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gothsuguru · 1 day ago

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PLEASENENEND ILYSM FRIEND AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING ALL MY WORK OMFG IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME AND I APPRECIATE IT SM 🙂‍↕️🩷

black is the color of my true love’s hair

synopsis: your devotion to suguru is second to none — you would do anything for your beloved! bonded by true love, loyalty, & utter admiration, these are a few moments where suguru has been unbelievably thankful for you & smitten by your acts of love & service! ♡

contents: f!reader, no curses au, reader is short/blushes/has hair that can be ran through with fingers! slightly suggestive, cursing, mentions of depression/anxiety/self-destructive behaviors. but i promise this is a soft, fluffy fic! it’ll make sense when you read it! dividers are from @saradika! w.c: ~ 11.5k

a/n: (happy) belated birthday fic for my beloved husband! <3 the title of the fic is a lyric from “black is the colour” by celtic woman, it’s a very loving & devotional song so i wanted to do a story based on those themes! p.s. this is my first time ever writing an actual fic & it got a bit long because i got carried away, but i hope you enjoy! happy valentine’s day! <3 MWAH!

it’s a simple action, really.

you tilt your head slightly to the right and lift your face up to gaze adoringly at him through your lashes, a mirthful twinkle dancing in your eyes. a soft smirk coupled with a light blush adorns your angelic features, a precious look, which suguru has come to be utterly enchanted by due to the loving action that follows immediately after.

you catch him off guard the first time you do it.

the first time you kiss suguru’s knuckles, he falters.

it’s the way that you do it. naturally & effortlessly, as if it’s like second nature, that causes suguru to stop in his tracks and dedicate all of his attention to you.

his mesmerizing gaze is directed at you, molten gold eyes inquisitive. irrevocably fond.

he attentively watches as you softly grab his large warm hand in your small cold one. his hands are slightly rough yet supple due to his religious use of the honey-almond handcream you bought him earlier in the week.

he notices, rather than intertwining your fingers with his own and holding them, you smoothly bring his hand up to your face, wrapping your digits loosely around the perimeter of his long slender fingers.

your thumb gingerly caresses his ring finger (the one that holds a devout vow of eternal love), your featherlight touch raising wonderful shivers across his body. with the utmost care, you delicately — as if he’s made out of precious china, brush your supple glossed lips against his fingers, relishing in the coolness of his promise ring that encases both his aquamarine birthstone & your own.

your low-lidded enamored eyes never leave his affectionately curious ones — both of you preciously holding the other ones gaze, eyes locked in a staring contest of love.

utterly content with his undivided attention, you gently press a soft kiss to his knuckles.

a sign of affection.

an act, a promise, of complete & utter devotion.

his pierced eyebrow raises slightly due to the suaveness of your actions. he tries to gather his bearings, his brain fuzzy with your actions — did you actually just do that?

suguru’s amber eyes widen significantly, soft black eyelashes fluttering like raven wings against the tan of his cheek that’s blushed with a hue of raspberry red. mouth slightly ajar in surprise, his silver lip ring glints like starlight in the sunset daze of the evening, while his pierced tongue is pressed against his own cheek to stop himself from becoming a bumbling, stuttering mess.

if he speaks — he wholeheartedly believes all that’ll tumble out of his lips will be unabashedly fervent divulgances of: “i love you. i love you. i love you.”

adoration blooms out of his ribcage like a meadow of daffodils, sweetness enveloping around his heart, soft ivory petals and sage green tendrils wrapping themselves delicately over his bones. he reckons that if you couldn’t hear his heartbeat hammering out of his chest before, you definitely can now.

it’s almost as if his brain is in clouds of cotton candy, his mind in a sweet haze of shock, love, & affection when he finds himself whispering airily, “why’d you do that?”

tenderly stroking away silky strands of ink-black hair that wisp around his ethereal face, the fond smile you grace him with is saccharine sweet, “i felt like it.”

unbelievably charmed, he can’t help the giggle that spills its way out through his mouth like honey, a syrupy-sweet sounding little thing. his shaky fingers cover his rosy lips slightly as he laughs bashfully. he’s a bit shy because of it, but you don’t think a sound has ever been so melodious to your ears. you’d get down on one knee to kiss his knuckles reverently as many times as he wants just to hear his laughter over and over and over again.

the way you see it, it’s as if you were put on this earth to devote yourself to him.

like a loyal knight kisses the ring on the hand of their king with the utmost veneration, you’d do the same. without question, worshipping the ground whereupon he stands like a faithful follower would do to a cult leader. you figure in all of the other multiverses, you’re ultimately doing the same thing as what you’re doing in this one: loving him — devoutly. earnestly. passionately.

if the look of ardent rapture on your face is anything to go by, suguru might faint with the rush of pure love & endearment that flows like nectar throughout his veins.

he feels his blush bloom over his warm face which rushes towards the tips of his pierced ears, a clear sign of you flustering him.

wanting to gain back some semblance of control of the situation, he puts on a poker face, a gentleness in his eyes & a fondness in his smile still shining through. his black-nail polished thumb grazes your soft wind-chilled cheek. a beacon of warmth. a caress of admiration accompanied with a well-maintained façade of smoothness. a comforting touch for the both of you.

“well, aren’t you just so sweet.” suguru can’t help the coo that escapes his cherry red lips when you look up at him with your precious doe eyes, “my pretty little baby.”

he softly pinches your cheek, admiring the soft plush. he cradles your cheek with the same hand, & carefully smoothes down your hair that’s been strewn around a bit by the evening wind with the other. suguru pats your head in a nurturing manner in the process, another fond coo escaping him when he sees you preen at the attention he gives you, affectionately watching you revel in the flattering treatment.

your eyes widen with joy, always keening with any praise he showers you with. “i’d like to think so! now come on sugu, your pretty little baby has a lil surprise for you!” you playfully wink at him, your smile beaming like sunshine.

your warm eyes map his stunning features reverently, memorizing his elegant visage. drinking in his otherworldly beauty, as if you could never get enough.

while you openly admire him, suguru does the same to you. he doesn’t think that he’s ever been this enamored by a human being before. you’re the center of his universe, and he can’t imagine his life without you. all he can see in this moment is: you. his intense gaze holds yours as he captures both of your cheeks in his warm gentle hands, enveloping himself in your space. the perfume he bought you for your birthday invades his senses, clouding his mind in a welcomed haze.

all he can think of at the moment is: you. you. you.

all he can repeat in his mind is: mine. mine. mine.

his eyes gleam with a newfound sense of desire, wanting to show you exactly what you mean to him. what you do to him.

golden eyes turned onyx, dilated with desire, flit to your mouth. his thumb outlines your pretty lips that are begging to be devoured by his own, his right hand moving to cradle the back of your head, tilting your face up so he can comfortably take control. long, slender fingers splay across your hair, bringing you closer to him, slightly tugging the strands to hear and feel you gasp against his mouth. he presses his left hand against the small of your back, coaxing you further into his body, fusing you both together. not wanting to be even a millimeter apart. he just can’t get enough of you.

it’s like a magnetic gravitational pull when he presses a soft, sensual kiss against your glossy lips. the cold metal ball in his pierced tongue explores the wet cavern of your mouth, and he can’t help but moan softly into you, relishing in your warmth.

he prays to the stars above, hoping that he can convey his sincere love, desire, & admiration for you like this. he breathes life into you and you do the same to him. kissing you with such vigor & passion, he feels like melding your lips & souls together wouldn’t be enough.

suguru burns with a hunger to become one with you.

he pleads to the universe that the intensity of his desire and yearning is relayed to you — that you crave it, crave him as much as he craves you.

with the way he’s ravenously kissing you, and how you’re excitedly kissing him back, it seems like you certainly received the message.

suguru thinks it’s a little bit funny, but very much endearing, when you run around the living room like a bumbling fawn.

you zig-zag around the counter, making sure you pick up the purse that suguru got for you on your previous anniversary, an acrylic charm of your favorite actor clinking against the metal fastenings. (another gift that suguru got you, begrudgingly he might admit, because who the hell is that toji fushiguro guy anyways…)

you double check that all the contents you need are inside: phone, charger, lip gloss, mini perfume, credit cards — AH! you run back to your room like a panther, not wanting to forget the most important thing you need for tonight!

he can’t help himself but laugh at your frazzled antics. “babe, you can calm down! we’re going on a picnic, it’s almost impossible for us to be late!” suguru admires your punctuality, he thinks it’s sweet how you never want to keep him waiting.

“FORGOT SOMETHING, I ALMOST DIED.” you rush back to him, a big goofy smile on your face.

“baby… you’re heaving.” suguru covers his mouth, trying not to giggle out loud at how out of breath you are just by running a few feet. you’re so fucking cute.

“damn…” you huff out, hands on your knees, trying to get a deep breath in. “don’t call me out like that.”

he can’t help the laugh that bellows out of him, “sorry angel, now let’s go!” he places his large hands against your back, ushering you out the door quickly, “you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

walking you towards his black mercedes, he opens the passenger side for you. with both hands on your hips, you remind him that, “it’s a SURPISE!”

after around 45 minutes of both of you jamming out to your playlist in the car, poking his cheek while childishly asking “are we there yet?” just to annoy him for fun, and ultimately being a proper passenger princess who tells him to “just trust me!” when he asks where you two are going, you both arrive to your destination.

and the sight that he sees, enthralls him. he whistles, beguiled by the view. from here, he can see how pretty and bright the stars are, it almost looks like they’re twinkling a “hello!” at the both of you. suguru thinks to himself, a picnic here at night? he’s unbelievably mesmerized at how your brain works sometimes.

he turns to face you, watching how engrossed you are in your phone, tapping away incessantly. wanting your full attention, his fingers grab your chin gently to force you to look him. he jokingly purrs, “if you took me here to kill me, i’ll have you know… sitting on my face would be much easier. much more preferred.”

you raise your eyebrow questioningly.

“because… it’s dark and we’re in random clearing.”

you stare at him blankly. “okay, you’ve hung out with me waaaay too much because i literally said that pick-up line to you last week and now you’re blatantly stealing it… like a THIEF. and also? you drove us here. who the hell is gonna drive me back if you’re dead?”

his brows furrow and he pouts, annoyed that you didn’t fall into his arms and blush because of his (your) raunchy words. he turns away from you and opens his door to leave, brattily huffing out a, “hmph. shut up, dumbass.” with his head held up high in the air, he struts away pompously to the trunk, opening and closing it loudly. a picnic basket with food you both made together in one hand, and a soft quilt of constellations made by haibara & nanami for suguru’s previous birthday in the other.

how fitting.

you loudly snicker to yourself while getting out of the car, amused by your boyfriend’s spoiled antics. while suguru is front of you admiring the view and trying to find a spot to set up, you admire the view in front of you. whistling out a, “damn…” suguru scoffs at your flirty behavior and gives you the finger. you send an air kiss back, and he playfully swats it away.

when he turns away again, you smile to yourself dreamily. taking out your phone, you click a quick candid of him against the night sky, admiring at how he almost resembles a painting.

the cream of his sweater and the contrast of his cascading ink-black hair entrances you, the silver hairpin you got him during a couple’s trip to kyoto in the top of his bun. the dangling deep violet amethyst gem glints in the moonlight, making him look even prettier. he turns his head to the left, eyebrow piercing and his lip piercing no longer in your peripheral, rather you see his eyebrow slit — a scar which you’ve softly traced over many times. his side profile allures you effortlessly, the angular bridge of his nose and the soft cupid’s bow of his lip offering up a beautiful contrast that is suguru: graceful yet strong.

shaking your head slightly, you break out of your trance.

you go back to the task at hand, opening your notes app and ticking off the word at the top of your list.

stargazing. ✔️

you remember suguru mentioned it in passing one day when you were both in the blossoming stage of your relationship. it was on his date bucket-list ever since he could remember, and of course you wanted to be the one who would take him!

you guide him over to a little meadow overlooking the city. surrounding you both are beautiful moonflowers, their sweetness enveloping your sinuses. the air is cool and crisp, and in the distance you hear the faint chirps & buzzing of hummingbirds along with the faint caws of ravens. you’re proud of yourself that you were able to find a place this picturesque. (even to this day, you still have an urge to impress suguru in any way that you can.)

both of you sit on the quilt suguru sets down, the homemade cloth providing an extra layer of cushioning that you feel atop the softness of the grass.

you’re upon the hill clearing, close enough to the city that you can comfortably drive back while still seeing a few citylights from where you are, but far away enough that the light pollution wouldn’t interfere with the date you had planned.

“it’s pretty.” suguru glances at the view, praising you while taking out the tonkatsu sandwiches, pasta salad, & chocolate covered strawberries from your picnic wicker-basket. you pick up a bag of chips and start munching on it while he lays down on his back propped up on his elbows, opening up a banana milk to sip on.

“i’m glad you like it,” your words are muffled in between loud crunches and fast chewing, “i was worried we’d be attacked by a mountain lion or a swarm of bees or some shit.” you say honestly.

he blinks. “i wasn’t worried about that.” sighing out a deep breath, he whispers, “but i am now.” he takes another sip of his banana milk in case it’s his last.

he sits up and picks up the tonkatsu sandwich, handing you the bigger half. “but seriously, how’d you find this place?”

you take the smaller half from his grasp instead, switching with him. taking a bite, you hum happily. suguru is such a good cook. he smiles at you fondly and you answer him, “i was searching up good places to look at the stars. out of all the pictures and reviews, this was the prettiest one.”

you look up at him and swear that you see an actual twinkle in his eyes.

“stargazing?” he pushes his bangs back behind his ear, leaning into your face. loudly repeating, “STARGAZING???” nose pressed against yours, an excitedly manic look in his eyes.

he throws his head back and waves his arms in the air, lamenting, “i should’ve brought my fucking telescope!”

he directs his gaze back towards you, pointing his finger at you accusingly while demanding, “we are coming here again in the future, okay? i’ll bring all of my astronomy gear: a telescope, binoculars, a constellation book, and oooooh! maybe i’ll also bring…” you unintentionally tune him out, looking at him adoringly with stars in your eyes.

this is what you wanted to see.

if you’re being honest with yourself, the best thing to experience in your life is getting to see suguru act genuinely excited. his eagerness to discover new things is infectious, and the man before you is the real suguru: dorky, eclectic, passionate.

the graceful, poised, & elegant man you see when he meets new people and the air of sultriness & suaveness he has when he takes you on fancy dates are utterly enchanting & beguiling, but you think that suguru you see before you now — the excitable nerd, is the most beautiful.

he flicks your forehead, breaking you out of your reverie. “have you been listening to a word i’ve been saying?” he scolds you while pinching your cheek extra hard.

