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wheresarizona · 11 days

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Learning to Live Part 34

summary: It’s time to celebrate your nuptials with your friends and family, where they’ll witness some of your firsts as husband and wife—first dinner, first dance. Hopefully, they won’t notice your first time sneaking away to fool around.

rating: E (18+!! This is very horny. No y/n, alternating POV, explicit smut, age gap (about ten years), two extremely horny newlyweds, Husband Javier Peña, sneaking around, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, vaginal fingering, car sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, wedding ring kink, getting cockblocked (multiple times), singing “Lay All Your Love On Me” by ABBA as foreplay, oral sex mention (f receiving), accidental voyeurism | overheard spit kink, overheard degradation, overheard mention of choking (spoiler - it’s Robyn and Seb fucking) | feelings, first dance, second dance, father-daughter dance, Javier being so in love, body insecurity, anxiety, Javier being cute with kids, Chucho wanting to be an abuelo so bad, Javier going into protector mode (with a gun), special appearances by Daphne and Velma)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 24k

a/n: I apologize for how long this took, but I’m happy to finally share it with you! There’s a lot of music referenced in this chapter, and instead of listing out each song, I’ve made a playlist of ALL the music mentioned in the wedding chapters. Huge shoutouts to @devineconjuring and @kilamonster for betaing! You are lifesavers!!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

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It was strange.

The man you married was a bit of a local celebrity, known by everyone in Laredo for the good and bad things he’d done in his past. With the town’s obsession with him came their intrusive interest in his personal life, which led to fascination when the chronic bachelor began dating you. It was a regular occurrence to be gawked at or to hear hushed whispers and constantly find yourselves as the subject of town gossip. Yet, all of that attention never bothered you—it was annoying, for sure, but it never made you nervous being in the spotlight as the other half of Laredo’s most talked-about couple. Frankly, you ignored it all and went on living your best life with the man you loved.

The thing you found strange was, that attention out in public from strangers? Not a problem. But when you were the center of attention amongst your friends and family on the happiest day of your life? Apparently, it was anxiety-inducing.

Why? If you had to guess, it was probably them seeing you so vulnerable—you weren’t masking what you were feeling; those at the ceremony watched you cry and heard you bare your soul to the love of your life. Now, everyone here was going to witness the first hours of your marriage: your first meal as husband and wife, your first dance, the two of you being so sickeningly in love that at some point tonight, your best friend Robyn will fake gag and call you both disgusting even though she was a hypocrite who had it just as bad for her boyfriend.

You weren’t nervous when you first got to Chucho’s to fix your makeup—the nerves hit when you saw the almost ninety people under the tent, and you thought about all the eyes that’d be on the two of you basking in your newlywed bliss.

And Javi knew you so well, he clocked your anxiety practically right out of the gate—he didn’t miss a beat giving you the reassurance you needed that you looked fine, he didn’t complain when you busied yourself with fussing over him to get your mind off the crowd, and he distracted you with his sweet singing and loving words. You had to admit, he was knocking this whole husband thing out of the park.

He had calmed you down, and knowing he would be with you every step of the way made it easier to walk to your table and made the attention much more bearable.

The clapping continued with the occasional whoop and holler, your entrance music still playing in the background, and the excitement was palpable. When it hit you that this tent full of people supported your relationship and were genuinely happy about your marriage, it choked you up, and it took everything in you to hold back your tears.

These were your real family and friends.

Javi’s lips were still at your ear after offering you an escape if you needed it, and you kissed his cheek, resting your hand on his bicep—emotion had your words coming out thick when you said for only him to hear, “I love you too, and thank you, babe. I’m so fucking happy we’re married; you’re literally the best husband in the entire universe.”

He was smiling when he straightened to meet your gaze, his large hands rubbing along your bare arms. “I’m really fucking happy we’re married, too. This is the greatest day of my life, and I’m so lucky ‘cause you’re the best wife in the entire goddamn universe.”

His response made you grin, circling your arms behind his neck, but he caught you off guard when you went in for a kiss—he pulled you into him, his arm around your torso like a band of steel, and as your lips met, he turned you, dipping you back while you kissed, his mouth swallowing your surprised sound.

There was an uptick in noise the first time you locked lips, but this time? It was downright thunderous with the combination of applause, whistling, and cheers; so many people were taking pictures that you’d think strobe lights were turned on from all of the bright flashes of light.

You held onto him for dear life as your mouths melded together, questioning in your head if his other hand on your ass was actually for support or if he was just copping a feel; it didn’t matter, though, because as quickly as he tipped you back, he was raising you, your lips separating for only a second to have you standing in front of him again and then he kiss kissed you.

It was one of those kisses that made your toes curl and your head go dizzy. Everything around you faded away until all that remained was you and Javi—nothing else existed except him. As he held you close, hugging you to his body, your lips touching and tongues intertwined, you ceased being two separate people and became one—one heart, one soul, one future. There was no you and him; it was you both together from this day until the end of time.

Unfortunately, the kiss had to come to an end, and you chased his lips when he broke away from you—Javier chuckled, the sound warm to your ears, and you smiled when he pecked the tip of your nose, then nuzzled it with his own, those baseball mitts he called hands holding your upper arms.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

You could feel the air move as he pulled back.

"You ready to sit down?"

Your eyes blinked open to find his tender gaze on you with a sweet smile beneath his perfect mustache.

“That’s probably a good idea; you have me feeling a little wobbly after that kiss.” You winked.

He smiled, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “Of course, mi amor.” He moved around you to pull out your seat, and you sat down, Javi pushing you in. He took the chair beside yours, and the moment he was seated, he made you giggle as he scooted, chair and all, closer to you until he was right against your side, his arm going over your shoulders—you were each drawn to the other, leaning into him as he leaned into you, looking at one another with smiles, sitting in your little bubble.

The sound had died down, and the music had ended. Diego spoke through the microphone, reading from a piece of paper, “Los novios quieren agradecer a todos los presentes por compartir este día tan especial con ellos y quieren agradecer especialmente al padre de Javier, Chucho, y a sus tías, María, Rebeca, y Lupita por toda su ayuda para organizar esta increíble fiesta. (The bride and groom would like to thank everyone present for sharing this special day with them, and especially want to thank Javier’s father, Chucho, and his aunts María, Rebeca, and Lupita for all their help organizing this incredible party). ¡Démosles un aplauso (Let’s give them a round of applause)!”

Everyone, including the two of you, clapped.

When you went to dinner with Chucho on Javi’s birthday and told him your wedding plans, your father-in-law insisted on paying for everything, which you both declined right away. This led to a bit of a heated argument in Spanish between your husband and his dad, where you discovered that in their culture, traditionally, the groom’s family paid for the wedding since he was the one to propose.

The only way Javi could placate his dad and later his tías, who were also gung-ho about paying for everything, was to let them all plan and put the event together on your dime—which was a great idea, given how perfectly it turned out.

“Y ahora (And now),” Diego continued, “es el momento de comer—for the English speakers in the house, that means it’s time to eat!”

The food was set up buffet style on the opposite side of the room, and people started getting up. With everything going on, your only meal all day had been breakfast that morning with your father-in-law. The rest of the time, you snacked and sampled the dishes being served; now that you were thinking about it, you realized you were hungry, your stomach growling in confirmation.

When you tried to push back your chair, Javi stopped you, and you looked at him confused. “Don’t get up,” he said. “I’ll get you food, mi amor.”

“I’m capable of getting my own food.”

“I want to get you food.”

An exasperated breath left you. “Fine. Thank you.” At your acquiesce, he smiled and quickly kissed you before getting up and heading across the room.

It was odd sitting at the table alone, and you took a second to see who all was here. Chucho and his sisters were the first to fill their plates because they were guests of honor. Almost all of Javi’s cousins were here, and a majority of the men were staying at their tables with their kids while their wives went to get food, including Danny, who had his toddler daughter, Sofia, in his lap and his four-year-old son in the chair beside him, their six-months pregnant mother standing in line.

The Murphys were over there, Connie carrying Nate on her hip and strategically holding a plate; Stevie stood between her and Steve, the father getting food for himself and his son, and Olivia was ahead of them all serving herself. Sebastián was taking a much-deserved break from recording, standing in line behind Robyn with his arms wrapped around her middle and whispering something in her ear that had her flushing and giggling.

You spotted your other friends from work, Gil and Luis, the latter coming with his wife Cat and their four kids, all under twelve. Javi’s old friends from high school, Anna, Benito, and Ken, were here with their families—Anna did all of the baked desserts. There was the family that ran El Mercadito, all five members present, and Sheriff Arturo with his wife. His and Javi’s assistant, Joy, was here, too, and she brought her roommate, a lovely girl named Jamie who drove a Subaru—something rare in Texas—and was wearing a stylish pantsuit with a shirt that complemented the color of Joy’s dress; they were such cute best friends.

People were patting Javi on his back and congratulating him, seeing his bright grin each time he looked back at you as he made his way to the opposite side of the room. You watched him beelining toward his tías and father, who were at the end of the buffet with their plates full of food, to speak to his tía María for just a moment; whatever she said made him chuckle and kiss her on the cheek. Then he walked to the back of the line, politely refusing anyone who told him to cut in front of them. He ended up between one of his tíos and Mrs. Pauletta Moore, who you first met at the Farmer’s Market when you started dating; every subsequent time you went to the market, you’d stop by her stall to chat because she was fun to talk to and you found it amusing that Javi got flustered when she inevitably brought up how handsome he was—you never made him suffer long, though. You always got him out of there after a minute.

What she was saying right now made him blush and glance over at you from across the room every few seconds with a polite smile, his big brown eyes screaming, ‘Help Me.’

His gaze was locked on yours, his mouth moving as he spoke to the older woman.You started to get up to save him, but he slightly shook his head at you, and you frowned, sitting in your seat again.

Things got better once it was his turn to get dinner. Minutes later, he returned to your table with two plates and immediately left to grab a couple of beers for you both. When he was finally back for good, he sat down and once again scooted himself as close to you as possible, his arm going over your shoulders again.

When it came to choosing the food for tonight, you and Javi only had two requests: you wanted there to be little BLT finger sandwiches, made how you liked them—swap out the mayo for garlic aioli, use arugula instead of lettuce, and add avocado—since the tomato for a BLT is how you met; the second request was that they used his mother’s recipes, which his tías happily agreed to.

The plate in front of you was loaded with a little of everything: a tiny BLT, three street tacos made with fresh, homemade tortillas, each filled with a different meat—Al Pastor, barbacoa, and carne asada—roasted pig, chiles rellenos, enchiladas mole, elote, a mini queso Oaxaca quesadilla, spicy rice, beans, a few extra tortillas, and some homemade salsas in little plastic cups.

“Thank you,” you told him, pecking him on the cheek.

His head turned to press his lips to yours, and he smiled into the kiss. “You’re welcome—I love you, my wife.”

You matched his expression. “I love you, too, my amazing husband. God, I love calling you that.” Your mouth left his, and you looked at him, his eyes on yours. “Can you believe we’re married?”

His free hand reached to grab your left, lifting it to kiss your rings. “I keep looking at my ring to make sure it really happened.” A happy sigh left him, and the expression on his face showed how much he loved you, the intensity of it making you go so soft there was a chance you’d melt like ice cream in the hot sun. “You’re my wife,” he said. “I have a wife. I’m your husband. And, shit, last week was our first shot at making a baby. I’m already on cloud nine, but imagine if we were successful.” He let go of your hand to put his palm on your stomach, and your heart squeezed at how excited he was about being married and potentially having a child—you really hit the husband jackpot. Javi kept speaking, “We could have a baby by the end of the year. Even if it doesn’t happen, this has been the best year of my entire fucking life because you married me.”

“Oh, Javi.” Your upper body twisted in his direction as your hands gently held his face, pulling him in to crush your lips to his, wanting him to feel your happiness, your love, and your hope that he was right about the addition of a tiny Peña by the end of the year. You agreed that even if a baby wasn’t in the cards for 1999, this had also been the best year of your entire fucking life because he married you.

When you broke the kiss, Javi’s cheeks were tinted pink, and he was smiling so big, his dimple was showing. After exchanging ‘I love yous’ once more, you both dug into your plates.

As expected, the food was incredible, and there was no way you’d be able to finish the plate, but you tried a little of everything, loving it all.

A comfortable silence fell between you two as you ate, and once the hunger in your belly subsided, you wiped your mouth with your napkin and asked, “What was Mrs. Moore saying that was making you uncomfy?”

He groaned around a bite, and as soon as he swallowed, he avoided looking at you, using his own napkin to clean his mouth. He answered, “She went on and on and on about how fantastic I looked and told me that if she were your age, she also would’ve snatched me up and married me as quickly as you did after the engagement.”

You giggled. “I’m sorry. I know you hate when she talks about how handsome you are.”

He sighed. “It’s fine, and I corrected her that I was the impatient one who wanted to get married so quickly.” He looked over at you and smiled. “She also congratulated us and said we’re a great match and a wonderful couple. She’s loved seeing our relationship grow and can’t wait for us to have kids, which she says will happen sooner rather than later.”

“‘Cause you’re such a hunk, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you?” You gently knocked your shoulder against his.

“With how you can’t keep your hands off of me? Apparently, I’m the biggest hunk in the entire fucking world.”

“Wow, your ego has been fed way too much today.”

He laughed and kissed your cheek. You felt his hot breath as he whispered in your ear, “Nothing to do with my ego, Cielito. I’m stating the truth; you can’t keep your hands off me, and you know what? I can’t keep my hands off you—when she said we’d have kids sooner rather than later, I agreed because it is my fucking mission to get you pregnant.”

Something about his determination had arousal igniting in your gut.

“Why do I find that so sexy?”

He kissed the sensitive spot behind your ear, and you trembled. “Because you married a hunk who can’t keep his hands off you.”

You giggled, turning your head to kiss him. “I married a ridiculous man,” you said into his lips, your eyes closing.

His response was muffled. “A ridiculous man who loves you.” His lips left yours, and the tip of his nose nuzzled yours. “Mi amor?” he rasped.

“Yes, husband?”

His fingers slid along your thigh. “After the dances,” he said, “when they open the dance floor, sneak away with me to the laundry room—” It was at the end of the same hall the guest bedroom was down and secluded. “—I need you so fucking bad.”

“After the dances, I have to change dresses...”

“That’s not a no… Can I join you? Your clothes will already be off, and I can put you up on the bathroom counter or against it and slide right in. Imagine getting filled with your husband’s cock—the cock that belongs to you—and how it will stretch your perfect pussy—my wife’s pussy. We’d be quick; I’d fuck you hard and fast. I’ll probably have to cover your mouth to keep you quiet, and all of these people will have no fucking clue that while they’re drinking and dancing, my wife’s soaking my dick in her come, and I’m stuffing her full of me.”

The proposition made you squirm in your seat and had your skin heating.

Now that you were at the party, your nerves had settled, and his words had gotten to you—you did want him inside you, and god, to feel him stretch you open; the fingering in the truck was good, but nothing compared to how Javi fucked you, and the thought of doing it with so many people on the property had your inner exhibitionist frothing at the mouth.

“Sold.”

It was truly adorable how he giddily chuckled, then smothered the sound by kissing you, his hand leaving your thigh to press to your cheek. He’d been eating an Al Pastor taco before you interrupted him, the sweetness of pineapple and spiciness of chiles lingering on his tongue as he licked into your mouth, giving you another one of those toe-curling kisses that made your brain stop working—either you were just insanely horny for your husband and you couldn’t wait to be alone in a room with him, or some baser, primal instinct was telling you to go right that second to make a baby.

There were wolf-whistles again, and you couldn’t make out what Olivia asked, but you sure heard her father’s answer. “If you must know,” Steve said, “yes, I do kiss your mother like that, but not in front of you or your brothers—those kinds of kisses are between two adults who love each other and should only happen in private.” The girl made another comment, and Steve replied, “Well, your tio loves your new tia very, very much, and getting married is one of the happiest days of someone’s life—they’re just so happy, and in love, they keep forgetting there’s an audience.”

Your mouths separated, Javi pressing his forehead to yours as he sighed. He quietly said to you, “I’m aware there’s an audience, and I don’t give a fuck because we’re not doing anything inappropriate—it’s just kissing for Christ’s sake.”

You pushed your fingers into the hair at the back of his head. “He’s being an overprotective dad. When we have kids, you’re definitely going to be overprotective, but not when it comes to affection because it’s normal for us to be all lovey-dovey—our babies will be used to their parents being disgustingly in love.”

“Yeah, they will.”

His hair is soft to the touch, and you lovingly scratch your nails against his scalp. “Something that I love is that your parents shaped your view of what a healthy, loving marriage should be like, and we’re gonna do the same for our children, so when they’re all grown up, they’ll hopefully have something like us and their abuelos (grandparents).”

You didn’t have to see his face to know he was frowning when he spoke. “I don’t want them to grow up… I want them to be my babies forever.”

“Oh, babe.” You pecked his lips. “They’ll always be your babies, and this is a reminder that when we finally have one, we need to savor every moment because they're gonna grow so quickly, and I know you’ll hate that.”

Seconds passed, and he didn’t speak, which meant he was in his head, thinking deeply about something. You pulled back to look at his face, his eyes closed, his eyebrows cinched together, and you stroked your fingers along his cheek.

“Where’d you go?” you softly asked him.

He blinked open his eyes. “Nowhere,” he answered, turning his head to kiss your palm.

“Are you okay?”

He gave you a little smile. “I’m fucking amazing.”

“Good.”

“¡Bien, todos (Okay, everyone),” Diego announced, “démosle la bienvenida a la pista de baile los novios para su primer baile (Let’s welcome the bride and groom to the dance floor for their first dance)!”

Applause sounded, and Javi got up from the table first, offering a hand that you took to rise, and he led you out onto the dance floor. The intro for “I’ve Been Waiting for You” by ABBA began, the soft hum of a synthesizer sounding as Agnetha F��ltskog sang with feeling about how she never thought she’d love again, but the right person has come along now and brought back the feeling.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what Javi was thinking with how intensely he looked upon you; his loving gaze burned as it met yours, his close-lipped smile beneath his perfectly trimmed mustache making the edges of his eyes crinkle, and there was not a single doubt that it was you on his mind, consuming all of his thoughts. Before he pulled you close by your hand in his, he took you in, the pink of his tongue wetting his bottom lip as his gaze trailed up your body appreciatively. When his chocolate-colored eyes locked onto yours, his love for you was evident, but so was his desire—he clearly wanted you, and it made heat creep up your neck.

His free hand found its home on your waist, or more accurately, the top of your ass where it met your waist, while your own held onto the back of one of his broad shoulders, and you danced as you had so many times before in the kitchen as you cooked together; the familiarity of the steps, Javi guiding you as you swayed to the music, eyes on each other and only each other, the rest of the world disappearing.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said for just your ears.

All you could see was the truth on his face, and it made you smile. You replied just as softly, “Thank you. You’re so fucking handsome—ten out of ten, would bang.” You winked, and he chuckled, the two of you slowly moving to the song.

“You know how much I love you in that dress, but I can’t wait to get you out of it.”

“A few more songs, and you’ll get to.”

He grinned, his dimple appearing. “I really fucking love you.”

“I really fucking love you, too.”

The song’s chorus played:

“You thrill me, you delight me You please me, you excite me You're something I'd been pleading for I love you, I adore you I lay my life before you I'll have you want me more and more And finally, it seems my lonely days are through I've been waiting for you.”

He pulled you close enough to touch his forehead to yours gently, his hand holding your smaller one against his chest over his heart. He was gazing lovingly into your eyes, softly smiling.

“I gotta say, this is a good song choice,” he told you.

When the discussion about music for today came up, immediately, this was the song that came to mind for your first dance—it was about thinking love would never happen, then the surprise at finding it, and the overwhelming feelings that come with finally having it after longing for so long; the immense adoration, and deep commitment, it being so unexpected that it felt like destiny, ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’ It captured the essence of your relationship with Javi perfectly, and it made you happy that after playing it for him, he agreed—he’d never heard it before and thought, by the end, it fit well, too.

He also sought your approval for his song choice that you walked down the aisle to, except his pitch was having you listen to all of side one of his Fleetwood Mac Rumours record that “Songbird” was the last track on… In bed… While making out through the first five songs leading up to it. Apparently, in college, he’d invite girls to his dorm room to ‘listen to a record with him’—not always Fleetwood Mac—and they’d fool around. Another discovery you made was that side two of Rumours was the one he fucked to since it was the longer of the two sides, running just shy of twenty minutes. Yes, your husband had a system where he dedicated the first side of a record to foreplay, then the second for the main event.

“Right?” you responded to his comment. “The devotion and being all in—it’s so us.”

The song continued, and Javi moved his head beside yours to quietly sing along to a few verses in your ear when the chorus played again:

“You're something I'd been pleading for I love you, I adore you I lay my life before you I'll have you want me more and more.”

It had you sucking in a breath, your eyes rounding because you were under the impression the one and only time he listened to this track was when you introduced him to it.

You leaned back to see his face. “Wait, how do you know the lyrics?” you asked.

His eyebrow raised, giving you a look like it was obvious. “Cielito, you chose this for our first dance,” he said. “Of course, I listened to it a handful of times after you showed me it-—it’s a pretty song and perfect.”

Tears were starting to blur your vision at how sweet that was.

“You love ABBA.”

He huffed in amusement. “My wife loves ABBA, and if she loves them, then I love them, too.”

“Uh-huh, right—we’re married, babe. You don’t have to keep pretending you’re too cool to love them.”

He sighed. “Their shit is just so catchy.”

His admission had you smiling. “Finally, you admit it. God, I really fucking love you.”

He gave you another dimpled smile. “I really fucking love you, too.” He moved to have your temples touching as you swayed. “I wanna tell you something.”

With the music so loud and the two of you staying in the middle of the dance floor, you doubted anyone would be able to hear your hushed conversation. He was still slowly leading you around; talking and dancing was something you were both used to.

“Okay.”

“When I finally came home to Laredo for good, it’d fucking get to me seeing all the pictures of how happy my parents were or listening to my dad talk so fondly about my mom. Hearing and seeing how much they loved each other killed me because I’d never have anything like what they had. Then you came along and, Jesus Christ, am I so fucking thankful you came along—” The relief was evident in his voice. “—because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you’ve given me the life I always dreamed about, and more. So, you are something I’d been pleading for; I love you, I adore you, and you know I lay my life before you—it’s yours, it’ll always be yours, and I’m gonna do my damndest to make you want me more.” You could hear his smile. “I’ll have to up the hunkiness.”

You laughed, continuing to dance with him. “I don’t think you can get any hunkier.”

