#weasleywinchester

[weasleywinchester]

Save Yourself - Chapter 18

So We Won't Have To Keep Them All Inside

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Helllloooo! I am so sorry for the super long hiatus. I hadn't planned that, but life got very bleh and uninspiring and stressful. Despite the next few chapters being the main part of the story I've been wanting to write I had a bit of self doubt in my ability to keep going. But it's here and hopefully on a slightly more consistent bases. If you haven't read this series then I will simply say I'm writing such a big fic because it's very much my Dean Winchester story. It's the one that has lived in my head so long, that has been thought about and rethought about so much that it makes the whole thing daunting. But my brain is back on this fic train and I'm hoping to finish it off by the end of the year. As always shout out to my tag list, you've been so patient and I hope you're as excited to read the next chapters as I am to write them. Much love 💙💙💙

Series Summary: “I promise.” Those two words would trap you in a life you never wanted. You are an artist, a hunter, a Winchester. And yet the pain in Dean’s eyes as demanded you live the life he wants you live, you couldn’t say no. You met the Winchesters by chance, found out they were real people. And you figured it was a once in a life time thing, but then Dean called you, and so did a new job. Both leading to the life you wanted, a family that didn’t begin or end in blood and a once in a life time love. And he said leave it and him behind, forget. But you can’t. Chapter Summary: The family trip to Dodge city was meant to be fun for the whole family… And it was, until it wasn’t. With Dean finally coming around on the idea of Jack not being outright evil, a bystander getting killed threw a monkey wrench into everything. And then there’s Claire; determined to be a hunter, to do it all alone until she realizes that having someone by her side is helpful. Warnings: Cannon typical violence, some fluff, some sad feels

A few days later

You all had managed to make it home in one piece. Jack was distraught and none of you knew how to help him. Death was an unfortunate part of living, and an unavoidable part of hunting. And how could you even begin to explain that to someone who’s been alive for a matter of weeks?

“I understand why you like the kid.” Dean says softly, “but I think we need to cool it with the training for a minute.” He gently slides his hand into yours, giving it a small squeeze.

“I just want him to see the world we fight for. To see what you and Sammy do is important.” You give him a meek smile.

“I know, sweetheart.” He kisses your temple, pulling you into his arms. “And you will. You make Sam and I believe in the Family Business all the time.” He chuckles.

You watch as the sleepy little town of Lebanon, Kansas rolls by; the sun is shining, crows flying through the air and baby roaring down the road. It’s amazing how the world rambles on, no matter the tragedy or joy that’s happening… Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you quickly fish it out to see a string of texts from Sammy.

“Jack isn’t taking it well.” You sigh, rubbing your eyes. Dean glances at you everyone once in a while, watching as you pull your lip in between your teeth and biting at the skin.

That’s not good. Dean thinks to himself.

“We’ll work through it.” He reassures you as he pulls up to the bunker. He swiftly glides the Impala into the garage, parking her right next to your little blue Subaru. He turns to open the door when he feels your hand on his thigh.

“You mean that?” You ask. He fully turns to you, eyes searching yours as much as yours are searching his.

“Ya.” He nods, taking a deep breath. “This case,” His gaze moves past you, eyes looking at something you can’t see. “It’s dug up a lot of memories of people I couldn’t save.”

“Dean-”

 “Not— not in a bad way sweetheart, just a reminder.” He gently cups one of your cheeks, thankful you are not one of those people. Not yet. He shakes the intrusive thought from his mind, bringing his other hand up to your cheek. “And we’ll help Jack get past this.” He brings his lips to yours, pouring every ounce of love he can into the kiss. The heat of your lips warms his body head to toe, a little bit of hope seeping back into his bones. Hope that this small bump in the road is all it is.

“And as fun as Dodge City was, I think you and I need some time alone.” Dean hums in your ear, placing a gentle kiss on your neck.

“Okay Romeo.” You giggle, playfully swatting at him. Your phone rings out and you gently pull away, earning a pitiful whine from your husband. “It’s Claire.” You sigh.

“Fine.” He playfully rolls his eyes as he slides back to his side of the car.

“Hey what’s up?”

“I need you to come help me with this case.” She blurts.

“I’m doing fine. Little stressed, how are you?” You roll your eyes. Dean flashes a smile as he gets out of the car, grabbing the bag of groceries and walking inside.

“Hi (Y/N). How are you? You wanna come on a hunt with me?” She pointedly repeats. “I could use the girl power, and a Winchester. Which you happen to be both…” A sudden wave of voices drowns out her words.

“Where are you?” You frown.

“Bar, about an hour away from Omaha.”

“Nebraska?” You scrunch your nose, sliding out of the car. “We’re kinda dealing with that baby situation still, and Dean’s finally….” As you put your hand on the door the lights in the garage flicker.

“(Y/N)?” Claire asks.

“Let me call you back.” The words slowly tumble out as you hang up, feet moving faster than your brain as you appear in the doorway to the war room. “What in sam hill happened?” You ask, running over to Dean.

“Jack’s gone.” Dean grunts as he stands, turning to help Cas.

“What?” You frown.

“Jack thinks he’s a monster.” Cas sighs as he plants himself in the nearest chair.

“What did Claire need?” Dean asks, leaning against the war table.

“Wanted help on a case.” You check him over as you direct your question to Sammy. “How are we going to find him? He can’t be out there alone.” Your mind starts to race with all the possible ways he could get hurt, or how he could accidentally hurt someone.

“Baby.” Dean pulls you back to face him.

“There’s so much that could happen.” You whisper, the terror rising in your voice. 

“Sweetheart.” He says firmly, squeezing your hands to get you to take a breath. “Go to Claire.” You open your mouth to protest but he shoots you a look, happy when your mouth snaps shut. “You help Claire, I’ll find Jack.”

“Call me -”

“When I find anything.” He nods, pulling you into his chest. “Gotta keep the kids alive.” He whispers in your ear.

“And you thought we didn’t have any kids.” You laugh.

“Should have known you’d get your way.” Dean chuckles, placing a kiss in your hair. “Be careful.” He whispers.

“I’m not the one who gets visits from Death on the norm.” You slap his back. “I will though… as long as you are too.”

“Promise.”

_______

The diner bell dings as you enter; It’s a little busy, but not much more than any of the ones back home. You wave to the waitress and pick up a couple of menus, sliding into the booth where Claire is sat. The waitress brings two mugs and a fresh pot of coffee, pouring each of you a cup before attending to the other patrons.

“We’re dealing with a nest of Vamps.” She begins.

“Why yes, the drive was good. Not much traffic, lot of semi trucks though.” You cock an eyebrow at her. She gives you a nod, letting a small sigh escape.

“Good. How’s the old man?” she asks, managing to keep the eye roll small. “ And Sam?”

“They’re good. Trying to track down that baby… who’s not actually a baby like we thought.” You frown, pouring a couple of creamers into your coffee.

“You guys always have the weirdest cases.” She shakes her head, taking a large gulp of her black coffee.

“Last name is Winchester. Pretty much a magnet for weird.” You pick the menu up, trying to read the specials but your eyes can’t seem to read any of the words. You check your cell. Nothing.

“Your volume is on-.” Claire grits her teeth as a notification dings. “If they found anything you would know.”

“Ya, well, if you ever disappear like this I would worry just the same.” You sigh. “Why did you need me on this hunt anyways?” You ask, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Can’t believe you drink it like that…” Claire looks at your mostly cream coffee in utter disgust.

“If I wanted criticism on how I take my coffee I would go find Lucifer.” You mutter.

“Like I said, I need a Winchester.” Claire reiterates. “Being a young female hunter has it's disadvantages.” Her eyes move to the door. “And Dean always tells the two of us to travel in pairs…”

You turn to see a pair of men walk in; they look like brothers, maybe a few years apart, dressed in standard issue hunter FBI suits. Ah, that’s why she didn’t want Dean.

“Brought a friend.” The older one smirks, sliding in next to you.

“(Y/N), Jason and Nick Clayton.” Claire gestures to the two. "We ran into each other while tracking one of the vamps."

“Pleasure.” You stick your hand out to Nick, the older one. “(Y/N) Winchester.” Before your name has even fully left your mouth both their jaws hit the floor. You glance at Claire, who simply shrugs.

“(Y/N) Winchester... like the one who killed Rasputin?” Jason asks.

“Killed– Dude she’s the one who took on the Devil AND GOD.” Nick exclaims.

“And freed so many trapped spirits in that haunted college–”

“And had an angel wipe her memory only for it not to work!”

You and Claire look at each other, the same look of bewilderment on your faces.

“Ok, cut the crap. It’s not like she’s famous.” Claire rolls her eyes.

“Not famous?” Nick scoffs. Claire looks over at you, her jaw clenching so hard that she’s about to break all her teeth.

“It’s because I’m Dean’s wife.” You shrug.

“What?” The brothers say in unison.

“No way. You’re not his wife. He’s your husband.” Jason clarifies.

“Lucky bastard.” Nick winks. You scoff at the absurd notion that you are more famous than Dean.

“Wow… Let’s move on from the fangirling ok?” Claire scrunches her nose in irritation.

"Now I know how Dean felt when we first met." whisper to her. "But yes, let's get this show on the road." You gesture for her to take the floor, letting her explain the current vampire problem in the area.

_______

“(Y/N)!” Claire yells as a vamp pins her to the floor. She squirms underneath him, her vision blurring as his hands close tighter around her throat. In the blink of an eye his head is gone, blood splattering her in the face.

“Thought you said you could take him?” You grin, offering your hand to her.

“Shut up.” She slaps your hand away, jumping to her feet.

“You ladies move fast!” Nick shouts as he takes out another vamp.

“Looks like it’s a party now.” You announce as the rest of the nest files inside.

“Let’s do this.” Jason grins. One vamp rushes Claire and in one clean swing his head is on the floor. Another rushes you, taking a swing of your pipe to the stomach before getting their head chopped off. 

“Pipe!” Claire yells, holding her hand out. You slap it into her palm, unsheathing your machete for another vamp as she takes the head off another. The four of you stand back to back, waiting for another wave or for someone to move.

“You know, this thing is really handy.” She breaks the silence, spinning the pipe in her hand before handing it back to you.

“Winchester original?” Nick asks.

“Saw it in a video game, thought I would give it a try.” You laugh, wiping some of the vamp guts off the knives taped to the top of it.

“We’re fucking awesome.” Claire scoffs as she slowly turns in a circle to look at all the dead vamps..

“Hell ya.” You hold your fist up and she bumps it.

“Where to next?” Jason asks.

“How about food? And sleep?” You grab Claire by the neck and lead everyone out of the barn. “And a shower. The vamps seemed extra bloody today.” You attempt to shake off some of it, but to no avail.

The two boys get in their car and you and Claire climb into hers.

"You ok?" You ask.

"Are you Kidding? We just had the coolest fight." She snorts, leaning against the steering wheel with a grin on her face.

"I meant about the fan club." You correct. "This was meant to be your hunt, not a Winchester spectacle." Not that I ever expected to be a spectacle...

"Kinda why I wanted you here." She mumbles, glancing at your sky high eyebrows. "It proved that I know what I'm doing... and that I have back up." You nod, watching as the trees whip past.

"Prove to who?" You ask, looking down at the dry vamp blood on your thighs. You see her body go rigid, hands firmly gripping the wheel.

"Me..." She answers after a moment. "... Jody."

"We all know you're a great hunter." You say softly. "It's just... not really the life that anyone wants their loved ones to have." You look over at her; she's got a bloody lip and a small scratch across her cheek but she still looks too young to be wanting this life. "But we all understand the choice." You smile at her. She smiles at you, relaxing into her seat as she speeds back to the motel.

_______

“Ya… thanks man.” Jason hangs up the phone, turning to the group. “Looks like we got the main nest. Hunters in the next county found a few stragglers but nothing else.”

Claire and Nick nod, talking about where else they could look. Their voices fade into the background, you mind racing with possible answers as to why-

“(Y/N?).” Claire whispers, gently touching your arm.

“Ya?”

“You ok?” Jason asks, sharing a look with his brother.

“I haven’t heard from Dean–”

“They’re fine.” Claire reassures, standing up from the table.

“It’s been three days… something’s wrong.” You sigh, looking out the window.

“This is why you shouldn’t fall in love. All you end up doing is worrying.” Claire glares.

“Little worry is good.” Jason smiles.

“You don’t worry about anyone?” Nick prods, earning an icy glare.

“I haven’t heard from Cas or Sam either.” Your frown deepens. 

“Wait, what?” Claire frowns. Dean tends to be hyper focused on hunting, but all three of them not keeping in touch? Definitely weird. She watches as you stare out the window, your expression flipping between worried and reprimanding yourself. “Maybe they don’t have cell service. Or they jumped in a lake with their phones again.” She shrugs. 

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Jason pats your shoulder. “Unfortunately we have to head out.”

