You sighed, tilting your head back to look at the ceiling.
Clearly you weren’t going to talk him out of it, and you weren’t in any position to be able to force him to leave the room.
So, you just nodded your head.
He spoke to you, made a few jokes, but you didn’t often reply to him.
“(Y/N)?”
You raised your gaze to meet his.
“You’re going to be okay, Beckett, Ryan, Esposito, everybody next door, they’re all working to figure this out.”
“I know…”
He sighed a little bit.
“I know you’re scared, but you’re going to be okay, I promise.”
“Don’t speak promises you can’t keep..”
He looked at you and you laughed bitterly.
“I.. I never thought I’d die like this…”
“You aren’t going to die.”
You began to tear up a little.
“Hey, hey come on. Don’t cry, don’t cry. It’s okay.”
“I have so many things I regret… things I regret not doing…”
“And you can still do them.”
You took a deep breath.
“Castle I know this thing is in a timer, and I know they’re probably not going to be able to disarm it..”
“(Y/N)…”
“Please, just listen okay?”
You looked at him, noticing his eyes were a little glossy, but he nodded his head.
“When I was kid I.. I would always change what I wanted to grow up to be… but seeing my dad saving people.. I knew I wanted to grow up like him…”
You looked at his phone, briefly getting a glance at the timer.
“But.. he was a lonely man.. and I didn’t want to be alone.. I wanted to find someone I loved.. and be with them forever… it’s cheesy I know but it’s true.. and I found that person I loved…”
The door opened and you both turned to it, watching as the bomb squad walked in.
“We need to clear the building now.”
“You can’t!” Castle yelled.
“Castle, look at me.”
He did.
You smiled weakly, tears falling from your eyes.
“I think love you castle.. I’m sorry I never told you.. the guys told me you could love me one day.. but I was scared.. but you need to go..”
“(Y/N) I…”
“Go!”
You didn’t want to hear what he had to say, so you cut him off.
If this were to be your final moments you didn’t want to know that he didn’t love you, that he never felt the same way.
Because right now you could live with the fact that you had told him, you could die knowing you weren’t hiding anything from him anymore.
“You guys need to go too..”
“Detective we’re working on it, we’re going to clear the field.”
“You said it yourself, one wrong move we all go down. I can’t die knowing I’ll be taking you all with me, so please, go. Call me when it’s clear.”
“We aren’t leaving you behind!”
“You don’t have a choice! Leave this building now! Our suspect needs to think he got away with this, he needs to see this building go down..”
You let out a shaky breath, looking up at them.
“Please don’t make me be the reason you died as well..”
There was a vibration to the building, and as most of the men left, the head of the operation stayed with you.
“You wanna make a run for it, we run together.” He said.
You nodded your head.
“We’ve figure out the decide will have a few seconds delay between the pressure point and the trigger.”
“What does that mean?”
He smiled at you, giving you his hand.
“You better run like hell.”
So you both waited for that all clear, and when you got it, you took a deep breath.
He began to count down, and when he reached one, you both sprinted from the room as fast as you could.
You made it decently far before the explosion happened, nearly out of the front of the building only to be thrown outside with force.
Coughing, you groaned in pain, slowly sitting up.
Your ears were ringing, and everything sounded so far away, your vision was distorted, and your body ached.
But it was a reminder you were alive.
So, you slowly pushed yourself up, stumbling a few steps and fell back to your knees.
You could finally hear the screaming of your name, and you saw a few familiar faces rush in front of you.
But you couldn’t really focus on them.
Everything else after that was a blur, ambulance, hospital, waking up.
Then finally you woke up focused, alert, and you bolted up right, taking a deep breath.
“What the hell were you thinking?! Why didn’t you wait?!” Castle yelled.
You frowned, holding your hand up to him.
“Loud..” you mumbled.
He immediately walked over, sitting in the side of the hospital bed as he eased you back into laying down.
“Does it hurt…?”
You weakly nodded.
“How bad..?”
“A few bruised ribs, some cuts and bruises, a couple of minor burns but nothing serious.”
Again nodded.
“What were you thinking (Y/N)? Why didn’t you wait? It wasn’t safe you know that…”
You said nothing and he sighed.
Castle placed his hand over yours, and that’s what got your attention.
“We thought the worst when we couldn’t find out, when.. when we saw that building go up..”
He looked at you, tears running down his face.
“I thought I lost you.. before I could tell you something…”
“What…?”
He smiled.
“Of course you love me, everybody does.”
You laughed, which soon turned into grumbles of pain and he panicked, holding your hand, his other hand on your face.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t laugh.”
“Asshole…”
He chuckled a little, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.
“When you get out of here we’re going to dinner, nowhere fancy yet, somewhere quiet for you until you’re better.”
You rose a brow.
“I think I love you too..” he whispered.
Castle leant down, carefully kissing you before he pulled away, laying next to you on the hospital bed.
“But for now we’ll stay here like this until everybody gets back..”
You nodded, liking the idea of that.
Castle wasn’t sure if you were going to remember any of what had just happened, or if you were still too dazed and confused.
But he hoped you would, because seeing you like that, on the brink of death made him realise he couldn’t waste any more time
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green-socks · 2 years ago
Text
In the Most Unexpected Places
Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Javy 'Coyote' Machado (aka floychado)
Summary: The unexpected place is Texas. After the mission, Coyote and Bob hadn't thought they'd be seeing each other until after the month long leave they'd been granted. However, finding themselves in the same place (again), they start spending more time together. Just as friends, right?
Words: 3.7k
Warnings: none really.
Notes: I read a couple of hangster fics with Bob/Coyote as a background pairing (most notably Barnes_Brain's Sliding into Home series on ao3) and promptly lost my mind. Needed to make it happen more. Thank you to @wyn-n-tonic for letting me bounce inital ideas and answering my questions that I kept badgering you with from the couch. And thank you to my dear cheerleader @a-reader-and-a-writer for betaing, offering support, and coming up with the title! Couldn't have done it without you bby<3
MASTERLIST
(I know it's Bob's story too but Coyote gets the gif this time, sorry Bobby bby)
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"Bob? Is that you??"
Bob whipped around hearing his callsign, not having expected anyone to recognize him in a grocery store in Deer Park, Texas.
"Coyote? Hey, man, wh-what're you doing here?" Bob asked, smiling as the other man pulled him into a quick hug. The greeting was warmer than Bob would have expected, but he was very pleased with it nonetheless. It was good to see Coyote, and perhaps the other man felt the same. It had been less than a week since they had last seen each other on base, but somehow it felt longer, the change of scenery making Bob lose track of time a little bit.
"I should be asking you that! I live here. But I thought you were from somewhere.. not Texas?" Coyote said, scrunching up his face trying to recall if Bob had ever mentioned where he was from.
Bob had not, and now he realized that neither had Coyote, actually. They'd had more important things to focus on in the last three weeks, he supposed.
"Yeah, I'm, uhm, I grew up in Wyoming, but my mom is from here actually. We're here visiting my grandparents for my leave," he explained. "I'm just realizing I never even asked where you were from. I just assumed somewhere in Texas maybe, but at least I know now," Bob chuckled, giving an awkward half-grin that he hoped conveyed that he was sorry for not making more of an effort to get to know the pilot.
"I'm sorry I never asked you either. Guess we never really got there, huh?" Coyote shrugged.
"Robby? Where did you disappear?"
Bob heard his mom calling after him just before she appeared at the end of the aisle behind Coyote's back.
"Robby?" Coyote mouthed at him, and Bob felt himself flush a little.
"Believe it or not, I'm not actually Bob to these people," he smirked to Coyote, before turning to his mom.
"Sorry, Mom, I ran into a friend. This is Javy Machado. Coyote, this is my mom, Michelle," Bob made the introductions.
"Nice to meet you, ma'am. I had no idea Bob had family here, I was surprised to see him just now."
"Oh yes, I grew up here in Deer Park," she smiled warmly at the two. "Machado? I think there was a Machado on my brother's football team in high school," Michelle mused, mostly to herself.
"Could've been my dad, or one of my uncles. They all played." 
"What a fun coincidence that Robby knows someone from here too! Are you in the Navy as well?"
"Yes, ma'am, a pilot. We met just recently."
Bob tried to keep his mom from worrying too much, so he appreciated that Coyote didn't mention their most recent mission in more detail. Bob would talk about his work with his family as best he could, but he knew his mom worried a lot, and he felt better keeping the rougher details of his job from her. Mentioning the mission now would just dig it up again.
"Well, it was nice meeting you, dear," Michelle said to Coyote. "Maybe we'll run into each other again while we're here! Robby, we should run now, your Pop will be waiting."
"Yeah, of course. Uhm, I'll—" Bob turned to Coyote, not really knowing what to say.
"We'll see each other in like twenty minutes in the group chat anyway, right?" Coyote grinned. "Go, man, don't leave your Pop waitin'."
"Right. See ya around!"
"See ya, Robby," Coyote winked.
Bob shook his head, laughing, and turned to hurry after his mom.
-
Coyote was right. They did see each other (figuratively speaking) later that afternoon in the 🗡️SKWAD group chat Fanboy had set up to keep in touch during leave, and they told everyone how they happened to be vacationing in the same place. Most of them were kind of jealous that the two of them could hang out even during leave, what with the codependency already forming within the group, which made Bob realize that maybe he should do something to utilize that possibility.
He'd just never spent time alone together with Coyote, and while there was nothing wrong with the other man, Bob wasn't even sure Coyote (or Hangman, since they were often a package deal) liked him enough to hang out alone with him. Bob knew that the first impressions on all sides had long since faded, but he still didn't know if there was any basis for a deeper connection between him and the pilot, so he didn't make any moves on it.
However, after a couple of days passed, Bob found himself needing the company of someone who knew about the mission to be able to decompress from.. everything. He thought about calling Phoenix again, but then he remembered that he could also hit up Coyote and ask if he wanted to hang out for a bit. Sure, they hadn't really had a longer conversation together outside of the time they were at the hospital with Phoenix after the bird strike incident, but Bob remembered finding Coyote's presence comforting then. He had shut his eyes and just listened to the two pilots talking, and that had helped him ground himself.
Gathering his courage, Bob shot Coyote a message.
Bob: Hey. Would you want to hang out for a bit? Feeling like getting away from the family for a couple of hours.
Coyote: hey man, sure thing. i can come pick you up if you send me the address
And that's how Bob ended up in the passenger seat of the pilot's truck, not really knowing where they were going, but feeling calmer already.
-
Javy looked over at Bob who had his eyes closed. After settling into the car, Bob had asked him if he could turn the radio just a little quieter, and then shut his eyes. Not to sleep, Javy knew, but to recenter himself, it seemed.
"Did you have anything specific in mind?" Javy asked, turning left to drive through quieter roads.
"Nah. Just... If you don't mind, just driving around for a while sounds perfect. I can pay for the gas," Bob responded, eyes still closed, but head turned in Javy's direction.
"You're good, Bob, don't worry about that." Javy glanced at the quiet man next to him again. "Everything okay with your family?"
"Oh, yeah, it's not that. Everything's good with them." Bob opened his eyes finally, and continued speaking, "It's just that the mission is still so fresh, and it's not like I can really talk to them about it all. And you know I like to have my quiet time. With a house full of noisy relatives that's not so easy. I could take a walk or something – that's what I usually do when I need a moment – but…"
"But you needed to see someone who gets it?" Javy guessed. "Yeah, I feel that."
Bob just hummed in agreement.
"If you want to talk about it, you can. I know it was even more intense for you."
"Thanks, Coyote. I appreciate you doing this. Honestly, this is helping a lot already," Bob said, and Javy looked at his face for a sign that the other man was brushing off the issue just to be polite or something. But he only found the honest earnestness that he was used to from the WSO, so Javy let it drop.
Instead, Javy just kept a running commentary of all the places they were driving past, telling Bob random stories about his teenage years, driving the routes he'd been driving back then. His passenger seemed content to just sit there and listen, his face finally relaxing fully.
Javy found himself glancing at Bob often while he drove. The man was a mystery to him. At first glance, Javy thought he'd had the quiet, unassuming man all figured out, but now he knew that not to be true. In fact, it seemed like every day the WSO surprised him in some way. For example, Javy never would have guessed the way Bob dressed in civvies – snug, faded jeans, and equally well-loved band shirts or comfy hoodies seemed to be his go-to outfit. He even wore a hat. Javy hadn't thought of Bob as a hat person for some reason.
It was when Bob started yawning that Javy realized it was getting kind of late, so he made his way back to Bob's grandparents' house to drop him off. They didn't talk much on the way back, but that was okay. It didn't feel like they needed to fill the silence with anything. Coyote was used to more high-energy hangouts with his other friends but found that he didn't mind this either. It was probably good for him too.
When they rolled to a stop at the house, Bob turned to him once more as he was getting out of the truck. "Seriously, thank you for doing this. I know I wasn't much of a company, but this was good for me. Your voice calms me down." Bob added that last bit quietly, as if to himself, and Javy was stunned into silence, watching the WSO walk back inside.
Javy ignored the warm feeling building in his chest and headed back home.
-
The next morning, Bob was surprised to get a text from Coyote, asking him to hang out again. Not that Bob thought Coyote suddenly hated him after last night or anything, but he also didn't feel like he had been the most entertaining companion by a mile.
Coyote: hey again. there's this art museum i've been wanting to check out but my family isn't really into that sort of thing. would you wanna come with me? it's a bit of a drive but if you don't mind. you seem like a guy who would like museums???
Bob: I do like museums. Yeah, I'd be happy to go with you! When do you wanna go?
Coyote: can you be ready to go in an hour? i can pick you up again
Bob: Sounds good👍🏻
-
Once again, Bob hadn't quite known what to expect, but they ended up having a great time at the art museum. They both agreed that it could be difficult sometimes to find a person to go to museums with since some people will go through them too fast and others too slow, the vibes not matching, or just not sharing the same interests. But Bob and Coyote were perfectly matched in their museum behaviors, keeping just the right pace (according to them) and sharing interests in a way where they were often pulled to the same pieces but could also find some individual interests. And they had fun looking through the gift shops too.
"Like Hangman? Love the guy to death, but he does not have the patience for this, if you can believe that," Coyote joked when they were exiting the museum.
Bob laughed. "Yes, I somehow can believe that."