“I think I can.” His cheek touched yours to whisper in your ear, feeling the hot breath of his words, “Like how after the dances, I’m dragging your ass to the bedroom, getting you naked, and I wanna bury my face in your pussy.” You gasped. “I know you want me to eat it, and I’m fucking dying to taste my wife. I’ll get you off with my mouth and the fingers you love. Then I’m pressing you back against the wall—I know I said bathroom counter earlier, but I need to kiss you—so, your back is getting pressed against the wall, and you're gonna taste yourself on my tongue while I fuck you hard and fast. I’ll keep you quiet so nobody knows you’re getting your husband’s good dick, and when I come inside you, you’re gonna keep it all in for the rest of the night because you know if you’re my good girl, I’m gonna give you anything you want when we get home.”

“Javier,” you breathed. He had your skin feeling hot and your heartbeat thudding between your legs, so unbelievably turned on by what he said. You had to clear your throat and say, “Sir, the way you’re making my pussy throb—I am so upset that I can’t drag your ass to the bedroom right this second to have my way with you.”

“Yeah?” He kissed your cheek. “I’ll make you feel good the first chance I get, and fuck, I can’t wait to get you home so that I can take my time. Quiero hacerte el amor (I want to make love to you). Quiero dártelo despacito y hacer temblar tus piernas (I want to give it to you slowly and make your legs shake). Quiero oírte gritar mi nombre decirme lo bien que te estoy chingado (I want to hear you scream my name and tell me how good I’m fucking you).”

“Okay, okay, okay, you are the hunkiest hunk to ever hunk, and I’m gonna need you to tone it down because I am extremely horny and so close to saying fuck it and running away with you while everyone watches.”

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling. “I’m sorry for getting you worked up, mi amor.”

“That’s a dirty fucking lie, and you know it.”

With your bodies pressed together, you felt the rumble of his chuckle as the song came to an end. The two of you slowed to a stop naturally, and Javi straightened in front of you, looking at you once more; he was just as affected by the things he said if his darkened eyes and the pretty pink flush painted across his cheeks were anything to go by—and maybe it was his sultry words, or his sweet confession, or simply that his plush mouth looked so kissable, whatever it was had you gripping the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, and tugging him to you to smash your lips against his, kissing him. His arms wrapped around you, one hand anchored at the back of your head, the other squeezing your ass, your mouths passionately fused together, turning your body to putty and your brain to mush as you melted into him.

During his vows, Javi said his life didn’t begin until the moment he met you, and you understood exactly what he meant—what felt like so long ago, yet was only mere months, he entered your sphere, and suddenly, you felt alive; he made you feel alive. He was the sun shining after a gloomy, rainy day. He was the spring blooms after a frigid, snowy winter. He brought life to your world, love, and made everything better, and now he promised you his forever, sealing that commitment with the gold band on your finger.

He was yours, completely, always yours, and you were his.

Honestly, it was a miracle you heard a single thing Diego was announcing over the speakers. “La siguiente canción es una petición especial del novio (This next song is a special request from the groom). Mrs. Peña, Javi quiere dejarte saber que él siempre será tu pez (Mrs. Peña, Javi wants you to know that he will always be your fish).”

That had you abruptly ending the kiss, Javi’s mouth chasing yours. You pressed a hand to the center of his chest to hold him back.

“What song?” you asked him. “What does it mean that you’ll always be my fish…?”

His eyes opened to look at her, and he smiled, engulfing her hand on him with his larger one to hold over where she had to feel the thud of his heartbeat, his other resting just below her waistline on her ass, loving how soft her dress was under his fingers. He didn’t get a chance to answer because Diego started the song, and he knew she recognized it immediately from the familiar piano and twang of an acoustic guitar filling the air, followed by bongos and a man singing the opening line:

“Tengo un corazón…”

She started laughing, and warmth spread through him at how delighted she was.

“Burbujas de Amor” by Juan Luis Guerra was one of their favorite songs that played on the Spanish radio station they liked to listen to as they cooked. It had a good danceable beat while also being a romantic ballad, and the lyrics were… Interesting. The first time his wife heard it was early on in their relationship while they were making lunch together; she couldn’t believe what was being sung to the point she kept double-checking with him that what she was translating in her head was correct.

“Wait, did he just say he wants to be a fish so he can touch her fish tank with his nose…?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t understand the next line.”

“Y hacer burbujas de amor por dondequiera—and make love bubbles everywhere.”

“And then he really sings that he wants to stay up all night, soaked in her?”

“Yeah, and it makes sense to me ‘cause I wanna stay up all night soaked in you.”

She grinned. “You want to be the fish to my fish tank.”

“Quiero ser tu pez, quiero ser tu novio, quiero ser tu todo (I want to be your fish, I want to be your boyfriend, I want to be your everything). Need me to translate?”

“Nope, I understood you perfectly.”

The ABBA song was their choice for the first dance, but when they were picking the music, she joked about how funny it’d be if they used “Burbujas de Amor.” It amused her so much that he thought it’d be fun to surprise her with it as their second dance song.

“I can’t believe you requested this,” she said, clearly amused.

“We love it—” He shrugged. “—and I wanted to dance with you to it.” He gave her hand a quick kiss before letting it go to do this thing she found sexy, where he kept his attention on her while undoing the buttons on his suit jacket one-handed. He continued speaking as it came undone, “Dance with me—really dance with me.”

Javier loved the intimacy of slow dancing with her—the two of them close together in their own little world, swaying to the music and having an easy conversation; it was one of his favorite things to do. But there was nothing like giving in to the rhythm of some great music with someone you had a deep connection with, someone who loved you just as intensely as you loved them and shared in the intimate knowledge of how your bodies moved together.

It was incredible.

Their connection made everything exhilarating, and it was the same with sex. Out of the many partners he’d had in the bedroom and out on the dance floor, nothing compared to doing either with his wife—she was hands down the best he’d ever had in bed or dancing.

And to be completely honest, she wasn’t as good of a dancer as him—she was much better now than at the start of their relationship, and his toes were thankful for that; none of it mattered, though, because her confidence and willingness to even try, along with how fun she was, made up for her lack of skill. Plus, they had such great chemistry she did an excellent job of following his lead, which was the only time she let him be in control 100% of the time, every time.

“Okay,” she replied, stepping into him and wrapping her arm around his neck. She held up her other hand that Javier happily took firmly into his much bigger one, holding her close, his knee slotting between both of hers and a second later, he was moving them to the beat, literally moving her where he wanted by her hand in his—backward, forward, a turn here, a turn there, his wife relaxed and dancing in sync with him, their hips shaking a bit with each step.

Though they usually danced like this to cumbia music, he thought it was the best choice for this situation since he’d do all the work while she followed, because he knew, even if she was hiding it, that she worried about fucking up in front of everyone. Like this, he had complete control of them—how fast they went, where they were going; he was so in tune with her, so familiar with how she moved, they were dancing so seamlessly and effortlessly like it was a choreographed number they’d rehearsed a hundred times before.

He loved her giggles when he twirled them around, and he couldn’t stop smiling at how good it felt to move them to the music with hardly any thought or care aside from keeping them stepping to the rhythm; they were just having fun, enjoying each other and the vibrant energy of their love and happiness.

They were between choruses, the guitar, piano, and bongos still playing to keep the beat, while a trumpet had a solo.

“Javi?” she said.

“Yes, Cielito?”

He spun them in a complete circle and continued on another lap around the dance floor.

Her face was beside his, and she sang dramatically along with Juan Luis Guerra that she would like to be a fish so she could touch her nose to his fish tank and make love bubbles. Javier chuckled, which only egged her on to keep singing.

They didn’t stop moving, Javier humming along to her serenading him, and he was thinking about how much he loved this woman who made him laugh so easily and constantly amused him—she was sunshine, all bright, happy, and full of life, and the complete opposite of what he’d been before meeting her.

There was that old saying, ‘Laughter is the best medicine,’ and he was pretty fucking sure it was true with how much better he was with her—she relaxed him, she’d crack a joke, and all of the tension melted away from his body. Her silliness brought him joy, and he felt so good after she told him a funny story, he always wanted her to keep talking. It sometimes felt like she was trying to make up for all of his laughless years before her, and when he thought about it, she had made a point in her marriage vows to promise to keep making him laugh and smile for the rest of their lives; it was a promise that she’d keep making him happy and that his life would never be miserable again. It was the greatest promise anyone had ever made to him, and for as long as he lived, he was going to worship the ground she walked on—he was wholly and undoubtedly hers and he would ensure she was aware of that fact every single day for the rest of their lives.

When the song ended and they came to a stop, he let go of her. His hands held her beautiful face, rubbing his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks, her eyes shining in adoration, and he wanted to kiss that smile on her lips—he was so focused on her that he barely registered those in attendance clapping.

"Javi?" she said.

"Yes, mi vida (my life)?"

“Do you remember the first time we listened to that song?”

He smiled. “Yeah, you were making me my first peanut butter and jelly sandwich while I was cutting apple slices for lunch, and you kept wondering if you were hearing the lyrics right.”

“Good, then I want you to know that eres mi pez, eres mi esposo, y siempre serás mi todo (You are my fish, you are my husband, and you will always be my everything)—I love you."

The tears he was keeping at bay were making his eyes burn, and it could be heard how choked up he was when he replied, "I love you, too."

And to stop himself from crying in front of his wife and the almost hundred people watching, he hugged her to him in a tight embrace, welcoming her arms that held him just as tightly. A content sigh left him as all of the muscles in his body went lax, soaking up her warmth and comfort, the calm washing over him like a cool balm on a hot summer day.

Something about Javier was that, even though he was raised Catholic, he didn't believe in God or any other almighty higher being somewhere out in the ether. It was easy to lose faith when someone had seen the things he'd seen and been through the shit he'd been through. He did, however, believe in fate and that everything happens for a reason; he thought that no matter what choices were made—good, bad, right, or wrong—they’d all lead to the same end result.

For a long time, he questioned the purpose of all that he’d done in Colombia and what his sacrifices were for when, in the end, it felt like it was all for nothing, and in one aspect, it had been a pointless endeavor; everything he did, didn’t end the war on drugs, and there wasn’t anything that could. But those grueling years he spent wading through unimaginable hell and loneliness were the long and rocky road that brought him to the woman he loved—all he went through wasn’t for nothing, because it led him to finding heaven, his Cielito, his wife. This person who was his entire world, who he loved more than anything, whose presence gave him peace, and whose words touched his soul. She made all of the blood, sweat, and tears he’d shed over the years worth it, and he’d happily do it all again since he was fated to find the woman of his dreams and experience today, the best day of his entire life.

It was still hard to believe she said, ‘I do,’ and he found himself unwrapping her left arm from around him and leaning away enough to bring her hand up, delicately holding her fingers in his own. He stared at the two rings, the proof she did marry him. The diamonds on the engagement ring glittered beneath the string lights above them, his thumb smoothing over the new gold band below it that matched the one on his finger. He kissed the modest-sized princess-cut diamond nestled between a pair of smaller ones on either side of it and felt so fucking happy he thought he might combust—he had a wife, he was a husband.

Neither of them were able to get out another word before Diego’s voice was heard over the sound system, “La siguiente canción fue elegida por la novia para el segundo hombre más importante de su vida, quien la recibió en su familia con los brazos abiertos y es el mejor papá que cualquiera podría desear (The following song was chosen by the bride for the second most important man in her life, who welcomed her into his family with open arms, and is the best dad anyone could wish for). ¡Es hora del baile padre e hija (It’s time for the father-daughter dance)!”

Growing up, you weren’t like most other girls who fantasized about their dream wedding. Of course, you hoped one day you’d meet the love of your life and get married. Still, in terms of the wedding itself, you knew from a young age your controlling parents would be heavily involved in the planning to ensure it met their standards and made them look good, so you didn’t see any point in thinking much about it.

Then, you moved thousands of miles away to escape their control and live your life the way you wanted, and on Friday, June 12th, 1998, you fantasized for the first time about what your wedding would be like when you married Javier Peña—not if, when.

It was the evening after he asked you to be his girlfriend, and you were cuddling on your couch, watching a movie—the entire pizza you’d ordered for dinner was eaten, the box sitting closed on the coffee table with a couple of empty cans of Coca-Cola on coasters near it. The two of you were too exhausted from hardly getting any sleep the night before to do anything more exciting than make out a little after eating. Honestly, it was nice how comfortable it was relaxing together. Since Javi was allergic to clothes, he’d been lounging in only his jeans, and when he got up to use the bathroom, you admired his back as he walked away. Ogling his front on his return to the living room, taking in the broadness of his chest, your spine tingling at seeing dark marks you sucked onto his golden skin—you’d wanted to kiss all over his soft belly and scratch your nails down the tantalizing trail of hair that disappeared below the denim’s waistband. He’d been so amused by you blatantly checking him out he stopped paying attention to where he was walking and managed to slam his toe hard into one of the coffee table’s legs, which had him yelling ‘FUCK,’ and lifting his injured foot to awkwardly hop on the other, hissing a string of what you now knew, for sure, were Spanish curse words. Immediately, you jumped up to make sure he was okay and checked the damage to his big toe; it was mostly his ego that’d been bruised, and when you sat back down on the sofa, you made him lie across it with his head in your lap to play with his hair, to cheer him up—apparently, you’d been so tired that a few minutes later you forgot to filter your thoughts and accidentally said out loud:

“Sure wish I was your big toe.”

He had twisted to look up at you, his face showing apparent confusion when he asked, “What?”

Once again, what you were thinking spilled from your lips, “So you’d bang me on the coffee table.”

It’d been unbelievably stupid, yet it made Javi laugh so hard that his eyes practically disappeared with how thinly they slit together and adorably crinkled at the edges while he gave you a huge, blinding smile; his glee was infectious and had you both laughing until you cried—that was when you knew he was The One™️.

This was the first person you ever truly felt like you could be yourself with, and you knew, without a doubt, that he liked you for you and appreciated your silliness. And everything had seemed so easy with him—talking, dating, and how comfortable it was to spend hours on the couch watching TV while going long periods in silence. The familiarity between you two had made it feel as though you’d always known him, and it was crazy that your personalities and backgrounds were so vastly different, yet you meshed so well together—he understood you, and you understood him; you complemented one another. It hadn’t mattered that you were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need a man and never had a single codependent bone in your body; when Javier Peña would leave your apartment or even just the room you were in, you missed him—it was mind-boggling to like someone so much that your chest ached when they weren’t near.

Strangers who heard how quickly your relationship became serious liked to comment on how fast you fell for each other. Falling implies it was by accident, and there was uncertainty about where you’d land when, but in reality, there was no falling, no uncertainty; you were simply two parted souls who were reunited and had finally come home.

So, the evening after he asked you to be his girlfriend, while you both laughed with tears streaming down your cheeks that hurt from smiling so big, it was cemented in your brain that you were going to marry him—a life you could see that would be filled with love, happiness, and laughter.

The wedding you imagined all those months ago was close to how it turned out—a small, intimate ceremony only attended by a select few with a party afterward. Javi wore the black tuxedo you pictured, and his dad and Robyn were there, as you expected; however, it wasn’t your father who gave you away like you thought it’d be, and your mother wasn’t there to watch or even help you get ready. Back then, so soon after starting your relationship, you didn’t know that your parents would disapprove of Javi, and naively you had assumed they’d be happy for your nuptials—you knew they’d hate the wedding you planned, but they still would’ve come with the caveat of complaining the whole time, and there was no expectation for your brother and his family to be there due to how challenging it’d have been to travel with their gaggle of young children. You promised your best friend that you wouldn’t think about the people you used to share a last name with, and you were trying not to. There were simply moments when they came to mind, and you’d feel a pain in your chest like an invisible stab to the heart that tried to ruin this wonderful day.

Frankly, your wedding was turning out better than you initially imagined it. All those who witnessed your ceremony loved it, and everyone at the reception was truly happy for you both. The best part, though, was the man who gave you away wasn’t related to you by blood. Still, he loved you more than those who did—he was genuinely proud of you, he supported your happiness, and would fight for you without a second thought; he was a real father, and you lucked out that he chose to be yours, loving you unconditionally as you always deserved.

There was no one else in the world you wanted to have a father-daughter dance with more than your newly titled father-in-law, Jesús ‘Chucho’ Peña.

As you stepped away from Javi after giving him a sweet departing kiss, you set your sights on your new dad sitting at the table with the Murphys and Robyn—Seb was back to work recording with the camcorder. The song began, starting with the dulcet tone of a violin and an entire orchestra backing it, the whimsicalness of the intro sounding as if it could’ve been pulled from a fairytale movie; “Amor Eterno” by Rocío Dúrcal was a breathtakingly beautiful ballad about grieving someone you loved.

Chucho’s camera was atop the lavender tablecloth in front of him, and he had a hand over his mouth in shock, his eyes glistening with tears beneath the lenses of his glasses—he hadn’t known about the dance, as it was a surprise to show him what he meant to you.

A smile formed on your lips, and you held out your hand toward him, walking his way. Steve was grinning beside the older man, giving him a pat on the back as Chucho stood and you approached.

“Me?” he asked when you were close, pressing his fingertip to the center of his white-dress shirt-covered chest.

You gently poked him over his heart. “You, Pop,” you said. “The best damn dad I’ve ever had, and I’m sorry for springing this on you, but if you’re willing, may I have this dance?”

His eyes rounded, and he took your palm into his, smiling as he answered with a nod, “Yes, Mija. I apologize if I’m a bit rusty. I haven’t danced with anyone since mi Amor.”

“Don’t stress,” you replied, swatting his apology away with your free hand. “We can just sway to the music. That’s always safe.”

“Okay.”

With that, you led him to the middle of the dance floor and faced him, Chucho holding your one hand up while your other was on his shoulder, his free palm resting on the center of your back. You easily followed his basic steps that had you sticking to a small area.

His eyes were on yours. “This is one of my favorite songs,” he said.

You smiled. “I know—it came on the radio the first time we made tamales together, and I remember you telling me it was one of your favorites.”

His face softened. “That’s what’s so great about you; you care, you really care, and not a day goes by without me thanking God for bringing you into our lives—it fills my heart with joy to see my Javi so happy, and I can breathe easier knowing that he finally found his media naranja (soulmate). We’re truly blessed to have you join our family, and I am lucky to be able to call you my daughter because you are my daughter.”

“Oh, Pop,” you said, holding back tears. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mija.” And the truth was shining in his eyes.

“God, I’m trying so hard not to cry.” You took a deep, shaky breath, the two of you still slowly moving, swaying in a circle. “I’m lucky I have you and Javi��you’re such a great father, and you raised an amazing man.” The emotion was heavy in your voice as you continued speaking, your bottom lip wobbling, “I’m so unbelievably thankful and happy. I’ve never been this happy in my entire life.”

He gave you a happy smile. “You deserve it—now, let’s talk about something else so your beautiful makeup doesn’t get ruined by tears.” He lightly squeezed your hand in his.

You huffed in amusement. “Thank you.”

“Did I tell you mi Antonia loved the album this song was on?” he asked as you continued dancing.

“You didn’t,” you answered with a shake of your head.

"She played it all the time when it came out while she cooked or cleaned, and I'd come home to her beautiful voice singing along." It was obvious on his face that he was remembering fond memories. “She loved Juan Gabriel’s songs.” He was the writer of this song and an amazing Mexican singer-songwriter who collaborated with Rocío Dúrcal on many albums. “She had all of his albums, and she’d tell me to be quiet when he came on the radio.” He chuckled. “If we were home, and music was playing, any music, I’d just pull her into my arms, and we’d dance wherever we were in the house; it didn’t matter if we were in the living room, the kitchen, the hallway, or our bedroom, we’d just take a few minutes to ourselves and dance together.” You smiled, thinking about how Javi was the same way; if you put on a record to clean the apartment or turned on the radio to cook, it was a guarantee that he would make you stop and dance with him for at least one song. “That was something we did from the start of our relationship,” he continued, “until…” He swallowed thickly. “Until the very end.” His expression turned solemn, and you could tell the memory that came to him in that moment was painful to recall, your heart breaking for him that he lost the love of his life. He cleared his throat and tried to smile, but the pain was still there behind his eyes. “I see a lot of me and mi Amor in the two of you, and that’s how I know that what you have is real and that it’s gonna last.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

The chorus began, Rocío Dúrcal beautifully singing:

“Amor eterno (Eternal love) Y inolvidable (And unforgettable) Tarde o temprano estaré contigo (Sooner or later, I will be with you) Para seguir amándonos (To continue loving each other).”

Listening to the lyrics, it made sense that this was one of Chucho’s favorite songs—it perfectly captured someone’s grief and their longing to be with the person they lost again. It was rare, but it was known to happen that couples who loved as deeply as your father and mother-in-law did, passed away close together, with the second succumbing to their broken heart. It showed Chucho’s strength that he managed to survive after losing a part of himself—his soulmate—and you were thankful he was strong for your husband. You thought there was a possibility his wife told him he had to keep going for their son’s sake because she knew Javi, just as you did, and had he lost both of his parents, he would’ve self-destructed and been even more reckless in Colombia; it pained you to think that he probably wouldn’t have made it home alive.

The thought of his mother’s possible dying wish and the strength of his father had your vision blurring with tears. You were so unbelievably grateful that Javi had parents who loved him so dearly and that he loved just as fiercely.

Concern showed on Chucho’s face. “What’s wrong, Mija?”

“Nothing.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m just happy—really happy.”

His lips turned up. “I’m happy—really happy, too, and—” His smile evolved into a full-blown grin. “—excited. Now that you’re married, I know mi primero nieto está a la vuelta de la esquina (my first grandchild is right around the corner).”

He made you laugh. “Yes, Pop. We’re hoping we’ll have a kid by the end of the year.”

His eyes went wide. “Really? The end of the year?”

“That’s what we’re trying for.”

It always weirded you out how freely people announced they were fucking raw or, in PG terms, trying for a baby. With how much Chucho yearned to be a grandfather, he’d be beyond happy to know you were trying to make his dream come true, and you were right.

As the song came to a close, he pulled you into him, hugging you tight, and you embraced him in return. “My son got married to a wonderful woman, and there’s a possibility I might be an abuelo (grandpa) by December. This is the best year of my life since Javi was born—thank you.”

“No, thank you for raising an incredible man that I can’t wait to have a family with.”

What he wished most was that he could share this amazing day with his wife.

Chucho knew for certain Antonia would’ve been over the moon with happiness right along with him and would agree that this was turning out to be the best year of their lives since the birth of their son.

What he would give for her to be here standing next to him, holding his hand, and getting a chance to hug her tight as they both cried from being overjoyed that their Javiercito was happy and married to a woman they loved.

If his media naranja (soulmate) were here, he’d hold her in his arms and say, “Nuestro hijo a crecido, mi Amor (Our son has grown up, my Love). ¿Puedes creer que finalmente se casó y que podemos tener un nieto para fin de año (Can you believe he finally got married, and we may have a grandchild by the end of the year)?”

