#why did I think of those little things on a potato

[muntitled]

Playtime

Pairing: Nam-gyu x fem!reader

Summary: You weren't ready to kill anyone in Hide And Seek, thank God he's there to help

Warnings: Language, Blood, Gore, Violence, Religious Trauma, Murder, Mentions of Rape Dark Fic, Smut (+18, mdni), Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dub/Con, PiV, Rough Sex, Blood Play, Ingesting Bodily Fluids, Dom!Namgyu, Sub!Reader, Mutual Masturbation, Spitting, Dirty Talk

A/n: I'm not responsible for the media you consume

Nam-gyu could taste colours.

He's quite sure that if he jumped off a high enough ledge, he'd fly.

Ever since they entered the gameroom with its low ceiling and labrinth streets, he's been on a bender unlike any other. A bender he's struggling to enjoy in its entirety because something almost akin to a conscience has been niggling away at him ever since he ran into you during Hide and Seek.

He was straddling a corpse, playing in its blood while Myung-gi called for him to hurry up.

You'd run into the same alley. You and your frightened eyes and your red vest clean of blood. He'd been smiling but that's because his face couldn't conjure up any other expression even if he tried.

And he did try.

He tried stepping towards you. Only to show you how to properly hold that knife you carried with such uncertainty.

But you'd already fled.

He knew you didn't have it in you to kill anyone.

That's why he was doing this. He was a good boyfriend.

"I don't get why we can't just kill it" Myung-gi watches with displeased eyes as Nam-gyu drags the living body of a middle aged man through the

He's stalling their movements significantly trying to pull the man whose own legs have no use for him now. Nam-Gyu made sure they weren't working. He made sure the man could not run. But he also made sure the man wasn't dead.

Nam-gyu's still twitchy, from the pills and from all the blood. It could've been so easy to stick another knife inside a hot body- it would've been way more fun. But then he thought of you. Your wide eyed gaze. Your trembling hand around the whimsical dagger.

That's when he stopped himself. That's when he whispered, to the frightened old man in the blue vest, “I'm not gonna be the one to do it,”

He could've killed this man. He could have watched the knife sink right through his blue vest.

He giggles to himself. Thinking about those corpses and their doll-like eyes. Their comatose little bodies. The fear. The peace.

"Thing is," he's speaking without noticing he's speaking. Nam-gyu drags the man through the ground like he's lugging a sack of potatoes. Like they don't have 15 minutes left in the game.

The man is either infuriatingly heavy or Nam-gyu's too high- it's proving to be a Herculean task even with his two hands on the collar of the old man's shirt. Myung-gi doesnt slow down his very serious gait but he cranes his ear back. "I kinda... like," Nam-gyu giggles to himself, still trying to find the space between reason and hallucination, "I kinda fucked things with my girl when I-" he rolls his eyes, "killed that bitch Se-mi," he groans as he pulls the man closer to an already open door. A dead end. "So now I kinda have to make up for that. You're in love too, you get it."

"You dont know what love is," says Myung-gi and before Nam-gyu enters the dead end door he looks at the man, chest rising snd falling from all that heavy lefiting. "Why would you say something so hurtful- and so true?"

"Why are we stopping here-"

"Tonight I'm gonna need her." Nam-gyu says, kicking the metal door further open to reveal you cowering in the corner of a dimly lit room. Dragon flies are painted across the wall and yet you're crouched like a shy little beetle in the corner. Nam-gyu nearly stops himself from cooing.

"I get antsy at night." He says, turning back to Myung-gi who regards you with a pitiful gaze. "Im so sick of jerking off-"

"Stop talking."

"I needed to get her a gift." Nam-gyu gestures wildly at the old man he's lugged across the streets, the man with wild eyes and broken legs.

He drops the man's collar and the blue vest's head hits the ground with a loud thud.

Nam-gyu's already walking towards you in the corner.

"Here, babe, I've brought you a gift-"

You're out of it. Spiraling. Cradling your legs. Trying to tell yourself this was never supposed to be about hurting others. It was only supposed to be about surviving. And now, here you were, face-to-face with the very reason you're in these games anyway.

"What am I supposed to do with him, Nam-gyu."

"Isn't it obvious?" He crouches down in front of you. Over Nam-gyu's shoulder, you notice his accomplice, player 333 looking immeasurably ill.

"Kill him, silly," as soon as Nam-gyu's words drop, Player 333 steps out of the room, murmuring lowly under his breath. Soon its just you, an old man pleading for his life and Nam-gyu.

You're shaking your head when your eyes meet that of the man you're supposed to kill.

Round.

Wide.

His fight or flight activated and going crazy. Someone who's prepared themselves for their own impromptu death.

Nam-gyu, still crouching in front of you, drags your face back to him by the tip of his finger.

He's blood soaked and crazy but familiar. His presence grounds you.

"I'd rather they gun me down-" the words dont leave your mouth before hes clamping your mouth shut with his hand. His mood is like a switch. Gone is his smile.

"Dont do that." He says, "babe, don't do that- I fucking killed that bitch, Se-mi, now you wanna suffer the same fate?"

Your words are muffled through his mouth but your tears spill over his hands "We're all going to hell anywayI-" your mind is flooded with Bible verses. Church sermons. All of them from your childhood. All of them condemning you. They're kickstarting a wave of panic and regret and shame and you're falling. You're drowning.

"Babe," he cradles your face once more, his thumbs drifting over yojr tear streaked cheeks, "Hell? We're already here. This is it, okay? I'm just gonna need you to be a big girl and do this one big thing for me." You look over his shoulder and you see the man's eyes, pleading. He could've tried to crawl to the door. He could've tried. But he's smart enough to know when he's right between the predator's jaws."

"What did you have out there, Princess? Hm?" Nam-gyu's still cradling your face like a baby. His bloodshot eyes are still gazing down at you like you hung the moon. His hands are trembling and he's leaving blood on your cheeks but you listen.

"A junkie boyfriend who left me in crippling debt?" You ask,

"Ok, I deserved that-"

You've avoided Nam-gyu since the lights out massacre. Since he lost himself to this place. And now, here you were, needing reassurance from the worst possible voice of reason. His eyes tracked your movements ever since hide and seek began. It was almost like a mirror of when you two were dating outside the games. The only difference is, he had been the liability then, with the shifty eyes, you'd save him...

This time he promised he'd save you.

"But you forgot something," he leans in closer until his lips graze your ear. For once you're feeling something other than fear. Other than existential doom. When he whispers his next words, gone is all hope for your humanity.

"That asshole who raped you," his voice is gentle, "Made you loose your job? I killed him."

Your brows furrow and you try to pull back but he's smelling your hair now, patting down on your braids like you mean something to him. Like you're a thing he's enjoying playing with.

"You what?"

"Yeah babe, you think I'd let him rape you and get you fired? I was a shit boyfriend, yes. But I loved you out there, and I love you in he-"

In between his words that resurrected all the ghosts of the outside world, everything that landed you in this hell in the first place, you'd detangled yourself from his limbs. By the time Nam-gyu finished his confession- about the disappearance of your boss right after you lost your job- your knife was already digging clean through the blue players vest, already unwrapping Nam-gyu's little present.

Just one kill and it saved you from yet another game.

You're out of it

Unable to look away.

The world is still.

The knife feels stable, like it's being held between two boulders.

You now know what it feels like to kill someone but before you can really drown in it, you hear his voice boom behind you

“Jesus fuck! That was so hot, did you see its eyes?!” He's pacing on unsteady feet across the room,” biting at his fingernails before crouching down beside you.

“Babe you need to see its eyes when you do it, that's the best part fuck-” you watch with wide eyes as something foreign overtakes Nam-gyu's entire being. You'd only seen him like this one other time. The lights out massacre. When he stabbed that girl over and over.

Now he's trying to open the eyelids of a corpse, as if you weren't sitting there.

“Fuck, he's already gone,” hes slapping at the corpses cheek but yku look down at your blood soaked hands bleeding heavily.

“It's okay,” he says, speaking louder than he needs to, “It's okay, Princess, we'll get another one-” You're about to protest but he's already standing up, dragging you off the floor in the process. His hands are cold and trembling in yours.

His lips are dry and warm as they pepper kisses all over your face.

“Which means-” more and more kisses- and maybe even a lick- “we have ro be really quick yeah?”

“Quick with what-”

He's already pulling his pants down far enough to pull himself out and your eyes widen as you step back. His pupils are blown. Two obsidian orbs, like the death in the room was another pill to him

“Y-You wanna have sex now?” You gesture wildly, “Here?”

He steps closer until he's completely made your personal space, his own. You turn your head away but he's breathing right against your cheek, plastering his body to you, “I need to fuck you,”

“Gyu-” he's twitchy and his words are slurred, and he's grinding against you with the urgency of a desperate man.

“Please-” he pushes your hair away messily, kissing up the side of your neck, “Play with me just for a bit, hm? Look at how pretty you look with all that blood on you-fuck-” he chuckles lowly, bringing your hand down until you're wrapping it around his exposed cock. “I nearly came watching you do it…” he whispers, squeezing your hand around his cock, “C'mon there's no one here…”

“There's a corpse right there-”

“He's not here anymore.” he's stroking himself using your hand. A part of you wishes you'd be more disgusted. A part of you wishes your moral code was still intact. But the body betrays. And right now your cunt is leaking while your boyfriend with his wild eyes jerks himself off with your hand, as if you were an object. “C'mon, please,”

You're not even sure why his asking anymore. His other hand is already mapping out the contours of your hips, already slipping under your shirt to paw at your breasts

You gasp when he pushes himself between your legs humping frantically against you as he pebbles your nipple between his thumb and index.

“Need it so bad, Princess, please,”

Your hand around his cock isn't even moving anymore, his hips are pushing forward in an act that has your mind slipping.

“I could fuck you like this,” he mumbles, “-without actually fucking you…”

You moan out loud, back arching off the wall, “I swear I'd cum,” he says, “That's how bad I want it-”

“Are you… Nam-gyu are you high?” You try to grapple onto reason with both hands because you were sinking fast. Your eyes were heavy lidded and you were jerking him off now on your own accord.

“Mm, and horny, babe I need it. Don't tell me you don't need it-”

“He spits on his hand before making it disappear through the waistband of your sweats-”

“Jesus this pussy-” in your hand, his cock twitches, right when his cold fingers make contact with your cunt, slick with its own arousal.

“Y-You're disgusting-” you try to say. As if your hips weren't rolling against his hand, as if you didn't drag your hand up and down the length of his shaft.

“Only for you-” his eyes roll back, “I'll be whatever you want me to be,” he says before dipping down to whisper. “I'd live inside you if I could-” That alone has your mind descending further and further into this pit of hellfire you're both swimming in.

“That's it,” his hand rubs circles around your clit. Fast, demanding circles that have you wincing, “Your pussy wants me so bad. You want me so bad I’m- fuck-” Its like he’s not talking to you and that alone makes you delirious.

“Gonna let me cum inside?”

Right when you're on the edge of it all, right when your about to cum, it stops. He's pulling your pants down- slotting himself messily between his legs before he brings his hand under your mouth.

“Spit.” He says, “Spit for me baby quickly.”

You do.

And when he uses it to lube up his cock your head hollows itself of all reason. You need him just as badly and soon, you're bucking upwards, guiding his cock in.

Through the slightly open door, your heart screams. Helpless, violent screams, and for a moment you delude yourself into believing you really have died and gone to hell.

But now the head of his cock is slicing right through you. He stabs you with it, slamming himself in until he's fully sheathed inside you. Your hand paws at his back. You wish he was shirtless so you can sink your nails into his back. Bring him closer. Until you've consumed him whole.

“You're pussy's so good- fuck. Between this, and the pills… Don't know which is better, baby-” he's already fucjing you at a quick and desperate pace against the wall. He lifts your leg up by hooking a hand under your thigh, only slotting himself in deeper.

With his other hand, he lifts the knife up. He lets it glint under the fluorescents. He lets you see it

“I could hurt you too.”

There's no rule that says I can't. I could make you all pretty with your eyes all empty. He presses the knife to the side of the neck as he fucks you, his eyes keenly zeroed in on your hot, sweating dark skin against the pointed tip. His cock oozes precum inside you.

“But your eyes are already pretty, yeah? My pretty baby

“Gyu- I'm gonna cum-”

“Fuck-”

He tilts the knife a little too deep, until a single bead of crimson dots your throat. You don't notice but he does.

“Im gonna cum inside you,” he says, fucking you harder against the wall. You nod, and when he dips his head between your neck to lick that bead of your blood, you feel his cock twitch inside you.

“Wanna taste you, your pussy, your skin, your blood- fuck-”

He's shooting his load inside you as he spews his unholy vitriol. It fills and then it spills and you're creaming around him as you slip into your own orgasm. It muddies your head and you cry out clutching at him like you want him completely inside you..

The door opens.

A blue vest, stops and stares at you two with wide eyes, before shuffling out.

You're both breathing heavily, both on a high that feels impossible to come down from. He's tracing patterns with the knife on your skin and you know next time he cuts you it won't be an accident.

[urstruly-ghst]

why are you covered in kisses ?! (pt. 2) - randoms

in which you see them awake covered in your kiss marks

author's note: i loved this scenario

vil schoenheit

insane, is all vil can say as he saw how smudged your lipstick were. you blush and try to wipe off your work, he laughed, its cute that you think you can get off the work he asked you of. your hand was caught in his strong hand and vil simply just smiled.

"how cute, you think you can remove this? my, potato, i asked for this." he said as vil swats your hand gently and kissed you passionately.

you blush heavily and felt warm, vil pulled away and smiled. vil smiled proudly as he covered you in kisses as well. the soft kisses was filled with adoration for you, it translated well as it leaves you shaking.

vil schoenheit prides his creation and looked at the mirror, both of you dishevelled and covered in each other's lipstick.

"yes, this is the only appropriate way for me to mark you." he nodded.

idia shroud

idia was born with features that were different from you, soon, they became your target of interest. you didn't know what came over you, but those kisses were far too good to stop.

your lipstick stained the blue on his skin, his pals skin littered in a light pink. it was a sight. idia was ablaze and stuttering words of devotion and confusion— he was literally just taking a nap?

"ah. ah. stop, im not done!" you whine as you cup his cheeks, he looked at his phone to check how long has he been under your kisses. idia was shocked and saw the copious amounts of kiss marks.

"woah! this is totally... okay! wait— its not just okay, its great! like its..." he was running out of words as you drown him in the love and care.

malleus draconia

its rare to catch him have a nap. malleus rarely needs to nap, he prefers a long sleep that'll sustain him for the day. but, who was he to deny your whims?

what he didn't expect was the kisses that will awaken him. malleus jolts and smirks at the way your kisses soothe him away from slumber to reality.

"mmh. my dear child of man, what seems to be this display?" malleus joked as your kisses halted with a small smile. you lipstick was smudged and you explain that you couldn't help but kiss him.

malleus stood up and decided carried you to the mirror in his room to admire the handiwork of your love.

"such display needs to be immortalized, no?" he asks as you brought out your camera happily nodding at the notion.

lilia vanrouge

lilia was the one who initiated things, he made it a funny tradition to cover you in kisses. unluckily for you, you never get a chance to get "revenge," until now!

he was fairly tired and you did everything in your power to get him sleepy. and when he relaxed and snoozed, you finally gave him the "revenge" of being marked with your lipstick. but, what you didn't know, lilia was smiling through it all

"ufufu~ ah, my little minx" he said as he "woke up" and seeing the multitude of kisses on his pale face. you smile and he clicks his tongue playfully. "it seems i let my guard down, no?"

lilia shakes his head playfully dejected before grabbing you and trying to "avenge" himself from the kiss monster

taglist: @silverqueen24

[married-to-google-translater]

Imagine accidenatlly calling the twist characters an endearment (ex, darling dear, my everything, baby, honey, etc.) because your too sleep deprived to notice it, but they did! How’d they react?

This is now for dorm leaders~

First years are here

Malleus would start planning marriage~ The words would have a deep meaning and Malleus would not believe that you would say such things if there was no truth in them... Poor dragon loves you a lot and only wants you as his own. You don't need to know about his plans yet. Malleus knows how to be patient when he wants to.

Azul would try his best not to show how much your simple words affect him. His success would be somewhat doubtful. Azul would blush but try to cover it up. Another boy who never got enough love. Azul would like to hear this more often... Maybe he should make a deal for that :3

^ I writed this one after Riddle lol. That's why I said "another".

Leona wouldn't pay much attention to this. He knows you only said that because you were too tired. His plan was to go back to sleep after this. However, he can't sleep. Leona has a warm feeling in his chest and can only think about that moment.

Riddle would turn completely red at your words. He would be a bit shocked how you could say something like that so lightly. This boy hasn't gotten enough love. He'd be a little disappointed when he realized you didn't really mean those words... but maybe sometimes you do.

Kalim would smile and say something nice back to you. He's already in a good mood but this makes his day better~ However, Kalim would also be worried. Why can't you sleep? If you need help, he would be happy to help. You can just come to Sacrabia dormitory and you don't have to worry about anything.

Vil would say something sweet to you back~ Probably a potato-related compliment. Now, however, he would be worried about how little you slept. This would not be a good thing. You get a lecture about how sleep is important for skin care, etc. He just doesn't want you saying things like that to someone else.

Idia would die of a sudden nosebleed. He'd be lucky you weren't there to see this. However, you might wonder why he leaved voice chat so quickly. It would take Idia a long time to gather herself and her thoughts. After that, he would come back as if nothing had happened and wish you would say those words again sometime.

[paxaz535]

SLOW SIMMER - ONE

dallas!paige x privatechef!azzi

note: literally have been thinking of this idea for the longest time, finally decided to write it out

i promise i’m working on the one shots ! it’s just a lot so i like to pre write but i have like 12 drafts lolll

i’m gonna try and keep it a slow burn but idk… enjoy?

————

when azzi got the notification that paige bueckers’ manager had accepted her application for the private chef position, she froze.

she was in the middle of making dinner—steak marinated for hours, asparagus already sizzling in olive oil—when her phone lit up. she wiped her hands on a towel, glanced at the screen, and blinked once. then twice. and then she let out the softest, most shocked, “no fucking way.”

this was real.

she’d applied on a whim. not because she wasn’t serious, but because it felt out of reach. paige bueckers? that was someone who lived on a whole different planet. but now she was packing half her kitchen, wrapping knives in dish towels, sealing up spice jars, trying not to overthink the fact that she’d soon be living in dallas, texas, cooking daily meals for someone who had millions of eyes on her at all times.

azzi had been cooking since she was ten. it wasn’t optional. her mom—katie—ran the house with tight efficiency, and that meant everybody pulled their weight. azzi’s job started with breakfast duty. toast, eggs, bacon, sometimes pancakes on the weekends. by lunch, she was already experimenting. by dinner, she was her mom’s shadow.

when she turned sixteen, katie stepped back. said, “let’s see what you got.” azzi cooked dinner all by herself—chicken thighs with rosemary garlic potatoes and roasted broccoli with lemon zest. her dad and brothers, notoriously picky, cleared their plates.

katie didn’t cook for the rest of that week.

it was her dad who brought it up later. “you ever think about doing this for real?” he asked, sipping sweet tea. “culinary school. chef classes. the whole thing.”

she hadn’t—not seriously. but after that night, she did.

azzi threw herself into it. courses, internships, pop-ups, local gigs. and when she wasn’t in the kitchen, she was filming. posting online. plating food with perfect lighting. her videos blew up. her dms flooded. eventually, one of those messages came from emma. paige’s manager.

and now she was here. duffel bags on the floor. apartment keys in her hand.

—

paige didn’t think she needed a chef.

she could cook—she really could. she had a solid five meals under her belt and a decent sense of seasoning. but with her schedule, cooking just didn’t happen. everything was go-go-go. workouts in the morning, practice mid-day, meetings, press, photoshoots. by the time she got home, she was barely upright.

takeout became the routine. she’d order it on the drive, pick a show to zone out to, and eat on the couch until sleep dragged her under.

it was simple. easy. but it got old.

“i swear if i have to eat one more grain bowl,” she mumbled, tossing the plastic container into the trash.

emma, always two steps ahead, heard the complaint once and took it seriously.

“why don’t you just get someone to cook for you?”

paige frowned. “like… a maid?”

“no,” emma said, already typing. “a chef. a private one.”

paige made a face. “i don’t know. what if they’re weird about it? like—what if they’re just here to say they were in my kitchen?”

“you think too highly of yourself,” emma teased, then laughed. “kidding. kind of. listen, i’ll find someone who’s good. professional. won’t be all in your business. you’ll come home to good food and quiet.”

paige paused. “…okay. but—no men.”

“say less.”

and that was it. emma handled the rest. she sent over a few names, but azzi’s was the one that stood out. her portfolio was clean, impressive, a little artsy but grounded. her food looked good—comforting but elevated. she didn’t try too hard. she wasn’t trying to be a celebrity chef. she just loved cooking.

emma gave the green light. paige shrugged and said fine.

she didn’t know that decision would shift her whole routine.

-

azzi triple-checked the address to make sure she was at the right place. the last thing she needed was to knock on some stranger’s door with a suitcase in one hand and a heavy utensils bag slung over her shoulder.

once she confirmed it, she stepped out of her car and grabbed her things, pausing only to lock the door behind her. paige’s manager had told her to be there by 11:30 on the dot—no earlier, no later. azzi figured paige must’ve had something to do afterwards, and she didn’t want anyone messing with her schedule.

emma had insisted on a proper and quick introduction. just enough to make sure paige felt comfortable with the person who’d be living in her home for… who even knows how long.

azzi took a breath before heading up the short steps to the front door. she’d never done this before—being someone’s private chef. she’d worked events, done in-home dinners, but this was different. this was daily. personal. close.

she was nervous, yeah, but that made sense. and okay, maybe she was also a little intrigued. not in a full-blown crush way—but she wasn’t blind. paige bueckers was beautiful. and more than that, she was her. a champion. an all-american. number one pick. a household name.

basketball was a big deal in azzi’s house. her brothers were obsessed. her dad watched every march madness game like it was life or death. so yeah—she knew who paige was. she also knew she needed to be on her a-game.

when azzi reached the front door, she knocked three times. not too hard, not too soft. she waited, suitcase at her side, adjusting the strap of her utensil bag while she listened to the sound of approaching footsteps.

a moment later, the door opened.

a woman with sharp brown eyes and a warm smile greeted her. brunette, hair clipped up effortlessly in a claw clip, dressed in a dark purple blouse and sleek black pants.

emma.

she matched azzi’s grin almost instantly—because azzi couldn’t help it. her smile always gave her away. wide, bright, those signature bunny teeth front and center.

“azzi, right?”

“yes, ma’am,” she replied, voice steady but kind. “it’s nice to meet you.”

emma stepped aside, holding the door open. “you’re right on time. come on in.”

azzi immediately stepped inside, her eyes scanning the space as she walked in. the apartment smelled like vanilla, soft and warm, with a hint of coconut. maybe even mint, if you sniffed hard enough. it was clean, minimal but lived-in. the kind of place that made you want to sit on the couch and never leave.

floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across one entire wall, sunlight spilling through and pooling onto the hardwood floors. the living room was massive. a huge cream-colored sectional sat in the center, facing a mounted tv with books and candles lining the shelves below. outside the window, dallas glittered in the distance.

everything really was bigger in texas, huh.

but then her eyes landed on the kitchen.

and that was it.

her mouth parted slightly. she stepped forward without realizing. the kitchen was nearly as big as the living room—double oven, island in the center, marble counters, a full rack for spices already installed. built-in fridge. gas stove. space.

real space.

the excitement bubbled in her chest like a slow boil. her fingers twitched at her sides.

emma watched her with a quiet smirk, catching the exact moment azzi’s entire demeanor shifted. it wasn’t dramatic, but she could see it—chefs had a way of lighting up in kitchens. like they could already taste what they’d create.

“she’s all yours,” emma said lightly, her voice soft in the background.

azzi was about to respond, a small smile tugging at her lips, but she froze when she heard a second set of footsteps.

lighter, more casual.

she turned toward the hallway just as paige appeared.

the athlete walked in with a half-full water bottle in one hand and her phone in the other. her blonde hair was pulled back into a loose braid, and she was wearing a gray tee tucked into black nike shorts. her eyes lifted the second she noticed someone new in the room.

azzi blinked.

paige was… taller than she looked on tv. lean but strong, presence filling the space without even trying. her skin had that natural post-shower glow, and her face was bare, soft and open, blinking slowly as she processed who was standing in her apartment.

emma stepped in, gesturing between the two of them. “paige, this is azzi. your new chef.”

azzi stood a little straighter, smile returning instinctively. “hey. it’s really nice to meet you.”

paige’s brows lifted slightly, clearly caught off guard.

but then, after a beat, she nodded. “oh. yeah. hey.”

her voice was low. smooth. still waking up, maybe.

her eyes dropped briefly to the bags at azzi’s feet, then flicked up again—curious, unreadable.

“welcome,” paige said, stepping forward just enough. “hope you don’t mind dogs.”

emma grinned. azzi’s smile widened.

“not at all,” she said. “what’s their name?”

“ace,” paige answered, tone softer this time. “he’ll probably sniff you for ten minutes straight. don’t take it personal.”

“i’ll consider it a warm welcome.”

emma watched them both, quietly satisfied. the air between them wasn’t stiff—not quite—but it held a quiet tension. the kind that could shift into comfort or chaos. too early to tell.

but she had a feeling.

“this is a really nice place,” azzi said as she set her utensil bag down gently on the ledge by the kitchen, fingers brushing over the marble like she was already claiming it.

paige smiled, small and polite. “thank you.”

azzi nodded once, her gaze drifting again to the tall cabinets and deep sink. then silence fell between them. not exactly awkward, but it had weight. like two people stuck between strangers and we’ll-get-there-eventually.

emma glanced at paige with a look. a full conversation packed into a single expression. say something. do something.

paige blinked back at her, confused. it took a second. then her eyes widened. “oh shit. my bad—let me show you your room.”

azzi let out a soft laugh, stepping back toward her bags. “you’re good. lead the way.”

paige nodded and turned, walking down the hallway barefoot, water bottle swinging in her hand. azzi followed, rolling her suitcase behind her, her bag slung across her shoulder. the hallway was long, framed with framed jerseys and a few candid pictures. she caught glimpses of a dog bed, a pile of basketball shoes by a door, a laundry basket tucked against the wall.

they stopped at the second-to-last door.

paige pushed it open, revealing a guest room that didn’t feel like an afterthought. it was clean, cozy. queen bed with gray sheets, a desk near the window, small bookshelf already stacked with random novels and one dog-eared cookbook.

“emma said you’d probably want a space to unwind when you’re not cooking,” paige said, stepping aside so azzi could enter first. “if anything’s missing, just let me know.”

azzi looked around, letting it sink in. it wasn’t flashy, but it was… intentional. thought-out. it felt like she’d be able to breathe here.

“this is perfect,” she said honestly. “thank you.”

paige gave a little nod, then leaned against the doorframe. “cool. you can settle in—no rush. i’ve got a call in like fifteen, so you probably won’t see me again until lunch.”

“got it.”

a pause. paige looked like she wanted to say something else, but instead, she gave a small smile and slipped out.

azzi turned back to the room once the door clicked shut.

okay.

this was real.

she dropped her suitcase by the closet, took a slow breath, and grinned to herself.

first impression? not terrible. maybe even promising.

paige walked back toward the front of the apartment, her steps easy but her mind still spinning a little. she rounded the corner and found emma exactly where she’d left her—leaning against the edge of the kitchen counter, arms crossed, a knowing smile already tugging at her lips.

“so…” emma said, eyes twinkling. “how you liking it so far?”

paige snorted, tossing her water bottle on the counter a little harder than necessary. “it hasn’t even been an hour yet, em.”

emma shrugged, unbothered. “and?”

paige sighed, but her voice softened just a touch. “she seems nice, i guess.”

“you guess?”

“i don’t know,” paige mumbled, dragging a hand through her braid. “she’s quiet. polite. she smiled a lot.”

emma raised a brow. “and that’s a bad thing?”

“no,” paige said quickly. “no. it’s just… weird having someone new in my house. give me like, a week before i form a real opinion.”

emma grinned, grabbing her purse from the barstool. “sure. a week. i’ll check in tomorrow.”

paige rolled her eyes, but there was no bite behind it. “you’re annoying.”

“and yet, i’m always right,” emma sang as she made her way to the door.

paige followed her halfway, leaning against the arm of the couch.

emma pulled the door open but turned back before stepping out. “for real, though… you’ll get used to her. might even like her. she’s got that… calm energy. feels like the opposite of you.”

“thank you for that,” paige deadpanned.

emma just winked. “you’re welcome.”

and with that, she disappeared, the door clicking shut behind her.

paige stood there for a second, letting the quiet settle back in. the place didn’t feel different exactly—but it didn’t feel the same either.

she glanced toward the hallway where azzi’s room was.

calm energy, huh.

we’ll see.

-

azzi started unpacking, slow but methodical. she always liked to settle in right away—it helped the nerves. helped make things feel real.

she slid her suitcase over to the closet and unzipped it, tugging out her neatly folded clothes. basics, mostly. tees, sweats, leggings, a few button-downs she wore for dinners or when she felt like pretending she had it all together. she started stacking them in the dresser drawers, one by one.

the closet was roomy. one side already had empty hangers waiting, which made her smile a little. she hung a few nicer pieces up, kicking her suitcase off to the side once it was empty.

she opened her utensils bag next, double-checking that nothing had shifted out of place during the flight. her knives were still in their protective rolls, each one labeled. wooden spoons, metal tongs, a small blowtorch. she had her own apron too—black with her name stitched in cursive near the chest. cheesy, but hers.

it was technically her room now. her space. she could do whatever she wanted with it. that fact settled into her slowly.

she opened the small bookshelf near the window and slid in a few of her own cookbooks—well-used, dog-eared, some with splashes of oil or sauce still dried on the pages. she kept one in her hands a second longer: flavors from home. it was her mom’s favorite. she set it in the middle.

once everything was in place, she flopped back onto the bed, arms stretched out, eyes on the ceiling.

the apartment was quiet. like the calm before something.

this was her job now. her home too.

she let the quiet settle before pushing herself up, already itching to check out the kitchen again.

her phone dinged, screen lighting up with the familiar chaos of the family group chat. she smiled before she even read it, already knowing someone was about to say something ridiculous.

mom

you made it there yet?

azzi

yes, just settled into the room she gave me

the apartment’s nice

jon

you have to take a picture with her and send it

azzi

lol not right now jon

jose

i’m happy for you sis

although i will need an autograph sooner or later

azzi

🤦🏾‍♀️

dad

good luck cooking for an athlete

you know they eat 2x as much

azzi

wait

you’re not an athlete though..

jon

ooo burn

katie

😂

tim

watch it fudd

azzi

☺️

katie

alright sweetie

be safe

try not to poison her on your first day

azzi

hahah

no promises

she let the phone fall back on the bed beside her, grin still on her face. god, she loved them.

pulling her apron from her bag, she looped it around her neck and tied it behind her back like it was second nature. she grabbed her utensil bag next, zipped it up, and slung it over her shoulder.

then, with a quiet breath and the smallest pep in her step, she left the bedroom and made her way back down the hall.

azzi strolled into the kitchen, this time without hesitation.

this was her domain now.

and lunch wasn’t going to cook itself.

the moment azzi stepped into the kitchen, everything else faded out.

the sun was still pouring in through the massive windows, casting gold over the countertops. the space was clean, untouched, like it had been waiting for her. she set her bag down gently on the island and unzipped it, pulling out her knives and lining them up like soldiers. each blade had its place. her hands moved without thought—grabbing a cutting board, washing her hands, tucking her apron tighter.

she opened the fridge and gave a soft, approving hum. it was stocked well. fresh greens, fruit, eggs, chicken, salmon, almond milk, protein powders, and of course—a drawer full of random condiments athletes swore by.

she scanned the shelves, then pulled out what she needed.

lemon. garlic. rosemary. chicken thighs.

her mind was already spinning a recipe together. something clean but flavorful. comforting, but not heavy. her go-to lemon rosemary garlic chicken over a warm quinoa salad with roasted veggies sounded like the perfect first meal.

she started with the marinade, squeezing lemon juice into a bowl, adding garlic paste, fresh chopped rosemary, a drizzle of honey, salt, and pepper. she dipped a spoon in, tasted it, nodded. good.

she tossed the chicken in the bowl, coating each piece with her hands, then set it to rest.

next: quinoa.

she rinsed it thoroughly, then got it simmering on the stove in low-sodium veggie broth—extra flavor, no extra effort. while that cooked, she chopped up bell peppers, zucchini, and red onion. her knife moved fast, a smooth rhythm against the board. she laid them out on a tray, drizzled with olive oil, hit them with sea salt, cracked pepper, a pinch of paprika, and tossed them in the oven.

by the time the chicken hit the pan, the kitchen already smelled like home. savory, citrusy, rich.

azzi didn’t realize she was smiling until she glanced at her reflection in the oven door.

she loved this.

being here. doing this.

a job that didn’t feel like one.

paige walked out of her room, barefoot, hair now down and out of the braid, no water bottle this time. just her phone.

she wasn’t thinking much—call had ended early, her brain was foggy, and all she really wanted was to lie on the couch and maybe scroll aimlessly for a while. but halfway through the hallway, she stopped.

her nose twitched.

the smell hit her all at once—warm, garlicky, a little sweet, a little sharp. something roasted. something sizzling. she blinked, her stomach reacting before her brain could even place it.

when she turned the corner into the kitchen, she froze.

azzi was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot with one hand, flipping chicken in a cast iron pan with the other. the oven was glowing behind her, and the whole kitchen looked alive now—vibrant, full, used.

paige leaned against the counter quietly. watched for a second longer than she meant to.