“yeah, you want a telescope so you can look at the stars. also, you look really pretty… the stars ain’t got nothin’ on you.” you rest your chin in your hand, smirking at him, reveling in the blush that paints his cheeks. it was just the cold wind!, he’d tell you later while playfully smacking you upside the head.

you continue, “plus, it’s really hot when you’re all stern and tellin’ me off. what’s my incentive to listen to every word you say if i can get you scoldin’ me instead?” you tilt your head against your hand, grin wide, teeth bared. the masochist in you wants him to scold you even further.

he crosses his arms at you, muscles bulging out of his cream cableknit sweater. your eyes drink up the adonis right in front of you, mentally undressing him. “instead of hitting on me, how about i explain all of the constellations to you in extreme detail?” he purrs to you while biting his lip. he flips his hair over his shoulder, sultrily looking at you. you see right through him of course, knowing that he’s appeasing to your attraction to him just so he can ramble about ursa major, ursa minor, & the big dipper.

frankly. it works.

he holds his hand out to you. a truce.

you shrug. “if you do it like a hot stern professor, then sure.” you both shake on it.

he rolls his eyes playfully, trying to stop the smile that threatens to creep up on his face. “ugh. fine. be quiet and come over here.” he picks you up underneath your thighs and puts you in between his legs. your back pressed against his warm, sturdy chest. he kisses you on the head, appreciative of your indulgence of him.

you giggle cutely and move yourself down, laying your head in his lap while he softly plays with your hair. his lovesick gaze, fond smile, & warm thighs envelope your body, filling your senses with suguru. he leans down and presses a soft kiss against your forehead, an addicting contrast of his cold lip ring & warm soft lips electrifying your skin.

he pops a single chocolate-covered strawberry in your mouth, and you playfully nip his finger. he traces your lips softly and starts playfully lecturing you about the constellations that grace the night sky.

he excitedly points at a cluster of three bright stars, “and that is orion’s belt!”

you point at a bright star in the night sky a few lightyears away from it, grin unbelievably wide.

“i think you might be missing one, babe. and you call yourself the modern-day galileo. heh.” you playfully tease him.

suguru rolls his eyes, “okay first of all, i have never called myself that. second of all — excuse me?” his scoff is slightly haughty, & he can’t help the indignant laugh that escapes out of him. “alright, since you know so much — enlighten me then, what’s that one called?”

“hmm… i believe it’s sugurugeto-020390.”

suguru’s eyes widen ridiculously like flying saucers.

“what?”

you push yourself out of his grasp to hurriedly pull out a certificate from your purse and hand it to him. you sit next to him cross-legged, gauging his reaction.

“trust me, i wish i could get a better name for it, but it turns out there’s a lot of suguru geto’s in the world.”

pausing for a moment, you want to make sure that your boyfriend knows that he’s the only suguru geto on your mind.

giving him bedroom eyes, you purr, “none like you of course.”

he blinks. “what?”

your face falls comically, and you pout, “that bright star in the sky is yours.” you point at it haphazardly. “you’re the light of my life, you illuminate my life, you’re the sole star and center of my universe, blah blah blah… so i figured… ya know…!” you gesticulate wildly, and in the moonlight suguru can see the slight blush on your cheeks. your eyes looking everywhere else but his own.

you’re shy.

he can feel the sinus pressure building up against his nose and the tears glaze over his eyes.

you scratch the back of your head, trying to save face. you quickly backtrack, “i know it’s a bit cheesy and honestly, technically, this was probably a scam, but i figured it was the thought that counts and–”

“shut up.”

you look up at him in a state of shock, “HAH???”

he grabs your cheeks, his silver rings cool against your face, and smashes his lips against your own, teeth slightly knocking against yours. in his excitement, he pushes you down and straddles you, pinning you down to the grass — his body a comforting weight on top of you. he kisses you breathlessly, moaning loudly in your mouth. you can both taste the fruitiness of the strawberry on each others tongues, your own being pressed softly against his piercing. you pull away softly, needing to take a breath.

and the sight above you is one you don’t think you’ll ever want to forget.

suguru’s seductive low-lidded gaze is locked on you, parts of his bangs wisped across his face from the momentum of pouncing on you. he’s breathing heavily, and you can feel his rapid heartbeat hammering against yours, his nipple piercings slightly poking into your chest. a rosy blush spreads itself on his cheeks like a strawberry jam, and you don’t think any view could compare to the one you’re blessed to see now.

his lips are red and glossy, aching to kiss you again. you nod softly, begging him to continue. he slots his lips back with your own, tracing your bottom lip with his tongue before he bites down sensually, groaning loudly when he hears you whimper. he curls an arm underneath your body while kissing you passionately, bringing you closer to him, enveloping you into his space. all you can think about in this moment is: suguru. suguru. suguru.

pulling away once more, you peer into pools of gold. with every fiber of your being, you truly believe that his eyes carry the most beautiful stars — a milky way of ochre and obsidian.

never casting your fond gaze aside, you intertwine your hand with his, bringing it to your lips, kissing each knuckle fervently.

his alluring gaze follows your devoted actions. butterflies brush their wings together inside his stomach, the flutter erupting throughout his whole entire being. he thinks that in the moonlight, underneath the canopy of stars that…

you are the most brightest.

the most beautiful.

the most meaningful.

“honey! i’m hoooooooome!”

you feel unbelievably ecstatic that you can finally get to see your dear boyfriend after two weeks of being apart!

you already have the whole day planned out, perhaps you two can get takeout from your favorite local restaurant and watch anime together! you giggle happily to yourself while thinking about how you both can snuggle and have a cozy day in.

you take your shoes, coat, & purse off by yourself, wondering if suguru is out. usually by the time you’re at the door, suguru is already there welcoming you back with a massive kiss and a “missed you baby.” softly whispered in your ear, especially if you go on a long trip…

hmm, that’s a bit odd.

now that you’re looking around…

the apartment is in complete disarray.

it looks like a tornado blew through the whole place.

you shuffle in further… and dirty dishes are piled in the sink, overflowing dangerously. suguru’s clothes, random knick knacks, and pillows are strewn about as if he threw them all in a fit of rage. crumbs litter the carpet and you see what looks to be dirt tracks on the floorboards. the laundry is stacked high and the air is stuffy, it seems like no windows were opened in the time that you were away.

worriedly, you run into your shared bedroom.

suguru is there, thank god safe & sound, but what you see breaks your heart.

he’s laid face down, the left side of his cheek smooshed into the pillow, black tear tracks staining the fabric… he must’ve cried on a day when he went out? the bedroom is filled with dirty clothes on the floor, and you’re pained to smell the stench of cigarettes in the air. it’s light… maybe he only smoked one… but the fact that he felt the need to smoke at all, shattered your soul.

especially considering he quit ages ago when he started dating you.

you walk towards him lightly, not wanting to scare him off. his eyes are open and he looks at you… but he’s not really looking at you.

“you alright there, precious?” you softly whisper.

a perfunctory question. you know he’s not. he knows he’s not. but you know he’s in no state to answer any questions that you have.

“mhm.” he hums quietly. lethargic, not even having the willpower to answer with anything but a light rasp.

you brush back his bangs, and he shudders. his hair is greasy, oil-black hair clumping together in some places, matted in others. his lips are slightly chapped, a bit bloodied no doubt from his habit of biting his lip when he’s anxious. his fingernails are no stranger to the same action, stubbed and jagged down to the nailbed, his black nail polish chipped. bright amber eyes which often have a gentle look in them have turned into a dull ochre, obsidian pupils overtaking his irises.

they’re still gentle because he’s looking at you… but if you’re being honest with yourself, his eyes remind you a bit of a black hole right now.

vacant of light.

you press a soft kiss against his forehead and leave the room momentarily, thinking to yourself if anything can be done about this situation.

you decide to shoot satoru a quick text, seeing if he can help you out a bit with what you want to do.

you breathe out a sigh of relief, a small smile gracing your face. you can always count on satoru. the man may be silly and eclectic, but at the core of his being, he’s someone who will always take care of and look out for his friends. he’s the type of person to drop anything to help those that he loves and adores.

(sometimes you think that satoru really was an angel put onto earth.) (but then you think that he was probably cast out of heaven for being a little shit.) (regardless, you still fucking love him for it.)

you walk back into the room, and lay your head against your pillow that is next to suguru’s. (it smells like him… he must’ve hugged it while you were away.)

cradling his cheek, you quietly say, “satoru’s also back from his business trip babe, he’ll be coming in about 10 minutes. how about you get a bit of sunshine with him, hmm?” he blinks slowly, nodding softly.

you hold his hand to help him up out from the bed, but he shoos you away, admonishing you slightly, “i can do it myself.”

you nod and leave him to it, mentally preparing yourself for the behemoth cleaning task ahead when he leaves.

suguru pads slowly into the bathroom and puts his hair up in a high ponytail with a hairtie he stole from you, not wanting to deal with it. he washes his face and gets a wet rag to pat down his body and underarms, not having the energy to shower. putting on a random black sweatshirt, he douses himself in your favorite cologne of his. he puts on your strawberry lip balm while popping a piece of mint gum in his mouth and with a tired sigh, he exits the bathroom, dragging his feet to where you are at the door.

he kisses your temple gently. planting a soft kiss against his knuckles, you think your eyes deceive you when you see a semblance of a twinkle in his eyes. “love you baby. i’ll bring you back somethin’.” he rasps out softly.

even in his darkest times, even when his mind is playing tricks on him, he’s still thinking of you. wanting to take care of you. desiring to show his affections towards you in any way that he can.

you simply want to return the favor.

satoru arrives at your doorstep wearing a crisp white button up and black tinted glasses, his snowy white hair shining like starlight thanks to the delicate sunbeams that hit him. he hugs suguru gently, placing a soft kiss against his temples. suguru, dressed in all black just nods his head lightly at him. he’s not really interested in going out but knows that you two will force him regardless, reminding him that getting sunshine and looking at different scenery is important.

as they get into the car and back out of the driveway, suguru waves lightly at you, eyes tired yet gentle. satoru winks at you, proud & thankful that suguru has someone that cares so deeply for his mental, emotional, and physical wellbeing.

waving them both a goodbye, you go back inside and put on your cleaning playlist, ready to get started.

the first thing you do is open up the blinds and windows, wanting to air out the stuffiness that had built up over the past two weeks. considering the fact that suguru got a tinge paler and his undereyes looked sunken, you don’t think he got even a single beam of sunshine or any semblance of fresh air in the time that you were away.

padding over to the kitchen, you begin by doing the dishes. wearing your matching baby blue dishgloves, you get to work. it seems like suguru got anxious by seeing all the dishes piled up and started using some paper plates, which would explain the overflowing trash as well. the dishes are caked with food, but soften a bit by dousing them in water along with spritzing a powerwash grease-lifting spray. you sigh happily, glad that this will make it easier. after washing, drying, and putting away the dishes, you turn your attention to the kitchen surfaces.

you wipe down the counter and dining table in circular motions with a lemon-verbena spray, disposing of any old particles of food and random dust that lay upon the surfaces. already in your cleaning mode, you start to feel a little bit more energized.

opening up the refrigerator, you see that it’s been practically untouched. unfortunately, you gag when you smell rotting veggies and fruits, promptly rushing to your kitchen cabinet to get your trash bag to toss any old food away. you mentally remind yourself to get groceries in the morning, maybe if suguru is feeling a bit better after today you both can go together!

walking into the living room, you get your cleaning towel to beat the dust out of all the furniture. usually you & suguru both start with the bedrooms, but this time you figure you’d start with the living room as it’s in a bit of a better shape than the bedroom.

after you finish beating the living hell out of your cushions, you get to swiffering, mopping, and vacuuming — humming and singing loudly to suguru’s favorite songs on your shared cleaning playlist.

you go into the bedroom and start by gathering all of the clothes on the floor and the ones in the hamper to put inside the washing machine. you look around and do the same with the bedsheets and pillow cases, rubbing the eyeliner out of suguru’s pillowcase with some makeup remover first.

cleaning out all of the drawers, you make sure to throw away any random trash and only keep what’s necessary. clutter bothers both you and suguru, so you do your best to try and minimize that. you pick up empty bottles off the nightstand and throw them away. at least he drank a bit of water.

turning your attention to your bookcase, you wipe down the multitude of pictures of you & suguru that he put in frames.

there’s a few of both of you smiling after going on cute dates — suguru’s grin unbelievably wide while flipping off the camera and holding you close to his chest as you laugh loudly. there’s ones of you gazing at him adoringly, your love for him seeping out of the picture. there’s others of him looking at you — a soft fondness in his eyes, an even softer smile gracing his lips, his affectionate gaze tuning out anyone and anything else that isn’t you. both framed and pinned to the wall are multiple candids you two took of one another when the other wasn’t looking or paying attention, bursts of love immortalized in random moments of time.

you tell yourself that the sniffle you do is just because of the dust.

clearing your throat slightly, you look around proudly. you’re done!

you spray each room with a cotton spray, inhaling the fresh linen scent happily. you light up a teakwood candle that suguru bought a few weeks ago in the living room and put a sandalwood diffuser in the bathroom, freshening up the place. you take a well-deserved shower, feeling properly clean and accomplished.

by the time you’re done, it’s around 5:30 in the evening and satoru texts you that they’re on their way and will be back home in approximately 30 minutes.

you take a can of sprite out of the fridge and onto the counter, while simultaneously placing an order for cold zaru soba noodles from suguru’s favorite local spot. you place another order at your best friend sukuna’s bakery for suguru’s most beloved dessert: matcha crepes. you figure ordering a bouquet of flowers would be a cute, fun little surprise too — anything to put a smile on suguru’s face.

you also do the same for satoru, a little thank-you present for when he comes back to his own apartment. you order a bouquet of narcissus & holly for him, internally hoping that he likes it while also ordering all of his favorite desserts from his favorite bakery! knowing with your entire soul that he will happily fill himself up on raspberry macarons, strawberry cake, vanilla mochi, chocolate donuts, & zunda cream kikufuku to his heart’s desire.

with a pep in your step, you walk back into the bathroom to get the most important part of your night started.

suguru finds his heart a bit lighter when he comes back to your shared home. he didn’t want to admit it to satoru… but he actually had a fun time eating, shopping, and listening to his hilarious stories about his shitty business trip. he’d be lying though if he said that he wasn’t most excited to see you after a long, eventful day.

in his hand are a bunch of shopping bags from stores that satoru dragged him to — clothes from your favorite stores, accessories & bags that you most wear, shoes that you need, books & knick knacks that you like — all for you. he bought a few for himself of course, but he mainly wanted to spoil you. he can’t help the small smile that creeps up on his face when he thinks about how excited you’ll be to see the gifts he got you.

thinking back on it, the guilt and shame he felt in his heart when you first saw him earlier today ate him up. he didn’t even know why he was feeling the way he was feeling so strongly. it was coincidence that it coincided with your trip, and he made sure that he would sound fun and happy over text as to not worry you. it wasn’t until a few days from when you were actually set to arrive that he didn’t even have the energy to talk or text you.

hell, he didn’t even have the energy to keep the apartment tidy or keep himself in check either. another pang of guilt hits him like a freight truck. he concludes that he’ll give you a spa day so he can clean everything up, not wanting you to worry about the mess he made.

he knows from the bottom of his heart that you’d never judge him or make him feel small for feeling the way he felt, he just feels so bad that he couldn’t even muster up the energy to greet you the way you deserved to be greeted. to kiss you. to hug you. to have a delicious dinner together and snuggle with you.

but no. after a long trip you had to come home and be worried for him. have the apartment be in disarray, have to see him be in disarray. fuck, you were worried enough to call up satoru.

he swears to himself that he’s gonna make it up to you. he swears that–

oh?

what?

suguru’s eyes widen, hands weakly dropping his shopping bags on the floor.

the entire apartment, top to bottom, is spotless.

dishes done and put away. dining table clean. living room tidy. is that… a bouquet of daffodils, his birth flower, on the counter? he also sees the bag from his favorite bakery right next to it too…

he walks around, astonished, at how you’ve made the apartment look brand new.

he reaches the bedroom and sees that the bed is made. his clothes have been clean, dried, and put up in hangers inside his closet. the nightstand, dresser, and bookcase all spotless and wiped free of dust.

a fresh smell envelopes his sinuses. he swallows the lump in his throat. did you smell the single cigarette he smoked? it seems like you aired out the whole apartment. in front of him is a beautiful sunset that waves at him from outside. a sunray beam kisses his cheeks. suguru blinks and feels something wet trailing down his face… it tastes salty on his lips. but feels so warm and sweet.