“Family calls.” Nick agrees. You quickly exchange info, telling both of them if they need anything to call. You walk them to the door, watching as they drive off in Nick's 1967 Mustang.

“They seemed nice enough.” You shrug, taking a seat next to her on the bed.

“They were.” Claire nods. You wait for her to elaborate, watching as she studies her fingernails.

“So why call for backup?” Claire sighs, slamming her laptop closed and looking at you.

“Jody and Alex bond over helping people in normal ways.” She takes a deep breath in. “And I haven’t had that with anyone except you and Dean.”

“Sounds like you wanted some family-”

“I don’t need a family.” She states, the walls behind her eyes slowly building.

“Maybe not, but you have one.” You point out. “I don’t know what it’s like to be you Claire. But I do know you can’t keep everything inside.” You gently take her hand. “If Sam and Dean show you anything, it's that family can put you through hell, but they can also pull you out.”

Her phone buzzes loudly, you can’t see who’s calling but by the eye roll you have a good guess.

“Jody?”

“Ya. Although she already called in her weekly attempt to make me come back…” She mutters, moving her hand over the ignore button.

“Answer it.” You shout.

“Why? I already know what she-“

“Please.” You whisper. Her big doe eyes study you for a moment, and she answers.

“We’re on our way.” She tells Jody, grabbing her backpack and dragging you with her.

_______

24 hours later

“You ate a lizard?” You scrunch your nose in disgust.

“Not much else over there.” Dean chuckles against your neck.

“Claire should have stayed out here, your PDA would make her sick and she’d be back to herself in no time.” Alex playfully jabs as she grabs all her work stuff.

“Haha.” You give her a small wave as she leaves. When the door clicks shut Dean moves you into his lap, hands caressing your legs.

“Dean…” You half heartedly push his hands away. His finger ghosts over the big bandage on the side of your leg. You helped the girls save him and Sam, managing to limp away with only a gash in your leg. 

“Missed you sweetheart.” He mumbles, bringing his lips to yours.

“Missed you too.” You mumble back. He breaks the kiss, keeping his forehead against yours.

“Too close for both of us.” He states.

“Still thinking about you eating lizards.” you poke back.

“I mean it.” He takes a deep breath in, slowly letting his heart beat slow down. “To think about what could have happened.” He wraps his arms tightly around you, burying his face into your hair.

“I would rather not think about it.” You gently rub his back. “Spend too many hours doing that already.” You look out the screen door, watching as Donna, Sam and Jody laugh about something.

“Ugh, Alex was right. You two are gross.” Claire groans from the hall.

“Glad to see it puts your usual attitude back in place.” You chuckle, unraveling from Dean to look at her. She shrugs, plopping into the recliner. “You heading out?” you tentatively ask. Her eyes are puffy, hair scraped back into a ponytail.

“Think I might hang around here for a while… for Jody. And Alex.” She flashes a small smile.

“Good.” Dean nods.

“Embrace your people while they’re here.” You smile at her. 

“No good to keep everything inside.” She nods, picking at her nails. The screen door screeches as Sam walks in, taking a seat next to you and Dean.

”Well on a completely unrelated note, I am apparently more famous than you among hunters.” you poke Dean in the chest.

Dean whips his head back so fast he hits the wall behind the couch.

“Nice.” Sam chuckles.

“How?” Dean frowns. You just laugh, shaking your head and giving him a kiss.

“I mean… you are the prettiest Winchester.” Dean chuckles.

“Dean! You can’t say that when Sam is here!” You laugh.

“Ok, you guys are the worst.” Sam shakes his head and walks back outside.

Last Chapter Next Chapter

Tag list:

@deansqtpie

@supraveng

@winchestersgirl222

@fantasy-myth1

@laycblack

@urgirlarrielle

@akshi8278

@arctusluna

@malindacath

@lyarr24

@flamencodiva

@havesaltwilltravel

@deansbbyx

[amywritesthings]

Such a kind comment, friend! Thank you for the reblog xo

SEEING YOU, SEEING ME THE COMPLETED SERIES

After handling a life-or-death favor for Tess, you're in deep shit. Until she can make things right, she suggests you lay low at her place for the week. The issue? It's also Joel Miller's place, and you're pretty sure he hates you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (Joel x You) Rating: Explicit ( 18+ ) Word Count: 16K Tags: No Spoilers; Pre-TLOU, Mentions of death and violence, Age gap/difference, Slow burn, Angry!Joel, Eventual Smut, Semi-Enemies to Fuckers, Alcoholism, Mention of drug abuse, Masturbation, Manhandling, Light choking, Slight Sadism, Touch starved idiots, Guided Masturbation, Oral sex (f/m receiving), Protected p-i-v (wrap before you tap!), Dirty talk, Pet names, Open-ended epilogue Series Playlist: Found on Spotify

CHAPTERS

01. THERE, EVERYWHERE

02. BREAK IT TO ME GENTLY

03. THEY ARE TWO ALONE

04. CAN'T QUIT YOU, BABY

05. IN THE AIR TONIGHT

06. REACH OUT, TOUCH FAITH

EPILOGUE

ADDITIONAL STORIES

reckless. (a future one-shot.)

                                        ( Visit the AO3 story. )

[multifan2022]

Used to be yours part 3 Ideas

Hi babes, i know its been a long long long time. and I still have a lot of you hooked with this story which i love and cant put into words how much I appreciate. that being said its been a long rough road for me since the last time i really connected to my stories and wrote again. To try and ensure that i make as many people happy as possible i would love love to hear your wants for the next chapter or chapters! What do you guys want to see happen.

Anything you guys want to see let me know and ill do my best to do right by the old me and all of you!

Also if you want taken off the taglist just let me know, i wont be offended. I dont want to blow up anyones notifications if they dont want me to be <3

@maverick-wingman @atarmychick007 @sexualparkour @halo-mystic @themusingofagothicsoul @lumpypoll @cornishkat @boringusername3 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @weasleywinchester @misslildong @jynxmirage @lilyevanswhore @azenpal @itsdesiree86 @wannabewolf   @ultimate-geek14  @iwishtoliveinafantasy @dracofxckingluciusmalfoy  @black-repunzel99 @itsdesiree86 @lilmonstrjedi @xomrsalliej4787xo @princessmiaelicia @child-of-thedevil @notjustsomeblonde @melllinaa @sopheeg @callsign-viper @rainy-day-lady @kingofsantafe01 @pariahsparadise @lillie-g98 @marland56 @i-wear-wet-socks313 @haideehaids @jstarr86 @happypopcornprincess @scenesofobx @roostersgirlfrxend @eighthwvnder @katied06811 @ariacraigggg @wildlyobserving @untoldshortsofthefandoms @maddy3984 @alldaysdreamers @janechihard @variety-fangirl 

[musings-of-a-rose]

I CAN HAND DELIVER MESSAGES TO GARRETT ON SUNDAY!!

Hey everyone! I’ll be meeting Garrett on Sunday (!!!!) and would love to take any of your messages, etc to him and hand deliver them! If you’d like to send him a message or whatever, you can pm me here or send me an ask (don’t worry - I’ll leave your Tumblr name out of it and won’t post the ask) and I’ll print them out and hand them to him. 

The deadline would be Saturday night, 4/1 by like 10pm EST (as I have to get up early the next day). 

I'm going to put my taglists for him here in case ya'll want in:

All TF Boys:

@unic0rntaking0ver17645 @ahsokathearcher @thatpinkshirt @Whovianayesha @dobbyjen @tanzthompson @goodgriefitsawildworld @triggerhappyflygirl @jaime1110  @thisisthewaytofiction @kirsteng42 @xowlan @rosechvnel @ew-erin @hungrhay @maievdenoir @starlite41 @mrsparknuts @hotchlover @wildmoonflower @1andthesame @weasleywinchester @agentminnesota187 @nembees @paintlavillered @trickstersp8 @alwaysdjarin @trinkets01 @littlenosoul @witchygagirl @dindjarinswhore @your-voice-is-mellifluous @emilianamason @monalisastwin @modernperplexity 

Benny Miller Taglist:

@rebel-fanfare @corrabell @khiraeth @itspdameronthings @whiskeymeaway92  @blueeyesatnight @fastandfeminist  @glitzalia  @igotmajordaddyissues @bport76 @pretty-girl-likes-tea  @mermaidxatxheart @skvatnavle @im-ricks-flagg @nicolethered  @fabilei @darlingchanse @pascallllllll1 @Prostitute-robot-from-the-future @daniacat @its-a-show-stoppin-number

[weasleywinchester]

I Can't Help Myself - Ch. 5

Leaving Just You Picture Behind

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4| Ch.6

What is this thing called free time??? I managed to write another chapter for this series! I can't believe it's almost done!! And before the show comes out this month!! We get a little time jumpy in this chapter, mainly because I am following the timeline of the games. We also go from super cute parent/ellie vibes to sad vibes. mainly because I don't want to write the sad ending, but the little thing in my brain says I should... so I'm going to write sad ending and happy ending because this is my fic and yall are going to have to choose what ending you want to read, of course you can always read both. Thank you to everyone who's given this series a read, I love seeing you make your way through each chapter! And still taggin @sarahbellesaurus because you liked part 4 so here's part 5!

Series Summary:

This world isn’t kind to anyone; and heaven forbid anyone wants a slice of happiness. You wanted the stereotypical, as most people would tell you, dream of falling in love, getting married and having kids. After coming to Jackson, you kept that dream to yourself. Until your stupid best friend’s stupidly handsome older brother waltzes in, and you tell him. Joel thinks it's nice that you can hold onto a dream like that... and he let's his guard down just long enough to think maybe...he might want that too.

Chapter Summary: Thankful, Grateful, Blessed. In the world before it almost felt like those words haunted you; from stores to friends houses to birthday gifts. And then once the infection hit, it felt like the mocked you as you scavenged through houses, trying to survive. But maybe now, the could be some of the few words to describe your life. Warnings: All the feels, TLOU Pt. 2 spoilers, fighting (vocal and physical), illusions to death

A Year Later

“Momma!” Ellie shouts as she lets herself into the house.

“Upstairs!” You shout back. You can hear her take the steps two at a time, slowing as she reaches the doorway to your office.

“What’s shakin’ sugarpie?” You look up from the quilt you’re making, giving her a little smile.

“Where’s Billy?” She nods to the empty playpen next to your desk.

“He’s with Joel and Tommy.” You chuckle, kicking a pile of fabric off a stool so she can sit down.

“Bit young for a boys day out.” She softly chuckles.

“Never too early to get them out of my hair. But what did you want to ask me?” Your sewing machine softly whirs as you continue your project.

“I was talkin with Cat… about getting a tattoo.” She shrugs. Lots of people in town had them, and Cat was a pretty amazing tattoo artist. She learned from her uncle, who was an artist before the infection.

“Over the acid burn?” You nod. It was something you both had talked about. Ellie found it absolutely hilarious that you had a tiny knife tattoo on your middle finger, and ever since she saw it she wanted a tattoo.

“Ya… I was hoping you’d help me design one.” Your machine stops and Ellie looks up to see your look of surprise.

“Really?” You ask, the corners of your mouth gently tugging into a smile.

“Ya. You’re an amazing artist, with some of the best designs. And I want it to be a reminder.” She swallows hard, eyes focusing on the floor.

“Reminder of…” you prod.

“Of my family.” She shrugs again.

“I love that.” You smile, quickly packing up everything on your desk so you have space to work. You tell Ellie to throw a record on, while you pull out all your art books. You both flip through pictures, tabbing things that catch your eye.

“You still have your wedding dress?” Ellie asks as she flips through an old catalog. 

“Ya, in the closet. Why?”

“It had a fern design didn’t it?” She looks over to you, a smile slowly appearing. You quickly dig it out, putting it on the table. Both of you draw a few variations and compare.

“Think this one.” She points to one of hers. The fern is fully inked in, many tiny leaves on each stem.

“Ok, one piece down.” You sloppily recreate it on your own sketchbook, doodling around it.

“So you have a piece of me… maybe a piece of the mom you never got to meet?” You ask gently. Ellie nods slowly, trying to rack her brain for something.

“What about something like this?” You turn your book to her. You’ve drawn a different type of fern, but this one is just a simple outline. “Mine’s filled in, because we’ve gotten to live a life together, we’ve filled in a lot of gaps. Hers is an outline, a life lived before and for you, but not with you.”

Ellie gently reaches for your book, fingers gently tracing the outline. She hardly thought about her birth mom lately, only turning to her journal in empty nights alone.

“Do you ever think about her?” Ellie asks.

“I do.” Ellie’s eyes flick to your face. “I only know what you’ve shared. But somewhere deep in my bones I can feel her; mainly guiding me through your temper. I hope wherever she is, she’s content with how Joel and I have tried to take care of you.”

Ellie soaks in your words. She thought about what her mom might say to Joel, how she would thank him for keeping her safe. Or maybe how she’d lay into him for stopping the fireflies. But she hadn’t thought what would happen if she met you. A stranger that was the only one who ever felt like home.