“¡Si dios quiere (God willing)!” she’d answer. “¡Es un sueño hecho realidad, mi Alma (It’s a dream come true, my Soul)! Criamos a un buen hombre, que sé que será un esposo y padre maravilloso (We raised a good man, who I know will be a wonderful husband and father).” He’d agree wholeheartedly and seal it with a kiss.

As they grew older, Antonia’s reason for why Javi needed to hurry up and marry went from her wanting him to give them grandkids, to giving them grandkids and so she’d still be able to do a proper mother-son dance with him since her joints had started aching. Oh, how Chucho would’ve loved to see her dance with that good man they raised.

He wished she could see with her own eyes that Javi was finally home and living the life they had always dreamt for him: having his own family with someone who truly cared about him, loved him, and made him happy. Chucho hadn’t seen their son thrive like this in almost twenty years, and Antonia’s heart would’ve burst with joy, like his did, every time she saw Javi’s big smile.

There was no way for his Amor to be here in person, but she was with them in spirit. Tomorrow, he planned to take the camera film he used today down to the one-hour photo kiosk in the mall parking lot. After the pictures were developed, he’d go visit his Antonia to share them with her and tell her everything that happened; he may have lost her eight years ago, but he could still perfectly picture the beaming smile she’d give him upon hearing the news.

The image in his mind lifted the corners of his lips—he missed that smile, as he missed her, especially today.

He was excited to tell her how their new daughter had surprised him with a father-daughter dance to a song with special meaning. He found comfort in “Amor Eterno,” and for some weeks after his wife’s passing, that album she loved was all he listened to—it took years for him to be able to hear the song without crying. Now, he had a happier memory attached to it, which he appreciated.

With the absence of the bride’s parents—who were unwelcome anyway and were not allowed to step foot on his property—Chucho had assumed there wouldn’t be a father-daughter dance or a mother-son dance, since his Amor couldn’t be there. He was touched that Javi’s Cielito thought so highly of him that she’d honor him with the dance.

He welcomed her into their family the first time they met and had been ready to be a father-in-law to her, but when he heard about how her family treated and disrespected her, Chucho had no problem stepping up to be a father-figure if she so wished, and she did. This poor girl was so kind and truly wonderful; it saddened him that her parents didn’t love her as she deserved or supported her life choices. By no means were he and his wife perfect parents—there were things they wished they could’ve done differently with Javi, but they sure loved the hell out of him and supported him. A parent should want their child to be happy, healthy, and successful; as long as they’re happy and healthy, it shouldn’t matter what they decide to do with their life that they consider success.

Swimming made Javi happy, and they did whatever they could to encourage him.

They knew their son wasn’t happy in Colombia, but he was passionate about his job and wanted to get it done, so they continued cheering him on and were there for him whenever and however he needed them to be as best they could from home.

Chucho was damn proud of the things his new daughter had achieved in her life, and he’d still be proud of her no matter what she did for work because the only thing that mattered was her happiness.

He knew her father was a well-educated man with many fancy degrees. Still, Chucho questioned the other man’s intelligence because he couldn’t seem to comprehend something so basic as caring about his kid’s well-being and loving them unconditionally.

Frankly, Chucho was glad she was no longer under her parents’ scrutiny, and it felt good that she thought so highly of him as a dad that she honored him with the dance.

Another surprise that warmed his heart was his son taking the time to dance a whole song with each of Chucho’s sisters. Javier went from oldest to youngest, starting with his tía María, to the song “¿Y Cómo es El?” by José Luis Perales, then his tía Lupe—who had him laughing while they moved around the dance floor—to “Sergio el Bailador” by Bronco, one of her favorite songs. Now, he was dancing with his tía Rebeca to “Piel Canela” by Eydie Gormé, the two slowly moving from side to side and talking.

He stood at the edge of the dance floor taking pictures of his son and his baby sister; his sobrino (nephew), Sebastián, was beside him with a video camera, recording what was going on.

“Hey, good lookin’,” Robyn said as she approached them from behind.

Chucho lowered the camera from his face with a smile, his upper body twisting to the right to look at her. “Hola, Pajarito (Hi, little bird).”

Seb interjected, “Sabes que ella estaba hablando conmigo, Tío (You know she was talking to me, Uncle).” He addressed the woman, “Hola, hermosa (Hi, beautiful).” The younger man had the camcorder held up but turned his head to accept a quick kiss from his girlfriend, who had to rise up on her toes to meet his mouth.

She broke away, grinning, and replied, “No, I was greetin’ Chucho.” Her attention turned to him. “You’re lookin’ mighty handsome tonight, and I gotta say, it was lovely watchin’ you dance with my girl.”

“It was lovely that she asked me.”

The bride was sitting over at the table with the Murphys in his empty spot, the love clear in her eyes as she stared at her husband—it was sweet.

“What are you doing over here?” Seb asked her. She turned his way and stepped to have herself against his side. She wrapped her arms around his middle and tilted her head to meet his eyes.

“You were standin’ here lookin’ like sex on legs, and I needed to come remind you that I’m takin’ your ass home tonight.”

Chucho chuckled. It was easy to see why Robyn and his daughter were instant best friends the first time they met—neither had any shame and said what they were thinking. It was incredibly amusing.

The younger man wore a little smile. “Yes, you are,” Sebastián replied. “I didn’t forget. You wanna stay with me? This is the last dance I have to record, and then I’m all yours.”

“I think I will—if that’s alright with you,” she directed at Chucho, looking over her shoulder at him.

He smiled. “You go ahead. I think I’ll head back to the table.”

His knees were sore, and he needed to sit down for a little while. Just as the song was ending, he turned toward the table and saw that his new daughter was already standing at the corner of the dance floor, waiting for her husband. Javi gave his tía a quick hug, and Chucho smiled at how, the moment his son’s arms left Rebeca, he was zeroing in on his wife.

Chucho wouldn’t say they hugged upon reaching each other; hug was too tame of a word to describe their intimate embrace, which almost had him blushing—and because he was a father whose sole purpose was to give his child or children a hard time, he lifted his camera, and snapped a picture so that he could tease them relentlessly later on.

Wolf whistles sounded, people cheered, and he chuckled at the fact there was no denying Javier was his son—Chucho couldn’t keep his hands off his wife either, and if things had been different, if life was a little kinder, they probably would’ve had at least ten kids. He was more than happy with his one, though; su bendición (his blessing), who’d grown into an incredible man he couldn’t be prouder of. With all the good that had happened to Javier over the last year, he believed his son would have much better luck when it came to having children, and Chucho loved the idea of ten nietos (grandchildren) to spoil rotten.

The white satin hugging her ass was silky smooth beneath both of Javier’s palms, his tongue in her mouth, tasting the sweetness of powdered sugar and hints of the buttery nuttiness from a Mexican wedding cookie she’d eaten. He loved how her fingers tangled in his hair, and he wanted to drown in the scent of her perfume that had him feeling heady with its fruity, woodsy notes, Javier already half-hard in his pants.

He was happy his father and tías had a chance to be honored with dances after all they’d done for him and Cielito, but the closer he got to finishing his last dance, the more his anticipation grew to be alone with his wife—it was taking everything in him not to drag her away right this second, but he was waiting for—

Diego spoke into the microphone, “¡Damas y caballeros, es hora de festejar (Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to party)! ¡Quiero verlos a todos en la pista de baile (I want to see you all on the dance floor)!”

The whine of an accordion, accompanied by a quick beat, came over the speakers—it was the beginning of “La Chona” by Los Tucanes de Tijuana, and with the excited cheers and whistles, people were doing as his primo said, moving onto the dance floor. This was when the newlyweds could make their escape. Javier reluctantly ended the kiss, his hand latching onto her smaller one.

“Come on,” was all he said, quickly leading her away from the party and out of the tent, her giggles trailing behind him.

He was on a mission, hurriedly thanking those they passed by who congratulated them and getting her into the house, managing to make it through the kitchen to the entryway that his old bedroom was off of without his tía María noticing as she stood at the kitchen sink. Javier tugged Cielito into the room, pushing her back against the door he closed—his lips crushed onto hers in a searing kiss while he turned the lock on the doorknob and flicked on the light switch.

All night, the tension had built to this moment that found them alone, behind a locked door, and both so desperate for the other that it was a frenzy of messy kisses and fumbling hands to get their clothes off—his tuxedo jacket was first to go, his tie next, her fingers popping open a few of his top shirt buttons; then he was hauling her away from the door, turning them so he was walking her backward into the bedroom, his digits deftly pulling down the zipper at the back of her dress. They came to a stop, the kissing continuing while he carefully pulled the straps off her arms, the silk wedding dress cascading to the floor to pool at her feet.

Before the ceremony, when he snuck over here to talk to her as she got ready, she let him feel what she was wearing beneath the dress, and now he got to see. Javier held her fingers in one hand, unable to stop touching her, and took a step back to drink her in, his cock already throbbing and straining against the zipper of his dress pants.

His eyes stared at her beautiful face and moved downward—he loved her with or without makeup; he didn’t have a preference since he always thought she was gorgeous, just as she was now, all dolled up. His gaze moved to her chest, seeing the white, lacy strapless bra for the first time, and his fingers itched to undo it to see her perfect tits. Lower, she had on stretchy spandex like her bicycle shorts that went halfway up her abdomen and midway down her thighs—her reasoning for wearing the Spanx was so she didn’t look ‘lumpy’ or have panty lines in her dress that tightly hugged her figure; Javier wasn’t a fan of them hiding her belly, or the idea that she felt self-conscious enough to hide it, but they made her feel comfortable, and that was all that mattered. Plus, he knew if she turned around, he’d love how good the spandex made her ass look. He would’ve had her show him, however, his attention was stuck on the blue garter wrapped around her thigh, sitting just above her knee.

The strip of satin was dusty blue, with a bow made from the same material placed in the center over an overlay of ivory floral lace. The wedding tradition was to have the groom remove the garter and toss it into the crowd like the bride does with the bouquet, but Javier didn’t like the idea of getting under her dress in front of a tent full of people. It was something he wanted to do alone with her, because there was no way he was only removing the garter if he had a chance to get under her dress.

Her beauty, her smell, that damn blue garter, and the fact that once it was off, he could strip everything else she was wearing from below the waist from her had him hitting his breaking point—he needed her so bad, he thought he might go insane if he didn’t have his face buried in her pussy within the next two minutes. His lips landed on hers, kissing her hard and swallowing her moan, relishing her fingers sliding back into his hair. Their tongues were entangled, and with his hands on her waist, he spun them to the left, moving her backward a few steps, to press her spine against the wall. His heart was pounding in his chest, arousal curling in his gut, and his breaths panted when his mouth left hers to nip at her chin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, kissing a wet streak along her jaw. “So fucking beautiful.” His lips made a journey down her throat, sucking on her pulse point; she gasped, her hands pulling his hair harder, Javier groaning at the pleasurable pain.

He spoke his words into her skin as he kissed along her chest, “You’re my wife, my beautiful, sexy wife.” His head dipped, and Javier lightly sunk his teeth into the top of her breast.

“Javi,” she moaned. “Oh, god, why are you so hot?”

He soothed over his bite with a kiss and said when his face lifted, “Because I’m the hunkiest hunk to ever hunk.” Javier smirked.

She giggled, grinning at him. “You’re a sexy dork, is what you are.”

“Your sexy dork.”

“Yes, you are.” Her hands pushed down on his shoulders, and he understood immediately, starting to lower himself, kissing her body as he went—her neck, her chest, her tits, her stomach; Javier chose to ignore his joints popping when he took a knee.

He removed her thin shoe as he lifted her foot to rest on top of his thigh. Keeping his eyes on hers, he took the garter’s silk between his teeth and slowly pulled it over her bent knee, going lower until it fell freely down her calf to her ankle, where he took it off. Javier slid the soft, smooth fabric over his hand and up his arm to wear it on his bicep for everyone to see.

She was smiling down at him, her eyes darkened. “I am so in love with you.”

“I’m so in love with you,” he replied, kissing the side of her thigh. He set her foot back onto the ground, their gazes locked while he took off and pocketed the golden cufflinks from his wrists, speaking as he began rolling up his sleeves, “I’m going to make you come with my mouth,” he said, finishing one, and starting on the second. “Then, as I told you earlier, I’m fucking you against this wall—” He nodded at the one behind her. “—while you taste your pussy on my tongue.” Both of his sleeves were rolled up his forearms. “Any requests?” he asked and got his fingers under the waistband of her Spanx.

“Yes.” She nodded and cupped his cheek with her palm. “After you come deep inside me, where I promise to keep you all night, you’re going to tie your bow tie around my arm—if you're wearing my garter, then I'm wearing your bow tie."

Javier wasn’t a possessive man, yet knowing she’d wear so many things to show she was his, and only his, had his chest swelling up with pride and happiness vibrating under his skin—like her, he wanted to broadcast to everyone that he was hers, and hers alone, and the ring on his finger wasn’t enough for him tonight.

The sound he made was practically a growl as he tugged the stretchy fabric down her legs, revealing that she was wearing nothing beneath it. He couldn’t help himself and shoved his face between her legs, deeply inhaling her while freeing her foot from the shorts, her hands clutching his hair. Javier’s mouth was watering at the thought of tasting her, and he became impatient, raising the leg he freed onto his shoulder to give him room to work with—two of his fingers spread open the lips of her sex, seeing it glistening with her need for him.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he said, and he meant it. Javier licked his lips, and he was unable to wait for another second, leaning in—

Knocking sounded on the bedroom door, his head whipping toward the noise.

“Hey,” his dad’s muffled voice said, “when you’re finished getting ready, I told Connie that Nate can sleep in Javi’s old bed—the poor little guy can barely keep his eyes open, and the music is too loud for him to sleep out there. If only the nursery were finished, we could’ve had him give it a test drive.” Chucho chuckled. “Oh, and Mija, Robyn wanted me to tell you she requested one of your favorite songs.”

Javier loved his dad a lot, especially how he cared about his friends’ family, but the man had the worst timing. Frustration had him wanting to pull his hair out because there was no way he could continue what they were doing when his sobrino (nephew) needed a place to sleep; that was more important than Javier getting his dick wet. He looked up at his wife to commiserate over their bad luck, and his stomach dropped at seeing her hands hiding her face in embarrassment—it reminded him of the first time he’d brought her out here to meet his dad and how mortified she’d been when the elder Peña knocked while Javier was inside her. Her discomfort had his arousal fizzling out, guilt and concern replacing it; he needed to make her feel better, so he slid a hand up the outside of her bare thigh to rub comforting circles on her hip.

“Amor,” he whispered for just her ears. “Pop would be teasing the fuck out of us if he knew what we were up to—he doesn’t know.”

Her palms lowered, and her expression said she wasn’t sure if she believed him.

“Give us ten minutes, Pop!” Javier said, loud enough for his father to hear.

Her eyes rounded. “We are not fucking,” she hissed.

His eyebrow arched, speaking quietly, “I know, and I’m no two-pump chump. We’d need more than ten minutes to fuck, baby.” He gently got her leg off his shoulder.

“I’ll let Connie know,” Chucho said. “And I’ll make sure they don’t play the song until you’re out there.”

“Thanks, Pop!” Cielito replied.

“You’re welcome, see you soon.”

Javier used his hands on his knee to push himself up to stand, grunting as he rose to his feet in front of his wife. He rubbed his palms along her upper arms, then lifted her chin with his finger to make her look at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She was frowning. “The risk of getting caught? Hot. It really gets me going. Actually getting or almost getting caught? Mortifying, and I’d rather the earth swallow me whole than experience it.”

“Lo siento, mi amor (I’m sorry, my love). I know you hate when it happens. I get it if you want to hold off trying anything else before we leave. But, if you still wanna fool around while we’re out here, we’ll have better luck in the laundry room, or I can grab a lantern from the barn for the hayloft.”

It was on her face that she was weighing his suggestions, and the fact that she was even considering had excitement thrumming inside him. He, of course, was fine with waiting to fuck until they got to the hotel room he was surprising her with tonight, but holy shit, was he unbelievably horny for her.

“I’m not feeling the scratchiness of hay or getting my cute white dress dirty,” she responded. “I’d be down for the laundry room, though—you’re right, location-wise, it’s perfect.”

He smiled big, happily chuckling as he kissed her. When he broke away, he nuzzled his nose against hers.

“I really fucking love you,” he said.

“I really fucking love you, too.”

Javier pressed his large palm to her cheek and gazed into her eyes, the expression on her face just as happy as his. “Soy el hombre más afortunado del mundo de poder llamarme tu esposo (I am the luckiest man in the world to be able to call myself your husband).”

Her eyes softened. “La afortunada soy yo (I’m the lucky one). Tengo el honor de ser tu esposa (I have the honor of being your wife)—” She poked him in the chest. “—y tener a tus bebés lindos (and having your cute babies).”

The happiness and excitement of all she said being true had him wrapping her up in his arms, her feet coming off the ground as he spun them around in place, making her laugh. When they came to a stop, he was panting, the two of them wearing matching grins, and Javier couldn’t think of another day in his entire life that he’d ever been as happy as he was today—it indeed was the happiest day of his life, and what made his eyes start misting was knowing this was the first of many happiest days of his life that were yet to come.

It was she who kissed him this time, her hands grabbing his face to pull him into her as she smashed her lips against his. Javier leaned further into her, hugging her tightly to have as much of them touching as possible. He loved how their bodies fit so perfectly together—the softness of hers giving way to the hardness of his own.

They wore big smiles when they separated, Cielito giggling at him playfully smacking her ass as she moved away. He turned to watch her approach his old full-size bed, unable to keep his eyes from roaming over her body from behind.

God, she was sexy—how’d he get so lucky?

The dress she was wearing to the party was laid out atop the mattress, and he was so focused on checking her out that he missed what she picked up from beside her outfit. He wasn’t in the dark for long, though, with her purposefully keeping her back to him while pulling on a white lacy thong—he was still hard, and the sight had his dick twitching, a groan tumbling from his throat. Javier’s hands went to the front of his slacks to adjust himself, trapping his hard-on under the waistband of his pants.

She looked at him over her shoulder, her pretty eyes sparkling with mischief, her lips lifted in a smile that told him she knew exactly what she was doing. “I wanted it to be a surprise for when we got home,” she said. “But, I kinda like you knowing what awaits when you get under my dress.” She winked.

His feet were moving of their own accord. “Fuck, are you trying to kill me?” he asked, and as he got closer to her, he could see the lace lining the tops of her asscheeks that went around her waist had a floral design—sunflowers, to be exact. Before he could reach her, she spun around to face him, putting up her hand to keep him back; it pressed against his chest as he stopped.

“No touching,” she quickly told him with a smirk, his own lips turning down in a frown. “And kill you? No.” She shook her head. “Torture you? Maybe a little.” Cielito shrugged.

“Torture your new husband? That’s pretty fucking mean, mi amor.”

Her palm moved to caress his cheek. “Can’t a girl love it when her husband is needy for her?”

Javier took her hand and pressed it against the front of his pants, over his hard cock. “Feel how needy your husband is for you, how I want you more than anything, and am dying to be inside you—your ass in that fucking thong is all I’m gonna be able to think about until I get another chance alone with you.”

She squeezed him, and it had his mouth going slack, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped.

"Good—that's exactly what I want." She pecked him on the lips and let go of him, her upper body twisting to grab her dress off of the bed. "Now, stop distracting me. I’m in a hurry," she said, pulling the garment over her head. Her arms went through the spaghetti straps, and she turned away from him again, holding the front of the dress to her chest, the back gaping open along the bodice. "Can you zip me up, babe? Pretty please."

"Yeah," he answered and did as she requested, carefully zipping her up and managing to kiss her bare shoulder once before she faced him again.

The day she bought the dress for the party, she showed it to him when she got home and even modeled it for him. At that time, he still had it in his head that he was going to do things right by her and wait to consummate their marriage until he got her to the hotel. When he saw her in the tight, white satin that went down to her knees with a goddamn slit halfway up her left thigh, Javier knew his strength was going to be tested tonight; he really did hope he could hold out.

Unfortunately, his resolve was thrown out the window the night before when he had to spend it alone, thinking about the sexy woman in front of him, and Jesus Christ, was she so fucking sexy—he could see now that it was a shorter, sexier version of her wedding dress with the neckline V-ing to accentuate her tits, while the buttery soft fabric molded to her curves perfectly like the other dress.

“Do I look okay?” she asked, and his attention went to her face, seeing she was looking down at her body with a frown, which made him match her expression.

Javier hated when she doubted her beauty, and he wished she could see from his perspective just how perfect she was.

He lifted her chin with his finger to make her meet his gaze, and he smiled. “You look more than okay, Cielito,” he reassured her. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” he very confidently replied.

His eyes moved down her form again, taking in her beauty, and he wet his bottom lip, silently cursing that they couldn’t stay in this room alone and uninterrupted for a quickie. His gaze reached hers one more, and amusement was clear on her face. She kissed his cheek as she walked around him to put on her shoe.

“What?” he asked, turning in place to look at her.

She kept her balance with a hand on the wall while fitting her flat back onto her foot.

“You’ve got ‘fuck me’ eyes,” she replied, setting her shoed foot on the ground and moving toward the door.

He started heading her way. “I have ‘fuck me’ eyes?” he retorted. He was glad she was over her moment of self-consciousness. “Baby, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy all night, giving me ‘fuck me’ eyes.”

She stopped to bend over and pick something up off of the floor, his gaze stuck on her ass, picturing the white lace he knew was under the satin.

“And I’m gonna keep giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes until you fuck me, Javier.” She straightened and spun on her heel to look at him.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you think I’m not trying hard enough?”

“I think you’re doing the best you can in our current situation, and I know, without a doubt, you’re gonna use that big, sexy brain of yours to find us a way to fool around uninterrupted. I mean this lovingly,” she continued, reaching out to touch his arm with her palm. “You’re a stubborn man and horny stubborn Javi cannot be stopped—we both wanna fuck, and you’re gonna figure out a way for us to fuck, because you are a wonderful husband.”

Javier loved hearing her call him a wonderful husband.

He smiled. “You really think my brain is sexy?”

Her eyebrow lifted. “Javi, baby, all of you is sexy, including your brain, and you are aware your intelligence turns me on—like how when we go stargazing, you nerding out about the stars makes me wet and is a very effective form of foreplay.”

That was true—they always end up fucking when they go stargazing. Javier couldn’t stop his chest from puffing up a little that his wife was turned on by how smart he was.

She rolled her eyes and kept talking, “It seems your ego has been stroked enough.” She held out his bow tie to him. “Here. Take this. We need to get going.”

His brows furrowed—he thought they were adjusting their outfits to be more comfortable when they went back out to the party. He didn’t understand why she’d want him to put his tie back on.