Coyote got quiet for a moment.
"Speaking of him, or us, I don't think I ever apologized to you about how our first meeting went. We were kind of dicks to you that first night," Coyote grimaced.
Bob stopped short and blinked, surprised. "I honestly didn't feel any need for an apology there, but I appreciate it anyway. Besides, I'm kind of used to people dismissing me at first glance, it's just how it is," he shrugged.
Coyote frowned like he wanted to argue something, but Bob continued before he had the chance. "And to be fair, I kind of pegged you and Hangman as like the pretty divas from high school, you know? So it's not like we don't all make some snap judgments sometimes," Bob offered with a small grin.
Coyote looked at him surprised for a moment before a wide smirk split his face. "You think we're pretty, do you?"
Bob rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, you two do not need me to tell you that," he chuckled.
"Eh, well, we like hearing it anyway," Coyote laughed.
(Javy didn't tell Bob that he thought the WSO was quite pretty too, actually.)
-
They found themselves hanging out nearly every day for the next three weeks.
The pair of them visited a few more museums since that was sort of their thing now, but mostly they hung out in the late evenings when their families were already retiring for the night. That way they didn't need to feel bad about ditching the people they got to see far too rarely. They would drive somewhere, grab a snack and eat it on the hood of the truck while parked at some parking lot, a park, or some other quieter place.
But they still found some activities to do as well. They found a fun outside putt-putt course, went to see a couple of late-night movie showings, and had a very fun night at an arcade where a table hockey game got intensely competitive, and Javy showed off his frankly unbelievable skills on a dance mat. Bob dragged Javy to bowling one night, where he got to show off his skills in turn, having done a lot of bowling with his cousin growing up.
Bob did surprise even himself by noticing a want to prioritize hanging out with Javy while also still getting family time. Where did all this social battery come from all of a sudden? Bob couldn't remember ever having this much energy to meet someone even after spending the whole day with family members. He chalked it up to Javy's comforting presence making everything feel easier. There was also the fact that – probably thanks to the circumstances of the dagger mission – there was absolutely zero need to pretend or put on a front between them. They could be candid with each other, which eased Bob's nerves a great deal too. Instead, it was all.. easy.
One evening toward the end of his stay in Texas, Bob heard his Meemaw chattering away excitedly about Robby's new friend to his Pop as they were getting ready for bed. Which promptly made Bob choke on his evening tea, because friend spoken like that was Grandma Speak for boyfriend. Javy had come in for coffee earlier that day, at the insistence of his Meemaw, who was now telling Pop "what a charming, handsome young man that Machado boy was" and how "they looked so sweet together". "No wonder Robby's been spendin' so much time with him. New sweethearts like that can't stand to stay apart," Meemaw sighed.
Bob took a lot after his Pop, both in looks and character, meaning that preferring to stay quiet and letting others talk was his Pop's trademark that Bob had somehow inherited. Which was why it was all the more surprising to hear Pop join in with a grunt, "I agree. He seemed like a smart kid. It's good for Robert."
On the one hand, Bob was glad to hear his grandparents clearly had no issue with him supposedly dating a man, but on the other hand he was still reeling from them even thinking he and Javy were together. That was absurd, right? They were just friends. They acted with each other like they did with all of their other friends, there was nothing special about their situation, right? Meemaw was just being a meemaw again.
Deep down, Bob knew the answer to that, just like he knew how pleased it made him to hear that his family apparently thought he and Javy were a couple. He just wasn't quite ready to admit it to himself yet.
-
"...we are now boarding passengers who require extra assistance as well as any active duty military," came the announcement over the PA, and Bob got up. There was only one other person heading to the gate just ahead of him, and—
"Javy?"
Javy whipped around in a perfect parallel of their first meeting here in Texas almost a month ago.
"I thought you weren't gonna fly back?" Bob asked, wondering if he had somehow summoned the man before him by thinking about him too much all morning (and the night before). It hadn't helped that his Meemaw had been asking him to bring "that lovely friend of yours" for another visit as he had hugged her goodbye.
Before the pilot could answer, the person working the counter interrupted them.
"Since you two gentlemen are our only active duty passengers on this flight, we have upgraded your seats to first class, free of charge, as a thank you for your service," the lady smiled at them, handing them their new boarding passes.
"Oh, uhm, thank you very much, ma'am," Bob stammered.
He never expected (or wanted) any special treatment just because he was Navy, but knew that it would cause only more extra hassle for the workers if he refused the upgrade, so he just thanked them and walked in after Javy. Besides, he couldn't lie that the extra leg room wasn't welcome, even if the flight was only three and a half hours.
He caught up with Javy.
"Yeah, so, I thought you were supposed to have that boys' trip with Hangman and drive back together. What happened?"
Javy snorted. "The fucker went back a few days ago already. Said he had things to do."
"Things like Rooster?" Bob guessed.
"Mmhmm."
Bob snorted too. "Guess that wasn't too surprising."
"Yeah, I don't know why I expected anything else," Javy grumbled, but his voice held a clear fondness for his best friend. "But now I get to travel with you, so it all worked out," he winked.
"Oh, our seats are together," Bob said, in a higher voice than he'd have liked. That was a lot of proximity with a man he only just realized he has feelings for. No big deal. This was fine.
"Not tired of me, are you, Bobby?"
"No! No, not at all! I didn–"
It was then he saw that Javy was smiling mischievously.
"Rude," he harrumphed, blushing, and poked Javy in the chest in retaliation as he moved past the slightly shorter man to sit on the window seat.
Javy snickered as he sat down, and then they fell silent as other passengers started trickling on board.
Bob was feeling slightly panicked. For some reason, now that he had realized he had a crush on the man sitting next to him, it was suddenly hard to know how to act around him. Bob groaned at himself internally. Why did he have to make it difficult now after weeks of easy conversation? A week ago he could just be with Javy, easy as anything, and now all of a sudden he was silently freaking out about the fact that their hands were nearly touching on the armrests. Get a grip, Floyd.
Ever since their late-night discussion about ex-partners two days ago, and Bob had found out that Javy dated men as well as women, it seemed like some sort of dam in his brain had broken. Suddenly he could think of the pilot as a real possibility, and let all sorts of thoughts run free that he had kept buried to the best of his ability thus far. Thoughts that one generally did not have about people one called friends.
Well, if he was being honest with himself, those thoughts had been there for weeks now. He distinctly remembered having a thought or two that day at beach football. (And they called him smart. Bob mentally shook his head at himself). Even so, he had never entertained the thoughts further, and instead kept them very carefully locked up in a box, only escaping when he wasn't concentrating – which he tried to keep to a minimum. But now he found it very nearly impossible to contain them at all.
"You okay there?" Javy asked, his soft voice sounding both a little confused and worried.
Perhaps Bob's internal freakout wasn't as internal as he'd thought.
"'M fine," he croaked, which obviously didn't sound reassuring at all.
"Are you nervous about flying commercial?" Javy tried.
"No, not at all. I'm a backseater, I'm used to not piloting myself," Bob shrugged.
"Oh. Cause I just thought, if you were, I'd have offered to hold your hand."
Sirens screamed in Bob's head as he stared at Javy's hand propped invitingly on the armrest. Too many different possibilities for why the pilot was doing this raced his mind all at once.
"Are- Are you nervous?" was what he settled on.
"Would you hold my hand if I was?"
Javy's expression was carefully blank, and Bob swallowed thickly.
"Of course, if you wanted that," Bob replied.
"Then yes, I'm nervous," Javy nodded. "Awfully nervous," he repeated, nudging Bob's hand with his own.
The sirens in his head screamed even louder. Was this flirting?? Was Javy really flirting with him? Was that what was happening? Why would he want to hold Bob's hand when he obviously wasn't actually nervous?
"O-okay," Bob stuttered, and took Javy's hand in his own. 
It was surprisingly soft despite the calluses from flying a jet. Holding Javy's hand like this felt simply electrifying, and Bob felt himself getting warm all over. He risked a glance at the pilot next to him, and saw that Javy was looking at their joined hands with a small, satisfied smile on his handsome face.
They didn't talk for a long while after that. The flight took off, leveled out, seatbelt signs went off, drinks were served, and all the while they kept holding hands. It seemed that by some unspoken agreement they weren't going to talk about whatever this was on a plane surrounded by people, but instead kept up reassuring squeezes of their joined hands or stroked their thumbs over the other's knuckles. Javy lifting their joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to Bob's knuckles at the very least washed away the last of his nerves, replacing them with a pleasant fluttering in his belly. He would demand a proper talk once they landed, but for now his brain calmed down, trusting that he needn't have freaked out over liking Javy after all.
--------------------------------------------
tagsies (once again probably not what you signed up for lol so feel free to ignore!): @writeforfandoms @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @marvelousmermaid @wildbornsiren @mayhem24-7forever @callsign-phoenix @hederasgarden @lt-natrace @yespolkadotkitty @luckyladycreator2 @alexxavicry @blue-aconite @writercole
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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years ago
Text
Ivy & Stone, Chapter Six: Ivy & Stone
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pairing: victorian au!javi gutiérrez x ofc (Florence Bell), victorian au!frankie morales x ofc (Florence Bell)
chapter rating: M (tense familial relationships, love triangle, period-realistic class dynamics/gender dynamics, angst w/ comfort, brief implication of male masterbat!on, brief bits of biphobia)
word count: 5k
a/n: shout out to my literal angel babe soulmate @laureliciousdefinition for creating as much (if not more) character background for Javi than i have. this series is as much your baby as it is mine.
and as always, i’m so interested in knowing what team you’re rooting for 🥰 my heart is currently with team stone/javi but frankie still lives in my head and heart rent free 🥹
series masterlist | team ivy playlist | team stone playlist
It was the eve of the annual Bell Manor Christmas Dinner, the relatively intimate gathering meant as a show of appreciation for the servant staff. This year, the Gutiérrez family was joining in on the festivities as well, marking the first time both families will be joining thanks to the blossoming love affair between Lord Javier and Lady Florence.
Lady Elizabeth took charge of planning and executing the five-course feast, enlisting the help of Florence, Anna, and Leo to ensure everything got done on time while the kitchen staff enjoyed a much needed day off.
Lord Thomas, Benjamin, Javi, and Lady Maribel were also on the grounds, the four out hunting pheasants on the large estate. Frankie was the only servant working this afternoon, tasked with joining the group to carry back any splendors as well as to carry Lady Maribel’s rifle.
Tonight, Florence and Javi would be formally announcing their engagement, though both families were already aware of the upcoming union. It was a custom in society to make a formal announcement to not only their families, but also the servant staff as a few of them would be moving with Florence once her and Javi finally wed, before sending invitations out to the high society folks in town.
Though today should have been a glee-filled day—any normal young lady would have had sore cheeks from grinning so hard—Florence felt sick with nerves. She’d never quite prepared herself for this day, always assuming that’s she’d remain unmarried—until she met Frankie, and even then, their engagement wouldn’t have included all of this formality and tradition.
Speaking of Frankie, his presence at tonight’s dinner was quite possibly the biggest contributor to her nausea. Tonight, she’d have to look him in the eye while she and Javi announced their engagement, likely blindsiding him with the news. Though they hadn’t spoken or even seen each other in the weeks since the ball, she was quite sure that neither him nor the rest of the servant staff was aware of the engagement—her lady in waiting would have warned her of the gossip by now if that was the case.
While dicing potatoes, Florence couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to the men out hunting. Frankie loathed such occasions, calling it a pitiful attempt at the upper class trying to mask themselves as humble, the act of going out to hunt for food while having an entire kitchen staff preparing prime roast for them comical to the truly humble men and women of the country. She always tended to agreed with him on things like that.
Beyond the concern for his mood, she was also consumed with worry over Javi and Frankie being forced into spending an afternoon together, though she wasn’t sure they’d have much grounds for conversation. Frankie tended to avoid speaking to men like Javi at all costs, but Javi was quite a different breed. He didn’t like to obey the stuffy rules of society, his dearest friend being a middle-class playwright, after all. But for some reason, the idea of the two of them conversing was worse than the two of them ignoring each other. Surely, with the two men knowing what they know, both of them well aware that the only thing they had in common besides their disregard for society was the woman that they loved. The woman that loved both of them so equally she felt ripped in half most days.
“Aren’t you so excited for tonight, dear?” Lady Elizabeth chimed to her daughter as Florence walked to the sink to rinse the potatoes. Her mother had been in a particularly good mood since the engagement, though Florence was sure it had more to do with the ending of her romance with Frankie than her upcoming nuptials. After all, her mother had made little effort to get to know Javi beyond the common courtesies shown to the son of a Viscount. It was impossible for her to be this pleased over Florence’s choice in a man, considering she would likely hate him as much as she hated Frankie if she knew how against society and tradition Javi was.
“Over the moon,” Florence replied dryly as she set the now rinsed potatoes in the colander on the countertop.
“I swear,” her mother sighed, “I have never seen a young lady so gloomy whilst being offered the world.”
“I assure you I’m not gloomy over my choice in partner, mother. I’m gloomy over all of this unnecessary pomp and circumstance on a night meant to be spent appreciated our staff,” Florence clarified as she walked over to Leo, watching his knife work as he chopped celery.
“All of this ‘pomp and circumstance’ is a tradition, Florence. A tradition that has been around for hundreds of years—“
“Everyone who needs to know already does,” she groaned. “You know fully well that tradition isn’t the reason for the announcement tonight.”
“And what might you be implying?” Lady Elizabeth questioned with a hand on her hip.
“I think she means to imply you have ulterior motives, mother,” Anna chimed in, for once seeming to take the side of her elder sibling. “And I must admit, I agree.”
“Our staff deserves to hear the good news—“
“Our staff or Mr. Frankie?” Leo questioned, causing his mother to stand there in shock, gawking at her children who suddenly all seemed to be against her.
“Enough of this.” Florence watched as her mother turned around and resumed her prep work, a smirk growing on her face at their ability to get under her skin.
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The weather was abismal today, dark clouds looming over the entire countryside, the entire morning spent underneath a constant drizzle that left Frankie’s socks wet through the years-old boots in urgent need of replacing.