“She’d be thankful, for everything. Much like I am.” Ellie pats your hand.

“Thanks Sugarpie.” You lay your hand on top, taking a deep breath in. “Feel like you need one more piece.”

“I already know what it is.” She sighs.

_______

“How’s your ink?” Joel chuckles. The dirt crutches beneath his feet as he guides you along the patrol route.

“Healin’ nicely.” You pull him down to you, kissing him on the cheek. He gently takes your arm, turning it to reveal your tattoos.

“Can’t believe my own son stole my nickname.” He playfully grumbles as his fingers gently caress the little bumble bee that sits on top of a lavender flower.

“Who else could ever be worthy?” You giggle.

“I guess that’s true.” He gives you a kiss, letting his lips linger for just a second more. It’s the moments like these that he remembers best. The way you smile at him, how you dance in the sunlight, the way the breeze carries you laugh.

“Have you seen Ellie’s?” You quietly ask, threading your fingers through his.

“Much bigger than both of yours.” He nods. It wasn’t much of a shock that she got one, she always liked the one on your finger. He was a little surprised it wasn’t anything Savage Starlight related though.

“We designed it together.” You tell him, “You like the moth?”

“Reminds me of the one on my guitar.” He flashes a smile, pulling your hand up to his lips and kissing the tips of your fingers.

“‘Cause it is.” You whisper. His eyes narrow at you, not sure what you’re playing at. “All I’m sayin’ is don’t stop trying. She’s comin around. There’s too much between you to let that all go forever.” You press your lips to his, smiling when he pulls you close.

"And you didn't want a matchin' one?" He chuckles.

"And miss the opportunity to permanently adorn my skin with a Joel Miller original weapon design?" You laugh, flashing the little pipe with scissors taped to the top.

"Only you Darlin'." He shakes his head, grabbing you and smothering you in a kiss.

_______ 

A Year Later

“(Y/N), your terror is pullin’ on the lights again!” Tommy shouts from the top of his ladder.

“Mmm, can’t help it if Billy loves his uncle!” You shout from behind the bar. You look around at the team putting together the dance hall. It looks so magical with all the lights strung everywhere, the warm glow of the fire.

“Come here munchkin.” Ellie sighs, picking him up as he giggles in excitement. He wraps his little arms around her, trying to grab her hair that’s been scraped into a ponytail. She moves it out of the way, giving him a silent no.

"Pie!" He giggles as her fingers tickle his sides.

"Got you booger." She chuckles as he giggles louder.

“We gunna see you at the dance tonight?” You ask, leaning around her to smile at Billy. He gives you a toothy grin, tucking his head into his sister's neck.

“Uh… maybe” Ellie shrugs. Things have been a little less tense with Joel, she’s managed to keep herself in line for the sake of you and Billy;  but she still tries to keep her distance. “Who’s babysittin?”

“Molly next door. She said she wants practice.” You chuckle as Billy reaches for you. You take him from her, bouncing him as you hand Tommy the rest of the lights.

“I heard Dina is newly single.” You say low enough for only her to hear. She hums in acknowledgment, which makes you smile. They were always friends but Ellie started lookin at her a bit differently after Dina started hopping from boyfriend to boyfriend, and yet always ended up stumbling to Ellie’s every time she broke up with them.

“Remember what I told you the night Joel proposed?”

“That you love us?” She smartly remarks. You shake your head and lean over to her.

“That you have to dance with the people you love at least once.” You wink.

_______

“I don’t need your help Joel!” Ellie yells. You quickly make your way around the bar, closing the space between you and him but he quickly turns and brushes past you.

“Joel!” You call after him, your body following but your eyes glued on Ellie. You give her an apologetic look, running after your husband. As you stumble outside you see Joel making his way toward home, but Maria is standin' across the street with-

“Seth!” You yell, calmly walking over to him.

“You gunna claim her as yours you need to get her-” He spits as you slam your shin right into his crotch before he can finish.

“(Y/N)!” Maria warns. You ignore her, throwing a jab to his eye and the heel of your hand up his nose. The force is enough to knock him flat on his ass, the snow around dotted with red.

“Stay away from my daughter you jackass!” You scream, kicking him for good measure and running off to find your husband.

“Joel!” You shout after him, jogging as fast as you can to catch him.

“She’s made it clear she doesn’t want anything to do with me.” He yells over his shoulder.

“That’s not true…”

“Then what the hell was that in there?” He whips around so fast you startle, tripping over your own feet and landing flat on your ass.

“Ow.” You wince.

“Sorry Darlin.” Joel sighs, helping you to your feet. He helps brush the snow off you, grunting as you wrap yourself around him. You put your chin on his chest and wait until he looks down at you.

“She’s trying to figure out where she fits in Honeybunch. And it constantly feels like it’s not here.” Joel pulls your hood up, tightening the cords as he mulls over your words. “She came to the dance…”

“Not for us.”

“No teenager goes to a community function for family. Does that matter anyways? Not everyone can be as… lucky as us. She’s gotta find her way, in her own time.” You pucker your lips at him, which makes him roll his eyes as he gives you a kiss.

“How do you do that?” He mumbles against your mouth.

“What?” You smile against his.

“Get my head out of my ass.” He presses another kiss to your lips, his tongue gently sliding along the seam of yours, both of you humming happily as your tongues tangle.

 “I was coming to see if y’all were ok, and clearly you are.” Tommy chuckles. You begrudgingly unseal your mouth from Joel, shooting Tommy a glare.

“Momma!” Billy lurches in Tommy’s arms for you.

“Come here honey bee.” You take Billy, laughing as he burrows his face in your neck.

“I’ll meet you back at the house.” You tell Joel, tilting your head for his kiss goodbye.

“Want me to take Billy?” He gives you a quick peck, gently rustling Billy's hair.

“Nah, we’re gunna go see Sugarpie.” You tell Billy, who gives a small yea in response. Joel gives you a curt nod, walking back inside with Tommy. You watch for a minute and then quickly make the trek home.

You knock on Ellie’s door, happy when she lets you in.

“I have an early patrol.” She states.

“And I have half a mind to smack you.” You cheerfully tell her as you set Billy on her bed.

“I don’t need his help.” She huffs, sitting at her desk.

“I know, and it doesn’t matter.” You sit on the crate across from her. “Ellie, he’s your dad for all intents and purposes. He’s always going to want to help you, protect you, be there for you. None of that stops simply because you want it to.” You watch as she picks at a loose thread on her pants.

“Sugar, we don’t know when our last days are. Don’t let the last words you say to people you love be ones you regret.” You gently put your hand on her arm. Her green eyes turn to you, knowing that, like usual, you’re right.

_______

The Next Morning

“Hey, I gotta stop at the house.” Ellie tells Dina as they make their way to the stables.

“Ya, sure.” Dina shrugs following after her. Ellie slowly makes her way up the porch, letting herself in.

“Pie!” Billy yells in delight from the living room.

“Hey B.” She gives him a kiss as you come around the corner.

“His shift already started.”

“You responsible for the black eye?” Ellie questions. Maria made Seth apologize to her this morning, not that it did anything to make her feel better. It did warm Ellie's heart to see Seth's big black eye. Maria wouldn’t say who did it, which meant it wasn't Tommy or Joel. And of course Seth would have told everyone if it was Joel, and he would never admit if you were the one to beat him up.

“That all he walked away with?” You frown, trying your best to keep your smile at bay. Ellie rolls her eyes, wrapping you in a hug.

“Think your route crosses path with his, maybe say hello…” You give her one last squeeze before letting her go.

“You mean sorry.”

“Smarter then you look sugarpie.” You pat her shoulder and spin her toward the door. “Make sure to stay warm, keep your eyes peeled.”

“Do you think he would... want to watch a movie tonight?” Ellie quietly asks, opening the door and giving you one last hug.

“I think he’d love that.” You smile, waving to Dina, who flashes a smile. Ellie quickly walks down the stairs, turning to give you one last wave.

“Watch her Dina!” You yell. You assume Ellie rolled her eyes by the way Dina laughs.

_______

“(Y/N)!”

You turn to see Jeremy running toward you, a look of worry on his face.

“Jer, what’s wrong?” You catch him as he slows to a stop.

“Jesse radioed in, Joel and Tommy never checked in. And there were strangers spotted not too far out of town.”

“Ellie?”

“Jesse went to find her and Dina. They’re going to cover the route, figured you’d want to be on the scout team too.”

You can feel the panic rise in your chest; you take Jeremy by the hand and run into the barn.

“Woah there-” Maria chuckles.

“Can you watch Billy?” You ask, trying your best to saddle your horse.

“(Y/N)... what’s wrong?”

“Can you watch Billy?” You ask louder.

“Ya sure.” She nods, backing up as you mount your horse and take off on the trail. You ride hard to the ridge that surrounds the mountain lodge; it was a place that Joel and Tommy frequented when they wanted to play their instruments in peace. You’re not sure why they would end up there in this bad weather, but something was telling you to start there. As you reach the ridge you leave your horse in a nearby stable.

Jeremy managed to keep up, quietly following you as you scuttle toward the edge. You belly crawl the rest of the way, using the scope of your gun to see down below.

“Anything?” Jeremy whispers.

“Two of our horses, lots of people outside. Burned infected at the gate” You whisper back.

“Clear up here.” He confirms. You can feel him sit by your feet, his back to you so he can keep watch.

You try to calm your breathing, watching as the people outside patrol the lodge. Your scope moves to the large windows at the front, and you can see him. You watch as a girl not much older than Ellie shoots Joel in the leg. You jerk, feeling Jeremy keep you in place.

“What’s happening?” He harshly whispers.

“Joel’s been shot.” You push past your teeth. You watch, seeing the flash of something silver come in contact with Joel’s face. That’s when you see her. Her little brown pony tail poking out of her hood. Ellie, get out of there.

“Be ready.” you whisper, taking a deep breath in and cocking your gun. You hear Jeremy do the same. The girl winds up once more and you pull the trigger. The shot rings out, scaring the horses below and sending the guards scrambling. You manage to shoot several of them, the pure white snow now a river of red.

You turn back to the lodge window, seeing two people dragging the girl, one dragging Ellie and two more dragging Joel. You let two more shots fly; one hits one of the people dragging Joel and the other gets the person dragging Ellie right in the neck.

“Jeremy?” you whisper, panic rising in your throat.

“Clear.” He whispers back.

You let a few more shots fly until the group drops Joel and Ellie, fleeing into their vehicles. You scramble back from the hillside and dig out your radio.

“Heather, do you copy?”

“Copy.”

“Lodge trail. Light it up NOW.” You yell. Jeremy peels you away, leading you back to the horses. You can hear gunshots in the distance, hoping that it did some damage. You quickly ride down to the lodge, staying close to Jeremy as you both make it inside. He does a quick sweep, coming for you when it’s clear.

You hear her before you see them, her sobs bouncing off the walls and deep into your skull.

“Ellie.” You engulf her in your arms, blood smearing across your jacket as you try to calm her.

“Back-up is on the way.” Jeremy whispers, keeping his eyes on the windows.

“Move her into the next room, away from the windows.” You command, pushing Ellie into Jeremy’s arms. Her scream is like a baby being ripped away from their parents, you can feel it vibrate your bones. Calm, stay calm. You take a deep breath and turn to Joel. He’s bloody, his shallowing breathing matching the pace of your heart.

“(Y/N)?”

You turn to see Tommy slumped against the wall.

“We got people on the way.” you nod.

_______

“Ellie?”

You startle at the unexpected voice, moving to your hiding spot along the wall.

“Shit.” You hear two sets of feet scramble, immediately going to Joel.

“Dina? Jesse?” You stand up, your brain not quite believing your eyes.

“(Y/N), what the fuck happened?” Jesse asks, arms reaching for you.

“Ellie’s in the next room, grab her and get back to Jackson. She’s a little roughed up but she’ll make it.” You rub his arms, like a mom warming up her kid from the cold.

“Joel…” Dina asks.

“Can’t do anything until the cavalry is here." You glance at him, "Please, take Ellie and ride as fast as you can.” You swallow both of them in a hug. You take a deep shaky breath, gasping to keep the sob inside.

“I’ll stay.” Jesse whispers. “Dina can take Ellie.” 

“No! No.” You take both of them and lead them to the next room. “You have to watch each other, we don’t know if anyone is hanging around.” You gently shake Ellie, helping her stand and handing her off to Dina.

“We’ll make sure to put the whole town on alert.” Dina nods, helping Ellie out of the lodge. Jesse gives you one last hug, handing you his snacks and jogging after his friends.

_______

The mumbling. You’ve always hated when people talked in hushed tones, as if you didn’t know what they were talking about, or who. It didn’t help that the storm outside had settled, leaving the trees to groan in the silence, the snow to snapping the weakest limbs.

“(Y/N).” Jeremy’s voice is gentle, his hand resting on your shoulder. Your voice is lost in your throat; so you simply turn your head toward him.

“We have to move him.”