“suguru?” your angelic voice calls to him.

he turns around and sees you. fresh and clean, a beacon of warmth and illumination. a light blush dusting your cheeks no doubt from all of the hard work you’ve done.

“i ran you a bath. you up for it?” you tilt your head cutely at him, a silent plea in your eyes for him to agree.

feeling like his voice will betray him if he speaks, he nods softly. grabbing his hand, you take him to your shared bathroom, also totally spotless. your hands are soft and small in his, warm for once, because of you taking a hot shower and checking the temperature of the water for suguru’s bath. a sandalwood scent envelopes his nose, no doubt from the diffuser you put inside. he sees the romantic candles and rose petals around the bathtub and he can’t help the smile that overtakes his face.

“for me?” he rasps, a teasing tilt to his voice.

“always. everything and anything i do will always be for you.” you say it seriously. genuinely.

to you, it’s a vow. an oath.

his eyes widen slightly, but he closes them momentarily, not wanting any more tears to spill. he crinkles his eyes and smiles at you softly.

“you joining me?” he undresses, taking off his sweatshirt and t-shirt. showcasing his tan skin, toned abs, & muscles. his nipple piercings & belly button piercing are on full display and he giggles lightly as you ogle at his body, watching your eyes trace his numerous tattoos & piercings, absolutely mesmerized.

“maybe next time,” you smirk, a playful twinkle in your eyes. “figured i could do a little pamper session, is that alright with you?” you ask him caringly, wanting to make sure that he’s comfortable with it first & foremost.

he fears that if he speaks any louder than a whisper, the love that overcomes him will drown his airways. he rasps out a small, “yeah.”

always. anything and everything you do will always be right for me.

he gets into the bath and you try to not let your eyes trail down, instead focusing your gaze on his dragon tattoo that encompasses his entire back along with the mythological japanese creatures that trail up his arms and ribcage like tapestry. you see one of your favorites, a black and white beta fish upon his ribs, submerged underneath the water he’s in.

from this angle, you can also see your name that he tattooed behind his ear. smiling to yourself, you sit behind him, ready to begin the pamper session.

his sloshes the rose petals around with his fingers. the water is warm, is his first thought. i wish you were in here with me, is his second.

your fingers stroke his hair softly, lulling him into a false sense of security, and then you get to work, vigorously rubbing in his lavender shampoo. he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. for some reason anytime you two would take baths or take showers together, you would always wash his scalp aggressively. “this is how i wash my hair sugu! what’s a little run through gonna do? we gotta keep clean!” did clean mean damn near ripping out his hair follicles? possibly.

he’d never stop you or scold you however, he thinks it’s hilarious and an endearing trait of yours. when he washes your hair he makes sure to be as soft and careful as possible, almost lulling you to sleep. when you wash his hair however, it’s like you’re turbowashing a pickup truck. he figures this time he’ll give you a pass (he always does) considering that he doesn’t think he’s washed his hair in around a week and a half.

“gonna rinse now, okay?” he hums quietly, closing his eyes.

this almost feels like a purification process to him.

you lather shampoo in his hair once again wanting to do a double cleanse, this time a bit more softly. you massage his scalp, and he tips his head back. you start from the crown of his head, working in circular motions, using your fingertips. then you go to the roots of his hair, pressing and lathering, pressing and lathering, pressing and lathering.

you push his head forward slightly so you can clean the back of his head too, massaging the pressure points in his scalp. you were always a good masseuse, therefore a deep sigh escapes him, tension leaving his body by the second. (this might be the first time in two weeks where he’s been able to breathe comfortably.) you run your fingers throughout the clean strands of his hair, humming a little tune to yourself.

“they called me.” your hands still for second, but resume back to carefully twisting the water out his silky black hair. you stay quiet, knowing that when suguru speaks he prefers to get it all out there first.

“must’ve been like, what, two days after you left?” a humorless laugh escapes him. “they always know when to fuck up my mood. i swear.”

he sighs tiredly. “they went on a whole spiel about how i need to come back home and find a ‘real job’ as a hotshot lawyer or some fancy businessman, as if i don’t run my own tattoo parlor. as if i’m not also a real fucking businessman. like, do they think i don’t make any money? that i can’t comfortably take care of us both?” he rolls his eyes, getting annoyed again just thinking about how long the same repeated conversation had gone on.

suguru’s family is relatively well-off. he’s genuinely thankful that both him & satoru never had to worry about how to put food on the table or be worried about not being able to spoil the people that they loved.

it’s just that his parents were angry that their picture-perfect little boy wanted to spread his wings… see a world that had more to offer than quiet dinner table meals filled with tension and pointed jabs at one another guised as “caring advice.”

their image of suguru started to get distorted when he first showed up on their doorstep with his gauges. an act of rebellion. he could’ve worn small simple diamond studs but he wanted to make an impression: i’m my own person. even as a 13 year old boy, i can make this decision on my own. he remembers the way his father said he looked foolish. how his mother held her hand over her heart, in shock that her little baby boy had tainted himself in such a manner. what would others say?

suguru remembers looking in the mirror after the whole fiasco & thinking: god… they’d say i look so fucking cool.

then it started with sneaking out to go on late night drives with satoru, shoko, nanami, & haibara. they’d jam out to random songs on the radio, get slurpees & snacks, and sit in satoru’s car just talking about life and their future for hours. suguru still remembers the way his bangs wisped across his face, the crisp night air purifying his soul, the stars in the sky illuminating the landscape. the world seemed bigger those days and the gang were enjoying their teenage years. enjoying their youth.

he remembers coming home, his father waiting for him on the couch, pointing to the seat next to him, forcing suguru to sit down. his father’s arms crossed, black turtleneck making his muscles bulge slightly out of his sweater, his specs on the bridge of his nose making him look so serious. suguru found it easy to make eye contact with everyone in the world, but with his father he couldn’t help but look away sometimes… so he redirected his gaze to the tiny delicate beauty mark near his fathers right eye. a small little thing that made his father look a bit more… prettier. nicer. less daunting.

“where were you?” the timbre of his father’s voice rattled his bones. he muttered those three words quietly, but it still shattered suguru’s eardrums regardless.

“out. with my friends.”

he scoffs. “some friends they are.” a deep resounding ring of utter disappointment comes from his father’s words.

suguru sneers at the man, pissed that he would even think to disrespect suguru’s choice of friends like that. “yeah, they’re the best.” not an ounce of sarcasm lacing his words. his own mood dampened, nevertheless.

he recalls stomping all the way upstairs and slamming the door with all his might. sitting on his bed and resting his head against the window pane, eyes looking up at the same stars he saw when hanging out with his friends.

the stars seemed so far away from suguru’s room.

the world looked so big. suguru felt so small.

then one day, months later, suguru kissed a pretty boy. he can’t quite remember his name anymore, just that his lips were soft and his eyes were kind. suguru’s parents found out. his dad was surprisingly fine with it… he just assumed it was a phase, he went through the same thing as his son did when he was his age. his mother however… she just acted like it never happened the next morning. as if it wasn’t just a part of who he is.

his parents thought he was rebelling for the sake of rebellion. in actuality, it was suguru’s true self coming out. he was just getting more comfortable in his own skin. he was tired of being the picture perfect beauty who always was demanded of being polite, poised, & graceful. it was always too easy for him to put on a fake smile and manipulate others into doing what he wanted for the sake of his family’s reputation, it’s what he was taught. being at that house, it felt like he was kept on a tight leash, restricted from living his life. he felt caged like a bird…

but he just wanted to be free.

all he wanted was to just truly be himself in this world.

a kiss against his scalp breaks him out of his reverie.

right… he was here with you. he doesn’t have to spiral or worry anymore. you’re here. with him.

you’re here, you’re here, you’re here.

he shudders softly, taking your hand, holding it tight within his grasp. anger laces his next words, “they also said it’s time i get into a ‘real relationship’. whatever the fuck that means.”

you giggle. you know that his parents aren’t too fond of you, you’re not exactly of the same… class or status as them. at least that’s what suguru’s mother told him.

he huffs out a single dry laugh, “i’m glad you’re laughing about it because i nearly popped a fucking blood vessel screaming into my phone when they said that shit.”

“my protector.” you coo to him.

a light blush tinges his cheeks. always.

he presses a kiss against your palm. “i think it just made me… spiral a bit, y’know? reminded me of when i was kid and they made every little decision for me. i mean i’m a fucking adult now — i can decide what i do, who i wanna be, and who i want to be with.”

so when he got that phone-call from them on that day he was supposed to go to some rock concert… he did the one thing he promised himself he’d never do again. he lit a cigarette, and cried his eyes out into his pillow.

while sobbing, he remembered when he was in his early twenties and he’d sleep around with anyone and everyone, smoke blunts & cigarettes, go bar-hopping… do everything the picture-perfect pretty boy would never be allowed to do under his parents roof. his family just made him so miserable that he would do anything to not think of them.

he heard your voice in his head, reminding him, that instead of continuing on that self-destructive streak, he got his shit together. art & drawing was always his safe haven, so he found himself an apprenticeship at a tattoo parlor, getting a job as a piercer and ultimately working his way up to being a tattooist. he owns his own place now — all his hard work & effort paid off.

his mind travels back to you. his one true love.

ever since the moment he met you, he was mesmerized by your beauty — your smile made suguru feel butterflies flutter around in his stomach, he remembers the day you walked into the parlor and how everything in that moment stopped… as if you two were the only ones in the room, as if he could already imagine a future life with you. your personality shining through like a beacon of light, and as he got to know you further, your loving words & caring actions only made him fall deeper in love.

suguru’s heart and sobs only calmed down when he thought of you. his beloved. his angel. his reason to be. he hugged your pillow a bit tighter that night, imagining it was you.

“i’m proud of you, you know.” you say it so genuinely that it tugs on his heartstrings, making his heart skip a beat.

“you’ve been through a lot of shit with your parents, but at the end of the day, you chose to follow what your heart desired — not whatever they wanted. you’re successful in what you do and you made the right decision. it doesn’t matter what the hell they say, because they don’t know the effort and time it took you to get where you are.” you say it so passionately, that suguru believes every word that comes out of your mouth. his heart racing, thankful that somebody fucking understands him.

“you’re kind. you’re caring. you’re so unbelievably loving. you’re always looking out for others and helping anyone that needs it… you’re a good fucking person, suguru. i hope you know that and realize that. it doesn’t matter what anyone else says, you are good. what you do is good. who you are is good. it’s an honor to be able to love you and be with you. i hope you know that.”

for the first time in a while, suguru turns around and really looks at you. the way you bare your soul to him so effortlessly, the way you smile so sweetly at him, the way you make him feel like he’s your one true love.

“i’m so thankful for you. i love you… and i want to be with you, too. always.” his voice breaks a little, overcome with emotion.

suguru hugs you tightly, neither of you caring about the wetness on your clothes. suguru puts his entire spectrum of feelings towards you into the hug — an apology, a thank you, and a proclamation of love.

voice a bit shaky, he laughs, “sorry for getting you all wet. i know how much you hate drenched clothes.”

“you apologizing for getting me wet? now that’s a first.” you purr playfully, glad to see him in better spirits.

a loud laugh bellows out from suguru, deep within his gut. he kisses your lips preciously, and sits back down in the water, urging you to continue.

the mood now is far lighter. the air thick with a sweet steam.

you rinse his hair and gently put his lavender conditioner through his hair. massaging it in, running your fingers through his silky smooth strands. you put his hair up in a clip for a few minutes to let the product soak in. he washes it out himself while you start the shower, making sure you put in his favorite honey-almond bodywash. he gives you a silly yet oddly sultry show when he lathers himself and he promptly comes out, steaming and refreshed. you help him do his skincare routine, softly rubbing each and every product into his skin. he towels off and sits down, hairbrush in his hand, looking at you.

“here, let’s do this first.” you blow dry his hair, taking your time and allowing suguru to lull his head back onto your front, the soft black tresses of your beloved’s hair feeling much more revitalized in your fingers. you then brush his hair, gently, carefully. the entire time, you notice that suguru’s eyes are closed and he’s smiling to himself. you kiss him on the top of his head, and he turns to kiss you back. eyes closed, his lips puckered…

but just then, the doorbell rings.

“OOH! perfect timing!” you scurry off. you leave a pouting suguru who huffs out a little “hmph.” annoyed that whoever was at the door took a very well-deserved kiss away from him.

he patters softly to the kitchen where you’re setting out cold zaru soba noodles for him along with a can of sprite and matcha crepes. all of his favorites.

you hold a bouquet of flowers. daffodils.

“for you.” you curtsy, a mirthful twinkle in your eyes. he graciously accepts them from you, a shy smile and light flush across his cheeks.

“thank you.”

kissing his knuckles you whisper, “anything for you.”

for once in his whole entire life, suguru doesn’t think he can bear to look you in the eye. your adoration is so unbelievably intense, it feels like it’ll burn a hole inside his heart. does he deserve so much goodness in his life?

“you deserve more than what i can give you. i’ll spend my whole life making sure you realize that, suguru.” you say to him honestly. “if you’ll allow me of course.”

he kisses you on the lips softly, hoping that you can feel how thankful and lucky he is that he has you. “likewise.”

he clears his throat. “okay, c’mon. i’m starving. i wanna watch that stupid show and shit talk that hot guy you like on screen while we snuggle.”

“he’s the best character, suguru!” you huff indignantly. clearly he can’t be talking about thee toji fushiguro???

“babe. he SUCKS.”

he knows you so well, he muses to himself.

he knows how your breath hitches after he nuzzles his lips against the curve of your neck, that the skin is sensitive there, but not as sensitive as your right ear. he knows that because of the way your knees buckle as he whispers soft romances to you, intense shivers overtaking your body. he makes sure that his arm is always wrapped tender yet firmly around your waist when that happens, trapping you against his unyielding body.

he knows what makes you tick. on the rare occasion that you allow your emotions to overcome you, he knows how to comfort you. he leaves you alone for a few moments so you’re able to gather your thoughts & assess your bearings, and then he invites you into his warm embrace. he lets you lay your head in his lap as he strokes your hair gingerly, easing your soul with both honest and kind words. adorning your face with soft kisses and even softer caresses. a cocoon of protection.

it seems like these days, however, he hasn’t had a proper grasp on you. you can’t hide a single thing from him, he knows that you would never willingly do so either.

it’s not like you want to anyways — not that you intend to, at least.

but it’s an aching feeling in his chest, nonetheless.

earlier in the week, you’d softly shut your bedroom door whenever you saw him, pretending as if you couldn’t see each other… as if he wasn’t there. it’s moments where he found you haphazardly digging for shit in your drawers, tucking whatever it was into your pockets and padding away softly to your room. you’d stay in there for hours, only coming out when he knocked on your door to tell you dinner was ready. he heard lots of rustling and you pretended as if you were just chilling in there, as if nothing was going on. sometimes when he knocked on your door to see what you were up to, all he heard back was an “i’m busy, baby! i’ll be out soon!” then it became even more odd, you’d quickly shut off your phone whenever he came into the room and would plaster a bright smile at him as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

he sighs to himself. he trusts you. he loves you. he knows you’re not doing anything heinous.

but… why won’t you tell him what’s bothering you? don’t you trust him to fix whatever is wrong? it eats away at his mind & soul that you think you have to hide whatever it is that’s taking you from him. don’t you know that he’d drop anything for you? that’s what being in love is for, right?

his eyes peer at you from the couch, studying you. he calls out to you softly, “angel. can we talk, please?”

a statement posed as a question. he knows this. you know this. you answer regardless.