To make matters even worse, the company that he was forced into sharing this afternoon was perhaps the worst he could imagine for himself. Lord Thomas, while kind and mostly altruistic in nature, had made it clear that he only respected Frankie for his handiwork and knowledge, not as a suitor for his eldest daughter. Lord Benjamin, as witty as he was, was also incredibly dry and sarcastic, but never in the way that pulled a sincere laugh out of the gardener. Lady Maribel was quiet and too focused on Lord Benjamin to irritate Frankie, causing her to be the most tolerable of the group.
But it was the man walking beside him that irked him the most. His competition. The handsome lord that had managed to sweep the love of Francisco’s life off her feet. Lord Javier.
He was a fine enough looking man, Frankie had to admit, but it was the mystery in his eyes, his withdrawal from the rest of the group, his insistence on steering the conversation away from himself that had gotten under Frankie’s skin. Was he always this way? If so, he wasn’t quite sure what Florence had ever seen in him that made him worthy of her love. To Frankie, he seemed simply…removed.
“Fine day out, wouldn’t you say, Mr. Morales?” Lord Thomas proclaimed as the five-some trudged through the wet grass and mud of the estate’s acres and acres of open field. Frankie forced an obviously strained smile onto his face and nodded. “Have you ever been much of a hunter?”
“No, my lord,” he exhaled, hoping to bore him out of conversation.
“Why not?” Benjamin inquired.
“I don’t relish in the unnecessary murder of innocent creatures for entertainment,” Frankie replied, leaving the group speechless except for Javi.
“Exactly my thoughts,” Javi glanced over at him with a smile.
And yet here you are, Frankie longed to point out but stopped himself when he realized that the lord was likely as forced into this event as he was due to his budding romance with Florence.
The romance he couldn’t help but feel that he helped make possible after his and Florence’s relationship-ending fight in the kitchen. Frankie spent every single second since then beating himself up over the way he handled things. If he could go back in time, he’d do everything different. He wouldn’t have pushed her away, wouldn’t have taken his fear and anger out on her, he wouldn’t have ended things so abruptly, and most of all, he wouldn’t have made her cry.
The sight of tears falling down her cheeks by his doing would haunt him long into the afterlife, of that he was sure.
Now, he had to live the the consequences of his impulsivity, watching her new man try to win over her family who likely already adored him.
If only he had the power to go back and live permanently in the summer, when the air was warm and light and easy, just like their relationship once was. He’d stay that way forever, acquainting himself with each freckle on her brown skin, each curve and straight of her body, each strand of hair on her head until he knew her better than the God himself. He’d spend his life walking through the garden with her, speaking just for the sake of hearing her laughter, existing just to bring a smile onto her face. He’d love her the way she deserved to be loved, the way he could only love her in his dreams now.
“Tell me, Mr. Morales, how long does it take you to tend to the grounds each day?” Lord Javier’s voice broke him out of his fantasy. He cleared his throat and glanced at him, finding himself sick with jealousy as he studied the ease of his smile.
“I cannot do it all in a day, not even in a week,” he replied, wishing he could voice his disinterest in conversation.
“You must enjoy it then,” Javi continued, gesturing at the land.
“Quite,” he nodded in confirmation. “I’ve always enjoyed being in nature.”
“It’s your passion, then,” Javi stated more as a fact than a question. “No wonder this is the best garden in the countryside.”
“Thank you, m’lord,” Frankie suddenly felt guilty over his spite, realizing now that Florence may have very well picked the only decent person in high society to fall in love with, seeing as no one—not even his own employers—had complimented his hard work so casually, as though he didn’t need to repay the favor. “I take it you’re a man who values the beauty in nature.”
“I value the beauty in everything, particularly the ugly things, but yes, nature is quite the subject,” Javi flashed him another winning smile. “Although, I must admit, as of late I can only seem to focus on one subject in particular.”
“You paint, I take it?” Frankie asked, shocked at the ease of conversing with the viscount-heir.
“I do,” Javi confirmed. “When I lived back home in Barcelona, I painted a lot of architectural pieces since it’s what surrounded me. Then when I moved to Paris, all I could seem to paint was scenes—couples sitting together on verandas, the city lights at night, the dark, muggy streets in the low part of town that I’d drunkenly stumbled my way through on more than one occasion,” Javi chuckled and Frankie was shocked to hear himself letting out a huff of amusement as well. “And then I moved here. Thought I’d spend my time painting debutants and whatever lord or lady decided they deserved a portrait to further inflate their egos, but then I met the most striking, captivating young woman I’ve ever seen. Now, all I can paint is her.”
“She must be quite the subject, then,” Frankie played dumb, turning his eyes forward as his stomach flipped yet again, the jealousy returning.
“I’d quite enjoy painting her for the rest of my life. Just as you, I imagine, would quite enjoy seeing her in your garden.” Frankie’s lips parted as he turned to look at Javi with wide eyes, shocked that Florence had seemingly filled him in on their affair. “You know better than anyone just how much of a mark her love leaves upon the heart, so I hope you won’t hold it against me when I tell you that I would do anything to keep her around.”
“I do not hold anything against you, m’lord,” Frankie assured, only half-lying. “But if this is your way of asking me to cease my loving her, I am afraid I will have to disappoint you. My love for her has no end. No matter what.”
“I believe you and I are more alike than we think, Mr. Morales.”
Frankie swallowed his desire to respond, unsure of whether or not he had the right words to convey the sickly feeling deep inside.
Did it help or hurt him to know that his replacement was just like him, except for his lordship and wealth. Was that truly all that was keeping him from being able to love Florence the way he longed to? If one day the universe decided to gift him the splendors of wealth, could he then love her freely—would he then be worthy? The mere wishing of this fantasy to come true very well might have been a betrayal to everything he ever believed in, but the wishing continued regardless.
After the hunt was over and the two pheasants Benjamin and Lady Maribel managed to shoot down were sent into the village for the villagers to consume, Frankie faced the daunting task of getting dressed up for dinner tonight.
He bathed the dirt and grime of the day off in his tub filled with a mixture of boiling and ice cold water to create a temperature warm enough to prevent him from catching his death in the winter chill. Once he was finished and clean, he styled his unruly waves in a posh manner—quite like Javier always kept his, though Frankie would never admit to it—before throwing on his best and only suit. He had no mirror to admire himself in, but he was sure that his reflection in this outrageous costume would do more harm than good so he didn’t mind. No matter how ridiculous and self-sacrificing dressing up like the people he loathed most felt, he’d do anything for the chance of winning Florence back, even if it meant he’d have to impersonate her new lover for a night.
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As Javi stood in the dining room before the feast begun, watching as his parents mingled with the Bell’s and disregarded the supposed guests of honor, he began to feel suffocated by the segregation of the classes. Both Anna and Leo had no issue finding conversation with the servants, surely viewing them as an extended branch of their family by now, but the eldest, Benjamin, and his parents hardly gave them a second glance. Javi found himself wondering what side Florence would lean towards, but one glance at Frankie across the room, sipping his wine as he stood with a group of his coworkers, answered the question for him.
Not wishing to continue the segregation, Javi walked towards the group, hoping to subtly enter whatever conversation they had going as a person, not a lord.
“I’d rather just a bloody day off,” one of the chefs groaned, earning nods of agreement from the group. Frankie kept silent, his eyes wandering around the room, seemingly lost in thought. “I’m still having to work, showing up to this charade.“
Suddenly, one of the ladies in waiting realized Javi’s presence, her already porcelain skin turning even paler as she looked at the chef who’d just been speaking. The middle aged cook gasped, covering his mouth. “My lord, I—“
“It is ridiculous, isn’t it?” Javi added with a smile, assuring the group that he meant no harm. “I can see what they were trying to accomplish, but I tend to find sending my staff on a paid vacation is a better show of gratitude than all of this…pageantry.”
“Indeed,” the chef chuckled, still nervous, and cracked a hopeful smile. “Perhaps we should come work for you, m’lord.”
“Well,” Javi shrugged with a charming smirk as he was the only one aware of the upcoming nuptials that would join not only the families but also the staff. “I would be honored to have any of you in my home. Perhaps this time next year, some of you will be.”
Javi’s eyes lock with Frankie’s suddenly intent ones peering at him, the jealousy and insecurity in his chest swelling at the gardener’s mere presence at the event.
He hated the spite that grew in him whenever he looked at Frankie, having tried for so many years to grow into the kindest, most secure man he could be after a life spent in the shadow of his less-than kind, insecure father, but the mere thought of Florence’s first love sitting at the same table as them filled him with worry. How could he ever compete with someone so naturally captivating? Someone who could have so little to offer and yet still win over the most beautiful woman in England, and likely the entire world.
“Frankie, did you see what Jonathan whittled?” Anna, the younger Bell daughter aged seventeen, who managed to evade each of Javi’s attempts at friendship, approached the gardener along with a young man dressed in clothing modest enough to give away his servant-hood. Frankie forced his scowl away to marvel at the whittled hummingbird, plucking it from her hands to admire it up close.
“I whittled it for her,” the young man declared with a smitten smile, his eyes locked on Anna.
“It’s beautiful,” Frankie complimented Jonathan with a gentle smile and a nod, handing it back to Anna. “You should treasure that. You couldn’t ask for better craftsmanship.”
“You only say that because you taught me,” Jonathan teased, earning a laugh from Frankie.
“You taught him? I should have known. You’re so skillful at everything, Frankie,” Javi watched as Anna ignored the young man her age who was clearly taken with her in favor of the gardener. His curiosity (and jealousy) only grew as he came to realize just how well liked Francisco was by not only Florence, but by her siblings as well.
Thankfully, Javi’s comparing was cut off by the sound of heels clicking against the wood of the Bell manor’s grand staircase. Florence appeared like something straight out of a dream, her white, sparkling gown gleaming in the candlelight contrasted with her brown skin as she floated her way down with a grace and beauty Javi had never been so privileged to witness before. His jaw felt like it hung so low it was scraping the floor as she locked eyes with him, her lips flickering into a knowing grin.
Suddenly, it didn’t matter who she once loved and the impact they might still hold over her, because in this room filled with admiring eyes, she was looking only at him. No one else but him.
So swept away by her radiance and attention, the young Lord missed the way his competition standing directly behind him was also lost in admiration. When seeing her gaze seemingly land upon him, Frankie very nearly found himself stepping towards her as though he was being called to it like a religious man to the priesthood. But before he could will his feet to move, Lord Javier beat him to it.
It felt like a punch to the gut realizing that this was the way it would always be, now. Frankie would spend the rest of his life having to watch the woman he loved walk into the arms of another man. Her hands resting on his perfectly groomed beard felt like a stabbing, her smile twisting the knife until finally, he spotted it.
The diamond ring worth more than Frankie would ever see in his lifetime gleaming in the light on her left hand.
“Dios mío,” Javi whispered to Florence as she cupped his face, completely in awe by her beauty. “You’re so beautiful, mi amor.”
Florence pinched his chin and Javi clasped his hand over hers, removing it from his face so that he could place a kiss upon the back of it. Florence beamed as she interlocked their fingers, Javi reluctantly turning from her to walk her into the dining hall where everyone stood watching the two simply love each other, a proud smile on his face as he paraded his trophy.
Though her smile wouldn’t show it, no faltering or fading to be found, when she locked eyes with Frankie across the room, she felt as though she might die. The wind left her lungs, the blood rushed to her head, her heart ceased to beat. Seeing him standing there in his best suit, looking more unfamiliar than he ever had before, the only thing she could recognize about him was the pain he wore so vulnerably on his gentle face. When his eyes flickered down to her diamond ring, she swore she could see his throat swell with anguish, his eyes lifting to hers once again as though to confirm this was really happening—that this was the beginning of the nightmare he always knew, and always feared, would come true.
The clinking of Javi’s glass sounded like an alarm to both of their shattering hearts, waking them both up to the reality of their situation.
“Lady Florence and I have an announcement we’d like to make,” Javi declared proudly before looking to his side at his betrothed. Her eyes didn’t meet his, instead they remained locked with Frankie’s across the room. When Javi followed her stare, he felt overwhelmed with jealousy and insecurity, the smile he was wearing now fading into a flat line of harsh realization. No matter her last name, no matter the jewels he draped upon her to claim her as her own, he could never force her eyes away from wandering.
“Yes,” Florence cleared her throat, tearing her eyes from Frankie’s to look at Javi with a beaming smile, almost convincing enough to fool him out of his worry. Swallowing his feelings, Javi gave her a flicker of a smile, one that he knew she could see right through. “I am more than pleased to announce my engagement to Lord Javier, the man who’s managed to not only captivate my curious mind, but also my reckless, indecisive heart. I am…so excited for our future together, my love.”
While Javi struggled to believe her words, the room burst into cheers, both families gleeful at the news they were already well aware of. Javi’s clenched jaw relaxed under her soft gaze, her hand squeezing his to bring him back to earth and back to her. He cracked a more believable smile and placed his hand upon hers that rested on his arm, turning to the staff that had begun to walk up to the couple to offer their congratulations.
“My lord, my lady,” the chef from earlier greeted them with a bow. Javi was quick to shake his head and offer his hand to shake instead, shocking the man for a moment before he accepted it. “It would be an honor to work in your kitchen once the two of you wed.”
“It would be an honor to have you,” Florence returned with a smile, reaching to touch the man’s arm. “You’ve served my family well for so many years. I’m sure we can find you a place in our home, can’t we, Javi?”
“Yes,” he nodded at his soon-to-be wife before turning to the man again. “It would be an honor, sir.”
After a long bout of congratulations, the couple had only a few people left to greet—Frankie and Javier’s father, the Viscount, Lord Gutiérrez.
“Mi amor,” Javi pulled Florence away once Frankie had begun to make his way towards the couple, the timing no coincidence. “I have a gift I would like to give you.”
“Javi,” she exhaled and reached to pet his face. “You needn’t shower me like this.”
“I enjoy it,” he assured, clasping her hand in his before taking her into the library for some privacy.
Florence’s eyes kept watching the entryway while Javi walked across the room to grab the gift he’d stashed away earlier in the afternoon with the help of Benjamin.
Noticing her split attention when he turned around, Javi let out a soft exhale. “You’re looking for him.”
Florence snapped her eyes to his and started to shake her head but he shushed her with a tender kiss, pressing his forehead to hers.
“One day, I hope you’ll love me the way you love him. I won’t stop trying to win your heart, you mean too much to me to surrender,” he whispered, his words breaking her heart.