Your eyes turn back to Joel, his lungs wheezing with every breath. Silent tears blur your vision, a fat drop falling on Joel’s sleeve as you nod. 

Jeremy helps you to stand, making a note that you’ll need a set of new clothes before you go back to town. You’d scare the shit out of everyone with how much blood you have down the front of you. A few people come in with a stretcher, staring at the state Joel is in.

“Be careful.” Jeremy tells them, snapping everyone out of their daze. The four of you move Joel, trying your best to be quick and gentle.

“Blankets.” You mumble, gathering the few that were found in the cupboards and wrapping Joel. The two gently lift the stretcher and take him outside where the covered wagon is waiting.

“Ready?” Jeremy asks.

“Be right up.” You swallow hard. You listen as his footsteps fade down the hall, the door quietly closing. You look up to see the golf clubs still sitting in their bag. You walk over, taking out the one with the biggest head. You twirl it around, feel the weight of it in your hands, and start swinging.

[selfcarecap]

I do t think I’ve ever cried so much in a marvel movie 😭💜💜💜 such beautiful tribute to Chadwick and T’challa

Same 😭😭😭 cried like 7+ times but it was so nice and so well done and obv emotional (in an amazing and heartwarming way)😭❤️

[multifan2022]

Used to be yours

To everyone asking! Yes there will be a part 2! Its already partially written but i would love to hear about anything you guys want to see happen! 

@maverick-wingman @atarmychick007 @sexualparkour @halo-mystic @themusingofagothicsoul @lumpypoll @cornishkat @boringusername3 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @weasleywinchester @misslildong @jynxmirage @lilyevanswhore @azenpal @itsdesiree86 @wannabewolf   @ultimate-geek14  @iwishtoliveinafantasy @dracofxckingluciusmalfoy  @black-repunzel99

 to anyone i missed! let me know if you want to be tagged <3

[katareyoudrilling]

The Sweepstakes: Dave York (Porn Star AU)

Taglist:

@lovesbiggerthanpride @kirsteng42 @pedrohoe04 @greeneyedblondie44 @pagannightwitch @kaitieskidmore1 @alexxavicry @mandoblowmybackout @mswarriorbabe80 @nothoughtsjustmeds @loonymagizoologist @aynsleywalker @maievdenoir @ruhro7 @amneris21 @davnittbraes @theravenreads @bravopeach  @bport76 @eppy816 @harriedandharassed @thirddeadlysin @chloepluto1306 @raspberrymama @avengersfan25 @weasleywinchester @motheroftorches @thevoiceinyourheadx @starfleetteddybear @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @veryprairieberry @littlemisspascal @whataperfectwasteoftime @just-here-for-the-moment @deadhumourist @pedrostories @neddrollsdice @thirsty-flygirl @yespolkadotkitty @wheresarizona @mandobi @mymommmy @drillingkat

The Sweepstakes: Dave York (Porn Star AU)

Pairing: Porn Star Dave York x Female Reader

Summary: You’ve never been able to explore your kinks with a partner.  Could a night with a porn star give you that opportunity?

Word count: ~2.6k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: kink negotiation, some choking and breath play, unprotected PiV (paperwork is involved), oral sex (m and f receiving), multiple orgasms

A/N: This is rougher sex than I have written before, and I definitely got in my head about it.  Please heed the warnings, but also know that it’s still me writing it, no matter how much Dave York tried to say otherwise.  The company mentioned is heavily inspired by Bellesa.  Bonus points to anyone who can guess which performer in particular inspired this one.  Enjoy!

Comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist �� link in my bio and on my Masterlist

You can’t believe you’re standing in the room you’ve seen so many times on your laptop and phone.  White walls, hardwood floor, gauzy white curtains, and most importantly… the bed.

You take a deep, calming breath and wipe your damp palms down your leggings as pace around the room waiting for him to arrive.

It all started when you saw an ad for “The Sweepstakes” advertised on your favorite porn site.  It said, “Enter for a chance to win a night with your favorite porn star!”  You filled out the form before you could even stop to think about it.

You won and now you wait anxiously for your choice to arrive – Dave York.

You love Dave’s videos.  He can go from laughing and flirting to intense and demanding in the blink of an eye. It’s ridiculous how much that dichotomy turns you on.

You don’t feel turned on right now, though.  You feel very, very nervous.  You take another calming breath just as the doors open and Dave York walks in.

In his more scripted videos, he’s often cast as a businessman, wearing a suit and tie, or maybe just a dress shirt and slacks.  In the casual, unscripted ones, he wears all black.

That’s what he’s wearing today.

His black sweater strains across his broad, muscled shoulders.  Track pants hang low on his trim waist.  He’s clean shaven and his dark hair is short and neat. If it weren’t for the intensity of his gaze, he would probably just look like an average guy.

He’s anything but.

Dave extends his hand to you and introduces himself.  You manage to fight through the haze of nerves and arousal to do the same.

“Erin asked me to go over your sexual interest survey with you to make sure we’re on the same page, since your tastes run on the rough side.”  His deep, gravelly voice vibrates through your body sending jolts of need to your core.  It’s so much better in person than through a tiny phone speaker.

You met with the director, Erin, earlier in the day to sign releases and fill out paperwork related to your sexual history, health, and interests.  You even agreed to be filmed for your private use.  A chance like this doesn’t come around every day.

You nod and Dave looks down at the papers he’s holding.

“Let’s start with spanking, how hard do you like it?” he asks, warm brown eyes meeting yours.

“I… uhhh…. I don’t actually know,” you stammer.  Dave waits patiently for you to continue.  “My partners have never been willing to uhh… try things with me.”  That’s an understatement.  Not only have your partners not been willing, they have looked at you like you were crazy.  “I like watching it.  I like it when you do it,” you choke out, heat flooding your cheeks as you look anywhere but at him.

Dave sets the papers down on the bed and reaches for you, lifting your chin up so you meet his eyes.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed.”  His hypnotic, liquid chocolate gaze starts to melt the tension you’re holding in your shoulders.  “We can try these things and find out if you like them, but you have to talk to me.  If you can’t, then we can’t.  Can you do that?”

You nod.

“Say it,” he commands, but not unkindly.  Heat floods your center.

“I can do that,” you answer, a bit breathlessly.

“If you say no, or stop, or anything else to indicate something isn’t working for you, I will stop immediately.  Understood?”

“I understand.”

“Good,” he smiles and picks up the paper again.  “Let’s talk about breath play.”

A burst of adrenaline floods your body as Dave moves closer to you.  Holding your gaze, he lifts his arm and places the heal of his hand against your collarbone.  Your heart beats loudly in your ears as he gently wraps his fingers around your throat.  You can still breathe normally even as he squeezes gently.

“I will not squeeze harder than this, is this ok?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Good, remember at any time you can tell me to stop, and I will.  Now…” he removes his hand from your throat and brings it towards your mouth.  “I will only cover your nose and mouth for five seconds at a time, ok?”

“Ok,”

“Let’s practice.”

Staring intently into your eyes, he covers your nose and mouth and counts to five.  Your fingers and toes tingle as the adrenaline courses through your body.  Dave’s pupils dilate as he watches your reaction.

Five seconds isn’t very long at all, but you gulp in air when he removes his hand.  The rush goes straight to your head and you sway towards him.  Large hands steady your shoulders.

“How was that? Are you ok?” he asks, his voice husky with his own arousal.

“That was… very good,” you reply shakily.  Your pussy is already throbbing, and you’ve barely begun.

“Good,” Dave murmurs.  He’s still so close.  You can feel the warmth radiating off his body, he squeezes your arms before letting his hands drop.  “Is there anything else you want?”

“I want…” you take a shaky breath, locked into Dave’s hypnotic gaze, “to be thrown around a little.”

Dave licks his lips, “Fuck yes,” he replies, closing the distance between you.  “You want me to use you?”  His eyes are as black as his sweater as he crowds your vision.  Desire ripples off him in waves.  It hits you that he desires you and it and makes your knees weak.  You nod, hypnotized by his gaze.

“Can I kiss you?” he practically growls.

You whimper yes and melt into him as he plunges his tongue into your mouth.  He’s so intense and overwhelming.  God, you hope the cameras are already recording.

Your head swims with arousal as he explores your mouth, pulling you tighter against his broad frame.  Your hands fist in his sweater as you fight the urge to climb up his body.

You break apart panting.  Dave steps back, his large hands helping keep you steady.

“I have to take this back to Erin,” he swallows and holds up your paperwork, now slightly crinkled from getting crushed between your bodies, “and give you a few minutes to make sure you haven’t changed your mind.”

Dave steps away from you and heads for the door.  You can’t help but notice the bulge in his pants that wasn’t there before.  You lower yourself to sit on the edge of the bed on wobbly legs.

He pauses at the door and turns back to you, “One more question.  Are you wearing underwear?”

“No,” you blurt out, surprised.  He smirks and leaves the room.

You collapse backwards onto the bed, taking in a deep lungful of air to try to calm down.  You’re embarrassingly wet between your legs.

No.

Not embarrassing, you correct yourself.

Just because your previous partners haven’t been open to trying these kinks does not make it embarrassing that you are into them.  There wouldn’t be a whole industry devoted to these things if you were the only one.  Dave certainly seems to be.

You push yourself back up to sitting.  The nerves you felt when you waited for him the first time have burned away in the wake of your arousal.  Your knee bounces impatiently as you wait for him to come back.

You pop back onto your feet when you hear the door handle begin to turn.  Dave enters the room with a question in his eye.  You nod.  There is no way you have changed your mind.

He stalks towards you like a jungle cat and pulls you into another kiss, hands cradling your face.  He’s less desperate this time, but still eager, confident, demanding.

You allow your hands to run down his sides, over the rippling muscles under his thin sweater.  You feel the divot at his hipbone, but instead of trailing down to explore the swell you feel against your abdomen, you slip your hands under his sweater and draw them up his back.

Dave chuckles and breaks the kiss, allowing you to pull his sweater off over his head.  You drag your fingers down the smooth, golden skin of his chest.  You whimper as your fingers get to the waistband of his pants.

He reclaims your mouth with a curse and turns you, so the backs of your legs knock against the side of the bed.  His large hands roam down your body and hitch under your thighs.  Before you realize what he’s doing, he lifts you up and tosses you onto the bed.

You squeal as you bounce.  But before your bottom hits the bed a second time, Dave whips your leggings down past your ass and pushes your knees into your chest.  He dives into your pussy like a man starved.

Your squeals of surprise rapidly turn into moans as his expert tongue sweeps over your throbbing cunt.  His question about underwear makes sense now.

Your hands scrabble for purchase on the bedding as Dave presses you open and feasts at your core.

All the buildup of being here, discussing your list, and finally getting to kiss and touch the subject of so many of your fantasies has you pulsing against his mouth in no time.

Dave pulls back from you to stand by the bed with a satisfied smirk on his face, pulling your leggings the rest of the way off and tossing them on the floor.

As your orgasm fades, leaving you boneless on the bed, you can’t help the huge smile that spreads across your face, or the laugh that escapes your chest.

“What’s so funny,” Dave watches you from beside the bed, eyes twinkling.

“You just… just…. that was so good and I’m just so glad I’m here,” you smile up at him.  You’re no longer nervous.  You’re excited to be here and experience all of this with him.

“I’m glad you’re here too.”  Dave begins to pull down his track pants and you scramble up and over to him to kneel eagerly at the side of the bed.  Now it’s Dave’s turn to laugh.  “Do you want something, beautiful?”

You preen internally at the nickname and don’t even bother to hide your enthusiasm.

“I want to suck your cock.”

“Look who has things to say now.  I think that orgasm loosened your tongue,” he teases you gently, his eyes flashing with humor and want as he frees the cock you’ve been dreaming about.

He’s so perfect.

You lick your lips and pull your top over your head before lining up to take him in your mouth.  Dave hisses as you draw him in.  He strokes your cheek and neck as he watches you.

With every flick of your tongue the ache between your legs builds, until you’re moaning around him with every stroke.

You pop off to catch your breath and Dave eagerly claims your mouth.  He climbs on the bed, pushing you onto your back and crowding your vision, never taking his mouth of you.  He kisses down your neck and nips at your shoulders and breasts as he lines up at your entrance.

“You ready for this cock, beautiful?”

You nod and pull him towards you with your heels.

“So eager for it,” Dave growls as he presses into your wet heat.

Your eyes roll back in your head as he fills you so perfectly.  He plies you with long, firm strokes, pressing you deeper into the mattress, covering your body with his.

He’s all you can see and feel and you melt beneath him, giving yourself over to the force of him.  Your orgasm begins to build in the distance, but before it can take hold, Dave rolls the two of you so that you’re now on top.

His hands stroke up your torso, cupping your breasts and tweaking your nipples as you adjust to the new angle.

Dave pistons up into you, his abdominal muscles tensing with the effort.  His strong hands hold your hips firmly against him.  A boldness you’ve never felt before washes over you as you grasp one of his hands and bring it to your throat.