“i didn’t know the kitchen could smell like this,” she muttered, half to herself.

azzi turned her head slightly, smile creeping in. “yeah? good surprise or bad?”

“very good,” paige said, and her voice came out softer than she intended.

azzi went back to her chicken. “hope you’re hungry.”

“i wasn’t five minutes ago, but now i think i might eat the pan too.”

azzi laughed, short and warm. “please don’t.”

paige watched her a beat longer. the way she moved—calm, confident, completely in her element. like this was already her kitchen. like she belonged here.

it was… weirdly kind of hot.

paige cleared her throat and stood up straighter. “need help with anything?”

azzi looked over her shoulder, eyes amused. “you offering out of kindness or guilt?”

“guilt,” paige admitted.

“honest. i like that,” azzi said, flipping the last piece of chicken and turning off the heat.

paige leaned against the counter again, eyes following her. “so… what is this?”

“lemon rosemary chicken. quinoa salad with roasted veggies. easy first day lunch.”

paige blinked. “that’s easy to you?”

azzi shrugged. “yeah.”

paige whistled low. “i’ve been living like a peasant.”

azzi smirked. “not anymore.”

paige grabbed two plates without being asked, sliding them onto the island as azzi finished plating the food.

everything looked… perfect. golden seared chicken, still steaming, nestled next to fluffy quinoa mixed with bright roasted veggies—orange, green, red. there was a light drizzle of some kind of sauce on top, too, glossy and rich-looking.

“damn,” paige muttered, genuinely impressed. “i feel like i should tip you.”

azzi laughed under her breath. “not on the first day, please. i might start expecting it.”

they sat down across from each other at the bar, stools pulled in. paige didn’t wait—she grabbed her fork and took a bite of chicken first. her eyes widened just slightly. “oh shit.”

azzi raised a brow, already chewing. “good?”

paige swallowed, then pointed her fork at her. “so good. i feel like i owe you a bonus already.”

azzi gave a small, modest shrug. “i’ll let emma know.”

they ate in a comfortable kind of silence after that. no small talk. just silverware clinking, drinks being sipped, the occasional low hum of appreciation.

paige leaned back eventually, fork still in hand, plate nearly clean.

“i’m not even exaggerating—i think i might cry,” she said, hand on her chest. “this actually healed something in me.”

azzi smiled, cheeks a little pink. “then i did my job.”

“nah,” paige said, “you bodied your job.”

azzi shook her head, amused. “you’re dramatic.”

“you’ll get used to it.”

azzi leaned her elbows on the counter, her tone light. “so what now? nap? practice?”

“practice,” paige groaned. “which sucks because now i’m full and happy and don’t want to move.”

“want me to make you something for post-practice?”

paige tilted her head. “you do that too?”

“that’s kind of the job, isn’t it?”

paige didn’t say anything right away. just looked at her. really looked.

then nodded, slow and certain. “you’re gonna fit in here just fine, fudd.”

azzi smiled, biting back the way that nickname made her stomach flip.

“we’ll see.”

-

when paige arrived at practice, she barely made it through the doors before two voices hit her from opposite ends of the gym.

“you’re smiling way too much,” dijonai said, hands on her hips, eyebrows lifted.

“she’s glowing,” arike added, tossing a ball up and catching it lazily. “who made you breakfast this morning?”

paige tried to play it cool, adjusting her hoodie and pulling the sleeves up past her elbows. “y’all act like i don’t smile.”

“you don’t,” dijonai shot back. “not like this.”

“mhm,” arike agreed, walking over. “you got that i just ate real good and had someone clean the dishes for me energy. go ahead. spill.”

paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at her mouth. “emma got me a private chef.”

dijonai’s jaw dropped. “what?”

“you got it like that now?” arike laughed.

“no—it’s not like that. i was tired of eating frozen meals and chipotle bowls every night. i just—i don’t have time to cook.”

“so you hired someone to live with you?” dijonai asked, now fully invested.

“not hired. emma hired. i just agreed,” paige clarified, then shrugged. “but yeah. she moved in this morning.”

arike raised a brow. “and you’re already smiling like that? what’s her name?”

paige hesitated, then looked down at her shoes for a split second. “…azzi.”

“azzi,” dijonai repeated, dragging out the name like she was trying to taste it. “that sounds like a problem.”

“a pretty problem,” arike added under her breath.

“she’s just a chef,” paige said, defensive but not convincing. “she made lemon rosemary chicken for lunch. and like. quinoa. and roasted veggies. it was insane.”

“mmhmm,” dijonai said, smirking. “and did she cook, or cook cook?”

“what does that even mean—”

“it means you’re not just full, you’re fed. spiritually.”

paige tried to fight the grin again but failed. “okay. maybe.”

arike bumped her shoulder. “you’re in trouble.”

“i’m not,” paige insisted, then sighed, grabbing a ball off the rack. “she’s cool. it’s chill.”

“sure,” dijonai said. “until one day she’s making you post-practice pasta and you’re in love.”

paige just laughed before shaking her head. “i just met her. who knows, she could be a serial killer.”

dijonai raised a brow. “a serial killer who sautés?”

“those are the most dangerous ones,” arike added, dribbling in place now. “you think everything’s fine, next thing you know you’re dead in a house that smells like fresh-baked focaccia.”

paige laughed, hand on her chest. “y’all are actually insane.”

“we’re just saying,” dijonai said, walking backwards toward the baseline. “if she can cook like that and she’s cute—”

“who said she was cute?” paige cut in, too quickly.

both arike and dijonai stopped in their tracks, turning slowly.

“nobody,” arike said, grinning. “you just did.”

paige blinked, lips parting slightly before she scoffed. “whatever. focus on practice, please.”

“you focus on keeping your heart intact,” dijonai teased, then jogged off toward the rest of the team.

paige stood there for a second longer, spinning the ball in her hands.

“not happening,” she mumbled to herself, but even she didn’t believe it.

-

azzi had her hair tied back, an apron snug around her waist, sleeves pushed up. she was in her element—music playing low on her phone, knife tapping rhythmically against the cutting board as she chopped fresh herbs. garlic and shallots were already sizzling on the stove, their aroma filling the space.

the kitchen was warm, sun dipping lower outside the massive windows. she didn’t mind the quiet—she liked this kind of solitude, where she could move how she wanted, experiment a little, taste as she went.

this time it was a creamy tomato-based pasta, something rich but not too heavy. she’d roasted cherry tomatoes earlier, slow and low with olive oil, then blended them into the sauce with basil and a hint of red pepper.

for protein, she marinated some grilled shrimp in citrus and honey—it was cooling now, ready to be reheated just before paige walked in.

azzi looked at the clock: 5:18 p.m.

emma had mentioned paige’s practices usually ended around 5:30, which meant she’d be back soon.

as she stirred the sauce, her phone lit up from where it sat on the counter.

emma

hey, just checking in. everything good so far?

azzi

all good. just cooking dinner now.

she paused before sending another one.

azzi

do you know if she has any allergies or food sensitivities? just to be safe.

emma replied almost instantly.

emma

no allergies. she hates mushrooms though lol

azzi

noted. no mushrooms in this kitchen.

azzi smiled a little to herself, sliding the pasta into a large ceramic bowl.

she wiped her hands on a towel, then leaned back against the counter, letting the music play.

if paige walked in now, dinner would already be ready.

and maybe—maybe that would say enough on its own.

azzi had a feeling she was gonna enjoy being here.

so why did she also feel like it was going to be a problem too?

[myunghology]

PHANTOM BUSTERS! — general relationship headcanons.

ıllı “ i still wanna be your favorite boy ! ”

pairings mogari shishikuno, eugene korekishi, kaoru kanzaki, tamon kotaro, and ichimiya sorato x gender neutral! reader. ( better read in light mode!! ) tw for swearing !! not proofread, beware for wrong grammar 'nd typos..

a/n — i finally caved in writing for these fuckers.. i added ichimiya because we all love him. no bashers allowed ❌❌❌ filo phanbus fans follow me hahahah HELLO FILIPINO TAMON NATION

— MOGARI SHISHIKUNO

he did not bag the baddie (you) the baddie bagged him. and he just stays bagged. basically the main description of your relationship. this can work for tamon too now that i think about it YKW THIS GOES FOR EVERYONE HERE THEY'RE ALL LOSERS. but mogari in particular HE'S SUCH AN IDIOT you forget under allat is a fucking ripped 16 year old 💔💔. loser trapped in a hot body fr

“me and my stupid ass bf” “i hate my bf” ahh relationship.. you're joking you love him lots but sometimes he's just TOO MUCH. in a good way, sometimes he has these bursts of energy where he just picks you up potato sack carry style and runs a whole mile. ( more under the cut! )

trashcan boyfriend (2). literally anything you put aside / don't like he will eat. literally the olive theory but revamped?? you don't even have to say anything just take it off your plate and place it on his and he'll get the message immediately. “i don't like it...” you mumble as your food is already in his mouth.

funniest dynamic especially if you're a slow eater. mogari just stares at you when you aren't even halfway finished with your bento when he was done with his school lunch about twenty minutes ago. like at this point, HE is offering to eat it for you. of course he would fucking fatass

would looooveee doing tiktok trends with you. actually he would agree to do anything you'd ask him to so he's delicate here. has an addiction with kisses number 1. he'll randomly cup your face with one hand and kiss your cheek like crazy even when you're in public..

actually he's just addicted to you in general. why wouldn't he be when you're just the prettiest little thing he knows 😕 he adores you so much it's not even funny atp. most obsessed bf out of all of them prove me wrong (you can't haha. ₕₒₑ)

— EUGENE KOREKISHI

epitome of the perfect boyfriend.. it's like he came out of a book (well hm..) everyone in your family loves him because why's your mom asking you when is he coming over and can he come over during a family reunion so everyone else can meet him

your daily conversation with him goes “i'm going out with mom later, wanna come? i heard you were busy.” “i am. but isn't your mom always busy?” “ah no, i meant your mom.” “why are you calling my mom ‘mom’?!” “she insisted, so..” this guy is unconsciously making moves on your family too.

type of boyfriend to make you tea at night if you can't fall asleep.. is on the brink of exhaustion but if you can't sleep he won't too. unless not until you fall asleep first. he'll caress your cheek and pat your back until he can hear your soft snores haha

would buy you jewelry as a gift, but it actually means something, even if it's small like the jewel being your birthstone. the price ranges on how serious he is about your relationship— the most he'll do right now is probably a simple pandora bracelet or a promise ring, maybe even more in the far future :)

would gladly wear those "i love my gf/bf" t-shirts if you asked him to. (as long as you two are in private obv he has a reputation to hold LMAO SORRY) but isn't afraid to speak up / show that he's taken so you're in good hands!! i just know he has girls proffessing their love for him.. and he just turns 'em down with a “no haha, i'm dating someone already. sorry.” GREEN FLAG

anddd, i just love how the whole phanbus x reader fandom just agreed that korekishi's a natural flirt / tease. LIKE YES this is the one thing we can all collectively agree on. the small acts of intimacy he does but you're able to catch on is so... ksjdnsknss yes. whenever he makes you lean on him once he notices your eyes getting droopy, tutoring you late in the night even though he's on the brink of falling asleep, not being able to leave you until he KNOWS you're safe :,)... okay enough

— KAORU KANZAKI

i believe he's the type of boyfriend who'd act all nonchalant around you but giggle and roll in his bed at night when thinking about you. the type to bite his finger when you're having a conversation online.. omfg “why couldn't they tell that we're dating.. we're literally matching profiles tf”

softest skin ever, and has the squishiest cheeks (like a cats), and reacts like a cat does whenever you tug it's whiskers. this guy's skin literally looks like glass and feels like jello it's crazy. speaking of cats, he's a magnet for 'em. you have a feisty cat? tamed immediately. loves em too :3

manga reading / anime watching date nights in his house with the door unlocked of course per his sisters request— she'd walk in and you'd be sleeping on zaki's chest as he scrolls on his phone whilst patting your head, or he could still be watching tv. “do you need anything?” his sister usually whispers, and he responds with a thumbs up.

you're literally his dress up doll i'm sorry. that sounds wrong but that's exactly how he described it to you. he just simply likes dressing you up!! so does his sister but he won't let her lay a hand on you because he doesn't want her to pester you every time you come over wkwkwkwk.. also because he just wants you all to himself

he isn't laughing anymore by the time you turn him into your personal makeup/skincare doll. give and take though, right? he can't even be mad because he did it to you first. zaki when there's consequences to his own actions 💔❌😕😭 but he doesn't actually fight it!! just a simple “what're you doing” and he'll back off right after saying that.

i am another truther to easily jealous! kanzaki.. everyone knows he's a huge tsundere (kinda at least) and on top of that, he's the jealous bf final boss. the others don't have that much jealousy boiling within them BUT THIS GUY. not jealous in an insecure way, not really but in a way that he just wants to keep you all to himself ;(. you're his person, of course he wants to be with you always even tho it isn't obvious.. !

— TAMON KOTARO

everybody give it up for everyones loser bf!! literally would be up at 12am thinking ‘man how'd i pull them’ with his face buried in his hand it's almost pathetic honestly. number 2 on the perfect boyfriend list because he means everything to me tbh. handsome, tall, can cook, AND WON'T GIVE ANYONE ELSE ATTENTION? CRIPPLING LOYALTY??? wow he's amazing

you could be messaging him at 5am with a “my hair's so fucked im gonna start crying if my hair's ugly im ugly” and he's awake from your message, replying with a “no you're always so beautiful baby i love uuu”. no one talk to me where do i get one of these. literally has an alarm because he knows whenever you're gonna hit him up w/ those weird messages, also because he wants to have another late night conversation with you!!

reassurance FINAL BOSS has no problem with reassuring you over and over from how much he loves you, actually you probably don't need reassurance at all because of his crippling social anxiety but you know. for the plot let's say you do need it. would coo and whisper to you because he knows you need affection too, more than anyone.

the type of boyfriend who'd freeze up once he feels your head laying on his shoulder or chest, what plays in his mind is a continuous sentence of “don't move don't move don't move don't move don't move don't move”. also would sacrifice his headphones for you if you don't like crowded and noisy places.. he loves u so much lordddd

i genuinely feel like nights with tamon are so comforting :((. bonding over small stuff like music, maybe even asking him to play the guitar for you is everything. has the most calming voice too— is a listener and a yapper! best of both worlds whenever you're with him!!

i fear he is especially weak to cute people with pretty eyes. weak for you in general but you know what i mean, right? just look up at him with dilated pupils and he immediately realizes he's fucked. he was fucked anyw ever since he first saw you BUT STILL!! he gets weak in the knees he is in bliss right now.. no one can interrupt his fantasies besides you of course

— ICHIMIYA SORATO

how to get the student council to respect you in 4 simple steps: 1. behave and don't cause a ruckus. 2. get good grades for no problems. 3. apply to be on the student council. 4. date their president ✅ literally everywhere you go students are shaking in their boots (especially the council) because they all know they're gonna face ichimiya's wrath if they ever mess w/ you. and you're just there like ʚ(꒪ˊ꒳ˋ꒪)ɞ

likes being babied taken care of i take no criticism!! cup his face, run your fingers through his hair, let him rest his face in your chest, caress his face and he's weak in the knees. he still has that iconic scowl on his face but he'll gladly return your affection :).

unconsciously gives you headpats, especially if you're shorter! also leads to ichimiya pulling you closer to him to wrap an arm around your shoulder and you just comply. you just get dragged by this man and. it's.. it is what it is, he needs you for emotional support okay.. no ones gonna say anything anyway and they can't.

i genuinely believe this guy has really soft hair (as contrary to him liking you playing with his hair), he let's you do whatever with it as long as you're alone. because someone tell eugene why he's seeing ichimiya with pigtails on your close friends instagram story.. ;-;

you sometimes tease him by saying “as expected of chairman!!” on the most simplest of things. literally he could just be making coffee for you and hot chocolate for himself in the morning or in the night, and you'd go “AS EXPECTED OF CHAIRMA—” and he cuts you off by pushing your head backwards lightly with his index finger.

so down bad for you but he hides it so well even YOU don't know it. literal d1 simp for you. okay maybe it's a bit obvious— the way he kisses your cheek repeatedly before murmuring a “give me a kiss,” as you turn your head to give him what he really wanted all this time. desperate bf in disguise actually :3 (affectionate)

@myunghology — i finished this in less than a day woah. “one of us here is not like the others” ahh ichimiya.. WHATEVER he's so pretty anyway our little loser

[hoperese]

Maybe This Time LN4

After a year apart, she runs into Lando at a party, where old feelings and regrets resurface. In the quiet moments outside, truths are confessed, and the weight of what was left unsaid finally comes between them.

word count: 743 pairing: lando norris x reader content: second chance trope warning: Angst, Exes meeting again, Emotional tension, Regret, Mild language, Alcohol use

rese notes: sorry for not updating... will soon upload the part 2 of this fic and multo!

It was awkward to see him again after a year had passed. Even she couldn’t wrap her head around how fast time had flown—as if it were just last night when they both decided to end the relationship. Maybe it was her struggle with the distance, or maybe it was the lack of reassurance Lando gave her. To her, it was a fifty-fifty situation. Part of her had grown tired of what Lando offered in return. She never wanted the expensive gifts he brought her; all she ever wanted was him—Lando Norris.

She found him at a party, surrounded by mutual friends. As she sipped her drink, her eyes wandered to the corner of the room where she spotted him, laughing and chatting with another guy. She cursed silently in her mind—he still looked the same. Those same eyes she fell in love with a little more each day. That same smile she used to wake up to, the one that would tell her he’d choose her every time—even if she turned into a potato. A silly, sweet memory from one of their nights together.

But now... seeing him like this—it felt different.

She stepped outside for some air, sipping her drink as she leaned against the wall and looked up at the sky. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice him quietly entering the same space—until she felt a light poke on her shoulder. Startled, she flinched and snapped, “Fucking—” as she turned around.

There he was.

“Why are you here?” she asked sharply, her voice colder than she intended. She hadn’t expected to see him out there.

“You were missing,” he replied simply.

The truth was, he’d been keeping an eye on her the entire night. He noticed when she slipped out, already knowing she would. She always did. Parties overwhelmed her.

She blinked at him, expression unreadable. “And?”

She took another sip of her drink as Lando leaned against the wall beside her.

“I’m just looking out for you,” he said softly. “You always get overwhelmed at parties like these.”

And she hated that he still knew that about her—so specifically, so intimately.

There was an awkward silence between them, heavy and filled with unspoken things. She finally broke it, her voice soft but steady. “How’s life?” It sounded simple, casual—but she meant more than that. She wasn’t asking in a polite, passing way. She wanted something real, something personal. She wanted to know how he truly was.

Lando hesitated, glancing at her as if searching for the right words. “Fine… just the usual,” he said, though he could even hear how empty it sounded. The awkwardness lingered between them.

Then her next words hit him differently.

“I missed you… you know,” she said quietly, looking away, unable to meet his eyes. After a moment, she added, almost as if confessing, “I didn’t mean to hurt you like that, Lan. I really didn’t.” The guilt she’d carried since that night—the night they ended it—weighed on every word. “I just thought… it would be for the better, you know?”

Lando looked at her as if she’d just said something absurd. His heart ached. “You—you think it was better? Better for us to break up?” His voice cracked slightly, emotion slipping through. “Baby—” He stopped himself, realizing the pet name had fallen from his lips without thinking. He sighed, correcting himself, “Y/n… why would you think that was better?”

The hurt was clear in his eyes. Clear in his voice. The kind of hurt that comes from believing in something, only to have it taken away.

She lowered her gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought… I thought I was distracting you. Or—I don’t know—maybe the love wasn’t there anymore. And I didn’t want that, Lan.” The guilt tightened in her chest as she added softly, “Sorry…”

Lando’s expression softened, but there was pain behind his eyes. “We… we could’ve talked about it,” he said, his voice thick with the weight of what could’ve been. “I told you—sometimes things feel heavy even when they’re not.”

Slowly, he closed the space between them, close enough for her to feel the warmth of him again. His voice turned gentle, too gentle—the kind of softness that made her heart ache. “You should’ve been honest with me, love.”

And she hated that. Hated how kind he was. Hated how he could still be so tender when all she’d done was push him away.

[noistanaccount]

Ryoko Kui Does Not Believe in Epiphanies (or: why Marcille and Mithrun's endings are great actually)

I have seen a couple of people who are upset about the way that Mithrun and Marcille's stories were resolved so I'm writing this to clear some things up. Ryoko Kui does not believe in epiphanies. An epiphany is a sudden and usually brief realization, an "aha" moment. Epiphanies are emotionally powerful moments. Both Marcille and Mithrun have powerful moments of realization, epiphanies.

Whether or not you like these resolutions, there's something you need to understand, Ryoko Kui does not put that much stock into these moments. Immediately after Marcille has her realization, Tansu responds like this:

While this is mostly his own opinion, what he is pointing out is that epiphanies are brief, they are singular moments that do not define a life. Life is long, and epiphanies do not sustain you. Marcille might feel like this now, but what about tomorrow? what about nex year? ten years, a hundred years, five hundred years from now? How often have you felt a sudden understanding? a burst of inspiration, or perhaps a realization that everything is pointless? It generally passes quickly, and you make dinner, and go to bed.

Think about the best meal you have ever had, it was probably a special occasion, maybe it felt like something magical, in the moment you might have felt like your life was changed. Then, in the morning you were hungry, so you ate breakfast. You cooked, you did the dishes, you went on with your life. What "meaning" did that meal have if you were hungry again the next day? Mithrun has to rebuild everything, every day he has to come up with new desires to do the very basics. None of it comes naturally, he has to find a reason to eat beyond being hungry, a reason to want to do anything when he doesn't want anything. Ryoko Kui tells us outright, that there is no magical solution:

The same thing applies to Ryoko Kui's representation of racism in dungeon meshi. Around when the orcs appeared in the anime I saw people gripeing about the way racism is treated. They seemed to think that Laios's party having dinner with the orcs was presented as them "solving" racism. Once again people misunderstand, they did not solve racism in a single moment. A few people, understood each other a little better, came to an arrangement and then parted. This was merely a moment in their lives. The characters continue to do micro-agressions, hold stereotypes, and have implicit biases. In dungeon meshi, characters don't suddenly stop being racist in the course of an evening. Life is a process, learning about others is a process, it's about the accumulation of experiences through the meat and potatoes of life, the daily activities that we actually fill our lives with, not the sudden realizations. Once you make learning about and living with other people into part of your routine, once it is embodied, then it is part of your life.

This is the real conclusion: life is not lived in a state of epiphany. Life is about chores, cooking, eating, shitting, working, and sleeping, it's everyday. Life is about doing simple things and doing them well. An epiphany is a useful tool for telling the reader that everything is going to be alright, we love to read epiphanies and be swept up in them. They can also be a breaking of a pattern, an escape from a spiral.

This is the other take away, it's about the people you do those things with, the way they rub off on you, the way they help you be human. For Mithrun and Marcille their paths would be impossible without other people pushing them back on the path as they stray. Mithrun literally would starve to death except for the thought that kabru and others don't want him to. Eating is a communal activity, so is living, you can have an epiphany on your own; you can't live on your own.

[amandacanwrite]

I would like to share a few head canons for Gale Dekarios being in love with tav/you. If you liked this one and have a request for another character let me know. These ones have just been percolating for a bit.

In Battle

He tries very hard to stay near you. He doesn’t like it when you go off on your own. He knows he doesn’t quite have the strength of Karlach or the sure footedness of Astarion, but he’s not just going to let you fight everyone on your own.

Sometimes he gets a little hurt that you always put yourself in harms way/take so much of the damage on the battlefield. Don’t you know that losing you would destroy him?

You have never witnessed it, but according to the other party members he goes feral if you’re knocked unconscious.

When you wake up it’s always with your head cradled in his lap as shadowheart works on the worst of the wounds.

He does this thing with his magic where he makes his hands really cold. It feels nice on your feverish skin as he gently smooths your hair away from your face, you don’t know why you feel so nauseous and sweaty after you black out but this little gesture helps you come back smoothly.

He has a hard time sleeping after a rough encounter. He keeps waking up and making sure you’re still breathing. In the end he gives up on sleeping and just reads by the fire, calming his nerves to the sound of your steady, stable breathing.

In Camp

He is hilariously fussy about what you eat.

“No, you ABSOLUTELY CANNOT subsist off of a loaf of bread, three olives and a bottle of wine. We are no longer young scholars barely SCRAPING by—“

Very resourceful when it comes to what you can scrape together out of barrels around camp. You were very skeptical when you watched him putting a variety of different bones into a cauldron as you left him back in camp one day. But you came back to a rich stew full of potatoes, some wild rice and even some cut up apple in the mix.

He likes it when you play with his hair. But he has to very pointedly avoid it if he’s in the middle of reading up on something.

“Darling, are you certain you’re not practiced in the arcane arts? I do think you’ve got some magic in those fingertips of yours, at the very least, with how quickly they can put me to sleep.”

When You’re Alone

It’s simple. He worships you. Perhaps it’s because his last lover was a goddess but it seems to come easy for him; the reverent words, the gentle touches, the utter devotion. Sometimes you catch him just… looking at you. His eyes softly hooded, a relaxed curve to his lips. It’s your favorite to ask what’s on his mind when he looks at you like that.

“Hm? Oh, nothing much. I’ve just been observing. Did you know you purse your lips when you’re reading something that you disagree with? Yes—hah—just like that.”

He loves to read WITH you. Especially loves to show you some of his favorite tomes. He’ll get you all nestled up against him and hold the book down in front of you. He reads much faster than you, so he busies himself kissing behind your ear or playing with your hair until you turn the page.

Gods does he love it when you ask him questions about something to do with magic. He loves watching the glint in your eye when he’s helped you understand something.

You love it when you get him rolling on a topic of theory that you know he doesn’t get to talk about much. Sometimes he loses you when he gets into the minutiae, but he’s so damn cute when he’s ranting about the wonder in the world.

In Intimate Moments

(Potential NSFW below.)

Of course it is not a surprise that he’s a generous lover. What is a surprise is how demanding he can be when he feels like it. He knows you are no stranger to a challenge and he loves to make things more exciting by presenting you with one.

“Of course I’m aware of our companions in camp. But it’s not as if we can afford ourselves more privacy. You’re just going to have to quiet those lovely little sounds you make while I touch you… let’s see… it was here wasn’t it? Ah, ah… shhhh, my love. Those pointy ears of Astarion’s might pick even that tiny sound.”

Gods does he know how to string words together to leave you completely undone.

Sometimes foreplay is mostly talk. He can get you going without even touching you.

“My love, I’ve not been able to stop thinking of the ways I want to touch you all day. Shall I tell you what’s been on my mind?”

His breath tickles against your ear as his hands smooth over your clothed body, telling you how he wants to take you. It’s all the more flustering when you know he always keeps his word.

Love making always starts with a kiss, deep and slow.

You feel him smile into the kiss when he slips his fingers into the front of your trousers and he feels just how aroused he’s made you.

“You are exquisite. A delicacy of the highest quality. Do you know that?”

He’s not one to bang it out for a quickie. He doesn’t like to feel like he’s stealing his time with you, or like he’s a young man again and hastily getting whatever he can before heading back to the dormitories. Every touch, every word, every thrust is slow and deliberate. He wants to relish the feeling of it all. He wants to soak you in.

Somehow, he always smells good. Like cinnamon and tea and… some earthen, herbaceous scent you cant place.

So many cuddles after you’re done.

[krypticcafe]

Can please get fic where young reader almost gets r-word.. like! What happened to ellie on 'the last of us' like make it into that situation, reader kills the rapist and flees away and runs into the 141 team, and their like in this state of like panic, but they calm them down and they explain what happened they are beyond livid so they just reck hell on the people who was with the man who tried to r-word reader.

(this a platonic relationship between reader and the team)

Me and the Devil

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic 141 x gn!reader

warning(s): no use of y/n, dead dove do not eat, non-explicit attempted r*pe, emotional and physical trauma, sexual physical and mental violence, canon-typical graphic violence, comfort

wordcount: ~3.8k

a/n: i'm not exactly sure what anon meant by young, but for context, reader is probably 20-22, I'm just not comfortable writing this kinda stuff for teen or child reader, I hope you don't mind. also, huge, HUGE emphasis on the warnings. though nothing is explicit and there are no sexual graphic terms, the descriptions and actions alone are still very disturbing and uncomfortable! and the violence is a little uncomfy for those not used to it, too. title is from 'Me and the Devil' - Soap&Skin

synopsis: You can see it. The devil. It laughs, and laughs, and laughs, mocks you for your childish stupidity and naivete. To think the angels would come marching in, that you'd make it out with any semblance of sanity. You can't fight it, you can't even hide from it. All you can do is lie in your grave.

Just hours ago, you were alongside the 141, cleaning up and wiping out an enemy base, a typical Tuesday on a summer afternoon. You should've known things would go downhill with how smoothly it was all going. Even Price commented on it with an air of wariness and suspicion. After all, it was a saying that if the fight starts getting too easy, then it's an ambush. And an ambush it was. You want to tell yourself that it was nothing, easy as pie compared to what you've been through. You wanted to say that it was a success and you turned the tables on your enemies. You wanted to say that it ended within a matter of minutes and that you were on your way back to base with your boys, ready for a night of banter at the pub. You'd join Ghost in watching Soap and Gaz try their hand at poker, taking a shot each time Soap's dogshit luck lost him another couple of euros while Price would pry Roach from having another cocktail and piss himself ('it was one time!' he slurs).

But instead, you're here. Locked in a room, bag over your head, tied to a chair, a stereotypical hostage situation but that didn't make it any less tolerable. Though having a potato sack over your head was nowhere near as embarrassing as the reason why you were captured. You tried your best to hold onto the jeep, honestly, you did. Until some ankle-biter decided to latch onto you and sink his teeth into your flesh, causing your grip to loosen and send you tumbling into the dirt. Your bodies slammed into the ground, kicking up dust and your opponent taking most of the fall damage for you. How thoughtful.

Seething at the audacity he had to chomp on your leg like some feral mutt, you gave him a piece of your mind and made sure he'd never bite another ankle again. His friends caught up the moment you were done. They dragged you back down to the coarse dirt and sand of the earth, making you taste and choke on dust. You looked at the lifeless figure in the sand, briefly wondering if you'd be wishing you were him before a bag was slipped over your head and tied like a collar. It didn't help that the sand on the roof of your mouth combined with your ineffective attempts to ration your breathing made for a burn worse than any hard liquor down your throat. Thrashing and shouting like a madman, you cursed them like some teenager who discovered swearing as they tossed you into the back of a truck, rolling you forth with the heels of their boots. Not your finest moment.

Once you were loaded and the rest of them climbed on, the truck shot forward without slowing down for a second, taking you to your own personal hell for the next few days. Knowing the 141, they were probably at the safehouse, planning their next move to retrieve you. In the time between interrogations and routine attempts to break you, you could imagine Soap and Roach pacing around the room, Ghost brandishing a knife with a dark look in his eyes, and Price looming over a map and pulling up contacts with Gaz at his side. While you hated to burden them with your own mistakes, thinking about them all gnawing their teeth in comical anger at your expense brought you momentary comfort, eliciting a small chuckle.