“Really? I’ll wear it, but you have to tie it.”

His fingers started re-buttoning his shirt, and Cielito batted at his hands. “Stop that—you’re not wearing it, you’re tying it onto my arm. Remember?”

She still wanted to wear his bow tie, which made his heart so happy it could burst. Javier grinned, accepting the long strip of black fabric.

“I do,” he said, and she turned to give him better access to her arm, choosing the same side he had her garter on. He lifted her limb by the elbow and ducked his head to kiss a spot midway down her bicep, then looped his bow tie around where he kissed, tying it like he’d tie shoelaces.

Before they left, they picked up their discarded clothes, hanging up her dress and his tuxedo jacket in his old closet, her Spanx getting put into her overnight bag, which she’d brought with her the previous night when she stayed over. His lips found hers one last time, then he took her smaller hand into his and led her out of the room.

Music blared outside the house, but inside, it was dampened aside from the pounding bass that could practically be felt. They found Connie and their dad sitting at the kitchen table, Chucho holding the Murphy’s youngest and feeding him a bottle while he quietly chatted with the mother.

Yeah, it sucked that Javier and his wife were interrupted before things could get good, but seeing the look of relief and gratitude on their friend’s face when they told her the room was hers completely washed away any bad feelings they had. See, since he and Cielito were trying to start their family, babies were on both of their brains, and they could put themselves into Connie’s shoes, wanting to help out the mother in any way possible; after she left the kitchen with Nate, his father explained that Steve had the two older kids back at the party eating cake, and Chucho happily volunteered to give Connie a hand even though she vehemently protested. He told her he wanted to get some practice in being an abuelo, and she thought that was so sweet she let him make the bottle—which he knew how to do from when Javier was a baby and from the bottle-fed calves on the ranch, like Daphne and Velma—and try to get Nate asleep by feeding him, an endeavor he succeeded in doing.

Chucho was pretty fucking proud of himself.

He told them he picked Connie’s brain about what he should get for the nursery because things weren’t as simple as they were back when Javier was born—he somehow figured out a way to write down a list while feeding Nate, and at the top of it, ‘Diaper Genie’ was underlined twice, and circled.

They loved their father’s excitement over becoming a grandfather. Even with the pressure sometimes stressing them out, Chucho meant well, and they appreciated the extra support.

Minutes later, the newlyweds found themselves under the tent and on the dance floor.

Javier knew which song Robyn requested the moment he heard the opening synthesizers—if his wife ranked her favorite ABBA songs, “Lay All Your Love On Me” would take the top spot, and her ear-splitting squeal as it came on confirmed as much.

His hands were on her hips while her arms were around his neck, and up until this point, her eyes had been closed as they moved to the rhythm of the previous song; now they were open, and the expression on her face showed her pure delight, which made him smile. She threw her hands up when the drums kicked in, bouncing on her toes to the beat.

She sang along with the track:

“I wasn’t jealous before we met…”

If it wouldn’t ruin her performance, Javier would tell her after each of the lines that there wasn’t a single woman on the entire planet that was a threat to her, and he liked that she was a little possessive of him; that he was the only man she wanted, and she staked her claim that he was hers.

The following line had her miming taking a drag of a cigarette, and it made him chuckle before a tingle was moving down his spine at her palm pressing to his cheek as she stared deeply into his eyes. With the time since they left his old bedroom, Javier had calmed down to the point that he wasn’t hard anymore, something he didn’t think would last.

“But now it isn’t true.”

Her hand moved to rest over his thudding heart.

“Now everything is new

And all I’ve learned has overturned I beg of you.”

She had both of her palms on his chest, their gazes locked, and he knew he was fucked.

“Don’t go wasting your emotion—”

As she sang, her darkened eyes stayed on his as her body lowered, her hands following, dragging them down his abdomen, over his stomach, his waist, his thighs, to the tops of his knees until her head was at the same level as his crotch. With how she was looking up at him under her eyelashes and how close she was to his dick, his mouth went dry, the blood rushing to his groin. He had to hold back his groan at the thought of how she would’ve nuzzled the front of his pants if they were alone. He needed to touch her and rested his hands on her bare shoulders.

She continued singing:

“—Lay all your love on me.”

His wife rose, rubbing her palms back up the way they came, and it was embarrassing that he was so pent up that just her touch was fucking him up. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead; she had him feeling hot enough that he had to undo another button on his shirt.

Cielito faced away from him, grinding her ass against his half-hard cock, and she rolled her head back onto his shoulder, reaching a hand behind her to thread fingers into his hair. His hands fell to her hips, pulling them back into his, and when he turned his head to look at her as she sang that ‘a grown-up woman should never fall so easily,’ she was giving him those damn ‘fuck me’ eyes—he loved her so fucking much, but she was going to be the death of him.

He let his body move with hers and thought it wasn’t fair that he was the one getting worked up—two could play this very dangerous game. Javier ducked his head to kiss along the skin of her shoulder and up to her neck, where he sucked over her pulse. The way her voice faltered for a second only encouraged him.

He grazed his teeth across the pounding pulse point, ending with a nip to her jaw.

“—Fuck,” the last word was moaned, and he smiled, feeling her entire body shiver.

His wife caught onto what he was doing and spun away from him to end up at his back with her front pressed to his spine—her arms went around him, singing while her palms started at his belly and trailed up his torso to his pecs where he grabbed them. He raised one of her hands, rubbing it against his smooth cheek, and then kissed the center of her palm.

This wasn’t the first time she’d done something like this, and Javier didn’t know what it was about this song in particular that riled her up so much. When “Lay All Your Love On Me” came on while they were by themselves at home, her antics were even hornier, and she usually made him sit back on the couch while she gave him a fully-clothed lap dance. Her kryptonite, though? The thing that made it a 100% guarantee they were going to fuck after the song? Was him singing it. He loved that the simplest things turned her on, and if it got her to disappear to the laundry room with him, he had no problem exploiting her weakness.

He turned in her hold, slotting his knee between both of hers, his hand gripping her hip while the other grasped her palm, and he started moving them to the music in the little space they occupied. His lips went to her ear, and she immediately went quiet as he softly crooned along with the song:

“‘Cause everything is new

And everything is you

And all I’ve learned has overturned

What can I do?”

“You can kiss me,” she said, breaking her hand free from his to grab his face with both of hers to kiss him hotly.

He gave as good as he got, wrapping one arm around her middle, his free hand cradling the back of her skull. She sought entrance to his mouth with a swipe of her tongue along the seam of his lips, and he eagerly opened to tangle his own with hers.

How they knew each other so well had happiness swelling inside him. She was his best friend, the love of his life, and there wasn’t anyone else he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

The two of them were breathing hard when their lips detached at the song’s end, both smiling. She was giving him that look that told him she was on the same page as him for where they were about to go.

“You wanna get out of—” His question died when someone clapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Jav?” Steve said to get his attention, and Javier couldn’t help his glare when he looked at the other man. His friend’s expression pinched in confusion. “Why the hell are you giving me that look?”

Javier took a deep breath and slowly let it out, schooling his features to hide his annoyance. “What did you need?”

“It’s getting kind of late for the kids, and Olivia was looking forward to dancing with you. Can you dance to one song with her? It’d mean a lot to her, and to me ‘cause it’ll get her to stop talking to that boy, Efraim.” Steve jutted his thumb back toward their table where Olivia was laughing at Efraim, who was one of his primo’s kids and about her age. Chucho was over there, too, with Connie, a baby monitor in front of her, and both adults watching Stevie, the three-year-old playing with his Ninja Turtle action figures on the table next to them, the woman saying something to his dad. His friend was frowning. “I’m not ready for my baby girl to like boys, and I don’t like that he’s making her laugh so much.”

The reminder that he promised Olivia a dance was like having ice-cold water poured over him, his stomach dropping to the floor that he’d forgotten. He took in what Steve said, and he wanted to be annoyed with the older man’s overprotectiveness, but once again, he could step into the parent’s shoes. He also wouldn’t be ready for his nine-year-old daughter to like boys—if he had a daughter, he wouldn’t be ready for her to like boys at any age, even though that was irrational, and he knew it’d happen at some point; hopefully when she was twenty-five, or better yet, thirty.

“Efraim’s a sweet kid, Steve,” Cielito said. “Olivia is just making a new friend—you weren’t complaining earlier when Javi was dancing with his tías, and she was playing with all those other children.” Most of Javier’s fourteen cousins had more than one kid, and that meant there were a lot of children running around.

“That was a group,” Steve replied. “I’m not big on this one-on-one stuff.”

Javier could see this heading into an argument between his wife and best friend, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with that, so he’d nip it in the bud.

His attention turned to Cielito, rubbing his palms along her arms. “Hey,” he said, and she looked at him. “I’m gonna go dance with Olivia. I promised her I would, and I’ll feel like shit if I don't keep my word.” He leaned in closer to whisper in her ear. “Don’t wander off—as soon as I’m done, you’re coming with me, and I’m getting you out of those panties.” To punctuate his sentence, he grabbed a handful of her ass, making her giggle.

“You better.” She winked, and he smiled, giving her a quick kiss.

Past-you deserved a high-five for thinking to fool around on the drive back to Chucho’s. The thought of how insanely grumpy Javi would be right now if you hadn’t was enough to make you shudder. Steve should honestly thank you for saving him from getting his head chewed off when he derailed your sexy laundry room plans.

Having your two attempts at horny rendezvous interrupted wasn’t great, and you were starting to develop whatever the woman equivalent of ‘blue balls’ was. You couldn’t be mad at Pop or Steve, though, because they had good reasons: Nate needing a place to sleep away from all the noise? Understandable—the living room couch was taken by a couple of Javi’s cousin’s babies, and since Chucho gutted the guest bedroom to turn it into a nursery, Javi's old bed was the only option for the Murphy’s one-year-old. Steve, reminding your husband that he promised Olivia a dance? A good reminder, because if they left while Javi and you were busy fucking, your husband would’ve been really upset with himself for letting her down; he already worried about her feeling like she was less important to him with all of the changes in his life, and forgetting the dance would’ve been devastating for them both.

What this highlighted was how much of a family man Javier was. His desires came secondary to his family’s needs, and that showed what a wonderful husband he already was.

You married a good, good man, and dear god, he was so hot.

Diego was playing another track by Los Tucanes de Tijuana with a quick beat, “El Tucanazo.” Olivia was laughing as Javi made her twirl with a grin on his flushed face and pulled her back to him. With their height difference, his arm was fully extended to hold her shoulder, her small palm resting on his elbow, while his other hand kept her tinier one up to lead her in simple steps that involved a lot of him twirling her—she was absolutely loving it.

It had you imagining Javier dancing with your future daughter, and what really gave you the warm fuzzies was knowing he’d start dancing with her as a baby in his arms—he’d dance with all of your babies.

What a wonderful husband and future father.

“Spin, tía!” Stevie yelled in your arms.

Right. When Javi asked Olivia to dance, the three-year-old felt left out and got upset, so in order to stop him from having a total meltdown—it was past his bedtime—you offered to dance with him, as his new tía and the wedding’s bride. You had him on your hip, holding his little hand in yours, and you accidentally got distracted by your husband’s hotness.

“Sorry, kiddo,” you replied, bouncing with him to the music’s rhythm. The child giggled each time you spun, going one way, then the other, and pausing every once in a while so you didn’t get dizzy. During one of those pauses, you happened to catch Javi’s dark eyes staring at you, and it made you feel pretty incredible that he was just as distracted by you.

When the song ended, Connie and Steve decided it was time to get their children back to their hotel. They weren’t accustomed to these parties that went on for hours like your new family was, and they didn’t want to mess with boys’ sleep schedules too much. Goodbyes were made outside of the tent, with the promise to Olivia and Stevie that you’d all eat an early dinner together the following day at their hotel’s restaurant before their flight home. After watching the Murphys walk back into the house to get Nate on their way to their SUV out front, the two of you were alone, Javi holding you from behind with his chin on your shoulder.

“Five minutes?” you asked, “Or should we play it safe and wait ten?”

“Five minutes isn’t enough time,” he spoke in your ear. “Connie will have everyone use the bathroom before their drive back into town. We add in Nate maybe needing a diaper change, and we’re looking at a minimum of ten minutes before they’re out of the house and on their way.”

You hugged his arms to you, smiling. “Look at you having the family-with-small-children math down,” you said, turning your head to kiss his cheek. “What do you wanna do while we wait?”

“We could make out?”

“That sounds like a good time.”

Diego came over the speakers, announcing, “Bien, vamos a frenar las cosas (Okay, let’s slow things down).” Selena’s “Dreaming Of You” started playing.

“Or,” Javi started, “we could slow dance…?”

“What a romantic man—may I have this dance, Mr. Peña?”

“You may, Mrs. Peña.” He kissed a spot behind your ear, then moved to take your hand, leading you back into the tent to the dance floor that was occupied by many other couples.

When he suggested slow dancing, you imagined it’d be like how you danced your first dance, and at home in the kitchen many times before, with him leading you by one of your hands while the two of you slowly moved. You weren’t expecting him to loop your arms around his neck or for him to pull you into him with his big palms midway between your waist and ass to have you dancing like a couple of teenagers at prom. You nestled your face in the crook of his neck where he dabbed some of his spicy cologne, and the two of you swayed back and forth while Selena sang about there being nowhere else in the world she’d rather be than in her room, dreaming about herself with the one she loved.

This was the first moment all day where you felt relaxed—there were no more worries about setting up the party, the ceremony was done, and so were the dances. Now, you were just another pair on the dance floor, slowly moving to the music. There was no need for talking. Both of you simply enjoying the other’s company without everyone’s attention on you.

When the song ended, you still needed to kill another handful of minutes, and that was how you ended up camped out by the house’s backdoor, sharing a slice of your wedding cake—it was vanilla cake with lemon curd filling and raspberry buttercream icing. Like all of Anna’s baked goods, the cake was incredible. You each had your own plastic fork while Javi held the small paper plate. Your husband kept peeking through the door’s window, trying to keep out of the way of the few people going in and out of the home.

A disappointed sound came from you when, in the middle of taking a bite, Javi suddenly tossed the rest of the cake into a nearby trashcan along with his fork and grabbed your hand.

“Let’s go,” he said, and you only had a split second to toss your own fork into the garbage before you were getting tugged along into the house.

The backdoor led down a hall to the kitchen, and just inside the door to the right was the staircase that went up to Chucho’s room. If you walked a little further down the hallway, the guest bathroom was on the right, and another hallway was to the left, which would take you to the guest bedroom—soon to be nursery—and the laundry room.

Anticipation swelled inside you, arousal burning in your belly again now that you were on your way to finally having your husband alone and uninterrupted. The two of you were being as quiet as possible so as not to draw any attention to you, and once you entered the darkened hallway to your destination, you found yourself getting pressed back against a wall and Javi’s lips claiming yours—this wasn’t a chaste kiss; it was filthy with how his tongue plundered your mouth, feeling his desperation and need to have you. Your fingers clutched at the front of his dress shirt, and with his strength, he pulled you along by the hips, Javi walking backward while your lips stayed fused together.

The bass of the track Diego was playing could be heard, but the closer you got to the laundry room, there were other muffled noises, one staying on beat with the song and another—

“Harder,” Robyn moaned on the other side of the door, and the dull smacking sound got louder.

You and Javi came to a sudden stop, his mouth breaking away from yours as his head turned at breakneck speed toward the obvious sounds of your best friend and his cousin fucking in the laundry room.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” your husband quietly growled.

From where you were standing, you could make out Sebastián grunting as he continued to thrust, “You’re mine, aren’t you? You’re my good little slut—say it.”

“I’m your good little slut,” Robyn breathily whined.

“That’s fucking right—open your mouth.” There was the unmistakable sound of the other man spitting, and you were stuck in place, eyes wide. “Swallow—that’s it, mi petirrojito (my little robin). You gonna come for me? You need my hand around that pretty throat?”

Now, you and Robyn had discussed your sex lives at length, so you were aware of her kinks, but knowing and hearing were two different things, and she was really making you wonder if there was some merit to her calling you and Javi ‘vanilla.’ Your husband had apparently heard enough and took your hand once more to lead you back outside.

From how tense his body was and the way he practically stormed out of the house with you in tow, you could tell your husband was pretty ticked off. He only stopped when you were in front of Daphne and Velma’s small metal-fenced corral, where the two calves were let loose—they were lying down together and got up when they saw you two making your way over.

“Stay here,” Javi ordered. He let go of your hand, but you grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving.

“Wait.” He looked at you, anger that you knew wasn’t directed at you etched on his face. “Where are you going?”

His features softened the longer he gazed at you. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, perching his palms on his tiny hips. “I’m sorry, mi amor—I’m just—” He looked around to make sure no one was nearby and quietly continued, “—really fucking horny—”

“You’ve got blue balls,” you interrupted.

He huffed in amusement, smiling a little. “Yeah, I’ve got blue balls, and I think I might go insane—”

“If we’re cockblocked again?”

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Yes. Three fucking times—three!” he harshly whispered, holding up three fingers for emphasis. “Over my dead fucking body will we be cockblocked a fourth time, so I’m getting us some goddamn privacy away from all of these people—I love them all, but I love you, my wife, more, and I’m dying to stick my dick in you. I need you to stay right here. That way, I’ll know where to find you after I get shit arranged.”

That sounded like he was ready to go.

Grabbing his left hand, you pulled his arm toward you and angled your head to read the silver Rolex watch on his wrist under the light of the string lights above. “It’s not even ten, babe. We’ll get so much shit from your family if we dip this early.” Your eyes met his. “They’ll be partying til two or three in the morning at minimum, and we’re gonna leave at 9:42?”

The fingers of his free hand pressed to his forehead, and he sighed again. “If you really wanna stay,” he grumbled, “we’ll stay and wait to leave closer to midnight.” His tone said that was the last thing he wanted to do, and you understood where he was coming from.

You reached to caress his cheek. “I’m fine with leaving, Javi,” you told him. “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t the horny talking, and you understand we are going to get absolutely roasted at tía María’s next Sunday if we leave right now.” Every Sunday after his family got out of church, they went to tía María’s for good food and to catch up on what happened over the week.

His hand lowered, and he looked at you with hopeful eyes. “Are you okay with getting teased at tía María’s next weekend if we leave right now?”

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Oh, yeah,” you replied, nodding. “I’m dealing with the lady equivalent of blue balls, and I’ll accept all of the teasing if it means you’re gonna fuck me very soon.”

Once again, it was adorable how his face lit up, and he giddily chuckled. “Christ, I love you so fucking much,” he said and framed your face with his palms, Javi leaning in to kiss you tenderly.

When his mouth left yours, he was still smiling, and he lifted your left hand, keeping his eyes on yours while he kissed the diamond on your engagement ring and then the smooth gold of your wedding band. “I’ll be back,” he told you, and didn’t let go of your fingers as he started heading toward the tent, your arm extending all the way before his hand and himself slipped away from you.

If you had to guess, Javi wanted you to stay in this spot so your bovine daughters could keep you company, which they were, the girls sticking their snouts between the corral’s bars for you to pet their heads. What your husband failed to think about was your location meant that, when Robyn and Seb came out of the house a few minutes after he left, you had no choice but to talk to them. For you, it was awkward pretending like you didn’t hear them fucking as you tried to convince your best friend to go enjoy the party with her boyfriend instead of staying with you while Javi was gone. Luckily, Sebastián was able to lure her away with promises of drinks and dancing.

The remaining minutes you waited for your husband’s return were spent with the two calves. You scritched behind their ears, and they licked your arms as you told them how much you loved them and their dad and shared your excitement over them eventually becoming older sisters to a human sibling.

Chucho had gifted you and Javi enough land for the home you were building that Daphne and Velma could live with you—a barn would be built, and you’d have a couple of pastures for the girls to roam. There was room for the garden you always dreamed of, a greenhouse, and even a chicken coop; your husband also planned on buying you a horse. Living out in the country was never something you imagined in your wildest dreams, yet now it seemed perfect for your life with Javier.

When your husband found you, he held up what you knew was the key to his father’s prized ‘68 Ford Mustang, and he had to be excited, even if you couldn’t tell from his expression. In the over thirty years Chucho had owned the car, Javi had never been allowed to drive it—Chucho let you drive it, though, many times, which your husband was extremely jealous about. His dad made him a deal that when he married you, he could finally get behind the wheel, and you’d been waiting all night for Chucho to hand over the keys.

Javi walked over to the fence to address the two calves in the sweet voice he saved for them, scratching each of the girls under their chins, “Lo siento, mis preciosas, pero necesito robar a tu mamá (I’m sorry, my lovelies, but I need to steal your mom). Me ha estado volviendo loco toda la noche, y es hora de que la lleve a casa y la vuelva loca (She’s been driving me crazy all night, and it’s time for me to take her home and drive her crazy) Las amamos y las veremos en un par de días (We love you and we will see you in a couple of days).”

The moment he finished speaking, he looked at you with a smile on his handsome face.

“Sorry it took me so long,” he said. “Pop gave me a long-ass lecture about the car and made me promise to be careful with it. He was acting like he wasn’t the one who taught me how to drive around the ranch when I was ten years old in the old work truck.”

“Of course he lectured you. The Mustang is his baby.”

His eyes darted away, sticking his hands in his pockets. “That he always lets you drive,” he mumbled.

See, extremely jealous. It made you giggle.

“You need some peanut butter with that jelly, Mr. Peña?”

His attention came back to you, and this time, he was frowning.

“No.” He shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, baby. You know it bothers me how easily he hands over the keys to you, but I only get to drive it this once. Or at least not again until we have a kid.”

Chucho would definitely let Javi drive the Mustang again if you had a child.

“Did he tell you where you could and couldn’t take it?” you asked.

His eyebrows creased. “No… He had a lot of rules about the type of terrain I could drive it on, but as long as I bring it back tomorrow with a full tank, I can drive you anywhere.”

Stepping forward into his space, you rested your palms against his chest, his arm automatically pulling you closer. “He trusts you more than me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I am only allowed to drive it if he’s in the car with me, and I can only go where he tells me to. He trusts you enough to let you borrow the Mustang and go wherever you want without him present—he trusts you more. Now, Mr. Peña, how about we make a quick pit stop at the bathroom to wash up, then we blow this popsicle stand so I can blow your popsicle on the drive home?” You wagged your eyebrows, Javi chuckling.

“You can blow my popsicle later, but yeah, let’s get the fuck out of here, Mrs. Peña.”

With it being winter in southern Texas, the temperatures had cooled, but at this time of night, a coat wasn’t required when one went outdoors. Javier still kept the top up on the Mustang and turned on the heater to keep his wife warm since all she was wearing was that cute little dress that he hiked up enough to grip her bare thigh as they drove.