“sure.”

you walk towards him, intentionally adding a lackadaisical swagger to your steps. to fool him. you know it won’t, he knows it won’t. but suguru isn’t anything if a man who doesn’t indulge his beloved.

he pats the seat next to him on the couch. inviting. as if he’s giving you a choice, even though you know you have none at the moment. “sit next to me, my love.” his smile is taut like a string, amber eyes shut closed so you don’t bear witness to the tears that threaten to spill.

he knows you’re hiding something.

he doesn’t like not being in the know.

is it something he did?

is it something you did but are too afraid to tell him?

since when were you afraid of him?

were you always–?

in the few seconds it takes you to sit down, a myriad of questions race through suguru’s head, creating a spiral of untamable negative thoughts. you would talk to him if something was wrong, right? you both have a healthy communication and always talk things over with each other… so what’s different now? do you not trust him?

suguru chastises himself, thoroughly.

of course you wouldn’t want to speak to someone like him.

always the overthinker. always the nagging negative nancy. always the manic-depressive.

sometimes suguru fears that he acts more like a father to you rather than a boyfriend.

that he’s a bit suffocating. too intense. very overbearing.

a warm hand engulfs both of your small, cold ones. he hopes that it comes off as sweet, as caring. because he himself is sweet and caring.

at least he hopes he comes off like that.

“is everything alright, sweetheart?” a soft whisper. he speaks placatingly to you like you’re a newborn fawn and any loud noises or large movements will make you jolt and run away. “i feel like… you’ve been avoiding me recently. and…” he takes a deep breath. “listen, i don’t know if it’s something i did, but you need to tell me, okay? you have to tell me so i can make it better.”

he thinks he sounds nurturing. kind. paternal.

he also thinks he sounds so fucking condescending.

he closes his eyes and a picture of a man darts across his eyelids like an overdeveloped photo.

strict, heavy-handed, cutthroat.

paternal and protective to a fault. a man who was always “right” even when he was wrong.

an “apathetic” man who bore a child who thought too much – felt too much.

a flash of a sophisticatedly handsome man with obsidian shoulder length hair, serious low-lidded eyes, and a firm closed mouth sears itself across suguru’s brain like a charred photograph.

he flings away the afterimage as quickly as it came. pretending as if he never even thought of it.

he gulps, swallowing the fireball in his throat. god, he really doesn’t want to be like… him. having a majority of his features is enough, he does not want to inherit that man’s personality.

suguru absentmindedly rubs the slit in his eyebrow, his grip unintentionally tightening on your hands. he releases moments after, not wanting to cause you any pain.

“everything is fine with me sugu, i promise you.” you reassure him. “it wasn’t my intention to avoid you or make you feel like you did anything wrong… i am so sorry if it came off like that.” you answer him honestly. your head is tilted to the side like a little puppy, brows furrowed, upset that you made him feel like you were trying to get away from him.

“no, no no no no no, baby it’s not your fault.” he quickly grabs your cheeks, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. he brings you against his chest, hugging you tightly. “don’t apologize honey, i’m sorry… i just got into my head a bit.” he quickly placates you and kisses the top of your head. you shouldn’t be the one to suffer because he started to anxiously overthink and spiral.

he looks at the time on his watch. it’s a few minutes past midnight. you both should go to sleep… maybe you can talk it over in bed or in the morning with clear heads.

you exhale softly, shaking your head faintly. you press a delicate kiss against the corner of his lips. telling him, “give me a sec.”, you walk over and into your room.

he nods and watches you saunter away, putting his head into his hands. god… him and his big mouth… he sighs, anxiety crawling up his throat once more. he really didn’t want to upset you or anything, he angrily tells himself to apologize to you when you get back.

hearing you shuffle closer to him, he lifts his head.

in your hands is a… huge book?

“i wanted to give you this tomorrow… well technically today, but i guess it doesn’t really matter.”

he tilts his head, confused. you present him with the thing you’ve been working so hard on.

you smile at him so softly, he thinks that his heart is about to burst. “happy birthday, suguru.”

birthday…? oh god, it is his birthday.

he gently takes the present from you… it’s a scrapbook.

“don’t look at it in front of me! okay, bye!” you quickly sprint into your room, not wanting to be in the room when suguru looks at such a personalized present.

blinking, he grabs his reading glasses from the coffee table, and opens the book, flipping through each page carefully.

photobooth pictures, polaroids, kodak film pictures, movie tickets from your dates, admission tickets from amusement parks he’s taken you to, and multiple candids of both him and you - many of which he hasn’t seen.

one of them looks awfully familiar… did you take this the day you took him stargazing in the meadow? his fingers brush against his trembling lips, trying to stop himself from sobbing.

is this what you were doing?

he feels so stupid.

but god… does he feel so fucking loved.

you’ve immortalized every single moment of your relationship with him. nothing being too small for you to be excited about, carefully keeping everything.

he sees the little pressed flower of a daffodil enclosed in wax paper on one of the pages, probably from the first time you gave him a bouquet. the first time anyone has presented him with flowers without wanting anything in return. when asked about the occasion, you simply shrugged and said “just felt like it” & then quickly kissed his knuckles, zooming out of his apartment to run errands. he remembers how bashful he felt. how thankful he was. how loved that experience made him feel.

he moves his glasses upwards, wiping the tears across his lashline and the ones that stream down his face. he clears his throat slightly, and continues flipping the pages. you’ve drawn little doodles (things that he’s already planning to get tattooed on him simply because they came from you) and you’ve written beautiful, personal messages. encapsulating your adoration for suguru in the margins — genuine words filled with your love, devotion, and admiration for him.

he sniffs loudly and tries to wipe his face the best he can. he tenderly calls out your name, beckoning you over to him, and you get up out of your shared bedroom to pad softly into his open arms.

“my love.” he stands up and walks over to you midway. he hugs you so tightly while pressing your head against his beating heart, his arms protectively enveloping you. the space between you two is nonexistent, and suguru surmises that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

conveying his thankfulness and love to you, he sweetly says, “my sweet, sweet girl.” a soft kiss pressed against your hair, “you know my heart beats for you, right?” from anyone else it’d sound cheesy, but from suguru… you know he means it from the depths of his soul.

he holds your face in his gentle hands, openly divulging his admiration for you, “my little dove.” he coos so fondly, sweet candied sugar dripping from every syllable. “you’re so precious to me, you know that? i love you. i love you. i love you.” a tender kiss pressed against your soft lips between each proclamation of adoration.

you smile graciously, thankful and relieved that he adores your present and that he especially adores you. you knew out of any of your presents that you were going to give him today, that this would be the most meaningful. suguru has always been the ultimate sentimentalist, and you wanted him to know that you care for him so deeply. that you love him. adore him. that your heart beats only for him. pushing back a black tendril of hair behind his ear, you kiss him gently. both of your lips fitting together perfectly — like a lock & key.

you bring his knuckles upon your lips, preciously kissing his promise ring, ensuring to him that your love and devotion runs deep, deeper than anything in this world.

“i love you too. happy birthday, my love.” his hands are so gentle. his face is so sweet. suguru… your one true love.

if someone asked suguru to describe you in three words, he’d say you were: devoted. loyal. loving.

he has four more words of his own on the tip of his tongue that he’ll ask to you when he musters up the courage.

with a soft kiss upon the ring on your knuckles, and an even softer smile upon his lips, he lovingly breathes out, “i’ll always love you, forever.”

#IF NO ONE GOT ME I KNOW USER FIFTYFEETSTRAWBERRYPARFAIT (BOOP EMOJI) GOT ME 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🗣️🗣️🗣️🫡🫡🫡#I LOVE YOU SM . would die for you also btw just so You know………… SMOOCH <333 #but fr thank you SO much for reading these silly lil fics it means the world to me :’) i genuinely appreciate EVERY comment so much <3 MWAH

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annabelle--cane · 2 days ago

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one thing that I think is missing from discussions about fiction as fantastical wish fulfillment, particularly fanfiction as fantastical wish fulfillment, is that textbook-perfect communication and boundary setting can also be fantasy material. sure, sometimes characters talking to each other like they're trying to get a good grade in therapy can be a form of virtue signaling by an author or the author's desperate attempt to avoid their audience getting mad at them, but I can guarantee there's a whole load of people pawing at the screens of their ao3 windows thinking "god, imagine if people were this nice to me" in exactly the same way that others read their favorite making-each-other-worse fics to indulge in little a tragic catharsis as a treat.

#'bdsm manual perfectly negotiated sex is so boring to read' I largely agree but I don't think it's Trying to be racy and fun #I think it's trying to be a soothing fantasy about people respecting each other #marina marvels at life

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maiamore · 3 days ago

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STAR-STRUCK

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ | W/C: 5k

Summary: You’re a fresh-faced production assistant for known action star Joel Miller. He’s not quite what you expected–but neither are you.

Tags: actor!joel x production assist reader, action film set, no use of y/n, rough/dom Joel, use of the word ‘kid’, mirror sex, rough sex, unprotected pinv, mentions of injuries & violence, Joel does his own stunts, public sex, bdj (big-dicked-Joel), Joel is not nice in this fic, more untagged read at your own discretion A/N: oof this a long one. also! i swear i've seen something similar relating to the mandalorian reference. if anyone knows the fic, pleaaaase let me know

READER’S TATT/PIERCINGS-SPO

This wasn’t what you’d imagined your life to look like.

For the majority of your adult life, you’d clung to a glittering, idealistic vision of your future. You’d blame it on those countless movie marathons with your dad–the late nights, the worn-out couch and the satisfying click of the DVD player setting the stage for your ambitions. You’d dreamed of being a part of the magic. The glitz, the glamour, the art of it all.

Directors like Ridley Scott, Martin Scorsese, John McTiernan captured your adolescent heart, fanning the flames of your Hollywood dreams.

You knew coming into this that it was going to be far from easy. God knows you’d paid your dues living in NYC after having moved from your small town–sharing a tiny shoebox of an apartment with three others, taking multiple part-time gigs, hustling to finally land a Production Assistant (PA) role.

And now here you were. Accommodations comped, flown to Atlanta for the shoot of some action movie you weren’t even allowed to know the title of thanks to the NDA you’d signed.

It was suspenseful, sure, but not in the sexy, thrilling way you’d imagined. More like in the “what fresh hell did I sign up for” sort of way.

“So you’ll be handling scheduling, coordinating, and helping the stylists. And making sure his overall well-being is met.”

You shuffled behind Jonah, the PA you were supposedly replacing. It was nearly overwhelming. Already built streets, custom housings, all wrapped up in a larger than life sound stage. Everyone was in their own world, working on their own tasks.

Normal people might have felt small and unseen. But you? You were still star-struck. You could be a part of something so much bigger than you, and that thought excited you.

“7am every morning. You’ll need to be on standby to help Joel with everything he needs. So here’s the schedule.”

More papers were being shoved to you, your arms slowly vanishing beneath an ever-growing stack. You scanned it, eyes twitching in dread.

Every fifteen damned minutes had its own designation. Was this a movie or a military operation?

“Right! Got that. So…who exactly am I…” You squint at the bolded text on freshly printed paper, still warm to touch. “Wiping sweat at 16:45…for?”

Jonah halts mid-strut, turning back to you like you’d just insulted his entire bloodline. “What…do you mean? You don’t know who you’re working for?”

“I do.” You shoot back defensively. “Well–okay. No. Not really. I was given an NDA, so I’m–”

“It was a yes or no question, hun.”

Suddenly, you were grateful to J-hole leaving. Not so much of replacing his long ass list of endless tasks, though.

He stops before the stylist’s station, gesturing to a cluttered board, displaying headshots and costume references for your apparent “boss.” As you step closer, your breath catches in your throat.

No way. No fucking way.

“Joel fucking Miller?”

Your fingers, almost acting on their own, plucked one of the profile shots from the board. Joel’s broad frame was practically sculpted. His Special Forces uniform taut over his muscles, probably for the character he was playing. Another close-up featured his face smudged with faux grime and fake injuries, his expression hardened and grim.

And then…there were the less clothed test shots. Your gaze betrayed you, dipping to the dark trail of neatly trimmed curls disappearing beneath his belt.

Your head snapped up so fast it was a miracle you didn’t pull a muscle, as though the sheer force of willpower could exorcise the horny demon possessing you.

Jonah grins at your obvious surprise. Sighing dreamily at the profile shots of him, side views and costume shots.“Yep. Now. It isn’t going to be a problem with you now is it? We had to fire the old girl cuz’ she attempted to–nevermind. Don’t wanna get into that. It was a whole debacle. You can look it up in the files under the Miller versus Nancy lawsuit.”

You glanced at Jonah, confusion knitting your brow before returning the photo to the desk. Honestly? You probably wouldn’t have blamed this Nancy. Joel had been the blueprint for your sexual awakening.

As fucked as it was. Considering he was closer in age to your dad than your own.

Watching him star in films by the greats back in high school had left you fantasizing, his smoldering intensity seared into your brain. God. You were going to need the entire night to mentally prepare for this.

“You tellin’ that story again?” The voice behind you sent a shiver up your spine–it was the kind of voice that wrapped around you like a thick yarned blanket on a cold night. And the kind of voice you fantasized about when you were grinding against your pillow.

You froze, every damned nerve on high alert. Turning slowly.

Joel Miller stands there. Resurrected from the photos itself.

He was dressed like he’d just walked off a lazy Sunday pickup game. Grey athletic shorts that hung low on his hips, revealing sturdy, hairy legs that somehow made him seem even more rugged. A black t-shirt clung to his frame, dampened at the collar with sweat. Navy cap sitting snug on his head.

You couldn’t stop yourself from shamelessly dragging your eyes from the damp curls peeking out at the nape of his neck to his thighs.

He scratches his stubbled jaw, his eyes sweeping the room before landing on you. They paused, and you realized–a little too late–that he’d caught you gawking.

Joel nudges his head towards you. “This her?”

Jonah nods, handing Joel a call sheet. “All new and sparkly.”

He looks you over–not in a predatory way, but like he was cataloging every detail. Dark and steady. And it lands on your shirt. For a split second his brows lifted, just barely.

“You watch that one?”

Your brain stutters and you look down, realizing you’d stupidly worn your Mandalorian graphic tee. His face–or well, Din Djarin's helmeted face, was plastered across your chest along with the iconic Star Wars logo.

“Oh! Um. yeah,” you stammer, tugging the hem of the cotton as if the ink would magically disappear.

Great. You meet the man you had dozens of posters of and you were stuttering like a fucking idiot.

“Big fan. Of the show. And, um, the movies. And, you know, your–” Joel holds up a palm, silencing your rambling. “Right.” He sounded amused, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “...‘preciate it.”

Joel never liked change. It was ironic, given his line of work. An actor, in its nature, had him slipping into new roles and personas on a constant basis. But no matter how many characters he played, he'd preferred the familiarity of a constant crew.

So the news that Jonah was leaving and that his replacement was a fresh out of film school rookie had Joel grumbling for days.

Then he saw you.

Maybe it was the way you looked at him, like you were seconds away from fainting. Or maybe it was the shirt. That damn shirt.

You clearly hadn’t gotten the memo about dressing for long hours on set. Instead of the usual hoodie and less than glamorous foam sneakers combo, you were rocking a cropped baby tee stretched taut across your chest.

His gaze dipped, almost involuntarily, taking in the rest of you. The way your bootcut jeans sat low and snug on your hips—to the bunch of keys and a juicy grape chapstick hung on a carabiner attached to your belt loop.