"Something funny?" Much to your ire, all your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of several people shuffling into the room. You could only expect so much privacy in a place like this. The man who spoke up seemed to carry himself like a leader, considering how he spoke above all others and you could hear him carrying out demands every now and then, checking up on you as if he actually gave a shit. And currently, he was on the top of your "to kill" list, along with every other cunt in this prison.

"What'll it be today, more screaming or more silence? You know, you can only stay quiet for so long." He sighed. Judging by the sound of metal screeching on concrete, he pulled up a front-row seat. With a single yank, you were again temporarily freed of the confines of the bag on your face, glaring at the man with a look of ferocity that seemed as if it were etched on your face permanently. His clothes were disturbingly clean-cut and polished despite the blood he spilled for the past few days. Your blood he spilled. "Come now... you know you'll only make things more difficult. Face it, kid, they're not coming, it's been days."

When you felt gloved fingers touch your jaw you snapped, pulling away like an animal restrained by a leash. Your captor let out a taunting "Oooh", and your skin crawled at how he heckled and laughed like some adolescent boy poking a rabid animal with a stick through its cage. "So it bites."

"Fuck you." You rasped.

"And it talks." The humiliation of their nonchalant attitudes made you seethe, you knew it was a tactic to get under your skin and you just wouldn't have it, turning your head away from the men.

"Uh-uh, eyes on me. How is such a fresh thing like you out fighting wars with men like them?" He hummed, gripping your jaw with a strength that took you by surprise and had you wincing. Even though his hands were gloved, it felt as if he were trying to dig into your skin. With no other choice, you were forced to look into his eyes, the pyres of unimaginable anger burning in yours.

However, it was then that you felt it. Something was off. Something was horribly off about him. The several times he'd come in here to either coax you with gentle words or have his men beat you within an inch of your life, he either had some faux kindness or gleeful malice painted across his face. But this time, his eyes were alight with slimy delight. You hated it, Hated how it made you feel small, cornered, pulling on your leash so that you couldn't be yanked from the one place that made you feel safe. You hated how it didn't feel like he was trying to get under your skin, or sink into your bones but instead your mind as if to violate it. You hated how it seemed like he had something more in mind, something that you couldn't predict like a kick to the ribs or a carefully worded reassurance that you'd be in "good hands". It was the one thing you felt like you had control over, knowing what was next, and now you didn't.

With a wave of his hand, his men all filed out of the room, leaving just him and you alone. One came back with a bowl in their hands and you felt yourself doubt your worries. Were you already beginning to lose it in here? "Hungry?" He smiled, taking the bowl and dismissing the soldier. It looked and smelled like a stew, potatoes, and beef, not scraps of stale bread or lukewarm, half-empty beer cans.

"I asked them to make something special today for you, isn't that nice? I suppose even someone like you has a taste for the finer things in life and wouldn't say yes to leftovers." No answer came but it was to be expected as he mixed the stew with a spoon. Your eyes were trained on his face instead, expecting some kind of strings attached. He entertained that expectation by—to your disgust—spitting into the stew, mixing it more, and bringing up a spoonful to your face. "Consider that the cost of being so picky. Open wide, soldier. Surely you won't make a fuss again, now will you?"

There was a pause, you leaned forward, lips ghosting the tip of the spoon before you roughly shoved his chair away from you with your boot. The bowl fell from his hands onto the ground, pooling between the two of you. He could go to hell with his stupid fucking soup.

He let out a scowl of disapproval, his self-satisfied smirk replaced with disgust and irritation like a parent to their troublemaking child. Fine with you, you didn't need that asshole's approval. He stood, grabbing a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping his hands and the small splatters on his uniform. "Should've known better that the government's pets would act like such animals. I gave you a chance, I tried to make this easy for you." He snarled, tossing his handkerchief aside and grabbing you by the collar, "But no, you just had to be a fucking brat, huh? Fine, be one. I can work with that. Either way, you'll be put in your place soon enough."

Before you could comprehend what he was implying, he slashed the ropes that binded you to your chair with a combat knife and shoved you to the floor, your head throbbing as it hit concrete, along with the rest of your aching muscles. Vision blurred, you sat up and tried to make out what he was doing, falling back when he roughly grabbed your hair and shoved your head back down into the ground. Like an alarm, every single flight or fight response went off in your body and yet you couldn't figure out what he was trying, you just knew that this was something worse and that you were a fool to let your guard down for a single second.

A twisted smile broke across his lips, "You know, you have a very lovely voice. You sing the loveliest songs."

Your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face until you let out a yelp of pain when he pressed into your stomach, already bruised from previous matters. He let out a sigh that made you shudder and you felt bile creep up your throat, moving your face to the side in fear that you'd choke on it.

"Eyes. On. Me." He snapped, his voice sounding so much louder than it actually was, his hand twisting your jaw back to look up at him while his fingers proceeded to dig themselves into whatever spots got you hissing and squirming away. That's all it took for your resolve to break, the blaze in your eyes fizzling out and replace with genuine fear and utter shock as you watched him straddle you and stare with a piercing gaze that trapped you. It forced your attention to stay on him, daring you to look anywhere else but him when that was all you could focus on. Him.

You couldn't even scream, paralyzed when you heard the sound of metal clinking against metal and the brushing of fabric, raw horror setting itself alight in your bones at how he loomed over you. At that moment, you swore you could see the devil itself laughing, cackling, mocking you in his eyes.

It was like you were seven again.

Scared, cornered in your room because you swore, you swore and sobbed and cried that you saw it, a monster in your closet. A dark, shadowy figure that'd taunt you merely with its existence and prayed on your downfall, drinking the fat tears you spilled and listening to your high-pitched cries as if they were music, eyes that you couldn't see but they could see you.

Others tried to convince you that it wasn't real, opened the doors, and closed them again, showing that there was nothing but cleanly folded clothes and hung-up jackets lined neatly along a rack. Every time, you'd feel a little more silly about your fears but anxious that they'd come back for more.

At some point, you nearly forgot about the monster altogether. It ceased to exist in your closet, but never your mind.

"Damn it, what now?!"

Pulled back into the present, you heard muffled speech with loud, obtrusive noises and more screaming and cursing from the man above you. He was faced with the still-closed door, talking to a soldier behind it. Instead of trying to catch up with what happened, your mind raced to its defensive instincts. Finding the spoon dropped from earlier, you reached for it with a strained grunt which caught his attention. Yet with a swift grab and thrust of your hand, you jammed the blunt handle of the spoon into his throat and screamed at him, your vocal cords ripping in deliriously satisfying pain.

Barely giving him a second to let out a final gasp for air, you flipped him over underneath you and yanked the spoon out, blood erupting out of the gash. Fire ignited in your veins and you balled your fists, giving him a taste of the rage of a caged beast with nothing left to lose, just the desperation to survive for more. It was a symphony of grotesque crunches of bone and ligament, and you yelled, screamed, and cursed with each impact at him, at the entire organization, at a godless world for making you live through hell. A pitiful yet gruesomely satisfying attempt to reclaim what sanity and control you lost in that room.

Blood and flesh coated your fingers like warm syrup, and you were sure your knuckles were split. Crimson red was a good look on a sterile uniform, you thought to yourself. The sight of your work made you realize it wasn't the devil in his eyes was laughing at you, but rather its reflection from over your shoulder, still gleefully singing and squealing with delight as it watched you indulge in pure, unadulterated wrath. Its tail wrapped around your neck, strangling you with delirium and bloodthirst, guiding you in your ear as you beat an already dead man to a pulp.

Taking a stand, its whispers remained in your ear, praising you and yet you felt sick looking at what was left of what you had done, of what was left of the man's face. His blood pooled around his shoulders, mixing with the stew into an unholy concoction, evidence that was a testimony to your suffering and to your sin. Using his combat knife, you cut through the ropes around your wrists, skin scratched raw and bleeding. Without a second glance, you took his gun and left the room.

To this day, you tell yourself that you crawled out of hell that day.

"Any signs of the hostage?" Gaz shouted over comms, holding off a room of enemies alongside Price.

The moment they had all seen your fingers slip from the jeep and saw you tumble away that afternoon was the moment they knew they wouldn't be coming back to base for a long time. Roach had watched in despair as he was so damn close to grabbing your hand, swearing that had he'd been a little quicker, you wouldn't be here. Soap had yelled for Price to go back but Gaz and Ghost both knew his hand wasn't going to turn that wheel anytime soon. All of them knew. They couldn't turn back, and you wouldn't have wanted them to either, not unless the entire team and mission were to be jeopardized. However, that didn't stop them from doing whatever it takes to get you back safe again.

"Negative." Ghost answered over the line, standing with Soap in a hallway painted with the blood of the opposition, bodies scattered like lifeless bags of flesh with no greater purpose than to rot.

"I have eyes on them, they escaped from captivity. Currently pursuing them!" Roach responded. He'd seen your figure run down a hall at an alarming speed, and when he followed you, he had a glimpse of the room and the spectacle you left behind, "The leader is terminated, too. Jesus, can someone get over here?! They're gunning it for the west exit and I can barely keep up!"

You were in fact, bolting for the exits, panicking the more you got lost and running so fast that you probably could've broken a record on base. Distant gunfire and blasts snapped at your heels like a pack of dogs, reminding you that if you didn't keep running, you'd be dead, you'd be torn apart and beaten just like their leader and fed to the wolves. Boots trampled the ground behind you like drums of death, the yelling of men ringing in your ears, a requiem to the inevitable. Run, just run, it's all you could do in this frenzied state. If you didn't you'd be helpless, you'd be put down like a rabid fucking animal. Run, even if your bones shook from the pain, even if flames licked at your torn muscles, even if it meant dying of exhaustion because anything was better than dying at the hands of those animals.

At last, you found the light of an exit, finally an escape from this asylum. Your heart felt lighter when sunlight kissed your skin only to be weighed down by getting slammed into, grabbed into a relentless hold. You screeched, shrieked, snapped, and sneered while the voices seemed relieved, almost happy at your capture.

"Don't fucking touch me-!" You screamed with animosity, practically frothing at the mouth, "Don't fucking touch me I'll fucking kill you! I'll fucking—"

"Friendly, friendly!"

Still growling under your breath, confusion flickered over your eyes. Why did it sound like... like...

"Captain?"

"You're safe kid," Price panted, as if he'd been running to chase you. He was chasing you. In all your hysteria, you hadn't realized that the group had been running after you for past minute or so, trying to call for you, get you to slow down. The only thing that worked was to just grab to and hopefully knock some sense into you or knock you out. "It's just us, see?"

Your gaze softened, taking in the features of the man before you. Despite the crossfire and fighting, somehow he still had such a kind look on him, puppy eyes that pitied you and kept you grounded. Turning your head, you saw the rest of the men watching you in concern, all tired but overjoyed nonetheless that you were finally back.

You were safe.

It was like a weight finally lifted off your chest, a pile of restrained misery and relief washing over you, and you wept without a thought to pride. Price whispered your name in a way that felt so comfortingly familiar, tucking your head into his shoulder and letting you muffle your sobs into his uniform. It was painful to hear your wails, the relief and the instability shaking off of you in waves. A part of you expected to be scolded, to be teased for messing up so badly with a simple mistake as letting go of the jeep but they didn't.

"You're in good hands,"

"We've got them covered,"

"They can't hurt you anymore, love."

"Do you have any major injuries?" Gaz asked, but you couldn't say a thing, clinging onto Price's jacket and crying like you were four years old and found by your parents after getting lost. Slowly and gently, Price pulled you from him to examine you, and that's when he saw it. It didn't take long for the others to notice as well. Your clothes were torn and belt undone. While no physical harm was visible, knowing what happened was enough to make Price tick.

"Roach, get them to the car and give them some spares ASAP. Everyone else with me, we're cleaning out the place." Everyone else had the same dark look in their eyes, one that sent shivers down your spine but encouraged you once more you were secure now. While Roach escorted you away, you peeked back to see them disappear back into the building. After you changed in the car, you could hear the distant gunfire and screams, shutting your eyes closed tight, making an effort to drown out the thoughts.

"You okay?" Roach frowned. he had apologized to you a dozen times over on your way to the car and explained all that happened after you were taken, which you appreciated him for and insisted it wasn't his fault. But he was sweet and stubborn, bandaging your wounds and telling you he'd make it up by giving you his dessert for the next month, a gesture that made you smile for once in a while.

"Yeah, yeah just... hope they're safe." You breathed, sinking into your seat with the rest of your thoughts. Though you cried once more, quietly this time and on Roach's shoulder. He was cautious not to initiate too much physical contact, holding your hand only when you asked for it.

The building was silent, not a single soul left to be reaped by the 141. They all regrouped around a body that was beaten beyond belief, to the point where the face was unrecognizable. Regardless, they knew who it was.

Gaz broke the silence, "You think they did this?" They all looked at each other, not wanting to imagine what happened to lead to this point.

Ghost nodded, a confirmation of something they already knew but wanted to mutually agree on. "No one else could've made this much of a bloody mess. HQ's going to have a field day with this. Can't say that he didn't have it coming for him, though."

"And well deserved, too." Soap spat. Price continued to look down on the figure on the floor without any thought to it. Not anger, disappointment, or spite, just disregard. Headquarters would be interested to hear what happened, but he could care less about the report. All that mattered was that loose ends were tied.

Minutes later, the men all piled up in the car again, setting for the road back. You woke from your half-asleep state, rubbing your eyes. You were met with a soft smile from Soap, who ruffled your hair. "You alright there, sleepin' beauty?"

Humming in acknowledgment, you nodded and glanced out the window to see the road whizzing by, the building growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Some dingy warehouse. So that was the hellhole you were stuck in for a near week.

"Dinnae think 'bout it too much," He followed your gaze and nudged your boot with his, "When we said they can't hurt ye anymore, we meant it."

"Yeah," You quietly mumbled, leaning back on Roach, who had fallen asleep and leaned on Gaz for support. "Can smell it on you guys."

That got a rumbling laugh out of Soap and even a little headshake from Ghost who sat in the passenger seat. Looking at the rearview mirror, Price was looking right back at you, eyes flickering to the road occasionally, "Get some rest. It'll be a long ride home."

You nodded like a little kid with a mumbled "yessir" and drifted off once more. For the first time in forever, you feel like you can breathe and ground yourself, no punishment, no torture, nothing to haunt in this rare bit of calm. You didn't feel the pain of your sore muscles, you didn't feel that your body was filthy, you didn't feel small and scared, not anymore. Just surrounded by nothing but a familiar feeling of safety and lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine that took you home.

a/n pt.2: had a tough time writing this one but hey, I think I managed! to be honest, though, I'm not super confident about the ending and proofread this while half-asleep, but I'd love to hear some thoughts about it. shoutout to the people who noticed any reoccurring themes.

[absurdthirst]

The Wedding Planner {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 28.k

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, lying, developing feelings, almost/barely kiss, guilt, mentions of menstrual productions/periods, sex, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, condoms, cock riding, protected sex, squirting, one night together, goodbyes, cock worship, body worship,

Comments: You are Javier and Lorraine's wedding planner. Feeling incredibly guilty about developing feelings for the handsome sheriff's deputy. Unknowingly becoming the reason that Javier never shows up at the church. Spending the night together and sending him off to the DEA. Only to reunite when you happen to plan his cousin's wedding.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

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

“Red roses with baby’s breath.” You scroll down your checklist as you wait for the couple to arrive.  Wanting to double check everything for them to sign off on since the bride has already changed her mind a few times and you know that this has the potential to backfire and blow up in your face. Wedding planning can be amazing and rewarding and other times….. it can be exasperating, especially this couple. 

Javier Peña and Lorraine Smith, the sheriff’s deputy and the rich girl. It’s bad that you have those snarky thoughts, but you have heard about how the Smith’s are very influential around town. Seen it in the way that the bride flashes a brittle smile and a pointed barb to a few of your vendors. It doesn’t help that every time you meet with them, you have to tamp down your growing attraction to the groom.

Javier sighs as he opens the door to his truck, letting Lorraine out and he sees the way she checks her reflection in the window after he shuts the door for her. He hasn't got time to attend all these wedding appointments but Lorraine is insisting. There's word of a drug haul coming over the Rio Grande and he wants to help the DEA handle it. He is eager to help stop the drug routes but it feels hopeless. Lorraine takes his hand as she walks into your store. It's a little place in a strip mall but it's got all the options on display. Christ, Javier knows he shouldn't find you attractive but you standing there in the middle of the store has his stomach twisting and his cock twitching in his jeans. "Hi!" Lorraine squeals, letting go of his hand to embrace you even though she's criticized you behind closed doors.

“Hi to you!” You let her hug you and return it, but your eyes flutter back to where Javier is awkwardly standing, shuffling and propping his hands on his lean hips. He looks so effortlessly sexy in a pair of jeans and a beautiful blue short sleeved button up. Aviator glasses perched on his nose and made the mustache he sports look even sexier in that Tom Selleck, Burt Reynolds kind of way.

"I know it's been a tight timeline but I want to make sure the caterer knows to get the truffle that I want for the potatoes." Lorraine insists and you nod, looking down at your checklist. "It's ordered and the caterer knows to put it in the mashed potatoes with the steak." You confirm and Lorraine grins, "excellent. We just couldn't wait to be married. I know it's been stressful to do this all so quickly." Javier wants to scoff and tell you why it's a shotgun wedding. Lorraine is pregnant but she doesn't want anyone to know. She's old school and wants her family to think she did things the right way. So of course when she told Javier she was pregnant and showed him the test, he made sure to do the right thing. It's what his ma would've wanted. He proposed and Lorraine has set the wedding date for two months. Enough time for her to not be showing and enough time for Javier to admire the wedding planner before he's a married man. You are gorgeous. Funny, smart, and more organized than the damn sheriff's department. You handle Lorraine with grace and he wants to learn your ways, certain it could help him with his impending marriage to the strong willed woman.

“Oh, we want a truffle butter sauce too.” Lorraine adds and you hum, “I can ask  the caterer, but you know that truffles are expensive.” You remind her, knowing that it will be another add on to the already tight budget. You don’t have to glance over at Javier to know that he’s grimacing. They’ve already had plenty of heated discussions about the amount of money she’s spent on this wedding so far. “We could save that expense to use on the extra candles you want?”

Lorraine turns to look at Javier, “baby. I just want this to be perfect. I will talk to my daddy. He can pay for the difference. He wants the best for his little girl. I can only hope Jay will be as good a daddy for our kids.” Lorraine giggles and Javier bites the inside of his cheek. He hates it when she calls him Jay. No one else does and it’s not his goddamn name. He shakes his head, “we can’t ask your daddy to pay for more of this wedding. I- I can swing it.” Javier promises, looking over at you to nod his consent.

You scribble the note in your book, nodding in agreement even though you think it’s a ridiculous expense. Truffle wasn’t even good in most of the applications, and you didn’t care for the way that the caterer used it with the potatoes. However, it’s not your wedding. “Filet medallions with truffle potatoes and truffle butter and asparagus.” You glance back up at the couple to make sure there aren’t any changes to the menu. Lorraine nods and you bite your lip as you look back down at the list. “And have you decided on your final wedding colors?”

Javier bites his lip, unsure of why he even has to be here. Lorraine has already decided on these details and she damn sure didn’t ask him for his opinion. She beams, “pale yellow and pastel green.” Javier resists wrinkling his nose, knowing the colors are her choice but Jesus, did she have to have such bad taste? “My bridesmaids have already gotten their dresses. My dress is ready for alterations. Just need Jay to get his suit and we should be nearly there. The girls I picked for my bridesmaids will make me look extra pretty if you know what I mean.” Lorraine smirks and Javier scoffs, “isn’t one of my cousins a bridesmaid?” He asks and Lorraine shrugs, “she clearly didn’t get the looks from your gene pool.” Javier shakes his head, clenching his jaw to try and keep his annoyance in. He isn’t doing this for him. He’s doing this for his child. That’s what he keeps reminding himself.

You can tell that Javier is annoyed, his eyes tighten and his jaw does this sexy clench thing that bulges out slightly. It makes him look a little dangerous and you try to ignore the way that your stomach flips. “Do we want a best man?” You ask, realizing you had never talked about that with them. “Groomsmen?”

“Oh, Jay’s best friend is serving overseas. He won’t be here for the wedding and my baby isn’t one for social events.” Lorraine coos, caressing Javier’s chest and he stiffens under her touch. “I have friends in the sheriff’s office. I couldn’t invite them because you insisted on inviting so many from your side. I had to make sacrifices.” He says through slightly clenched teeth. Lorraine has railroaded him down the aisle without a say in the damn wedding. He barely managed to get his family invited to make way for her nail tech and her husband.

Your eyes flicker back over to Javier and his own dark eyes seem to communicate his unhappiness, but there is nothing you can do. “Do you want me to make an appointment with the tailor?” You ask the couple. “Classic black tuxedo or suit?”

“Tuxedo.” Lorraine answers for him and Javier frowns. He wanted to wear his cowboy boots. A true Texas wedding. Lorraine wants something less Laredo and more Dallas. He knows it’s best to not argue so he nods his agreement and you nod, “I’ll make your appointment.” Lorraine tilts her head, “make sure it’s the best in town. I don’t want a tin pot tailor.”

You smile blandly, almost insulted by the comment. “Of course.” You assure her, as if you would not work with the best. “That’s all that I have on my list.” You glance down again and make another little note. “Is there anything else either of you need? Javier?” You hate how the groom gets shoved aside and he looks frankly miserable.

“I was wondering if we could do a photo of my mom. On a chair in the ceremony.” He asks and you nod, a soft smile on your face. “Of course.” Lorraine frowns, “baby…we have limited space at the front and my sister is bringing her boyfriend. She asked if he could sit so we need every seat we can get. You don’t mind if he sits on your side?” Javier frowns, “in the front row?” Lorraine nods, “yeah.” Javier shakes his head, “instead of my mom’s photo?” He asks incredulously.

You bite your lip, watching as Lorraine skips over Javier’s wishes like they don’t matter. “Baby, don’t fight me on this please?” She begs, pouting in an exaggerated manner and you want to roll your eyes at her blatant attempts to manipulate. “If you’d like, we can have a photo on a stand at the end of the front row?” You offer, wanting to give him what he wants. “It wouldn’t take a chair and it would keep her photo in your sight when looking out at the guests.”

Javier bites his lip, grateful to you for considering his wishes, and he nods, “that would be great.” Lorraine wants to argue that it will ruin the symmetry but she knows when to pick her battles with Javier. She caresses his chest, smiling at you, while Javier keeps his dark gaze on you. He wonders what you’d say to your fiance if he requested a photo of his mom on a chair. He’s certain you’d say yes. From what he’s seen, you appear to be a beautiful person inside and out. He wishes Lorraine could be considerate and loving but she clearly only loves herself. He’s an accessory to her. Something to own and show off about. He was taken in by her, still grieving his mom, and she was fun. A distraction. One that took a turn.

“Javier, if you will get me the photo you want displayed and her name, I will make sure that the display is tasteful and honorific.” You promise, feeling the weight of his gaze and having to look away for fear of your attraction to him becoming obvious. You already feel your cheeks heating up.

Javier swears he sees your eyes darken and he blinks and the gaze is gone. His stomach twists at the mere idea that you could be attracted to him but Lorraine distracts him by dragging him over to the displays. “I want us to write our own vows.” She tells Javier, touching the vow keepsake on the wall. “I want to hear how much you love me.”

You move over to your desk, trying to settle your nerves and give the couple some privacy. You’ve never been this attracted to a groom before and it rattles you. Sure, you’ve thought some were attractive, or even sweet, but none of them have made you nervous like Javier does. Feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush and it bothers you. It’s unprofessional. You sit down and start to make a list of the calls you need to make tomorrow, knowing that this wedding needs to be finalized quickly. Once Javier is married, the attraction will fizzle away. At least, that’s what you hope.

Javier glances over at you, watching you as you make notes and he half listens as Lorraine rattles on about the last minute details. She’s only twelve weeks pregnant but the wedding is coming up fast and Javier wants to bolt. Christ, he doesn’t want this but he has to follow through. He has to do the right thing.

From the way that Javier is staring off into space when you look up, you know that he’s not paying attention to Lorraine. You wonder how the hell they ever made it to this point, considering that he doesn’t seem to be enthusiastic about this wedding, although she had said he wasn’t much of a social creature.

It doesn’t take long to wrap up the meeting and Javier offers you a nod and a smile as Lorraine gushes over you, hugging you and making you promise this is going to be the best wedding you’ve ever planned. Javier takes her hand and guides her back out into the hot Texas sun. “This wedding is going to be the talk of the town for years to come.” She boasts and Javier hums, unlocking his truck as he resists the urge to look back at your place.

****

“Whiskey. Neat.” Javier orders, tapping his fingers on the counter after he takes a seat at the bar. It’s rough and ready, sawdust and peanut shells on the floor along with the odd cigarette butt while country music plays on the jukebox. Lorraine would never be caught dead in here and that’s what Javier is relying on. He doesn’t want to go home to her and he needs a drink. He lost a high school kid today to an OD. Fucking cocaine. The kid died in his arms when he tried to save him while the paramedics were on their way but it was too late. The cartels are winning and killing innocent people and there’s nothing he can do. He pulls his cigarettes out of his pocket, thanking the bartender when the glass is set down in front of him, and Javier curses as he tries to find his lighter.

“This round is on me.” You promise, grinning as you push away from the pool table after laying your stick down. Turning to the bar, you see a familiar set of shoulders and look around for Lorraine. When you don’t see her, you’re a little relieved that you might not have to talk about wedding details. Walking over and smirking when you see Javier fishing for a lighter. “Here.” You offer, reaching into your pocket for your zippo when you lean against the bar beside him. “Looks like you need that smoke.”

Javier is surprised by your appearance, his eyebrows raising as he puffs on the cigarette and he reaches up to hold it as he exhales the smoke. “Thanks. Didn’t think you smoked?” He says, tilting his head and you chuckle, “I don’t. I just - I use it for candles for weddings. Always have a lighter.” You confess and Javier chuckles, tapping the smoke on the ashtray. “Always prepared. Guess that’s what makes you the best wedding planner in town.” He smirks, reaching for his drink.

His compliment makes you grin and you turn towards the bartender as he walks back over. “Another round of Budweisers.” You order before you watch him take a healthy swallow of his whiskey. “And another round for him.” You add, thinking that he might need it after essentially killing most of his drink already. “Lorraine meeting you here?” You ask.

Javier shakes his head, lifting the cigarette to have another drag, “she’s with her mom going over the final alteration for the dress. I got kicked out and uh, it was a rough day at work so I needed a drink. I should be buying you a drink for putting up with Lorraine’s demands.” He chuckles and exhales the smoke from the side of his mouth.

“Nahhhhh.” You shift slightly, turning towards him as you frown slightly. He looks upset, or sad. Either one almost makes him look annoyed if it wasn’t for his eyes. “You look like you need it more than me.” You murmur softly. You know he’s a cop, so whatever happened had to be bad. “Wanna talk about it? Or just drink?”

He knows he should go to his pa's or at least finish his drink and leave but your eyes are soft and inviting. He feels comforted by just your presence and he sighs, taking another sip of his drink. "Lost a teenager today to coke. I tried to give CPR but he was gone." He confesses, "I feel like the drugs are endless. Whenever we have a bust, there's another mule bringing more across the river. It's an endless fight."

“Oh god.” Your heart shatters and you reach over to lay your hand on Javier’s arm. “I am so sorry, Javier.” You murmur softly. “I can’t even imagine how much that hurts.” You know that he has to be blaming himself for not saving the kid even though there was nothing he could do beyond what he had tried.

“It’s - I feel like it never ends. I want to do more to stop it. I see so many people dying from drugs and I want to help save lives.” He confesses, “I was considering joining the DEA.” He admits, “I got the application from work but I’m not sure.”

“Do you think that you would be able to better help there?” You ask seriously, knowing that Lorraine has talked about when she convinces Javier to leave the sheriff’s department. “If you think you can, maybe you should do it.”

Javier sighs, "Lorraine wants me to quit the sheriff's office to go work with her daddy in his furniture stores. I don't - I'm not a salesman. I want to get these assholes who are killing innocent people." He murmurs, sucking on his cigarette.

“You can’t do that.” You shake your head, reaching for the beers that the bartender brings back over along with the new glass of whiskey for Javier. “If you do that, you’ll end up resenting her for making you change your career.” You tell him. “Hang on for a second. Let me deliver these beers and I’ll be right back.” You don’t want to stop talking with him since he needs a shoulder to lean on but you need to tell the guys you were playing pool with that your sitting out the next few games.

Javier nods, thanking the bartender, and he squashes his cigarette in the ashtray as you come over to the bar again. "You don't have to babysit me, hermosa, if you are out with your friends." He says and you shake your head, "it's not babysitting." He snorts until he softens, turning to look at you. "Thank you." He murmurs, knowing you are trying to be a good person. "It's just been a lot. With the wedding and Lorraine and the - well, I- it's been a rollercoaster."

“I understand.” You tell yourself that you are just providing support for the upcoming groom. Ignoring the way your step seems to bounce as you walk back towards the pool tables, almost giddy to talk to Javier alone.

Your perfume is light and fresh as you settle on the barstool next to him, and he finds himself comparing it to Lorraine's heavy and sweet perfume that she got for Christmas for herself on his card that makes him slightly nauseous. Thankfully she hasn't been wearing it lately. "So...are you planning any other weddings?" He asks, eager to hear you talk a little more.

You laugh. “I am.” You admit, leaning against the bar and taking a sip of your beer. “I’ve got three that are coming up in the next month, and several that are over the next four months.” You are proud of the business that you have slowly been building. “With more women working, having a wedding planner makes things easier for them.” You shrug. “I’ve also planned parties for companies, so I do pretty much anything someone pays me to do.”

He can't help but be impressed. You are impressive, managing all those events, dealing with impatient brides. He smiles and hums, taking a sip of his whiskey, and he pauses after he swallows. "How many weddings have a groom that isn't sure if he wants to get married?" He asks quietly, his dark eyes meeting yours.

It’s a loaded question and one that you need to tread lightly on. His unhappiness seems to pour from his eyes and you don’t want to make him feel like he has to do this. “Quite a few.” You admit honestly. “Sometimes it’s just due to nerves, fears of the future.” You sigh. “Other times…..” you trail off and take another sip of your beer and let his imagination fill in the rest.

****

Javier snorts as he sets his empty glass down. You’ve had a few rounds and he feels relaxed, the horror of his work day pushed aside while you make him laugh at a story of a groom who was so drunk he fell into the wedding cake. “Shit. Lorraine would probably kill me if I did that.” He murmurs and you reach out to touch his arm, “the bride was furious but she laughed. The groom fucked up but she loves him so she let it go. That’s what marriage is, right? Forgiving the other when they mess up because you love them.” You say and Javier taps his fingers on the counter, knowing that Lorraine would probably annul their marriage if he fell into a cake. “Yeah. I guess so.” He sighs, “this guy at the station got married a few months ago. We took him out for a bachelor night and of course he wanted to go to the strip club. We went, sat down and ordered drinks, and they announced the first dancer…his face when the girl came out on stage…it was his sister. He didn’t know she was a dancer. Too scared to tell him.” Javier snorts, shaking his head, “he just about had a heart attack.”

“Oh my god.” Your eyes widen as you start to laugh. “Talk about ruining his entire night. He just wanted to see some tits, but not his sisters!” Javier throws his head back and laughs, exposing the long column of his throat at that gorgeous Adam’s Apple. You have to stare, realizing you’ve never seen him laugh like this before, the sound making your stomach flip and your cunt clench around nothing.

Javier chuckles as his laughter settles down and he nods, “he was mortified and took her home. That was the first stop, so bachelor night was cut pretty short.” He turns to look at you after glancing along the bar. “The guys are planning on making it up on my night.” He says and you smile, “it will be epic then.” Javier nods and turns to look at you, “how the hell have you not planned your own wedding yet?” He asks, confused how someone like you is single.

“You know that old saying that those that can’t do, teach?” You ask, rolling your eyes. “I’ve just never found someone that is willing to put up with me, I guess.” You shrug, feeling a little vulnerable.

Javier nods, his eyes burning into yours as he sees the vulnerability there. “Well, I’m sure you’ll meet someone who thinks you are worth putting up with.” He promises, reaching out to touch your hand that’s on the counter.