She never meant for him to feel second best because he wasn’t. He was simply just the second love of her life.
“Javi,” she tilted his head back to look into his eyes. “I love you. You have my heart. I promise you.”
“I do not have it fully,” he countered softly, no malice in his tone. “And that isn’t a crime, simply a fact. You love him, and you love me. But I fear there will come a day when that’s not enough anymore. Will you bear my children and still wish to run away with him? Will you carry my family name and wish it was his?”
Florence’s lips quivered at the question, her constant lack of responses beginning to make her feel like not only an idiot, but cruel. She couldn’t even give either of them an answer let alone the completeness of her heart.
“I cannot foresee the future, my love,” she swiped her thumb over his jaw. “I do not know what I can promise you besides that the love I have for you is true enough to pull me away from him…to bind myself to you for the rest of my life. It is you I am choosing to love. I cannot force my heart to let go of the love it holds for him if it is not willing.”
“Preciosa,” he cupped her cheeks with his hands, shaking his head at her as he pulled her in for a hug, nestling her head beneath his chin. “My heart aches for yours. Promise me you will never lose this honesty you and I have built—that you will always tell me the truth of your heart, even if it bruises mine.”
“I promise,” she nodded, holding him tight.
He kissed the top of her head and let her go, sucking in a deep breath as he walked her over to the built-in bookshelf, her eyes locking on the canvas propped up against it on the floor, a draping over it to conceal the painting.
“I’ve been working on this…since I met you, really,” he gave her a nervous smile as he lifted the covering. He watched her closely as her eyes took in the portrait of herself, Javi’s skill blowing her away.
“It’s like I’m looking in a mirror,” she chuckled, bending down to run her fingers over it. “You are so talented, my love.”
“It took a few tries,” he admitted, scratching his neck. “I…ruined the first one.”
“Ruined?” Florence turned her eyes to his, a crease in her brow as she studied his blush.
“Yes,” he lowered himself into a squat to be eye level with her. “After the night at the theater, I went home and…relieved some of the tension you and I built on the terrace.”
It was Florence’s turn to blush.
“It worked out for the better anyways,” he chuckled, shrugging. “The painting wasn’t quite right. Didn’t capture your beauty well enough.”
“Well, this one is stunning, though I believe that has more to do with the artist than the subject.” Javi grinned like a fool at her praise and chuckled to himself before hearing his name being called by his father. Florence stood up abruptly, intimidated by the Viscount’s stern demeanor. “Lord Gutiérrez—“
“Please,” he walked over with a winning smile that looked so similar to his sons yet it didn’t hold the same genuine and effortless kindness. “We are to be family soon. Call me father.”
Javi swallowed his objection, hating the idea of his father looking this grown woman in the eye and demanding such familiarity from her, but too intimidated by him to say anything.
“My son,” the lord placed his hand upon Javi’s face, causing him to wince a bit which did not go unnoticed by his bride-to-be. “What a lovely choice in bride. I am happy to see you taking your responsibilities seriously.”
“I’m simply taking my love for Florence seriously,” he replied, his eyes flickering over to Florence’s concerned ones. “Shall we head back? I’m sure my betrothed is being missed.”
“Florence my dear, I would like a moment alone with my son,” Florence opened her mouth to object but Javi shook his head and silently urged her to obey. The Viscount waited until she left to speak again, walking over to the armchair in the corner of the room and sitting. “Mr. Seaworth is noticeably absent tonight.”
“Yes,” Javi confirmed with trepidation, walking over to the chair beside his father’s.
“I take this engagement to mean all of that…your experimenting, shall we call it…is over,” the Viscount gave his son a smug look, Javi’s eyes looking away in shame. “Mírame.” [Look at me.]
“Si,” Javi nodded. “Hace tiempo que se acabó.” [Yes…It’s been over for some time.]
“Bueno,” he nodded and stood up. “I wouldn’t want your new bride to be dissuaded by the mistakes of your…curiosity.” He spat the last word. “Come. It is rude for us to delay the feast with conversation.”
Javi sighed and stood up in obedience. “Yes, father.”
“And one more thing,” his father added. “Keep your eye on that gardener.”
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chocobothis · 2 years ago
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In my personal canon, Leon absolutely becomes a house/trophy husband after Vendetta. The background is a little bit after the events of RE6 him and Javi get married. Marriage is a tighter, easier to prove thing than toting around the paperwork for Power of Attorney.
The lead up is Leon (and his cat, Cat) end up in Albany while he’s recovering from the beating he took. Because there’s no way he’s not recovering a while from getting thrown into things by Arias. Javi plays the, “Well, why not come spend time with your husband?” because he actually does care for Leon. He needs him to take care of his self. Stewing alone in his fancy, but empty, apartment isn’t taking care of himself. Albany means he’s there with his friends and baby Cat.
At first, Leon is fussy but does it because he’s admittedly a pushover, especially when Sherry, Claire, and Nico turn on the puppy dog eyes. Javi also has very pretty, very convincing puppy dog eyes but he needed back up. So he shows up with a duffel bag, Cat, and Cat’s stuff. While Javi also assures him that he hates being alone and Leon being there is good for him too.
Pretty quick it just turns into this comfortable relationship. Leon goes to his physical therapy, gets to actually relax, and is taking care of himself. Javi believes in things like three meals a day and going outside. Where he actually feels better and more human.
When he gets better Javi offers a place for him to stay and try having a real break from his job. Not something where he’s relaxing because he’s injured. Then if he likes he can just stay as a househusband. Javi makes plenty of money and it’s not like Leon doesn’t have hella savings. If he wants to consult or something he can but he doesn’t have to. This is about Leon having done enough for long enough.
It starts out difficult then Leon settles into loving it. He loves that he gets to actually start to figure out who Leon S. Kennedy is again. Now he can try different hobbies, learning to cook with his husband (that he’s very in love with), etc. The phone he has lasts more than six weeks when he’s not recovering. If he wants to make plans he can do it more than three days in advanced. Reservations for restaurants aren’t being made with an asterisk. He’s not alone anymore. Javi, Chris, Claire, Jake Fox, Nico, Jill, Carlos, etc. They’re around for him and he’s around for them. He even gets to babysit the puppy 
They have a second wedding that’s an actual wedding instead of signing papers at a courthouse. Leon ends up changing his name to Leon Reyes. Javi’s last name is one of the only things he really has left from family. Now, Leon also has someone he gets to belong to.
-
Him living in Albany, with the others, also means he’s much more physically present in his polycule. The married breakdowns are Jill and Carlos, Claire and Nico, and Javi and Leon. But, in actuality the six of them are their own dedicated relationship.
Leon’s still close, or as close as he can get, to Ada because that’s a foundational relationship. Are most of the others thrilled? Not really. Nico likes Ada since they’ve met and Ada’s liked Nico the few times they’ve worked together. Which is more of it’s own concern that no one looks too closely at.
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an-unknown-writers-world · 2 years ago
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Just Need The Right Partner
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Summary: Reader is a terrible pool player. Jake "Hangman" Seresin teaches them they just need the right partner. (I’m terrible at these)
Warnings: Cheesy, terrible writing, (I have no idea what this turned into, it’s not what I planned to write)
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader (Only one use of Y/N)
Characters: Jake “Hangman” Seresin, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, Javy “Coyote” Machado, Natasha “Phoenix” Trace, Robert “Bob” Floyd. Mentions of Penny Benjamin, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell,
Word Count: 3,055 (Sorry? Not sorry)
A/N: This started off as one thing and sort of took off into its own thing. Not the best thing I’ve ever written, but clearly it wanted to be written. Also know very little about pool, so if these details are wrong – I would love to know!
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It was your night off, but you still found yourself hanging out at The Hard Deck. You'd worked for your aunt Penny for almost two years and frequently spent your off time at the bar. It felt like home even though you were twelve hundred miles away from your actual home.
A week ago, a new round of aviators returned to Top Gun for some special assignment. They were even more competitive than you were used to from the other pilots, and almost all seemed to know each other personally. When you asked Penny about it, she said they were all previous graduates, most of them at the top of their respective classes. At least, that's what Pete had told her. You still weren't sure what you were supposed to call that guy – he said it was okay to call him Pete, but everyone in the bar referred to him by his call sign.
Dagger squad had been in every night since they arrived at the base. You had warmed up to a few of them. Phoenix was all-around amazing, Coyote made you laugh, and Bob was the sweetest aviator you had met since you started. Rooster was well-rounded �� funny, kind, and caring; he reminded you much of your older brother, except your brother could not play the piano. Then there was the gorgeous blonde green-eyed aviator that seemed to be the cockiest of all- Hangman. His southern drawl and kilowatt smile could make you weak in the knees if you let it.
Most of the squad was in The Hard Deck tonight, except for Coyote and Hangman. You'd be lying if you said that you didn't notice, but you didn't let their absence stop you from enjoying your night off with the squad. It was Bob's shot in the game of pool you were playing; it was Phoenix and Bob against you and Rooster. You weren't losing terribly, but that was only thanks to Rooster's skill set.
Penny waved at you from the bar, catching your attention. "Be right back," You excused yourself, handing the pool cue to Rooster.
"A bit preemptive," She smiled, pushing a tray of alcohol toward you. "I'm happy to see you enjoying yourself. It does my momma heart some good. You work hard." Penny was a family friend; you had always known her as 'Aunt Penny' growing up, so when your mom called her and said you needed a fresh start, she offered you a job and a place to stay. She wasn't quite old enough to be your mom but was there any time you needed her.
"Thank you," You smiled back at her, "They are pretty great." You looked back over your shoulder at them. Rooster held the pool cue up in your direction with a smile.
"Go," Penny said, "take the tray with you."
You picked it up and carefully carried it through the crowded bar before setting it on the table next to where you were playing.
"We always have to wait in line," Bob almost whined.
"Perks," You shrugged with a smile before handing him a full beer.
Rooster exchanged the pool cue in his hand for the beer you were giving him. "Thanks," He smiled down at you.
"This is my preemptive request for forgiveness when we inevitably lose this game." You laughed.
You walked past him and leaned against the table, examining your shot options; none of them looked easy. The bell above the door rang in the background, alerting the bar to new patrons. Walking around the table, you tried to get a different angle for a shot you thought you might be able to make.
The change didn't make a difference, so without any more delay, you bent over the table and took the shot. When the white cue ball made an impact, it barely budged the solid-colored ball. Your head hung in disappointment as you turned around.
"Hey, it's okay." Rooster squeezed your shoulder, trying to cheer you up. "You'll get it next time."
Rolling your eyes, you laughed, "I think I'm running out of next time."
"Well, well, what is going on here?" It was a deep smooth southern drawl coming from behind you. You bit your lips together to prevent a smile from creeping onto your face.
"Bagman," Phoenix replied bitterly. Hangman rolled his eyes at her remark. "Hey, Coyote." She sounded more pleasant when she greeted his cohort.
You had turned around, looking at him now, surprised to see he was also in civilian clothing; the whole team was tonight. His dark blue T-shirt clung tightly to his chest and biceps, accentuating his muscles.
"Hello, beautiful," He winked at you.
"Hey," You smiled back at him.
"Want our table?" Omaha asked Hangman. "We're heading out for the night."
"Coyote, wanna play?" He asked.
"I might finally win, so sure," Coyote smirked.
"We will hold it for you while you go to the bar," Fritz spoke.
With the distraction of Hangman and Coyote gone, your game resumed. Phoenix and Rooster had both lined up and shot perfectly. Pool was a game you clearly did not have the skill set for. Bob was lining up his shot when they returned to their table.
"I have got an idea," Hangman spoke, coming back to stand next to the tables.
"This outta be great," Rooster rolled his eyes.
"We'll play the losing team." He spoke again.
"Oh no," You spoke up, "After this, I am definitely done. You've already endured enough losses on my behalf." You finished looking at Rooster.
He smiled at you, opening his mouth to speak.
"Partner switch," Coyote spoke in the background, cutting off Rooster.
"I'm sure I can turn your luck around," Hangman looked at you. "You just need the right partner, and I can promise you that isn't Rooster."
He was arrogant, that's for sure. But you had seen him play pool far too many times now. He was damn good at it.
"Um," You hesitated, wanting to take him up on his offer, purely to spend time with him, but you didn't want to hurt Rooster. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"No, he's right," Rooster spoke, staring down Hangman. "let's do it."
"Well, why don't you wait and see how bad I am before you even agree to this." You spoke.
"It won't make me want you any less," Hangman smirked.
"It's your shot." Bob broke into the conversation.
"Great," You groaned.
You picked up your glass, still half full, and downed the liquor before turning to the table. You could feel everyone's eyes on you as you stared down the table, looking for a shot. There were fewer balls this time, making it easier to see the possibilities. You wanted the attention to end, so you lined up the easiest shot you could find. It was worse than your last shot. The cue ball barely tapped its intended target.
"See," You turned, looking at Hangman, "Bad doesn't begin to cover it."
He smirked, a twinkle of mischief in his emerald-green eyes, "No," He stepped closer to you, reached out, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, "I can work with that."
Your cheeks flushed, and you couldn't hide the gasp that escaped your lips. Your head was getting foggy. There should be no way one man could have that kind of effect on you. But here you were, weak in the knees and stomach in knots.
"I think I need another drink." Rooster grumbled before walking away.
"I'll be over here," Hangman stepped backward, still looking at you, "waiting for you."
You turned your back to him, trying to clear your mind, his words said one thing, but his eyes and body language made them seem like they meant something else. Phoenix wore a look of disappointment on her face. You could only assume it was due to the exchange she had just watched.
Standing there silently, you watched absentmindedly while the game finished playing out. Groaning each time your turn came. You could feel Hangman's eyes roam over you every time. It seemed like once the initial trash-talking between the group had passed, everyone settled down, and the laughter resumed. When Bob sunk the final ball to end the game, you felt a combination of relief and nervousness.
Before the other game could start, you returned to the bar to get another drink. You'd never been a big believer in liquid courage, but if there was any time to start believing in it, that would be right now. You exchanged a quick conversation with Penny before returning to the pool table. Rooster and Coyote were racking the balls while Hangman leaned against a stool watching over them.
"Alright, Hangman. I hope you are prepared to lose what I can only assume is a perfect winning streak." You said, coming to lean on the table next to his stool.