When you shifted nervously, the movement sent a glint of light flickering from your stomach. A silver charm, shaped like a star, dangled from your belly button. He caught himself mid-thought, forcing his eyes back to your face, but the damage was done.

You weren’t as innocent as you looked. He’d figured out that much.

Your fuck-ups hadn’t gotten you fired. Not yet, at least. Somehow, you were still here. Holding onto your job by a thread.

It still felt surreal, working for Joel Miller. You’d spent years watching this man on screen. All his works & press interviews. It seemed pretty fucking unreal to think that you now had his name saved to your phone like no big deal.

Given you weren’t able to tell anyone about it, though the purple vibrator that sat in your bedside drawer was pretty much the only thing that knew his name by now.

In the weeks that followed, you’d fallen into a rhythm with him. There were rules–unspoken ones. You didn’t ask too many questions, didn’t hover too close, and didn’t take it personally when he barked orders or dismissed you with a grunt. Joel wasn’t an easy man to work for.

What was even worse, was that in Joel's eyes, you were probably the least sexual entity to have ever existed. It stung, especially when you considered how much of your mind he occupied.

“Give me a…second. Dunno how these things work.”

You’d shifted uncomfortably, dropping to your knees to Joel’s horror. You sat on your thighs with a huff. Attempting to gather the hem of Joel’s pants to tuck into the army garters.

“Christ. You don’t hafta…” Joel’s throat tightened as he fought the sudden, unwelcome heat pooling low in his gut.

“Huh?”

It was distracting, the sight of you so close. On your fuckin’ knees no less. Joel tugs around his belt. He snaps his fingers to catch your attention and you look up at him, with wide eyes.

His thumbs twisting around the two metal hooks of the thin garter until it connects. “Just hook em’ together, kid.”

You nodded at his words. Finally managing to neatly tuck it into his boots.

Though from his vantage point, something else catches his eye–a small mark etched into your skin. Black ink at the nape of your neck, a star, delicate like the charm that hung from your belly button.

“Ya got a thing for stars?”

You blinked a few times before the words finally registered. Was he really starting a conversation when you were on the ground like this? You notice the slight nudge of his head towards your left.

Instinctively, you cupped around the back of your neck. “Oh..yeah. I mean…it’s pretty and all.” You had to admit, Joel’s childlike curiosity over the ink on your body all of a sudden caught you off guard.

He raises a brow at your admission. “What’s the point of puttin’ it at a place you can’t see. Seems pretty pointless.”

“Didn’t put it there for me to see.” You say with a shrug.

Joel’s jaw ticks when he realises the insinuation behind your words. He drags his hand down his face, opting to finally keep his mouth shut when the images conjured in his mind couldn’t be held back anymore.

You didn’t quite notice his distress till you looked up after the lengthy silence that settled.

The imperceptible twitch in his crotch area catches your attention. Your lips parted to stifle a gasp of surprise.

Was he— “Jus’ get the hell up, kid.”

The respectable thing to do was to go on about his job. It was humiliating enough that you’d caught him in a painfully embarrassing position.

But Joel Miller learned two new things about himself.

First, he didn’t quite mind the soft, lingering scent of strawberries and vanilla you seemed to carry. A quiet, comforting sweetness that seemed to cling to the air whenever you were near.

The second? Well, the second was far more troublesome.

The thoughts that plagued him at night when he was fucking his fist, or someone else for that matter. It didn’t help that he was aware of such vivid and intimate details of you. It fucked with his head how desperately he wanted to draw pleasure out of you and stain that pretty little dainty star you had on your belly with ropes of his cum.

The culmination of it all was taxing. But somehow? He managed to keep those thoughts at bay.

When the director finally called cut for the day, Joel stepped off set, muscles aching and shirt damp with sweat. He scans the area out of habit.

Jonah would’ve been there by now–towel, water & phone in hand, ready for the usual barrage of calls and texts he needed to deal with.

Instead, it was you.

Joel exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face as the realization hit him again. Right. Jonah was gone.

“You don’t have to look like the world’s ended, Joel.”

He doesn’t answer you, not at first.

“It’s not like I’m going to tell people that you—“

Joel seats himself in his chair loudly. A silent warning for you to not go there. He lets out a long, drawn out exhale. Folding his arms tightly. “Kid. Don’t know whatcha think you saw–”

That again. Kid. Was that how he saw you? You had half the mind to admit what the idea of it did to you—the idea that he might’ve gotten hard at the thought of you.

“Hate that I even have to ask.” You begin, not letting him finish his thought. “You realize I’m not.” You were dabbing a little harder now, tossing out the used makeup wipes in the trash beside you.

“Y’are when I’ve got a decade over ya.” He says simply. Wincing at your harsh gestures. “Don’t need the complications.” He pushes your hand away, his deep brown eyes stayed locked on you, searching, warning.

“Leave well enough alone, got that?”

The following weeks on set proved to be grueling, even by Joel’s standards. His reputation preceded him. A stubborn, self-reliant actor who insisted on doing his own stunts. For the studio, it was a nightmare. Higher insurance premiums, a ballooning budget, and his manager losing sleep over the what-ifs.

For Joel, it was just how he’d always worked.

But his body wasn’t what it used to be. He could feel the aftermath of his aching limbs with every roll, leap, and landing. By the end of each day, he was a drained man.

The tension on set that evening was suffocating, the kind that made every sound sharper, every movement feel urgent.

Joel’s stunt wasn’t supposed to go wrong. It rarely did. But today was different.

You’d seen the way his jaw tightened with every take, the exhaustion etched into the lines of his face. Monitoring him from the sidelines when the cameras were still rolling.

Then it happened.

A sickening crunch, the unmistakable sound of something gone wrong. Joel hit the ground hard, and the set erupted in chaos. The director’s voice echoed through the sound stage, “Cut! Jesus. Check on Joel. Now!” as the crew scrambled toward him.

You froze, the towel and water bottle in your hands suddenly feeling useless. Your feet moved on instinct, but the crowd around Joel was essentially a wall. Blocking you out.

You couldn’t get through.

“Back off. M’fine.” Joel’s voice cuts through the commotion, frustration dripping from every word. He swatted away helping hands, gaze darting through the crowd. His face twisted in anger, not from pain but from the lack of order.

“Where the hell is she?” he grumbled.

You hesitated, your stomach knotting. His eyes finally locked onto you, and his expression darkened. “You. Get over here.”

The weight of his command pulled you forward, even as your gut screamed to stay back, letting someone more qualified deal with it. You shuffled behind him as you’d maneuvered out of the crowd and back into his trailer. Eyes widening at the sight of blood seeping through a tear in his shirt.

“Joel, I–…shouldn’t we call–”

“Don’t need someone else,” he interrupted, his tone biting but strained. “Just. I’ll tell ya what to do. Kits in the left drawer.”

“Okay,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice steady, wracking your brain for memories of those first aid videos you’d seen on YouTube. Film school did not prep you for this.

As you grabbed the first aid kit, you watched Joel slump against the trailer walls. You stood there, awkwardly, watching the scarlet blossom against his abdomen.

He looks at you for a moment before exhaling. “Y’know, you can ask n’ not jus’ stand there like a mute, darlin’.”

The witty remark dies in your throat when he yanks his shirt off. Effectively shutting your brain down entirely. You stare down at his body in its’ full glory. Damp with sweat and streaked with dirt. Blood smeared in jagged trails down his arm to his abdomen, mingling with grime from the fall. Joel pulls out the antiseptic wipes from the first aid kit, handing it to you.

“Shit, Joel. That looks fucking bad.” You hissed out, as though you were the one with a darkened gash on your midriff when you attempted to wipe the first streak off.

“Why…” Fuck. Your voice was cracking. “Why didn’t you just let someone else help you?”

He huffed, his dark eyes flicking to yours for a moment in amusement before looking away. “Ain’t worth makin’ a scene over somethin’ small.”

“This isn’t small, Joel,” you protested, frowning as you uncovered a deeper gash on his side. “You should’ve let the medics handle it.”

“Don’t need all that fuss.” His tone was clipped, defensive. “Been doin’ my own stunts for years. Ain’t stoppin’ now ‘cause of a scratch.”

“This isn’t a scratch.”

Joel’s gaze flicked to yours again, a flash of something unreadable in his expression. “Look, I get it, alright? But I don’t need everyone actin’ like I’m fallin’ apart. I’m fine.”

He knew deep down that his ego was far too big to admit that he actually needed help.

“Stubborn,” you murmured under your breath, shaking your head as you pressed a clean pad against the wound.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Joel’s patience was paper thin, but he bit back whatever comment was forming on his tongue. “Enough of that. Just…tie it up” He sighs, strained, handing you a roll.

You nodded, fumbling with the bandage as your heart pounded in your ears. The wound was deeper than you’d thought now that it was clean, and the sight of it made your stomach churn.

“C’mon, darlin’. Ain’t got all day.”

You secured the bandage, tying it off with a bunny-eared bow before sitting back on your heels. Fingertips drumming on your knees, seemingly proud of yourself.

Joel glanced down, his brows furrowing as he took in your work. “What the hell is that?”

“What?” you say defensively. “You told me to tie it.”

“Looks like ya wrapped a damn present,” he muttered.

“Fine, I’ll redo it–”

“Don’t bother.” He caught your hands before you could move, holding them in place. “It’ll hold.”

The silence that followed proved to further intensify the air between the two of you. His grip on your wrist was firm but not harsh, his eyes locked on yours. You didn’t dare to move.

The curve of his nose grazed your cheeks, the faintest touch sent a shiver down your spine, but he had enough sense to move away.

You however, didn’t think, didn’t hesitate when you leaned in, capturing his lips in a quick, tentative kiss.

It seemed to have caught the both of you off guard.

Joel froze, the kiss barely lasting a second before he pulls back, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he’d tell you off.

But instead, he leans forward. Kissing you harder, deeper. A palm slips to the back of your neck to anchor you in place.

With nowhere else to put your hands, you placed them on his thighs, gripping them tightly.

The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was desperate. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin. His other hand gripped your waist, drags you closer until your knees pressed against the side of his hips.

But just as quickly as it started, Joel stops. He pulls back with a bated breath. His hands slip from where he held your neck. “Shit,” he mutters, his jaw clenching as he looks away. “Shit.”

You blinked, your heart racing as you tried to catch up. Trying not to let the disappointment show in your voice. “Joel–”

“Stop. I shouldn’t have.” The curtness in his tone startled you. But you frowned. Trailing behind him as he gets up.

“Well you did.” You blocked his path towards the door of his trailer. Eyes filled with a burning persistence of him once again denying you.

“Don’t push it, kid.”

You’d practically stepped up to him confrontationally. “—Or better yet, you gonna tell me that I imagined it?”

“You can’t do all of that and then just back off.”

It frustrated you to no end when he stonewalled you like this. Like you were some irrational kid who couldn’t read between the lines.

When Joel finally does speak, he merely says your name. With a finality you couldn’t quite refute. You bite the inside of your cheeks. Feeling humiliated at being shot down when you’d thrown yourself onto someone like this.

“Fucking coward.”

This time, you didn’t mumble.

Joel visibly grimaces at that. You feel his hand grip painfully around your wrist, stopping you from leaving the trailer.

You let out a choked gasp when his hands shoot out to grip around your throat before you could even react. Forcing you backwards at every step. Instinctively, you grab around his wrists to loosen his grip.

“Hey!”

He leans down to your level, lips grazing against your ears in a deep whisper. “Fuckin’ coward, huh?” You'd pushed all the right buttons. He'd held back for so damned long and he didn't have it in him to hold back. Not after you'd run your mouth.

You let out a shaky exhale. Teeth grit painfully. You should’ve felt scared. Horrified, really. But the tenderness in his hold makes you feel conflicted about what you should’ve felt.

Joel’s grip held you firm. Tipping your head up. “Y’want me to fuck you that bad?”

A soft whimper leaves your lips when his back presses against you. The hardness rubbed up against your core. You shudder at the sensation, nodding weakly.

His rough palms circle around your waist, turning you over the dressing table until your pelvis sat flush against it. The grip around your throat swiftly turns to a vice grip around your jaw.

He tugs at your jaw. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Ugh—yes.…need you..tofuckme.” You manage through gritted teeth. It irked you to say it, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t have let up.

Joel tugs you to look up into your own reflection. Your gaze immediately sours, attempting to look away.

“C’mon now. S’a pretty sight.” He tuts. His other palm drags the fabric of your top up harshly, pulling it up along with your bra. Your tits spilling at the notion. A gasp slips from your lips.

“Joel!” Your palms tightens into fists on the table at the obscene sight.

So much for someone who didn’t want to give in.

It doesn’t faze Joel, merely letting out a low whistle. Kneading them in his palms. “Perfect fuckin’ tits.”

He presses a kiss down the sides of your neck. Twisting around your nipples till they hardened between his fingers. You let out a pathetic whine at the sensation. Holding his arms firmly, you squirm as he nips your shoulder.

“Could you just—“ Your protests don't stop him in the slightest. Nudging your head a little to give him room. He takes it as a sign to bite down on your neck, bruising you with hickeys all over.

Joel seems to catch your nervous flickers towards the doors. He shifts your hair over one side of your shoulder. Thumbing over the ink on the nape of your neck. You hear the sound of the zipper, briefly catching sight of him shucking his pants down. He winces slightly at the dull pain shooting across his abdomen, but the desperation of needing you was far greater than the pain.

Somehow, the idea of not being able to see it made it so much worse. And as though he reads your mind, he presses his jaw against the side of your head. “Relax.” The tenderness in his tone through the roughness does manage to soothe your nerves. You nod slowly.

Your hips jolt as the cold air hits your body when Joel dips a finger under the waistband of your sweats. He teasingly brushes his fingers lightly against your skin before swiftly tugging them down to your thighs along with the flimsy cotton panties you had on. “A little warning would help.” You bite back, finally losing patience at his tactless gestures.

Joel meets your gaze through the mirror. A lopsided smirk quirking up his lips. “Right. My bad.” You could feel the disingenuity in his tone before he taps the length of his cock against your lower back. The gesture almost mocking.

A shudder runs down your spine. He was big, unlike anything you’ve experienced before.

He hikes your hip backwards and flush against him. Your palms instinctively clutches around the edge of the table. Joel takes his time, sliding his hard cock between the softness of your thighs. The sensation nearly sends you doubling over. Watching the weeping tip poke through in the reflection, slightly smearing his precum on your clit.

You squeeze your legs together subconsciously, earning a wince from him. He was certain he could come just from fucking your thighs like this. The pace he took now bordered on torturous. Teasing you with everything but giving you nothing.

You took it upon yourself to stretch your hands between your thighs in an attempt to notch him in you. You were aching. Badly.

Joel lets out a grunt of disapproval, yanking your wrist to pin it behind your back. Leaving you to steady your body weight onto your other hand. “Eager little thing. Daddy ain’t ever teachya patience?”

His snark burned in your cheeks. It was a futile effort. He could see every single expression you were making from your reflection and he fucking thrived on it. Joel takes a hold of his cock, lining it up against your soaked cunt, he slowly drags your slick over his length. You were soaking him before he even started.

Your head dips, clinging onto the fleeting pleasure every time the tip of his cock bumped against your clit.

“Joel–please just fuck me...”

So he does.

Before you could even catch your breath, he snaps his hips into you. “Deep breath f’me, sweetheart.” If not for his grip around your wrist, you would’ve probably face planted into the dresser.

The sting from the intrusion of his thickness had your cunt tightening with every move he makes, squeezing the absolute life out of his dick.