You don’t think about how inappropriate it is, or how he’s just being polite. Your attraction to Javier makes you lean in to kiss him before you can catch yourself. It’s only when his eyes widen slightly in shock do you realize what you are doing and jump back guiltily. “Oh God. I- I should go.” You stammer out quickly, embarrassed at how big of an ass you are. He’s getting married, he’s a client and you just tried to kiss him. Standing up, you reach into your pocket to pull out money to cover your tab. “I’m so sorry.”

Javier doesn't get a chance to say anything as you rush off and he frowns, his lips tingling from the brief touch of your lips on his, and he sighs. He can't say anything to Lorraine to risk your job but also, he wants to keep this secret. For a brief moment, Javier had a glimpse into a life without Lorraine and he liked it. Just as he considers going after you, the bartender comes over and tells him he has a call. "It's Lorraine." The bartender says and Javier sighs, reaching for his wallet to throw some bills down before he walks to the phone, knowing Lorraine will be chasing him to come home.

****

“Just pretend he is any other groom.” Since that night, you have steered clear of the bar, of the gas station where the cigarettes are the cheapest. Any place that Javier Peña might be. Wallowing in shame, you had halfway expected a screeching call from Lorraine to fire you. Relieved when you hadn’t and hating that you put Javier in that position. Now, one week from their wedding, they are on their way to your office and you are nervous about seeing him again.

Javier opens the door for Lorraine as the bell above your door rings to announce your presence. “Oh Jay. Look at these.” Lorraine rushes over to the mock table to admire the new gold chargers you got in the other day. “Hmmm.” Javier acknowledges her as she admires the table but it’s already been decided and he’s not ready to start the process again.

You swallow down the urge to flee, not even looking at Javier as you stand up and walk over to Lorraine. “One week to go.” You feign excitement, knowing every bride is looking forward to their big day.

Lorraine is beaming as she nods at you, "one week to go until I can call this handsome man mine." She winks at Javier but he doesn't react. Lorraine takes no notice of his lack of excitement and she walks over to where you have a mock set up of the table placement. "I just want you to confirm this is what you want and how you want it." You say and Lorraine eyes the setting while Javier shoves his hands in his jeans. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a small smile, wanting you to know it's okay even though he's really been thinking about that kiss every damn minute. As brief as it was, it consumed him and that made him anxious because he's getting married next week.

You nod awkwardly, trying to keep your demeanor professional, even though you are dying inside. “You know, I don’t think I like the flowers.” You barely resist the urge to groan, knowing that Lorraine had insisted on this arrangement. She had sign off on it. “It’s the red roses with baby’s breath, like you ordered.”

Javier wants to scream as Lorraine changes her mind again. “Baby.” He walks over to her, “I thought you wanted red roses with baby’s breath? Remember? Your cousin had them and you told me you wanted more than her.” He says, knowing that reminding Lorraine of how much she loves to be better than others will get her to agree to this without creating more work for you.

“I know, but it looks a little plain, doesn’t it?” She tilts her head as she looks at the centerpiece. You had made sure that everything was perfect and the were full. “I saw a floral arrangement where there were red, white and pink roses.” You don’t show how frustrated you are, listening to her as she rambles. “I think we should do that.” Shaking your head, you disagree. “I think it would take attention away from your wedding colors.”

Lorraine’s head spins so fast to look at you you swear she nearly breaks her neck. “I want this to be perfect. You want to it to be perfect, right baby?” She coos as she turns to look at Javier who nods and offers you a soft smile, “yes of course but it will clash with the colors you’ve picked. Let’s stick with what you picked. I think you’ll love it on the day.” He says, trying to calm her down.

“No, I want red, pink and white roses.” Lorraine hisses, slapping away Javier’s hand when he reaches for hers. You cut your eyes away and clear your throat. “The flowers have been ordered.” You remind her gently. “Last minute changes will be costly. Especially white and pink roses.”

Javier clenches his jaw, knowing that Lorraine is being completely unreasonable but he knows that provoking her will make this worse. “Fine. How much? I’ll pay for it.” Javier says through gritted teeth, not wanting to ask her daddy to pay for anything else. He’s already ragging on Javier for not making enough money to support Lorraine…he doesn’t even know the whole story.

You wince, knowing that it won’t be cheap, “I’ll have to call the florist, but with the arrangements we have, probably another $600.”

Javier winces at the amount. That’s way more than he imagined but Lorraine is looking at him like he hung the moon and she’s been reminding him that she can’t get stressed out so he nods, reaching for his wallet to write you a check.

You know the florist is going to be upset, but you will buy her a bottle of wine and help her redesign the arrangements. Javier scribbles his name and rips it out of the book, holding it out to you. You hesitate, biting your lip and Lorraine giggles. “Go ahead and take it. It’ll clear, I know he’s good for it.” She coos, reaching out to caress his chest.

Javier tilts his head slightly, wanting to ask if you can wait a couple of days until his payday but he doesn’t. He will ask his Pa for a loan until he’s paid and then pay him back. He’s tired of how much this wedding has cost and he’s a proud man. He doesn’t want to owe Lorriane’s family a dime. He wants to be his own man.

“It’s going to be a few days,” you tell him, folding the check over after taking it out of his hands. “I don’t pay for the flowers until they arrive.” What you don’t say is that you want to wait until Lorraine cannot possibly make any more changes.

Javier nods, a little relieved, and Lorraine squeals, leaning in to kiss him. “I can’t wait for the wedding. I have so many family members coming into town. They are so excited to see me.” She grins and your frown catches Javier’s eyes as Lorraine rushes back over to the table. He had to sacrifice his own family member’s invites to make way for Lorraine’s.

You swallow, unsure of what to say to him, so you don’t say anything until he murmurs your name. “Javier.” You rush out at the same time and then there’s that awkward pause but you push forward. “Have you finalized your fittings with the tailor?” You ask, reminding yourself that this mind is getting married in seven days.

He nods, “yeah. I, uh, I’m due to go in on Tuesday for the final fitting.” He explains and you nod, “good. That’s perfect.” Lorraine smiles at you, a little unnerving, but she wants everything to be perfect. She wants the town to talk about this wedding for years to come.

“Is there anything else we need to discuss?” You ask. “The seating chart is set and the venue will set up the sweetheart table instead of a family style wedding party table.”

Lorraine squeals again, “it’s going to be incredible and I get to make this gorgeous man mine. All mine.” She leans in to kiss Javier and his mind flashes back to the kiss you put on his lips. Fuck, it’s hard to not be reminded of it every time he looks at you. He swallows down that feeling, shoving it from his mind as he kisses Lorraine on her hair. “It’s going to be amazing.” He agrees but it doesn’t sound authentic to his own ears

“Amazing.” You agree, clapping your hands together after a moment of awkward silence. “Well, I know you two probably have a lot to do, getting ready for your big day, so I’ll let you two get at it.” It sounds embarrassing and awkward, but you just give them a smile.

Lorraine grins, “yes. Lots to do.” She smirks at Javier who offers her a bland smile. She wants sex which is strange because she hasn’t fucked him since the night he proposed. He loves sex, craves it, but he never pushes himself on his partner. He has waited for her to come back to him and apparently tonight is that night. “I’ll see you soon.” You promise and Javier nods, thanking you as he takes Lorraine’s hand to guide her from your place.

When they leave, you sit down at your desk and sigh. One more week and you can put all of this behind you. Javier will be married and starting his perfect life with Lorraine. You just need to make it through.

****

Javier exhales as he adjusts his suit jacket. He stares in the mirror as he takes in the sight of his wedding attire. Today is the day. The day he’s going to marry Lorraine. He sighs, rubbing his freshly shaven chin and he’s anxious. His pa is getting ready and Javier feels like he needs some fresh air before he heads to the church. “Pa! I’m going to get some air. I’ll meet you at the church!” He calls out and Chucho chuckles as he lowers his razor. He knows that his son isn’t marrying the love of his life today. He remembers when he married Maria. He could hardly contain his excitement. Hell, he would’ve eloped if he could. Javier slams the door to his truck, taking a moment before he turns the key to start the engine and he reaches for his pack of cigarettes. “Shit.” He groans. He’s out. He decides to head to the store he knows will be open on a Sunday. His usual place will be closed for church.

“Shit, shit.” You had been dragged into the bridal suite at the church to quell another crisis. The fifth one of the day, but this one has a time crunch. There aren’t a lot of stores open today and it’s just your damn luck that the extra supply of tampons you keep in your purse is gone. Now you are hunting down a box for the bride since she just started. “Where the hell is the fucking tampon aisle?” You hiss, unfamiliar with the layout of this store.

Javier strides to the front, pulling out his wallet, and the cashier tilts his head, nodding when Javier grunts “Marlboros.” He points to the pack he wants and the cashier nods, working on getting the pack and ringing him up. Javier taps his fingers on the counter and he turns his head just as you come barreling towards the cash register. He says your name, eyes wide and he looks down at the box of tampons in your hand, raising his eyebrows.

Your eyes widen in surprise to find Javier standing in the store in his wedding tuxedo. He looks damn good and it makes your cheeks burn when he looks down at the box in your hand. “Oh they aren’t for me!” You blurt out, resisting the urge to hide the box behind your back. You’re a grown ass woman for Christ’s sake. “Lorraine started her period, so don’t be surprised if she’s not feeling up for anything tonight.” You wince again, knowing that wasn’t very helpful to blurt that out, but he is about to marry her today. Surely he’s been disappointed when she was on her period.

Javier is frozen. He frowns, his gaze flicking down to the box in your hand. “I’m sorry. You said - you said Lorraine started her period?” He asks, eyes wide when he looks at you in shock. “Yeah?” You frown, confused, “she said she needed them right away so she didn’t get blood on her dress.” Javier shakes his head, glancing around the store and his eyes meet yours as he shakily inhales. “Lorraine is supposed to be fifteen weeks pregnant.”

“Oh….oh god.” At first, your heart drops. Thinking that Lorraine is going through something horrible until you remember what she said. “How? She said that she hated being on her period during her bachelorette weekend.” You had to listen to her complain about her plans being ruined and you had just assumed she had meant the wedding night and honeymoon activities.

Javier shakes his head, “unbelievable.” He can’t believe it. She’s lied to him. He saw the scan. She went to the doctor alone because he had to work and he believed her. He fucking proposed because she got pregnant. “Fuck.” He growls in anger and he shakes his head, turning to the cashier who has wide eyes. “Pen and paper.” Javier demands and the cashier hands it to him with shaky hands. He scribbles a note and hands it to you. “Give this to her.” He orders, grabbing his cigarettes, “and take her the damn tampons.” He throws some cash down for the box, his heart pounding and his blood boiling as he strides out of the store.

You are so confused and your heart is pounding in your chest. The sinking feeling that you had just done something horrible settles in your stomach and you quickly pay for the tampons and rush out to your car. You want to read the folded note, but you can’t. It wouldn’t be right. “Shit.” You huff, knowing you have to go give Lorraine this letter and instinctively knowing it’s not good.

Lorraine is admiring herself in the mirror when you return and she turns to look at you. “About time. Took forever to get some damn tampons.” She scoffs and the bridesmaids giggle despite their puffy dresses that make most people wince. “So-sorry. I, uh, bumped into Javier and he gave me a note to give you.” You say, setting the box of tampons down after giving her the note. Lorraine grins, grabbing the note and she turns to look at the others, “probably a note to tell me how much he can’t wait to marry me. He’s a secret romantic.” She coos and opens the note. Her smile falls as she reads and then re-reads the note. It says ‘I know there’s no baby, Lorraine. It’s over. I’m not marrying you today.’ She gasps, crumbling the paper, and she looks at the box of tampons and then to you. “Did he see these?” You choke, unable to answer, and Lorraine screams, tossing the box across the room. “What’s happened?” Her maid of honor asks and Lorraine turns to them. “Javier has run off. He told me he can’t marry me. He’s left me at the altar!” She starts to sob, desperate to garner sympathy for this.

You sigh softly, knowing that you will need to be the one to tell the guests that have started gathering that there won’t be a wedding. You step back as the bridesmaids swarm around Lorraine and coo, immediately bashing Javier for being too much of a coward to face you himself.

Javier doesn’t know what he’s doing. He drives and drives until he stops at the only phone box in town. He curses as he grabs some change and pulls the piece of paper out of his jacket that was written on the letter he received a few days ago. He was going to throw it in the trash, considering it a pipe dream that would never happen, but was nice to know it was possible. He taps his fingers on top of the metal box as the line rings and they answer. “Houston DEA office.” Javier gives the name of the letter sender and he’s connected through after a few beeps. “Hi, it’s Javier Peña. When can I start?” He asks, feeling this is the right thing to do in his gut.

It’s hours later before you pull up to your house. Exhausted and wrung out from the questions, tears and blame that had been bandied about. Mr. Peña, Javier’s father, had walked into a shit storm when he arrived at the church. You had quickly shuffled him out the door and explained the options. There wasn’t any way to get any money back from the wedding, so you had suggested they go enjoy the reception and eat the food and drink the booze. Luckily enough, the guests liked the idea and Lorraine had been escorted from the church, weeping, by her parents. You sigh as you gather up your purse to go into the house, eager to strip off your dress and soak in a well deserved bath.

Javier doesn’t know why he’s here. He called the office and got the address, ignoring the questions of why he wasn’t currently getting married. He parked up and he’s pacing, the sun beating down on his face as he takes a drag of his cigarette. When your car pulls into the driveway, he exhales the smoke and tosses it to the ground, snubbing it out with his polished dress shoe.

Getting out of your car, you toggle your keys in your hand to find your house key. Eager to get inside and take off the practical flats you wear when working. Someone saying your name captures your attention and you turn to find Javier hurrying towards you. “Javi!” You gasp out in surprise to find him in front of your house. “What are you doing here?”

He stares at you, seeing the compassionate glaze in your eyes and he can’t help it. He surges forward to cup your cheeks, his lips meeting yours in a kiss he’s imagined so many times since you pecked his lips at the bar.

Any questions die when he presses his lips to yours. The small squeak of surprise turning into a groan when he takes advantage of that to slide his tongue inside your mouth, your hands coming up to grab his shoulders, to either push him away or pull him closer you couldn’t decide, but you ultimately press your body as close to him as you can and give into the attraction you have for him, kissing him back just as eagerly.

He groans, his entire body lighting up, and he has never felt this way when he kissed Lorraine. He pulls you closer until he realizes that you’re outside and he needs to strip you down, hear you moan his name like he’s ashamedly imagined. He reluctantly pulls back, your lips chasing his until he nudges your nose with his own, needing you to take a beat. “Baby. Baby. Keys. Inside.” He demands, “if you want. If not, if not I’ll leave now.”

You search his gaze, finding need and lust swirling in the dark depths of his eyes. You should feel guilty, knowing that you contributed to him not showing up to that church tonight, but you just take a shake breath and nod. “Inside. Yes.”

He steps back, allowing you to walk to the front door to unlock it with your keys. Your hands shake a little and he keeps his hands to himself until you push the door open. His hands find your hips and he pushes you further into your home, kicking the door shut, and he wastes no time pushing you up against the wall of your hallway, his lips finding yours again.

You moan into the kiss. Reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulder and give into the need that you had felt for him. You know that this is wrong, that you should be talking to Javier rather than kissing him, but you can’t stop.

He's grateful he took the bow tie and tuxedo jacket off in his truck so your hands can explore his back over the thin material of his shirt. His tongue sliding back into your mouth and his hands are everywhere, finding your ass to squeeze the flesh, pulling you against his hardening cock.

You can feel him growing against your hip, making you moan into his mouth. Your fingers pull at the crisp white shirt, dragging it free from the neatly tucked in edges under his pants.

He feels like he's been consumed by desire for you. Every sordid thought he's ever had and felt guilty about is surfacing and his hand slides up your thigh, under your dress. His fingers play with the cotton of your underwear and he slides his digits along to press against your clit through the material.

You shiver and moan again. Feeling the firm pressure of his fingers and knowing that this man is talented. There’s no hesitation in his touch, just the eagerness to hear you make a sound for him, considering how his cock twitched in his pants when you moaned.

You are damp through the material and that makes him groan your name. His lips press against your jaw while your hands slide along his back under his shirt until you start to fumble with the buttons. "Fuck, hermosa." He murmurs when your palms slide against his bare skin while his fingers rub your clit.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You pant, trying to reason with him and yourself even as your fingers pluck the buttons from their slots. “You were supposed to be married by now.” Javier snorts and his teeth nip your pulse, making you whimper. “But I’m not married.” He points out.

He knows this is sudden. He just left Lorraine at the altar and now he's here. You should slap him, tell him to fuck off. Instead, you're grinding into his touch and caressing his skin. "I want you." Javier murmurs, "haven't stopped thinking about that kiss in the bar."

“Me either.” You admit breathlessly. “I shouldn’t be so attracted to you. You are - were - engaged.” You flick the end of his belt open. “But I want you so bad it hurts.”

“I’m not engaged anymore. I told her in that note that it’s over. It was before I found out she was pregnant.” He confesses, “I was trying to do the right thing. This feels like the right thing.” He groans, pulling his hand away to grab the hem of your dress and he leans back from you so he can pull it over your head.

“Fucking against the door of my house feels like the right thing?” You laugh, pulling his belt open and freeing it from the loops of his pants. “I have a bed.”

“No. Fucking a woman I haven’t been able to stop thinking about and not marrying the one that lied to me about being pregnant is the right thing.” He clarifies and tosses your dress to the floor. “Bed. Now.” He orders, needing you to guide him to your bedroom.

You grin at his order, enjoying the way his raspy voice drops roughly. It makes your cunt clench as you slide by him, reaching down and squeezing his cock briefly. “Come on and I’ll show you what I’ve been thinking about.”

Javier groans your name, toeing off his shoes before following you down the hall, and when you open your bedroom door, he’s shrugging off his shirt. You turn towards him and his breath catches when he sees you standing there with eager eyes. “Hermosa.” He murmurs, stepping closer to kiss you again.

You lick your lips, reaching up and caressing the smooth, tanned skin of his chest. He’s lean and strong, muscle sinewy under your fingertips. “You are beautiful.” You breathe out, body tense with need. You lean in and press your lips to his neck before he can kiss you.

He groans when you kiss him so softly, his hands gripping your waist and he slowly walks you backwards towards your bed while his fingers fumble with the clasp of your bra. “Want to see all of you.” He murmurs against your chin as he drags it down your arms. He groans at the sight of your tits and he wastes no time ducking his head, his hand cupping your breast to tilt it so he can take your nipple into his mouth.

You moan, loving how eagerly he touches you. How it’s not just stripping you down to slide inside you. He sucks and flicks his tongue over the hard nipple, making you whimper in pleasure as you run your fingers through his hair, the crunch of the hair gel and hair spray making you giggle.

He wishes you could run your fingers through his hair but his hair is slicked back for the day for what was supposed to be wedding photos. He groans as you grip his shoulders and he sucks on your nipple, biting down before he switches to the other one.

You whine his name, loving how attentive he is to your body. Groaning against your tit and continuing to suckle like he is a man starved. Lorraine is a beautiful woman so you have to be proud of the fact that this man wants you. His hard cock digs into your thought and you reach down between you to slip your hand in his pants and you hum when you find no underwear and wrap your fingers around his cock.

He hisses against your skin and you fumble to unbutton his pants, shoving them down a little before you take his cock in your hand once more. “Lay down.” He rasps, needing to see all of you. You reluctantly let go of his cock and lay down, allowing him to shove his pants down and kick them aside, stumbling as he peels off his socks. He’s fully naked in front of you and his gaze is dark as he reaches out to hook his fingers in your panties.

Biting your lip, you lift your hips and let him drag them down. They aren’t sexy, they are just practical cotton, comfortable for work but you don’t think he cares. He tosses them aside and groans as he looks down at you. His cock twitches and you get the best view in the world as he reaches down and squeezes his cock before he slowly starts to stroke himself. “Fuck.” You moan, reaching out with your foot to run along his calf. “I want you Javier.”

He nods, happy you are as eager for him as he is for you. He grabs your calf, letting go of his cock to slide his hand along your leg until he is pushing your thighs apart. “Wanna taste you.” He murmurs, shifting to kneel between your thighs and he presses kisses to your skin as he works his way up to your cunt.

“You don’t have to do that.” You promise, trying to close your legs, but his broad shoulders are wedged between them, keeping them open. “Javi-“ you whine. “I haven’t shaved.” You hate shaving, but your ex boyfriend would barely touch you if you didn’t have everything nearly bare. And he never wanted to go down on you, complaining that he didn’t like it.

Javier scoffs, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pushes your thighs apart. “I don’t care about that.” He promises, knowing that Lorraine was meticulous about shaving or waxing but he didn’t care. She became boring during sex, laying there and he lost his passion for her. Right now, there’s passion burning inside him and he is starving for you. He leans in, sliding his tongue through your folds without hesitation .

You gasp in complete awe as he starts to devour you. His dark eyes flickering up to your face and then down to your heaving tits as you open for him. Your stiff legs relax and fall open even more, yielding to whatever he wants as long as he keeps going. It’s been so long since someone touched you with such desire. “Javi.”

He doesn’t have forever to spend between your legs, he has places to go, but right now, he takes his time to slide his tongue through your folds. Flicking it over your clit and he loves the strangled cry that escapes your lips as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Oh god.” You moan and roll your hips down to his tongue, wanting more. Still, you want him inside you more. “Javi, baby, you need to fuck me.” You beg, fumbling for the nightstand to pull out a condom. You haven’t had sex in a long time, but you believe in being safe.

He was going to ask if you had a condom. He’s been with Lorraine and he doubts she cheated on him but he wants you to be safe. He pulls away from your cunt, licking his lips, and he shifts to kneel between your spread thighs, hand held out for the condom.

You could cry in relief when you grab the foil packet. Practically flinging it at him and lunging up to wrap your hand around his cock and pumping it as he rips open the condom. He twitches in your hand, making you groan. “I want to suck your cock .” You decide.

“No. No. Wanna be inside you.” He says, batting your hand away so he can roll the condom down his length. He’s so fucking eager for you. He’s twitching as he grips himself and shuffles closer to you. “Are you sure?” He asks, his gaze meeting yours.

Your eyes meet his and you don’t hesitate. “Yes.” You pant, leaning in and pressing your lips to his as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and drag him back down to the bed with you. His other arm braces his weight so he doesn’t crush you and your legs immediately lift up to his hips as he falls into place between your thighs perfectly.

He reaches between you to grip his cock, positioning himself at your entrance, and he slowly starts to sink into you. “Fuck.” He exhales, his gaze flicking between watching his cock disappear into you and your face as he stretches you out.

Your eyes slip closed in bliss as he slides inside you. The thickness chasing away the lonely voids and any sense of guilt or doubt as he fills you. The pinch of pain mixing with the pleasure, making you groan in awe of Javier Peña fucking you. “Oh fuck.”

He exhales shakily as he fills you to the hilt and he takes a breath before he starts to move. It’s slow at first, your whimpers making him twitch inside you, but he is soon picking up the pace to push deep into your pussy. His hand shifting to squeeze your tit.

Every thrust of his hips feels like magic to you. Pushing, filling, only to make you lift your hips to beg for him back when he draws back again. Your nails start the slow, deep drags down his back, digging in when he hits perfectly as you moan. “Fuck, baby, so good.” You whine. “More, harder.”

He can’t deny you. This is more than he’s ever felt when he’s been with other women. You bring something out of him that has him ravenous. He groans your name and fucks you harder, his skin slapping against yours as grunts escape his lips.

You take everything, loving how he’s slowly starting to lose control. The dark pleasure in his eyes is made even hotter by the clench of his jaw. The way his teeth snap together when you clench down around him. Both of you need this, that is obvious and you make sure that you aren’t passive, wanting him to feel just as needed as you feel right now.

Your legs wrap around him, pushing him deeper into your cunt, and Javier pants, loving it. “Fuck, hermosa.” He wants you to cum for him. Adjusting the angle, he grinds his pelvis against your clit, needing to hear you fall apart.

“Oh fuck, fuck Javi.” Your eyes roll back as he changes the angle. Pressing into you perfectly and making your body sing with every roll of his hips. “I’m so close.”

He leans closer to press kisses to your jaw up to your ear, “cum for me, baby.” He demands and you cry out as you clamp down on his cock. “Shit.” He hisses at how tight you grip his cock and he tries to work you through it. Your nails dig into his skin but he doesn’t care. He slows down and kisses your neck. “So fucking good.” He murmurs and he shifts to roll over, bringing you with him. “Want you to ride me. Take what you want.” He orders, smacking your ass.

You are sprawled on top of him, your entire body limp with pleasure but you want to feel more. Kissing him, you push up off his chest, groaning at how deep he feels from this angle. “You just want to watch my tits bounce.” You tease, taking his hands and bringing them up to your breasts as you start to swivel your hips.

He chuckles, squeezing your tits and pushing them together as you start to move on top of him. “Baby, want to watch all of you bounce on top of me. Fuck. So fucking pretty.” He groans, cock twitching inside you as you rock your hips.

You’ve never felt sexier. Javier twitches and groans as you start to pick up the pace. His thighs spreading and squeezing together under you as he lifts his hips slightly, chasing the tight heat of your cunt. This is obviously a man who loves sex and you can see why. He feels incredible. “Fuck baby, so good. Fuck you have such a good cock.”

He loves your praise, his hands squeezing your tits before they slide down to grab your ass, helping you rock on top of him. "You're so goddamn gorgeous. I - fuck - thought it when we first met. Tried to ignore how gorgeous you are but you are so fucking kind. So fucking sweet." He confesses breathlessly as you grind down onto him.

“Thought you were so sexy.” You feel guilty, but push that thought away. “From the beginning, I was jealous of Lorraine. You are caring, you let her be herself.” You snort and lean down to press your lips to his. “Thought you were too good for her.”

Javier chuckles, "enough about her. Wanna focus on you." He demands, sliding his hand across your hip until his thumb is pressing against your clit. "Want to hear you moan for me again. Wanna feel that tight pussy clench." He murmurs, eyes dark as his gaze trails up to your face from your cunt.

You moan his name, loving how dirty it sounds coming out in his raspy voice. “Soaked for you.” You promise breathlessly. “Gonna cum for you.”

He groans, cock twitching and he’s close but he wants to see you fall apart again. He rubs your clit a little harder, thrusting his hips up into you, desperate to feel you clamp down on his cock again.

Your tits are pressed against his chest as you rock down on his cock desperately. Pressing his hand between your bodies as he rubs your clit. “Javier.” You whine against his lips, rocking back upright again and tossing your head back. “Javi!” You cry out in pleasure as your cunt clenches down around him and soak him with your cum.

He watches you writhe above him, eyes squeezed shut and jaw dropped as you soak his cock and he growls, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you close so he can thrust up into you. He is a man possessed as he fucks you through your high and he’s soon climbing to his own. He pants your name, thrusting up into you as he grips your skin and finally he lets out a choked version of your name as he cums, spilling into the condom.

You collapse against his chest, his arms locked around your body as you pant. Trying to catch your breath and giggling in pure bliss as you sigh. “That was fucking amazing.” You hum, turning your head and kissing his jaw.

He hums in agreement, turning his head towards you so he can kiss you, his tongue languidly sliding against yours until he gently bites down on your chin. “Better than I imagined.” He confesses with a little guilt in his tone.

“I know.” You promise, pulling back and caressing his cheek. “You just broke up with your fiancée. You feel guilty because you should have been imagining her. But I think everyone has fantasies about others. You didn’t act on it. I kissed you, and I’m sorry that I put you in that position. I was completely wrong.”

Javier takes your hand from his cheek and presses a kiss to your palm. “I shouldn’t have encouraged you.” He confesses, knowing he wasn’t in a rush to get back to Lorraine and he might have flirted a little. He shifts, rolling you over so he can pull out of you, keeping his grip on the condom before he ties it off and tosses it into the waste bin next to your bed. “I, uh, I’m not staying in Laredo.” He confesses, looking at you after he caresses your leg.

“I figured.” You admit, reaching out and stroking his side. “When you mentioned the DEA, I heard how badly you wanted to do it in your voice.” Your heart aches but you know that he can’t stay here. Not after jilting Lorraine at the altar. It’s going to be the talk of the town for months to come. “When are you leaving?” You ask softly.

“Tomorrow.” He murmurs, glancing across the room, “I called the office before I came over here. I wanted to explain to you properly why I called off the wedding. Lorraine told me she was pregnant. Showed me the test she took and basically said I had to do the right thing. I knew my pa would kill me for leaving her pregnant so I had to propose. Her dad basically got the shotgun and told me what I had to do. I didn’t want to get married. Hell, I didn’t want to marry her. I was railroaded and she wasn’t even fucking pregnant.” He shakes his head and closes his eyes.

“Oh god, and when you found me buying tampons for her…..” you shake your head. “I’m so sorry, Javier.” You murmur, stroking his chest over his heart. “At least you found out before you got married, you got to break free.” You snort. “And you’re leaving, so you don’t have to put up with the backlash from leaving her.” You sigh. “There are some things I might be able to get your money back on.” You tell him. “Do you want me to send any of it back to your dad?”

Javier nods, “yeah. Give it back to my dad but don’t stress yourself out getting it back. I’m honestly glad I didn’t have to get married to her. I fell out of love with her. Watching her plan this wedding…it was all about her. What she wanted. It didn’t matter what I wanted at all and that made her ugly to me.” He admits and takes your hand in his to press a kiss to the back of it.

“I’m sorry.” You sigh softly. “Sometimes, wedding planning brings out the worst in people, or maybe it’s that it shows who they truly are at their core.” You shrug. “But now, you are going to go do what you really want to do. Go help stem the drug problems in the country.” You smile. “I think that’s incredible, Javier.”

“It’s what I feel is right, what I need to do. I told Lorraine I wanted to go but she told me to be serious and focus on making money to provide for our family. She didn’t support me.” He sighs, “but that’s over. It’s over. I’m sorry I can’t stay. If things were different…I’d take you for dinner…dancing. Treat you right.” He offers you a half smile.

“Oh god, could you imagine the scandal?” You snort, your eyes widening comically. “Lorraine would come for my head!” You giggle and shake your head, leaning up and pressing your lips to his. “I understand.” You promise. “How about I order a pizza and we drink the beer I have in my fridge?” You suggest. “Or are you more of a hamburger kind of guy?”

Javier chuckles, “I’ll eat anything but Pizza sounds good. Order it and there’s cash in my pocket. I’m paying.” He insists, shifting to stand up so he can grab his pants, pulling them on and leaving them unbuttoned. “I’ll go get the beers.” He winks and strides out of your bedroom, stepping over the strewn out clothes.

You chuckle and lean over to grab the phone off the cradle to dial the local pizza place that will deliver to you. “Hey, you want a supreme?” You call out as you dial.

“Sounds good, hermosa.” He calls back and he checks your drawer to find the bottle opener. He works fast to open the bottles and he tosses the caps before he takes the bottles and hands one to you where you’re leaning against the doorway with the phone in your hand.

“Ummmhmmm.” You hum into the phone. “Deep dish.” You raise your eyebrows at him to make sure that’s okay and smile when he nods. “Extra sauce, um, everything. A supreme.” You listen for another moment, taking a swallow of the beer and humming in pleasure. “Yeah. Okay, yeah, we’ll pay cash. Twenty minutes? Thanks.” You reach over and hang the phone up and grin. “Pie will be here in twenty minutes. Enough time to smoke and have a beer or two.”

He watches you put the phone back in the holder and he reaches for you, grabbing your waist to pull you against him. “Every fucker in Laredo is a goddamn fool if you haven’t been planning your own wedding yet.” He observes, wanting you to know what he thinks since he’s leaving tomorrow.

You smirk and let yourself lean against him. “You should be tired of weddings right now.” You remind him. “Maybe one day.” It’s not a priority for you right now, not when you are establishing your business.

Javier chuckles and nods, letting go of your waist. “You mind if I smoke in here?” He asks and you shake your head, stepping back to grab him an ashtray while he finds the pack of cigarettes he bought earlier, working fast to light on and he inhales the smoke while watching you wear the white shirt he bought for his wedding day. “I hope you don’t get shit from Lorraine.” He says after he exhales the smoke.

You know that it’s possible but you shrug. “She was too busy spinning the truth to make herself look like the victim.” You admit. “I’m afraid your own reputation is going to be mud for a while.”

Javier shrugs, walking over to tap the cigarette on the side of the ashtray. “Good thing I won’t be here to find out about the shit she says. You’ll look out for my Pa, though? Make sure he doesn’t get dragged into it when people ask you for gossip.”