He places his hand exactly as he said he would, at the base of your throat.  You lean into him, knowing you are in control and could lean back at any time, but the theoretical danger of it sizzles under your skin.  His strong fingers squeeze slightly sending dizzying waves of pleasure through your body.

You stare into his eyes, never breaking contact, as he brings you to the brink.  Your clit throbs, seeking the friction of his body, you’re so close to breaking when he pulls out and flips you over onto your stomach.

He drags your hips in the air and presses your shoulders down onto the bed as he drives into you and smacks your ass.  Your pussy clenches in response.

“You like that don’t you?”

“Yes, oh my god yes,” you babble incoherently.

“I feel that tight pussy grabbing me.”  He smacks your ass again for emphasis and you clench around him again.

He is so deep in this position.  He thrusts into you slowly, dragging his cock against your sensitive walls, allowing the orgasm to ebb away in favor of slow sensation punctuated with the stinging of his palm.

You press your hips back into him, savoring every thrust and allowing your mind to drift.  You are not in control here.  He will move you when he’s ready, you don’t have to think, just feel.

Seemingly to prove your point, he pulls out and flips you once again.  This time onto your side before pulling you into his chest.

His strong arms band around your hips and shoulders as he enters your slippery cunt from behind.  You are at his mercy and nothing has ever made you feel more alive.

He nibbles at your ear as he spews praise and filth under his breath – how good you feel, how wet you are, how he’s going to make you come so hard.

You don’t doubt his promises and when his hand comes up to cover your mouth, all you can do is take and take and take his cock.

You are only need and sensation, unable to move other than how he moves you.  Everything else falls away except the white hot pleasure taking over your body.  He has edged you over and over and you half expect him to do it again, but this time your climax is barreling towards you at full force.

“Give it to me,” Dave demands in your ear, and you launch off a cliff.

He removes his hand and you gasp for air, sparks clouding your vision.  He doesn’t let up as you pulse and scream around him.  He presses on your mound, intensifying the waves of pleasure wracking through your body.

He stutters and moans raggedly behind you, emptying himself into your fluttering pussy.

You sag against him, spent and floating.  He presses kisses between your shoulder blades and up your neck as he helps disentangle your bodies.

You catch your breath, staring at the ceiling above you and then over at the glistening man next to you.

“That was…. amazing.”  A whole new world has been opened to you, and you definitely like it.  “Thank you.”

Dave props himself up on his elbow and looks down at you, angular jaw and aquiline nose catching the light of the fading sunset.

“That was just round one, beautiful.  You have me all night.”  He winks before kissing you once again.

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

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist- in reblog

[musings-of-a-rose]

To everyone on my TF Boy taglist, I cannot for the life of me get everyone's tags to work. I have tried everything I know how to do and Tumblr refuses to let me tag you:

@unic0rntaking0ver17645 @ahsokathearcher @thatpinkshirt @Whovianayesha @dobbyjen @tanzthompson @goodgriefitsawildworld @triggerhappyflygirl @jaime1110 @thisisthewaytofiction @kirsteng42 @xowlan @rosechvnel @ew-erin @hungrhay @maievdenoir @starlite41 @mrsparknuts @hotchlover-blog @wildmoonflower @1andthesame @weasleywinchester @agentminnesota187 @nembees @paintlavillered @trickstersp8 @alwaysdjarin @trinkets01 @littlenosoul @witchygagirl @dindjarinswhore @your-voice-is-mellifluous @emilianamason @monalisastwin @modernperplexity @midnightswithdearkatytspb @bitchwitch1981 @mrscadilllac @casa-boiardi @cakipy-blog @simping-soldat @mrsvedder12 @marantha @Darkheartgatita @survivingandenduring @readiskeepingmegoing @CasualFancyDonut @lulawantmula @inept-the-magnificent @myconglomerateromance @swiss-mrs @iamchallengerred @darkgoddes187

[weasleywinchester]

I Can't Help Myself - Ch. 6

And I Kissed it a Thousand Times

Series Summary:

This world isn’t kind to anyone; and heaven forbid anyone wants a slice of happiness. You wanted the stereotypical, as most people would tell you, dream of falling in love, getting married and having kids. After coming to Jackson, you kept that dream to yourself. Until your stupid best friend’s stupidly handsome older brother waltzes in, and you tell him. Joel thinks it’s nice that you can hold onto a dream like that… and he let’s his guard down just long enough to think maybe…he might want that too.

Chapter Summary: You should have killed her. Should have shot her right in the heart and put her the ground. You couldn't move, you life frozen at the exact second your husband took his last breath. And yet, time sill moved forward; a few days had passed, filled with uncertainty if those bastards that did this would be caught, if your family would ever fill whole again, if you would ever fill whole again. As much as you tried to keep everyone together, this path would take you to the limit.

warnings: Violence (beating, gun shots, blood, death), cursing

“(Y/N)?” Maria pokes her head into the house. The only answer she gets is the gentle creek of the foundation settling. She readjusts Billy in her arms, making sure not to wake him as she steps into the house. She peers into the living room, seeing you’ve moved from the couch. She sets Billy down, taking a look in each room before heading upstairs. Your office door is wide open, the quilt you were making still pressed under the sewing foot. She makes her way over to your bedroom, gently knocking.

After a second of silence she slowly opens the door. Her eyes find you laying on the bed, your body convulsing with every breath. She doesn’t know what to say. What could she say? Nothing. Nothing that a dozen people haven’t said already. She comes around the bed, sitting in front of you. You’re awake, eyes red, face tear stained even though no more fall down your face.

“Billy’s been askin for you. And Ellie.” She says softly, moving your hair out of your face.

“Is he her—here?” You hiccup.

“Ya.” She nods. “Charlotte has quite a few kids at the daycare today, told here I would take him.” You sit up, moving into the bathroom and splashing your face with cold water. You try to keep your eyes forward, only focusing on what you need for the task at hand.

“Just sit with him for a little bit. I can take him for a few nights.” She’s seen a few towns folk go through a loss like this, but it’s different when it’s so personal.

“Ellie?” You ask, keeping your hands firmly on the bathroom counter.

“Pie!” Billy’s giggle floats up the stairs. His laugh feels like a warm blanket wrapping around you. You can hear Ellie talking to him, telling him how much she loves him.

You quickly throw on the nearest flannel and make your way down stairs. You slowly walk into the living room, keeping your eyes on the floor until you see Billy hugging your legs. You scoop him up, his smile turning into a frown as he looks at you.

“Seen that frown somewhere else.” Ellie whispers, wrapping her arms around you and setting her head on your shoulder.

“Me too.” You manage to whisper back.

“Howdy family.” Tommy’s deep voice reverberates through the house. You feel his hand at your back as he gives the side of your head a kiss. You close your eyes, waiting for a second kiss from the second Miller brother, but it never comes.

“Let’s all watch a movie.” Tommy suggests, putting in the first tape he finds. You and Ellie move as one unit to the couch, sitting on one side of it. Billy wiggles out of your lap, and runs to the chair Maria has settled in. He yanks at the blanket, running back to you, climbing Ellie’s leg like a monkey. He proceeds to tuck you in, giving you a big sloppy kiss and snuggling against your chest.

You blankly watch the TV, trying to keep yourself laser focused on anything; the static edges of the old TV, memorizing where each scratch in the wood is, the way Billy’s hair has a slight wave to it like … You take a deep breath in, hugging Billy closer.

“You want us to take him?” Maria asks. You shake your head, trying to pull yourself back together. 

You manage to make it through the majority of the movie. Once Billy was asleep you took him up to your bed, laying him, and yourself, down. It was odd, the feeling of being so empty. You knew death was inevitable, you just never imagined watching as … It wasn’t so much his death, just the tragedy of it. Being helpless to save him, to get help in time.

“Momma?” Ellie croaks, coming to lay opposite of you. You stare at each other, not saying a word but knowing exactly what the silence means. A single tears rolls down her cheek, quickly followed by a steady stream of them. You pull her close, sandwiching Billy in between your bodies as the pillows catch your tears.

_______

The Following Night

Couldn't sleep. Not that it was unusual, but you knew you could fucking use it. Your brain leaping from memory to memory, good, bad and everything in between. The twitch started in your fingers, stretching them, opening and closing your fists in attempt to get it to go away. Then it moved to your toes; the wiggling and accidental pop of a knuckle. You feel the twitch continuously move through your body, irratating everything until your brain stops at one thought: You have to find that bitch.

You sit up, lighting the lantern and grabbing your backpack. You change out the gear, stuffing in new clothes and ammo. Quietly making your way down stairs, avoiding the creaky boards, you tug your boots on and slip out of the house. You jog over to the neighbor's yard and knock quietly on the door. A sigh of relief escapes your body when the lights flick on.

"(Y/N)?" Charlotte blinks.

"Can I leave Billy with you?" You whisper. You didn't want to leave him; he was so confused about everything, always searching for Joel when you came to pick him up from daycare.

"What's wrong?" She puts her hands on your biceps, a flash of concern in her eyes.

"Something I gotta do. Maria will come and get him around lunch."

She nods slowly, and you could kiss her right now. You bolt back to the house, coming to a screeching halt when a light flashes through the door window. As the deep clomp of boots comes close enough to the door you pop it open and hit whoever is behind it.

"Jesus- It's ME!" Tommy loudly whispers.

"What the fuck are you doin' in my house?" You whisper yell back.

"Looking for you." His one hand gestures to you while the other rubs his forehead.

"Why?" You push past him, walking into the kitchen to grab a bag full of snow from the cooler.

"I'm gunna find her." He states, waiting for you to turn around. "Why are you dressed?" He questions.

"Because I'm going with you." You state, handing him the bag. He sighs, setting it on the counter and gently cupping your face.

"You can't bear." He shakes his head.

"No one puts momma bear in a cage." You meekly smile as silent tears stream down your face.

"You gotta stay here. For Ellie and Billy." He puts his forehead to yours, a tear rolling down his cheek. "They already lost their dad. Can't lose their momma too." he whispers. You wrap your arms around him, squeezing him tight. You can't lose any more of your family, but you know Tommy won't rest until these fuckers are dead.

"Can I at least ride out with you?" You plead. You can feel him pull away, ready to argue. "Like a half day ride, just to see you off." You feel him sigh, relaxing into your embrace.

"Fine. But what about Billy?"

"Charlotte will take him for the day." You reassure him. He slowly lets go, cupping your face one last time before nodding for you to grab your son.

You quickly get him settled at Charlotte's, reassuring her you'll be back by early evening. You and Tommy walk in silence to the barn, gearing up your horses and riding out.

"You sure you want to go out? Maria might kill you." Tommy playfully pokes.

"She will kill me." You scoff. "But... I need to make sure you get a good start." You smile. Tommy nods and mounts his horse. You take a deep breath in, keeping the tears at bay and hop up into the saddle.

The two of you ride hard, past the patrol routes, past where you found Joel and Ellie on their way back to Jackson a couple of years ago. Tommy slows down just as you hit the edge of the valley, hopping off once he's decided it's safe.

"Be safe little brother." You give him a small smile.

"Pretty sure you're the younger one." He chuckles, his arms swallowing you in a hug.

"Come back."

"Always do bear."

_______

"Hey honey bee." You smile, scooping Billy into your arms. "Thanks for watching him." You nod to Charlotte.

"Anytime." She nods. You can tell she wants to ask if you're ok, and you're thankful when she doesn't.

"(Y/N)."

You turn to see Maria standin at your gate.

"Maria." You let out a deep sigh, quickly walking to your own house and letting her in. You set Billy down, who happily runs into the living room and starts pulling out his toys.

"Nothing we could do or say would have stopped him." You turn to her. Joel's jacket is gone...

"He left behind my back. After I said we couldn't spare anyone." She whispers. You can hear the tremble in her voice, the worry. And then her words register.

"You weren't going to send anyone?" Your mouth hangs open, brain trying to rationalize why.

"We're vulnerable. We need everyone here. We need Tommy here." Her voice is sharp, slicing you with each word.

"It would eat him alive," You boom. "He would never forgive himself for not going after her."

"I can't lose him." She whispers. You look at her, and it's like looking in a mirror. The pain, the stress, the abyss that waits for you to fall.

"You can't stop him." You can feel the lump in your throat form, the tears in your eyes threating to spill and never stop.

"I sent the one person who could." She confesses. You frown, the only person who's ever been able to kinda sorta stop him is Joel. And he's gone.

A high pitched noise travels through the house, the sound of your heart hammering in your chest trying to compete with it. You back out of the room, running to the coat rack. You reach for where Joel's jacket should be, but it's gone. The word around you spinning until you feel her hands on your shoulders.

"She was going anyways." Maria sobs.

"No..." You cry out, slumping to the floor.

_______

A Year Later

“Pie!” Billy claps as he looks at the picture of Ellie you have on the side table.

“That’s right honey bee.” You chuckle, handing him the frame. He gives it a big kiss, turning to give you the biggest grin.