Your hair falls in front of your face as he mercilessly fucks you. You swore you could feel him almost grazing the entrance of your cervix. “T-Too..too fucking...big.”

Joel tips his head at the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock, probably only halfway. He doesn’t say anything yet. Only humming at your whines. “I know baby.”

You look down shakily at where the both of you were connected, the lines between pain and pleasure blurring to the point you hadn’t registered the tears prickling the corner of your eyes. “Hurts…”

Joel seems to feel a tinge of empathy at the way you were struggling to take him, hiccuping through your whines. His gaze flickers to the way your pretty little face scrunched up, doing your fucking best like the good girl you were. A slight groan leaves his lips involuntarily.

All rationality be fucked.

His hand grips around your throat, forcing you to look up at the mirror.

As humiliating as it was, you couldn’t help but feel increasingly turned on at the sight of his cock fucked into your dripping pussy in squelches. “See that? Takin’ me so ’fuckin’ well.” He sighs into your shoulder.

The praise has you lifting your hips higher, on your tippy toes–forcing a deeper arch at your hips. With how slick your thighs were, you weren’t even sure yourself if you did come.

Nothing but the sounds of his pelvis snapping into your ass in rhythmic, hard slaps. He buries his head in the crook of your shoulder. And you hear him audibly grunt this time. Thrusting into you at a punishing pace.

Joel could feel the all familiar tightening in his sack, he knew he was close. The sheer suction your soft, slick walls were providing him was nothing he’d ever felt before. He lets go of your throat, both palms gripped around your hips, painful enough to leave a mark. The table rattles under your combined weights and Joel’s frantic thrusts, products rolling and clattering onto the ground. He noses your cheeks, stubble rubbing against your pulse point. “Perfect fuckin’ pussy…”

You offer a slight whimper at his words, meeting the intensity his thrusts weakly. You both still at the shuffle of footsteps approaching the trailer.

The sharp knocks against the trailer door has the both of you whipping your head towards it.

“Everything okay?”

Your heartbeat thuds in your ears loudly. The door wasn’t locked.

Joel doesn't answer, simply looking at you. Your expression twists in frustration. Mouthing the words ‘me?’. There wasn't time to deliberate. Your lips parts to speak, barely able to form coherent words. “Y..yeah. A-All good.”

“Right…productions cutting it close. So if Joel’s oookaaay…”

You cursed internally at how persistent whoever behind the doors was. But you nearly see white when Joel fully slams into you. Deeper than before. You couldn’t control the sharp cry that leaves your lips, but it is soon muffled by Joel’s rough palms covering your mouth.

“M’fine. Give us ten.”

Your tears pool around his hand. Gripping onto his wrists when he continues to pound into you at a faster intensity. You were whining by the time the crewmate finally left. Joel pulls you against his chest. Audibly groaning into your ears now. “Fuck. M’close.”

You nodded dumbly, not even sure just what at anymore. Shaky hands clinging onto him like a lifeline. With a final rut, his hips stutter, ropes of his cum painting the insides of your walls.

He held it there for a couple of seconds before pulling out. All messy and soaked with your arousal.

You let out a strained exhale at the feeling of loss as your pussy convulses around nothing, pearlescent liquid dripping from your reddened cunt.

Joel sighs wantonly at the sight. With the state of you, he was briefly worried that he might’ve gone too hard. And then he sees it. Your smaller, manicured hands, pushing more of his dripping come into your folds. Yeah. Joel was fucked.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel x reader #pedro pascal smut #joel the last of us

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josephscoat · 3 days ago

Text

The Budgerigar Burglars

"A little birdie told me something..."

@professorcalculusstanaccount, thank you for doing the promotional/cover art of the story!! I would also like to thank them for bouncing ideas with me and subsequently proof/beta reading chapter 1 ― they’ve been very supportive and encouraging.

While I was unable to post on the actual dates I set up due to some personal reasons on my end, I will *hopefully* have it out sooner or later.

As a sort of teaser 2, here’s the first 101 words of The Budgerigar Burglars by @professorcalculusstanaccount and me, Jo :> !

Tintin was Bobbie’s most expensive drunken purchase.

He can’t remember much from the night he got the cockatiel, much less how he got his name― he just woke up with a pounding headache one morning, to a bird singing showtunes in his ear, in the dilapidated state of their (once shared) apartment.

Recalling past events, it was the night they’d finally settled for the divorce; his then wife was packing her belongings, planning to head off to who knows where and Bobbie was drinking enough spirits that could turn him into a spirit, if he kept at it for too long.

When the full thing does come out, I plan post it on to AO3 and post a link to the fic here on Tumblr.

For slightly more info on what the story and AU is about, click on to here to visit teaser 1 which is also the current pinned post of my blog!

#the adventures of tintin #tintin #snowy | milou #tintin et milou #the many misadventures of monsieur milou and cocka-tin #tmmommac au #the budgerigar burglars #dividers are by @inklore btw!!#kabado bente si ate gurl niyo guys #charot lang mas matatanda pa ang karamihan sa inyo kaysa sakin hahah...

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silverolivia-upsidedown · 2 days ago

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Yessss! Let us drown the fic writer in kudos! I want them to know that I read every chapter and loved it enough to leave one!

I mean, I also try very hard to leave a comment at every chapter that stood out to me too. So... almost every chapter some times 😆

i wish ao3 allowed people to give kudos per each chapter. These 100k word NOVELS need more love than 200 tiny digital hearts ☹️

#ao3 #fanfic #archive of our own #fanfiction #writing things #writing #reading fanfic

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mariasont · 1 day ago

Note

I know youre working on a fic right now but can you sometime make a fic where a new agent comes to work at the bau (the reader) and early seasons Spencer catches her interest, to which he's completely oblivious? Like just a cute little fluffy fic where two genius idiots can realise they like each other throughout their case together.

(also a lot of jokes from Morgan lol)

Reading Between the Lines - S.R

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x reader

warnings: reader just being in love with dr. reid

wc: 1.2k

The two of you were alone in the police station break room, which had become something of unofficial workspace for the team during the case. You'd been sitting there for a while, mostly pretending to read through a file while Spencer, across the table, actually read his—flipping through pages faster than should be humanly possible.

You'd been watching him out of the corner of your eye for the last ten minutes, trying (and failing) to keep your focus on your own. You couldn't help it. He was enthralling to watch. His long fingers moved smoothly over the paper, turning each page with that ridiculous speed-reading technique of his. And when he tilted his head slightly, his eyes scanning the words so quickly it looked like he was barely reading at all, you were sure you'd never seen anyone more unfairly attractive in your entire life.

And you did mean unfairly in the purest sense. It was undeniably unfair—no, unnatural—for a man to possess such a perfect plethora of qualities, like Spencer Reid did.

You hated how obvious you were being. Every time Spencer glanced up at you, your face grew hot, and you had to fight the urge to duck your head like a nervous schoolgirl. It was absurd. You were a grown adult—a professional in the FBI, for gods' sake. You had no business mooning over someone this hard. But... it was Spencer. How could anyone not?

Eventually, you gave up trying to work and leaned forward on the table, resting your chin on your hand. "How do you do that?"

Spencer glanced up, blinking. "Do what?"

"Read that fast," you said, gesturing toward the file in his hands. "I mean, it's like you're just flipping through the pages for fun, but you're actually... reading them, right? You're not just pretending?"

Spencer tilted his head, his lips twitching into a smile. "No, I'm not pretending. I'm absorbing the information. It's called speed-reading."

You raised an eyebrow. "And you just... taught yourself how to do that?"

He nodded, setting the file down in front of him. "It's not as hard as it looks. Anyone can learn it with enough practice."

"Anyone?"

"Anyone," Spencer said, leaning back into his chair. "It's all about training your brain to recognize patterns in the text and absorb information in chunks rather than word by word. It's just a matter of rewiring how you process what you're reading."

You stared at him for a moment, then a grin spread across your face. "Teach me."

Spencer blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Teach you?"

"Yeah," you said, sitting up straighter. "If anyone can learn it, prove it. Teach me how to speed-read."

For a second, he just stared at you, like he wasn't sure if you were serious. But then his expression morphed into something that looked almost... excited. "Okay. I can teach you."

You tried not to look too pleased as he reached for a book sitting on the nearby counter and slid it across the table toward you. It was some dry academic text about linguistic patterns across extinct languages—typical Spencer reading material—but you figured it didn't really matter what the book was. You weren't here for the content.

"Alright," Spencer said, pulling his chair closer to yours so he could see what you were looking at. He leaned in, his shoulder brushing yours, and every single coherent thought you had ever had evaporated into thin air. You swallowed hard, staring at the page but unable to actually read anything. "The first thing you need to do is stop subvocalizing."

"Sub... what?" you asked, already lost.

"Subvocalizing," he repeated patiently. "It's when you say the words in your head as you're reading them. Most people do it without even realizing it, but it slows you down. If you can train yourself to read without subvocalizing, you'll process the text much faster."

You nodded slowly, though you weren't sure you entirely understood. "Okay. So... how do I stop?"

Spencer smiled. "It takes practice, but one way to start is by using your finger to guide your eyes. Like this."

He reached out and gently took your hand, guiding your index finger to the first line of the text.

Your brain short-circuited for a second. His hand was warm, touch light as he moved your finger along the page. Did he notice the way you tensed up? Did he feel how clammy your palm was? If he did, he didn’t mention it, his focus entirely on the page. Meanwhile, your focus was entirely on him.

"Try to keep your eyes moving with your finger," Spencer said. "Don't focus too much on each individual word—just let your brain take in the whole line."

Every time you inhaled, you caught the faintest hint of soap and coffee—clean, warm, him—and it was becoming impossible to think straight.

"Okay," you said softly, moving your finger along the line as he'd shown you. "Like this?"

"Exactly. Now, try to pick up the pace. Keep your eyes moving."

You tried, but your focus kept slipping—not because of the text, but because of the way Spencer was leaning so close, his shoulder almost brushing yours as he watched you. You could feel his breath, soft and even, against the side of your face, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that this was probably the closest you'd ever been to him.

"Am I doing it right?"

"Mostly," Spencer said, his hair brushing his forehead as he leaned even closer to point at a section of the text. His long fingers hovered just above yours, and your heart stuttered at the proximity. "But try not to pause at punctuation. Just keep your eyes moving in one fluid motion."

"Okay," you said again, though honestly, you weren't sure how much you were actually absorbing. Your brain was too busy screaming Spencer Reid is touching me. Spencer Reid is this close to me.

For a few more minutes, Spencer guided you through the process, his hand occasionally brushing yours as he helped you adjust your pace. You couldn’t tell if you were actually improving or if you were just doing your best to survive the moment without completely embarrassing yourself.

"You're doing better already," he said. "It just takes time to get used to."

You smiled back at him, cheeks warm. "Thanks. You're a good teacher."

Spencer’s ears turned pink, and he glanced down, his fingers brushing idly at the edge of the book. "I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before. A good teacher, I mean."

You couldn't stop smiling.

"Maybe next time, you can teach me," he said suddenly.

You laughed. "I don’t think there’s anything I could teach you that you don’t already know, Spencer."

"I wouldn’t be so sure about that," Spencer said, his voice quieter now, almost teasing. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and for a second, his eyes met yours, before flicking back to the book.

Correction, you wouldn't be able to stop smiling for the next 3-5 business days.

Morgan was leaning against the hallway wall just outside the break room, holding his phone and scrolling casually, when you finally stepped out of the room.

You didn't see him at first—you were too busy floating on a cloud, practically glowing as you replayed the last few minutes with Spencer over and over in your mind. You were smiling so much your cheeks hurt, and you could still feel Spencer's hands on yours.

"Well, well, well," Morgan voice cut through your daydream, startling you so badly you almost tripped. You snapped your head toward him, your heart jumping to your throat. He was grinning like a cat who'd just caught a mouse. "What's got you all smiley? Pretty boy say something sweet, or are you just thinking about those magic hands of his?"

You felt your face burst into flames. "What? No! It's not—"

Morgan held up a hand, shaking his head as he chuckled. "Save it, girl. I know the look of a lovesick rookie when I see one. Trust me—you've got it bad."

You sputtered, desperately trying to come up with a convincing rebuttal, but Morgan was already walking away. "Better make your move before he speed-reads right past you!"

You groaned, burying your burning face in your hands as Morgan’s laughter faded down the hall. Lovesick rookie? Was it really that obvious?

Yes. Yes, it was.

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @broadwaytraaaaash @r-3dlips @m-indkiller @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @reiderrambles @averyhotchner @hbwrelic @sky2nd @messylxve @alexxavicry @doigettokeepyou @pleasantwitchgarden @kodzukenmaaa @hiireadstuff @dilflover-3 @spenciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @c-losur3 @theylovemelody @alahnizamolo @oliver-1270 @ssahotchbabe @savagemickey03 @justanotherbimboslxt @imoonkiss @spiderladyleah @estragos @khxna @spencerssoup @de-duchess @raysmayhem-72 @piinksdoll @reidfile @sugarbutterbailey @aecd27 @persephonestears @moonyxstars @xxmooxmooxx @spookyysinsanity @proxxyshouse @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @jungchloee @she-wont-miss @duchesz @i2rapunzel @historicallyweirdandqueer @lcvealwayss @p13rc3-th3-m4tt13 @babyhoneybyhs

join my taglist here!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #reid #dr reid

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kiragecko · 3 days ago

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Authour’s Voices

I read fic for voice before anything else. Plot, tropes, canon compliance – they all pale in comparison to the word crafting. But voice is hard to describe, and referencing certain verbal tics is more likely to make an authour self-conscious than it is to flatter. So, here's my best attempt to describe the voices of some of my favourite fanfic authours – focusing on tone, subject matter, and the feelings they provoke, in a hope that I can get across at least a hint of how they sound.

@suzukiblu / suzukiblu / Rin (I read for DCU, Young Justice TV, Avatar)

REALLY intertwines characters thoughts and feelings in compelling ways. Inner monologues are a particular strength. Digs deep into what motivates characters and then lets them be insecure and angry because of those things. Writes REALLY close third person narration – ie. we are entirely in one person’s head, but the narration is using their name instead of saying ‘me.’ And we are ENTWINED in their head. Deeply. Maybe actually more in their chest - the emotions are visceral and immediate. Very cathartic angry/overwhelmed ranting is a feature. People learning that they have inherent value. Romance/sex that is based on strong connections, and goes far deeper than hormones. A strong understanding of canon, used to write alternate universes that are much richer for that knowledge. Stories are cathartic, and leave you washed clean and energized.

@whetstonefires / Kieron_ODuibhir (/ Kieron) (I read for DCU, The Untamed/The Other Versions Of This Story)

Thoughtful, empathic stories that feel like they’ve spent months being refined to perfection. Also incredibly strong understanding of canon, with a much higher chance of showing her work on the page. A gift for searching out the nagging, poorly fitting pieces of canon characterization, and integrating them in her fic in ways that makes rereading the original a better experience. Beautiful, haunting, sentences. Feels like poetry makes me feel. A writing style that ALMOST feels intellectual, but is actually incredibly empathic. The knowledge is the vessel that carries the ... love? Respect? Maybe respect, and care, and dignity, that she has for the characters she’s writing about. Stories leave you quiet and satisfied.

@galaxystew / galaxysoup (I read for Avengers/Thor, Supernatural)

Careful, emotional, deep stories. There is a sense of immenseness, that the story can’t go too fast or it would become unstoppable. DEEPLY moving, gut-wrenching, stories told from just enough emotional distance to avoid overwhelming the audience. But they also about taking time to rest, both for the characters and the audience. Focuses on exploring and healing damaged relationships, (and damaged people), and never goes for the easy/trite solutions. Unassuming language and imagery that grounds the sometimes epic elements of her canons. Stories leave you grateful – grateful that the characters have reached that place, and grateful you got to come along.