“Of course.” You promise, watching as his shoulders roll down in relief and you kick your lips. The man should not be this attractive. “And I’m not going to say anything about you.”

Javier snorts, bringing the cigarette to his lips as he pulls the chair out to sit at your kitchen table. “Like I said, I won’t be here to hear the whispers but hopefully it will die down in a few months.” He says, pursing his lips to exhale the smoke. “She will bring the town on her side but it doesn’t matter. Let her process it how she wants. I’m not married to her. That’s all that matters.”

“True.” You take another sip of your beer and sigh. “You get to decide how you live your life, no nagging wife.” You chuckle. “No kids that you didn’t really want.” You don’t know if Javier wants kids ever or if he just didn’t like the idea of kids with Lorraine. It’s not really any of your business. “You can do whatever you want. Fuck whoever you want.”

Javier chuckles, nodding as he picks up the beer bottle and takes a gulp, “I love sex. I do.” He smirks and drags his eyes along your form, “and I’m going to stop these fucking cartels while you grow your business but damn if I won’t think about you while I’m alone in bed.”

“Honestly?” You tilt your head. “I don’t see you being alone in bed often.” You admit. “I can see that you’d be the type of man who needs sex to forget about his troubles.” You take another sip of your beer. “That night in the bar….I just wanted to take you into the bathroom and suck your cock.”

“Fuck.” Javier murmurs, tapping the cigarette on the ashtray as he leans back in the chair, slumping slightly. “If I was single, I wouldn’t have objected.” He confesses, “shit happens. I could be alone. If I get assigned somewhere…hell, I could be in the middle of the fucking desert with just my hand.”

“There’s a sexy image for me to think about.” You tease, winking playfully. “Javier Peña stroking his cock as he thinks about a pair of tits, a warm cunt.” You chuckle. “Maybe even mine.”

“Definitely yours.” He chuckles, feeling light despite the heavy events that have led to this moment. “Definitely. Yours.” He drags out before he snubs his smoke in the ashtray and he pats his thigh. “Wanna find out what I’ll be thinking about?” He teases, a cocky smirk on his lips.

“Absolutely.” You immediately take up the invitation. “We’ve only got one night, after all.” You won’t guilt him about it, so you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his. You’re lucky to just get tonight, he could be dancing his wedding dance to Lorraine right now.

He reaches out to caress your cheek, his tongue sliding against yours, and he is happy to have you in his lap. He groans when you tangle your fingers in his hair and he lets you tug on it, pulling his mouth from yours and his neck stretched as you tilt his head so you can kiss the skin there.

You take your time. Learning that he grunts in amusement when you kiss right below his ear, as if it tickles. His pulse quickens against your tongue. The spicy scent of his cologne is heady and you groan at the slightly salty taste of his skin.

You are worshipping his neck and he doesn't think he's ever had that before but fuck, he likes it. His cock hardens beneath you and he reaches down to squeeze your ass, rocking you on top of him.

“Ready to go again?” You giggle, continuing to kiss and nip at his skin. You’re ready, but you find yourself craving him more and more. “Think we can do it before the food arrives?”

"Gino's Pizza delivers in twenty minutes or less so we have about ten minutes. I think I can make you cum twice in that time." He smirks, grabbing your ass and he stands as he lifts you, turning to put you on top of your kitchen table. "Bend over." He orders, reaching into his pants for his wallet to grab the condom he had in there before Lorraine got pregnant. You follow his order and he tosses the wallet onto the table while he pulls his cock out and rips open the packet to roll the condom down his cock. "Nine minutes." You count and he chuckles, pushing his shirt up your hips, and he kicks your ankle to spread you wider before he positions himself and pushes into you.

The way he pushes into you makes you cry out. Gripping the edge of the table and lifting up onto your toes as you try to push back. “Fuck!” He chuckles, fingers digging into your hips as he starts to move. “Oh fuck me hard.” You beg breathlessly. “Want to feel it.” You want to feel him for days when you move or sit down, loving that ache in your pussy when you are fucked right.

He won't deny you anything right now so he starts to fuck you harder, the table scrapping against your linoleum floor as he thrusts deeper, harder, and faster. His hand grips your hip, the other pressed against your back, and his jaw is clenched. "Feel so goddamn good, baby." He murmurs, sweat starting to bead on his forehead as he gives you everything.

“M-my line.” You pants out, moaning as you turn your head to press your cheek against the cool wood of the table. You love how deep he gets, the harsh thrusts making your ass jiggle as he slams into you. You will think about it every time you sit here after he’s gone. “Fuck baby. So good.”

He grunts, nostrils flaring in the effort he’s taking to push you over the edge. He desperately wants you to cum again for him. Then again. Before you have pizza. Your ass jiggles and he can’t help letting go of your hip to smack the flesh, watching it jiggle and he squeezes it then pulls your cheek apart so he can watch his cock disappear into your greedy cunt.

“Oh god.” You whine, feeling your body pull tight as he changes the angle. Leaning back against you and holding your ass cheeks wide while he hammers into you. It’s filthy and so sexy that it makes your stomach twist as you get closer. “Gonna cum.” You manage to garble out right before you clench down around him, the wordless cry loud as you come apart.

He growls as you squeeze his cock, your cry echoing in the kitchen, and he doesn’t stop. He continues to push into your cunt that’s gripping him like a vice. He pants your name, “need you to cum again.” His hands let go of your ass and he grips your shoulders, leveraging himself to work into your pussy harder than possible.

“Oh, oh- oh fuuuuuuuuuck!” You squeal as he pushes you through your orgasm and into overstimulation. Your legs shake and you would collapse if the table wasn’t holding you up.

He carries on fucking you hard like you wanted. Your cries hit his ears but his heart is pounding as he works himself into your pussy and it squelches around his thick length as the table moves another inch from its original position.

He’s like a man possessed and it’s not long before you are winding up again. “Oh god, oh fuck, Javi!”

He loves the way you cry out his name. You’re shaking beneath him and he is fucking you like a madman. Lorraine never let him get rough. Didn’t want to get her hair messed up. He groans and grabs your thigh, lifting it onto the table so he can sink deeper, “cum for me.” He rasps his order, bending over your body to bite down on your shoulder.

The next thrust spears up against that perfect spot inside you. Making you scream in pleasure while your walls pulse around him. Soaking his cock in your cum as you start sobbing his name over and over again.

You’re gripping him so tight he can hardly push into you but he throbs, pushed over the edge with the way you’ve soaked his balls with how hard you came, and he twitches as he spills into the condom. Your name choked from his lips as he leans over you, burying his face in the back of your neck.

Both of you are silent as you try to catch your breath. The tick of the clock on the wall the only thing that you can hear until there is a knock on the door. “Just in time.” You joke, smiling when he huffs and groans against your skin.

He chuckles and shifts to grip the base of his cock, pulling out of you, and he works fast to tie off the condom. He tosses it in your trash and pulls his pants up, grabbing his wallet from the table and he makes his way to the door. He opens it and the teenager he pulled over last week for speeding has wide eyes. “Officer, uh, Peña.” He murmurs in surprise and Javier sighs, realizing he’s been spotted here. He doesn’t care about his reputation but he does care about yours. “Listen kid. I’ll give you a damn good tip if you didn’t see me here.” He says and the teenager nods, “yes sir.” Javier nods and hands him the cash plus a decent tip, taking the pizza, and he quickly shuts the door.

You see his face when he walks back into the kitchen and you bite your lip. “Everything alright?” You ask, and he nods, giving a little sigh. “Driver recognized me.” He admits as he sets the pizza on the table. “Oh.” You wince, understanding that he wouldn’t want word of this to get out. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

“I- it’s not about me. Baby, I don’t care because I know the truth about what happened but I want to protect you. He’s a kid. He doesn’t know who you are so he will probably forget and I gave him a nice tip to get him to keep quiet.” He confesses, “I want to protect you. I’ll be leaving tomorrow and you’ll be here.”

“That’s sweet.” You smile and walk over to drop a kiss on his lips. “You’re sweet. And I appreciate it. Something like that could affect my business so I am glad you thought about it like that.

He nods, “he should leave it alone. Especially if he doesn’t want his momma to know that he got pulled over for speeding.” Javier chuckles and watches as you grab some plates. “I, uh, realized that I don’t really know much about you. Apart from your work and where you live. You got family nearby?” He doesn’t know of any of your family members in town.

“No.” You shake your head and chuckle, setting the plates down and opening the box before moving back to grab napkins and more beer. “I wanted to move away from family. The drama was too much for me.”

Javier nods in understanding, “I get that. Their loss.” He says as he reaches out to open the pizza box and he grabs a slice and puts it on the plate for you. “Here you go, baby.” He murmurs, setting the plate down after you sit down with the beers and napkins.

“Thank you.” You are surprised by his thoughtfulness, although maybe you shouldn’t be. “Yeah, I honestly just picked a town. I liked Laredo.”

Javier snorts, "you picked it? Christ. I have been here my whole life and I - I wasn't sure I wanted to stay here. Most guys leave by joining the army but I don't really take orders well so that was out but then I met Lorraine and then she - well, I thought she was pregnant." He shakes his head and picks up his beer, taking a swig.

“It’s not so bad.” You snort. “There’s a quiet kind of peace here.” You hum. “Sometimes I like to walk along the river at sunset and just look out at the water.”

"And see the drug mules. You gotta be careful, hermosa. You could get hurt. Don't go there at night." He orders, picking up a slice of pizza. "There's bad men out there."

You understand his concern but you huff slightly. “I know. But you’re gonna make it safer.” You point out. “So I can walk at night. Get rid of the drug mules.”

He nods, hoping that's the case, and he takes a bite of his pizza. "Just be careful, sweetheart." He says after he swallows his bite and you nod, taking your own bite.

Javier nods, “that’s a good idea but you need to go to classes. Learn how to use it. Too many people die from accidents not knowing how to use a gun. You gotta respect it. It’s a weapon.” He says, “I’ll talk to Julio at the station. He does gun safety classes for civilians.”

You hum, knowing that it is sweet that he cares. “You are going to make a lot of good changes.” You predict with a smile. “Agent Peña with the DEA.”

Javier smiles, ducking his head a little, "we will see. Maybe I'll be back here soon. If I don't pass the academy." He sighs, admitting something he was worried about.

​​You snort. “You’re smart.” You him. “Lorraine bragged on you, even if she didn’t understand why you got a degree in philosophy and criminal justice.” You lift a brow. “I have no doubt you will breeze through the academy.”

“Thanks.” He winks at you, picking up the pizza and you both eat in comfortable silence. It’s nice to not have the constant chatter. Lorraine never stopped talking while they would eat dinner but nothing of substance.

You notice that he finishes his beer quickly and get up to grab him another. “Here, baby.” You kiss his lips and then grab another slice of pizza. “What time are you leaving tomorrow? I’d imagine it would be pretty early.”

He nods, “gotta leave by 8 and I need to go to my pa’s to get my things.” He says and leans back in his seat as he picks up his beer. “Do you want me to go home or stay the night?” He asks, not wanting to assume.

“I’d like you to stay.” You admit selfishly. “But I understand if you want to get a jump on things.” This could never be more than what it is right now, a night. You’re grateful that you get that, so you won’t make him feel guilty for leaving. “Up to you.”

He tilts his head, reaching for your hand to squeeze it. “I want to stay. We only get one night and I want to be here.” He says, “is that okay?” You nod and he smiles, lifting your hand to kiss the back of it.

The pizza is put up and dishes cleared away. Javier helps throw away the trash and you smile at how easy this is with him. “Let’s go back to bed.” You suggest with a grin. “Still have to suck your cock.”

He smirks, wiping his hands on the dish cloth after he washed them, and he reaches for you. “You are a devil.” He teases, his hands squeezing your hips and they slide down to your ass to pull you against his body. “Too beautiful for your own good.”

“Don’t know about that, Peña.” You tease. “But your last night here in Laredo is going to be spent in my bed and I damn sure plan on making it memorable.”

**** 

Javier groans as he glances at your alarm clock. It’s six in the morning. He blinks a few times, his hair all over the place, and he turns to look at you. You’re still sleeping and he shifts to kiss you, wanting to wake you up so he can say goodbye.

“Hmmmmm.” You are drawn out of your sleep slowly, feeling the warmth from his touch as you come to. Smiling to yourself as your eyes start to flutter open. “Mornin’.” You mumble, kissing him back after the next kiss and you feel him roll you onto your back. “What time is it?”

“Six.” He answers, kissing your jaw, “wanted to say goodbye before I left.” He says, kissing your neck, and he shifts between your thighs, his hand squeezing your breast through your tank top.

You want to pull him close, beg him to stay a little longer, but you can’t do that to him. It wouldn’t be fair. He has a dream, a goal and you wouldn’t try to manipulate him like Lorraine had. “Should make some coffee.” You moan when you feel that he’s already hard, wanting you again.

“Let me say goodbye to you properly.” He demands, shifting under the covers and he wastes no time pulling your panties aside so he can slide his tongue through your folds.

Your stomach immediately starts to clench, it doesn’t matter how many times you came last night, your body responds to him. “Javi, fuck.” You gasp out, reaching down and tangling your fingers in his hair. “Oh fuck. Hell of a goodbye.”

He chuckles against your flesh and flicks his tongue over your clit. He sucks it between his lips and his hand slides up to drag your tank top down, squeezing your breast when it’s free from the material.

He loves tits, but he also seems to be an ass man. Or maybe it’s just that he loves a woman’s body. You have never felt more appreciated, more worshipped than you have over the past few hours. Your hand covers his and you moan his name.

He loves the way you moan his name, his tongue sliding through your folds until he’s pushing it into your cunt. His nose pressing against your clit, and he groans when your fingers tangle in his hair.

​​The way he lazily eats your cunt is almost deceptive. You would think that it would take so long to get worked up, but every flick of his tongue is so perfectly placed, already leaned what makes you shake. You whine as he pushes his tongue deep. “Fuck baby, I’m gonna miss that mouth.” You pant,

He groans into your flesh in agreement. He’s only just had you but he’s going to miss you. This pussy. He will definitely be thinking about you when he’s alone. He slides his tongue up and takes your clit between his lips, sucking in an effort to push you over the edge.

Your eyes close and his name becomes a prayer, chanted out again and again as he rolls you closer to cumming. Every push of his tongue makes you until he sucks one last time to send you careening into space as stars burst behind your lids. “Javi!”

He groans at the way your thigh clamp down around his head and he works you through it, lapping at your soaked pussy, pushing his tongue into you to lap it up while you relax beneath him.

“Oh god.” You pant, chest heaving and you lift the covers to look down at him. “One more time.” You hum with a grin, “I want to feel you inside me one more time before you go.”

He nods, shifting up your body, and his cock is aching. He didn’t wear anything in bed so he is pressing against your thigh while he kisses your neck. “Baby. Get a condom.” He orders against your skin.

You moan in agreement, shifting the side to open the drawer and fish around in it. “Last one.” You hum, pulling out the box and one final rubber to press into his hand. “Fitting.”

He chuckles, taking it from you to rip it open and he works fast to roll it down his cock. He inhales deeply as he shifts to position the head at your entrance and he slowly pushes into you. His eyes adjusted to the dark so he can see your face as he pushes into your pussy. “Fuck baby. So goddamn tight.” He hisses, stretching you out and he leans down to press his lips to yours.

You feel the pinch, knowing that you are going to be sore after this, but you wouldn’t stop him for anything in the world. “Just for you.” You moan breathlessly, clenching down around him and giggling when he hisses again. “Gotta keep you pining for home when you leave.” You tease, reaching up to caress his side. “Promise me you will be careful, Javier.”

He nods, knowing he can’t really promise that but he wants to give you something. He rocks into you, his hand grabbing your thigh to lift it higher so he can press into you. “But I’ll think of you, of this pussy.” He promises, sinking deeper into you.

“Yessssssss.” You hiss, tilting your head back as he completely takes over. “I’ll be thinking about you.” You promise, knowing that the specter of his presence in your bed will be felt long after you are a distant memory in his mind. “So good, Javier.”

Your praise rings in his ears and he grunts, grabbing your other thigh and he lifts your legs onto his shoulders. “Wanna see you cum again.” He groans, bending you over. He wants to wreck you, leave you aching for him when he goes.

“Oh fuck.” Your eyes widen in surprise, but immediately you are moaning from how good he feels. Your walls are tighter around his thrusting cock and he is hitting something inside you that has you squealing when he drives into you again.

Your cries are loud in the early morning air and he loves it. Grunts escaping his lips as he fucks you harder and your cunt starts to squelch, fluttering around his cock as you get closer to your high. “Cum for me, baby.” He orders through clenched teeth.

His neck muscles are bulging and he looks magnificent in the soft light of daybreak. It contrasts with the concentration and dark look in his eyes as he fucks you. Your nails dig into his forearms as he hammers into you, pushing deep when you cry out again, your cunt soaking him and you feel the wave of your juices soak his stomach.

“Fuckkkk.” He groans, looking down at his stomach as you squirt over his cock. “Fuck, hermosa. Look at that.” He murmurs, continuing to fuck into you. The squelching noise is deafening as you cry out and he pushes deep, chasing his own orgasm.

You continue to spasm and squeak as he fucks you. Your body tensing and bowing in pleasure while he thrusts in and out of you at a pace that has your tits shaking. “Javi, Javi, Javviiiiiiiiiii!”

He pants, thrusting to work you through it but it only takes a few rocks of his hips for him to let out a guttural groan. He buries his cock deep and his cock throbs as he spills into the condom. He struggles to keep his body from smothering yours and his arms shake next to your head.

You moan as you watch him ride out his pleasure. Almost wishing you could feel the heat of his seed as he filled you up, but you couldn’t ask for that. Especially after what Lorraine had put him through. You honestly wonder if she had meant to trap him. Have him get her pregnant between telling him she was and the wedding so there would only be a little bit of time to fudge. Or if she had been hoping for a convenient ‘miscarriage’ right after. “So good, baby.” You coo. “Best fucking sex I’ve ever had.”

He smiles, nudging your nose against his, and he kisses you softly. “Glad my fantasies came true.” He murmurs, “you - shit - exceeded them.” He assures you and he grunts as he reaches down to grip the base of his cock. His skin is drying from your cum and he slowly pulls out of you so he can tie off the condom. He slumps on the bed next to you, catching his breath for a moment.

You chuckle and curl into his side, pressing your lips to his chest. “Do you want to take a shower while I make some coffee?” You ask. You know he needs to leave, but you don’t want to send him off back to his dad’s without some caffeine at least.

He nods, kissing your forehead before he shifts off the bed. He wants to ask you to join him but he can’t. He needs to focus now and get ready to leave town. He showers quickly, redressing in the clothes you found and left on the bed for him, and he makes his way out into the kitchen to find you there pouring a cup of coffee. “I’m not sure how you like it.” You say and he smiles, “this is good.” He takes a sip and leans against the counter.

You had wrapped your body up in a robe, but you don’t think that he cares about that. He groans in pleasure and you smile after taking a sip of your own coffee. “Well, I have to tell you that I had an amazing night.” You admit shamelessly. “I’m happy that you stayed.”

He nods, “me too. I’m - I’m sorry I can’t stay and give you more but I think it’s for the best this way.” He says, “we can’t - I don’t want you to get shit because of me. You deserve better than that. Deserve better than me.” He sighs, looking down at the cup in his hand.

“Don’t apologize for following your dreams.” You reach out and touch his hand, making him look up at you. “But I don’t think I deserve better.” You shrug. “It’s just the wrong time. That’s all.”

Javier nods, setting his cup down, and he cups your cheeks, “wrong time.” He agrees and leans closer to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Thank you, hermosa.” He murmurs, kissing your forehead.

“Nothing to thank me for.” You promise, smiling at him as he pulls back. “You are supposed to leave Laredo.”

He pulls back and takes another look at you before he wipes his hands on his pants. “I better go. I need to get my shit from my pa’s.” He says and cups your cheek one last time. “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.” He winks at you, grabbing his keys from your kitchen table and he walks towards the front door.

You set your coffee down and trail after him. “Be safe, Javier.” You murmur as he reaches for the door. “I’ll be praying for you.”

He turns to look at you one last time, nodding and offering you a wink as he leaves your house as the sun rises in the sky. He heads home and gets his stuff, hugging his Pa goodbye. “I’ll handle Lorraine and the wedding stuff. Chase your dream, mijo.” Chucho tells his son who hugs him again and gets into his truck. Javier watches the sun shine as he drives down the highway to make his way to Houston. A new beginning and a new career. He’s ready to kick some cartel ass.

**** 

“Yesssss.” You laugh into the phone, loving how relaxed the couple is. It’s been a lot of fun planning the young couple’s wedding. “There are plenty of cases of beer.” You promise. “I’ll even stash an extra case in the trunk of my car as back up, okay?” Since he’s a Marine, the groom hasn’t been able to be present for the planning of the wedding but he’s called a few times with his own requests, simple as they might be. “We can get all of Laredo drunk, or maybe just you and a few of your Marine buddies, alright?”

Danny chuckles, “nah, it’s gotta be all of Laredo. Especially my cousin. He’s been a boring fucker since he got back from overseas. Gotta make sure he gets some beers in him.” You chuckle, “sure thing. Consider it done.” Danny thanks you and you smile, happy for the young couple getting married this weekend. 

**** 

Javier sighs as he walks into the reception hall, wiping his hands on his jeans as he follows his pa into the beautifully decorated hall. His cousin Danny and his new wife are taking photos outside. Chucho slaps Javier on the shoulder, “let’s get you beer, mijo.” Javier nods, making his way over to the bar and that’s when he sees you. You are adjusting some flowers on a table display and his heart stops. You look beautiful, as always, and his heart beats hard when your eyes meet his when you look up.

“Javier.” His name falls off your lips in surprise. Eyes widening when you see him again. He is still devastatingly handsome. His dark eyes held more sorrow, more heartache than you had seen when he walked out your door so many years ago. You had forgotten that Danny was related to Javier, even when you had run into Chucho a few weeks ago and talked about the upcoming wedding.

He pats his father on the shoulder and makes his way over to you. You’re a sight for sore eyes and after everything that went down in Colombia, he offers you a tilt of his head and smiles as he says your name. “Should’ve known it was you planning the wedding. It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You fiddle with the flowers and look at him again. “Although I can’t claim too much credit. They knew what they wanted and it was just perfect for them.” You bite your lip, wanting to ask him why he suddenly stopped appearing in the newspapers about Pablo Escobar, but you don’t. “How are things?” You ask instead.

He half smirks, tilting his head, “things are…well, let’s just say I could use a beer.” He chuckles, “Colombia was not what I expected.” He confesses and reaches up to rub the back of his neck, looking around as the drinks start to flow. “How have you been doing?”

“I’ve been good.” You can tell that he’s a little unsure of himself so you step over to the bar and grab a Budweiser. “Still drink these?” You ask, holding it up. When Javier nods, you use the bottle opener you keep in your pocket and hand it to him. “Now that your first wish is granted, what else can I do for you?” You ask playfully.

“Dance with me.” He blurts out, unable to stop himself, “later, I mean. When the band plays. I want to -” He clears his throat and takes a sip of his beer, “want to catch up.” He says and he glances over to see Lorraine walking into the hall with her husband. Some big oil guy from Dallas. Javier exhales deeply and turns back towards you.

You follow his eyes. “Of course.” You wonder if he had heard about Lorraine getting married but you doubt he’s very upset. “As soon as they get done with pictures, they will greet everyone and then start the dancing.”

“I guess you didn’t get invited back to plan that wedding.” Javier chuckles softly, “did she - was there any hassle after I left - after everything that went down?”

“Nothing except me nearly biting my tongue off to keep from exposing all her bullshit.” You huff, shaking your head. “Although it was really hard not to. She moved on pretty quick though.”

Javier snorts, “yeah. I heard about what she was saying after I left town. I was the bad guy but whatever…she got her happy ending.” You tilt your head, “and what about you?” Javier chuckles, rubbing his jaw, “I don’t think I get a happy ending.”

That breaks your heart, especially since you know that Javier is a kind and wonderful man. Sometimes a little too dry or serious, but who wouldn’t be, given the type of work he does? You kept up with the news articles when you heard Javier was down in Colombia. The horrors that happened down there. You can’t even imagine what he was going through. You sigh. “You do.” You promise, smiling at him. “You just have to find it. You are too good a man to not deserve a happy ending.”

Javier shakes his head, “I don’t know. I guess we will see.” He says and takes a sip of his beer. “Did you…have you found your happy ending?” He asks, curious if you’ve found a boyfriend. He has no right to be jealous when it’s been years but he knows he’d be disappointed to find out you’re taken.

You laugh slightly as you shake your head. “Nope.” You admit, shrugging it off as if it was no big deal even though you honestly worried if you were destined to be alone. “Still planning everyone else’s happily ever after and not my own.” You tease.

“You’ll be fine, baby.” He promises, “just gotta get some of these assholes to realize what’s under their nose.” He sips his beer and turns when your assistant comes over to tell you the bride and groom are ready. “Showtime. Ill, uh, see you later.” You promise and he nods, thinking about the dance you promised him and he watches you walk off.

Javier is here. You can’t believe it. You had heard about him of course. The same people who had gossiped about him when he had left town and dragged his name through the mud had bragged on him. Boasted about his work as if it was their own or they helped him. You had bitten your tongue and wished that you could call or write to him, just to remind him that you were still praying for his safety. You hadn’t stopped thinking about that one night you had together.

Javier watches you as you rush around making sure everything is beautiful for Danny and Maria and he smiles, appreciating how much effort you put in. “Beautiful.” He murmurs to himself and Chucho comes over, patting his son on the shoulder. Javier claps as the couple walks into the reception hall.

“She hasn’t really dated.” Chucho offers, seeing the way that his son’s eyes drift towards you again and again. He had wondered if something happened before Javier left for the DEA. He hadn’t come home the night of his missed wedding and when he had come home that morning, he smelled like the shampoo you seem to favor. Not that it was his business, you nor Javi were the type to cheat and he had ended things with Lorraine when he hadn’t shown up to the church. Still, he always wondered if you were waiting on his wayward son. “Can’t remember anyone.”

Javier isn’t sure if he’s pleased or upset that you haven’t dated anyone. He hates to think of you alone but he is pleased that he doesn’t have to stay away from you. He hums and his Pa chuckles, nudging him as he sips his beer. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even know what I’m doing next. The DEA put me on the shelf until they decide what my fate is. I can’t drag her into my bullshit.”

“Mijo….” Chucho sighs. “I never said anything about letting the other one go because she wasn’t right for you.” He reminds Javier. “But that one….” He takes another sip of his beer. “She’s exactly what you need. Your mother would have loved her.”

Javier grips his beer bottle a little tighter, his stomach twisting, and he watches you as you prepare for Danny and Maria’s entrance. “She is too good for me. Always has been. She said - we spent the night together after I told Lorraine it was over. She said - it was the wrong time. Is it still the wrong time?” Javier asks his father like he is needing him to figure everything out, to tell him what to do.

“Last time you were at a crossroads in your life.” Chucho reminds him. “Much like now, except you have a better grasp on yourself. She obviously has the skills to soothe you and leave an impression.”

Javier snorts, "that's one way to put it. She - she never left my mind." He admits and Chucho chuckles, "or your heart from the sounds of it." Javier doesn't answer and thankfully he doesn't need to as the band announce Danny and Maria and Javier shifts his beer bottle to the nearest table so he can clap for his newly married cousin.

You move over to the buffet to make sure that you’ve got plates made for the happy couple. They will have to snack between conversations but you want them to have some of the delicious foods that had been prepared. Turning and humming in surprise when you see Lorraine. You know she had been invited, but you didn’t think she was going to show.

Lorraine isn’t surprised to see you there. You’ve become more successful and well known in town - hell, she’s heard you’ve planned weddings in Dallas - after her disaster of a wedding. She says your name, “it’s a beautiful day.” She offers you a stiff smile, “although I probably would’ve told them to go with silver instead of gold.” She hums, looking at the table settings. “At least this wedding happened under your planning.”

You expected some kind of comment, of course. Knowing that Lorraine isn’t the type of woman to be able to help herself. “So true.” You give a casual shrug. “Actually that is the only wedding that I’ve planned that didn’t happen. And ironic that both of you are here.”

Lorraine’s eyes widen and her head swivels comically as she looks over at Javier who is talking to Danny and his new wife. “Can’t believe he’s finally shown his face.” She scoffs and ignores you as she makes her way over to her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck.

You figure you should probably warn Javier, but then you see his eyes wander around the room, finding Lorraine. He doesn’t look surprised to see her, although it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. He’s very good at keeping his thoughts to himself. Instead of worrying about it, you move over to make sure that the photographer has pictures of the wedding cake.

The food and booze are soon flowing and Javier greets his third cousin while sitting next to his dad at their assigned table. He sees you rushing around, fixing Maria's dress, fixing flowers, and making sure the food is refilled in the buffet. You walk past Javier and he can't help but wink at you, letting you know he's watching.

That wink. It will be the death of you. Your entire body heats up at his attention and you try to smother the smile on your face, but it’s hard so you just pretend that it’s wedding happiness. That you aren’t seeking out the gaze of a certain man. He looks damn good in that red plaid shirt and crisp jeans. Making your mouth water as you remember every second of the one night you spent together.

The food is soon eaten and the band begins to play so Danny and Maria can have their first dance then cut the cake. Javier sips his beer as the couple dance, looking lovingly into each other's eyes and then they move over to the display table to cut the cake. When the traditions are done and cake is eaten, the dance floor gets busy and Javier looks around for you after he stands up.

“Be careful.” You decide that instead of instructing them on what to do, you will politely nudge them out of the way and do it yourself. “The cake has to be wrapped so it will last.” You explain. “They will have the top layer of the wedding cake on their first anniversary.”

Javier slowly makes his way over to you as you finalize the storing of the top layer so the happy couple can enjoy it on their anniversary. "Best cake I've had in a long time. New baker in town? I don't remember the cake being that good when I tried the samples." He says, tilting his head.

You turn towards him and smile. “I baked it.” You confess. “The baker I normally use got sick and it was too late to find a replacement.” It hadn’t been a big deal, the baking was easy, the assembly was what had taken the longest.

Javier raises his eyebrows, "goddamn. Beauty and cooking skills." He smirks, "are the men in Laredo stupid?" He asks and you chuckle, looking down at your shoes for a second, "well...the only one I ever liked left for Colombia." Javier licks his lips, rocking on his heels for a moment, "he was a fool trying to stop a never ending cycle. He left the best thing that ever happened to him in this town." He admits, rubbing his neck.

Looking up, you try not to smile, but it’s hard when he just said something so sweet to you. “You had to go. For you. I understood that, understand it now.” You promise. “Are you back for long?”

Javier tilts his head, “I don’t know. I’ve been put on official leave by the DEA. I’m not sure but I’m going to be called to D.C for a review by the board. Then I’ll know if I’m back helping my pa or if I’m still working for the DEA.”

“Because of the Judy Moncado thing?” You ask, tilting your head and smirking as his eyes widen in surprise. “I kept up with you. Or tried to. I wondered what happened when you went dark in the papers but then that article came out.”

Javier nods, “it was a shit show. I- I was frustrated. Tried to cut corners, skip bureaucracy and sink down to their level and it backfired on me.” He confesses, scratching his jaw, “still…they got him in the end.” You sigh, “yeah but you weren’t there after all your hard work.” Javier shrugs, “I know what I did to contribute.” He promises and glances over at the dance floor, “do you, uh, maybe wanna dance?”

“Absolutely.” You would never turn down a dance with Javier and you set down your drink and reach for his hand. “Let’s dance, handsome. I want to hear about you. Not your cases or Escobar, but about you.” You clarify. “Tell me about what you’ve been doing outside of catching bad guys.”

Javier guides you onto the dance floor while the band singer croons, allowing Javier to pull you closer, and his hand is on your back with one hand in yours. “I- I wasn’t - the sicarios used to frequent the brothels so I’d - I’d do the same trying to get information.” He confesses, his dark eyes on yours as he tells you the truth.

You aren’t stupid, you knew that Javier wouldn’t be celibate while he was off living his life. You’ve had a couple of lovers, but nothing worth noting. Your life has just been a lot tamer than his. “That’s smart.” You hum. “Hopefully they could help you and provide some comfort.”

“An escape.” He corrects you, “I saw - it was rough and I buried myself in work and whiskey and - well, it was all for nothing now. Escobar may be dead but others will take his place. It never ends.” He sighs, pulling you closer.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur softly. “I’m sure it wasn’t for nothing. There were real people saved by your work. Even if it’s just one, it’s one more than would have been if you hadn’t been there.”