Cielito was confused when they pulled out of his dad’s driveway and started heading in the opposite direction of town. She figured he’d take her straight home, and Javier thought her faith in him to hold out another thirty-plus minutes to drive them to their accommodations for the night was sweet. He, however, could not wait any longer and took them fifteen minutes up the road and through a gate that he had to get out and open, to the field they usually parked his pickup in to stargaze—driving off-road was on his father’s list of terrain he was not supposed to take the Mustang on, but this was a desperate time that required desperate measures, and what his father didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him.

Javier was going slow over the uneven ground, his eyes scanning everything in the path of the headlights for any animals—thankfully, this time of year, a lot of the creatures considered dangerous were hibernating or in a state close to hibernating, and his family, who worked on the ranch, did a good job of keeping predators off his dad’s land. He was still double-checking to ensure his wife was safe, even if he wasn’t worried about them running into anything.

“Javi?” She squeezed his hand on her thigh.

“Yes, mi amor?”

“I know I said stargazing was a very effective form of foreplay, but with how horny I am, all I need is a little bit of kissing and I’m good to go—there’s no need for you to woo me with your knowledge of the stars.”

“We’re not stargazing,” he replied, bringing the car to a stop and putting it into park. He looked over at her face, which was slightly illuminated by the Mustang’s lights in front of them, and smiled. “A little bit of kissing for me and I’ll be good to go, too.” He turned in his seat toward her, taking her chin between his index finger and thumb to gently pull her forward, and he met her halfway, his lips crashing into hers.

One kiss and the dam broke, all of their pent-up need for the other flooding their systems, his wife growling when she deepened it, sliding her tongue against his. Blood rushed to his groin, and Javier moaned when her hand pressed to the front of his pants to stroke over his thickening cock. Her tongue in his mouth, her palm between his legs, the scent of her perfume—she was driving him crazy, and he wanted her to feel the same; he got his hand under her dress, ghosting his fingers along her inner thigh to the heat at her center. His fingertips felt her arousal seeping through her panties, and he groaned at the fact she was ready to go. All he’d have to do was push aside the fabric, and he could slide right in—and he did just that with his fingers, moving the lace out of the way to press his middle and ring fingers into her sopping pussy, soaking his gold wedding band in her juices. He swallowed her shuddering moan, his crooked digits easily pumping in and out of her.

When he decided to bring her out here, he had a plan: he was going to sit her on the hood of the car and finally eat her out, then he would’ve fucked her on it. His plan changed when he felt how wet she was for him, and now all he wanted, no, needed, was to get his dick inside her.

He removed his fingers, Cielito chasing his lips when he pulled away, turning his attention to the steering wheel and the controls beside it. Squinting his eyes, he tried to find what he was looking for in the dark and pressed a button that made the roof begin to open.

“Thank fuck,” he whispered under his breath. In the time it took to get the top down, Javier undid his seatbelt, pushed his seat back as far as it would go, and reclined it all the way to have it almost flat. He didn’t have to say a word when he gently tugged her arm; there wasn’t a center console between the seats, just a low column, so it was easy for her to unbuckle and crawl over into his lap while he laid down.

Arousal was simmering in his gut and threatening to boil over. It didn’t help when she lifted his left hand and leaned down to suck his ring finger into her mouth—she hummed appreciatively at tasting herself, the sensation of her sucking his digit causing his cock to twitch, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Turns you on that I’m wearing the ring,” he rasped. “You love that people can see I’m yours.”

She came off of him, raising her head with a smile. “Yes,” she answered. “It’s so fucking sexy—now, it’s time to get that pretty dick out so I can sit on it.”

He smiled at her impatiently opening his pants, getting his belt unbuckled and undone, then popping open the button and pulling down the zipper. She rose, and so did his hips, Javier shoving his slacks and boxer briefs down enough to free his throbbing length and sat once more.

She was looking down. “The prettiest dick,” she said, and he watched her lick her palm, his mouth falling open as she took him in hand, giving him a couple of strokes. Christ, he could feel the metal of her rings and was so worked up that just her touch had him close to coming. Sweat was forming on his forehead as he tried to focus on his breathing and not blow his load all over her fingers. “If you come immediately,” she started, her other hand moving her underwear out of the way for her to notch him at her entrance. Javier swallowed hard and grabbed the meat of her thighs for something to hold onto. “It’s totally okay,” she continued. “I know you’ll make it up to me later.”

She meant what she said, and he appreciated her understanding, but he really wanted her to come first, and he was going to try his hardest to make that happen.

Cielito didn’t give him a chance to respond before she was sliding, agonizingly slow, down his shaft, her hot, tight walls enveloping him, taking him inch by inch. He couldn’t help the pained sound he made or how his back arched, his fingers digging into her soft skin. She had her palms on his chest for leverage, her eyes fluttering closed, her head thrown back as she let out a long, drawn-out moan that lasted until she met his thighs, and he was buried to the root in her.

“Nothing feels better than you inside me,” her words were breathy.

Javier was fighting for his life—a fire was blazing in his belly, and he was balancing on a razor’s edge to not fall over and come immediately. He gripped the soft curves of her hips to hold her flush against him because he didn’t know how much friction he could handle.

His breaths were coming out heavier, and he gulped, telling her through clenched teeth, “Don’t move.”

She looked at him, the soft glow of the stars high above allowing him to make out her features, and her expression said she was delighted he was so close. He was pretty sure she was the only woman on the planet who took it as a compliment when a man came way sooner than he intended.

“I said it’s okay if you come.” She wiggled, and Javier hissed. He used more strength to keep her completely still.

“I’m not coming before you.”

The Mustang was a little cramped, and in order for her to fit on top of him, she had to strategically place her knees on things that weren’t the seat, like the low column that the gear shift was in and a ledge on the door used for an armrest.

“You are a stubborn man, Javier Peña,” she said.

“I’ll show you how stubborn I am,” he replied, and she squeaked in surprise when he pulled her forward to kiss him. His hand went to her back, unzipping her dress, and she understood what he wanted, getting her arms out of the straps while he undid her strapless bra that fell into the dress’ bodice.

Javier had her sit up again, and he stared at her above him, thinking how gorgeous she looked; she was always stunning, and he thought she was even more beautiful now that she was his wife—he couldn’t believe she had married him. He got to fuck this perfect woman for the rest of his life, and he felt like the luckiest man in the world. He was hard inside her and pulsating, the muscles in his stomach clenched tight with all of his effort being put into not coming.

“Stay still,” he ordered.

“Yes, Papí,” she sweetly replied. Her answer made him groan, his cock jerking.

“Don’t,” he said and smacked her ass, which only made her giggle. Javier licked the pad of his thumb, then pressed it to her clit, and he loved how her breath hitched. “I’m gonna make you come,” he stated, circling the bundle of nerves. She tightened around him, and he grit his teeth, clearing his throat before he spoke again, his voice low, “I’m gonna make you come,” he repeated. “Then I’m going to fuck you, and we both know I won’t be able to last long, and that’s fine.” It was getting wetter where they were joined, her arousal dripping down to coat his balls. “Because after this—” His other hand reached to fondle her breast, her eyes squeezing shut when he rolled her nipple between his fingers. “—I’m taking you to the hotel I rented us a room at.”

“Javi,” she gasped and looked at him.

He smiled, speeding up the pace of his thumb. “I plan on fucking all night, and I don’t want to be interrupted by Mrs. Hernandez banging on the wall because we’re being too loud—so, a hotel room—La Posada downtown.” It was the nicest hotel in Laredo and much better than the Motel 6 off the highway. “The Presidential suite, top floor. I’m gonna fuck you in the king-size bed, I’m gonna fuck you in the whirlpool tub, I’m gonna fuck you in the two-person shower, I’m gonna fuck you out on the balcony overlooking the Rio Grande, I’m gonna fuck you on every single surface in that room over the next two nights.”

Her eyes widened. “Two nights?”

“Yes. For everything I wanna do, one isn’t enough, and the first thing I’m doing when we get there is throwing your ass onto the bed and eating you out—my come and all—for an hour.”

Her head fell back as she moaned.

His fingers continued pinching and rolling her stiff nipple. Her inner walls were fluttering, and he knew she was close with how she was unable to keep quiet, the soft sounds spilling from her lips and going straight to his cock.

“Are you gonna come for me?” he asked. “Are you gonna come for your husband? Once you go, I’m going to come deep inside your perfect pussy, and I’m going to keep you stuffed full of me—if you aren’t already pregnant, you will be.”

Shit, that last bit almost got him. Javier’s jaw was clenched, his heart beating a mile a minute.

It didn’t take much more to have her falling over the edge—her entire body seized up, her cunt choking his dick, as she shattered with a cry of his name.

“Fuck,” he panted. She was spasming around him, and the moment she went lax, he grabbed her ass, lifting her enough to thrust up into her. His feet were planted on the floorboard, and he started fucking into her rapidly, grunting with each stroke.

She fell forward and began mouthing at his neck.

“Oh, fuck,” he whined, closing his eyes.

After getting worked up so many times tonight and now being able to give in, he was hitting the point where he couldn’t stop himself from coming in record time even if he wanted to. It felt like his heart would beat out of his chest, and his wife was now nibbling on his earlobe, which wasn’t fair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, pleasure welling up inside him.

The muscles in his belly were winding tight, the fire now an inferno that would explode at any second.

Her lips pressed to his ear. “Come for me,” she whispered. “Come inside your wife. Put a baby in me.”

She was a siren, and he was a sailor at the mercy of her call—his balls tightened up, and he pulled her ass down, sheathing himself to the hilt inside her, coming with a guttural groan. His dick jerked and pulsed with spurts of his spend gushing into her inner depths, euphoria taking over his entire being. Everything went quiet, his mind going blissfully blank and his body relaxing.

The air was cool against your skin, yet you were warm, wrapped in Javi’s arms as you laid atop him, your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck. Here in the afterglow was when time ceased, and it felt as though you were the only two people in existence. Your body was all nice and relaxed; the need to get off had finally subsided… for now.

Learning that your husband booked you the Presidential suite at the fancy, old historic hotel downtown and the promises he made of all of the places in it he planned to fuck you already had arousal stirring low in your gut.

Javi’s breaths had evened out, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you, and though he wasn’t snoring, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was asleep right now with how hard he came. The Mustang was still running, a low rumble amongst the peace of a Texas winter’s night.

Rustling in the grass outside the car had your ears perking, and suddenly, your husband was bolting upright with you on top of him. Your back slammed into the steering wheel, the blaring honk of the horn causing you to scream. Javi quickly got something out of the glove compartment before he pushed you to the side and down across the center column, the man wheezing when you accidentally kneed him in the dick. You were lying halfway on the passenger seat with your hands covering your head since you had no idea what the danger was while your heart pounded.

Seconds later, a large palm pressed to your naked back, Javi’s voice a little higher than usual, “We’re safe.” He cleared his throat and spoke in a deeper tone, “Just a fucking armadillo—are you okay?”

“Please tell me you scared the shit out of me and got hit in the dick for a giant, rabid, man-eating armadillo.”

He huffed out a breath. “No, it’s a regular one, and from the looks of it, we scared the shit out of it—it rolled up into a ball.”

That was something you wanted to see. You awkwardly crawled to get all the way into your seat beside him, seeing out the windshield in the light of the headlights that there was an armadillo rolled up into a ball.

“Worth getting kneed in the groin?” you asked.

“Nothing is worth getting kneed in the dick.”

His answer made you snort. You needed to clean up the mess between your legs and remembered the little pack of tissues Chucho kept in the pocket of the driver’s side door. You looked over at Javi. “Can you pass me the—why the fuck are you holding a gun?!” you exclaimed, your eyes going wide. In his hand was some kind of revolver he was pointing up at the sky.

His expression showed his confusion. “To protect us..?”

That was obvious. You asked what you actually meant. “Where did you get the gun?”

The look on his face didn��t change. “The glove box…?” He nodded toward it. In front of you, it was still open. There wasn’t much in there, just an envelope with papers stuffed in it and a box of bullets that you assumed went with the revolver.

Shoving your face in your hands, your voice was muffled when you spoke, “Why does your dad have a gun in his car?”

Javi let out a long sigh and put his free hand on your back to rub soothing circles. “Baby,” he began gently, “we live in Texas—Pop lives out in the middle of fucking nowhere Texas. There are coyotes out here, mountain lions, bobcats, snakes—” You could hear him cringe with the last one; he wasn’t a fan of the reptiles. “—we have to carry around guns for our safety. You really think I take you out on Pop’s land without protection?”

“With your aversion to condoms, I figured you like to live dangerously.”

He huffed in amusement again. “You are the only woman I have an aversion to condoms with. In the past, I always wrapped it up because I didn’t like to take risks.”

That had you turning your head to meet his eyes. “Why me?”

“Why you, what?”

“Why were you willing to take the risk with me?”

He crookedly smiled, his hand moving to hold your cheek. “Because I trusted you. Two dates and you managed to gain my trust and steal my heart—you had me head over heels.“ Javi leaned, softly grunting as he put the gun back into the glove compartment and shut it. He kept talking, “I want you to know I’ve always been aware birth control isn’t 100% effective—“ His attention went to his door to grab the tissues that he handed to you, and you took. “—and when it crossed my mind that I could accidentally knock you up, I didn’t feel dread at the idea of raising a kid with you. It wasn’t like how I felt with—”

“She-who-must-not-be-named on our wedding day,” you interjected, not wanting to mention his ex Lorraine.

“I won’t—you know who I’m talking about. I didn’t feel dread when I thought about having a kid with you. I mostly just worried if it happened, you’d find out about my past and wouldn’t want me in your or our child’s life.”

That was utterly heartbreaking. “I’d never keep your kid from you or kick you out of my life.”

He was softly smiling. “I know that now, but you remember how fucked up my head was before I told you about Colombia.”

That was true. He believed you would leave him when you discovered what happened during his time with the DEA.

“It fucking kills me when I remember how hard you were on yourself.” You dropped the tissues into your lap and took one of his hands into both of yours. “I’m happy you’re better now, and guess what?”

“What?”

You grinned. “We’re married, and I’m going to have all of your babies—all of them, every single one, and I really can’t wait to see you become a dad, ‘cause you’re gonna be amazing, and our children will be so loved.”

His eyes were misting, and his smile matched yours. He freed his hand from yours to caress your face in his palms and kissed you. With how hard his lips pressed to yours, you could feel his love, his devotion, his happiness. This truly was the best day of his life, and it made you beyond happy to share it with him.

Your stomach growled, and Javi pulled back to look at you. “Are you hungry?”

When he brought you the plate of food earlier, you only tried a little bit of everything, and you didn’t fill up because you were nervous about the dances. Now that all of that was done, the hunger was catching up to you.

“Yes, can we stop by McDonald’s or something for a quick bite on our way to the hotel?”

“No,” he replied, and you frowned. “I had Steve and Connie take a bag of leftovers that tía María put together for us back to our hotel room because I knew you wouldn’t eat enough at dinner—I figured it’d be nerves.” He shrugged. “And yes, there’s a big ass slice of cake,” reading your mind as always.

The Murphy family was staying at the same hotel and hopefully on a very different floor than your room.

His response had you smiling big. “Not even twenty-four hours married, Mr. Peña, and you’re already husband of the year.”

He smiled and leaned in, pecking you on the lips. “Good,” he said and nudged the tip of his nose against yours. “I gotta make sure I keep my title as the hunkiest hunk to ever hunk.”

You bursted into laughter, and he joined.

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#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña x reader #Javier Peña/reader #javier peña x you #javier peña smut #wheresarizona writes #learning to live series

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armandisdaddy · 4 months

Text

Arrogance (Modern Au!)

(Daemon Targaryen x Fem Reader)

(Content/ Warning: 18 +, Age-gap, cheating, angst, swearing, violence, avoidance, p in v penetration, sexual innuendos, cat and mouse.)

(Summary: After finding out your boyfriend and best friend have been screwing behind your back you find comfort in the one person you cannot stand…there won’t be any sex in this chapter. But it’s coming…)

Chapter One

Today was you and your boyfriend Aemond’s third anniversary. You enjoyed the three years you spent with him and even the thoughts of marriage and children bounced around your mind. Things weren’t perfect but beyond everything you were still “happy”. Today your best friend Alys was throwing a party in your honor. You were getting ready deciding on a dark green dress that hugged you just right and stopped just above you knees and two slits that came up either side. You looked amazing and you knew your man was going to love seeing you in it. You both showed up together looking like the perfect couple everything was going smoothly as everyone clapped or the both of you and your best friend was there to greet you. She gave you both a hug. “Oh my god’s y/n…you look amazing.” She gushed over you as she past you a drink.

The night was perfect and you and Aemond danced the night away along with a few of your other friends. You had a few drinks and the liquor was starting to set in when you notice your best friend and your boyfriend were no where to be found. You shrugged it off not thinking about it too much and then you realized you had to pee. Stumbling into the bathroom you heard a couple enjoying themselves in the stall next to yours and for a moment you cheered them on until you recognized the man’s voice that was echoing off the walls. You’re heart started to pound and your head was spinning so you leaned over to see the shoes that were planted on the floor it was Aemond’s dress shoes and Alys’s dress pooled on the floor. Being as drunk as you are you gasped and finally your presence was noticed. “Oh fuck…y/n..” Aemond said and you quickly got the fuck out of there. Running and sobbing Aemond was fixing himself tailing after you and so was Alys. Everyone saw it all and as you can suspect the party was over you were in your car too drunk to move it but you sobbed with your head pressed against the steering wheel. Aemond and Alys had been begging you to let them in so they could gaslight you into thinking you imagined what you heard and saw but after the first three attempts didn’t work they started going at each other yelling and cursing.

Your eyes were hot from all of the crying and your head pounded profusely from the pressure. You noticed that it finally got quiet they had decided to leave. “Thank the seven.” But you were yet again disturbed by a knock on your car window. This time it wasn’t Aemond or Alys it was his uncle Daemon. You were surprised to see him of all people at your car checking on you. He made it quite clear the first time he met you that he wasn’t too fond of you and after that you kept your distance. You let your window down a bit. “What do you want?” He wasn’t he usual arrogant self. His eyes were soft while he looked at you and finally he spoke. “Do you need a lift? You’re too drunk to drive.” You wanted him to say something snarky so you could come back with some witty comeback but he didn’t. “Yeah…I guess I do..” Stepping out you left the keys to Aemond’s porche inside it It didn’t matter at this point if someone stole it good for them you thought. “So where do you want to go?” He asked and you started to cry again realizing you couldn’t go back to the apartment you shared with Aemond and you could even go to your best friend’s place. “Hey hey…look you can come to my house I have a room you can sleep in yeah? Does that sound good?” You nodded still sniffling softly…, “Why are you helping me? I thought you didn’t like me..” He sighed and shrugged the question off, “Don’t worry about that right now. Let’s just get you somewhere warm.”

Pulling up to his house you had never seen it before but it was goregous…and of course it was he’s a Targaryen. He was holding your heels for you as you walked in and quickly led you to the room you’d be sleeping in. “There is a bathroom in this room if you wish to take a shower or bath.” His eyes were wandering a bit…You did look amazing in that dress… showing off just the right amount of skin… he shook himself from his thought. “If you need a change of clothes I can get you one of my shirts and some sweats.” You nodded softly and took down your hair. He left for a moment and came back in with your clothes for the night. “Daemon…can you help me unzip my dress?” He nodded and you could feel the warmth of his hands on your back. Slowly sliding down your spin as he unzipped the dress stopping just above your ass. He cleared his throat and left soon after. You took a quick shower washing away everything away. You cried in the shower and even in the bed not getting a wink of sleep. By the time you finally passed out Daemon was waking you up with breakfast. “Come on sunshine I’ve got pancakes waiting in the kitchen for you.” You were groggy and irritated; your head was stilling pounding as if someone was tap dancing on your head. Daemon smiled seeing you in your natural element passing you your plate. You weren’t in the mood to eat but he stared you down and didn’t touch his food until you took a few bites.

“Could you possibly find your own place in a few days? I’ll be happy to help you get your things today and you can keep them here until you do.” You sighed and took a sip of your coffee he had ready for you., “No…I just finished college…and needed to start looking for a job…Aemond handled everything.” He hummed drinking his coffee and finishing his plate. “Alright, well I needed a new assistant anyway so you will be working for me. You will atleast need a month to get on your feet and be on your way yes?” You were still very confused. “I mean thanks for the job but why are you helping me…remember you said you thought I was a cunt…” He chuckled remembering the day he met you. “Yes I did say that well honestly I thought if I had ran you off you would be saved from the cunt…my nephew that is.” You scoffed, “Don’t you think “he’s not a good guy” would’ve been more affective.”, he smiled, “Yeah you’re right…I just wanted to be a bit of a dick I guess. Well, the weekend is over so your first day is tomorrow. Let’s go ahead and get your stuff.”

It took about 30 minutes for the two of you to get to what was soon to be your old apartment. You were met at the entrance with all of your stuff on the sidewalk with a small note it saying trash…mostly everything you had of any value was ruined. Now this pissed Daemon off and he went up there to have a small chat with his darling nephew. You were still trying to pick through things and fighting back tears when Daemon pulled you back to the car. “Daemon…my stuff.” He groaned in a low tone, “I will get you new stuff don’t worry about it. I’m cooking dinner and we’re getting drunk tonight.” He knew this was what you needed after all this so he made a five star dinner for the two of you and paired it with some fancy red wine. “Listen y/n I know you and I aren’t the best of friends right now and I know you’re going through a lot so I’m trying to give you a helping hand. From what I understand you are a very self sufficient young woman. My brother was considering giving you a position with our company if you didn’t know so I’m making the call to put you on our team also because I know it’s going to pissed Aemond off to have to see flaunting in and out of my office every day. So do not disappoint me, understand?” You nodded and without another word you toasted to a wonderful working relationship together. The food was delicious you had no idea Daemon had so many hidden talents…interesting. After dinner Daemon offered to watch movies with you and obliged. The wine was flowing and he had made popcorn. You two were watching comedies to keep your spirits up and you ended up leaning on his shoulder which he moved away from but he ended up letting you nuzzle into him. He enjoyed this more than he’d like to admit but quickly his mind was taken from such a sentimental moment when your hand started to wander and it all seemed so innocent your hand was laying on his thigh then it eased up his chest. His breath hitched within his chest and he looked over at you only to see you looking right at him he chuckled nervously and moved your hand. “If I’m being honest y/n I’d enjoy fucking you into oblivion…but I uhhh…believe it or not I don’t like taking advantage of women especially you. Maybe we should go to bed we have a long day tomorrow with it being your first day and all.”, you sigh softly a bit hurt by the rejection but he wasn’t wrong you were very vulnerable right now and you appreciated his honesty nonetheless. The next day was the beginning of an interesting work life with Daemon. You were awakened by him he was acting as your own personal alarm. It was five in the fucking morning. “Why the fuck are we up so early the office doesn’t open until nine?”, He laughed placing her work clothes on the bed neatly. “Well, I usually go for a morning run before work so I figured you’d go with me to keep your mind off of that cunt of an ex boyfriend of yours. Especially since you will be seeing him a lot more these days.”, your groggy face twisted into a grimace. “I forgot he works in the family business fuck…me…great. I’m not going on a run today. I’ll be getting ready and I’ll make breakfast for you, deal?”, you held your hand out and he hadn’t experienced your cooking yet, but he figured what could it hurt so he shook on it.

