#like it fun and joyful but also a little sexy... much like their dynamic

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter VI.

GIF CREDIT

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: The highly anticipated state fair performance. Here's what I envision Paloma singing: Gunpowder & Lead - Miranda Lambert, One Way or Another - Blondie, Poor, Poor Pitiful Me - Linda Ronstadt, Edge of Seventeen - Stevie Nicks.

WORD COUNT: ~8k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: The interrupted right before kissing trope is strong with this one, i think most of this is considered fluff, they're still pining after one another, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: as promised, here's the other chapter for the week! i had so much fun writing this and expanding on their dynamic omg… first of all a little commotion for miss paloma…. the icon that she is! also couldn't help myself by having javi wear that sexy ass blue shirt in this… he is just so handsome… i need him BIBLICALLY i fear! i hope you guys enjoy reading, i have so much planned for this fic and it's going to get really messy here soon (: i might even post a lil moodboard for it. anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Finally, it’s the day of her long awaited state fair performance and Paloma is absolutely overflowing with anticipation, her energy bounding through the house like a whirlwind.

The night before was a restless blur, nerves and excitement intertwining to steal away her sleep. 

She had read a variety of newspaper articles to get more information on the fair itself. She uncovered the staggering scope of its annual attendance; a revelation that both fueled her trepidation and determination.

Her heart pounded like distant drums as the reality set in: hundreds, no, thousands of eyes would be fixed upon her. The prospect thrilled her to her core, yet it also stirred a profound stage fright.

Rarely does she feel said stage fright; memory of her last instance likely dating back to when she was fourteen, trembling as she took the stage at The Whiskey Fox for the very first time. Since then, her journey has been a voyage of calm seas, and now, as she’s grown into her own, Paloma is enveloped in a sense of serene confidence.

It’s understandable that she’s apprehensive about transitioning from a smaller venue to a stage at a grander event. There’s a tinge of sadness in her heart knowing that her father wouldn’t be there to accompany her. He’s witnessed her artistic evolution firsthand and has always been her staunchest supporter. Her number one fan.

Unfortunately, duty calls and with Jessica Valdez still missing; he was needed here.

On the other hand, Javier’s presence was not as essential, and Romeo practically burst with joyful relief when Paloma revealed that the deputy sheriff would be her companion all the way to Dallas.

Just as she had expected.

Earlier in the morning, before heading off to the station, the sheriff had popped into her bedroom to wish her luck. With a tender gaze, he doted on his daughter, expressing his pride in her and, in his own unique manner, even offered a subtle apology for his recent behavior. As always, she embraced his understanding with ease, and in that moment, the weight of apprehension that had been bearing down on her lifted, replaced by a sense of relief and reassurance.

She’s currently stationed in her bedroom, sitting at her vanity and meticulously rolling her thick locks into velvety coils that she intends to keep in place throughout the entire four-hour journey to the city. Her face is bare, dressed in a tank top and shorts and she doesn’t plan on doing much to her appearance until they make it to the fairgrounds.

As a soft rumble fills the air, she casts a glance out of her bedroom window, her lips curling into a smile at the sight of Javier’s truck rolling into view.

Fuck, she reflects on the unexpected bravery it took to ask him to join her. While her primary concern was appeasing her father, she also couldn’t deny the appeal of spending time with him.

Despite her bold and flirtatious gestures, Paloma is sure that if the opportunity to actually fuck him ever arose, she would be overcome with nerves. Don’t get her wrong; she longs to indulge her selfish desires and surrender to him completely. Yet, the thought of not meeting his expectations casts a shadow of doubt over her.

Oh, for fucks sake, Paloma–– when have you ever cared about living up to a man’s expectations?

She scoffs at herself, bobby pin between her teeth as she rushes down the stairs to answer Javier’s knocking.

“I am on time, right?” He quips, his voice carrying a playful tone from the other side of the screen door since the wooden door that usually blocks it is wide open.