Javier nods, glancing over at Lorraine and her husband who are tending to their kids. "It's done now. I am trying to not hold on to the past." He admits, swaying you to the music, and his dark eyes meet yours, "but some things just won't go away."

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You ask, slightly breathless at how mesmerizing his stare is.

Javier chuckles softly, “I don’t know. I- I don’t know what my future is, so I don’t want to drag you into my bullshit but I didn’t stop thinking about you, about that night. I’d like to get to know you more.” He confesses softly as the song comes to an end.

“I don’t care what your bullshit is.” You admit, smiling back at him. “I kept you in my prayers the entire time you were gone. And hoped that you were finding peace.” Your fingers caress his arm. “Do you want to go out for a drink after the reception?”

Javier nods, “I’d like that.” He offers you a soft smile just as his tía comes over to grab you. “Sweetheart, the drinks are getting low. We got more stored up?” She asks and you chuckle, “we are fully stocked. I’ll get it sorted.” You look at Javier and he nods, winking at you and he turns on the dance floor, near Danny and Maria, and he sees Lorraine. He decides it’s time to talk to her and he makes his way over to where she is standing with a glass of red wine in her hand. “Lorraine.” He greets her calm and cool.

Lorraine looks up at Javier and hates that he still looks so damn handsome. “About time you showed your face.” She hums as she lifts her glass to take a sip. “Good to see you, Jay.”

He shoves his hands in his jeans, “you, uh, you got your happy ending?” He asks, his gaze drifting over to her husband, and she smiles. “Yeah. I- I did. We weren’t supposed to be together. I see that now and I- it all worked out in the end.” She hums and Javier nods, “yeah. I’m glad you’re happy.” He says, telling her he doesn’t hold that over her anymore. He didn’t want to marry her. She got her happy ending. It worked out. “I’m very happy.” Lorraine says with a little bite to it, “good.” Javier nods, “I’ll see you around.” He nods to her husband as he approaches and Javier makes his way back to his Pa, counting down the time until the wedding is over so he can see you again.

Several times you look over to find Javier watching you. Making you smile and wave as you try to finish up the wedding activities so you can spend time with him. You see the interaction with Lorraine and you wonder how he feels about it. It didn’t seem to be acrimonious, which is a good thing. Finally, the couple rush off to their cars in a shower of birdseed and you walk over to where Javi is standing. “I’m done.” You tell him. “The clean up will wait until tomorrow.”

Javier grins, “good. You got your car? My Pa drove.” He says, knowing you might want to take your car so you’re in control. He glances around as the crowd begins to get into their cars and he sees his Pa.

“You can ride with me, mister DEA.” You hum teasingly, holding up your keys after your fish them out of a discreet pocket in your dress. “Where you want to go?”

Javier chuckles at your nickname and he wraps his arm around your waist as you walk towards his Pa. “What about that bar we met in that night?” He suggests and Chucho smirks as Javier appears in front of him. “I guess I’ll be driving home alone tonight…good news for me. Haven’t got to listen to your loud thoughts.” Chucho teases and Javier snorts, “I don’t think that much.” Chucho adjusts his hat, “that boy could put Aristotle to shame.” Javier rolls his eyes, “okay Pa. We are going for a drink.” Chucho nods, “have fun kids.” Javier squeezes your waist and lets you guide him to your car.

“So do you want to drive?” You ask him seriously. “I don’t know if you have issues where you like to be in control?” You ask gently. You know he has to have seen some shit and you want him to be comfortable.

Javier shakes his head, "I trust you. It's other people I don't trust, but baby...you can drive." He tilts his head, appreciating how considerate you are.

“Okay.” You reach your car and unlock the doors. “What made you decide to come to the wedding?” You ask curiously. “I can’t imagine you have a fondness for them.”

Javier snorts, opening the door for you to get in, "just my own." He quips, "but I love Danny. Practically changed his diapers and my tía...she was there for me after my mom died. I had to see Danny get married...even if weddings aren't my thing." He confesses, "look at us...you plan weddings...I run from them."

You snort and shake your head. “You ran from a lie.” You defend. “I think that despite your past, you are a ‘til death do us part’ kind of man and divorce isn’t an option. Lorraine knew that.”

He stands under the parking lot lights, his hand on your door, surprised at the way you just cut him open and found out who he is. He's been branded the casanova, the man whore who slept his way through Colombia, but you...you see that he can be more than that for the right woman. He can't help it. He lets go of your door, cups your cheeks, and surges forward to kiss you.

Your surprise quickly turns into desire. Moaning softly into his mouth when he opens up to slide his tongue against yours. You had expected the night to end like this, but you don’t mind it happening now.

His hands pull you close, enjoying the feel of your body against his, and his tongue caresses yours. You kiss for several moments until he pulls back, pecking your lips, and he nudges his nose with yours. "Drinks are on me." He murmurs, not wanting to assume you want him to go back to yours.

You hum softly. “That’s almost disappointing.” You admit breathlessly. “I was honestly hoping we weren’t going for drinks.” It’s probably wrong to assume he wants to jump into bed with you. It’s been years and he’s had a lot happen. You peck his lips again and pull away. “First round is on you. Then I’ll buy you a drink. Men should be treated too.”

Your words run on a loop in his head as you settle in your car and he shuts your door, walking around the back of the car to open the door and slide into the passenger seat. “Baby. Look at me.” He orders and you turn to look at him, a soft smile on your face that makes his heart race. “I want a drink at your place. Not the bar.”

“That sounds perfect to me.” You slide the key into the ignition and turn it. “You were sexy in the tuxedo, but you are even sexier in those jeans and boots.”

He can’t help but smirk, watching as you back out of the space and he leans back in his seat, happy to be driven. “You’re always sexy. In anything.” He confesses, eyeing the cute dress you’re wearing. “Even when you’re trying to be professional.”

“I think you might be biased.” You tease, looking over at him for a second before turning your attention back to the road. “Considering you’re the only groom I’ve ever thought about sleeping with, I’m pretty biased too. It was hard being professional around you.”

Javier snorts, rubbing his jaw as he turns to look out the window. “It feels like a lifetime ago since I was a groom. A lot of shit has happened since then but one thing hasn’t changed…I thought you were the prettiest damn thing I’d ever seen that day Lorraine introduced us. Felt goddamn guilty for that when I believed Lorraine was having my baby, but now? That thought is flashing in my brain.”

“I’m sure there were plenty of beautiful women around you.” You reach out and squeeze his knee. “You seem to attract them. Several women at the wedding kept watching you. Wondering who you were and how you could be so handsome.”

“Beautiful women, yes…beautiful on the inside? Not as much as you. There was one woman…her name is Helena. She - I’d give her money in exchange for information and we - she kept me company. I got her swept up in some bullshit meeting and she…we had to fight to get her back and when we did…she was never the same.” Javier confesses, reaching for the hand on his hand to take it in his.

You hear the pain in his voice, the regret. Something bad happened to her and he blames himself. “But you got her back.” You murmur softly. “You cared enough to fight. That’s more than some people, most people.” You sigh. “You are a good man, Javier. I’ve always thought so.”

He finds it hard to believe, the flash of Helena on the floor in that apartment makes him feel sick, but your hand in his chases that away. Helena is safe with her son. He got her out. “I’ve done a lot of bad things, baby, but I’m trying to be better. I want to be better.”

“We all do bad things sometimes.” You know that his are probably darker than most, but he was going after cruel and ruthless men. “All that matters is your future.”

He offers you a half smile, squeezing your hand, and he lets go so you can drive to your house. The radio plays and he looks out the window as Laredo passes by. So much has changed within him but his town is exactly the same as when he left it. He is a different man. Jaded and heavy with guilt and regret, but you are here. He wants to be better.

It doesn’t take long for you to pull up to your house, it’s the same one that Javier had been parked in front of when he left Lorraine at the altar. “Home sweet home.” You joke, pulling into the driveway and parking. “Except this time, I have better booze than just beer.”

Javier chuckles, "beer suits me just fine but I'll drink anything. Except gin." He wrinkles his nose, "never could get into gin." He confesses and opens the door, getting out of your car and he hangs back as you lock your car and walk to your front door. He's a little nervous. He can't deny that. He's thought about you so many times and now he's here. You unlock your door and he follows you inside, "you've painted." He observes, glancing around your living room.

“Yeah.” You haven’t done much to the place as far as redecorating, but changing the paint freshened it up. “Surprised you noticed.” You admit with a grin. “We were….busy when you were here last time.” You set your purse down on the entry table and lock the door behind Javier. “Beer?”

Javier chuckles, “still noticed the little things. Wanted to memorize that night.” He confesses and nods, watching you kick off your shoes before you make your way over to the fridge. He takes his boots off, leaving them by the front door, and he decides to make his way to your sofa. He’s a little on edge, unsure of what to do or say when you didn’t really do anything but act on your lust when he saw you last time.

You take a minute to compose yourself before you grab the beers. A little nervous since this is more than just a night of desire. You decide that you will let him lead the night and come back out into the living room to find him sitting and waiting for you. “Do you want to watch tv, talk?” You ask, bringing the beers over. “I’m not exactly sure what you want to do.”

He takes the beer from your hand, thanking you, and you settle down on the sofa next to him with expectant eyes. “I want to talk. I want to know more about you.” He decides, knowing this return home is supposed to be a fresh start for him and he wants to try and do things differently this time.

“Okay.” You smile, finding it sweet that he is making an effort to talk. “Well, while you’ve been gone, I’ve expanded my business.” You admit. “I have two coordinators that work for me, planning weddings when I am doing other events. It’s lucky that I was even at the wedding today, to be honest.”

Javier’s eyebrows raise, “wow. That’s - that’s incredible.” He compliments you, “you’ve done so well and you deserve it. You’re damn good at your job.” He compliments you with a wink. “I loved how passionate you were and you managed to control Lorraine when she wanted to go over budget.”

You sigh softly. “I wish I could have controlled her better.” You admit. “She would go off on tangents, and to be honest? Her wedding colors clashed horrendously.”

Javier chuckles, “fucking awful. I know nothing about weddings but even I could see it clashed. She didn’t care about how it looked as long as it was the most expensive.” He shakes his head, “I’m sure her new husband got stung by her taste for money.” He snorts and you tilt your head, “jealous?” Javier shakes his head, “absolutely not. We were not - I didn’t even want to marry her.” He rubs his hands on his jeans, “and seeing you. How sweet you are. How beautiful you are inside and out made me realize what a mistake I was making but I thought she was having my kid and I couldn’t walk away from that.”

“Hmmmmm.” You take a sip of your beer and tuck your feet up under you as you turn towards him. “And you think you aren’t a good man.” You huff. “You stepped up, even if you didn’t want that life, some men wouldn’t. Most men wouldn’t. You could have just easily told her it wasn’t your problem. But you didn’t.” The entire point was useless since she was never actually pregnant, but he had believed she was.

He smiles softly after he takes a sip of his beer, “always been fighting my corner. That’s why you’re too damn good for me. I’ll just disappoint you.” He confesses, “I’m good for sex. Emotions? Not really my wheelhouse but I know how I feel about you.” He confesses, his eyes meeting yours as he lays himself bare.

“And how do you feel?” You ask curiously. “Because I’ve never been a grand gesture kind of woman.” You confess, leaning in as you grin. “I would actually hate ninety-eight percent of the weddings I plan. I want a man who might not give me flowers ever, but listens when I talk about my day.” You hum. “He might not tell me he loves me every ten seconds but he shows me when he touches me.”

"I've never been a man who envisioned himself having a marriage like my parents. Especially after seeing how much my momma and my pa loved each other. I wasn't - I wasn't a good man in Colombia. Whenever I do take a moment to imagine a future married...any kids...I always see you." He admits, "I might not talk about my feelings but I can show you."

“Then you’ll show me.” You decide, setting your beer down and scooting closer to him. “I don’t have to have words.” You promise. “Not all the time, even if I give them to you.”

He looks at you, seeing a future he never imagined and still doesn’t believe he deserves, but he can’t help but lean forward. He reaches out to cup your cheek, leaning in to softly kiss you.

You don’t pull away or lunge forward. You let him slowly kiss you. Less hunger in his lips than the last time, but there is a tenderness that has you sighing into the kiss. Your lips curving up in a smile.

He caresses your cheek with his thumb, his lips slide against yours and his tongue pushes into your mouth. He groans into your mouth, chasing the memories of the night he left Lorraine and you are giving that to him.

The first moan is so soft, breathed into his mouth as you shuffle closer. Pressing against him and reaching up to caress his shoulders. He said he was good at sex, but he’s also incredible at making you feel like the only woman on the planet.

The kiss is slow, lazy slides of his tongue against yours, while his hand caresses down to your neck. He groans, blindly setting his beer down and he reaches for you, grabbing your ass to drag you into his lap.

You squeal slightly, but it’s amazing how easily you are transferred into his lap. Pulling away breathlessly to grin at him before you duck your head down to kiss him again. “Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

He chuckles against your lips, “so are you. Fuck. Thought about you so many goddamn times.” He confesses, his hands sliding under your dress and under your panties to squeeze your flesh. His lips press against your jaw and down your neck, enjoying the gasps and moans that escape your lips.

“Now you have me.” You hum, tilting your head to let him do whatever he wants to your neck. “You can do all those things that you’ve thought about. I’m very willing.”

“You have me.” He grunts against your collarbone, “have you had any thoughts? I’m all yours. You can do what you want to me.” He counters with a smirk against your skin.

“You shouldn’t tell me that.” You groan, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair. “Never did get to suck your cock like I wanted to, but I think I’ll just ride it right now.”

“Take me how you want. Got tested when I came back. All clean.” He reveals, pressing a kiss to your throat as you look at him, “ride my cock, suck it. Sit on my face. I’ll willingly let you do it all.”

“Oh god.” You moan. “Let me strip you down. Kiss up and down your body and suck your cock until you are begging to feel my pussy wrapped around it.”

“Fuck.” He pants, nodding and breathless as you shift off of him. He fumbles, working fast to unbutton his shirt as you stand up to grip the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head. “So fucking pretty.” He murmurs, dragging his eyes down your body as he shrugs off his shirt.

You reach out and push the material of his shirt off his broad shoulders. Finding that his body has softened slightly, not as lean as he was before and you love it. You wonder if he knows how sexy he is as you lean in and kiss along his collar bone.

“Jesus.” He pants, eyes closing slowly as he tilts his head back while you do what you want to his body. His cock is already hardening and he groans your name when you kiss his neck.

“That’s right.” You hum, scrapping your teeth over his skin and smirking when you feel him shudder. “I’m going to make you forget everything but my name. And how good I make you feel.” Your fingers slide the end of his belt free of the loop and you start working on unbuckling it. “Burned up so many vibrators thinking about this cock. How good you felt inside me.”

He lets you do what you want. Last time he was in control but right now, he’s happy to let you take the lead. He groans when you work on unzipping his pants and he almost chokes when you pull his cock out to wrap your fingers around it. “Thought about you when I had lonely nights with my hand around my cock.”

“Can’t believe you had too many of those.” You praise, leaning down and spitting on the tip before kissing your way back up his stomach as you steer him back towards the couch again.

“Plenty to think of you.” He promises, breathless and you start to pump his cock. “Fuck. You’re so goddamn pretty.” He murmurs, watching you and he leans in to kiss you but you pull back, a smirk on your face that makes him twitch in your hand.

“Be a good boy for me.” You coo playfully, not minding really if he takes over but you feel like he deserves to let loose. To give control over to someone else and just let the pleasure cloud his mind of all those bad memories. He sinks back onto the sofa and you continue to pump his cock as you kneel down between his spread thighs.

His dark eyes watch you as you shift between his thighs, cock leaking pre-cum as he twitches again, and when you finally take him into your mouth, he lets out a guttural groan, his Adam's Apple bobbing as he swallows.

He’s salty and musky. Delicious on your tongue as you slowly take him deeper and then pull back to release him with a pop.

You look like a goddamn angel and devil in one as you smirk at him before you take him back into your mouth. His hands grip the edge of your sofa cushion and he is transfixed by you.

You can tell he likes it. His stomach heaves and his chest puffs out before deflating with a low groan. You know the man has had blow jobs, but you wonder when the last time someone really took their time with it. You keep your tongue soft, your mouth wet as you push him deep into the back of your throat, pausing to swallow so you don’t choke.

Javier groans, watching you, and he caresses your cheek. It bulges under his touch with your mouth full of his cock and he groans, “you’re so pretty.” He murmurs, closing his eyes for a second.

You hum around him, wanting to tell him that he is just as pretty, but you don’t want to pull your mouth away. Not when his eyes flutter closed and his head rolls back slightly in pleasure. Watching him as the tension in his body practically melts away as you suck his cock.

He feels like he’s in fucking heaven. You suck his cock with an enthusiasm he hasn’t experienced in so goddamn long and he moans your name as you hollow your cheeks.

You look down, concentrating on taking him as deep as you can. Loving how he’s responding to you. How wrecked he already sounds. Your hands slide up his jean clad thighs and you reach for the band to tug them down. You had just pulled his cock out in your eagerness to touch him, but now you want to strip him while his cock is down your throat.

He groans and lifts his ass to allow you to drag the jeans down his legs and he’s bare before you, his cock down your throat, and he can’t believe how quickly you’ve unravelled him. In bed and in his heart. “Fuck, hermosa.” He pants, caressing your cheek, “I’m close.” He warns you in case you don’t like to swallow.

Your hands hold his thighs as you hum around him. If he wants to cum down your throat, that’s perfectly fine with you. You are dripping into your panties and his groans might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard in your life.

Your hum sends him over the edge and he lets out a choked groan as his cock twitches in your mouth. Hot spurts of cum hit the back of your throat and you swallow them down, making him pant and tilt his head back as you milk him dry.

It has to have been awhile for him. The way he just cums and cums has you struggling to swallow all of him down but you only let a few drops escape from the sides of your mouth. Whining at how fucking sensitive your clit is as you drink him down, listening to his sounds as he comes apart for you.

He slumps against your sofa when he stops twitching, his eyes squeezed shut until he finally gets the strength to lift his head so he can look down at you. His cum is dripping down your chin and he groans, “fuck. You are a goddamn angel.” He murmurs, reaching for you to pull you up into his lap from your place on the floor.

You hum, grinning slightly at his description of you as you wipe your chin with your hand and then lick his cum off of your palm. “A little salty.” You tease, leaning in and kissing his chin since you don’t know how he feels about kissing someone with his cum on their tongue. “Need to drink more pineapple juice, baby. Makes it sweeter.”

He chuckles, “I’ll make a note of that.” He grips the back of your neck to drag you closer so he can kiss you properly. He doesn’t care about the taste of his cum on your tongue as his slides into your mouth, eager to show you how much he enjoyed that.

You make a noise of surprise and melt into the kiss. Letting him take over as you lean into his strong body. You know it will take him a little while to recover, but you don’t mind at all.

“Fuck. So gorgeous.” He murmurs, kissing down your neck, nipping the skin, and he runs his tongue along your collarbone. Your fingers tangle in his hair and he groans against your sternum, shifting his mouth so he can take your nipple into his mouth.

It’s your turn to moan, letting him twist you around to where your back is against the side of your sofa. “Javier.” You tug on his hair and that just makes him suckle harder. “So good baby, it feels so good when you touch me.”

He cups your other breast, squeezing it until he switches over to take your other nipple into his mouth. He bites down and loves the way you gasp and he sucks again, releasing it with a pop and he smirks as he starts to kiss your stomach.

“Do you want to go to the bedroom?” You ask, knowing the couch would be cramped and you feel like he might want to take his time since he needs to recover.

Javier nods, shifting off the sofa and he holds his hand out towards you. You grin and take it, letting him guide you to your bedroom. “You still remember where it is?” You tease and he chuckles, “I remember every detail of that night.” Your heart flutters and he enters your bedroom and spins you so he can press his lips to yours again, walking you backwards towards the bed

You love how he doesn’t let you fall back on the bed without him coming too. Your knees hit the bed and when you sit down, he follows, kneeling on the bed and hovering over you with his mouth still fused to yours.

He loves how you react to him and he’s quick to pick up where he left off in the living room. Kissing his way down your stomach, he groans and hooks his fingers in your panties, dragging them down while he watches you wiggle on the bed. He tosses them over his shoulder, making you giggle, and the giggle transforms into a moan as he grabs your waist, lifting you higher up the bed so he can spread your thighs. Javier groans at the sight of your cunt. “Fuck. Missed her.” He murmurs to himself, reaching out to slide his fingers through your folds.

You were about to comment on that, hearing him refer to your pussy like that, but then he steals your breath away. His fingers are quick, nimble as he presses them against your clit and then moves down to slide them deep inside you. “Oh fuck.” You gasp out, clenching down around the thick digits.

He watches you with rapture, the lamplight making your skin glow, and he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you. He isn't in a rush, dark eyes taking in every detail, and his free hand caresses your thigh.

Your eyes close as he works you open. Feeling the way that you start to soak his fingers as they move in and out of your needy walls. Thighs open, chest starting to heave as he finds that spot that has you moaning his name when he presses against it.

He loves the way you clamp down on his fingers when he presses against that spot and he continues to work it, pumping his fingers. He wants you to cum like this for him then he's going to make you cum on his tongue. He twists his wrist, pressing his thumb to your clit, and continues focusing on that spot.

“Kiss me.” You beg softly, wanting to feel his lips on your while he plays your body like it’s his personal instrument. He’s adept at making you feel everything, the rough callus on the side of his finger scraping against your sensitive walls and making you shiver.

​​He can't deny you so he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, his fingers curling deeper inside you, and your choked cry puffs against his lips when he pulls back for a moment. "Cum for me, hermosa." He demands, wanting to feel it, see it, after imagining it so many times

You completely huge yourself over to him, pressing your lips to his again while your hips chase his fingers. Letting him curl them deep, pulling moans from your body as he pumps them deep inside. “Javi. Javi, I’m gonna cum.” You promise breathlessly.

He loves how breathless you are and he keeps that position and pace, watching your brow furrow when he pulls back to watch you. Your cry hits his ears as you clamp down on his digits, soaking them, and his spent cock twitches at the sensation.

The orgasm pulses through you. Making your tits shake as your body twitches and jerks in pleasure. Fingers twisted into the sheets while he works you through it. Groaning his approval in your ear. “So good hermosa. That’s it. Cum for me.”

His growled demand sends you over the edge and you moan, clamping down on his digits and he hisses at the way you soak his fingers. "That's it." He coos, working you through it by pumping his fingers.

Turning your head, you kiss along his jaw, panting as you slowly relax into the bed. Blissed out by how good it feels to cum from something other than your toys or your own hand. “Fuck.” You whimper. “You are so good at that.”

He chuckles and smirks, continuing to pump his fingers slowly and he shifts until he’s laying on his stomach between your thighs. He kisses the sensitive flesh, knowing you’re still riding the last wave, and he slowly kisses his way to your core until he softly kisses your clit.

“Javier.” You moan his name gently, as if saying it too loudly would stop him from touching you like this. Your toes curl against his ribs and he hums as you lift your legs onto his shoulders. “Baby, you are so good.” You praise.

He groans against your wet flesh as you praise him and he withdraws his fingers, making you whine. He soon replaces them with his tongue, sliding it through your folds to lap at your cum.

“Oh fuck, oh god.” You whine over and over as he starts to lick through your folds. Tasting you as if he is savoring a delicious meal. Taking his time with his dark eyes fixed on your face and his lips curled up in a cocky smirk. “Javi.”

He groans, sliding his hand up to squeeze your breast, your slick still on his fingers as he pinches your nipple. His tongue slides up to flick your clit, loving how your heels dig into his back at the sensation.

“You-“ you choke out a sound of surprise when he sucks your clit into his mouth and pulls harshly. Loving how he tempers his tongue and then changes the tempo. Your nipple stiffens under his touch and starts to ache pleasurably.

He is happy to stay between your thighs all night, loving the sounds you make, and he is eager to push you over the edge again and again. He flicks his tongue over your clit, closing his eyes as he moans so the vibrations add to the sensation.

You swear that you are already seeing stars as he works you up again. He’s not rushing it, taking his time to make sure that your descent into madness is thorough. “Oh fuck, you should be a porn star with that tongue.” You gasp. “You licked all of your informants' knowledge out of their cunts, didn’t you?”

Javier chuckles against your folds, “maybe.” He resumes his attack on your pussy, needing to hear more praise, and he groans when you tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing him deeper into your folds.

“Yesssss, you did.” You moan. “They should have paid you.” You start to rock your hips down onto his tongue. “You’d be rich.”

He smirks at your constant praise and he lets you use his face. His tongue flicking your clit and pushing into your cunt while you moan his name. His hands slide down and under you to squeeze your ass.

He lifts your hips up. Bringing your pussy closer to his face. Wanting to devour more of you. You whimper in pleasure and tug on his hair. “God, you need to keep doing that.” You beg.

He follows your order, eager to make you fall apart on his tongue, and he sucks on your clit like those stupid candies Colleen used to have on her desk that he’d steal and suck on when he was trying to cut back on cigarettes. “Fuck. Cum for me.” He rasps, lips smacking until he resumes sucking, his dark eyes on you as you writhe above him.

You shiver, helpless to do anything but obey his command. Your body lurches and you cry out his name loudly. Screaming it out for anyone to hear if they were close enough. “Javi!”

Your thighs snap shut, squeezing his head as you tremble. Your fingers almost pull out his hair but he doesn’t give a shit as he works you through your orgasm, lapping at your cum with a hum of satisfaction even if his cock is aching while pressed into the mattress.

“Javi, no more.” You whimper when it becomes too much for you, pressing your hand against his forehead to pull him off your clit. Panting softly, you start to giggle. “Jesus Christ, you almost killed me.”

He can't help but chuckle, kissing your thighs up to your stomach as you release his head from your grip. He shifts, kissing up your stomach until he takes your nipple into his mouth once again. He quickly switches and he grunts when you cup his cheeks, dragging him up to your mouth and he eagerly presses his lips to yours.

This time, you are the one sliding your tongue into the other’s mouth, not caring about your taste on his lips. Pouring yourself into the kiss and making sure that he knows how you feel without needing to say anything. Your arms are around him, keeping him close as your legs wrap around his waist and you feel his cock pressing against your lower belly.

He doesn't beg to fuck you. It's been a while since he was inside you and he doesn't want to assume you want him to fuck you. He'd be happy with oral. He kisses you back, letting you slide your tongue against his.

“I’m clean.” You murmur against his lips. “On the pill.” You add. “But I don’t have any condoms.”  You pull back slightly. “It’s been awhile for me so I don’t keep them around.”

“I’m clean. Got tested when I got back stateside. Haven’t been with anyone since. Fuck, you sure?” He asks, cupping your cheek to look into your eyes. You nod and he shifts his weight to his forearm next to your head while he reaches down to grip his cock. He is measured as he rubs the head of his cock through your folds, tapping your clit enough to make you moan, and he chuckles as he positions himself at your entrance. He lifts his gaze, starting to push into you, his heart pounding in his chest.

It feels amazing. The slight stretch is nothing compared with the way your heart leaps at the heated gaze in his eyes. The emotions showing in their dark depths as he rocks into you. You reach up and caress his cheek, almost confessing those three words, but you don’t want him to feel trapped by that. “Javier.” You whisper his name and lunge up to press your lips to his when he bottoms out inside you.

It only feels like this with you. He’s a man who has buried himself in cigarettes and booze and sex since he left your bed but it’s never felt like this. The mind numbing feel of your hot pussy squeezing his cock and now, it’s blazing hot without the condom on. It’s like he’s connected to you in every way and it almost takes his breath away. He’s not a man of many words when it comes to how he feels so he starts to move instead, rocking into you with a low groan of your name against your lips until his tongue pushes into your mouth.

The moment completely takes hold. Little grunts being traded back and forth as your tongues curl around the others and your hands grasp greedily. If you were to use a word, you would call it lovemaking, both of you rocking to the natural instinct to crave this intimacy. He is amazing, and every kiss, every caress silently tells him that while you moan your approval.

He’s so used to frantic fucking, trying to get off as quickly as possible to make it back to his desk or to a stakeout, but right now, he can take his time. He murmurs your name again, kissing along your jaw, and he groans when your nails scratch down his back a little. “Fuck.” He hisses in pleasure and his thrust is harder.

“You like that?” You purr, digging your nails down his back again and loving how his hips nap forward sharply again. “You like being marked up, my nails telling you how good you are fucking me?”

“Fuck.” He curses again, “I- shit - keep doing it.” He orders, his pace picking up, and he grabs your thigh to change the angle his cock pushes into you. “Feel so goddamn good, hermosa.” He groans into your neck, breathing you in.

You hum in delight, finding something that he apparently can’t resist. You love learning about his needs. Turning your head and kissing his cheek as your nails rake up and down his spine. “You’re so good. Gonna make me cum all over your cock. Soak you. Fuck Javi!”

Your words make him twitch inside you and he rocks a little faster, needing to feel you clamp down on his cock. “Goddamn baby.” He murmurs, “tell me what you need.”

“I need-“ he’s brushing against your clit but it’s not enough. One hand on his back lets go to snake down between your bodies. Starting to rub your clit frantically. Caught up in the need to cum for him.

Javier tuts, letting go of your thigh, and he bats your hand away, replacing it with his fingers. He wants you to focus on feeling the pleasure while he gives it to you. “Good, baby? That what you need?” He asks roughly.

“Yessssssss.” You whine, tossing your head back and moaning his name. “Javi- I’m so close. More baby, just- so close.” You are starting to ramble, your body shaking because you are so close.

He can feel how close you are and he continues working your clit, groaning at how tight you squeeze him and when you fall apart, his chest heaves. You gush around him and cry out his name, making him hiss, "that's it baby. Fuck. That's it."

All you can do is ride it out. Trapping in pleasure so thick it takes your breath away as he starts to fuck you even faster when he can finally move again.

He works you through it, continuing to rub your clit until you whine in protest. He slows his thrusts and presses kisses to your neck, “so good baby.” He murmurs, loving how you relax beneath him.

“You aren’t going to pull out, are you?” You ask, caressing his side softly. “I want to feel you inside me. Filling me up.” You like a little cum play and are willing to risk it with Javi, never having anyone cum inside you without a condom since your last serious relationship.

He hasn’t cum inside anyone since Helena and that was only because of their closeness and trust in her. He used a condom with every other woman. “Fuck. Are you sure?” He asks, wanting to make sure you want it because he’s close.

“Yes, please.” You moan, nodding. “If you want. I trust you. I want to feel it.” You have thought about it more than you can admit since that one night with him. Using it as fuel for your masturbation fantasies.

He nods, wanting it too, to completely possess you in this moment. He groans, thrusting into you to work you through your orgasm, and it doesn’t take long for him to fall over the edge. He thrusts a half dozen more times, grunts escaping his lips, and pushes deep until he’s pressing against your cervix. With a deep groan of your name, his cock pulses and he paints your cunt with his hot cum.

It feels so good. Hot pulses spurting inside you, making you moan his name again and cup his cheeks to kiss him while he’s rocking into you. Emptying himself with sexy groans every time he grinds deeper. Until he finally stops and you feel some of his cum leaking out from around his cock buried inside you. “Fuck, I love you.” You murmur softly.

He isn’t surprised, he has seen it in your eyes, and back when you were planning his wedding, he pushed that aside to be a good man but now, he’s unattached and time has passed. “Love you too.” He confesses, eyes closed as he buries his face in your neck.

You hum softly, enjoying the feeling of his weight pressing you down into the mattress. “When do you think the DEA is going to stop punishing you?” You ask about ten minutes later after you’ve both cleaned up and he’s tucked you into his side. He’s trying to stop smoking, so he’s chewing on a piece of nicorette gum and playing with your hair.

He sighs, “I don’t know. It depends if they will let me back on the job or if I’m given severance pay. I fucked up so I don’t know what they will decide.” He confesses, “but until they decide, I’ll be here. With you…if you’ll have me.” He adds, raising his eyebrows when you pull back from him to look at him.

He looks so doubtful that you roll your eyes when you lean in to press your lips to his. “Of course I’ll have you.” You huff, kissing him several times before you pull back again. “You can stay here, or just have sleepovers when you want. Whatever is comfortable for you. I’m assuming you’re helping your dad?”