"Stop," He grinned, turning to face you, "Please, call me Jake. I've lost before, only on rare occasions involving illness or fatigue."
You rolled your eyes, smiling back at him. "Well, Jake," You emphasized his name, "I hope you'll forgive me when you lose."
"You want to break?" Coyote turned to ask you.
"Uh, that's an awful idea," You turned to look up at your partner, "Jake, please don't make me."
He laughed; it was a beautiful sound, "I'll never make you do anything you don't want to." He moved off the stool and headed towards the table.
And just like that, the game was on. True to his word, Jake never seemed to get upset with your awful skills. Occasionally he would help you with your shot by standing next to you and pointing easy ones out or changing your grip on the pool cue. Each time he came to your aide, he seemed to get closer, and his hand would linger a little longer. With his help, you did hit a few balls, they didn't go into a pocket, but they did at least move an inch or two.
The game seemed to fly by compared to the previous rounds. Before you knew it, only a few balls were left on the table, and it was your turn.
"You just need a little more oomph in your shot, that's all," Jake spoke, coming to stand next to you. "Here, let me show you," His hand slid down your back sending shivers up your spine. "Here," his voice was soft as he leaned over you, his hand laying on top of yours as you gripped the cue.
You couldn't focus on a single thing he was explaining, distracted by the heat radiating from him, engulfing every inch of you he touched. Your body reacted to his instructions, and you watched as the ball sank into the pocket. The clatter was enough to snap you back into the moment, turning to look at him like a giddy schoolgirl. When you turned to look at him, he didn't step back; you found yourself chest to chest with him, your breath hitched in your throat as you smiled up at him.
You could hear chatter between Rooster, Coyote, and the rest of the squad in the background. But it all sounded like a dull rumble as you looked into Hangman's eyes.
"See," He stated, grinning down at you. "You just needed the right partner."  
"You probably could have done that earlier in the game," You countered, trying to hide the effect he had on you.
"Yes, but then you couldn't say that you sunk the winning ball." He beamed with pride.
"We won?"
He nodded in response, taking the pool cue from your hand and laying it across the table behind you.
You didn't know a single pool rule other than hitting the ball in the hole. You always counted on someone to tell you if you were aiming for a stripe or solid color. You turned your head to look at your opponents. Rooster already had his back to you and was focused on talking to the rest of the group.
"We're playing Phoenix and Bob," Coyote said, pulling your attention back to the room. "Table's yours."
You turned back to the aviator still pressed against you. The longer you looked into his emerald green eyes, the foggier your head got. "I think I need some air." You spoke softly, unable to catch your breath.
Jake took half a step back, letting you pass him. His hand reached out to grab your own, interlacing his fingers with yours; he led you towards the back deck. You didn't object or pull away, just let him lead the way. If you were honest with yourself, you would have followed him anywhere he led. If you were more coherent, you would have noticed the gaze of his entire squad and your aunt, Penny, following your motions.
There wasn't a word exchanged between you until you passed the deck and were well into the sand, "where are we going?" You giggled.
He chuckled, "away from the noise. Here is good."
You half expected him to drop your hand; instead, you sat down on the sand. The soft breeze tousling your hair and the smell of salt in the air.
The whole night had taken a turn you weren't anticipating. Sure, Jake had been flirting with you since the night he showed up at the Hard Deck, but you assumed he was like that with all the girls. You hadn't witnessed him flirting with other girls, but surely, he was? Your head was swimming in thoughts. There was no space between you; if you were sitting any closer, you would have been sitting on his lap. You leaned your head onto his shoulder; you knew you should say something but didn't know what.
"Jake," You spoke his name softly.
"Yeah, doll?"
You smiled at the term of endearment, "I'm a babbler; if you don't say something soon, it's going to happen."
He chuckled, "I don't think I'd mind that one bit." He picked your intertwined hands up and rested them on his thigh, his thumb rubbing circles against the back of your hand. "I've never met a woman like you. All the places I've been, no one has captivated me like you."
"I'm not sure how to take that."
"It's a good thing, I promise." He paused for a moment; you weren't sure if it was for dramatic effect or if he was thinking of what to say next. "You're beautiful and intelligent, sarcastic, and witty enough to not only put up with me but do it right back."
You laughed, realizing he probably hadn't met many people, especially women, that could hold their own against him. Most were probably too captivated by his charm and good looks. Though, Phoenix did a pretty good job.
You weren't going to tell him that it didn't matter what came out of your mouth, snarky, witty, or otherwise; you were still weak in the knees every time he spoke.
"I'm sure you say that to all the girls, Hangman." You spoke, trying not to inflate his ego.
"I wish I could say that I did. But you are the most exquisite person I've ever interacted with."
You were thankful the only light around you was from the moon. It was dim enough that he most likely would not be able to see that your cheeks were burning from the blush.
"Did you just call me exquisite?"
He laughed, "yeah, I guess I did." He picked up your intertwined hands and gently kissed your knuckles. "I mean it, though."
You pulled your head back to look at him; while the lighting was dim, you could see the sincerity in his expression. The cocky charade had fallen, leaving a vulnerable Jacob Seresin in the pale moonlight. A beautiful sight that you were confident not many people had been blessed enough to see.
Before you could lose your gumption leaned up, pressing your lips to his. It was a chaste but sweet kiss and all the invitation he needed. He had a hold of your hips in one fluid motion, and you were straddling him on the beach. Jake's hands lingered on your hips under the hem of your shirt, the heat from his skin burning against your waist. Your fingers threaded through his short hair, grounding you through the fury of passionate kissing.
You were breathless when the kiss finally broke; you buried your face into the crook of his neck, trying to catch your breath.
"That's probably not what you had in mind when you said you needed air." Jake joked.
You kissed his neck, "the opposite, actually." You pulled back to look at him. "I expected to come out here alone. Clear my head, listen to the waves, maybe actually catch my breath." You chuckled.
"I mean, I can go inside." He raised an eyebrow at you, unable to hide the smirk on his face. He kissed the pulse point on your neck before kissing your jaw, "but only if that's really what you want."
"Don't you dare."
He kissed you again.
"Hangman," You heard Coyote yelling.
"Y/N" Rooster yelled. "We want a rematch."
You pulled back to look at Jake, hesitant to leave this setting. You were too happy at that moment, afraid you'd never experience it again.
"I promised I wouldn't make you do anything you didn't want to," Jake spoke softly, rubbing his hand soothingly across your back. "I'm happy to ignore them if that's what you want."
Shaking your head, "We should go." You agreed reluctantly, climbing off his lap.
"Let me help you," He stood up, reaching out his hands.
You took them graciously.
"You know they're going to be a nightmare to deal with now, right?" Jake spoke, intertwining your hands again.
"Natasha is going to hate me." You muttered.
"Not a chance; Phoenix loves you. We all do."
You looked up at him, smiling, holding on to his forearm with your other hand, stabilizing yourself as you made it to the deck. "Are you ready for this again, partner?"
He grinned, "I was born ready. You are, too, now that you have the right partner." He bent down and kissed you one last time before re-entering the bar.
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  A/N: If you’ve made it this far - thank you so so so much for reading! My Masterlist can be found here. All work is also available on AO3
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nellycanwrite · 2 years ago
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From the podcast episode
What sort of jobs would the triplets and friends have at the resort if they're asked to help out? Or a fun hc about each that hasn't been mentioned yet?
OOOOHHH YAAASSSS! @cheesy-cryptid and I actually had some fun little headcanons about their work in the resort! I'm gonna add in some fun little tidbits about their life in the Madrigal Resort while we're at it!
Angelina is our lovely Social Media Manager slash Influencer! She's a model for different clothing brands that will request a collaboration with her and mostly does advertisements for summer wear! She uses her popularity as a means to help advertise the Madrigal Resort and sometimes would even rope her family into her social media shenanigans. Ignacio is also fairly popular with Angelina's fans, and everyone wants to have a peak of mommy Evalina! But what mildly irks her is how Javier is always the one who would gain the most traction in her posts, especially on Tiktok. Javi doesn't like to be seen on camera, so it's been a running gag in her account to spot Javier whenever a blurb of him in the background could be seen (some would even go as far as to compile clips of blurred stolen videos of Javi and some audio recordings of his voice from Angi's many many videos). Angelina uses this to her advantage and sometimes ropes Javier into her schemes for the clout. But she makes sure to cut any on-cam face reveals of Javier.
Ignacio is our Rockin' Fiery Musician and Surf Teacher! Although he does go with Angelina for photoshoots on occasion (and is quite popular on social media as well), he's actually the star of the Madrigal Resort dinner as the lead singer and guitarist of the night! He also likes to do a little bit of fire shows with his gift when he sings. It's a headcanon of mine that he does fire breath performances for the thrill as well, but since it's a fire hazard, it's rare for him to do spitfire shows on evenings. During the day, he helps out with the kids who wants to learn how to surf. He also accompanies willing adults as well! You can say that he's also a volunteer life saver, but only if the lifeguards on the resort are too shorthanded for the amount of rifts in the beach. Angelina would sometimes film Ignacio with his shirt off for thirst trap videos
Javier is our All Rounder Manager! It's not really a shock on how Javier is a jack-of-all trades. The only difference is he's a master of all. He can definitely make advertisements and catch banger shots of the resort with his trusty drone and DSLR camera which is the main reason why the marketing for the Madrigal Resort is sky-high. He manages the website and bookings sometimes, and he schedules Ignacio's performances during the night. He can be an event coordinator and floor director, but he cannot, for the life of him, become the center of attention. He says it's too much of a drag. Contrary to what you may think, Javier knows all of the up-to-date trends and would sometimes give tips to Angelina on what content she should do next. He is hyperaware of his own popularity as the mystery triplet of the Madrigals, so he cashes in on that as well. But you can say that his biggest responsibility is to keep Angelina and Ignacio out of trouble (and possibly not to ignite a fire in the resort). His work doubled when Auri and Diego came into the picture, but he's thankful that Diego has enough sense in him to get the others out of trouble too. He's a big sweetheart, but he tends not to show it as much.
Bonus!
Everyone in the Madrigal Family is, one way or another, involved with the Madrigal resort!
Julieta's side of the family deals with room management, hospitality, and the resort's menus! Julieta and Agustin are head and sous chefs respectively, Isabela is front of the house and head steward, Luisa does front of the house too, but is in charge of the heavy lifting, and Mirabel is the one who does official Madrigal Resort tours (with a musical twist).
Pepa's side of the family is in charge of event planning and coordination, especially for bigger events like weddings, anniversaries, debuts, quinceanreas, and big celebrations! Pepa and Felix are head event coordinators, Dolores deals with the networking (wardrobe, make-up, stage decorators, you name it), Camilo is head hospitality and host for events, and little Antonio is still too young to really help out, but he often lets his animal friends to tricks for guests!
Bruno's side of the family deals more with internal management and advertisement! Evalina goes to board meetings in Alma's steed with Bruno. Sometimes, people tend to forget that Bruno is actually one of the owners of the resort since he mostly wears cargo shorts, a jacket with coconut stains, mismatched slippers, and overall just has an aloof look compared to his gorgeous wife.
---
Auri and Diego belong to the amazing @daliceus and @lunamadrigal! Feel free to drop some more Summer AU head canons if ya'll have more in store!
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raving-raven-writing · 2 years ago
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What's one sp character's backstory that you wish we knew more about?
Thanks for the ask @bendthecanon
I think for me I have several characters that I would look to learn more in regards to their background stories. -Javi: I want to know if he was always pursuing an engineering career or if something else called to him beforehand. I'd like to maybe learn a bit about his family as well, like if he had a partner, or if his parents were still alive, if any of his family was planned to come aboard Snowpiercer before Mel stole the train. -Ruth: I want to know if she was married beforehand or if she's always been single. She hasn't had much luck in the past with lovers, so idk, maybe she was divorced or widowed? I'd like to see how she interacted with her community pre-Freeze, if she was always so hospitable (as hospitality should be) or if that was something she forced herself to become for the train. -Oz: He mentioned very briefly about his mother, and to Wilford he mentioned he hadn't been brought up in a "creative environment". He has gotten better over the seasons, but the little that he mentions about his past makes me want to know more about his life pre-Freeze. He was a soccer/football player pre-Freeze--I'd like to know how a soccer player got a ticket onto the train. I can imagine that at the time, there was probably a lot of fighting in regards to buying tickets for Snowpiercer
-Dr. Headwood: I know she isn't main cast, but I want to see more of her. Her, her husband, and Dr. Pelton are all great. Dr. Headwood and her husband, Dr. Headwood, seemed so eccentric and I want to know if they were always so weird and they were working on a job pre-Freeze that allowed them to work together. -Alex and Carly: I would like to know more about Alex and how she felt growing up with her mom not really around too often. I can see it hardened her a bit, and with Wilford, it definitely made her cold at first, but I don't see that as much now. I also want to know who her birth father is. With Carly, I'd like to maybe see flashbacks to how her and her parents had lost her other siblings. Or even a flashback of life pre-Freeze vs when everyone was boarding Snowpiercer.
I'm sure there is more characters I could list but I will stop there. Hope that this was entertaining. Thanks again for the ask!
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xwing-baby · 4 years ago
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Impulse: Informant (Javier Peña x Reader)
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Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Peña as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?
Warnings: Nothing much! Flirting, mentions of voyeurism(?), drinking, hangovers. 
Word Count: 2.6k 
A/N: Bit more background this week, not that exciting but some fun moments with Javi and Steve. Alternative title: Meeting your killer and flirting with the boss ENJOY
<-- Previous Chapter  // MasterList //  Next Chapter -->
---
Two months passed quickly and you were settled in well. You were comfortable in your job; you, Javi and Steve made a great team and you were learning a lot from the both of them. You tried to avoid interacting with Carrillo directly where possible, he was still as icy about you as your first meeting. You met Steve’s wife, Connie, and became fast friends with her. She had become one of your closest friends, and a welcome break from the machismo that radiated from your two teammates.
You had even managed to make a few friends outside of work. You met María Parreño at the cafe you visited nearly everyday for lunch. What started out as a little wave, now was lunch together nearly everyday, and the occasional shopping trip at the weekend. María was a sweet girl, funny and very sly when she wanted to be. 