“Sure are. I’m the one that’s runnin’ behind. Don’t worry–– just gotta get my damn hair rolled up and we’ll be ready to go. You can come in.” She motions for him to enter, pausing in the hallway that stretches toward the foyer. She steals a moment to glance at her reflection in the mirror, deftly sliding the bobby pin into her hair to secure the roller in place.

As Javier crosses the threshold, the screen door emits a reluctant groan, briefly stirring the awareness that they are alone once more in the house. However, her attention remains steadfast on ensuring her hair is perfectly secured, leaving no room for wariness to take hold.

His gaze lingers on her figure and a gentle flush spreads across her cheeks and down her neck as she becomes acutely aware of the extent of her attire’s exposure. The lack of a bra allows her breasts to sway with every subtle movement, her nipples prominent against the fabric.

“Need help gettin’ anything into the car, nena?” With a casual lean against the wall where the mirror hangs, he directs his question to her.

“Yeah, it’s all in my room.” She spins on her heel, striding towards the stairs, with him silently shadowing her steps. The realization dawns on her that he will soon enter her room, prompting her eyes to widen in alarm as she takes in the chaotic scene before her— it looks like a fucking tornado has run through the space.

She doesn’t have any time to block him from seeing it though, and she bites down on her tongue and mentally curses herself for not cleaning up as she got ready.

Though considering how frantic she’s been all morning, of course she hadn’t stopped to think about tidying up.

“Sorry for the mess… it’s been a morning.” She grumbles and Javier can’t help but be amused.

Surveying the room from the doorway, he takes in the entirety of the space, his broad figure remaining at the threshold. Posters adorn the walls, each reflecting her eclectic tastes. From the timeless southern charm of Dolly Parton to the ethereal melodies of Fleetwood Mac and the vibrant rhythms of Donna Summer. Their presence doesn’t surprise him. Instead, they offer a window into her personality, providing insight into her passions and preferences.

Javier tries not to analyze her by the things she has in her bedroom, yet he finds himself irresistibly drawn in.

It’s a facet of his innate curiosity.

He notices the scattered articles of clothing, a digital piano tucked away in the corner, and her bed left invitingly tousled and he can’t help but imagine how soft her sheets must be, laced with the natural smell of her. 

Amidst the wall space left by absent posters, her bedroom is adorned with an array of framed personal photographs, each encapsulating cherished memories from childhood whimsy to high school triumphs, and all the moments in between.

Yet, it’s the family portrait resting atop her vanity that draws Javier’s eye. He strains to decipher the intricate details of the photograph from where he stands, its contents obscured by the tilt of the frame. 

Paloma, attuned to his intense focus, trails his gaze, her stomach tightening at the realization.

Oh.

“Here, it’s my makeup bag and outfit. Please be careful taking this down. I spent all morning ironing it.” In an effort to divert his attention from the photograph, Paloma passes him her belongings. He carefully examines her features in an attempt at finding reason for her reaction, a half smile tugging at his lips.

“So bossy, hermosa. Don’t worry–– your things are in capable hands.” He is reluctant to depart, preferring to linger and observe her as she completes her preparations, all the while mentally dissecting her character through the lens of her bedroom’s decor.

“Sorry, I’m just nervous.” She confesses, making her way back to her dresser, inconspicuously moving the photo of her, her mother and father out of the way as she returns to the tedious task of curling then rolling her hair.

“You’ll be fine. Pressure can either crush you or make you shine brighter. Let it be the latter. And hey, no matter what happens tonight–– I’ll be right there cheering you on.” The reassurance flows from him without much thought, a rare occurrence for this man who typically struggles with offering comfort. There’s a naturalness to it, as if they’re drawn from some deep wellspring within him, bypassing the usual barriers of hesitation and uncertainty.

Paloma, sensing the sincerity in his gaze reflected back at her through the mirror, finds herself caught in the spell of his eyes. In that fleeting connection, she grants him a tender smile, her heart responding to his unspoken affection.

Unsurprisingly, the words bring her some ease, especially since she’s aware of how difficult it can be for him to muster up any type of verbal compassion. He’s a man of few words, after all, so each one carries extra weight when it’s spoken.