“Yel’ow?” Tommy calls into the house.

“Sewin’ room!” You yell down to him. The clomp of his boots echoes up the stairs only stopping once Billy screams in delight.

“Hey booger.” He excitedly yells back, scooping him off the floor.

“Don’t you have some sort of job to do?” You yell over your shoulder.

“Just came to ask how your visit went?” He tickles Billy’s belly, the loudest giggle erupting from his little mouth.

“Really nice. They’ve done a good job with the house, it’s beautiful.” You smile. “Have a good round of crop growing’ too. There’s a head of lettuce in the kitchen if you want to take some.” You turn to see he’s got his patrol gear on. “Where are you goin?” You arch a brow at him.

“Figured I’d go see Ellie. Been a while.” He nods.

“You should have came with us.” You shake your head. He is in no condition to go anywhere alone.

“That’s alright. Been a while since I rode alone.” He gives Billy a smile as his tiny hands slap him in the face.

“You and Maria…” you prod, leaning against your desk next to him.

“Takin some time.”

Oh.

“Well, take the batch of cookies downstairs. Maybe they’ll make it to Ellie.” You poke him in the side as you smile at your son.

“Maybe.” He gives you a smile but there’s no warmth behind it. You knew he and Maria were on rocky footing after him and the kids made it back… but you figured him being alive would trump everything else.

"Be safe. The ride is simple but that don't mean there aren't critters out there." You add. He's hiding something. Only get's that look when he's about to do something stupid.

"I love you, you know that right?" His eyes search yours, although you're not sure what they're searching for.

"I love you too Tommy." You frown. After a moment he nods, putting Billy down.

"Best be off before it gets to dark for these old eyes to see." He pecks you on the cheek, taking one last look at you before making his way out.

_______

A Month Later

“Auntie Dina!” Billy exclaims, lurching in your arms. You whip around to see Dina and little JJ. 

“Dina!” You yell, quickly walking over to her and swallowing her in a hug. “Oh my is that little JJ? You’re so big!” You say in your best baby voice, giving his belly a tickle. “I didn't think you'd be back in town so soon, with the weather being so nice.” You smile until you see the terror in her eyes. “What’s-“

“(Y/N).”

You turn to the voice to see Maria jogging over to you. She shares a look with Dina, before turning to you. Her expression is neutral but there's a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“We need to talk.” You glance once more at Dina, who's suddenly found the floor very interesting.

“Be good for Auntie Dina.” You whisper to Billy, giving him a kiss and setting him down. Maria quickly leads you back to her house, locking the door behind you.

“Maria you’re scaring-“

“Tommy asked Ellie to go after the girl who killed Joel.” She blurts, eyes trained on the floor. You blink a few times, your brain refusing to grasp what she just said. “That’s why Dina came back to Jackson-“

“Where is he?” You interrupt.

"She's already been gone a month." Maria ignores your question.

"A MONTH!" Your jaw hits the floor. How could Tommy keep this to himself for a month. How could Dina...

"Dina hoped she'd come back." Maria sighs.

"Y'all better pray I don't kick each one of your asses." You growl in her ear as you stomp out of the house.

______

“WHAT THE FUCK TOMMY?” You slam the door to his office open.

“(Y/N), just listen-“ He begins to stand, hands held up in surrender.

“LISTEN? You sent Ellie after Abby? What the hell were you thinkin’?” You swat on old glass off the desk, shattering it on the wall. You put your hands on your head, taking a deep breath in. Tommy's your brother, you love him, even if he's a giant fuckin asshole...

“I was thinkin my brother deserved better! His family deserved peace!” He bellows back, sweeping his arm in front of him as if that peace was sat on the desk.

“Peace? We finally started to get past this! I can finally say his damn name without burstin' into tears!” You slam your hands down on the desk.

“He needs to be avenged-“ Tommy carefully states, leaning on the desk opposite of you.

“Avenged? You sent Ellie out for REVENGE YOU ASSHOLE!”

“She made a choice.” He cautiously walks around the desk.

“You should have asked me.” You grit through your teeth, fingers pressing so hard into the desk they're white.

“She’s an adult, she doesn’t need permission.” He gently reminds you, lightly placing his hands on your shoulders.

“She is my daughter. You had no right to ask this of her. She’s been through too much.” You can feel the lump in your throat get bigger, pressuring the tears in your eyes to free fall. “you should have sent me.”

“We both know Ellie’s one of the best trackers and she’s been fine on her patrols-“

“But she doesn’t have Joel! She’s alone out there.” Your voice wobbles, the dark thoughts already prodding and poking at your mind. “I can’t lose her too.” You sob, falling against Tommy's chest.

"She'll come back Bear... she'll come back." He soothes, gently rubbing your back.

_______

A Few Months Later.

Were meetings always this borin? Surely not, Joel would've hated them... You've been sat in the bar for what feels like eons, but has probably only been an hour. It's been too long since Ellie left. Too long since Billy or JJ have laughed from her silly jokes that they don't even understand.

"(Y/N)?"

You turn to see the group starin' at you.

"I'm sure y'all love havin me, but I gotta go." You stand up, grabbing you things and walking out. As you step into the street you take a deep breath in, letting the fresh air fill your lungs, the sun warming your skin.

"Memaw!" JJ happily shouts. You slowly open your eyes to see JJ wiggling away from a very nervous lookin Dina.

"Hey sugar cube." You close the gap between you and scoop JJ into your arms. "You helpin mom get more stuff from the house?" You tickle his belly and he gives you a happy giggle.

"We're actually done movin' our stuff." Dina mumbles.

"Oh, I didn't see you come by. Did you just put Ellie's stuff in her old room?" You cock your head to the side, gently bouncing JJ on your hip.

"Um, no. Her stuff is still at the house." Dina grabs JJ from your arms, ignoring his whine. "It'll be the only thing waiting for her." She turns on her heel and walks quickly away from you.

Shit.

You walk back into the bar, kneeling beside Maria.

"Can you watch Billy for a couple of days?" You whisper. Her eyes shift to you, a small frown appearing.

"Dina left all of Ellie's stuff..." And it might be all I have left of her.

She studies you for a moment, nodding. You clap your hands together and give her a silent thank you.

_______

Dina told Ellie she wouldn't wait for her if she left, but part of her hoped she would have. The house slowly comes into view as Ellie rides closer, dread sitting on her shoulders like a vulture. By the time she can see the tops of the windows she can see a wagon sitting out front, your wagon. The wagon you bring when you and Billy come to visit; the wagon that's always full of everything they didn't know they needed.

The soft nicker of a horse carries over the breeze and Ellie's heart leaps in her chest. She picks up the pace, leaping off her own horse and busting through the front door.

"Dina?" She shouts, eyes feverishly searching the house. A loud thump comes from upstairs. Ellie bolts toward it, wrapping her arms around whoever is crashing into her.

"Ellie." Your voice sounds relived, your embrace around her warming her to the core.

"Momma." The tears are soaking into your shirt as her body sags against yours.

"Oh sugarpie." Your own tears fall into her hair as you gently rock her. "I thought I lost you." You kiss the top of her head.

"Dina? JJ?" She leans back to see the answers in your eyes before you can say them.

"Back in Jackson. She waited for month." You reassure her, nodding furiously in hopes that Ellie knows Dina loves her. She nods and pulls you back to her.

_______

A Few Months Later

"Why you going to far down south?" Tommy shouts from his spot in the couch.

"Coffee." You shout back.

"Seriously?"

"No." You yell in his ear, making him jump. He throws glare, mumbling something about abusing the handicap person. You roll your eyes and plop next to him. "Ok, I'm kinda of goin' for coffee, but Jeremy also has some family that's movin', and I said I would help."

"And what about your children?" He gestures to the space in front of him.

"I think you'll be just fine." You pat his shoulder.

"Ha, very funny." He playfully sneers.

"Dina and Ellie said they'll take Billy." You let out a deep sigh, relaxing into your couch. "And Maria said she'd take you." you feel Tommy bolt upright next to you. "Well, more like you'll take her to dinner." You roll your head to look at him, his eyes flickering between excitement and fear.

"You mean it?" He whispers.

"Ya. Told her you've pulled your head out of your ass and are ready to apologize." You give a pointed look. He furiously nods, jumping off the couch and runnin' home.

_______

"Think that's the last of it." You huff, sitting down on the porch steps.

"I hope so." Jeremy takes a seat next to you. "I need a fuckin' drink." he chuckles. It's not deep like Joel's, it's much more breathy.

"And a good fuck." You add.

"I'll take you town if you take me to bed." he playfully bumps against your shoulder. You've been banting like this for a few months. It wasn't that you hadn't thought about Jeremy that way, the ceiling of your bedroom knew that; but he wasn't Joel. He wasn't the one you really wanted.

"Come on." He gestures for you to follow. You walk into town, Jeremy happily filling the silence with stories about his family.

"Think that's what you're lookin for." He points to a booth that has a few bags of coffee on the table.

"Oooo lord." You mumble, quickly walking over. You talk with the seller about what types they had and how much. After much bargining you settle on a good price. Another customer comes to stand next to you, her eyes scanning each product for sale.

"How long will we be here?" The boy on her other side asks.

"Not too long Lev." She softly tells him. Lev... that's an odd name.

"What brings you by?" The seller asks her as she finishes bagging up your coffee.

"Traveling through." She states. Your heart is racing. Can’t be. You quickly walk back to Jeremy, his face concerned.

"I need you to find out who that girl at the table is." You ask him. He stares at you moment, not sure what the girl is to you, but gives you a curt nod and leads you to the local bar.

_______

"Her name is Abby." He whispers as he sits across from you. You sat in the bar all day, watching as Lev and his friend resupplied for their trip.

"She's a firefly." He states, waving to the bartender. You sit in silce, letting every single memory with every single emotion attached to them flow through you.

"You know her." Jeremy observes from your silence. You're practically buzzing in your seat.

"She killed Joel. Jesse. Nearly killed Ellie, Tommy and Dina." You grit through your teeth. It's taking every ounce of will power not to run up to her and beat the shit out her.

"And the kid?"

"Seraphite."

Jeremy nods, downing his drink as he stands up.

"Stay here." He whispers, kissing your forehead. You do as he says, sitting for what feels like hours until he sits back in front of you. Your eyes shift to his face, which is covered in dirt. He waves to the bartender not looking at you until he throws back a drink.

"She'll never hurt your family again." He states. Your mind picks apart his words, taking in all the information that's packed behind it. You can feel the heat rise in the room, your breath quickening. You slump back into you chair, hand coming to your mouth as tears silently fall down your face.

It's over.

[percywinchester27]

Hey! I just finished reading Stroke of Luck and I absolutely love it! I can't wait to read all of your other stories! I'm new and I was wondering if you could suggest some blogs for me to follow:)

Really? Thank you so much! I hope you keep liking the other stories too! :) You are very sweet!

About blogs to follow... Writing blogs off the top of my head-

@sdavid09 @grace-for-sale @kas-not-cas @supernatural-jackles@thing-you-do-with-that-thing @blacktithe7 @torn-and-frayed @bringmesomepie56  @mrs-squirrel-chester @mrswhozeewhatsis @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @deanssweetheart23 @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @ilostmyshoe-79 @nichelle-my-belle @tankcupcakes @mysupernaturalfics @melonshino @jotink78 @littlegreenplasticsoldier @imagineteamfreewill @iwantthedean @ravengirl94@thegreatficmaster @plaidstiel-wormstache @kittenofdoomage @winchesterprincessbride @trexrambling (I’m sure I’m forgetting someone very important here...)

[wheresarizona-writes]

Tag list:

@thelightnessofthebeing @emisprocrastinating @bluestuesday y @joelmillerlvr r @avengersfan25 @darknessbyme @iceclaw101 @alwaysdjarin @downbads-world @therealcap @voteforpedro09 @love-the-abyss @hawsx3 @fettuccin-e @xocalliexo @chaoticevilbakugo @weasleywinchester @lalalalemonade11 @lflores2008 @alitaar @the-queen-of-fools @misspascalpunk @ryebreadsworld @doodlebob-mp3 @majestyjade @purplerain44 @pedropascalsspeedooooo @silkiers @freightcarcap p @winwin70 @soupinasock @tmiranda94 @morgaussy @wanderlustnightwanderer r @notsosecretspy y @fleetsonfire @ievutebebe @mandoloriancookie @beee-haw @pedropascalfan221 @lovebandrry y @its-nebuleuse @chiyo13 @vee-bees-blog @saguchiya @ilovepedro @fierce-bab @wargel @kchavez666 @handspunyarns

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 Fältskog sang with feeling about how she never thought she’d love again, but the right person has come along now and brought back the feeling.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really fucking love you, too.” 

The song’s chorus played:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You love ABBA.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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) E 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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Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

[quiddy-writes]

Can I please be added to your Supernatural tag list ?

Of course you can! Just be aware that my “Supernatural tag list” is basically just my Sam and Dean lists. 