You took a well needed shower did a simple make up look with lashes, lip liner, and lip gloss. You made bacon, eggs, and waffles for Daemon and decided to look at the outfit he had left out. A rather sexy secretary ensemble for you to wear a white button up with half sleeves, a tight pencil skirt, black panty hose, and black heels. You didn’t know what to do with your hair so you pinned it up. By the time you were ready Daemon had already arrived and was in the shower. While you waited at the door he approached you with his white tresses slicked back and a suite tailored just for him. You were taken aback at how well he cleaned up and he was speechless seeing how well everything fit on you. This was going to be harder than he thought., “You look nice.” He said rather plainly trying to hide what he was really thinking. You nodded in thanks and now you both were out the door getting into his car. The ride wasn’t very long but by the time you pulled up it was about eight-thirty. “Perfect timing. I can show you around and get you in the loop before we get busy.”, He spoke in an elated tone.

You had only been in this place once, you had forgotten just how humongous it was inside. It was as if you were seeing it all over again. Your new boss was showing you around giving you a quick tour of where to find the coffee maker, printers, bathrooms, and now his office. Your desk was right next to the entrance of his office and you placed down your things. “So y/n I know this is all new to you so I won’t be to harsh, but I will be stern and mistakes can be made but not too many will be tolerated, understand?” You nodded quickly and he sent you off to get coffee. The doors were open and everyone was rolling in. And of course the first person you see was a familiar one. Aemond but he had a black eye and a busted lip…was this the result of the conversation his uncle had with him. You were certain it was and while you waited to use the keurig Aemond finally noticed you. He was at a loss for words seeing you here and looking as good as you did. “Y/n what are you doing here?” You decided to ignore him as if he wasn’t even there. You made Daemon’s coffee and went back to your wing of the building and Aemond followed until he realized who you were working for. He was fuming when he stormed into his office. “Why the fuck is she here? I know you don’t care for me that much, but after what just happened you want her to work here.”, Daemon spoke it a rather conniving tone, “Your father, my brother planned on extending a job offer to her and you knew this already. So you think just because you fucked up by screwing her bestfriend that we were going to leave her assed out after all she’s had to deal with being with you? You are highly mistaken, Aemond. If this is all you came to speak to me about you can get back to work. I need my assistant in here to help me with a few things.” Aemond huffed in irritation and left to go speak to Viserys.

Daemon called you into his office and you quickly entered. “You alright?”, He asked and you sighed holding back tears. “Listen it will get easier don’t worry about that bastard. If anything seeing him squirm should be fun.”, You smiled. “You know I never thought of it that way.”

to be continued…

They make quite the conniving pair don’t they..?

#hotd fanfic #read it #10/10 reccomend #hotd series #daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon prince #hotd daemon #daemon targaryen

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sunnylands-world · 1 year

Note

the most hardcore smut you can make

i'm a sucker for your smut i'm sorry-

Mine

Pairing: draco malfoy x FEM reader

Summary: you wanted to be a brat so you'll just have to be put in your place for it…

Word count: 976

Warning: p in v, possessive draco, jealous draco, bratty reader, spitting, choking

Universe: Hogwarts

A/n: I hope you and everyone liked this. It's been a long time coming and I'm sorry about that. Hopefully this was worth the wait my loves…

You read the warnings if you continue to read. I'm not to be held responsible.

Comments, reblogs, and inboxes are appreciated and motivational

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Draco wasn't the type of guy to dance. He never really learned and he couldn't say he cared for it. you tugged at his sleeve pouting and begging him to dance just once but he wasn't one to change his mind so he told you no again. You huffed standing to your feet turning to him as you said

"Fine, if you won't dance I'll find another guy who will happily let me grind against him" and with that you walked away.

Who did you think you were?

Clearly you forgot who you belonged to but Draco didn't grab you then he let you play out your little act knowing you'd regret it later.

His eyebrows were knitted and the look in his eyes meant warning but you didn't care grinding your ass against the guy as he enjoyed himself looking like a kid in a candy store as he held your waist smiling far too happy to be touching something that wasn't his.

You smirked, adding extra sway to your hips as you looked at him and he stared back before nodding and walking off. He could tell you looked surprised as he headed towards his room.

When the party music got low he knew it was just a matter of time before you showed up and as if you heard his thoughts you knocked the door timidly.

He gave nothing away as he opened it and he saw the look of fear in your eyes which only fueled the need to punish you and as the door closed your back hit it making you gasp.

"Draco what are you-"

"Don't play dumb little girl, you know what you did" he says, cutting you off as his hands cup your face, puckering your lips into a pout as his thumb brushes over the bottom one.

"You're gonna swallow like a good girl" he says before spitting into your mouth and you know better than to test him swallowing and he gives your cheek a firm pat.

"Too bad you were so bad I was going to make this fun but I guess I will do that next time, hmm?"

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The sound of your moaning, coupled with Draco’s brutal thrust, fuel his own desire, making it nearly impossible to resist your pleas for more as he slams his cock into your needy pussy. You're tears streaming down your cheeks as you cry for him to slow down, that you can't take anymore.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel him reaching places that make you see stars, your pussy weeping, coating his length in your juices.

His face rests in the crook of your neck, whispering sweet nothings with his heavy breaths, ignoring your overstimulation. Your hands explore his back, nails caressing the muscles as they flex with the motion of his body, sending shivers through him to where he almost caves with the feeling of your touch.

With a mix of possession and lust, he comes from your neck eyes pouring into yours, giving you that sweet feeling deep in your belly once again. As his hardened length hits the spongy spot deep inside you. He can't help but groan in pleasure as you tighten around him, your walls throbbing weakly.

"Fuck," he growls, his voice laced with need. "I love feeling you wrapped around me, losing myself inside you while you look like you can’t take it." He moans

“But I know you can cause you were made to take this cock” he finishes, his eyes filled with possession wrapping his hand around your throat slowing your air supply and you wonder if you're well as you moan at the pressure.

He knows you can take it, you fucking love it and he may seem far gone but he pays attention to the look in your eyes and shake of your body telling him you like this.

"You're fucking mine" he mutters and you nod telling him your his.

With a sense of urgency, his pace quickens if that’s even possible, the heat of your core radiating against his throbbing length causes him to twitch inside your pussy as you whine.

“That’s right, tell me how good it feels pretty girl” he says, taking note of the high pitch sounds leaving you. you look so pretty with your face twisted in pleasure and it makes him more feral with his pace because he just needs to be buried inside that pretty pussy of yours.

His hair is ruined, a strand hanging over his forehead glistening with sweat.

He brings his hand down between you, fingers finding your clit easily in between your messy folds as he rubs tight, frantic, circles, smirking when you scream louder arching your back.

A guttural moan escapes his lips as he feels your walls clench around him, welcoming him into your depths. He can't help but revel in the sensations that consume him. The feeling of your body against his, the sound of yours and his mingling breaths, it all adds to the intensity of your connection.

With each thrust, he seeks to bring you more pleasure, to make you moan and writhe beneath him.

Draco grips the sheet beside your head, ensuring that every stroke is one of bliss and ecstasy for you.

In this moment, there are only you two, lost in a world of raw passion, desire, and possession. As your bodies move together, Draco can't help but feel grateful for the privilege of sharing this intimate connection with you, knowing that he gets to fuck you like this, gets to see you fall over the edge, and fill you to the brim, marking your throbbing walls with his cum.

You're his and you're gonna feel it as he makes you scream his name like the good girl you are.

His good girl…

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━©Sunnylands-world this belongs to me therefore you don't have the right to do anything with my work or ideas without permission.

Draco lovers and requests

@alexxavicry,@kyracanwrite, @animeloverfreak310, @phildunphyisadilf, @lovelycassy

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco malfoy fluff #draco x reader #draco imagine #malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco smut #draco fluff #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor!reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n

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writing-fanics · 1 year

Text

| happiest I’ve ever been | Sebastian michaelis x f!reader

| summary: love between butler and his mistress and where they are now |

warning: implied smut : child birth :

She giggled quietly, as her lover planted kisses on her neck. Gently, leaving behind love bites in the process. “My…darling..you..tasted..absolutely..exquisite,” Sebastian said between each kiss he planted on her neck. She smiled placing her hand on his bare chest.

He stared down at with a dastardly grin on his lips. His eyes almost seemed to pierce into her soul. “Admiring the view?” She asked, and he smiled leaning down to kiss her on the lips again.

She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, “My darling, sad to say but I must be returning to my duties,” He said, and she looked at him and pursed her lips.

She frowned, he leaned down planting a kiss on her forehead before kissing her on the lips again. “But, I would love to continue this later,” He said, and she smirked at him seductively before kissing him.

“Very well,” she said, she watched as he swiftly got out of bed and got dressed she smiled watching him get dressed. She’d never been this happy in her life since not before that fateful day. Then, Sebastian came along and as time went by she slowly developed feelings for the mysterious butler.

She didn’t know that it was fake, when she say Sebastian’s “dead” body on the ground. She couldn’t stop crying and seeing his dead body to help solve the mystery didn’t help at all. She took it upon herself to take care of the cats, inside the wardrobe.

She was an absolute wreck at the “funeral” but tried to stay strong for Ciel. But when the bell was rung she dropped whatever she was holding and immediately lunged at him as he emerged from the coffin. Sobbing and crying along with the other servants.

She was the one to take care of him once he along with Ciel and Snake, returned from the ship. Seeing that her aunt Angelina thought her how to suture up wounds she helped take care of Sebastian even though it wasn’t her job to do so.

She confessed her feelings to him, as she was bringing him back to health. She wasn’t bothered at all by the difference in their status, she cared for him and loved him and wanted to be by his side.

Sebastian at first found it highly inappropriate especially, with the fact her little brother is his master. As well on his mind the terms of the Faustian Contract, inevitably he’d consume her brothers soul and would presumably return to the demon realm.

He rejected her feelings saying that a butler and a master. Pursing a relationship would be highly inappropriate.

He watched as her smile faltered and she looked down, “V-Very, well I understand it would be inappropriate but that’s the thing I don’t really care.” She frowned, and then left his room so that he could rest.it was awhile before he eventually realized he too had feelings for her and they secretly pursued a relationship.

Our!Ciel quickly found out but was happy to see his older sister so happy for once.

( present )

“Why now?!” She screamed, in pain sweat running down her forehead as she pushed. Of all times for her to being going into labor why now?

When, the Real!Ciel revealed himself along with the Undertaker. And took his place as the rightful earl of Phantomhive. And when, Our!Ciel,Sebastian, Mey-Rin, Bard, Finny, and Snake. Are fugitives on the run.

Cries echoed throughout the room. Sebastian smiled, looking down at his wailing child. “Love, we have a beautiful baby girl.” He said, cradling the infant.

[Y/n] cried tears of joy seeing her newborn baby, her lovers arms. He placed the infant on her chest and she cooed over the baby.

“Lilith Angelina-Rachel Phantomhive,” She whispered, looking at her child. She had jet-black hair and (e/c) eyes and her fathers nose and ears she looked absolutely precious.

Sebastian and [Y/n], looked up hearing the commotion coming from outside the door. “Knock it off!” She heard, Our!Ciel shout at the servant wanting them to be quiet to let the two lovers quietly enjoy the birth of their newborn.

“I think they’ve waited long enough,” She said, gently rubbing her babies back. “Are you sure?” He asked, and she nodded looking at him.

She watched, as he walked towards the door opening. Everyone rushing into the room excitedly seeing the baby on [Y/n]’s chest. “Aw, look at her she’s so cute!” Finny cooed, looking at the baby.

“She looks just like Sebastian yes she does!” Mey-Rin cooed, and the baby slowly opened her eyes and admired the world around her.

“Would you like to hold her?” She asked, looking over at her little brother. He looked at her confused, “Why, would I want to hold your child?” He asked, and she smiled at him.

Eventually, he gave in and gently took the baby into his arms. She cooed and squirmed and he couldn’t help but stare down at his niece in awe. “What’s her name?” He asked, and she looked up at Sebastian and smiled.

“Lilith Angelina-Rachel Phantomhive,” She said, and he stared at her in absolute disbelief and then looked back down at his niece. She could’ve sworn she saw a single tear roll down the side of his cheek.

#sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x y/n #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian michaelis x you #black Butler #black butler x reader #kuroshitsuji #x reader #headcanons #fluff #romance #fanfic

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prolife-is-prolie · 1 year

Text

I celebrated Roe V Wade being overturned. I am now being investigated for having a miscarriage.

"The happiest moment in my life was when I said "I do" to my husband seven years ago. My second happiest moment was at the Supreme Court building on June 24, 2022. Seeing an endless sea of happy, cheerful faces, the champagne bottles being popped open, watching as bubbles floated on by, the feeling was electric! Babies were going to be saved!

And then a year later, on June 24, 2023, the third happiest moment in my life occurred. The two faint lines revealed themselves on the pregnancy test. I was pregnant! Finally! After years of hoping, praying, and multiple IVF treatments, I was finally pregnant! Life was perfect. My husband took me out to dinner and he never left my side the whole night. He came home from work one day with a giant book of baby names. It didn't take us long to decide: Ophelia if it was a girl, and Benson if it was a boy.

I thanked the Lord for gifting me with a happy marriage and a baby that I prayed so much for. But the Lord had other plans. August 23, 2023, my world came crashing down. I woke from a deep sleep and was overcome with painful cramps. I looked under the blanket and was horrified by what I saw: A huge puddle of red. I ran to the bathroom and sat on the toilet and I cried. I was having a miscarriage.

My husband woke up and noticed the puddle of blood. I've never seen him look so scared in my life. He hugged me while I sat and bled on the toilet. We then stripped down and got in the shower, where he held me, not caring about the blood running down my legs. I scheduled an emergency doctor's appointment for later in the day. The doctor confirmed our worst fear, I had a complete miscarriage. There wasn't anything more that could be done.

I sat on the table in that cold room while I waited for the doctor to come back with my paperwork. I was completely numb. I had no more tears left to cry. My husband stood by me and held my hand while we waited. And then we heard the knock on the door. We were expecting the doctor to enter. Instead, we were met with a couple of police officers.

My husband and I were escorted to the police station. It was there that we were informed that my miscarriage was deemed suspicious. The officers told us that due to the fact that we lived in a pro-life state, this was the new protocol. My husband and I were each taken to separate interview rooms, where we were questioned for six hours. I was asked a variety of questions:

What did I do the night before miscarrying?

Did I have a fall that could have caused the miscarriage?

Did I intentionally cause trauma to my abdomen to induce a miscarriage?

Did I take abortion pills?

Could my husband have slipped abortion pills into my drink?

At first, I tried to be understanding, but that quickly turned to anger. They were accusing my husband and me of purposefully killing our baby. I told the interviewer over and over that we wanted our baby and that we would do nothing to cause harm to our baby. After six hours, the questions let up. The interviewer left the room and I instantly broke down in tears again.

I cried for the baby I lost. I cried because my husband and I were being accused of killing our baby. I cried because I felt like nobody was listening to me. And I cried because this is what pro-choicers said would happen when Roe was overturned. Everything that they said would happen was happening.

Miscarriages were being investigated as murders. Children were being forced to give birth to their rapists' babies. Babies were being born and discarded in trash cans and dumpsters. And we have not done a damn thing about any of this. My husband and I were released, but not before being told that we weren't allowed to leave town due to the fact that we were being investigated.

I read articles about the women in Texas suing the state because of the anti-abortion laws. I read about the 13-year-old girl who gave birth to a baby she did not want. I read about the 11-year-old who had to flee her home state to get an abortion, only for the doctor who performed the abortion to get fined. I felt sick to my stomach reading these stories. And once again, my sorrow was replaced with anger.

I thought back to what I thought was one of the happiest moments of my life, Roe V Wade being overturned. In my mind, the happy smiles that I saw were suddenly replaced with evil snarls. The champagne that was popped was replaced with acid. The bubbles became heavy glass and they fell to the ground. My god, what have we done?

I forwarded the articles to my husband and I saw all color leave his face. The night after our interrogations, we ate dinner in silence. After knowing this man for 17 years and being married to him for seven of those years, he didn't need to talk for me to know what he was thinking. And I agreed with him:

Overturning Roe V Wade was a huge mistake."

-Constance, 37.

#pro life #pro chocie #roe v wade #roe vs. wade #abortion #anti abortion #my body my choice #fyp #fypシ

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sissylittlefeather · 1 month

Text

Puppet on a String: A Rusty Wells Story

A/N: Girl Happy is one of my favorite Elvis movies and Rusty is one of my favorite characters. I had to write him a fic! I've been kicking around this idea for a long time. Hopefully you all like it!

Special shout outs to @ccab and @atleastpleasetelephone for listening to me bitch and moan and helping me when I got stuck over and over and over again with this one!

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, cussing, kissing, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, also teasing, light edging, and a fistfight, so mentions of a bloody nose

Word count: ~5.5k

Here's some Rusty to get you in the mood:

When Rusty promised your father to go to Fort Lauderdale to supervise you, he had no idea what he was in for. He'd seen a picture of you and you looked rather nerdy, so he wasn't worried about it taking up too much of his time. Then, when he saw you in Florida, looking just as dorky as your photograph, he breathed a sigh of relief and gave himself permission to play shows, pursue other girls, and leave you to your books.

The girls had brought you along not as a friend, but as their tutor for the week since exams were not long after the Easter holiday. You were excited for the opportunity to go to the beach and didn't realize what it would mean to be there with them. They were perfectly content to leave you alone in the room every night as they went out and had fun with all the boys that chased them around during the day while you went unnoticed.

On the third night of the 10-day holiday, Rusty gets an angry call from your father.

"She said she hasn't had any fun at all! That she just sits in her room all the time!"

"Sir, I-I thought you wanted her to be safe?" Rusty answers nervously.

"I do! But I also want her happy! She was in tears! When I call her tomorrow, she better be in a much better mood or I guarantee you won't be."

"Y-yes sir. She will be."

******

The next day, Rusty sets out to find you and try to make sure you have at least a little fun. This is too important to trust one of his friends to get it done. However, he can't remember which room you're staying in. Eventually, he asks one of the girls he knows you came with and she looks at him like he's grown horns.

"You want y/n? You?!"

"Yeah... I just... what room is she in?"

"She's in room 220. Either reading or crying. That's all she ever does." The girls look at each other and snicker. Rusty takes note of how they talk about you. It seems a little rude, since you're there to help them.

"Thanks." He walks away toward your room. Before he knocks on the door, he presses his ear to it and hears what sounds like sniffling. He peeks through the window and sees you sitting on one of the beds, tears running down your cheeks. Some part of him softens and he's overwhelmed with a need to hold you in his arms. He shakes his head and tries to focus on the task at hand, knocking softly on the door. It takes another few minutes and two more knocks from him for you to finally open the door. You've wiped your face, but he can still tell your nose is a little red.

"Hi. I'm Rusty Wells. Me and my combo play down at the Sandbar Club every night. I wondered if you might like to come with me to the beach?" He says it quickly, smiling and trying to lay on the charm.

"Me? Why? Are you making fun of me?" You look up at him curiously. "Did the girls put you up to this?"

"No! I-I just... come to the beach with me. Or we can go sailing? Or rent a motorcycle? Whatever you want, honey."

"Why?" You narrow your eyes suspiciously.

"Can't a guy ask a pretty girl to go to the beach without getting a million questions?"

"Ha! A pretty girl? Now I know you're up to something. No thanks. I don't want to end up as the butt of anyone's jokes." You go to close the door and he stops it with his hand.

"Look, listen. I need to take you out. So will ya just...? Okay?"

"You need to?"

"Yes. I'm here because I work for your dad and he sent me to make sure you're safe and happy-"

"My father did what!?"

"He just cares about you and wants you to have a good time, okay? I told him I'd make sure you do. So will ya please just come with me to the beach or somethin'?" You look him up and down skeptically. When you think about it, it's kind of sweet that your dad cares enough to make sure you're safe and happy. And this Rusty character doesn't seem too bad. He's really cute and a part of you wishes he actually just wanted to hang out with you. Maybe you can spend an afternoon with him and satisfy your dad. You can declare the trip a failure and go home tomorrow. Then at least Rusty can say he tried and not get in trouble with your father.

"Okay, then. But not the beach. Let's go sailing. I've always wanted to go sailing." Rusty smiles, relieved that you finally agreed.

"You got it, honey. Let's go." You go back into your room, smooth your hair, and put some fresh powder on your nose. Then, you grab your purse and head out the door to go sailing with Rusty.

******

Much to his surprise, Rusty genuinely enjoys your company. You're funny in a way he's never experienced with a girl and he finds himself laughing more often than he expected. He's also surprised by how attractive you are with your little glasses and clothes that look like they could've belonged to your mother. Your smile is sweet and your eyes sparkle when you get excited. It's unexpected, but he actually really likes you. He only intended to spend a few hours with you, but before he knows it the sun is setting and it's time for him to get ready for that night's show. Then he says something that shocks even him.

"Come to our show tonight."

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly. I'm sure you want to take a real date." He realizes that you don't think of yourself as a real date and he kicks himself for telling you about working for your father.

"No, really. I do this song called 'Wolf Call', I'll come get you out of the crowd-"

"Rusty, it's okay. You don't have to do that. I had a great day with you. I promise I'll tell my dad I had fun. You're off the hook for today." His smile falls a little and he nods. You'll never take him seriously now.

"Well, alright then. What will you do tonight?"

"Oh, probably just read. It's fine. Thank you for a wonderful day."

"Yeah, you're welcome." You take your purse from him and go into your room, shutting the door before he can say anything else. He stands outside your room and is startled when he realizes he's wishing he could've kissed you goodnight.

******

The next day, he knocks on your door and offers to take you out like he did yesterday. You know he's going to have to report back to your father, so you agree to go with him once more. He tells himself he's only doing it as part of his job, but in reality he just wanted to see you. At the end of it, he tries again to get you to come to his show, but you decline and settle in to read for the night.

This pattern continues for the next few days. Rusty knocks on your door in the morning and you spend the day together. In the evening, he tries to convince you to come to the show and you decline.