“Thanks, cowboy, M’grateful for your support… and y’know, for taggin’ along even though you didn’t have to.” He nods at her, letting the comfortable silence speak for itself as she continues to get ready.

He senses an underlying urgency within her. Experience whispers caution in his ear, reminding him of the cardinal rule gleaned from years of female companionship: never incur their wrath while they are in the midst of getting ready. And so, he tears himself away, surrendering to the unspoken dictates of the feminine domain.

They’re just thirty minutes away from their destination, yet she remains fixated on the changing landscape outside the window. Her claim of not leaving Seminary in over a decade rings true, evident in the awe reflected in her eyes at the sight of skyscrapers and influx of people.

Javier can’t help but find her genuine amazement endearing, particularly as she gazes out with her hair pinned up stylishly, secured by a silk scarf. The journey to Dallas spans four hours, but the lively conversation between them makes the time fly by, rendering the trip far shorter than it actually is.

Their growing closeness feels like a beautiful risk as they delve deeper into each other’s lives with every passing mile.

“Y’know, I actually do know some Spanish.” she remarked, drumming her fingers lightly against her thigh.

“I had a hunch when you never asked me to translate my sweet talking.” With an arrogant smirk, he looks over at her.

His smirk has her playfully rolling her eyes, “No puedo leer o escribir tan bien, pero entiendo y hablo en forma conversacional. (I can’t read it or write it very well, but I understand it and speak conversationally.)” In a tender twist, her voice took on a sweeter tone in the other language, prompting Javi to shift in his seat, attempting to refrain from envisioning the enchanting timbre of her words whispered intimately in the quiet sanctuary of his sheets.

“Tu acento (Your accent) … Argentinian?” He’s got a real talent for picking up languages and accents, honed through his international collaborations in the field.

Paloma just shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine. My momma taught me and she never really talked about her life before meetin’ daddy and stuff. I never really asked questions. After she passed, I didn’t keep up with it as much as I should have.”

The pauses in their conversation are rare, occurring only when the topics of family or his experiences in Colombia arise. Javier notices her keen interest in these subjects, her curiosity palpable. While he has been guarded about delving into anything beyond surface-level details, he finds himself gradually warming up to the notion of sharing a glimpse of his past with her, if only to satisfy her insatiable curiosity.

Yet, he holds back. This wasn’t the time. He wasn’t about to cast a shadow over her spirits.

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

Paloma disrupts the tranquil hush that had settled between them, her fascination with the scenery outside pulling her into the moment.

“Well, believe it cariño because we’re not too far from the fairgrounds.” 

“It’s like... a dream. I know, I might sound naive and childish gettin’ this worked up about performing at a damn fair. It just means a lot to me. I’ve poured my heart into my music for so long and to see it culminate in this moment is just... thrilling.”

A pang of longing for her mother’s presence washes over her, silently echoing within her thoughts. Yet she refrains from uttering the sentiment aloud, keeping her yearning hidden beneath a veil of silence.

“It’s a big and well deserved step forward, Paloma.” He pauses briefly, looking over at her, “This means the world to you. You’re going to be amazing.”

Javier’s hand, warm and reassuring, gently finds hers, creating a tender connection that sends a surge of warmth coursing through her veins. The soft brush of his skin against hers ignites a gentle flutter in her chest, stirring feelings she doesn’t want to admit. It’s as if a silent symphony plays between their touch, drawing her attention away from the captivating scenery outside and directing it towards him.

With a soft, almost imperceptible smile, she meets his gaze, finding a silent reassurance and a flicker of something more lingering in his brown eyes.

Arriving at their designated area, meticulously mapped out in a thorough letter sent by Wendy to Paloma, she eagerly jumps out of his truck, bubbling with excitement, while he indulgently rolls his eyes at her enthusiasm.

Delighted to find the band already present and nearly done with setup, she breezes towards them despite her ridiculous appearance, exuding a radiant glow that outshines any imperfection. Her infectious happiness spreads like wildfire as she enthusiastically goes through the rundown of the gig with the group.