@teland / Teland / Te (I read for DCU)

Stories have only the vestigial remains of a narrator. Almost everything is verbal or mental dialogue, usually without tags. (Ie. things like ‘Tim said.’) This would be frustrating with most writers, but Te’s character voices are SO strong and distinct that a story can start with an unnamed person talking and you immediately know who it is. She focuses on aspects of characters that many other authours miss (though some of that could be survivorship bias – perhaps she was part of a zeitgeist that hasn’t been preserved). She gets DEEP into the psyches of the characters she’s writing, dissects them, and then has them dryly comment on their displayed innards. Excels at characters that are very disconnected from their emotions, but also at characters who live immediately IN their emotions. Strong themes of identity and found family, though not in the way ‘found family’ is usually used these days. Symbolic, projected family? Stand-in, or sublimated, or substituted family? Something in that area. A lot of sex, which is also standing in for other things. Electric, transformative stories, with extremely long chapters that are hard to escape from when the world tries to call you back. Stories leave you alive to the possibilities, and maybe knowing more about yourself.

@angel-gidget / angel_gidget / Gidge (I read for DCU)

There’s an optimism and joy to Gidge’s writing. A ... cleanness. Hmm, what do I mean? I ... I’m not actually sure? But it feels refreshing and space-making, to read a Gidge story. It feels like they SHOULD be humorous, with the effects they have, but that’s not actually the focus? It feels like they’re light, even when the topic is heavy and treated seriously. It’s a really special gift, what Gidge has. Maybe the correct term is ‘conversational’? Yeah, there’s a matter-of-fact, conversational tone to everything she creates, and it lifts your spirits every time you read it.

@vmohlere / owlet (I read for Avengers/Captain America)

Absolutely brilliant way of using humour to tackle difficult subjects. Stories are so funny and positive, that it’s hard to realize how dark the things referenced are. It helps that they usually don’t become explicit until the characters have mostly processed them, and they’ve been defanged of a lot of their power. I’ve never seen someone else accomplish this, and it blows me away. Incredible OCs. Deep empathy for character’s specific needs, and focusing on what THEY’RE ready to focus on. Boundaries are not only respected, but taught. And all of this is happening behind a wry, clever sense of humour that invites you in to hang out for a while. One of the most joyful reading experiences I’ve ever had. I’ve used scenes to walk myself through bad mental periods. And I still think about their work every time I make a grilled cheese.

#the way I described things varies between authours #partially because I wrote this over 2 days #and partially because I focus on different things when reading different people #Te and Rin and owlet have REALLY good sentences #but Kieron has really good paragraphs #and I struggle to break Gidge's writing down any smaller than the whole story #also I'm pretty sure galaxy stew/soup's stories have an aura that is outside of the fic itself and affecting me #how am I supposed to describe that?!?

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godmadeaterribleerror · 2 days ago

Text

Every Day That You Want

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pregnancy, pre-established relationship, marriage proposal

Summary/Warnings: You have big news for Dean. News you have to tell him, wether he likes it or not. You really hope he likes it, though.

Author's Note: Kind of a prequel to another fic of mine (Still You Want Me), but can be read alone. I just love putting big scary men in normal situations.

Word Count: 2.9k

You can do this. You’ve been to hell and back, you’ve killed angels, you’ve survived at least three apocalypses, and you’ve helped raise the Anti-Christ. This should, comparatively, be easy.

It’s not. It’s the most daunting and terrifying thing you’ve ever done. It’s just words, but you’re going to choke on them because they could ruin your life. You’ve rehearsed in front of the mirror until your voice didn’t sound like yours anymore and nothing you said seemed real. It had been like repeating the same one word over and over again, until it’s nothing but an odd sound. Until it meant nothing.

But this has to mean something. You have to be able to say this to Dean, and you have to try and not get lost in the possibilities of how he’ll respond. He won’t leave you—Dean would never leave you—but he might tell you he doesn’t want this, and then you’ll have to make a choice. You don’t want to make a choice. You don’t want to hear Dean tell you that, with the lives you lead, this wouldn’t be a good idea. That it doesn’t matter what either of you want, because this isn’t something you get to have.

You want to have this, though. You want to have Dean and the baby. You want to have him as you’ve always had him before—strong and tired, always fighting because it’s all he knows how to do, but resting his head on your chest in the dark and humming against your lips when he kisses you—but you also want to have him in this new way. Where he’d smile for more reasons than just you and Sam and Cas. Where he’d get to direct some of that undying loyalty to someone who’d never be ungrateful, who’d would see him as a hero in a way he might finally believe.

He’d be so good at it. Dean would spoil the kid, and teach them everything he knew, and care for them more than he’d ever care for himself. It breaks your heart sometimes, how he doesn’t kill himself for Sam, and he doesn’t drink himself to death for Cas, and he tries to get better for you, but he still doesn’t really know how to look in the mirror and not see a shadow.

And this would be the piece of him that’s never been tainted. The piece of him that crawls over you in bed just to hold you, that still watches cartoons and gets excited when he sees a cool car or hears an awesome drumline. The part of him that still cares, against all odds, and cares so much you’ve been worried it would kill him. The part of him that’s so simply made of light and love, crushed under years of his soul being bruised and beaten.

A part of him that won’t break. A part of him you love just as much as the rest of his wreckage, but that you still try to tend to, because you’ll love him the same if it vanishes, but you don’t think he deserves that. Dean deserves to only have that piece of him expand, to have it absorb all the love you throw at him, to grow until he can see it too. Until he can believe it’s there.

You know that it’s all so fucking hard. That Dean will never be all light, but you wouldn’t ever expect him to be. You know that a baby won’t fix him, not by far, but you also know it will show him he can create something. That he doesn’t poison everything he touches.

That he made something entirely good, with you.

And if he tells you he doesn’t want this, you’ll live with that. You’ve lived with worse.

But you don’t even want to try to live with it. You’ll probably have to, but you’d like to pretend you won’t.

The most you’re daring to pray for is that he doesn’t freak out. But angels don’t really take your calls anymore.

So you’ll just have to hope.

You’ve set this up perfectly. There’s a pie in the oven that you will not let burn. There’s bacon and pancakes on a plate waiting for him when he finally gets his ass up. You have the whole bunker to yourself, because Sam’s off to see Eileen.

You’re not allowed to tell Dean that—Sam says he gets annoying—but you will in order to get him in a better mood. Sam’s fatal mistake was believing that you wouldn’t do anything to make Dean happy. So this is really on Sam. He’s the one that introduced you to Dean in the first place. Just because you were his friend first doesn’t mean he didn’t lose your automatic allegiance the moment he said this is my brother and his brother was the hottest man you’d ever seen.

Sam should’ve known better. His big head should’ve understood that letting you anywhere near Dean—let enough so close that you’d be allowed to fall in love with him—would have always resulted in you using his secrets against him to make Dean happy, so you could slip in the fact that you were pregnant with Dean’s baby as easily as possible.

Like any sane person would.

Although you have been up for hours, after only sleeping two. And you might be losing your mind. But anyone would lose their mind in a situation like this. Waiting for their dumb boyfriend to wake up so they can change his life forever.

But Dean’s still asleep. You’re starting to get worried. He usually sleeps in late, especially after hunts, but not this late. Not past noon, long enough for you to stress eat half of his pie, then make a whole second one. Not long enough for the coffee to go cold three times.

You’re about to go check on him when he appears in the kitchen door. Bleary eyes and mussed hair, his glazed eyes focusing slightly when they land on you.

He starts to shuffle towards you, and you forget everything you’d rehearsed. He looks sleepy and adorable, and you’ve seen him like this before but you’d like to see it a million times more. You’d like Dean to always drop his head on your shoulder and wrap his arms around your torso, to always slump over you with a low hum. To always kiss the crook of your neck and let out a long breath when your hands snake around his neck and your fingers tangle in his soft hair.

You could have him like this forever.

You just have to tell him.

“Dean-“

“Why’re you up.” He speaks against your skin, his voice slurring slightly, tugging you a little closer. “’S early.”

“It’s 3pm, baby.” You draw back to smile at him, and he just blinks at you. “You’ve been knocked out for fourteen hours.”

He shakes his head, pouting slightly as he takes your hand in his. “Nah. Doesn’t feel it. C’mon.”

Dean starts to walk away, taking you with him, and you’re snapped out of the daze.

“Wait,” You pull on his grip, and he turns with a frown. “Where are you going?”

“We’re goin’ back to bed.”

You give him an amused look, your affection briefly overpowering your panic. “We?”

He nods, tugging your hand in his until you’re pressed right against his chest. “Only up ‘cause you weren’t there. Need to get my girl back to bed, you need sleep too-“

You do need sleep, but until you tell Dean, you might as well be injecting caffeine right into your bloodstream.

“But I made you bacon-“

“Course you did.” He grins, pressing a light kiss to your nose. “You’re awesome, baby.”

You feel your stomach flutter, and at this stage it has to only be nerves, but that doesn’t make anything easier. “Can we please eat?”

Dean hums, scanning carefully over your face. “You eat already?”

“I had some applesauce-“

“Then we’re good.” He starts to move again, and now you’re attached to him like a magnet. You couldn’t move away if you tried. “Bed.”

You’re frayed and wired and on edge, trying so hard to find the will to insist he stay and eat, but Dean’s so warm and suddenly you’re drunk on him. He’s sturdy and soft in all the right places, herding you back to bed with hands on your shoulders and mumbled praise about being his dream girl, making him bacon for breakfast and lovin’ him more than he deserves, and you wish you had enough backbone to just shout at him that he does deserve your love. He deserves whatever you can give him, including a baby that he needs to know about now before you explode.

But he gets you back into bed, splaying his body over yours and pinning you down.

“Didn’t see Sammy,” his head is buried in your chest, his voice muffled against your skin. “Where’dhe go?”

“Eileen’s.” You sigh, running your fingers through his hair. “I’m not supposed to tell you that, though.”

Dean chuckles, his hands drawing slow circles on your hips. “You’re a little backstabber, sweetheart. I’m never tellin’ you anything again.”

“I’m backstabbing Sam for you.” You shrug, smiling at the air. “I’d never backstab you.”

“’S exactly what a backstabber would say.”

You giggle. “You’re tired, Dean. Your brain’s not working right. Maybe if we get up-“

“Not getting up.” He grunts, squeezing your body. “Not until you get your own fourteen hours.”

“I’m okay, Dean-“

“No. Sleep.”

You sigh, squirming slightly under him. “You know, it’s bad for you to sleep in. It’ll mess up your circadian rhythm-“

Dean tilts his head up, frowning at you. “What’s going on with you?”

“I, um-“ You swallow, your whole body suddenly far too warm. “Huh?”

“You always make me sleep extra after hunts.” His voice is a little stronger, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Why’re you suddenly trying to get me up?”

“Nothing’s going on-“

“No.” Dean’s sitting up now, rolling onto his back and pulling you over his lap, his gaze stern. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong either-“

He says your name, squeezing your waist as he rubs his jaw. “Please just tell me. If it’s a body we can hide it, but I need to know if it’s a monster body or person body-“

“Why the hell would it be a person body-“

“I dunno, but if it is you gotta tell me, so I can grab the salt.” He cups your cheek, offering you on his charming, downright boyish grins. “I’m not letting any ghosts haunt your hot ass, babygirl.”

“Thank you.” You mumble, dropping your brow to his. “But it’s not a body.”

“So there is something.”

“Yeah.” You whisper. “But I… I’m not-“

“Hey,” Dean leans back, holding your gaze as he tucks some hair behind your ear. “Whatever it is, I don’t care. I’m helping you.”

You swallow, squeezing your eyes shut. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, like it’s simple. Like this will really be that easy. “For you? Always.”

It takes deep breathes, and hands curled in Dean’s t-shirt—gripping him hard, making sure he won’t fly away or vanish into the air when you speak—but you do it. You run over your entire rehearsal one last time and let it all go, because Dean’s right here, in front of you, and you just need to-

“I’m pregnant.”

You say it, and he doesn’t vanish into nothing. Dean just stares at you, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them, and whispers, “With a baby?”

“Yeah, Dean.” You offer him a small smile. “A baby.”

“My- my baby?”

You open your mouth with a slight frown, and Dean’s hand flies to cover your mouth before you can speak.

“Wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just-“ He groans, his eyes seeming to drive right into your soul as his voice because hoarse. “You’re sure? That you’re… growing one?”

You wish you could read him better right now. You’d laugh at him saying growing one.

Instead you just nod, and it’s like something flips in Dean. He grins—wide and toothy and unrestrained—and you barely have time for the relief to hit when he’s kissing you. Long and deep and passionate, until you’re dizzy and grinding down onto him, falling over his chest and clinging to his shoulders.

“Dean,” you gasp as he dives down to kiss a line over your collarbone. “Shouldn’t we, shit-“ He starts suck on a soft spot behind your ear, and all your exhaustion is starting to catch back up with you, so everything is really just a haze. “Don’t we need to talk-“

“No,” he mutters, rutting slightly up into you and chuckling against your skin when you whine. “Just need you, baby, need to- son of a bitch!”

Dean’s yanks himself up and twists to his bedside table—his hand on your hips holding you steadily against him—scrambling around the drawers as he mutters low words you can’t hear.

“Are you okay?” You ask, your hand fisting in his shirt once more. “I mean, I know you might have doubts about-“

You’re cut off as Dean surges back up to kiss you again, this one shorter and soft, but still firm.

“No doubts, sweetheart.” He mutters against your lips. “And I’m better than okay. I’m fucking amazing.”

“Good.” You sigh, pulling back to scan over his face. “What was that, then?”

Dean smiles at you, and it’s… nervous. He’s almost never really, truly nervous, but this smile has no edge, no carefully designed charm. It’s just Dean, purely him, smiling at you like you’re holding his heart in your body.

You kind of are.

“I know I, uh, I don’t say it enough. You know I’m not good at saying it. But I do love you,” Dean says your name, and you blink at him. This sounds like a speech. “I love you so much it drives me insane. And I’d never want this, want a baby, with anyone but you. But, I, uh, I want all of this. Whole stupid, apple pie thing, just with you.” He takes a long breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “Marry me.”

You gape at him. “What?”

“Marry- shit, wait-“ Dean reaches slightly behind him, grabbing a small box, and pops it open with his thumb. There’s a diamond ring inside, and it looks like a real one. Not the ones you’d use on cases, that would give you a rash for a week after. This looks… carefully made.

Made for you.

“Dean-“

“Marry me?” Dean looks between your slack jaw and the box, his voice almost nervous. “Please?”

“I-“ This is going better than you could’ve ever even imagined. You’re not sure how to handle it. “I don’t want you to marry me just because you knocked me up-“

“Baby, I didn’t pull this ring out of my ass.” He drawls, his voice a little firmer. “I’ve been getting ready to ask you for months. I was going to kick Sammy out next week, make a picnic in the library-“

“Really?”

“Yeah, I-“ He frowns. “Why’d you think I was poking about your ring size?”

“I don’t, um, I don’t remember you doing that.”

Dean laughs, shaking his head slightly. “That’s good. I was worried I ruined it. I, um-“ he glances down at the ring, his face falling back to the nerves, and you realize you haven’t actually answered him yet. “I haven’t-“

It’s your turn to kiss Dean, and these words aren’t difficult to say at all. “Yes,” you whisper, pressing another, smaller kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll marry you.”