He nods, “Pa is getting older. I want to help him on the ranch. Been replacing the fencing and been shovelling shit.” He chuckles when you wrinkle your nose, “he’s getting older. He can’t do it all anymore.” Javier sighs and caresses your shoulder, “if I do get accepted back and sent off again…I want you to remember how I feel but I’m not gonna make you wait for me. It’s not fair. If you find someone, you be happy and you forget about me.”

It’s practical and you hate it. “I don’t know if I would wait.” You admit softly, “I don’t want to waste years. Not if I want kids.” He might not want children at all, especially after Lorraine tried to trap him.

He nods, cupping your cheek, “I know. Shit, timing just isn’t on our side but we don’t know what’s gonna happen. I’m just saying I don’t want you to wait in case I am gone years again. You deserve better and you deserve to be happy.” He says and leans in to softly kiss you.

You don’t offer to go with him. It would be impractical, with your business and you won’t ask him to stay. Not when he still obviously wants to be a DEA agent. “So do you, Javier.” You remind him gently. “If it’s not me, I want you to find someone who is a shelter from the storms for you.”

He smiles sadly, knowing that timing might not be on your side again, “never know. Might be handing in my badge and you’ll be stuck with me. Let’s see what happens, cariño.” He murmurs, brushing your cheek with his thumb. 

**** 

His heart is heavy as he leans against the phone booth, fist clenched on the metal as he listens to the operator connect him to your phone. You answer with your name and his heart clenches, “hey baby. I- I said I’d call you once I found out my fate and, uh, they want me back. I’m flying out to Cali tomorrow.” He reveals, shifting his hand to rub his nose.

“Tomorrow, wow.” Your heart drops but you swallow down any questions that you have. You had known, deep down, that he would be sent somewhere else. The drug war was one they were losing and they needed good agents like Javier. “They didn’t give you a lot of time.” You chuckle, although the sound falls flat when he’s quiet on the other end. You sigh softly. “Good luck, Javier.” You murmur. “I’ll keep praying that you will be safe.” He hums on the other end and you feel tears start to build behind your eyes. “I love you.” You don’t expect a response and pull the phone away to quietly hang it up.

"I love you too." He murmurs, eyes shut as the guilt swells within him but there's nothing he can do. He loves you but he has to go to Cali. He has to redeem himself. No matter the cost. **** 

Javier rubs his cheek when he returns to his apartment. He slept with someone last night to try and forget about you. He can already tell that he will be in Cali for a while. He knows you'll be moved on by then. You're too beautiful and smart to be available by the time he gets home. Yet he's ashamed to admit that he's selfish. He reaches for his phone after lighting a cigarette (he'd abandoned the gum after one day in his new job). The dial tone echoes in his ear and he waits, wondering if you'll answer the phone.

“Hello?” You are cooking dinner for yourself, a change from the few weeks that you had been feeding yourself and Javi. Or coming home to find Javi had already thrown something on the small grill in your backyard. Today was stressful and you are unwinding with a big glass of wine and a beer.

The guilt swirls in his stomach and he wonders if he should tell you the truth. "Hey baby. It's me." He announces and he can hear your smile in your voice when you say his name, it makes his heart thump. "How are you doing?" He asks, wanting to hear your voice.

“I’m okay.” You tuck the phone under your chin and start to stir your food. “I’m just making some dinner to have with my wine.” You tell him. “It was a long day with a very difficult bride, but luckily her mother has some common sense.” You hear him exhale and know that he has to be smoking a cigarette. “How are you?”

Javier taps the cigarette on the side of the ashtray, "I- I'm not so great. Been digging into what's been going on here and I - I don't know how long I'll be away trying to take these bastards done. Baby...I slept with someone last night." He confesses, wanting you to hate him. If you hate him, he won't have hope and he won't care how long it takes to take Cali down.

You swallow harshly, stopping what you are doing and setting the spoon down so you can grip the phone. “I see.” You had hoped that he would go longer than a week before moving on, but that wasn’t to be the case. “You and I aren’t together, Javier.” You remind him. “You are free to sleep with whoever you want. Just like I am.”

"I know." He murmurs, closing his eyes for a second, "I- shit - I was trying to forget about you because I ain't gonna be home anytime soon. I don't want you to wait for me." He says with conviction, "but she - I woke up and instantly regretted it. She wasn't you."

“You don’t owe me any explanation, Javi.” You wish you could reach through the phone. Pull him close and hug him. You almost offer to come to visit him, but it would be a bad idea. You don’t need to distract him. He explained that he needed to redeem himself and you understand the drive behind his determination. “I’m not mad.” You promise. “A little hurt, but I’ll get over that.”

"I know. I know, hermosa. Baby...I just - shit." He rubs his forehead, smoke curling up into the air from the cigarette between his fingers, "I'm sorry." He whispers, wishing things were different and he didn't have to choose between the two most important things to him.

“Javi, I-“ you hear the anguish in his voice and you know that he is struggling with what he wants. “I love you.” You promise him. “But I want you to concentrate on your job, your mission to take the Cali cartel down.” You say steadily. “You do what you need to do. Be safe. And I’ll still be praying for you.”

He knows he's hurt you but he had to tell you in hopes you'd see that he isn't worthy of your love. "Thank you." He murmurs, knowing it's more than what he deserves.. "Is it okay if I call you? You know...when shit gets hard?" He knows he's being selfish but he wants to keep hold of you in some small way.

“Baby….” You sigh softly. “You can call me whenever you need to.” You promise. “In fact, I’ve got a cellular phone.” You had just gotten it a few days ago and haven’t given out the number. “Let me give you the number.”

He immediately snubs his cigarette out and he reaches for the pen and paper on his coffee table. “I’m ready.” He says and you tell him the number which he eagerly writes down. “Thank you.” He murmurs, tracing the number with his fingers, another connection to you.

“Have you eaten today?” You ask, making him sigh. “No.” He admits, making you shake your head. “You should go get something to eat, Javi. You can’t live off of booze and cigarettes.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll eat something.” He promises, knowing he won’t get away with telling you anything else. “I’ll call you.” He vows, “until you tell me to stop.”

“That won’t happen.” You know that eventually the calls will taper off, but you would never turn him away. “So you keep calling, so I know you are safe, okay, baby?”

He feels relieved that you’re not telling him to fuck off and never call him again. He knows he will call you when times are tough. You’re his light in the darkness. Something to work towards. “Thank you.” He murmurs, “I- I’ll let you go. Let you eat your dinner.”

“I’ll talk to you soon, Javier.” You murmur softly. “I love you.” Again, you don’t expect anything in return and gently hang up the phone. You might hear from him or you might not. You can never tell with him.

**** 

Javier adjusts his duffel bag over his shoulder as he makes his way off the plane from Bogotá. He is ready to return home, Cali was a mess but he did it. He redeemed himself. He had called his Pa to tell him he was coming home a few days ago and he didn’t ask about you. He doesn’t want to know if you are with someone…he wants to get home before he gets that heartbreaking news. After that first week, he hasn’t buried himself in sex. The guilt was too much and he didn’t want to be involved in more complications. He makes his way out into the terminal and he nearly stumbles when he sees you standing there. He murmurs your name and stops in front of you. “You’re here.”

You are leaning against your car, arms folded over your chest as you watch him stop short. A surprised look on his face makes you smile. “Welcome home, Javier.” You push off the car and step closer to him. “I hope you don’t mind. Your dad told me you were coming in and I offered to pick you up.” You won’t say that you didn’t date while he was gone, but nothing ever went past a few dinners. You reach out and caress his arm. “How long are you here for?” You ask softly. “Chucho couldn’t tell me.”

He’s surprised to see you but so happy, and takes your hand in his when it slides down his arm. “I’m here for good. Retired from the DEA. Turned in my badge. It’s done.” He confesses, “I’m home for good.” He adds and he braces himself for you to tell him you’ve got a boyfriend or shit, a husband.

“That’s great.” You light up when he tells you that and there’s only one thing keeping you from pressing your lips to his. Your eyes slide behind him, looking for someone that might have followed him out. “You didn’t bring someone home, did you?” You ask softly.

He shakes his head, “didn’t sleep with anyone past that first week.” He promises and squeezes your hand, “what about you? Boyfriend? Fiancé? Husband?” He tests all of them and each time you shake your head. You’re single. His heart pounds in his chest and he lets go of your hand. He cups your cheeks and looks into your eyes, “marry me. I don’t want to wait anymore. I love you. I know what I want. It’s you. As my wife.”

You are surprised, eyes widening as you stare into his eyes. Looking for any hint of doubt, of regret for blurting out something so impulsive. All you find is hope swimming in his eyes, want trapped beneath the surface. “Yes.” You whisper breathlessly, starting to smile back at him. “But I want to elope.”

He grins, nodding, “yes. Whatever you want, baby.” He promises, leaning in to kiss you. He loves you so much and he can’t believe you’re giving him another chance. He thought he would’ve lost you during his time in Cali. You press your lips to his and his hands shift to grip your waist, dragging you against him. He pulls back a moment later, “are you sure you don’t want to plan your own wedding? Or hire someone? You’ve spent so long giving everyone else their special day. You don’t want your own?” He asks, a frown on his face as he cups your cheek.

“All that matters is that you and I are married.” You promise. “All the other shit doesn’t matter. I just want to start our life together, Javi. I don’t need a dress or a day to do that. Do you want a wedding?” You ask seriously.

He shakes his head, “I want whatever you want. All I want is you.” He promises, knowing that this is so different from Lorraine. She wanted the biggest wedding money can buy. You just want him. “I love you, soon to be Mrs Peña.” He smirks, cupping the back of your neck, “and we can go tomorrow and get you a ring.”

“That works for me.” You let him drag you closer, pressing your lips against his and you smile happily. There was a wedding in Javier Peña’s future after all. Just not the one that you had met because of.

​​

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: Cerberus...

Cerberus: *crying and whining because MC made contact with another dog (Frost)*

MC: Cerberus, please don't cry... You're still my baby.

Cerberus: *bares his teeth* *growling a little*

MC: ...

MC: Pft— Just let me hug you, you big baby.

Ace and Deuce: *looking at Grim*

Ace: Uh, MC? I think Grim is sulking too. *mischievous grin*

Grim: What? No, I'm not!

Satan: *holding Grim* You know, whenever you're feeling jealous, you only need to remember that MC loves you and everyone else in the family.

Grim: Mryah! I said I am not sulking!

Deuce: So, has Frost already left?

MC: Ah, yes. *petting Cerberus* He will only show up if I summon him.

Lucifer: That's good to know. Since I dislike the idea of him being with you 24/7.

Simeon: *chuckles* MC, you should've seen Lucifer when he was whining too.

Lucifer: *frowns*

Diavolo: *laughs* Come on, Lucifer! No need to deny it!

Lucifer: *frowns even more*

MC: Luci...

Lucifer: What?

MC: *smiles* Do you want to go on a date?

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: Just the two of us?

MC: Yes.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: I will check my schedule.

Satan: You have literally not done anything since we arrived in this world.

Satan: Schedule my ass.

Lucifer: I still need to look after you, you little shits.

Diavolo and Simeon: *laughing*

Ace and Deuce: Oh boy...

Cater: Guys~ Guess who I saw on a date yesterday~.

Riddle: Who is it?

Cater: *shows them the picture of Lucifer and MC kissing on a balcony*

Riddle and Trey: ...

Riddle: Cater, that is invasion of privacy.

Cater: Nah~ They saw me and invited me over to eat some snacks. I don't think they mind.

Trey: But still, don't show that to other students.

Trey: Especially Malleus.

Cater: ...

Cater: I might've already shown it to Lilia-chan...

Riddle and Trey: ...

Trey: I guess you can handle the consequences.

Cater: Don't be like that, Trey-kun!

Lucifer: What are you glaring at, Malleus?

Malleus: I am not glaring.

Lilia: *chuckles* He's just a little jealous.

Lilia: I had to remind him that it would be natural for you and the others to be intimate with MC because of the relationship you have with them.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: *smirks* Well, it's natural for you to be jealous, Malleus.

Lucifer: As you will never know the taste of their lips or feel their passionate gaze.

Malleus: *glaring intensifies*

Lilia: ...

Lilia: I've been noticing it for a while, but why are you singling him out?!

Vil: Potato! Are those hickeys?!

MC: ...

MC: Vil, you startled me. *just woke up and went downstairs to go to the kitchen*

Asmo: Ooh~ Darling~ Did you enjoy your time with Lucifer~?

Vil: ...

Vil: Right. I forgot that you are married, Potato.

MC: Haha, no. It's fine.

Asmo: Didn't he go easy on you, darling? Your legs are trembling a little.

Vil: ...

MC: Asmo, babe. I will appreciate it if you stop pointing things out.

Asmo: Awwwww~ I'm just admiring your beauty~ There is nothing wrong with that~. *chuckles*

Asmo: Here, let me give you some aftercare~.

Vil: ...

Vil: I will be going back to my dorm.

Vil: And inform the teachers that you won't be teaching today.

MC: Thanks, Vil. *yawns*

Vil: ...

Vil: On the other hand, I think I will be staying here with you after informing the teachers.

Vil: I don't trust Asmodeus to be alone with you.

Asmo: Ha! In case you have forgotten, dear. *shows him his wedding ring*

Asmo: I'm married with them too!

MC: ...

MC: Barb.

Barbatos: *appears next to them* *smiling*

Barbatos: MC needs some rest, gentlemen.

Barbatos: I recommend taking this altercation outside.

Asmo and Vil: ...

[vrystalius]

How would the Hashiras react to finding out that Sanemi is secretly dating the star Hashira ?Sanemi's girlfriend created the star breath and she became hashira around the same time as sanemi/she killed the lower moon 1. She and Sanemi were enemies turned lovers (can you include Sanemi's version please?/it was a discreet romance so she and Sanemi didn't tell the others)

Secretly dating Sanemi

The hashira’s reaction to Sanemi and you dating in secret.

Includes: Giyu, Kyojuro, Muichiro, Tengen, Gyomei, Mitsuri, Shinobu, Sanemi

Sanemi was pressing you up against the wooden walls, planting desperate kisses all along your neck and collar. He was tugging on your collar trying to reveal even more skin to him. The air in the armoury felt steamy.

Your hands gripped onto his uniform. “N-Nemi, not here, i-idiot- n-not now.” You shuddered as you felt his teeth sink into your skin, before placing multiple kisses on it. “Fuck, I want you now.” Sanemi mumbled into your ear. He pulled away, his lips hovering over yours. Just as he was about to lean in for another kiss, the door to the armoury opened and the love hashira stood in the frame.

“KYYAAHHHHH!!”

The news about you two spread quickly…. What do the others think about you two?

Giyu Tomioka

Giyu would not show the surprise on his face. His face is neutral as always, maybe even a little more gloomy than usual. But on the inside, he’d be a little envious of Sanemi. Of course he’d be finding love this soon. But those thoughts were fairly quickly overshadowed by confusion. How did you two even start dating? Weren’t you guys at each other’s throats the whole time? Well, you still are, but more romantically now.

His respect for Sanemi prevents him from judging you two harshly, and as long as your relationship doesn’t jeopardise any missions, Giyu doesn’t mind.

“Good for you two.”

Kyojuro Rengoku

He could be incredibly happy for you two. Kyojuro would have never thought that you two would be dating, since he was the one who used to break up your fights and make you mediate.

The flame hashira would slap Sanemi on the back, laughing and congratulating him loudly, unintentionally making everyone else on the estate hear him. Even though he was very surprised and confused after first finding it out, he quickly became your biggest supporter! From now on, he thinks everytime you and Sanemi are talking, you two are surely being romantic! Maybe even planning a date? He’s just a little curious.

“Oh? Are you going on date tonight? May I recommend a perfect establishment to visit? They have incredible sweet potato dishes!”

Muichiro Tokito

Muichiro could not care less. As long as you two aren’t being overly affectionate in front of him and don’t let this interfere with your duties as hashira, he does’t care.

He also didn’t care about your arguments before, so why would he care about you dating now? Also, he’d quickly forget about you two dating anyway.

“Oh? You two are in love?… Okay.”

Tengen Uzui

Tengen would be incredibly amused. Just to annoy Sanemi, he would pull you aside and give you “tips” on how to keep things flashy in the bedroom. Also, he would offer Sanemi help in case he has any questions about relationships, given that he has been in three relationships, now marriages, while Sanemi probably was never dating anyone. Of course, Tengen is only saying this to fuck around with him. He’s actually supportive and real happy for you.

Also, he would probably tell his wives about you two, shocking them as well.

“Don’t be shy, tell me… What’s it like, hm? Sanemi must be rough with ya. Or is he gentle? I see him go both ways.”

Gyomei Himejima

He knew about you two the whole time. Gyomei was planning this the whole time, ever since you became a hashira. He envisioned you with Sanemi since the start and gave the both of you little encouragements to make a move, without outright telling you. After you two started dating in secret, Gyomei could just tell how the energy between you two shifted.

But after the other hashira found out about you, Gyomei acted as if this is the first time he heard about this.

“I am truly happy for you two. I wish you the best for the future.”

Mitsuri Kanroji

After drowning in shame and embarrassment when she found you and Sanemi getting on it in the closet, she’d be incredibly bubbly and happy for you two! Mitsuri would be so curious, asking a million questions about how it’s like, what you two like to do, who said “I love you first”, where and when the first kiss was, how it was… the list goes on.

Overall, Mitsuri is super happy for you two! She’ll squeal everytime she sees you two together, thinking you are totally being super romantic right now!!

“Oh! Oh! How did you two even fell for him? It thought you and him really hated each other…”

Shinobu Kocho

Shinobu would have her usual grin on her face. She’d tease Sanemi about becoming softer, especially for you, and about being safe during certain activities. Her teasing would be gentler than usual though. She’s happy for you and him, wishing you nothing but the best. Sanemi could use the good influence, maybe you can stop him from slashing himself open during fights. Less work for her.

“Make sure to be safe during intercourse, okay? We don’t want a baby to disrupt everything, do we?”

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi’s first reaction is to yell and lash out at the other hashira, telling them to back off and leave him and you alone. Why are they so damn nosy?!

You (besides Kagaya) are the only one who can make him calm down and not to threaten to beat the shit out of Tengen for teasing him. He’d distance himself from the other hashira, not wanting to face their annoying comments. This is exactly why he wanted to keep this a secret…

“Nah, I’m not gonna go train with them. Can we train together instead? ‘m not in the mood to deal with their shit.”

💠

So sorry it took so long! I really struggled with this one, I hope you enjoy it anyways!! My requests are open for both the hashira and the upper moons <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves!

[usoppsstar]

Not sure if you're taking a request or not but I would love a aftermath to the OP! Men's pregnancy story. Especially Ussop (this man does not get enough love). Love to see how they are right after their S/o gives birth to their newborn child and would love if you can keep it as detailed as the main story!

Straw hat men with their newborn baby🧸🧸🧸

Pairings:Straw hat men x f! Reader

Characters: Luffy, Usopp, Zoro, Sanji

Tw: fluff/ Angst(stressed new dads)

Notes: I've been working on this forever, so happy to finally post it; Lengthy headcannons and then a tiny short;This is proofread but there may still be mistakes🧸🧸🧸

🧸Pt 2, Pt 4 Masterlist

🧸Luffy

As capable as luffy is at saving entire countries or protecting the crew,and as much as everyone acknowledges that he's gotten the teeniest,tiniest bit less reckless, no one in the crew expects luffy to look after his new daughter by himself. Luffy gets pouty though and insists about doing most of the work himself since you already did the hard part. So the entire crew pitches in to teach him how to bathe her, dress her, put her down for naps, rock her, and everything else he needs to know. He happily tells you about everything he learned at the end of the day, and reassures that he's taking care of it and that you can sleep and play as much as you want. And he technically does the first few weeks but then things get a little harder than he expects. She's fed and changed so why isn't she sleeping? Is this the sleepy cry or the hungry cry? Are there other cries than those? She's crying so hard her tiny fists are clenched up and he doesn't know what to do.

Starts running to Chopper every time she starts fussing, thinking something is wrong, like, feeding her didn't work so she must be sick right?( At first he kind of thought making sure she was full and burped would fix everything) It isn't until after Chopper explains to him that her crying isn't always an emergency, that he tries other things to calm her down first. Toys, maybe cuddles, maybe she just needs momma.

Unlike the other boys in this list though, even if the new experience throws him for a loop,Luffy never actually gets too worried.

Even if things are a bit confusing right now, Luffy has always had a sort of steady belief that things will always work out somehow, and majority of the time he's correct. So he's always reassuring you that everything will be alright when the stress of how much responsibility you both are really holding in your hands gets to you a little. Holding you close while another member has your daughter, and promising you with a big grin that even if you both are at a bit of a loss right now, you'll both eventually get the hang of it and that you shouldn't worry about the future.

Once she reaches a few months, feeding his daughter is definitely Luffy's favorite thing in the world, it doesn't matter how much of a mess she makes. His baby loves to eat just like he does and he finds that hilarious. She really is a big eater like her dad and gets chunky off breast milk and baby food rather quickly. You were kind of worried about it( Luffy wasn't, he loved it) but felt better when Chopper reassured you that she's healthy. Just like with your pregnancy, Luffy actually takes her little diet very seriously. No adult food until chopper gives the OK and even then he doesn't give her much outside of fruit and potatoes and things like that. She's always reaching for her daddy's plate though and if she can't get any of his food she looks at you, mommy,with pleading eyes. The entire crew finds it adorable and Sanji eventually puts aside tiny, unsalted portions of a few of the dishes for her to nibble and suck on.

Like earlier stated, Luffy loves her baby fat and he likes to fake nom on her cheeks just to hear her crack up. She's like a little mochi ball and the thought of it sparks an idea in his head but you shut it right down.

Settles for nomming and kissing her fat face all the time instead, loving the burst of laughter she always lets out after he does it. Loves to blow raspberries on her belly too for the same reason, if you're ever not feeling good he'll extend her towards your face and suggest that you blow on her tummy and you always roll your eyes before doing it anyway, especially since they both love it. Ngl he treats his months- year old baby like a toy and she rolls with it.

He always has time to play with her no matter what he's doing. Even if he's eating he'll find a way to extend a stretchy arm to shake a raddle for her, or tickle her, or even just pull her from her mat and hold her at the table with you two. He can be relaxing on the Sunny's head or hanging with Chopper and Usopp. He'll immediately pick her up.If his daughter wants his attention, she'll get it.

" Do you think her cheeks stretch?" He asks one day while you three are hanging in the aquarium. Luffy has his head in your lap while your daughter tramples and climbs over his stomach to get a better look at the fish. Luffy keeps a protective hand up to keep her from toppling backwards.

" Don't even start luffy. I highly doubt the fruit you ate will somehow pass down to her." You roll your eyes and flip through your magazine on the bench beside you, while your baby babbles in the background. Luffy huffs before passing your daughter to you so she can watch the fish over your shoulder instead. Her excited steps didn't hurt but he was a little tired of having his abs walked on.

" But how many devil fruit users do we know with babies?! It could happen!" He insists again and you shake your head. There was absolutely no way his rubber powers could be genetic. Right?

***🧸***

🧸Usopp

Usopp thought he was going to be pretty prepared when it came to taking care of your new infant while you recover. Like previously mentioned, he took a lot of time preparing while you were pregnant. Doing research with Robin, asking chopper things, and building toys and equipment. At least for the first few weeks, he's pretty sure he'll have everything under control.

But twins, another baby, changes everything

You both didn't know you were having twins, so Usopp only prepared enough things for one baby, but that's alright. He'll just ask Franky to start working on another bed and changing table, oh and for now the girls can just share clothes. He made a lot anyway right? Unfortunately though, that only works until one of your girls gains weight off breast milk faster than the other and can't fit her sister's clothes. So Usopp has to make more, but while his babies still need him to hold them,and change them,and soothe them. He ends up finding time to sew and build during the hour-long intervals that the twins sleep at night. The only problem is that he usually uses that time to well, sleep, but he tells himself that once the girls have everything they need then he can get some shuteye.

The lack of real rest though and the stress of being a new dad to two new babies is evident to you and the crew. Usopp's curly hair is tangled and knotted, he's yawning, and bags are forming under his eyes. You're not so hot yourself sure. Between learning to breastfeed and healing after giving birth to twins, you're pretty exhausted still, but even so, it's obvious that your man is really struggling trying to catch up on nine months of work that he thought he already did. So you and the entire crew pitch in to help with the girls so Usopp can focus on getting sleep and preparing the extra pairs of clothes, toys, and other important things(Franky helps build and Nami and Robin help make new clothes)

Things go much better for the sniper once he's no longer sleep deprived. Making the missing things go much faster with help, and in no time he has energy to actually spend time with you and get to know his girls.

Spoils his babies so much, the moment they start to cry daddy is right there to pick them up and comfort them

You and Usopp have a few arguments about this. How you think it's better for them to self soothe sometimes and how he thinks they can learn to do that later. How you think he won't be able to put them down without them throwing a fit, and how he thinks they shouldn't have to be independent at this age. Eventually you both have to teach the twins not to expect dad all the time and it's quite the devastating,loud process.

His babies like to grab at his nose whenever it's within reach, when he's dressing them, when he's feeding them, or even just when he's holding them, their dad's nose is the most interesting thing in the world to them right now.

Loves to dress the twins in matching clothes and prays that they don't grow out of that because he'll be absolutely crushed. He enjoys dressing them in colors that match your outfits too because he thinks it's cute when you match with your girls.

He's definitely the type of new dad to take hundreds of pictures while they're babies of the cutest or most mundane things. Like one of your babies trying to climb on a barrel with nothing but a diaper on or the twins taking a nap with uncle zoro.

" Why do they smell so good? I haven't even put any lotion on them yet." Usopp asks you as he presses his face into his baby's belly,and she just gurgles before taking the opportunity to reach for her dad's vulnerable nose. You all had just gotten out of the bath and were busy dressing them when Usopp suddenly thought of this. You pause and hold your other daughter that you were busy putting socks on, to your face.

" I don't know. That's just natural baby smell I guess. Even their diapers don't smell awful yet, but that could just be because they only drink breast milk right now." You shrug before giving your daughter a kiss and resuming putting on her socks before she gets cold.

"I'm not looking forward to the day they start to." He sighs before giving your other daughter a kiss on the cheek like you did and going back to dressing her.

***🧸***

🧸Zoro

Fatherhood gets real for Zoro FAST and he is not prepared.

The nine months you were pregnant had felt so long to him back then. No one else knew this but when you both were waiting, he was always laying and thinking about what'd it be like once the baby got here. What they'd look like, how he'd hold them, even as far as the kind of person they'd grow up to be. It was all he thought about. But now that your son was here,in his arms, it suddenly felt like everything had happened in a day.

Zoro won't lie, he was a little nervous when Chopper first told him that he'd be caring for your guy's son on his own most of the time while you slept and recovered. He was relieved though when he thought that you two had a very low-maintenance baby, that only wanted to eat and sleep(kind of like his dad)

But it's not long before the sleepless nights start

The lack of sleep is something Zoro never thought about. Your son waking up multiple times throughout the night shouldn't have been a problem, since Zoro has always been a night owl, but Zoro was actually tired during the night, why? Because he couldn't nap like he usually does during the day. Now, the day hours are reserved for feeding, and rocking, and baths. A lot of baths( why do babies get dirty so fast??)

If you ask him if everything is alright, he'll just brush you off and tell you to focus on resting, if Sanji or Usopp tell him to stop acting like he's the baby and just ask for help it turns into an argument. Zoro didn't want help. He could do this. He could handle this. He was Roranora Zoro, the second strongest on this ship. The steady rock that you and his crew could depend on. The one that trained for hours on end in the crows nest to stay that way. He's a father now too though and as much as Zoro wanted to succeed and take care of this for you and for your son, this was something he'd never trained for.

Zoro was tired.

And he hates it.

He looks at you both sleeping peacefully one night and decides that enough is enough. He's in over his head, and unfortunately so are you. So he puts aside his pride and asks for help from everyone(who were waiting on standby) His image as the strong and capable first mate didn't matter if it meant that he could take better care of his kid. He goes to Robin first, who unbeknownst to him had been sneaking tips in whenever he was in earshot,and from there it extends to everyone else, even Sanji, even Luffy. The crew couldn't be happier to help him out.

Once he gets the hang of everything, Zoro's favorite thing to do with his son, this is probably expected, is to nap with him. Once Nami gets him on a sleep schedule and suggests taking naps during the day with the baby, it becomes their routine.

He sits in the crows nest with his son on his chest, calmly waiting for him to doze off. His big hand covers the entirety of his tiny baby's back, and the heat from his palm always makes your son's eyelids droop. He'll breath slowly and steady and pat his back softly after being taught how to. He always stays up just a little longer to watch his baby that's comfortable on his chest, his tiny body not taking up much space and his tiny fist clenched against his skin. All this and the sunlight from the window warming him, Zoro's never had better naps. He's definitely gonna miss this when your son gets older.

"Zoro do you have-! Oh!" You start to whisper when you see Zoro's frown and your eyes fall on your baby resting on his chest. He had disappeared after you were done breastfeeding him, so you knew that Zoro or one of your crew mates had him, so you came to the crows nest to ask Zoro first. You walk over before sitting on the floor by them, giving zoro a kiss on his temple before settling down. A comfortable silence falls over you two as you both gaze at the tiny person you made together.

"Do you want me to take him to the bed instead?" You tease while you play with the protective fingers heavy on your son's back. When zoro just rolls his eyes at you, aware that you were poking fun at how soft he is for this, while you laugh to yourself. You're about to get up when Zoro pulls you back down, carefully moving his child to make room for you on his chest too.

" Where are you going? Hm?" His voice is raspy from keeping quiet in fear of waking your sleeping infant. He whispers another quiet "stay here" and you give in, resting happily on the chest that your son has claimed upon his arrival.

***🧸***

🧸Sanji

Sanji quickly takes on everything that needs to be done while you recover. With some help from your other crew mates when it comes to the meals on the ship, Sanji is able to focus on taking care of the baby and taking care of you, and while it's definitely strenuous, he's happy to do it. With all of his reassurance that he's got it under control and that you should recuperate, knowing what a capable person he is, and actually needing to recuperate, you don't notice how it's not going as well as you think until a few weeks after your son's birth.

For the first couple of days Sanji was on cloud nine. Everything had gone well and he was a father now. He enjoyed watching you learn how to breastfeed, giving his tiny baby baths in his tiny tub, and dressing him in the abundance of outfits the crew( mostly made by Usopp or bought by Nami) gave you two, but the longer he held his little infant in his arms, the more something fearful started to twist in his stomach. Thoughts of how vulnerable and susceptible to danger he is. Thinking of how even if he was strong enough to protect him physically, things like illness and sicknesses were something he couldn't do anything about. He even starts to be plagued by memories of his own childhood, thinking how he would never want him to go through anything like what his father put him through.

The anxiety continued to build until eventually there was an accident, and one accident was all Sanji's tired new-parent brain needed.

It wasn't that big a deal actually, Sanji wasn't paying attention and accidentally ran your son's bath water a little warmer than he liked( not by much, even in his fatigued state he'd never hurt his child). Your baby wasn't hurt, just a little startled by the warm water so he cried, but that was all Sanji needed to finally break down. Since you heard your son crying and didn't hear it come to an end like usual, you went to check on them and found your son sitting safely, but loudly on a fluffy towel and Sanji holding his head in his hands by the tub.

You check on him, thinking maybe he had slipped but when you see the faintest shine of tears on his face and he whispers to you what happened, you pick up your son, take Sanji's hand and walk them both back to your room. You both have a long and heartfelt talk that night, about both your fears and communicating and confiding in each other about it all, no matter how little it is( ending in kisses and cuddles for your stressed out hubby).

After that things go a lot smoother

Franky and Usopp surprise you guys with a highchair and it's quite literally the best thing Sanji could wish for. Now your son can join you all at the dinner table with his own chair and plate( not that the plate matters cuz he only wants the food if it's from your guy's plate) but the best part is that he can watch his baby while he cooks. Sanji just sets him at a safe distance and gets to work. Sometimes he'll do a fancy trick just to see if he can get a few happy claps or babbles. It rarely works when he's younger cuz your child is usually occupied with the food his dad gave him, but even if his baby isn't too interested in his cooking right now, Sanji still loves the company.

" I was sure we were going to have a girl. I honestly never thought of you with a boy." You say one afternoon as you watch Sanji and your boy with a smile. Sanji pulls his eyes away from his son on his lap, who is currently fighting his dad's large hands for the spoon he was using with his little ones, and looks over at you.