Javier stays out of the way, leaning against the bed of his truck.With a cigarette between his fingers and wisps of smoke curling into the air, he drifts into introspection

His mind becomes a labyrinth of memories, weaving through the tapestry of his past—the triumphs and tribulations, the moments of light and shadow. Amidst the haze of contemplation, he finds clarity in the decision that brought him to this juncture: the choice to refrain from confronting the Cali cartel.

Having spent years evading the ordinary, Javier stumbles upon an unforeseen refuge in monotony. With the weight of his taxing agent job finally lifted, he embraces the simplicity of everyday life with a newfound sense of relief.

As the days pass, Javier slowly discovers a peace he has long evaded, savoring the quiet moments that once seemed dull.

While the looming homicide cases in Seminary present formidable challenges, each one a puzzle demanding his attention, he approaches them with a newfound confidence. It’s a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had clouded his final days in Colombia.

However, amidst this newfound tranquility, there persists a secret too delicate to utter aloud. His ongoing infatuation with Paloma, a woman whose presence has become both a source of comfort and turmoil. He won’t acknowledge her significant role in his newfound ability to cope. Such complexities are best left uncharted, buried beneath the surface of their convoluted relationship.

Engrossed in his thoughts, Javier doesn’t notice when she approaches him.

“M’gonna go get ready. Sure you can survive a few hours without me?” She teases him and he exhales the smoke away from her, the aviators on his face masking the adoration gleaming in his eyes.

“I think I should be asking you that question, palomita.” The new term of endearment sends her heart aflutter, and she can’t help but feel how it resonates more when Javier says it in Spanish compared to when August had uttered it in English...

Little dove.

“In that case, no, I’d simply crumble without you.” She over exaggerates her words, punctuating them with playful gestures and a touch of dramatic flair.

Their laughter intertwines, and her smile blooms into a radiant expression of affection.

“Órale nena, go get ready before you’re late to your own performance.” Javier indulges in another puff of his cigarette, and like the good girl she is, she saunters around the truck to fetch her belongings before heading off to the portable trailer, her makeshift dressing room.

In Paloma’s absence, he engages in conversation with the band members. Comprising three men and one woman, they share with him the story of how they met and how Paloma reignited their passion for music. The narrative resonates with her persona and innate ability to effortlessly charm those in her presence.

Javier an unsuspecting victim of this charm.

When the sun begins to set, he looks down at his watch to check the time as her lively voice draws near.

“Alright, y’all, how do I look?”

Javier’s gaze falls on her. It’s as if the world around him fades into insignificance, leaving only her radiant presence to fill his senses. His breath gets caught in his chest, suspended in the awe that washes over him like a gentle tide.

She beams with pride at the ensemble she’s meticulously curated.

A crimson leather corset embraces her waist with finesse, fashioned in the likeness of a halter top, baring her shoulders and presenting a tantalizing canvas of skin for all eyes to see. Her cleavage commands attention, accentuated by her mother’s cross pendant nestled against her breasts. She transformed a pair of aged low-rise jeans, adding intricate rhinestone patterns promised to dance enchantingly under the glare of the stage lights.

The buckle on her belt is beautiful and distinguishable, an important accessory down here in Texas; she’s made sure that her boots match her attire.

Her hair cascades in perfect waves, thick and luscious, framing her face with a touch of effortless glamor. It’s been a long time since she’s had a full face of makeup on, and the strip lashes are uncomfortable against the sensitive skin but beauty is pain and goddamnit she’s stunning.

She feels the part of a super star, and her band members do nothing but boost her ego as they begin to shower her in compliments and friendly catcalls. She indulges them with a twirl, allowing them to admire her outfit from every angle.

Javier stays silent, dumbfounded entirely by how fucking hot she looks.

“I think I just saw a horsefly fly into his mouth.” One of the bandmates teases and this has Javier snapping out of it, meeting Paloma’s expectant gaze.