You were careful, giving a fake name and lying about your job. You could never be too careful in Colombia. Plus, with how rich her family were you wouldn’t be surprised if you crossed paths with one of them during your investigation into Escobar’s dealings. So, Maria knew you as Isabela Serrano, you worked in the American embassy on the phones. You had lived in the USA for ten years, hence the accent, and moved back to Medellin after your abuela died. María didn’t take much convincing. 
You enjoyed her company. It was a lot nicer to have a conversation about books you’d both been reading over nice food, than trying to eat over photos of blood crime scenes. Plus, the coffee here didn’t taste like soap. 
“Isabela, can I tell you something,” María turned to you, set her cutlery down and looked over at you seriously.. Puzzled, you put down your drink and smiled.
“Of course, you can tell me anything,” 
“Diego got a new job,” 
Diego was María’s boyfriend. Her father’s mechanic. A total cliché, her father had forbidden them to date but she did it anyway just to piss him off. You didn’t know much about Diego, you’d only met him once or twice in passing when he came to pick his girlfriend up  from a shopping trip. 
“You’re saying that like it's something scandalous,” You laughed nervously, “What? Has he become a stripper?”
“He’s working for Escobar,” She whispered. 
“What?” You nearly choked your coffee in shock. You set it down on the table carefully and leant in a little to listen to her, not believing what she said. It was not an impossible thing, lots of people worked for him in lots of different capacities. You hadn’t expected it so close to home.
“I know! That’s what I said!” She said, “He came home the other night saying he got this new job doing something for Pablo! I said Pablo who, I know lots of Pablo’s. The man just looked at me like I was an idiot! Pablo fucking Escobar!”
“What does he do?” You asked, you had to know how dangerous this could be for you. Or how helpful this could be, you thought. Being close to someone close to Escobar could be invaluable.
“Escobar?” Maria asked.
“No! What does Diego do for him?”
“I don’t know,” She shrugged, “He said something to do with cars,” You relaxed a little at that. Escobar’s mechanic was not a very useful lead. 
You glanced down at your watch and sighed. Your hour was up. Just as you had got to something useful! 
“Shoot I’m sorry María I’ve got to head back to work,” You drank down the last of your coffee quickly and stood up. “But you’ll keep me updated with this Escobar business right? It’s just all so exciting!” You put down your share of the bill on the table and threw on your jacket.
“Of course!” María smiled, “One of Diego’s friends is having a party! You should come!”
“I’ll be there,” You nodded, “Same time Saturday?”
“See you then!” 
Before you left the café you bought two coffees to go for Murphy and Pena as a way of apology for being late back. You had promised to be out less than an hour as Pena had important things he needed to go over with you and Murphy. By the time you got back, he had already started explaining the new information to Murphy in a conference room.
“Then we have-,” Javi was speaking as you walked in carrying coffee for the two men. You instantly recognised the face in the photograph and interrupted him.
“Diego Castillo,” You said. The two men turned to you, confused. Unfazed you passed them  the cups and sat down next to Murphy on the end of the table.
“How’d you know that?” Steve asked. 
“I know him. Or rather his girlfriend,” 
“What?” Steve nearly choked on his drink at your confession.  
“I didn’t think I had to tell y’all everything I do in my spare time,” You laughed.
“Hanging out with Narcos would have good to tell us,” 
“He’s not a Narco, he fixes Escobar’s cars! He’s not anyone important. It’s chill,” You waved him off. He was being ridiculous, ”Besides I’m friends with his girlfriend who has no idea what’s going on. I’ve met him maybe twice” You explained, “María’s a sweetheart, we talk about romance novels and go shopping!”
“Castillo doesn’t fix the cars. He runs the whole road operation,” Javier said. Your jaw dropped.
“Well shit,” 
“Anything else you wanna share?” Steve asked. 
“I don’t know but Monday I might,” You sipped on your coffee before continuing, “I got invited to a party, I was going anyway but-.”
“No, no you can’t go now we know who he is,” He exclaimed.
“This could be invaluable!”
“You’re not allowed to have an informant,” 
“It’s not an informant if I am the one with the info!” You argued.
“Javi? Gunna chime in at any point?” Steve turned to his partner, desperate for some help as you had already spiralled far enough on this idea. You turned to Javi with a determined look.
“They don't know my name, they don’t know where I work,” You explained rapidly, “I know what I am doing, just trust me, please?” 
“Fine,” Javier broke easily. The idea made sense.
“What the fuck! Javi she-,” 
“She’s right. Neither of us is going to ever get that close and she’s new here, people don’t know her and you said you gave them a fake name?” Pena explained, you nodded, “Technically she won’t be breaking any rules if she’s the one feeding us information directly,” 
“If anyone finds out-“ 
“No one will find out, it stays between us, in this room,” Javier said gravely, “I trust you Y/n,” 
You smiled and nodded, a sense of pride washing over you. Steve muttered and grumbled under his breath but he didn’t outwardly complain so the decision was made. You were going to feed information you found out through Maria to the DEA, going undercover. Nobody had ever mentioned no undercover work, the idea of sending a rookie into that kind of situation was insane, but you wouldn’t be technically breaking any rules. 
--
The party was a bust. There was nothing of interest apart from the attendee’s themselves. Everybody was civil, there was no talk of business- as explicitly called for by the hosts, and apart from one fight between two guys over a soccer match there really was nothing to report. You spent the evening with Maria and her friends, drinking and dancing. Having a good time. 
They were decent enough people if you ignored the way they all got their wealth. A little hard to relate too at times- you didn’t have a private jet or a house with a huge pool but Maria’s friends were surprisingly friendly and once the jokes about being a gringa were out the way they seemed to like you. 
There was no information but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a well worth evening. You had their trust now. That would be invaluable moving forward. 
--
It was payday. Everyone you worked with was going out for the evening to let loose. You were with a large group of people from the office. Some you recognised, some you didn’t but either way you were having a great time chatting to people. The alcohol was cheap, the music was great and the company was perfect. Nobody here complained that their dad wouldn’t let them import Italian handbags anymore or that their pool wasn’t big enough. You felt much more at home here, amongst peers and friends.
After a few hours of chatting to people, you retreated to a table with Javier and Steve. Eventually even Steve left, leaving just you and Javi alone. You were drunk, no other word for it. Your eyes were heavy, a grin plastered on your face and you swayed in your seat to the music listening to Javi talk. 
You rested your hand on your head and watched Javier for a moment. He looked very handsome, as he did nearly every day. He wore a blue jean jacket, his shirt was unbuttoned at the top showing off his tan skin. You watched as he smoked a cigarette, watching girls at the bar. A pang of jealousy hit your chest, you wondered if you weren’t sitting here as his rookie if you would catch his attention. Before you could think, you asked the question aloud. 
“If I was just a random girl in the bar, would you hit on me?” You asked, sipping your drink.
“I’m not answering that!” Javier laughed, “I know you,”
“I’m hot! Why wouldn’t you?” You exclaimed, “Hot girls not your type?”
“You’re not my type,” Javier corrected you. You gasped dramatically.
“I’m taking offence to that! Your type is anything that breathes,”
“You think so little of me,” He shook his head solemnly.
“Baby I’ve known you for months now. You don’t have a type!” 
“Baby?” Javi smirked at you. 
“Shut up I’m drunk,” You dismissed him. 
“Well what if I ask the same question to you?”
“Would I hit on me? Absolutely!” You exclaimed.
“No! Would you hit on me?” 
“Nah,” You shook your head and screwed up your nose.
“Liar!”
“Am not!”
“Come on don’t pretend like you wouldn’t,” He said, “You’d be all over me,” The energy shifted as he looked at you. Immediate eye contact, his dark eyes looked you over quickly drawing you into him. He leant forward slightly as he readjusted himself on the chair and brushed his bottom lip with his thumb drawing your attention to them. Your breath hitched, lips parted and your eyes flickered to his lips. Was he going to kiss you? Suddenly he broke the eye contact and laughed, settling back in his chair. “See! You would,”
Dazed you shook your head and cleared your throat. Javi smiled smugly.“No, No! That's not fair! You being smoother than fucking peanut butter doesn’t mean I would hit on you if I saw you! You’re old and grumpy looking, I like my men young and energetic,”
“So I heard,” He said as he tipped his drink into his mouth.
“Hey! That’s gross,” You exclaimed when you finally realised what he meant.
“Goes both ways, Baby, if you can hear me I can hear you,”
“So you listen to me fuck?” You countered. Javi choked on his drink.
“N-no I-,” Javi stuttered ands tumbled over his words, blushing slightly
“You do! Dirty bastard!” You exclaimed. “Do you get off to it?” You asked, quieter now leaning in closer to him. Javi didn’t reply, taking a gulp of beer and breaking your eye contact. You laughed again, “Javier Peña speechless! Wow! Pretty sure I can retire now and I’d be happy,”
“I’m getting another drink,” He grumbled, getting up from the table.
“Tequila please, Baby!” You called after him. 
You woke up with the worst hangover you had ever felt. Before you really opened your eyes you darted to the bathroom to throw up. You groaned into the toilet bowl, annoyed at yourself more than anything that you had gotten so drunk. You didn’t remember coming home, didn’t remember leaving the bar. The last thing you remembered was sitting with Javi drinking tequila like it was water. The memory made you gag again, how did he ever get you to drink tequila?
You padded into your tiny kitchen to get a glass of water, and start your usual fix all hangover cure. Salted chips and Coca Cola. The sugar and salt combination would do wonders and had saved you multiple times after a heavy night before training back home. You found a bag of chips in the cupboard but no cola. In fact, your fridge was practically empty, bar an old jar of salsa that you were pretty sure had been sitting there since before you arrived in Colombia. The idea of having to go out to the shop made you want to cry. You rested your head on the fridge door and groaned as another pulse shot through your skull. Then you had an idea, the Murphy’s would probably have some! 
You could tolerate seeing other humans at least for a few minutes. So you pulled a pair of shorts on and a vaguely clean t-shirt, took your keys and went across the hall to your favourite couple. The hallway was bright as sunlight streamed through the open window, you winced and shielded your eyes. You knocked twice on the door, the established knock for friends, and took deep breaths as you tried to not give into the need to throw up again. After a moment, Connie opened the door, a wide grin on her face when she saw your fragile state.
“Good night?” She teased you. You frowned and pouted at her.
“Remind me never to go out with Javi alone ever again,  I can’t remember leaving that bar,” You groaned. “Do you have any pain killers? And some cola,”
“Cola?”
“Yeah. Cola and salted chips, the best hangover cure. Got the chips but no cola and the idea of going outside today makes me want to off myself,”
“Come on in I’ll see what I’ve got. The boys are in there,” She let you into the apartment and disappeared into the kitchen. Javi and Steve sat on the couch watching TV in the living room, the noise made you wince.
“Afternoon Rookie,” Steve greeted you smugly. You grimaced and leant on the arm of the couch next to him.
“What's the score?” You asked, watching the soccer match on screen for a few moments. 
“3-3,” Steve answered.
“I’ve got Pepsi, that's okay?” Connie called from the kitchen. 
“Yeah! Anything’s fine,” You called back.
“Can’t you go buy yourself cola instead of stealing mine?” Steve complained.
“Your wife said I could have it Murphy, suck it up,” You shove his shoulder weakly, “Besides, I’m pretty sure if I step into direct sunlight I’ll burn to ash. I’m taking your cola and retreating to my bed,”
“What did you two even get up to after I left?” 
“Ask him, I cannot remember,” you laughed. 
Javi looked up briefly, took a drag of his cigarette and shrugged. He looked as rough as you felt. Neither of you had come out particularly well.
“Here you go sweetheart,” Connie returned to the living room with a bottle of Pepsi in her hand and a small box of painkillers.
“You’re a star Connie what would I do without you,” You stood up from the couch and took the items from your friend. “Later boys,”
“See ya Monday Rookie!” Steve called after you. 
Next Chapter -->
--
oop Rookie and Javi flirting?!? Could never. Also coming next week this ish is getting a whole lot angstier again. I can never keep things nice for long haha
Tagging:  @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @themidnightsun-12 @wille-zarr @danniburgh @itsaisopodkillmepls​ @urbankaite2​ @whataloadofmalarkey​ @ahsofka​​ @yeetus-my-feetus​ @sara-alonso​ @lesbianlena​ @xiao-lusi​ @all-good-things-have-an-ending​ @eternallyvenus​ @ajeff855 @mayangel19​ @1950schick​
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javier-pena · 4 years ago
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Since I got a few comments about this gifset I posted yesterday, I thought I’d share the true story about Javier Peña leaving his girlfriend at the altar. I’m using the read more break because it’s actually a longer story lmao.
In Season 1, Javi tells Steve that he used to be engaged but changed his mind on the day of the wedding. He left his girlfriend, and it’s later revealed that he knows it was wrong and feels sorry about it. Javi tells the story like this:
Javi: I was driving to the church. Was with my buddy, John. He was my best man. We were late. It was fucking blazing outside, 110 degrees. Whole bridal party was there sweating their balls off, I'm sure. And all of a sudden, I stopped the car.
Steve: Please don't tell me you left her at the altar.
Javi: I don't know if she actually made it to the altar.
Steve: Well, you saved her a lifetime of hell.
Javi: Yeah, she forgave me. Eventually. Married a stockbroker from Dallas.
Steve: Hm.
Javi: Randy... I think. Trust me, she's better off.
"There Will be A Future." Narcos, written by Dana Ledoux Miller, directed by Andrés Baiz, Gaumont International Television, 2015.
So far, so good. However, in the book Manhunters: How We Took Down Pablo Escobar, the real Javier Peña tells the story differently:
In fact, it was all because of a woman that I ended up at the DEA. I was all set to do the right thing and marry my girlfriend in Laredo back in 1982 when she told me she was pregnant. But on the day before our wedding when she called me and told me she had gotten her period, I packed my shit and left Laredo as fast as I could!
I clambered into my Chevy and took off at the crack of dawn like a fugitive, terrified that her brothers would come after me. I waited until I was nearly four hours out of town before I called her to break the news.
“You’re going to leave me?” she said, incredulous.
“Well actually, I already have,” I said.
She had manipulated me so well. She had even taken me to a clinic where a nurse told me she was pregnant.
After I left her waiting at the altar, I became persona non grata in Laredo, where her family was pretty well connected. My former fiancée’s friend was an administrator at Laredo Junior College, where I was still teaching in the criminal justice program. After the incident, he told me that I should resign and leave Laredo because I was no longer a good example for my students or the community as a whole.