“Awesome.” He grins, and the ring is barely on your finger when he’s diving back into you, kissing you until you can’t ever remember anything has been difficult in your life.

You yawn right as Dean pulls away, and he chuckles.

“You alright, sweetheart?”

You hum, nodding. “I’m good. So good. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Dean says your name in your ear, and it’s quiet and gentle. Not like a secret, but a promise. “How’s a day in bed sound? We can try and get you pregnant again.”

“That’s not how it works, babe.” You giggle, folding a little deeper into his hold. “I’m gonna have to buy you some books.”

“I’ll read them.” Dean kisses the top of your head, and you can feel his smile on your skin. “For you.”

“Thank you.”

“Course.” He sighs, squeezing your body slightly. “We’re having a fucking baby.”

“Yeah.” You smile, and there’s that piece of him, shining on the surface. All joy and wonder for something that’s really just good. “We are.”

End Note: Dean Winchester in my head this is indeed the life you live every day. Season 15 isn't real it can't hurt me.

Title from Waste by Foster the People

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Taglist

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature @sthefferrete @lyarr24

@deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @elle14-blog1

@impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @itsdearapril @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused

@arcticwisteria @generalmoonpolice @foxyjwls007 @jackles010378 @godhelpthisbtch

@ilovedeanwinchester4 @sleepykittycx @immastealurkneecaps @star-yawnznn @maddie0101

@chi-raz @lori19 @wynnthewynnderful

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babeluda · 21 hours ago

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Also, because I read it in a fic and it tickled me: if you had a subtitled VHS, those subtitles were not removable. They were always there. And there was a different VHS per language, and if you wanted a dubbed version that is yet another tape.

Younger writers. Please, just know that you could not skip to different songs on a cassette tape, that’s CDs. With tapes you pressed fast forward or rewind and prayed.

Also, VHS tapes did not have menu screens. Your only options were play, fast forward, rewind, pause, stop, or eject.

Y’all are making me feel like the crypt keeper here, I’m begging you 😭

#obsolete media

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onceinablueberrymoon · 1 day ago

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made for this | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

scenario: pregnant!reader has a doctor’s appointment and wants to help husband!salesman by recruiting some new players at the clinic. the salesman has a different idea in mind… setting: a couple months after the events of season 1; sequel to this but can be read as a stand-alone fic warnings: pregnant!reader; a bit of spice and a lot of fluff; both reader and salesman feel morally superior to others; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 931 notes: thank you all for the love on the first part! i hope i didn’t make the salesman too ooc, i try to keep things as accurate to the show as possible! but i think he is somewhat capable of having soft moments, although very rarely. i have at least one more idea for this series (if it can even be called that), so be on the lookout for that ٩>ᴗ<)و (also if anyone has any ideas for this ship, send them my way!) please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Hey, can I borrow some business cards? I have an appointment at the clinic today and thought I’d pass some out.”

At your call, your husband walked into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the mirror next to your shared bed, adjusting your outfit for the day. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t think so. Any public involvement with the Games could endanger you,” his gaze lingered on your swollen stomach. He sighed, “You can’t defend yourself in your condition, no matter how much you think you can.”

You just rolled your eyes and shot him a piercing look.

“My pregnancy doesn’t impact my job, though. I can take care of myself just fine.” You took a couple steps towards him. “Who’s the one who befriended Gi-hun again? You?” You looked around the room before you pointed at yourself.

“Me, that’s who,” you grinned proudly, only for your husband to cover his face with his hands, his patience clearly running thin.

“Besides,” you shrugged, “it’s not like I’ll be playing ddakji and smacking people. No, my dear husband, that’s your thing.” You brought a finger up to your lips.

“I have my own ways to play.” You flashed a wicked smile towards your husband, causing him to shiver.

Right there and then, you knew that you had won the battle.

…or so you thought.

In the blink of an eye, your husband swept you off your feet and pinned you on the bed with only one arm. Your startled expression pleased him judging by the wild look on his face. His unoccupied hand came to gently press on your growing stomach, adding to the tense situation. He brought his lips up to graze your ear.

“See how vulnerable you are? Just think,” he lightly bit at your helix, “others won’t be so nice.”

It was your turn to shiver.

When you didn’t respond, he continued nibbling at your ear with his hand still firmly planted on your belly.

Soon after, he lifted his head and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He kissed you deeply, only breaking away to gasp for air. The most smug expression was plastered on his face.

“Oh wait, I do.”

How cheeky of him. And cheesy, too!

You huffed, “Wow, already starting with the dad jokes? And not even the good ones either.” His eyebrow quirked upwards before he bent down to press his nose against yours.

“Do you really want to play this game?” He whispered softly, causing you to shudder. “You know I always win.”

Turning your head to the right, you let out a small chuckle.

“Oh really?” You retorted, “Prove it.”

This sent him into a borderline frenzy as he started planting kisses down the side of your neck. You threw your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. Sometimes it was just too easy to manipulate him.

As he was about to leave a mark, a sharp movement stopped him in his tracks. He blinked, snapping out of his trance. You were both confused when there was another movement, although not as sharp as the first.

The two of you looked down at your rounded stomach, and your husband removed his hand. The baby’s kicks continued nearly every minute, while you both just watched, not moving a muscle. Then, your husband lifted himself up off of you, moving to sit on the bed beside you. You sat up and, taking one of his hands, gently laid it on your stomach. Your husband carefully wrapped an arm around you, now acting as if you were made of glass.

“They’re so active. Do you think,” he paused, then in a whisper, asked, “Do you think I hurt them?”

“No… I think they’re just making themselves known,” you kissed him on the cheek.

Both of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, only to soon realize that you were now running late for your appointment.

“Is there any chance I can still get those business cards?” You pleaded.

Your husband chuckled, “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ll accompany you.”

“I thought we weren’t allowed to be seen together in public?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

He let go of you and turned to open his briefcase at the foot of the bed. Pulling out some files, he nodded, “There’s quite a few prospective players residing at that hospital. You attend your appointment, I’ll recruit more players.” He flashed his signature smirk, putting the files back in his briefcase.

“Wow, I thought you wanted to come to my appointment with me!” You laughed, giving him a light shove.

Your husband gave you a knowing look, “I can’t do that. But I expect a copy of the sonogram.” He stood up, holding out a hand for you to take.

“What a gentleman.” You took his offer and stood up.

Placing a hand on your husband’s chest, you teased, “Try to take it easy at the hospital, hm? Most of the prospects there are already on the verge of cracking. We don’t want to break them before the Games – it wouldn’t make for a good show.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, your husband pouted, “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Giving them a tiny sliver of hope, only to eventually rip it away…” You looked him straight in the eyes. “The suspense is so thrilling, don’t you think?”

“And here I was starting to think you weren’t cut out for the job,” he chuckled. He checked his watch, noting the time.

“We should get going – it’s rude to be late.”

a/n: by the way, i don’t think i have it in me to write full-on smut, the most i can probably do is a bit of lime lol

tags: @preppyfella

#the salesman x reader #the recruiter x reader #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #squid game x you #the salesman #the recruiter #squid game fanfic #gong yoo x reader #reader insert #the recruiter squid game #the salesman fluff #the salesman x you #pregnant reader

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linddzz · 1 day ago

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Sat here and combed through all your jayvik analysis posts giggling and kicking my feet but PLEASE tell me more about the whole dom/sub thing, especially the whole “they have absolutely not discussed that this is the dynamic, it just happens and neither of them acknowledge it” because that is genuinely so interesting. Like I could already tell Viktor had hella ‘quiet calm collected dom’ vibes especially compared to jayce’s ‘excited protective puppy who would FOLD at being called a good boy’ energy…

But the whole bit on the bridge where Viktor smacks his hand away without even looking? And Jayce EARNS BACK TOUCHING PRIVELEGES? Fucking scrumptious please tell me more.

god i need to get to writing my fic bc I feel like "talk more about it" would be solved just by me dropping the link This ended up being TOO LONG so I split it between me going feral about that bridge scene and then me going feral at other moments of nonverbal communication that I use to feed my Dom/sub "oh you two are just LIKE THAT" interpretation. So. here's part one

That bridge scene tho...im so normal about it

hhhggg god that bridge scene is one that I rotate in my brain so much because it is such a small moment that makes so much of their dynamic click. For me, specifically, it clicks the "submissive like a guard dog is submissive" dynamic, where Jayce is, on a surface level, the stronger and more forceful of the two while Viktor is the one actually holding the leash (until he's too tired to because he's dying, and I only half joke when I say that their issues at the end of season 1 are because Jayce is suddenly the equivalent of a dog holding it's own leash and getting stressed out about it.

Jayce's touching before the bridge come across as pretty overbearing honestly. He's holding his hand out to keep Viktor from speaking out...

Heck, while the still screenshot doesn't show it too well, Jayce slings an arm around Viktor with enough force that it knocks Viktor off balance for a second and shoves him forward a little.

Viktor got dragged to the hexgate when Jayce is looking into shipping discrepancies happening there, even though it obviously doesn't involve him and he does NOT want to be there.

(In hindsight this is a hilarious bit of showing that it did not occur to either of them that there's no goddamn reason for Viktor to be here. This is council business, Jayce outright says "I'm a councilor now Viktor" which does not answer why tf Viktor needs to be there. these twits just handle all problems as a unit lmao. The tragic flip is that this is could then be a breaking moment when Viktor goes back to the lab, realizing that him and Jayce are not, in actuality, a single unit anymore. because Jayce got a second job that is not Lab With Viktor oh my god you codependent dweebs)

Up until that point it would be really easy to see Jayce as being presumptive and unintentionally overpowering Viktor in personality. Heck, it's what I thought the dynamic was as I was watching Season 1, though even as I thought that it seemed somehow...not quite correct.

And then the bridge scene.

Even before the hand-smack, there's a flip on the reading up to this point that Jayce has been accidentally bowling over Viktor by force of personality/physicality. Jayce comes in hot, upset, angrily standing over Viktor and chewing him out, and Viktor is just like "....and??"

Viktor is calm if baffled and annoyed at Jayce's frustration (also; Viktor just rolling his eyes and shaking his head at the actual riot happening a few yards away? hilarious. i love him.) His almost nonchalantly confused tone when he asks "what difference does that make?" always gets me. the entire back and forth says, to me anyway, that Jayce may be more brash and socially competent, but he's not overpowering Viktor at all, actually.

Viktor is going to do whatever the fuck Viktor wants.

This is immediately made clear by the much beloved hand smack. Viktor doesn't even look up, and his smack shows that he is perfectly capable of setting a hard boundary on Jayce's touching, and that Jayce will IMMEDIATELY fold and apologize when that boundary is set. That smack makes it suddenly clear that when Jayce goes for the shoulder touch right after apologizing, Viktor consciously allows it.

idk WHY but I also love this little tiniest moment when Jayce is going for the second touch. Viktor glances back as Jayce approaches him (looking like a cat with its ears pinned back lmao), then looks away as he accepts the second touch and they move on. It's such a tiny detail of showing Viktor, who is still pretty pissed at Jayce, seeing the touch as it comes in and then deciding to let it happen. im rotating them in my mind. please send help

In my framing of them being a guard dog/handler dynamic, the bridge scene is us seeing a moment of the leash getting a sudden sharp tug to bring the guard dog to heel. It resets all the earlier instances as being ones that Viktor allows to happen, because he doesn't see a need to correct it.

fuck man this doesn't even get into the bridge scene as a major crack between them as the moment Viktor loses his trust that Jayce will understand his decision. i am unwell

#arcane #jayvik #we are going back to 2014 tumblr era of analyzing body language frame by frame i am in my element #i think im the only one who loves that little side eye viktor shoots as Jayce goes for touch number two #he looks like a cat lashing its tail and considering another smack

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et6rnalsun · 2 days ago

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introducing … matt & chris: THE GHOSTFACE DUO 𓂂໋𓈒 ᯙ̷ best paired with YOU, unfortunately.

NO, PLEASE DONT KILL ME MR. GHOST FACE, — I WANNA BE IN THE SEQUEL !

[ BOSTON KILLERS ON THE LOOSE, you read as you lock all the doors. who would have ever thought that the killers in question were sitting on your couch, tho? ]

⠀⠀ⓘ⠀⠀ I. CHRIS / the possessive one. mind games by sicksick. i’m not a violent dog. cigarettes & weed. twenty— two night stands. touchy in a suggestive way. ‘i kiss you like i bite into an apple’. death; the ultimate orgasm. captivating eyes. warm, addicting touch. manipulation skills are top tier. bestfriend or something more. II. MATT / the stalker. in the night by the weeknd. she tastes like every dark thought i’ve ever had. n1 pervert. personality: cruel, sadist, and selfish. commit a sin twice. diabolically angel looking. aching to touch her. obsessive. tattoos like a second skin. love kinda gory.

A/N: this is obviously all fake. it’s an AU, alternative universe, so please keep this in mind! every fic will prolly contain problematic shit like a bit of violence, toxic behaviors and clear manipulation, stalking, etc. but we can say i’ve been out there cooking 🧑‍🍳 i’m veeeery excited to write these 2 crazy asses cuz they good, trust. ( NOT ROMANTICIZING ANYTHING. )

also, credits to whoever created this kind of au first !! i have no idea 😕

tags. @secretlocket @zweigsangel @waitforyrlove @sirenedeslily @rafespreciosa @zebonos @sosasturns @freshloveee @sturn777 @sweetestpoetic @jetaimevous @sturniolossss @ilovedanielcaesar @fallbhind @carvedtits

#𓏸𓈒 ⠀⠀✶⠀⠀ghostface! chris ෧ #𓏸𓈒 ⠀⠀✶⠀⠀ghostface! matt ෧ #ghostface au #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #fem reader #mdni #18 content #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo

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absurdthirst · 1 day ago

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The Photo Booth {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 22.9k

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

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

**Based off this NSFW Post

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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

|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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messenger-of-babel · 1 day ago

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Bruce Wayne Who...

Summary: Thoughts about your relationship with Bruce Wayne.

Word Count: 1.6K

Notes: So Sorry for the longgg absence. I won't explain it too much but I've had serious health complications that require me to go to the doctor weekly and I've been struggling with that a lot. Half of the Christmas event unpublished stories are done- but I don't want to upload them half baked. I will be uploading them around my original schedule of normal fics, so I'm so sorry this all happened while I was doing that Christmas Countdown. So if you see unseasonal content- that is why. I will ask to refer to the notes section of some of the fics before this. I will be trying to deliver more- please be patient and thank you for reading! (I'm working on my requests next so you'll seen them soon <333)

Love RiRi <3

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Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

had sworn off dating. Being a vigilante was enough work on his plate, and he had already involved too many innocent people. He had already made too many people join him in on his night life, like he was a black hole that sucked in anything around it and slowly suffocated its prey. The playboy image also helped him keep his cover up. After all, who could dare point a finger at Bruce Wayne and claim him to be the Bat, when he was spending the night at the Iceberg Lounge? How could he be the one tracking down criminals from Arkham when he had a supermodel on his arm at the mayor’s winter gala?

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

Has to throw that all out of the window the moment that he catches sight of you. When he meets your eyes for only a moment across the sea of people at the Gotham Museums grand reopening, to which he had donated personal items of his family's. His heart lurches in his chest and adrenaline courses through his veins like he's in a fight. You look away after a moment, but he stays fixed on your form as you disappear to talk to some of the curators. Bruce takes a deep sip of his champagne; mind muddled suddenly and distracted the rest of the evening as Alfred drives him home.