For a man who always has something to say, especially in the company of beautiful women, he finds himself at a loss for words.

“You look gorgeous, querida.”

She blushes, murmuring a soft ‘thank you’ as her eyes momentarily flicker down to her square-toed boots. It’s exasperating how easily he can get her flustered. The compliment isn’t extravagant, yet it strikes her deeply nonetheless.

She won’t admit that the extra effort she invested in her appearance tonight was not just for the event; but also for him. She is aware that Javier finds her attractive and it harbors this desire to unveil a new facet of her beauty to him so he can see all the types of beautiful she can be.

As the rest of the group disperses to squeeze in some last minute warm ups, Paloma saunters toward him. Her hands rest confidently on her hips as his gaze traverses the curves of her form, unabashed and unapologetic.

“I’m serious. You look hot and I know you’ll look even better when you’re up there doin’ what you’re so passionate about.” His words have her heart racing, igniting a kaleidoscope of fireworks that burst with intensity within her core.

“You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?” 

“Only when I’m around someone as captivating as you.”

Fuck.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, you know.”

“Is that so?” With a contemplative tilt of his head, he gazes at her, his aviators now absent, allowing her to lose herself in the depths of his enchanting eyes. “Well, in that case, I’ll have to keep it coming. After all, I can’t resist making a beautiful woman smile.”

They stand toe to toe, Paloma tilting her chin upward to meet his gaze while Javier gently inclines his head downward to meet her eyes.

As he looks down at her, the thought of planting a gentle kiss on her lips, a token of good luck, flits through his mind. Just as the impulse begins to take hold, fate intervenes and Paloma is called to the stage, leaving their moment suspended in anticipation.

“Break a leg, palomita .” He tells her, stepping back so she can make her way up the steps.

It is both everything yet nothing she expected.

As she ascended the stage, she discerned a comforting familiarity: the typical audience size from her usual gigs back home. This recognition alone served as a balm to her nerves, reassuring her that she could handle it.

It felt decidedly manageable. Yet, as the performance progressed, the crowd swelled to such a density that individual faces blurred into an indistinguishable mass, a sea of humanity stretching before her.

With every fiber of her being, she poured herself into that performance, channeling raw emotion and passion into each note. This may very well be her first and last time gracing an event this grand, and she was determined to leave an indelible mark.

This wasn’t just a performance; it was a cathartic release, a showcase of her skills. It is no surprise that the crowd was thoroughly charmed and entertained beyond measure.

As the final note faded into the night, she knew she’d given it her all, leaving nothing but her heart and soul on that stage.

She reaches the familiar backstage area where they had spent the entire afternoon, exuding palpable excitement and practically launching herself into Javier’s awaiting embrace. He catches her with ease, sensing the electrifying energy coursing through her as her arms wrap tightly around him in a warm hug. With her legs securely wrapped around his waist, he spins her around in a joyful twirl before gently lowering her back to the ground, their shared enthusiasm filling the air with an infectious energy.

“You did so good, hermosa.” Javier gazes warmly at her, his lips curved in a genuine smile. 

“That was so exhilarating, holy shit!” The expletives fly from her lips and this only deepens his amusement, his heart warmed by her spirited expression.

“Like, I almost blacked out out of excitement.” Paloma inhales deeply, her chest expanding and contracting with each breath, her heart pounding so vigorously it feels as if it might leap from her chest at any moment.

The rest of the band gathers around, exchanging congratulations and warm embraces. Paloma takes a moment to express her heartfelt gratitude, her voice tinged with sentimentality as she thanks them for steadfastly supporting her seemingly silly musical aspirations.

“Oh, that reminds me,” She breaks away from the small group, strolling over to Javier’s truck. Retrieving her purse, she rummages inside and retrieves a disposable camera she had brought along for the occasion. “Can you take a picture of us?” She asks with a gentle pout, her eyes sparkling as she looks up at Javier.

“‘Course.” Javi readily accepts the camera from her hand and steps back to make sure they’re all in frame. He snaps the photo, the flash is blinding for the split second it appears before he hands her back the camera.