" Huh? Where'd that come from?" He asks you, laughing a little, before gently pulling the spoon away from your baby to stir whatever he was prepping for dinner.

"Well, I thought you'd be super affectionate with a girl, y'know? People always talk about dad's that would do anything for their daughters, but you're so affectionate with our son anyway." Your voice softens as you gaze at your little family lovingly. You had actually been the tiniest but anxious when your son was born, wondering if Sanji might be hard on him or if he'd feel less love for him. Past you is proven wrong everyday though when you see just how much Sanji adores him. Sanji just chuckles a little, embarrassed.

"Well, sons need love from their fathers too." He says softly, before brightening up when his son suddenly looks up at him and gives him a piece of tangerine. You smile and nod.

"You're right. Besides, I shouldn't be surprised considering the way you baby Chopper." You tease and walk out of kitchen to get a towel for the mess the fruit juice would eventually lead to.

" I do not baby Chopper!" Sanji calls out after you.

A/n: First as always: Thank you so much for requesting, I appreciate it. Second: I am SO sorry this took so long to post, I really was thinking about you and working on it, glad I finally got it out here and I hope you like it! I hope everyone else likes it too since I'm feeling a little self conscious about this one. Thanks for reading!🧸🧸🧸

[watermelongirl01]

Sweet Rescue - 02

Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: None, but let me know if I missed something.

A/N: Please, please let me know if you like it, I appreciate all your comments.

5:00 am.

You woke up from a restless sleep, you had something in mind and there was only one thing you wondered about.

Did you have enough pie?

Captain Winchester had said he would be there first thing in the morning and expressed a deep love for your pie recipe. You knew you shouldn’t let on how excited you were about seeing him again, and it was probably best if he didn’t know you cared that much.

But you did care, So fuck that. 

You needed to be sure to have all the pie you needed.

5:30 am.

You slipped into your robe and made your way down the stairs that led directly from your apartment to the bakery below. 

Sure, you could’ve used your kitchen upstairs, but where was the fun in that? Living right above your shop meant you didn’t have to worry about dishes, especially when Donna would be downstairs to help in the shop’s kitchen.

You opened your apartment door and descended the familiar stairs. The cold and the quiet darkness greeted you as you reached the bottom. The large glass windows of the shop let in just enough light from outside to guide your steps toward the kitchen door, where the smell of dough still lingered in the air.

6:00 am

You preheated the oven while you start with the pie fillings.

The kitchen was getting warmer and warmer and your arms started to get sore from kneading the dough.

6:40 am.

The first batch went to the oven.

7:30 am

You set the pies down on the table.

You’d probably gone a little overboard, apple, pecan, cherry, peach, pumpkin, rhubarb, sweet potato, banana cream, lemon meringue, and a few experimental flavors you hadn’t even tasted yet.

Damn, you really went all out.

You sat in front of the pies, trying not to overthink it, but the self-doubt crept in. Was this too much? You didn’t want anyone to think you were some obsessive bitch. Your mind spiraled, Maybe you should’ve just stuck to the basics, and the lecture looped on repeat, getting louder and louder.

Then, you heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into the driveway, followed by the rhythmic stomp of boots hitting the ground.

Your eyes went wide with horror. Charlie was here.

Panicking, you ran, making sure everything was off as you rushed upstairs. You jump into the bathroom, turning on the shower.

——

“Oh hey, boss.” The redhead flashed you a grin as you walked into the bakery.

“Hey, Charlie. How’s everything going?” You returned the smile, trying to shake off the lingering nervousness.

“Just opened. Looks like you’re ready for the day, showered and everything.”

“Yeah, I slept through my alarm, so I figured I’d better be presentable.”

“Uh-huh, sure. Was it really for looking presentable, though? Or for washing away the evidence of the hundred pies you baked? Did you even sleep last night?” She placed a hand on her hip, her teasing grin never fading.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You furrowed your brows in exaggerated confusion, trying to play it cool.

“Oh, come on. Poor Donna walked in and nearly had a heart attack when she saw all those dishes.” She laughed, shaking her head.

“Well, poor Donna will be getting a bonus this month.” you said with a shrug.

“Oh, I already made sure of that.” She grabbed her apron and tossed yours at you. “But seriously, what’s all this about?”

“The hot firefighter,” you said nonchalantly.

“Oh, he’s coming today? That’s why you baked for an army?”

“I just didn’t know which pie is his favorite,” you muttered, a little defensive. “Be honest, am I an over-the-top weirdo?”

“Oh, honey, you’ve always been one.” She smirked. “But don’t worry, I’m sure you will be his favorite pie flavor.”

“Oh, shut it.” You rolled your eyes as you headed for the kitchen.

“I’ll let you know when your hot firefighter arrives,” Charlie called after you, her voice full of mischief.

——

“Excuse me, I’m looking for the owner of this place.”

The redhead frowned in confusion, looking up to meet a pair of bright green eyes.

“Oh, you must be the firefighter,” she said with a smile, her expression lightening.

“How did you know?” Dean asked, a little surprised.

“A hunch.” She smiled again and knocked on the door behind the counter. “Hey, boss, the hot firefighter is here.”

Damn Charlie.

Dean’s gaze followed the sound of the door opening, his eyes falling on you as you emerged from the kitchen. Your ponytail was neatly in place, your skin glowing, and your perfect lips tinted in a soft pink.

“Hey, Captain,” you greeted, your smile warm.

“You can call me Dean, sweetheart,” he replied, his eyes twinkling.

“Dean it is.” You took two large pastry boxes and set them down on the counter with a graceful motion. “I pre-selected some pies for you, but feel free to pick anything else you like from the display.” You gestured toward the desserts on the display refrigerator.

“You sure about this?” Dean raised an eyebrow, eyeing the boxes. “Sweetheart, this is a lot of food. You’re losing money.”

“It’s okay, really,” you said with a reassuring smile.

“You sure?” he pressed, clearly not convinced.

You nodded. “And it's not entirely free. It's for the small price of saving my life.”

“But that’s my job.” He chuckled. “Tell you what,” he added, suddenly more serious. “I’ll take all of this if you agree to go on a date with me tomorrow night.”

You flashed him a bright, teasing smile. “You have yourself a deal.”

“Amazing.” Dean lifted the pastry boxes effortlessly. As he looked around, he noticed a box of bakery business cards sitting on the counter. “Is this your number?” he asked, pointing to the cards.

You shook your head. “It’s the bakery’s number, you call there if you want a three-floor cake for your quinceañera.” you said, reaching under the counter for your card. You shoved Charlie out of the way with a playful shove and handed it to Dean. “This one’s mine.”

“I’ll make sure to call you,” he said with a wink.

“You better,” you replied with a sly smile

“Bye, redhead.”

Charlie looked at you with a big smile on her face. “Look at you, all lit up like a Christmas tree.”

——

Jo sat in the common room, watching Sam arrive alone. She raised an eyebrow, confused.

"Hey, Sam!" she greeted. "Did you come in alone?" In all her years at the firehouse, she'd never seen the brothers show up separately.

"Oh, yeah. Dean wanted to stop by the bakery before shift, and I had some errands to run here." Sam explained.

"He went to the bakery and left you behind?" Jo’s tone was more indignant than she intended.

"Well, it's not like that. I do have my own car." Sam tried to clarify, but Jo wasn’t listening. She was too focused on Dean’s absence.

"Amazing. All that just to chase the baker’s skirt?" Sam blinked in surprise.

"Uh, no. I actually think it’s more than that," Sam replied, shifting uncomfortably.

"What do you mean?" Jo asked, leaning in, skeptical.

"I just think he’s ready to date again after the Amara thing." Sam said quietly.

That left Jo momentarily speechless. But before she could react, Dean walked into the firehouse, holding a box of your baked goods. Behind him, a few of the firefighters eagerly followed, eyeing the treats.

"Unbelievable. All this for a dozen of overpriced cookies?" Jo muttered.

"Oh, they’re not overpriced," Dean said with a grin. "And totally worth it. You should try one."

Jo shook her head, refusing the offer.

Dean smirked at Sam while holding up a card. "And guess who has a date tomorrow?"

Jo sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned and headed towards the locker room.

"What’s her deal?" Dean asked, glancing at Sam.

Sam just shrugged.

A sudden emergency interrupted the brothers' conversation, forcing Dean to leave everything on the kitchen table, your personal card included, resting there on top of the pastry boxes.

“Don’t touch my pie!” he shouted, rushing toward the truck.

In the chaos, as firefighters scrambled to manage the scene, your card was knocked to the floor and landed near Jo’s ankle boots.

She looked down at it, her mind racing. For a moment, she considered picking it up, but she quickly dismissed the idea. Instead, she nudged it away with her foot, pushing it down the kitchen aisle. No one would notice, and no one would be hurt by it. Dean would have more time to heal, away from any distractions, and you wouldn’t become just another notch in his belt.

It wasn’t that she hated you, but seeing that card made something twist uncomfortably in her chest. She wasn’t blind to what was happening between you and Dean, but she wasn’t about to let him fall for someone like you, not when he needed space, not when he still had so much to work through. But that moment wasn’t just about protecting Dean’s heart, no, it was about protecting her own, too.

She quickly washed away any sign of guilt on her face and followed everyone to the trucks.

——

"Where the hell is it?" Dean was frantically tossing items around the kitchen.

"Oh, God, Dean!" Bobby's voice cut through the chaos. "What are you doing? Look at this place."

"I left it here, and now it's gone."

"Food doesn't last long around here, son."

"No, not the food, the number. Her number." Bobby raised an eyebrow in confusion. "She gave it to me, and now it has disappeared. I haven't called her yet, and she's gonna think I’m just another player."

"But you kinda are," Bobby said.

It was true. Since the whole Amara thing, Dean had been... well, a little too generous with his attention to women, leaving a trail of broken hearts in his way. But this was different. Bobby had never seen Dean like this before.

"Not the point, Bobby." Dean sighed, clearly frustrated.

Bobby, looking a little too pleased with himself, placed a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Let me tell you what, son. Your truck’s almost out of gas. Why don’t you and the boys take it to the station, and fill the tank? And hey, make sure you take the street that passes near the bakery, just to, you know, say hello."

Dean’s eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his face as he grabbed his jacket.

"You’re a genius, Chief."

Dean quickly gathered the crew and jumped into his truck, headed straight for you. Bobby stood watching him go, a satisfied smile on his face. He glanced at the pie Dean had been saving for himself, shrugged, and cut himself a piece before heading to his office. After all, he was alone. No one would ever know.

——

“Uh, Boss?” Charlie’s voice floated in as she gently knocked on the kitchen door.

“Yes, Charlie?” You didn’t look up, still focused on decorating your cupcakes.

“Remember that hot firefighter?” she asked, peeking in.

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop piping icing. “Yeah?”

“I think you might want to go outside,” she said, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Confused, you looked up from your work. “What? Why?”

Donna appeared beside Charlie, quickly swiping the pastry bag from your hands. “I’ll finish these for you. Go on.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender. “Fine.” You stood up, but Charlie stopped you.

“Let me fix this.” She patted your head, brushing away what was probably powdered sugar. “Go.”

Still confused, you walked toward the door, but as soon as you saw the red glow outside, everything clicked. Your glass door was tinted red from the reflection of a massive fire truck parked in front of your shop. 

And then you saw him.

Dean.

He was wearing his navy firefighter jacket, the one with the logo of his station on the sleeve. He looked unreal.

You opened the door, trying to act casual, though your heart was racing. You took a quick glance at the fire truck again, then back to him.

“Captain?” you chuckled, your voice betraying a touch of nervousness. “Everything okay?”

Dean took a step forward, glancing around before entering your shop. “Sorry about blocking your driveway, Sweetheart. I just... didn’t want you to think I’m some player for not texting you.”

You blinked, caught off guard, but nodded for him to continue. You had noticed his lack of texting, but with the craziness of the shop, you hadn’t had time to think about it.

“I lost your number,” he said, a genuine tone of sorrow in his voice.

You smirked and held out your hand. “Your phone, Captain.”

He pulled out his cell and handed it to you without hesitation.

“No password?” you teased, glancing at him while you added your number.

“Got nothing to hide, especially not from you, sweetheart,” he said with a playful grin.

You raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see.”

“Date’s still on for tomorrow. I’ll text you the details.”

“Just don’t lose the phone,” you shot back, your lips curling into a smile.

He grinned. “Oh, that’s funny, sweetheart.” Then, before you could say anything else, he leaned in and brushed a kiss on your cheek. “See you then.”

“Bye, Captain,” you called after him, a flutter in your chest as you watched him walk away.

“Marry him.” Donna said behind you, you just rolled your eyes and laughed.

Dean got inside the truck and looked at his brother with a big smile on his face.

“What?”

“Oh, you’re going to fall so hard.” 

“Is that a threat, Sammy?” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Whatever lover boy.”

——

You paced back and forth in your living room, anxiety bubbling up as you glanced at the clock. You’d already changed outfits four times, and you still weren’t sure if you’d chosen the right one.

Donna and Charlie had decided to stay past their shifts to help, but you were still second-guessing yourself.

“I’m sure he’d like you even if you were wearing a potato sack,” Donna said, her voice light as she sipped her wine.

“You think?” you asked, eyeing yourself in the mirror.

“Of course. Girl, he’s smitten,” Donna replied, her confidence unwavering.

You traced the hem of your red dress, frowning as you considered her words. You glanced in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the red dress you’d finally settled on. It hugged you in all the right places.

“Hey, the bakery’s closed,” Charlie said as she entered, but she stopped in her tracks when she saw you. “Oh, he’s going to lose his mind. You look very hot.”

You smiled. “Thank you, Charlie.”

“I’m glad we stuck with this one after the hundred dresses you tried on.” Charlie’s teasing tone made you roll your eyes.

Before you could answer, your phone buzzed. You checked the screen, it was Dean. He’d arrived.

Donna and Charlie wasted no time, ushering you toward the door before you could glance at yourself in the mirror one more time. 

You stepped outside, and there he was leaning casually against his Impala, a bouquet of flowers in hand. The sight of him stopped you in your tracks. His head turned at the sound of the door, and his breath visibly caught the second he saw you.  

Dean’s gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, his green eyes lingering as if he were memorizing every inch of you. He straightened up, his usual confidence faltering for just a moment as his lips curved into a lopsided smile.  

“Hey, Sweetheart.” he said, his voice deeper than usual. “You look…wow.”  

Heat bloomed in your chest as you walked toward him. “Hi, Dean. These are beautiful.”  

“They’re nothing compared to you,” he said softly, handing you the bouquet without breaking eye contact.  

“Let me get them in water so we can get going.” You turned to head back inside, but before you could, Charlie popped her head out the door.  

“I’ve got it,” she said, grabbing the bouquet and shooing you back outside. You didn’t even notice she followed you downstairs. 

Dean opened the car door for you, His hand brushed your back lightly as you slid inside, the small touch sending a spark through you.  As you slid into the passenger seat, you smiled at the familiar scent of leather of his car apparently named Baby.

Even at the restaurant, he was attentive, pulling out your chair for you to sit on.

“Tell me about you,” he said, leaning forward. “I want to know everything.”  

You smiled, your nerves starting to ease. “Well, I inherited my bakery from my grandparents. It’s been my passion since I was little. My parents moved away, so it’s just me keeping the place running.”  

Dean nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. There was something in the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room.  

His expression softened. “That’s impressive. Takes guts to keep something like that alive.” he said quietly, and the sincerity in his voice made your breath hitch.  

“What about you?” you asked, trying to shift the focus back to him.  

“When I was four, my family was in a fire,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with something deeper, you instinctively reached out, placing your hand on his. He dropped his gaze to where your fingers touched, his lips curving into a small smile.  

Dean’s expression softened as he took a deep breath. “When I was four, my family was in a fire. I’ve admired firefighters ever since and followed them around. That’s how I met Bobby, our chief. He took me under his wing and helped me get started as a Junior firefighter. And now years later, I’m the Captain.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re really determined, aren’t you?”

He chuckled. “Guess I am. But when I’m not on shift, I work on cars. Baby keeps me busy, and I fix up my friends' cars too. If I wasn’t a firefighter, I’d probably be a mechanic.”  

“Funny. If I wasn’t a baker, I’d have been a ballerina,” you said, grinning.  

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Oh, really? I think you should still do it. You’d look amazing in a tutu.”

The evening unfolded with laughter, easy conversation, and lingering glances. There was undeniable chemistry between you two, sparks flying every time his hand brushed yours, every time you caught his smile. 

When dinner ended, By the time he walked you to your door, the tension between you was palpable.  

“Thank you for tonight,” you said, smiling up at him. “But next time... I think we should go for a burger.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “So, the rumors are true.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What rumors?”

“That you’re going to be my downfall.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “I’ve been dying to do something all night.”  

Your breath caught as he tilted your chin up, his lips hovering just a whisper away.  

“Can I kiss you?”  he asked, his voice rough and quiet like he was holding back everything he felt.

Your heart thundered in your chest, and all you could manage was a soft, “Please.”  

He leaned in slowly, as if giving you the chance to pull away but when his lips finally touched yours, the world seemed to stop. His kiss was soft at first, a hesitant brush of warmth that sent a rush of heat through your entire body.

But when you tilted your head, leaning into him, he deepened the kiss with a quiet groan. His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer, while his other hand cupped your face as if you were something fragile.

His lips moved against yours with a fervor that left you breathless, every motion speaking of the longing he’d been holding back all night. He kissed you like you were the only thing he wanted in the world, savoring your lips every second.

The faint taste of whiskey lingered on his lips, mingling with the intoxicating scent of his cologne. The combination overwhelmed your senses, making you dizzy with how right it all felt.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours, both of you struggling to catch your breath. His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek as if he was reluctant to let go.

“You’re even more dangerous than I thought,” he said, his lips brushing yours again in the faintest tease of a kiss.  

“Dean,” you murmured, laughing softly, “you’d better not be married.”  

The sudden tension in his body was subtle but undeniable. Something flickered in his eyes, gone almost as quickly as it appeared.  

“Just joking,” you added quickly, brushing it off.  

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “I know.” His hand trailing down to his side as if it pained him to stop touching you.

Still, before he left, he stole one last kiss, this one softer, a lingering moment that left you breathless all over again.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low and full of affection.

“You’ll see me tomorrow, Captain.”

Tags: @aylacavebear @deans-baby-momma @ladysparkles78 @spxideyver @lunaleah @muhahaha303

[feedybot]

The Clean Plate Club

It started with leftovers.

“Just finish the rest of mine, babe. I’m stuffed,” he said one night, nudging his plate toward her. She blinked, fork halfway to her mouth, then glanced down at the extra potatoes smothered in butter.

“I already had so much,” she murmured.

He smiled. “You’re always saying you hate wasting food.”

That was true. She gave a half-laugh and shrugged, then pulled the plate toward her. She was full, but not too full.

Just a little extra.

It became a habit—small at first. He always seemed to cook a bit too much, or claim he wasn’t as hungry as he thought. “You’ve got a better appetite than me,” he’d say with a grin. “You’re my Clean Plate Queen.”

She rolled her eyes the first time he said it, but… she did finish it. Every time. Even when her stomach felt heavy afterward. Even when her jeans started pinching a little at the waist.

*

He kept cooking.

Big breakfasts on weekends. Second helpings at dinner. Desserts he “just wanted to try out” from recipes online. She never asked for them, but somehow, she always ate them. And he was always there, smiling, proud of her clean plate.

He never said anything when she started sighing more after meals. When she groaned and patted her stomach, teasing that she was too full to move. When she unbuttoned her pants under the table without thinking, then quickly did them back up before standing.

And always—always—he praised her.

“You’re amazing.”

“Such a good appetite.”

“I love seeing you enjoy it.”

*

By the time spring rolled around, the weight had significantly gone up. She didn’t know that, of course—she hadn’t stepped on a scale in ages.

But she felt it.

In the way her belly pressed against her tops now. In the way her bras left deep indents on her back. In the slight bounce she caught in the mirror when she walked past in just underwear.

She tried a few half-hearted workouts. Skipped dessert a couple nights. But he always noticed. He always comforted.

“You work hard. You deserve to relax.”

She smiled. She finished her plate.

*

She stopped taking full-body selfies.

Not on purpose at first—it just happened. A cropped shot of her hair. A cozy photo in a big sweater. A mirror selfie that conveniently cut off just below the bust.

She still looked good. She knew that. But things had changed. The sweaters she loved last winter now clung oddly at the stomach. Her thighs had started to rub, just enough that she noticed when walking uphill. And sometimes, late at night, she’d catch herself cupping her belly with one hand without even realizing it.

“Do you think I’ve gained weight?” she asked one night, voice casual. Too casual.

He looked up from the couch, eyes warm. “Why?”

She shrugged, poking her stomach through her t-shirt. It gave under her finger, soft and pliant. “I dunno. Just feels like I’m a little puffier lately.”

He tilted his head, studying her with a faint smile. “You’ve been eating well. Sleeping better. Not stressing all the time. Maybe your body’s just… settling in.”

She rolled her eyes. “That sounds like something people say when they don’t want to admit someone’s gotten fat.”

He laughed. “It’s something people say when they like what they see.”

She blushed. Didn’t push it further.

*

A few days later, she tried to slip into her old high-waisted trousers for a meeting. The zipper stopped halfway up.

She stood there in shock, staring down at the gap, belly pushing forward like it had a mind of its own. She sucked in and tugged—but the waistband bit in deep, creating a bulge above it.

Her boyfriend walked by just as she was struggling.

“Those look tight,” he said gently. “Why not wear the black skirt instead? You look killer in that one.”

She hesitated.

Then changed.

Then, like always, she cleaned her plate at dinner.

*

The hallway smelled like old wood and floor polish, and the elevator looked exactly like she remembered—ancient, narrow, with a grated folding door and tarnished buttons that stuck when you pressed them.

“God, this thing still works?” she asked, shifting the tote bag on her shoulder.

Her boyfriend chuckled. “Barely.”

She hesitated in front of it. The mirrored interior panels showed her reflection from multiple angles, more than she liked. She caught a glimpse of her profile—her soft belly pressing into the fabric of her dress, the gentle curve beneath it rolling forward just enough to peek past her hips.

“I think I’ll take the stairs,” she muttered.

“C’mon,” he said easily, already opening the gate. “It’s five floors.”

She hesitated—then sighed and stepped in. The space was cramped, just enough for the two of them to stand shoulder to shoulder. As the door clattered shut, she felt her back brush the wall and her belly just barely graze the front panel. The metal seemed closer than it used to be.

Halfway up, the elevator gave a little groan and jerked. She squealed and grabbed his arm.

“It always does that,” he said calmly. “It’s not the weight.”

She blushed. Hard. “I didn’t say it was.”

He looked down at her, then ever so subtly, let his eyes drop—trailing over the roundness of her stomach, now clearly outlined by the taut dress fabric. She crossed her arms, as if it might hide her midsection, but all it did was press her breasts up tighter and deepen the visible crease of her belly underneath.

When the elevator stopped, she stepped out quickly, tugging her dress down. He followed her, watching the way her thighs rubbed slightly as she walked ahead, faster than usual.

Her sister greeted them at the door, all smiles and hugs, but the moment had already done its damage. She spent most of the visit shifting uncomfortably on the couch, adjusting her dress every few minutes. Snacking, yes—but with a distracted air, chewing slower, lips pressed tight.

He stayed quiet, letting it sink in.

She was starting to feel it.

Not just in her jeans or in the mirror—but in her body, her movement, the way the world interacted with her. The elevator had made sure of that.

*

She didn’t say much on the way back.

The car hummed beneath them, city lights drifting across the windshield in smudged streaks. Her arms were folded tightly over her middle, pressing her belly into an awkward shape beneath the seatbelt. Every bump in the road made her feel jiggly, aware.

“That elevator was stupid,” she muttered after a long silence. “Why would anyone still use something that old?”

He glanced over, but didn’t reply.

She sighed. “I just… I felt huge in there.”

Still, he said nothing. Just let the radio fill the space between them. She stared out the window, lips tight.

After a few more minutes, she spoke again, voice lower.

“Can we stop at McDonald’s?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I just… today’s already been crap,” she added quickly. “And I’ve been trying to be good. But right now, I just want to eat something terrible and not think about anything.”

He nodded once and turned the car without a word.

In the drive-thru, she ordered without hesitation.

“Double cheeseburger meal. Large. With nuggets on the side. Oreo McFlurry and please add a chocolate milkshake - large - as well.”

He didn’t blink. Just paid.

By the time they were back on the road, she was already digging in. She ate in silence for the first few bites, chewing angrily, wiping ketchup off her lip with the back of her hand. But with every mouthful, her shoulders sank a little more. Her breathing slowed. The food did what it always did—dulled the edge.

Halfway through the fries, she let out a soft groan and rested a hand on her stomach.

“Ugh. I’m gonna regret this.”

“You always say that,” he said quietly.

She smiled—barely. “And you never stop me.”

“Why would I? You’re beautiful when you let go.”

She gave him a look. “You’re weird.”

And she kept eating.

*

Back home, she moved slower.

The food had settled like a stone in her belly, heavy and bloated. She rubbed it absently as she stepped into the bedroom, kicking her shoes off with a sigh.

“I need to change,” she mumbled, tugging at the hem of her dress. It clung to her more now than it had earlier, riding up along her thighs, the fabric stretched tight over her middle like plastic wrap.

He leaned in the doorway, silent, watching.

She pulled the zipper down a few inches, then tried to wriggle out of it—but the dress didn’t budge. The fabric creaked as she twisted, her full stomach in the way, her backside resisting every inch of movement.

“Jesus,” she huffed, breath catching. “It’s stuck.”

Her hands worked furiously—tugging, pulling, shifting side to side. But the dress wouldn’t slide over the swell of her belly, or the soft roundness of her ass. Every motion just made it ride up more, bunching awkwardly under her hips. Her face was flushed now, damp with sweat.

She let out a frustrated growl. “Why is everything so tight all the time?!”

Then, trying one last time, she gave the dress a sharp yank upward—and lost her balance. She stumbled backward and collapsed onto the edge of the bed with a heavy thump.

That’s when it happened.

Rrrrrrrrip.

A sharp, unmistakable tearing sound echoed through the room. The seams at her side gave out all at once, the fabric splitting wide over the fullest part of her belly. Her skin, hot and flushed, pushed through the gap, soft and pale and unignorable.

She froze.

So did he.

Then—

“Oh,” he said, grinning. “Oh wow.”

She stared down in horror. “No. No, no, no—this was new.”

“You really thought that dress still fit?”

“I wore it last month!”

“Babe…” He stepped closer, eyes trailing over the exposed skin, the deep crease of her belly now spilling freely onto her lap. “That wasn’t last month. That was January. And you’ve been quite… busy ever since.”

She looked up, wide-eyed.

He crouched down in front of her, eyes hungry, voice soft and low. “You’ve been stuffing yourself for months. Always finishing your plate. Always just a little more. Or a lot more. You thought you were being good—counting calories, walking once a week. But all the while…” His fingers brushed along the exposed curve of her belly, tracing the stretch marks. “All the while you’ve been growing. Rounder. Softer. Fatter. Your belly started ever so slightly to bulge out and never stopped expanding.”

Her mouth opened—but nothing came out.

“You hardly noticed,” he whispered, reverent. “And now look at you. All of you. There is so much now… belly taking up half of your lap, thighs at least twice as wide and don’t get me started on those hips of yours…”

Her dress was pulled taut around her chest and hips, but utterly surrendered at the middle. Her belly rose and fell with each breath—swollen from food, shame, and something she couldn’t quite name.

“I—I don’t know how I let this happen…”

He smiled. “I do.”

Then, eyes locked on hers, he let his hand drift over her tight belly. She could feel herself blushing. Was it unease she was feeling? Humiliation? Panic? Probably all the above.

,,Look at what you have made of yourself. You really couldn’t help yourself, could you? You’ve grown so much so fast… so well.”

That was the moment her body completely betrayed her because she leaned into his touch and pushed as much of her belly into his arms as she could. He couldn’t stop the groan he let out.

Next thing she knew the dress was finally ripped off her body. And her boyfriend? He got into what he did best - worshipping her body.

[arabellasfvv]

Kyle dealing with your anger cause I'm currently fuming over dinner. MDNI 18+

Kyle perks up the seconds he hears you curse. There wasn't a bang or an 'ouch', so you're mad. Which would be fine any other time. But a glance on the calender tells him it's that time of the month. So a simple curse will turn into death threats torward everyone and everything, and a minimum of two things broken.

Not fun.

But he's been learning to deal with it. Slowly getting up from the couch, mentally preparing himself for an outburst.

The closer he gets to the kitchen, the better it smells. Clearly you had something good cooking. He peaks around the doorframe to check if you were curled up in a ball and sobbing.

That, frankly, would've been better than your tense figure, hands curled into tight fists. Your heavy breathing makes his own heavier, as if he's trying to blend in, not wanting to set you off.

"Sweetheart," his voice is soft as ever as he steps beside you. "What happend?" A dangerous question that could definitely blow up in his face.

"Nothing fucking happend!"

Right. He doesn't believe that. And you know that.

"Uh huh. Somethin' wrong with the food?" He pressed, while his hand snuck up your arm. Not too soft, he wanted you to feel him, a firm, grounding touch.

Kyle didn't flinch when your fist came down on the counter, one, two, three times. Just gripped you a little tighter. "Nothing's working! The sauce was weird, the potatoes ain't cooking, the fish smells fishy-"

"I think that's how fish is supposed to smell." Oh boy, if looks could kill he'd be a dead man. The kiss he presses against your head is supposed to be soothing.

He takes a fork to stab into a potatoe, before dipping it into your 'weird sauce'. Tastes fine, like everytime. "They're hard boiling potatoes, luv. Supposed to feel like that. And your sauce taste like usual, yer taste buds might be a little out of whack."

He wraps his buff arm around your shoulder, his hand slipping up to your jaw to tilt your face to him. "You bought the wrong potatoes, Kyle."

"Aww, did I? List just said potatoes." He's quick to retreat when you squint up at him, brows furrowing like he's stupid. "Okay, okay, that's on me. I shoulda known better. So why don't ya tell me which ones ya want for next time, hm?"

You want to smack him for being so rational, so calm, while your heart is about to beat out of your chest. "All purpose, or starchy." You grumble. He nods, like 'of course, those are the right options'. "Noted. You go sit down, sweetheart. Pick out a movie, order some pizza.."

He doesn't give you the chance to interrupt, the moment those pretty lips part he knows what you're going to say. "Don't worry, this won't go to waste. I'll put it aside, and we'll make something out of it tomorrow. No point in trying when you're all grumpy."

You huff. How dare he be right? You stomp away to do as told.

He joins you on the couch a little later, smiling when he saw your choice of movie. No suprise there.

He was far more focused on you than on his own appetite. So he quickly shoved down his pizza to focus on you. Guiding your feet into his sliding his deft fingers between your toes, massaging each one. Watching your little reactions, the ones you were trying to hide, so you could keep acting mad.

He's itching to you advice on how to deal with this. He knows better, though. Had learned the anger during this time is different than usual, so he doesn't. No, his warm hands just keep gliding slowly along your feet, tracing along the curves of your arch, showing exactly how familiar he is with them.

His thumbs were pressing gently into the soles, doing his best to knead away any and all tension, when you speak up again. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. As long as ya don't kill anyone, we'll always be alright, got it?" "So, killing is your limit? Ironic." "It's the laws limit."

You smile back at him, you do feel guilty about getting so worked up. Which makes it tempting to get angry again, just to ignore that feeling. But he's quicker, reads the emotions off you like it's written on a billboard.

Hands slide up your legs, before kyle is pulling you closer to him. You insult him under your breath for his strenght. He's too busy to notice. Busy pulling you into his lap, shifting you until your legs are straddling him. His hands are all over you in an instance. Feeling up every little curve, before one settles with slipping under your shirt, and drawing little patterns into your lower back.

The other coming up to cup your cheek. You lean into it like a dog starved for affection. "You're an emotional thing, I'm aware of that. Wouldn't have gotten involved if it bothered me," he assures you in a gentle whisper against your lips.

You barely manage to whisper the sacred words of 'I love you' before he has your lips against his own. Slow, and careful, but he tilts his head to fit you better, to kiss you deeper. He wants to steal your breath, watch you pull away and pant just to drag you back in until everything else's fades away. Until that flame of anger simmers down and allows your mind to be a little quieter. If just for a moment.

That's it, I'm too lazy for more.