[ravengirl94]

I don't remember if I've asked or not but can I please be added to your taglist? Absolutely love your writing!

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Stardust Reblog Challenge Sept 19th

Somehow I could not add to my Masterlist, so I am adding here to the second one for this challenge

Sun and Rain, Hunter x F! O.C by: @photogirl894 NSFW

19th:

Echo: Sweet Love, Echo x Virgin F!Reader by: @zoeykallus NSFW

TBB HC`s - Playing Trustfall by: @zoeykallus SFW

Clone Trooper Rambles: Haircut by @wanderinginksplot SFW

Notes on Tutoring Chap. 31, Dave York x F!Reader by: @honestly-shite NSFW

Falling for You, TBB x GN!Reader by: @nahoney22 SFW

Relaxing, Quality Time, Fox x GN!Reader by: @zoeykallus SFW

TBB x Reader HC`s Regain Trust After Order 66 by: @zoeykallus SFW

Echo - There for you 22, Things left unsaid Echo x F!Reader by: @zoeykallus SFW

Walk me Home: Prologue by: @cyarbika SFW ( this is the next part to No Strings Attached people !!!!!!! )

TBB x F!Reader - Bra-less Comfort by: @zoeykallus Slightly NSFW

20th:

Kindred Chapter 1, Hunter x F!O.C by: @clonecyaree SFW

In Perfect Light Chapter 31, Crosshair x F!Reader by: @interstellarwraith SFW

TBB, Rex and Cody x F!Reader, The Savior and the Hostage by: @zoeykallus SFW

Barista to Sugar Baby, Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader by: @absurdthirst and co written by: @storiesofthefandomlovers NSFW

Only Room in the Inn, Pero Tovar x F!Reader by: @absurdthirst co written by @storiesofthefandomlovers

21st:

Sun and Rain Chapter 52, Hunter x Kimber ( F!OC ) by: @photogirl894 SFW

22nd:

Hunter: Dirty Little Thief 13 by @zoeykallus SFW

Wiggle Room, Tech x F!Reader by: @tech-deck NSFW

26th:

Gar Cyare Chapter 3 by: @wanderinginksplot SFW

Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken {Oberyn Martell x F!Reader x Pero Tovar} by: @absurdthirst NSFW

Wild Abandon Chapter 10, Ezra x F!Reader by: @starlightmornings NSFW

In Perfect Light Chapter 32, Crosshair x F!Reader by: @interstellarwraith SFW

Ask for me Again, Cassian Andor x F!Reader by: @princessxkenobi NSFW

Deserve, Marc Specter x F!Reader (implied Steven Grant x F!Reader ) by: @softlybarnes NSFW

Walk me Home Chapter 1, Wolffe x Cherise (OFC) by: @cyarbika SFW

27th:

Little Secrets, Tech x F!Reader by: @zoeykallus SFW

Insights and Glimpses, TBB x F!Reader by: @zoeykallus SFW ( some little suggestive thingies )

I need your Help, TBB x Depressed Reader HC`s by: @zoeykallus SFW

Wedding Night, TBB, Howzer x F!Reader HC`s by: @zoeykallus NSFW

Hot Blood, Cassian Andor x Curby F!Reader by: @weasleywinchester NSFW

The Reunion, TBB and many others X F!OC`s by: @imabeautifulbutterfly SFW

28th:

My Sweet Traitor, Imp!Crosshair x F!Reader by: @zoeykallus SFW

I`ve got so much love for you, Fives x Virgin F!Reader by: @zoeykallus NSFWish

Memories Lost and Found, TBB/Wolffe and Fox x F!Reader by: @zoeykallus SFW

Cold Hands, TBB x Reader HC`s by: @zoeykallus SFW ( partly suggestive )

Stay Close VI, modern!Pero Tovar x F!Reader by: @ezrasbirdie NSFW

29th:

TBB x F!Reader HC`s, Hiding your pregnancy from them by: @zoeykallus SFW

Bloodlust part 7, Din Djarin x F!Reader by: @dindjarindiaries NSFW

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Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 3 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley is feeling very nostalgic after spending the night with you in his arms. He suggests a visit to the library, and you suggest he joins you for a second sleepover. 

Warnings: Smut, fluff, swears, and angst

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

You were so warm and comfortable. You were never this cozy when you woke up alone in your bed. You cracked your eyes open, and the first thing you saw was an arm wrapped around you from behind. Then you heard soft breathing and felt the arm tighten around you as you shifted a bit. 

"Morning, Sugar." You melted back against Bradley as his mustache brushed the back of your neck. 

His fingers gently stroked along your chest and tummy through the fabric of his tee shirt. Even through your warm haze, you felt goosebumps tingling your skin as your legs tangled with his. 

And he was hard. Already hard for you. Ready if you wanted him. And you really, really wanted him. 

"Beer Boy," you whispered, and you were welcomed with a soft groan next to your ear as he pressed his length against the back of your thigh. He let you take his hand in yours, and you guided it lower until he was touching the bare skin below your belly button. You pushed his hand down to your bare pussy and into your wetness. 

You let him tease you for a minute, and he expertly got you so wet, you felt warm thinking about the spot you left on his pants last night. His lips felt too good on your pulse point, sucking enough to leave you short of breath. 

You rolled over in his arms so you were facing him, and he was impossibly handsome in his still sleepy state with his hair a mess. 

"Hi," you whispered, and he grinned briefly before your lips collided with his. He rolled onto his back with you clinging to him, and he welcomed you above his body like you belonged there. The prickle of his mustache against your upper lip was addicting, and you kissed him over and over, going back for more. 

When you paused to slip your leg around his waist and straddle him, he whispered, "Hi." This time you were the one grinning as you ran your fingers through his beautiful hair. He was looking up at you like he would let you do anything you wanted to him. Like you were in charge. 

So you kissed him gently this time, tasting his lips and his tongue and running your thumb along all of his scars. They had faded so much over time, but the pattern was still perfectly ingrained in your mind. You remembered him telling you how he got these scars, what he had done for his friend. You shivered as you thought that at one time, he would have been willing to do something like that for you.

You released his lips, but he used his big hand at the back of your neck to guide you back to him. You smiled against his lips as you wiggled your pussy along his solid abs, his hard cock tapping against your butt with every movement. 

"I had it so good," you told him when you both needed to catch your breath.

"I'm right here." His eyes were bright and sincere as he longingly gazed up at you, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb.

You kissed his thumb and then the palm of his hand. "Yeah... but you used to be mine."

"Sugar," he groaned as you guided yourself a little lower until you were rubbing your slick entrance along his length. "Tell me what you want," he rasped next to your ear. "I want to hear you say it."

You moaned as you said, "I want you to kiss me until I sound stupid and touch me until I sound so fucking dumb."

His hands were under the tee shirt, guiding it gently over your head. You shook with anticipation as his lips wrapped around one taut nipple, tossing the shirt to the floor. With his hands on your hips, he guided you to his cock, and you let him push past your entrance, slowly filling you up. 

"I was thinking," he muttered while his wet lips made your nipple hard. "Sugar, we should visit the library later."

You whined so loudly as you vigorously nodded your head. "Yes! Please," you begged, riding his cock slowly. "Please, take me there."

He sucked hard on your nipples, keeping your pace steady with his hands at your waist. "You gonna spend the whole weekend with me, smart girl? Making love like this?"

You were already close, nodding for him, because you could barely speak. When he started slamming his hips up against you, fucking you harder, you came with nonsensical words all over your lips. And he filled you up with his cum again, just like last night. 

As you collapsed on top of him and came down from your wave of euphoria, you recognized this for what it was. It really did feel like you were making love to him. It had always felt like more than fucking. 

And now, as he stroked your back with his long fingers, you were thinking about the last words you said to him before you left him at his frat house and moved to Chicago. 

I love you, Beer Boy.

But Bradley hadn't mentioned it at all last night or so far this morning. Maybe he had never heard you speak them. That thought made you inexplicably sad. 

"Wanna get breakfast?" he asked softly against your hair. 

You just nodded against his neck and peeled yourself off him. "I know a cute restaurant, if you want to try it out."

He looked at you with those soft brown eyes and smiled. "I'll go anywhere you take me today, Sugar."

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

Bradley watched his cum coat your pussy and inner thighs as you stood up and suggested a restaurant that you liked for brunch. You shifted weight from one foot to the other, and he stretched out on the pillow with his hands tucked behind his head. He could just lie here and look at you all day, but brunch with you did sound nice. 

"And...." you started, biting your lip nervously.

"Sugar. Didn't I already tell you? Don't hesitate with me. Tell me what's on your mind."

You leaned down to kiss him briefly. "Do you want to check out of the hotel and come stay at my house tonight?"

His heart was pounding as you pulled your mouth away from his and looked at him hesitantly. Another broken heart was probably inevitable at this point, but he couldn't stop himself. 

"Yeah. I want that."

"Okay," you said with a small smile. "I'm going to shower quickly, and then get changed into my dress from last night with no underwear and absolutely no shame, and then we can get food."

Bradley laughed as he watched you dash into the bathroom. He took a few deep breaths as he heard you turn on the shower. He got out of bed and cleaned himself up again. The room was trashed, and he'd always been a bit of a clean freak. Without stepping on the broken lamp, he stacked the pizza box and other trash on the desk. Then he picked up all the discarded clothing and started to organize his suitcase. 

When you stepped out of the bathroom, still naked, he handed your dress to you before kissing your forehead and using the bathroom himself. 

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

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, putting your shoes on, when Bradley's luggage tag caught your eye. At first it startled you that you would have recognized his handwriting anywhere. You could still easily picture 'SUGAR what's your number?' written on his pristine bedroom door. 

But it was his actual address written in that tidy penmanship that had you scrambling to get a closer look. 

San Diego. Bradley lived in San Diego. You'd mentioned you were looking at San Diego State, and he had said nothing. He had even brought it up again last night, listening to you go on and on about your Miami versus San Diego debate. But he had said nothing other than mentioning he lived on the west coast. 

Your stomach felt uneasy now. Wouldn't he want you to know that? Didn't he understand that would probably make your choice between the two jobs a lot easier? 

Unless he wasn't feeling the same way you were right now. God, your heart would break if you told him you wanted to move to San Diego and be with him, only to hear him say he wasn't interested in that idea. 

As he strolled out of the bathroom, you dropped the tag from your fingers and turned to look at him. He looked fantastic. He looked like everything you'd ever wanted. 

"This okay for brunch?" he asked, looking down at his worn jeans and gray golf shirt. "I didn't bring anything too nice, other than my suit for tonight. And you're looking hot in that dress again."

You grinned. "You look good, Beer Boy. And I'm literally wearing last night's wrinkly dress that you gave me head in."

He swallowed hard and looked at you with those soft eyes again. "Yeah... without any underwear."

So he was interested in sex. Okay, you could try to reel it in a bit. See how that worked out for you. 

"You ready to go?" you asked softly, and Bradley gathered up his bags before taking your hand and leading you toward the elevator. 

Oh, the kisses. They were soft, unhurried, and perfect as you rode the few floors down to the lobby. And your hand felt tiny and protected in his as he led you to the front desk.

"Hi, I'm going to be checking out early," he told the woman at the desk, kissing the back of your hand before releasing it to get his wallet out. 

"Is everything okay, sir?" she asked politely, eyes sliding between yours and Bradley's. 

"Perfect, actually," he said smoothly. "But my girl and I accidentally broke the lamp. So sorry. Can you just charge it to my card?" he asked, handing over his credit card and grinning at you. 

My girl. You buried your face against his bicep and listened to the hotel employee clear her throat. 

"No problem, sir," she told him, and Bradley was still grinning when you looked up at him. You probably wouldn't even make it through brunch. He'd made you feel so good last night and this morning, and he was seriously messing with your heart now. 

"Let's go, Sugar," Bradley told you, leading you outside where his rental car was waiting for him at the valet stand. You followed him. You'd follow him anywhere right now. 

You gave him directions to the restaurant, and you realized this was your first time in a car with him. He was a very good driver. "Park over there," you told him, and he pulled into a lot. You watched him jog around the car and open your door for you and take your hand. 

You naturally laced your fingers with his and led him inside where it smelled like coffee, bacon and cinnamon rolls. "I'm starving," he groaned, wrapping his arm around your waist as you waited to be seated. "You're wearing me out. I'm ordering everything."

You laughed. "You used to eat a ton ten years ago, too."

"Yeah, but I can afford real food now. Not just cereal and strawberries."

"I liked the cereal and strawberries," you whispered as the hostess led you to a small table, and you felt Bradley's fingers tighten on your waist before he pulled out your chair for you.

Bradley waited until you were alone with your menus before he said, "I liked the s'mores too, Sugar." 

You gazed at his handsome face over your menu, and your mind drifted to the spring break you spent with him alone at his frat house. It had been the most perfect week, listening to music, eating s'mores in the kitchen, and having sex. You wondered, not for the first time, if he still had those dirty photos saved somewhere. "Me too."