It's not that you don't want a date for the evening. You'd love to go out with a boy who is actually interested in you, but you never get attention from anyone other than Rusty and you know that's just because he doesn't want to upset your father. Maybe he can be helpful, though. He is a guy, so he should know what you need to do to be noticed. You start to work up the courage to ask for his help.

By Thursday, Rusty decides he's going to insist on you joining him for the evening. He enjoys your company so much during the day that he actually finds himself missing you at night. He knocks on your door determined to get you to believe that he really likes you.

"Hey, honey, I need to talk to you."

"Good. I need to talk to you too." His heart skips at the possibility that you might want more from him. You grab his hand and pull him into your room and he can hardly breathe.

"I need-"

"Please come-"

You start talking at the same time and both stop. He gestures for you to keep going, so you do.

"I need you to help me. I want a date tonight, but there's no way I'll get one looking like this."

"Oh... I-I think you look just fine... in fact-"

"No, Rusty, you don't have to be nice. It's okay. I know you don't want to actually go out with me." His heart sinks.

"But, I-"

"Please help me. Help me know what guys like so I can find a date." He swallows his disappointment and nods.

"Alright, then. What are you thinkin'?" You take your glasses off and toss them on the desk and he sighs. He thinks they're cute.

"There. Now what?" He swallows the desire to say that nothing about you needs to change.

"You need clothes that'll show off your figure. Something tight or short or both." You go to your roommate's suitcase and throw it open.

"She said I could borrow anything. What do we like?" He reluctantly walks to the suitcase and pulls out some garments.

"Try this." He hands you some short shorts and a cropped tank top and swallows deeply, trying to imagine what you might look like. He's never seen you in anything that shows your body, even on the beach you wear an oversized coverup, so he's not even sure what to expect. You smile and head into the bathroom with the clothes. He sits on the side of the bed and fidgets with his fingers in anticipation. When you finally open the bathroom door and step out, he has to actively remind himself to close his mouth.

"Well? What do you think?" You spin in a slow circle and his heart skips. You have a beautiful body and all of a sudden he can't stop imagining you with no clothes at all, pressed against him and whimpering. He clears his throat and adjusts himself quickly while you're facing away. "That bad, huh?"

You turn back to face him and assume it must be terrible since he hasn't said anything. Your eyebrows are raised and a lump begins to form in your throat. You're not sure why you want him to like the way you look so badly. Spending so much time with him has you confused and wishing it wasn't all because of your father.

"You look..." He can't even finish the sentence. Instead, he wants to just wrap you in his arms and show you what he thinks, but that's not what you want.

"Ridiculous, huh?"

"No! Not ridiculous at all. I-"

"If you didn't know me, would you think I looked good?"

"Yeah. I think you look amazing. That's... wow..." You roll your eyes. He really is so very sweet.

"You don't have to lay it on that thick. It's okay."

"No, I'm serious." He stands up and walks over to you, looking down at you. All of a sudden there's an energy in the air and it feels like he might kiss you. Just as you close your eyes to let him, the door of your room swings open.

"Oh, wow! Y/n, you look incredible!" Rusty jumps back and your roommate walks to you. She's tired of the way the other girls have treated you this whole time. After sharing a room with you she's realized you're more than the bookish nerd everyone sees when they look at you. "I'm going to do your hair and makeup. Then you're coming out to the beach with us today. It's time you had a little fun too."

You look over at Rusty, who is trying desperately to hide his disappointment that you won't be spending the day with him.

"Rusty? Do you mind if I go with the girls and try to pick up a real date?" That hits him like a slap in the face and he shakes his head silently.

"No, that's fine, go with the girls. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Maybe! If I find a date then you don't have to worry about me anymore." His heart sinks even further. Then you run to him and kiss his cheek and he feels like he can't breathe. "Thank you, Rusty. You're really very sweet."

He nods and then turns and walks from the room. Rather than heading to the beach, he lays on his bed looking at the ceiling and wishing he hadn't told you about your father.

******

He doesn't see you all day and there's a growing feeling of emptiness in the pit of his stomach that he can't explain. Even flirting with the other pretty girls feels flat. At the show, he tries to play enthusiastically, but he just wants you to be there.

You eventually do appear and his eyes light up. But his hopes are quickly dashed by the group of boys that surrounds you, all fighting for your attention. With your hair and makeup done and a cute little dress on for the evening, you're positively stunning and the guys are excited that there's a new girl to pursue. They fall all over themselves trying to impress you. At first, you weren't sure what to do, but you've adjusted to the attention pretty well by the time you make it to the show. You look around demurely at each guy and respond flirtatiously, giggling and sipping your drink.

Rusty watches this scene and a burning feeling of envy rises inside him. He noticed you first. And all these other guys just want you because of the way you look now. There's more to you than that and he seems to be the only one that cares. He swallows the lump in his throat and tries to keep singing, but the bubble of rage inside him just keeps growing.

You sit at the table with the guys surrounding you, desperately trying to figure out which one you like best. None of them really stand out, though. In fact, the only one you really want to talk to is Rusty. You look up at him on stage and he looks so good in his red shirt and black pants. If only he would actually like you. There was that moment in your room where you thought he might kiss you. Still, he probably was just caught off guard by the way you look in these clothes. For some reason you want him to like you for who you really are and not just how you look. You're brought back to reality by one of the guys putting his hand on your knee.

"Didja hear what I said, baby? My father owns a company in Detroit."

"Mmm." You nod genially and try to refocus on the men that are all trying to talk to you at once. It makes you uncomfortable that this one in particular is touching you, but you figure that's just part of the game. You turn to another guy and smile, trying to listen to whatever he's saying. But when you do, the one slides his hand further up your thigh and squeezes gently. You jump a little and turn back to him with your eyes wide.

Your discomfort does not go unnoticed. Rusty is keenly aware of the way this guy is touching you. He watches you closely to gauge your reaction. If it seems like you like it, he'll have to find a way to let it go, but if you don't...

"Please move your hand." Your voice shakes as you say it, but you try to be firm.

"Aww, baby, come on. You mean like this?" He slides his hand even further up your thigh, so that his fingertips are under the hem of your skirt. You gasp and try to wiggle away, but he presses his hand up even further.

Before you can say anything else though, Rusty is there. He drags the handsy guy up by his collar and punches him hard in the face.

"Rusty!!" The other guys jump into the fight and in a flash it's four against one as Rusty tries to fight them all. He holds his own fairly well, but after a few seconds, he's overpowered and knocked to the ground with a bloody nose. You rush to his side and the other guys all exclaim and try to get your attention. Ignoring them all, you pull Rusty up off the ground and manage to get him to his feet.

"I'm sorry, honey, I didn't mean to ruin your date.” He pauses and looks around. “Dates?"

"Nonsense. Let's just get you cleaned up." He smiles down at you gently as he leans on you. He can walk just fine, but he's taking advantage of the opportunity to have his arm around you. Something about it just feels right.

When the two of you get back to your room, you open the door and get him inside to sit on the couch. His knuckles are banged up and his nose is bleeding pretty good all over the front of his shirt. You quickly grab a towel and stuff it under his nose and then find a first aid kit to clean out the cuts on his hand. It takes a minute, but you eventually get him squared away and then collapse onto the couch next to him. He pulls the towel away from his nose and looks over at you.

"I think the bleeding has stopped."

"Good! What on earth were you thinking?!" He looks at you sheepishly.

"I was thinking you didn't like being touched like that and I wasn't going to just stand there and let it happen." You melt and look up at him.

"Thank you." He smiles softly and then looks down at his hands in his lap.

"I'm sorry I messed up your night, though. I know you were trying to-"

"It's okay, Rusty. I'd rather be here with you anyway." He looks up at you quickly.

"Y-you would?"

"Yeah. Because I can do this." You walk over to the desk and grab your glasses, putting them on your face. "That's so much better. I can see. I couldn't even tell if those guys were cute!"

He chuckles as you sit back down on the couch next to him. You sigh and look down at the floor.

"Sorry; I know that kind of ruins the illusion." He tries to catch your eye and eventually does.

"No. Don't apologize. I like you better like this."

"Wait, really?" There's a moment of silence as his eyes flick between yours. Then, he whispers.

"This is how you looked when I fell for you." He looks up at you through his eyelashes and your heart flutters.

"Oh, Rusty." His eyes drop down as he prepares for the disappointment. You put a finger under his chin and make him look up at you again. "I'm falling for you too."

He blinks as his heart pounds and he tries to process what he's just heard.

"You're-?" But you interrupt his sentence by leaning in and pressing your lips to his. He winces a little with the pressure against his tender nose and you pull back abruptly.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking..." He shakes his head quickly.

"No, it's okay. Do it again. Please." You smile and lean in again, kissing him as softly as you can. You hover above his lips and whisper.

"We should get you out of that bloody shirt." He nods and lets you unbutton it and push it off of his shoulders, dropping it on the floor next to the couch. Your fingers go directly to the patch of hair on his chest and he shivers a little. He covers your hand with his and then pulls your fingers to his lips and kisses them gently. Without another thought, you crawl into his lap to straddle his hips, your skirt riding up so that you can press yourself against him. When you feel how hard he is, a soft moan escapes your lips.

"Is this just because of the way I look now?" He puts his hand on the side of your face and looks into your eyes sincerely.

"Honey, I've wanted you for days. You're just so stubborn; I couldn't get you to believe me that I meant it." You breathe out a laugh.

"I am kind of a pain in the ass, aren't I?"

"The most beautiful pain in the ass I've ever seen." He runs his thumb over your cheek affectionately.

"Rusty, I..." You roll your hips forward against him and whimper. "I want to do this... I do... I just don't know how..."

"Is this your first time?" He raises his eyebrows.

"No, not that. It's just never been very pleasant and... I want to enjoy it... with you..." He relaxes and softens.

"Oh, honey. I promise I'll make it nice. If that's what you want." You nod almost frantically.

"I do. Please." He smiles and kisses you gently. His hands run up under your skirt and he looks to you for permission to take your dress off. You nod and he slides it up and over your head. He goes back to kissing your chest, pressing his lips to the soft skin of your breasts as he removes your bra and lets that hit the floor too. You run your hands in the back of his hair and he moans quietly. After a few more seconds, he stands up from the couch, keeping you wrapped around him, kissing you over and over until he makes it to the bedroom. You whimper softly as he lays you on the bed, moving his lips down your neck to your collarbone.

"Honey, I wanna taste you. Would you like that?"

"I-I-I don't know. I think so?" A small feeling of fear rises in your chest as you grapple with not knowing what to expect. He picks up on your nervousness and gently moves your hair out of your face, stroking your cheek softly.

"Okay, baby, you just relax, okay? I'm not gonna hurt ya." You nod, breathing deeply, and he continues kissing down your body, grazing his lips over your stomach to your thighs. Your back arches involuntarily as you feel his lips on your legs and he pushes them apart to settle in between them. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, baby."

"Yes, Rusty..." You whimper as he slides your panties down your legs. Some part of you feels like you should be embarrassed to be this exposed, but for the first time you aren't. Something about Rusty makes you feel at ease.

"You're so pretty, honey. I'm gonna put my mouth on ya now. You just let me know if you want me to stop."

With that, he presses his tongue to your center and you moan loudly. Nothing has ever felt this good before. He moves his tongue over and around your sensitive bud and electricity gathers in your hips. Another moan escapes you as he licks and sucks your clit feverishly. More electricity builds and he moves on you with more speed and intention.

"Oh God... Rusty..." You're not sure what is about to happen, but it's like you're on the edge of something as he slides one of his long fingers up into you and tickles a specific place inside you. He feels your pussy tighten and moans softly.

"Let go, baby... you're so close."

"Close to wh- OH!" You whine loudly as your orgasm crashes into you, washing over you in tantalizing waves of intense pleasure. He licks and finger-fucks you through it and you pulse and writhe and grab at the sheets. Finally, you start to come down and he backs off of you, lips glistening.

"What was that!?" You ask enthusiastically. He smiles and chuckles a little.

"Baby, I thought you said this wasn't your first time?"

"Yeah, but that's never happened before. No one's ever... I mean... not with their mouth..." He kisses the inside of your thigh affectionately and then moves back up to lay next to you, rolling over and holding your face in his hand.

"Honey, I don't know what kind of... boys... you've been with before, but a real man should always make you feel this good. I will always make sure you feel this good."

You look up at him and resist the urge to blurt out that you love him. Instead, you pull him into a kiss and he moves his hand down to your hip, pressing his body against yours. He rolls his hips forward so that his erection grinds against your thigh and you gasp.

"Rusty..."

"I'm sorry, honey. I-I-I-"

"It's okay. I wanna make you feel good too." You run your hand down his chest and stomach, following the trail of hair under the front of his pants and take his cock in your hand. The mild shock that he's not wearing underwear fades quickly when you notice that he whimpers and bites his bottom lip as you touch him.

"You really don't hafta-"

"Shhh... let me take care of you." He whimpers again and his hips buck into your hand as you stroke him, moving his foreskin back and forth. "Take your pants off."

He quickly and obediently removes his slacks, trembling slightly in anticipation. You press hot kisses to his chest, moving down his stomach to just below his bellybutton. He looks down at you, eyes dark with desire, and runs his hand in your hair as you take the base of his dick in your hand and lick directly across the head.

"Oh, fuck, baby..." You smile at his reaction and then pull him fully into your mouth. This part you know how to do and you can't wait to see him come undone with your efforts. You lick up the bottom of his shaft and then open your throat and press your nose into the soft patch of hair around his cock. He holds a handful of your hair and does everything in his power not to thrust into your mouth as you bounce up and down on him. The skill with which you suck him off surprises and impresses him and he moans and grips the sheets with his other hand. You keep working him with your mouth, your hands on his hips to keep him still.

"Oh, baby..." He shudders as you pull him deep in your throat again. "'M gonna cum soon."

You back off of him and sit up, stroking him teasingly slowly with your hand.

"Not until I say so, you're not." You smile down at him devilishly and he groans.

"Oh, you little minx. You gonna get feisty on me?" You giggle and lick your lips sensually as you move your hand a little faster.

"You want me to stop teasing you?"

"No. Fuck no." His hips buck again as he begs for enough friction to reach the orgasm that is so close he can feel it in the base of his dick.

"Okay, how about this then?" You move to straddle his hips and then rub the tip of his cock along your entrance, where it slides over your slit easily with the wetness gathered there. He whimpers and holds your hips with both hands. You sink on him just a bit, pushing the tip of him inside you.

"Oh God, honey, please." The sight of him whimpering and begging turns you on so much more than you ever dreamed it would. You've never taken control like this before, and certainly haven't ever had the confidence to tease anyone, but Rusty is so sweet and giving that he brings out a side of you that you didn't even know is there. He also seems to be enjoying it just as much as you are. His cock is rock hard and he sweats and pants with his eyes rolled back and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He's beautiful like this, all flushed and needy.

You slide more of him inside you and he gasps. Your pussy is deliciously tight around him, the little sounds that fall from your lips driving him even more crazy. He's overwhelmed with the thought that he'd like to feel you like this forever and a shiver runs through him as he bites his tongue to keep from whispering that he loves you.

Finally, you push him into you fully and moan with the sensation of being filled so completely. His dick is perfect to hit all the right places inside you. Lifting your hips, you drop back down onto him and he groans loudly.

"Baby, I'm so close."

"Mmm not yet. Can you make me cum again? Without your mouth?" You're not sure what's come over you, asking for it like this, but it's like the words are out of your control. Luckily, he doesn't seem to mind. In fact, it appears to be just the opposite. He smiles and licks his thumb, moving down to your center and rubbing circles on your clit.

"Like this?"

"Oh, God, yes..." You hiss as the feeling of his thumb on you combines with his cock pushed up inside you. "Fuck..."

He laughs a little at your cussing. He's drunk on you, drunk on your pussy, drunk on the way you make him feel, drunk on the need to be with you like this for the rest of his life. His orgasm is so close he feels like he might explode if he doesn't move soon. He pulls his hips back a little and thrusts up into you and you gasp.

"Not until... I cum..." He whimpers and moves his thumb with more urgency. Your pussy tightens around his dick and he almost screams with the need to climax.

"Y/n... please..."

"So... close..." He feels your walls begin to pulse around him and you throw your head back and cry out his name as the release finally washes over you, energy thrumming through your body from head to toe. "Now!"

You don't have to tell him twice. He grabs your hips and lifts you just enough to pound you from underneath. His rhythm is erratic and frantic and it only takes a few seconds for him to slam into you one last time, cussing and moaning as his cock throbs inside you, shooting you full of his warmth. Eventually, his whole body relaxes and you collapse on his chest, both of you spent and breathing heavily.

"Goddamn, baby."

"Yeah. Wow." He slides his softening dick out of you and settles you beside him with your head on his chest. "Rusty, that was..."

"More pleasant? I hope?"

"That was fucking incredible."

"Two orgasms and you turn totally wild on me."

"I'm sorry. It's true. I just never knew it could be like this."

"Well, you're not wrong, honey. And I'm not complainin’. It was incredible for me too." You look up at him from his chest and he leans down and presses his lips against yours. After a few more minutes of laying there together, you go to get up and reach for the phone. He looks at you puzzled.

"Baby, what're you doing?"

"Gotta tell my dad about this." He laughs and wrestles the phone out of your hands as you giggle and he puts it back where it belongs.

"Although, I probably do need to talk to him." He says it quietly and you raise an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"I need his permission."

"Rusty..." He looks at you for a second and decides he can't hold back any longer.

"I love you, y/n. I'm in love with you. I think I finally found what I've been looking for on all these Easter vacations. I-I-I'd like to marry ya, if you'll have me?"

"Rusty, we just met." His face drops.

"Is that a no?"

"No! It's a not yet." He looks away and nods. You grab his chin and make him look at you again. "But it's also an I love you too."

"It is?"

"Of course it is." He smiles and pulls you into a deep kiss. When he backs away, he presses his forehead into yours.

"Baby, I'm yours. You just let me know when you're ready. Until then, you can have me any way you want me."

And that's exactly what you do.

******

The End

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@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis movie characters #rusty wells #girl happy #elvis x reader #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley x reader

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whammyy · 7 months

Text

➜ ‘ fuck you.

$ in which austin (your next door neighbor) is going through his hoe phase & disturbing your peace so you decide to do something about it.

austin x black!femreader the thumping of your next door neighbors room was so fucking annoying. you get it, he just got out of a relationship. he’s hurt. but did he have to go stick his dick in something every other night? it’s hard as fuck for you to concentrate with the sound of wailing sluts crying for austin to go deeper.

10:34 thump, thump, thump. all you fucking heard. does he not realize a bitch gotta work? you got out of bed & put your slippers & robe on. fixing the way your bonnet was sliding off your head. you walked out to the hallway & knocked hardly on the apartment door.

it took at least 5 minutes for him to answer the door & when he did he was shirtless with his v-line hanging out of his navy blue shorts. and also sweating like a damn pig.

“what can i do for you ‘princess?” He asked, eyes burning a hole in your body. “you can’t keep it down dude? your loud as fuck and to be honest ion wanna hear that shit.” He laughed at your response. such a cunt. “yea, ill keep it down baby.” he said, the response making your cheeks flush especially with his deep tone. he closed the door and you walked angrily back to your apartment.

he did in fact stick to his word & kept it down so you let it go. a week later he was at it again. you couldn’t take it anymore, so fucking annoying. if the apartment wasn’t such good rent and close to your campus you would’ve been moved out, but you didn’t.

did he never get tired? his dick in all these i know have to be loose ass girls. and why did he use this as his resort for stress? it couldn’t be working out, reading, anything else? it had to be sex for what.

weeks & weeks go by and he’s still going. you couldn’t get good sleep because the noises were so bothering. and your grades were starting to turn into c’s from the lack of sleep. your pretty face was starting to look tired out from the lack of sleep & oh hell no? on yo soul that wasn’t gone end well for him.

you stormed out the house & beat on his door. when he didn’t answer it you beat on it for a second time, a third time was gonna come but he swung the door open his figure hovering over you with a scowl. “what?”

batting your eyelashes at him you spoke with annoyance. “I’m sick of you and your noises! i asked you could you keep it down & you can’t and if you don’t i’m gone tell the office. ion wanna hear that shit i tell you.”

resting his beautiful body in the doorframe he didn’t see to be one bit bothered by your words. “your real pretty to be such a whiny bitch. if you wanted to get ruined all you had to do is say that.” your pussy clenched & was starting to drench your panties at the words. “who do you think you are fucking manwhore?” he smiled and got closer to you. “I can be anybody you want me to be baby, I don’t appreciate the name though we can work on that..” you were so disgusted but obsessed with him. “i fucking hate you.”

he kept his word & was quiet. you were happy. & looking pretty again with no eye bags and with maintained A’s. but you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to try him?

you found yourself at his door again knocking on it. he opened the door with a lollipop hanging out his mouth. “what ya’ need? I been quiet little miss complainer.” you rolled your eyes at his words. “i just wanted to tell you to stop- don’t call me that fucking manwhore.”

he gripped your face and stepped out his door. “you a fragile little girl. m’ gone suggest you watch your mouth baby.” you scoffed. “what ya’ gone do if i don’t?”

you were quick to be put in a face down ass up position on his bed. his thick dick stretching you out badly. “your so damn tight baby? if i knew i had this next door i wouldn’t have to worry about fucking other girls.” you clenched down on him tighter after hearing that. making him groan.

he started picking up his thrusts, fast. real fast. he was so goddamn deep in this position it hurted. “I can’t take it.” you whined. he laughed as he kept pounding into you from behind ignoring what you just said, so you put your hand back there. he quickly slapped it away and put both of your hands above your head.

“where’s all that mouth at now baby?” you couldn’t even say nothing right now back to him. you were feeling so good. “you still hate me baby?” the way you deep in my guts right now? “boy—fuckk. i love you.” he laughed. you started throwing yourself back faster as you felt yourself getting close.

“I think—oh my god, i think im finna cum!” he held your hips tight with one hand, other hand gripping the ass fat on your body. “cum baby.” and you did. shaking real hard as you came he kept going because he hasn’t came yet.

“pussy so tight, gotta keep this around baby. you on the pill mama?” you nodded eyes rolling to the back of your head as he still kept going. “good baby, cause m’ bout to feel this pretty cunt up.” he picked his thrusts up fast, holding onto your neck as he kept thrusting. thrusts getting sloppy & dick twitching, he came. inside of you. and he did feel you up.

he pulled out and watched as the seed was dripping out of you. “look so pretty baby, and by the way. i love these dermals in your back. look real good on you baby.” smh. “fuck you.”

#austin butler #austin butler smut #smut #black reader

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justagalwhowrites · 1 year

Text

Lavender - Ch. 18

A night out at the speakeasy leads to an unexpected connection. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-17 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (broken up), Tommy Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT :D unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up!) and Tommy being an absolute flirt. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only!