I got the message and started to look for ways out.
Months later, I applied to the DEA.
Murphy, Steve, and Javier Peña. Manhunters. How We Took Down Pablo Escobar. London: Headline Publishing Group, 2019. p. 53f.
The show took a different path from real life events and gave Javi this kind of sad background story where he leaves his girlfriend at the altar but later regrets it. It’s also never mentioned if his girlfriend was pregnant or that she faked her pregnancy to get him to marry her. The story, as it’s told on the show, serves the narrative of Javi being kind of a womanizer. Of course, and this is also important, we only have Javier Peña’s word to tell us about what happened in real life, and often those one-sided accounts also aren’t 100% truthful.
In any case, I can really recommend the book because it’s full of little pieces of information like this and gives a bit more background about the real Steve Murphy and Javier Peña (e.g., the struggles Peña faced as a Latino man in the police service or how Murphy and his wife adopted children in Colombia). There is also another one, Killing Pablo by Mark Bowden, which I actually enjoyed more because it focuses on the whole story, from the history of the drug trade in Colombia to a very detailed account of the day Pablo Escobar was killed. (It also talks about Murphy having a doughnut and caffeine addiction and about Peña being a nerd with glasses).
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heartbreakvs · 2 years ago
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HE REMEMBERED  his first day in the office well. minutes too late, with a crooked up tie and a loose shirt, practically barging into the meeting and almost stumbling over a chair on the last step. not particular the best first impression ( not even a good one ) but one he wanted to give nevertheless. nervous, relatable and yet surprisingly charming. an over-worked agent with loads of hours and no vacation in sight ; a workaholic with a little to none existent private life. a failed marriage and no friends. a small and mysterious career abroad for the us government. a perfect addition to the bau team. 
until he had stepped into the building that morning and a passed security check behind him, javier couldn’t believe he’d actually pull this stunt. in fact, this was bigger than anything he has  e v e r  pulled. no robbery, faked marriage or heist could compare to this and javier felt excited. thrilled. he was used to intense preparations and was committed to his course. he had planned this for months, almost a year. all the people he had to bribe, the documents he had faked, and the actual training any fbi trainee had to endure. from academics, case exercises, firearms training to operational skills, javi mastered them. due to the security test and detailed background check, the man had decided to go with his actual name and family relations ( something else he has never done before ) as he figured, that any faked identity would have been unwise and too risky. after all, the fbi was no desperate and bored housewife ( who also collected pompous yachts for fun ) who couldn’t tell a faked id from a real one. he was practically playing the american government. a thin line, a dangerous one.
the adrenaline kept him going. javier couldn’t help it. once he was in, there was no turning back. it was an automatism and the addiction to the thrill. special agent javier morales sounded good. powerful. the man could get used to the sound.
and there he was ; exhausted from a long flight and even longer case. still the man couldn’t wrap his head around the photos all of them had to review. the team, of course, was used to such gruesome images. javier on the other hand, ... he’d love an eraser for these moments. nevertheless the dark haired man pulled himself back into reality ; sitting on the fine couch that belonged to spencer. with a small yawn he stretched both, arms and legs, facing his colleague and friend.
“ —  if i should doze off, don’t hesitate to wake me, alright ?” his arm rested casually on the backrest as he sat next to spencer. javier put a gentle smile on his lips — it’s been a few months already and he started to like the team. it became more than a thrill and especially spencer, with his many phds and doctor title, his rambling about any statistics and needless to say, with a heart made purely out of kindness, had grown on him. they’ve become a great team. a connection he truly treasured. “not a lot of people are good ... friends like you. seriously. i don’t think i’ve ever met someone as special as you.” genuine words from a dishonest man. and although javier chuckled lightly and brushed over his tired eyes, his words remained true. still, a bit flustered by his own sudden outburst of sympathy, the man made a waving hand gesture and shook his head. “don’t mind me. my brain is all over the place.”            ╱       STARTER FOR SPENCER  !
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shadow-assassin-blix · 3 years ago
Text
A Picture is a Poem without Words
Chapter 13
A/N: Canon typical violence. Some spice at the beginning but nothing too detailed. I rewatched ep 2x06 and realized that Marta’s husband is named Diego. For the purpose of this fic, and to create less confusion, I have called him Antony. Dress is number 10 found here.  Gif from @scntacruz 
Pacho tags: @yungkvte @mcrmarvelloki
Everything tag: @mikeisthricedeceased
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It had been 3 days since Blix had woken up. She had gone through her antibiotics and was now able to move a bit more freely.
The stitches were going to be removed today, and she couldn’t wait for it. The stitches were itching terribly.
When the doctor finally arrived, she was practically bouncing in her seat. It didn’t take him long to remove the stitches, with a small warning of ‘don’t do anything too strenuous.’
He left a moment later, and Blix spent a few minutes gently stretching. It was about 10am and Pacho had briefly left to go give his men some orders for the day. He came back in as Blix was about to stand up.
Pacho moved over to her, slowly. He stood before her, his hands cupping her face. He leaned down kissing her firmly and passionately.
She kissed him back with as much as enthusiasm. She started to lay back down onto the bed, her hands gripping his silk shirt tightly as she pulled him down. Pacho pressed his body against hers, and one hand moving down her body, while his other buried itself into her hair.
“I believe you mentioned something about spending the day between my legs?” Blix murmured against his lips.
“I did indeed. I plan on doing exactly that. Cleared my schedule and everything,” Pacho joked lightly as he moved down to press kisses to her neck, nipping here and there.
Blix giggled lightly at that, a moan escaping her mouth as he bit a particularly sensitive area.
He paid intense attention to that spot, as his hand slipped under her cotton shorts. His hand slid past her panties, his fingers running up and down her slit.
She moaned lightly at his teasing, her hips jerking up wanting more. They removed their clothes with some urgency, the both of them sliding under the covers.
The two of them spent most of the day either chasing their highs or simply lying next to one another, enjoying each other’s company.
The next day rolled around and the two of them finally untangled themselves from each other. They showered and dressed, before heading downstairs.
Gilberto & Miguel were downstairs waiting for them discussing next steps.
“Ah. Blix, lovely to see you moving about more freely. I hope you are feeling better?” Gilberto greeted her cheerfully.
“Yes, much better. What are our plans?” Blix asked them as they walked into the dining room to have breakfast.
The four of them sat down to eat and talk. As Blix made her plate, Diego appeared next to her, and after quickly kissing her head, he sat down next to her.  Blix smiled softly at him, telling him good morning.
Gilberto began to explain his thoughts to Pacho about next steps, as Blix checked her phone for missed calls. Upon seeing there was nothing there, she placed it on the table and listened to Gilberto.
“… Mrs. Moncada has reached out to Don Berna. I suspect she is attempting to make as many allies as possible to hurt Escobar. We will let her do whatever she pleases. Our priorities will be taking over his production lines and starve him of money,” Gilberto informed them.
“Where do we begin with that?” Blix asked him curiously.
“We’ve already begun. We are taking out his production sites, starting with the ones Mrs. Moncada informed us about to the ones Escobar doesn’t think we know about,” Miguel spoke up.
She nodded her head in understanding, glancing down at her phone when she saw it was going off. She answered it, standing up and strolling into the living room.
“Hey Javi, what’s up?” She greeted.
“We have a new colonel. Martinez. And the ambassador has insisted that DEA have an overseer. Messina. The ambassador is not too happy with any of the agencies currently. I would suspect he will be reaching out to you soon to bitch at you, just so you’re aware,” Javier warned her.
“Good to know.  What’s Martinez like?” She asked him.
“An ass. Extremely by the book. I have never felt more frustrated with Search Bloc. Hell, I’ve never felt more frustrated in general. I… hmm. I have a terrible idea that may bite me in the ass later but… if it means Escobar goes down,” Javier said in an exasperated tone.
“What do you have planned Javi? Please don’t do anything stupid,” Blix begged him softly.
She knew from experience that Javier would have half-assed plans that usually ended up with him being in all sorts of trouble.
“I’m going to reach out to some CIs and go from there. That’s all you need to know. I’m not going to risk your career by telling you too much,” Javier’s voice lowered as he spoke.
“Javi…” Her tone turned admonishing.
“Anyway, when you find yourself back over in Bogota let me know. We can go on that date,” Javier stated somewhat loudly.
“Do not use me as your cover,” Blix growled at him, hearing chatter in the background.
“Yeah, see ya soon sweetie,” He ignored what she said and hung up.
“That motherfu-” She groaned staring down at her phone.
Blix sighed heavily, as she pocketed her phone, and running a hand down her face in frustration.
She returned to the dining room, re-taking her seat. The brothers had continued to talk out their plans with Pacho and she half listened to them. Blix was far too distracted to fully pay attention.
Halfway through one of Gilberto’s explanations his phone rang, and he answered it excitedly.
“Good morning Marta, light of my life. What can I do for you?” Gilberto greeted.
He listened to her for a moment, before passing the phone to Blix.
“She apparently wants to speak to you,” He stated as he held it to her.
Blix took the phone, “Hello Marta. What’s up?”
“Hi. I need help. We moved up the wedding and I am freaking out over what to do. My mothers are driving me nuts and I cannot stand their opinions no more. Please help,” Marta sounded close to tears as she spoke.
“Okay. Tell me where you are and I’ll be there,” Blix said calmly as she stood up again.
“I’m at my father’s favorite home, thank you so much,” Marta vaguely explained, hanging up.
“Uhh. Okay. Gilberto? Which of your 10 mansions do you consider your favorite?” Blix asked him as she placed his phone on the table.
“Navegante will take you. I assume it has to do with her wedding plans?” Gilberto waited for her nod. “I assumed so. She has been panicking over the plans for the past week.”
“Vagueness runs in the family I see. ‘Kay. Just gonna go grab my bag I guess… as I’m led to an unspecified location. Not like that ever turns out terribly for anyone in a horror movie,” Blix mumbled as she made her way upstairs to grab her bag and some shoes.
Blix, after grabbing her things, stepped outside and got into the waiting vehicle that held Navegante and Maurice.
It took about an hour and a half for them to get there. Blix stared up at the house with an eyebrow raised as she took in the grand home.
“This man…is ridiculous…” Blix said quietly, shaking her head.
Blix strolled up to the front door, smiling at Marta who was waiting for her.
“Alright. What’s wrong?” Blix asked her as they stepped in.
“So, a great deal of it is taken care of, but so many small details need to be taken care of,” Marta began leading her to the backyard porch, to a table that was covered in books and samples.
The two of them tackled each item: place settings, decorations, dresses, accessories and the like. The entire process took about 4 hours to get everything decided and ordered.
“Now, what else do we need to do?” Blix questioned her as they finished up.
“Well. I was hoping… would you be willing to sing our first dance song?” Marta quietly requested.
“You want me to sing… for your wedding?” Blix clarified, staring at her surprised.
“Yeah.  I love the way you sing. Plus, I’m sure Pacho would love to hear you sing as well,” Marta teased lightly.
Blix shook her head at that, before replying, “I’ll sing one song. That’s it.”
Marta squealed happily and hugged her, yelling, “Thankyou!Thankyou!”
Later that week, while at Pacho’s place, the news reported the first murder committed by Los Pepes.
Blix quietly listened to the news report, glancing at the men around her who appeared unbothered by the grisly murder.
Blix slipped outside, as she called Javier. However, there was no answer, which said to her that he knew she’d be upset with what had happened and was avoiding her.
Over the next several weeks, Los Pepes became embolden and were murdering Escobar’s men left and right.
Gilberto drew the line when the latest macabre display took place at a Christmas light show, where small children saw the scene.
Gilberto attempted to reach out to Judy Moncada to talk to her and Don Berna about the murders. To tell them to tone them down.
Unfortunately, they no longer cared about the Cali Cartel; they were focused on exacting their bloody revenge on Escobar.
Blix spent most of that time helping Marta with wedding plans and getting the venue ready. The wedding was this weekend, and time was of the essence.
Marta insisted that everyone get their hair and nails done the morning of the wedding. Pacho, who was not expecting guests at 6am, stared at the bride to be with some confusion when she appeared in the doorway of his bedroom.
“Hello uncle! Can you please make sure Blix is up and downstairs in 15mins? We have a busy day today!” Marta said cheerfully.
Pacho raised an eyebrow at her, before glancing down at Blix who was buried in his blankets and pillows, Diego laying half on top of her.
“Was she aware of these plans beforehand?” Pacho inquired as he looked back at Marta.
Marta gave him a toothy smile, before disappearing.
“That’s a no,” Pacho answered to himself.
“My love? My beautiful shark? You have to wake up,” He gently spoke, kissing her shoulder.
“….why? wedding not until tonight?” Blix grumbled, shaking her head.
“I know but… Marta made plans apparently… and she’s downstairs waiting for you,” Pacho informed her, pulling the pillow she tried to hide under away from her.
Blix lifted her head up, eyes blearily staring at him.
“What do you think would happen if I said no?” Blix asked him, turning her gaze to the doorway.
“Marta would be upset, and cry which would then upset Gilberto and he would make you go through with it anyway using threats,” Pacho answered.
“… so my chances are good?” Blix questioned jokingly.
Pacho chuckled, “Get up. It won’t be that terrible. I’ll see you later on.”
Blix quietly crawled out from under Diego, who had flopped onto her back at some point during the night. Blix learned very quickly that Diego was the kind of person who very rarely slept in one spot all throughout the night and very much like to spread out and take as much of the bed possible.
Blix, who was crawling over Pacho to get out bed, mumbled, “This better not be terrible, or you are making this up to me.”
“I had already planned on it. I look forward to seeing you in the dress Marta picked for you. She says it’s quite… salacious,” Pacho teased her, kissing her on the cheek.
Blix simply rolled her eyes and changed out of her night clothes into some shorts and a tank top, with some flipflops. She wasn’t going to get overly dressed up for a day of hair and makeup. She stepped into the bathroom, brushing her hair and teeth. As she walked downstairs, she clipped on her shark necklace.
Marta smiled at her and said, “Good morning! We are going to have a wonderful morning and then tonight is going to be amazing!”