He hadn't been lying. You listened to Bradley order a ton of food for brunch compared to your stack of pancakes. 

"I was going to say this is my treat, but now I'm second guessing exactly how much this bill is going to be," you told him after the waiter delivered two coffees. 

Bradley barked out a laugh. "Yeah, no way. Nobody should have to pay for my food except me. It's my treat, Sugar."

You watched him take his phone out of his pocket and set it screen side down next to your clutch. It had a cool phone case that looked like yellow, red and black graffiti. "Rooster?" you asked, reading the single word on the case.

He looked up expectantly. "Yeah, Sugar?"

You pointed to his phone in confusion. "It says Rooster."

He just nodded. "Oh, yeah, that's my call sign." He took another small sip of his hot coffee. 

"Oh! I hadn't even thought to ask!" You hummed, considering how it sounded when you said it. "Rooster. Rooster. I like it, but you know... Roosters are flightless birds. And you're an aviator."

Bradley was holding back his laughter as he said, "Yes, I know."

"Was Beer Boy already taken?" you asked with a smirk, stirring some cream into your coffee.

He did laugh this time. "I doubt it, but you're the only one allowed to call me that."

You felt warm inside, and not just from the first sip of your coffee. 

"Nat got me the phone case for my birthday," he told you. "I thought it was pretty cool. She has a matching one with her call sign on it."

You just looked at him for a beat. "A girl got you a phone case with your call sign? And your call sign is Rooster? Is that because of your big cock?"

Bradley choked on his sip of coffee, and you started giggling. You were kind of feeling like you didn't like this Natasha Phoenix girl too much, but the look on Bradley's face had you smiling again.

"No!" he said, after wiping his mouth with his napkin. "It's not like that at all! My dad's call sign was Goose, and Rooster felt similar. Related, kind of. It just sort of stuck."

"Oh! I like that."

"Yeah, and Nat and I?" he asked, eyeing you closely. "Nah, we've never so much as touched each other. Unless you include her smacking me when I say something stupid."

So you'd been obvious in your feelings about his friend. You were a little embarrassed. You swallowed hard, and just rolled your eyes. "Well, I'm sure you didn't have any trouble finding girls in flight school. They were probably lining up to keep you warm on those cold, Rhode Island winter nights."

Bradley had a concerned look on his face as he set down his mug of coffee. He opened his mouth twice before he finally spoke. "Sugar. I don't think you fully appreciate how much you changed me. Or... I guess, how much you made me want to change. To be better for you."

Now you were gaping at him. His brow was creased, and he looked down at his coffee mug as he took a deep breath. 

"I was different after you broke up with me," he said, meeting your eyes again. "And I didn't go back to hooking up. I swear. I didn't like the person I was before I painted my door and started over again with you."

"Bradley," you whispered. Sitting here with him, sipping coffee in his presence, was just so surreal. You thought about him a lot, but you always blocked out the possibility that he was sleeping around. Hell, you blocked out the idea of him with anyone else at all. It hurt too much to think about. 

"I dated four women in the past ten years. I had four sexual partners in the past ten years. Do the math, Sugar. It's your specialty," he said with a tight smile. 

"Really? No more hooking up?" you asked softly. He stretched his legs out under the table and bracketed yours in. 

"You taught me to look for quality over quantity. An important lesson. So, thank you for that."

You had the urge to fling yourself into his lap and never leave. You were about to reach across the table and start making out with him when your waiter arrived with plate after plate of food. Bradley kept his eyes on you while the food piled up in front of him, and you broke out into a grin that he matched. 

"Are you going to help me eat all of this?" he asked, laughing as he looked at the single stack of three pancakes you had ordered. 

You muttered, "You're on your own, Beer Boy," before you stole a bite of a cinnamon roll and a piece of bacon. 

"So tell me more about Chicago. Did you love it?" he asked, cutting into a gigantic waffle. "How was the giant bean?"

You sucked in a breath. Bradley eyed you with interest when you didn't answer right away. "I... well, I never went to see the bean."

"You never went to see the bean?" he asked, looking alarmed. "Are you actually allowed to say you lived in Chicago if you never visited the giant bean?"

You bit your lip; it was better to just tell him and get it over with. "I never went to the bean. Because I promised you I wouldn't go without you."

His expression went soft. "Sugar. You didn't have to hold yourself to that. You didn't have to... limit yourself because of me."

You thought about your Grateful Dead tattoo. You thought about how you never went to the bean. You thought about how you never really let yourself fall in love with the deep dish pizzas, because you weren't sharing them with him. It all seemed silly just a few days ago. But now? Now that Bradley was here with you, all these things you did seemed important again. Relevant. Fateful.

You scrambled to change the subject. "The winters were horrible though. Truly miserable. Would not recommend being there in January." Bradley chuckled as you said, "And actually, the summers were kind of miserably hot. Sort of makes me want to rule out Miami." 

His eyes flicked up from his waffle so fast, you almost laughed. "So that would leave San Diego?" he asked softly. 

You licked some syrup from the corner of your mouth, still wondering why he hadn't given you the real answer as to where he lives. 

"I'm still going to visit both schools. But if it comes down to it, I'd probably go with the San Andreas Fault over perpetual hurricanes."

"Good choice," he told you, kind of smiling as he ate his enormous breakfast.

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

Bradley's head was swimming as he handed his credit card to the waiter and moved your little purse before you could try to leave the tip. Everything felt like a mystery he was trying to solve, but he didn't seem to have all the information. 

You had a tattoo of the lyrics he used to sing to you. You never went to see the giant bean. You were talking about San Diego. You were working at UVA. You were at the same bar as him last night. You had once upon a time loved him.

He felt lost in you as you slipped your hand into his and walked back to his rental car. 

"Still feel like visiting the library?" you asked, looking up at him. 

You were interested in another round of sex with him. He was interested in having sex with you, too, but he was also interested in more than that.

"Yeah," he managed to say. He couldn't deny himself this weekend with you, even if this was all he'd ever get to have. It felt like a gift. 

You pressed up onto your tiptoes and kissed him, licking his lip with the tip of your tongue as he groaned. You tasted like coffee and maple syrup. And he was still in love with you. 

Then you were pulling him toward the car. "Let's go, Beer Boy."

He parked next to the library, and you were pulling your faculty ID card out of your purse. 

"Remember the ancient librarian? Who knew us by name?" he asked as you walked down the sidewalk hand in hand.

"You really are feeling nostalgic, huh?" you said with a laugh. 

He was. He really was. It felt like ten days had passed, not ten years. 

Bradley did a double take upon entering the library and finding the same librarian was still there. You held up your ID card, and she greeted you as Professor with a smile. Then she turned to Bradley with a look of surprise, and he grinned at her. 

"It's nice to see you again," he told her with a wave as you pulled him through to the stacks. 

The library was nearly deserted as Bradley chased after you as you looped through some of the dark shelves on the way to the study rooms. 

"I can't believe she still works here!" he whispered, but you turned and looked at him over your shoulder with a smile and ran a little faster. 

When you got to the row of study rooms, he caught up to you and wrapped his arms around you from behind. 

You were laughing softly as you caught your breath. "Do you remember which study room it was, Beer Boy?" you ask him as he kissed your neck. 

"Is that a serious question? Of course I remember, Sugar," he mumbled next to your ear, gently guiding you forward to the room second from the end. "It's ingrained in my mind."

You pulled the door open and flipped on the light, and Bradley felt like he had taken a time machine back to the best moments of his adult life. You were spinning in his arms, turning to face him as he kicked the door closed.

"I never thought I'd get to do this again," he groaned as he guided you back against the door. "God, I loved being in here with you."

You moaned as he pressed himself against you, so pliant in his hands. "I loved it too, Bradley," you managed between kisses that were somehow both sweet and hot. 

He guided both hands under your dress, hissing at the feel of your bare ass and pussy against his fingers. He could picture your cum soaked underwear from last night on the top of his clothing folded up in his suitcase. Now that he was given another chance to defile the library with you, he was going to make his cum drip down your legs.

"I'm gonna get you off so good," he promised, rubbing his mustache against your neck as your head tipped back against the door with a soft thud. 

"I know you will. You're the best," you whined, bucking against his hand when he teased your clit. Within seconds, you were begging. "Please, Bradley. Please."

So he slipped a finger inside you, and you started to move your hips along with his hand. "You always did like my fingers. Here. At the movie theater. In your kitchen."

When he added a second finger, you were babbling and moaning. 

"You're already close? God, you sound so dumb, Sugar," he told you with a grin when you met his eyes. You were shaking your head slightly, lips parted, gasping for breath. He had your dress pulled up around your waist while he finger fucked your bare pussy. Your legs were shaking as you pushed your fingers up into his hair. 

He felt as possessive of you as he had when you were both just twenty one. He withdrew his fingers and licked them clean while you watched, clenching your thighs together. 

He grabbed a chair and rammed it under the doorknob before grabbing another one and sitting down in it. He sat right in front of you with his thighs spread and coaxed you toward him with his index finger. 

"Come here, Professor Sugar," he told you. You already looked a little crazed and fucked out as you pushed away from the door and took a shaky step toward him. Bradley hiked your dress up as you sat down straddling his lap, and your lips were on his instantly. 

You kissed him slowly and sweetly as you pressed your pussy against the rough front of his jeans. He swallowed your sigh as you started to swirl your hips against him, easing yourself down to rub against his hard cock through the denim. Your head tipped away from him as you whined. 

It was just like your very first encounter here ten years ago, and Bradley growled with need. "You ever bring anyone else here with you?" he asked, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your ass.

You squeezed his shoulders a little tighter and your eyelids fluttered open to look at him as you started to shake. "No."

He used his other hand to grab your chin and force you to look at him. Your eyes were wild with need. "Study rooms are just for me," he said forcefully as you got yourself closer, rubbing your clit against his pants. "Nobody else. That does for your new job in San Diego or Miami, too. Understand?"

"Yes!" you moaned, stroking his scars and looking at him like you'd do anything he told you. 

He rubbed along your bottom lip with his thumb. "Everytime you see a library, I want you to think about how good I can make you feel."

"Bradley!" you cried as you came, and he dug his hands into your flesh, harder and harder. He smacked your ass one time before he hauled you out of the chair and bent you over the table, barely giving you a chance to get your footing before he was unzipping his jeans. 

You'd left another wet spot. He couldn't fathom at the moment how he'd gone ten years without you. It felt like he had accomplished the impossible. But he was certain he never wanted to do it again. 

Bradley listened to your little gasps and whining sounds as you came down from your orgasm. He pushed you down on the table until your cheek was pressed against the wood, your ass and pussy on display for him as he shoved your dress up to your waist. 

He ran his hands along your soft skin, his hard cock hanging out of his pants twitching in anticipation. "I've thought about this more times than I should have, Sugar. I've thought about you a lot," he whispered, bending to kiss your cheek and your ear as he rubbed himself against your pussy. 

"Beer Boy," you whispered with a smile, reaching back to take his hand. 

"This is better than my memories," he swore, pushing his length inside you.

You were holding his hand against the table next to your face and whining as he fucked you. "Bradley, do what you want with me. Make me yours again."

He wanted that. He really wanted that. 

He was so turned on by you and the feel of your lips pressing against his hand. "Oh, Sugar," he hissed as he fucked you hard, bumping the table a few inches across the floor. That's what he wanted. He wanted you to be his. 

When you arched your back, you took him even deeper, and Bradley could feel your pussy fluttering and clenching around his cock. You were moaning nonsense while you kissed and licked his hand, and you came a second time for him. 

Bradley filled you with his cum, immediately pulling you up to stand against his body. He wrapped his arms around the front of you, stroking your chest and belly through your dress as he let his chin rest on your shoulder. 

Bradley rubbed his nose along your cheek. Everything he thought about saying to you felt insubstantial, so he just remained quiet. You didn't say anything either. Instead you eased his cock out of your pussy and spun to face him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, placing kiss after sweet kiss to his lips and mustache. 

As you stroked your fingers through his hair and looked at him with so many unspoken feelings behind your gaze, Bradley felt his heart clench for you. 

When you finally spoke, your voice was soft and comforting as you smiled. "I got your pants wet again."

Bradley barked out a laugh. "That's okay, Sugar. I'll wear it like a badge of honor. In fact, I'd love to get you grinding on me in my uniform."

You bit your lip, eyes half lidded as you nodded at him. "That sounds so hot," you whispered. 

He wanted to tell you he could make that happen. He wanted to tell you he would love to be your boyfriend again. But he couldn't do that yet.

You tugged on his hand and said, "Let's go to my house, Beer Boy. Let's get ready for this reunion."

When you led the way out of the study room, fingers loosely linked with his, Bradley watched his cum drip down your thighs to your knees. As far as he was concerned, his reunion with you was the only one that really mattered. 

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

You knew I was going to let them revisit the study room... Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls (The cover banner is the Jon Langston album cover!)

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