Length: 4.8 k

Saturday, May 15, 2010 - Six Months Later

“I need more than a drink,” Lucy put her head on the front desk of the clinic with a groan. “I need at least 2. Probably five.”

“I think they have that,” Andrew said, smiling a little. “Pretty much the whole draw.”

“That one guy was such a dick,” she propped her chin on her fist. “Why did I decide to become a nurse again? Why did I think this was a good idea?”

“Because you made career choices before the world ended and then stuck it out?” You said, sitting on top of the desk behind the counter.

“Yeah being a nurse wasn’t exactly a walk in the park then, either,” she grumbled. “This is my problem, I’m basically an addict, I get one REALLY GOOD patient and then I act like that fixes alllllll the assholes…”

“Sounds like dating men,” Marta joined your little group from the exam area. “Lee is finishing up with the final patient and then we’re free. We’re so close, guys. So close I can taste it.” Marta glanced over at you and groaned. “Aw, Doc, you got changed? You look all cute and shit? That’s not fair!”

“Hey,” you replied. “I have nowhere else to wear the cute dress. You have dates. I have speakeasy night with my coworkers, just give me this.”

“You could have dates too, if you wanted,” Jess was perched on the other side of the horseshoe shaped desk, Andrew squarely between you in his office chair. Her feet were in his lap. “All you’d have to do is just say yes to one of the guys who talks to you or actually ask someone out.”

“Yes but why should I when I have you lovely people, all our patients and Petri dishes in the lab to keep me company?” You smiled. Andrew and Jess shared a brief look. You tried to not roll your eyes. Mostly because they’d given you a lot of leeway in the past almost year since you and Joel had split up. Especially when you got back from your trip outside the QZ.

You hadn’t even bothered to go home that night. You walked straight to Andrew and Jess’ place, knocking on the door and trying to not cry until you were inside. Andrew was the one to answer and you fell into him, burying your face in his chest as it felt like you were cracking open with the pain of it.

“You were right,” you choked out as he pulled you inside. “About what he did out there, you were right…”

“Oh, honey,” he wrapped his arms around you the best he could with the backpack in the way, kissing the top of your head before tucking you below his chin. “I’m so sorry. I wish I was wrong. I really do.”

You slept there that night, Andrew sandwiched between you and Jess, other people and the safety that came with them the only thing that let you rest.

You’d managed to avoid Joel since you’d returned. It had been half a year since you last saw him that night at the QZ fence. There were signs of him, though. He was usually on your mind somehow, not that you were happy about it.

A few weeks after the trip, you passed Tess on your way to look for a few more books and CDs at the underground sellers’ shops. She didn’t notice you but you noticed her. It looked like she’d gotten into a fight, she had a black eye and gash at her throat. You frowned.

“Tess?” You changed direction to follow her. “Tess!”

She turned and looked surprised that you’d talk to her for a moment before meeting you in the middle.

“Doc,” she looked you up and down. She had a tendency to do that, you noticed. She liked to evaluate things. Like she thought you might have changed since she last saw you. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” you smiled. “Look, I’m happy I ran into you, I’ve been thinking…” You glanced around and tugged her off to the side of the road. “You and Tommy and… everyone, you’re still making runs, right?”

“Not taking you out there again,” she shook her head. “Joel was pretty firm on that…”

“No, that’s fine,” you waved her off. “I just… You know that saying ‘an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure?’”

“Sure,” she shrugged.

“Well there’s only so much I can do for you if you guys come back already hurt, down a lot of blood, all that jazz,” you said. “But if I gave you some basic trauma supplies, showed you how to use them…”

“You’d do that,” she said it more than asked it.

“Of course,” you frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?” She didn’t say anything else, so you just pressed on. “Could you plan to come by my apartment sometime this week, late? I can put together some kits, show you what to do for common injuries…”

“Wednesday?” She asked.

“After 10:30,” you said. “Should give me time to get home from the clinic.” You were surprised to learn that you actually kind of liked Tess. She showed up to your apartment not long after you did. Wednesday had been a rough one and your shirt was still bloody, deciding to prioritize getting the blood out of your hairline instead of changing your clothes.

“Doc,” she said by way of greeting, her eyes drifting to the blood on your shirt and back up to your face, strand of bloody hair still in your fingers.

“Sorry,” you said, giving an apologetic smile. “Had to do a field amputation today without anesthesia, it was a mess… I’m making tea, want a cup?”

“I’ll take tea,” she said, coming in and sitting at the table. You got your still bloody hair out of the way and quickly pulled the shirt off before grabbing a t-shirt out of the drawer and pulling it on.

“Sorry,” you smiled apologetically again. “I just really needed to get at least some of that blood off me…”

You put the tea on the table and grabbed the kit you put together, giving Tess a crash course in trauma stabilization 101.

“So were you a military doctor when this shit started?” She asked after you packed the supplies back up.

“Oh God no,” you laughed. “No, I was a biology teacher. I was finishing up a pre-med degree though, and I’d always wanted to be a doctor so I was just reading everything I could find to get a jump on med school. I got here, they were setting up medical facilities with all of one doctor so he trained me.”

“And how’d you meet Joel?” She was sitting back in he chair, watching you. His name made your stomach clench.

“You could ask him,” you said, looking at the almost empty tea cup.

She scoffed.

“You are an off limits topic,” she said. “For both Miller men, as it happens. Joel doesn’t answer, Tommy says it’s not his shit to say. Joel got back from the trip with you, said nothing for three days and then pretended that nothing happened.”

You nodded slowly.

“And you don’t like not knowing,” you said. She smiled.

“Exactly.”

You signed, fidgeting with the mug.

“I met Joel in 1999,” you said. Her eyes went wide. “It’s why they called me Kid, I was just 20 back then, still in college.”

“Jesus, you were a kid. He still a grumpy asshole then?” She laughed. You laughed back.

“Very rarely,” you said. “Punched Tommy in the face at a bar once because Joel was being an asshole and Tommy called him on it. Though I made him watch ‘When Harry Met Sally’ and he actually liked it. Tried so hard not to laugh at the fake orgasm scene he choked on his beer.”

She laughed at that. She told you about some of her life before, too. Spending summer on a lake with her husband and son, a mishap when renovating their basement that left a giant splotch of paint over the new linoleum that they’d never been able to properly clean up. You got both of you beer.

“I was never sure who the outbreak was worse for,” she said. “People like me who had a life going that got ripped away or people like you who never really had a fucking chance at one.”

“We all got screwed,” you said. “Sometimes I think we all died back then, everyone who’s left is just a ghost of what they would have been otherwise.”

“And you still wear ribbons on your braids,” she nodded to your hair. You glanced down, the blue ribbon splotched purple where the blood had splattered it. You smiled a little.

“There are very few things that make life worth it anymore,” you said after a moment. “And life is too short to not wear the damn ribbons.”

You knew they were using the trauma kit supplies. Tess would show up every six weeks or so, asking for a resupply. She’d even asked for a new euthanasia kit once. You almost had a panic attack before she had the chance to tell you that it wasn’t Joel or Tommy, just a traveler they’d run into who couldn’t bring themselves to turn their gun on themselves. But you hadn’t needed to come pull a bullet out of any of them again, so you were counting their trips as a success.

“Alright kids,” Lee came out from the exam area, lab coat still on. “We are all set, they’re getting dressed and then we are out of here!”

“I’m going for the jukebox as soon as we get there,” Marta said. “No one try to stop me!”

“Oh God,” Andrew groaned. “You’re going to make us listen to the Backstreet Boys all night aren’t you?”

“Think they’re still alive out there?” She asked. “Just performing for some QZ on the west coast?”

“Imagine if they’re infected,” Jess said. “You’re just walking down the street and then bam, attacked by a Backstreet Boy…”

“This,” Andrew looked up at her. “This is why I love you.”

Walking to the Speakeasy with everyone reminded you a little of college. It helped that you were wearing a sundress like you’d worn so much in Texas. It helped that the weather was warm and the sky was clear. Mostly, it helped that there were people laughing. You weren’t sure if your memory was just selective but it seemed like people just didn’t laugh anymore.

There were some tables in the corner of the speakeasy that were open and you pushed them together, sitting down with your back against one of the walls. It just felt better that way.

“Beer?” Andrew looked to Jess. She nodded and he turned to you. “Beer?”

“I’m thinking a 1996 left bank Bordeaux, something with some good body to it,” you said, thinking.

“Yeah, so beer?” He smiled.

“Yes please,” you smiled back.

“I only put on two songs,” Marta sat beside you. “So, Andrew, Mr. ‘If it’s not rock and roll it’s not music,’ will only have to suffer for so long.”

“And if only we could get him to suffer in silence,” Jess mused.

You laughed and Andrew brought beer and you sat drinking with your friends, forgetting for a minute that it was the end of the world.

“Doc?”

You turned to see a slightly familiar face. You frowned for a moment, trying to place him when it clicked.

“Oh my gosh, Tim?” You asked. He smiled, nodding. “Holy cow, you’re so… adult!”

He laughed. He was a student from your first year as a teacher in the QZ, finishing high school in 2007. You hadn’t seen him since.

“Yeah, I’m 21 now,” he smiled proudly. “Doesn’t really matter much now but still, cool to say.”

Bitter Sweet Symphony started playing and he held out his hand.

“Wanna dance?” He asked. “I think the statute of limitations of you as my teacher are up.”

“Fuck it,” you shook your head. “Why not?”

“Yeah!” Marta whooped. “Getting Doc on the dance floor!”

You flipped her off and she laughed as you followed behind him.

Tim, you were happy to know, was doing alright for himself. He had a girlfriend he was crazy about. He was stuck working for FEDRA, of course, but he was doing some engineering work.

“All because you made me interested in science,” he said, one hand at your waist, the other in yours. “So, thanks for that.”

“You’d have gotten there eventually without me,” you smiled. “But I’ll take some credit for your success.”

The song changed to something you didn’t recognize, something fun and upbeat. His face brightened.

“Mind if I spin you?” He asked. “Always wanted to try that.”

“I am in the dress for it,” you smiled a little. “Go for it, kid.”

He clumsily twirled you under his arm until his fingers slipped out of yours and sent you spinning across the dance floor. You were laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe and he took your hand again just as you saw Joel, watching you from across the bar.

Your laughter died and your breath caught in your throat. Seeing him was like seeing a ghost. It took you a moment to understand why but then you realized it. Since November, you’d thought of the Joel you knew as though he were dead. He’d died with Sarah, back in September, 2003. He’d never made it to Boston.

You’d mourned him in a way. You’d put the few clothes he’d left at your place into the floorboards with your stash - those weren’t his, after all - but left the picture of him, Sarah and you on your nightstand. That Joel wasn’t a killer. That Joel hadn’t blamed you for it. You’d taken to charging your old cell phone, reading back through texts with him and with Sarah that were still stored there every night before you fell asleep. There was a voicemail, too, one from a week before you visited the last time.

“Hey Baby,” he’d said. “Think I fucked up the time difference again, must still be out with Louisa… Anyway, missin’ ya. Call me when you’re home safe. Love you.”

That Joel was dead and the man he’d become was staring daggers at you.

“Doc?” Tim said.

“Mind if I cut in?” Andrew said.

“Good to see you, Tim,” you managed to turn and smile at him. “Glad to know you’re doing well.”

“Take care, Doc,” he smiled, leaving you with Andrew. He pulled you into his arms and put his mouth near your ear.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he said quietly, holding you tightly to him so you had no choice but to sway with him. “We’re going to stay out here for this song and we’re going to have a great time. And then we’re going to go back to the table and drink the beers that Jess is getting us right now.”

“I just…”

“Nope,” he cut you off. “We’re not doing that, we’re not going to run away because that fucker showed up. We’re going to stay here and we’re going to have fun in spite of his ass. Got it?”

You just nodded.

“Good.”

You weren’t paying attention to the music, the feeling of Joel’s eyes on you drowning out almost everything else, Andrew’s hands on you seeming like the only thing tethering you to the earth. You let him guide you back to the table, a fresh beer sitting in front of your seat.

“Hey Doc!” Jess said brightly. “So an amnesiac walks into a bar. He goes up to a beautiful blonde and says ‘so… do I come here often?’”

It took you a second and then you laughed, the spell of Joel’s eyes on you snapping. And life continued on. Until a Texas drawl appeared over your shoulder.

“Scuse me.” Andrew’s eyes narrowed as you looked behind you, Tommy standing there. “I was really hoping I could get you onto the dance floor.”

“Me,” you said, incredulous.

“Well I try to make a habit of getting the prettiest girl at the bar to give me the time of day,” he smiled. “So I’m just hopin’ you’ll cut me a break for old time’s sake.”

“Look,” Andrew said, but you cut him off.

“Why not,” you said. He smiled - that fucking Miller man smile - and offered you his hand. You took it and he pulled you to your feet and toward the dance floor. Linger was playing. He put his hands at your waist and your arms went around his neck, swaying in time.

“So Kid,” he smiled. “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” you said cautiously. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you.

“I feel like you’re doubtin’ my good intentions,” he said.

“If Joel sent you to talk to me, you can tell him to fuck off,” you said.

“That asshole?” He scoffed. “He about ripped my arm off when I said I was going to ask you to dance, he doesn’t want me doin’ this. You think that’s the only reason I’d come talk to you?”

“Maybe not the only reason,” you smiled a little.

“Wasn’t joking about gettin’ the prettiest girl at the bar to give me the time of day,” he smiled back. “Got news for you, any bar you’re in? That’s you. I just have to talk you into it now.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head a little, smiling anyway.

“You’re still such a player, aren’t you?” You teased.

“Nah, just a charmer,” he said.

“How’ve you been?” You asked.

“Well as can be expected,” he shrugged. “Roommate’s a dick but…”

You snorted and he smiled broader.

“I told him he was a fuckin’ asshole for what he did to you, you know,” he said after a moment, face turning serious. “He was also a fuckin’ dumbass but he’s always been a dumbass. It’s the asshole shit I can’t stand.”

“Let me know if the message ever sinks in,” you said wryly.

“That’ll be the day,” he scoffed.

The song shifted, something soft and slow. He tugged you closer and your cheek leaned into his chest. You danced quietly for a bit.

“I wanted to ask you out, back in the day,” he said eventually, his lips close to your ear.

“Really?” You glanced up at him, not wanting to move your head.

“Joel told me you were ‘off limits,’” he laughed a little. “Course I didn’t know that was because he wanted ya but…”

“Damn,” you joked. “Dibs really put you off, huh?”

“If I’d known it was just dibs it wouldn’t have,” he replied.

The song changed to Black Magic Woman and he stepped back from you a bit.

“Now, see, I might have had some ulterior motives,” he smiled sheepishly. “May have put this on the jukebox in hopes I could get you to dance to it with me…”

“I don’t know how to dance to this,” you laughed, moving to head back to your seat, hand still in his. He caught you and pulled you back against him.

“I do,” his hand went to the small of your back, pressing your hips against his. You swallowed. “Just gotta follow my lead, pretty girl.”

He took the lead, his hips pushing against yours, moving in sharp rhythm. You could feel him through his jeans. His legs nudged yours in the right steps, your breasts flush against him. His eyes traced your face, lingering on your lips.

The song felt too short, the two of you coming to a stop in the middle of the dance floor, bodies still close together.

“How ‘bout a drink?” He smiled.

“Sure,” you smiled back. He laced his fingers with yours and led you to the bar, just catching a glimpse of Joel standing up and storming off as you did.

Tommy joined the table with your coworkers, pulling up a chair close to yours, one hand on the small of your back. Marta asked how you knew each other and immediately latched on to the “we’ve been friends for 11 years” thing to get stories out of him like the time he tried to teach you to grill and you accidentally set the thing on fire and seriously considered pushing it into the pool to put it out.

“We’re gonna head out,” Andrew said before he leaned in to kiss your cheek goodbye, whispering in your ear as he did. “You OK?”

You just nodded and he left with Jess. You realized then that they were the last of the party to leave.

“One more drink,” Tommy smiled. “Just you and me.”

“Well if you’re going to twist my arm about it,” you smiled back.

The bar was emptying out, just a few stragglers left on the dance floor. Tommy got you both a whiskey on the rocks, sitting next to you in a booth, putting his arm around your shoulders. You propped your feet on the chair across the table from you and leaned your head on his chest, swirling the whiskey in your chipped glass. The ice clinked.

“Missed seein’ you,” he said after a minute, taking a drink. “You always just… Made shit better. It’s all brighter with you.”

“You’re sweet,” you smiled a little, taking a drink. “And I’ve missed seeing you, too.”

Closing Time came on and Tommy laughed.

“We can take a hint!” He yelled over your head before finishing his drink. “We’re goin, we’re goin.”

You laughed, polishing yours off, too, before getting up. You could just barely feel the alcohol in your head, far from drunk and just on the edge of tipsy.

“C’mon,” he said. “I’ll walk you home.”

“You know, I walk home on my own late at night most days,” you said, following him out of the bar, anyway. “Always ends up fine.”

“Humor me,” he smiled, holding out his hand. You smiled back, taking it. He tugged you close to him, setting an easy pace.

You talked about random things you missed about Austin, laughing when you mentioned your favorite second hand clothing shop downtown near campus.

“Isn’t that just shopping now?” He teased.

“Oh you know it’s not the same,” you laughed. “I got this great dress there once from the 70s. I think I only wore it once, to a wedding, but damn did it make my boobs look fantastic. One of life’s great regrets is the fact that it’s rotting away in my closet in New York.”

“Damn,” he shook his head. “Now one of my great regrets is not seeing that dress…”

You laughed, stopping at the door to your building.

“This is me,” you half smiled.

“How about I walk you up?” He asked. You raised your eyebrows. “I know I know, but how often do you walk home from the clinic with a few drinks in you?”

“I’ve treated you, do you want to know the answer to that question?” You teased. He laughed.

“Well those times, I wouldn’t have to feel guilty if somethin’ happened to ya,” he said. “Let me walk you up.”

“If that’s what will help you live the dream, Miller, far be it from me to stop you.”

You opened the communal door and led the way upstairs, stopping by your apartment.

“See?” You teased, after unlocking your door but leaving it closed and turning to face him. “So eventful.”

He leaned his arm against the door frame, caging you in on one side. His eyes dropped to your lips before going back to your eyes.

“Still think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he said quietly, his free hand delicately lifting your chin toward him.

“Tommy,” you breathed. His hand slipped from your chin to the back of your head, his thumb still along your cheek.

“Want me to stop?” He asked, moving closer.

You swallowed.

“No,” you said.

“Good,” he said. “Neither do I.”

He kissed you then. Soft, gentle, his lips parting just enough that you could taste the whiskey on his breath. He leaned his body into yours, the hips that had been moving with yours on the dance floor pressing into you a different way now. A familiar ache sparked low in your stomach as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck.

You weren’t sure how long he kissed you, but after a moment, he pulled back, a little breathless.

“Why don’t we go inside?” He said softly.

“Yeah,” you nodded, opening the door behind you.

Things moved a lot faster then. His hands slid the straps of your dress down your arms before your door was fully closed. He reached to lock it while you fumbled with the buckle of his belt. His lips were on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, his hands ranging over every inch of skin they could reach before sliding your dress down to pool on the floor. You pulled at the buttons of his shirt until you were able to shove it off and he quickly unclipped your bra. He looked down at your bare chest, panting for breath a little.

“Damn,” he said. “Don’t regret not seein’ the dress anymore. This is so much fuckin’ better.”

He stepped out of his boots quickly and you unbutton and unzipped his pants. You kicked off your sandals and he tugged your panties down, leaving them on the floor as you pulled him against you toward your bed. He paused, your legs against the bed, his hands holding you gently.

“You sure you’re good with this?” He asked.

“Just kiss me, Miller,” you said. He wasted no time obliging.

You pulled him onto your bed with you, his weight settling easily between your thighs. He slid a hand down your body to your pussy, softly tracing your clit for a moment before pressing his fingers against you, working you in slow, longing circles. You moaned against his mouth, rocking your hips against his hand. You felt him smile against your lips.

Tommy slipped a thick finger inside you, exploring you, the tip brushing your inner walls until he found the spot that made your toes curl. He added another finger, working both of them against the place inside you, adding his thumb to your clit until your back arched and you came with a loud moan around him.

“Fuck, gorgeous,” he pressed his lips to your collar bone. “Gonna need you to do that again while I’m inside you… you’ve got me fuckin’ desperate for it…”

“Then get inside me,” you panted, reaching between your bodies to take his cock in your hand. He was thick, hard, not so long that you were worried about whether or not he would fit but long enough that you knew he would fill you. You worked him up and down, spreading the wetness from his tip over him.

“Tryin’ to kill me, I swear,” he said, slipping his fingers from inside you to himself, brushing your hand away. He lined himself up with your entrance, pressed his lips to yours and thrust into you.

The stretch was immediate, a sharp but pleasant burn as he sank into you. He moaned against your lips and you rocked your hips against him, making his movements stutter.

“You trying to make me cum before I’m even inside you?” He gasped. “Fucking hell, girl.”

He thrust the rest of the way inside you in one quick, hard motion, making your back arch, pulling a delicious moan from your lips. His arm slipped below you, pulling your torso flush with his as he began to fuck into you, his thick cock sliding out to just the tip before thrusting back against your back wall with every stroke. You clung to him as his lips found your throat, your breasts, his hard length moving faster, more forcefully every time. The tip of him was hitting the spot inside you with every movement, your second orgasm building fast.

“Fuck, I’m going to…” you managed. He thrust harder, your sentence ending in a strangled cry.

“Won’t last when you do,” he gasped. “Where can I…”

“I’m on the pill,” you said quickly.

“Thank fuck.”

He picked up the pace, holding himself deep inside you every few strokes, your body tightening and coiling around him until you felt the taught band of pleasure snap, your core pulsing around him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck…” he groaned, thrusting two more times before collapsing on top of you, both of you limp and gasping for breath.

He pressed his lips to your throat, still deep inside you, and you saw the picture frame with Joel and Sarah on your nightstand out of the corner of your eye. While he was distracted, you reached up and silently set it face down before wrapping your arms around the man in your bed.

A/N: THAT'S RIGHT GUYS SHE'S GETTING WITH BOTH BROTHERS AND JOEL FUCKING HATES IT. This has been building since literally day one of this story lol. Tommy has had a crush on her FOREVER and now it's finally paying off - for him and for us (because we get the drama of it)

I have a taglist, so if you'd like to be included, just comment below! Thank you so so much for reading and following along. I hope you enjoy the drama and the angst! Love you all!

Taglist: @paleidiot @ayamenimthiriel @ginger-swag-rapunzel @drewharrisonwriter @flugazi @pedropascalsbbg @taoyuji @starstruckmusiciansartghost @splendsay @bigboiseason123 @jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic #tommy miller

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