Blix smiled softly at her, still trying to wake up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
The next several hours were a whirlwind of hair, nails, and makeup. By the time, they were ready to put on the dresses, it was late in afternoon/almost evening and Blix was exhausted. They had arrived at the venue and were doing last minute preparations.
Blix had finally put on the dress that Marta insisted she wear, with red pumps to match. She stared at bejeweled bodice of it that had a nude material backing it to give it some modesty. The dress itself was made to fit her like a glove, so even without proper shoulder straps it was able to stay in place.
Her hair had been done up in a high bun, her makeup as bold as the dress.
“Marta, I thought all eyes were supposed to be on you? Not on me looking like I stepped out of a romance novel?,” Blix lightly joked.
“Ahh. The beauty of it is though… if all eyes are on you no one will pay attention if me and Antony slipped away for some alone time,” Marta whispered conspiratorially.
Blix chuckled at that, “I see. I’m the distraction.”
Marta nodded, causing the two of them to giggle some more. Marta turned and looked at herself in the mirror in her wedding gown, nervously running her hands over the material.
“What’s up?” Blix asked her, standing beside her.
“The wedding jitters everyone warned me about. I always thought I wouldn’t get them, because I love Antony so much. But I am feeling them now,” Marta responded, trying to take a deep breath.
“I’d say that’s pretty normal. This is a big step in your life. It’s not an easy one to take. No one would blame you if you decided to postpone. That boy worships the ground you walk on, and if you said you wanted to wait, he would do it. So, tell me. Do you want to wait, or do you want to go marry the man you love?” Blix posed the question to her, smile on her face.
Marta took a moment to calm herself before smiling and nodding at the mirror, “I don’t want to wait.”
“Alright then, I’m going to go take me seat. I’ll see you out there honey,” Blix stated as she stepped out into the hallway.
Gilberto stood nearby, waiting to walk her down the aisle.
“Hey, give her a minute. The wedding jitters have hit her. She may need some words of encouragement too,” Blix said to him, stopping in front of him.
“Ahh. I had a feeling they would hit her soon enough. I’ll go check on her,” Gilberto replied with a knowing smile. “Blix. If I may say so, you look beautiful. I get the feeling you are going to knock Pacho off his feet.”
Blix smiled, feeling her cheeks warm up as she made her way into the main hall. Her seat was next to Pacho near the front. She made her way down the aisle, spotting Pacho with Miguel and Antony.
Miguel was the first to notice her, and nudged Pacho on the arm, motioning to look her way. Pacho turned to look at her and stared at her in awe.
“Hi. We should probably take our seats, it should be starting soon,” Blix noted, as she got near them.
Pacho quietly led her to their seats, his eyes roving up and down her figure. He eventually leaned over, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“You look like a goddess in this dress. I cannot wait to see what it looks like on the floor as I worship you tonight,” Pacho whispered into her ear. “Who knows? I may not even wait till then.”
Blix cleared her throat softly, turning to meet his gaze. She gently gave him a kiss on the lips and whispered for him to behave.
He smirked at that, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, keeping her close to him.
The ceremony began 15 minutes later and lasted for about an hour. Pacho noticed during the ceremony, that Blix was not one who cried easily; many got teary eyed during the vows. He noted at one point that she had looked down at her own left hand, her gaze blank. He desperately wanted to know what was running through her mind, but knew he wasn���t going to get an answer anytime soon.
He reached over and held her hand in his, while the ceremony continued.
When it was over, they all headed to the reception to celebrate.
Miguel was the last family member to give a speech. Pacho looked around trying to find Blix, who had disappeared a few minutes after they had arrived.
“Good evening everyone,” Came her voice on the microphone. “For those of you who don’t know, my name is Blix. I am a friend of Marta’s.”
Everyone turned their attention to her, as she stood on the dance floor directly in front of the bridal party.
“A few weeks ago, Marta asked me a very important question. She asked me if I could sing the first song of the night. I agreed on the condition that I got to choose the song. She was a bit… hesitant to say the least. In fact, I had to bargain with her… a trait I am most definitely positive she got from you Gilberto,” Blix joked.
Several people chuckled, as Gilberto stared at his daughter with pride, pressing a kiss to her head.
“Per her request, she got to choose what I am wearing, hence why I look I belong in a telenovela or a romance novel,” She gestured to her dress with a wave of her hand. “And I get to choose the song to start our evening.”
Blix looked back toward the band who gave her a thumbs up to say they were ready to go. Antony, who knew what the song was going to be, led Marta to the dancefloor. Blix took up a spot in front of the band, looking at the couple with a smile.
“This is going to be a cover version of an oldie,” She hinted, softly clearing her throat.
The music began, and everyone stared at her curiously trying to figure out the song before she started to sing. Antony and Marta began to sway softly to the music, Marta was tearing up slightly as she recognized the song. It was one of her favorite songs
As Blix sang, her gaze moving about the crowd. Her eyes eventually locked onto Pacho’s who was smiling softly at her. She sang a couple of lines, keeping her eyes on his, subtly singing to him.
She broke her gaze away once she got closer to the end, moving it back to Marta and Antony. When the song ended, the crowd clapped and cheered. Marta after hugging Antony, strolled over to Blix to throw her arms around her in a huge hug. Blix hugged her back.
Blix handed the microphone to one of the band members who took over and began to play the playlist that Marta gave them.
Blix after giving her congratulations to the happy couple, made her way over to Pacho. She collapsed not in the empty chair next to him, but onto his lap.
“I am exhausted,” She said with a small yawn.
“Don’t fall asleep just yet… we still have to get through at least another hour before we can slip away unnoticed,” Pacho informed her.
Blix quietly nodded, before the two of them got up to get food and mingle. The party was in full swing, and she was standing near the brothers listening to them as they told stories about Marta. Blix noticed out of the corner of her eye, that Marta and Antony had slipped outside.
She smirked, turning to look over at the wedding cake. Blix tilted her head as she looked at it. Something about it wasn’t right, she just couldn’t put her fingers on it. She shook her head, thinking she was being paranoid.
If only she had listened to the paranoia.
One moment she was talking to Gilberto, the next all she could hear was a sharp ringing. She was aware of something on her legs, pinning them down, and several screams and shouts. Blix opened her eyes trying to focus on something, anything. Her vision was blurry, all she could see was disfigured shapes and splashes of colors.
A voice was calling her name, growing louder as it moved closer. The weight on her legs disappeared as a face came into view. It took several blinks for her vision to clear, and she was able to see Pacho’s face staring down at her.
“I’m starting to think someone out there wants me dead,” Blix mumbled as Pacho helped her sit up.
Pacho chuckled weakly at that, whispering, “You’re okay.”
The two of them slowly stood up, looking over each other, inspecting the damage. Blix could see several bruises on his face, and blood coming out his ear. He grasped his left arm, that she assumed he had landed on.
Pacho, looking her over, could see some blood coming from her nose, with various bruises on her body. He noticed she was favoring her left leg, probably due to the dead body that had landed on her right.
The two of them looked around, as Miguel made his way over to them, holding his shoulder. The three of them found Gilberto, and after making sure Marta and his family was okay, sent everyone home or to the hospital. The 4 of them somehow made it to one of Gilberto’s home, each of them covered in soot with some sort of injury.
The four of them made it into his office where Gilberto collapsed into a chair and stared off into space. Pacho lit a cigarette and Miguel stood there with his arms crossed.
Blix had one of the guards grab a first aid kit so she can fix everyone’s injuries. She set the kit on the coffee table, before going over to Gilberto’s glasses and decanter of whiskey. Her hand trembled for a moment, and she shook it thinking that would steady it before grabbing the decanter and pouring everyone a drink.
Blix passed them out once they were all poured out, and Miguel nodded his head in appreciation. Gilberto took the drink, blinking slowly.
Pacho took the drink after taking a drag of his cigarette. Blix took her place next to Pacho, leaning against a chair.
“That man… has no decency,” Gilberto began, standing up. “To attack my family like this… my daughter on the night of her wedding. Only a madman would do that. A crazed animal, dangerous.”
A moment passed, as Gilberto began to shake with fury.
“I want him dead. Not next year. Right now. Kill all of them. I don’t just want you to kill his lawyers, accountants, and bankers… I want you to kill his secretaries, anyone who lifted a finger to help that man. I want to see them dead,” Gilberto’s once calm voice began to shout. “ANYONE WHO HAS EVER LICKED A POSTAGE STAMP AND PUT IT ON AN ENVELOPE IN HIS NAME, I WANT TO SEE THEM DEAD! AND THEN I WANT YOU TO FIND ANYONE WHO EVER SHOOK HIS HAND AND KILL THEM TOO!”
Miguel during his tirade, placed his hand on his shoulder, nodding his head quietly.
Pacho paced slightly, fury on his face as he took another drag of his cigarette.
“That son of a bitch. From this night, we’ll show no mercy,” Gilberto declared with a shaky breath.
Blix looked at the 3 of them, knowing there was nothing she could say in this moment that could help them. There was something she could do however as she quietly guided each of them to a chair. Grabbing the first aid kit, she began to tend to their injuries softly. All 3 tried to wave her off, but a firm look from her made them back down.
“Can’t rage war against Escobar, if you let your injuries go untreated,” Blix murmured to Gilberto as she looked over his wounds.
Gilberto sighed heavily and allowed her to tend to him, along with Miguel. Pacho didn’t complain, having learned his lesson from the last time he had been injured.
Once all 3 were patched up, Pacho turned the tables on her and insisted that she let him look over her injuries. She let him tend to her minor injuries with a small sigh.
A few minutes later, her and Pacho were stepping out of the office. Diego greeted them; his face full of concern as his gaze roamed over the both of them.
“We’re fine. Could’ve been worse to be honest,” Blix assured him as the 3 of them walked out to a car, to drive home.
After the both of them took a shower, and changed into cleaned clothes, Pacho went to bed, Diego trailing behind him. Blix sat in the living room, not ready to go to bed just yet.
It was late in the night, and Blix couldn’t sleep. She stared at the proposal that Gilberto had drawn up and given to her the day before to give to the ambassador. With a heavy sigh, she called him not caring that she will probably be waking him up.
“Ambassador… I need to talk to you… and the CIA. The Cali cartel want to make a deal,” Blix began.
The next morning, in the early hours, she had flown out to Medellin, proposal in hand. The trip to the embassy didn’t take long, but it sure felt like time was moving slowly.
Blix stepped into the ambassador’s office, her face blank as she took a seat next to Stechner. She was grateful to have thought about putting on makeup this morning to hide her bruises, to lessen questions.
“So. Cali wants to create a bargain, eh? Is that what you’ve been doing with your free time Agent Lage? Hanging around cartel members?” Stechner said in a mocking tone.
Blix ignored him, as she pulled out the documents that Gilberto and the other Gentlemen had signed, setting it on the ambassador’s desk.
“Listen. I am well aware that no one here is innocent when it pertains to the Cali. I would know, since Gilberto informed me that the both of you are on his payroll. This meeting was bound to happen soon enough, so cut the crap. Let’s get this show on the road,” Blix spoke calmly.
“So, Gilberto wants free reign for 6 months after the death or capture of Escobar, and all 4 are willing to turn themselves in?” Ambassador Crosby asked in clarification after spending some time reading it over.
“Yes. All four of them have agreed to turn themselves in 6 months after Escobar’s death, or capture, without interference from law enforcement. No interruptions to production lines or sales. They spend 6 months making themselves rich, and then they’ll gladly let us arrest them,” Blix explained further.
“What about your bestie? Pena? Don’t think he’ll be too happy to know you made this deal for them. What are you going to about that?” Stechner questioned looking at her.
“Currently? I don’t care. He’s not focused on Cali. When that time comes, I’ll tell him the same thing I am telling you. It’s one less cartel. Who cares how it’s done?” Blix nonchalant answer disguised her worry.
She knew one day she would have to face Javier about her decisions, but it was not going to be anytime soon. She would deal with it when the time came.
Stechner stared at her somewhat impressed, “Living in Cali definitely made you more cutthroat. If you ever think about switching agencies let me know.”
Blix rolled her eyes at that, and watched as the ambassador approved the proposal, making a phone call to the president of Colombia. A few minutes later and the signed document was being filed away, signed by all in the room.
Blix stood up preparing to leave, when the ambassador stopped her, “Agent Lage, the annual Christmas party is tonight. You should come.”
Blix nodded once, making her way out into the hallway. Stechner sauntered outside beside her, his hands in his pockets.
“So, tell me… How is Mr. Herrera? I’ve noticed you no longer have been living in that lovely little townhouse of yours. However, I guess it is hard to stay there after Escobar’s men destroyed your door,” Stechner commented as the two of them walked toward the elevator.
“I’m not dignifying that with an answer,” Blix replied, shaking her head.
The two of them stepped onto the elevator, Blix not sparing him a glance.
“Not sure what happened recently for you to come forward about this deal suddenly… however… I hope you are prepared for the potential fallout if anyone else finds out about your relationship with him,” Stechner warned her.
Blix continued to ignore him, walking forward once the elevator doors opened. Blix was well aware of the consequences; she currently did not care about them.
Blix checked in with her team.
“What’s happening guys?” Blix asked them as she stepped into the office.
Theo, Cynthia, and Robbie all looked up from their desks, before grabbing files, holding them out to her.
Blix took all of the files, with a short laugh. They filled her in on current assignments they were working to help DEA. Cynthia & Robbie traded off on who monitored the airports. Theo listened to chatter and translated phone calls. She took a seat, going through each file and approving them when she was satisfied with the work. The work took about 2 hours before she sent off the files to various other departments to be filed.
Once she got caught up on paperwork, she left the embassy. She was not in the mood to go to another party, so she hopped on a plane back to Cali.
Returning home, she smiled softly at Pacho who was on the phone giving out orders. He finished up his call as he spotted her walking toward him.
He leaned down, kissing her softly.
“So… I was thinking you and me could go out for dinner this evening?” Pacho suggested as he straightened up.
“I like the sound of that. What are our plans to deal with Medellin?” Blix inquired as the two of them strode over to his corvette.
“I’ll tell you later this evening,” Pacho answered her, driving her into the city.
While the two of them ate, Los Pepes with the new knowledge being fed to them from Cali, attacked the Medellin cartel hard. Pacho eventually informed her of what was going to go down, and she had a feeling that this war was going to get bloody on both sides.
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