“Gracias cowboy.” 

Her voice carries a delightful sweetness tinged with playful flirtation and a touch of eager anticipation that has him feeling like a lovestruck fool.

The band leaves to head back home, the sun now fully set as Javier and Paloma remain. Their figures casually propped against his truck, casting a relaxed silhouette against the backdrop of the vibrant fair lights sprawled out before them.

“We should get going––”

“You’re kidding, right?” Paloma interrupts, leveraging herself off the hood of the truck with a fluid motion, positioning herself directly in his line of sight. Her hands find their place firmly on her hips, projecting an aura of assertiveness.

“No…?” He answers unsurely, his gaze sweeping over her form from head to toe.

“I haven’t been to the fair since I was a kid. I just have to ride one ride... and indulge in some fried goodness... and maybe try one of those tricky carnival games,” She shares eagerly, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

She gazes at him with those bewitching eyes of hers, he silently curses himself for knowing he’ll give in.

“I dunno, princesa, it’s getting pretty late…” Fighting a fight he knows he’ll lose, he still moves forward with his opposition. The least desirable outcome from staying late would be facing an irate sheriff questioning why his daughter returned home in the dead of night instead of the earlier time she’d promised.

“Oh don’t be such a stick in the mud. We’re allowed to have fun every once and a while. If it’s my daddy you’re worried about; he’ll get over it.” Paloma draws nearer to him, her hands delicately clasped behind her back, the enchanting fusion of her perfume and her innate scent enthralls him completely.

Javier can’t help but surrender to her charm.

“Fine.”

A large smile spreads on her crimson tinted lips and she squeals, clapping her hands together before tugging him in the direction of the bustling fair.

The first thing Paloma does is drag him over to a food stand where she proceeds to order a funnel cake, fried oreos and two way too large lemonades.

“Fried oreos?” His nose scrunches at the idea which earns him a soft slap to the arm.

“They are quite literally the best damn thing to ever be invented.” She defends the unhealthy snack, reaching into her bag to pull out money to pay but Javier stops her before she gets the chance to. 

As he smoothly glides a bill across the counter, Paloma feels a warm flush creep up her cheeks at the simple gesture. A flicker of uncertainty dances in her mind as she ponders the significance of this moment—is it possible that this is... a date?

No, certainly it isn’t. It’s an outing between two friends. He is just being a gentleman and paying for their food. No big deal, right?

In the quiet recesses of her mind, she revisits their flirty exchange shared just moments before she took the stage and the gentle display of affection that followed after her performance had concluded.

Don’t overthink it, Paloma, just enjoy the moment.

So, she pushes all those thoughts aside as they patiently wait for their order. 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He grumbles with his arms folded protectively across his chest.

Paloma finds herself entranced by the sight of him. His torso is adorned in a brightly colored blue shirt that accentuates his handsome features paired with jeans that sinfully cling to him. She marvels at how effortlessly he pulls off this 70s-inspired ensemble. It’s just one more reason among many why she finds him so irresistibly attractive.

Their order number is called and they swiftly collect their things, moving over to an empty picnic table and sitting across from each other.

“Alright, be prepared to have your mind blown.” She plucks one of the golden-fried treats from the paper tray and slides the remainder enticingly across the table to him.

Javier eyes the dessert carefully before picking one up and observing it.

“There is no way this is good for you.” He remarks skeptically.

“It’s not supposed to be good for you it’s supposed to taste good.” Paloma counters, taking a bite and emitting a satisfied hum at the burst of flavor, “If that’s the case then you shouldn’t smoke. There’s no way cigarettes are good for you.” She mocks him, a playful glint in her eye as he scoffs in response.

Following her lead, he gingerly takes a bite, his brow furrowing at the unexpected taste.

“Absolutely not,” He declares, confirming his verdict with a decisive shake of his head.

“Oh, you are so lame.” They laugh and she drags the tray over to her side, “Whatever, more for me. Just please don’t tell me you’re a funnel cake hater too.” She plops another one into her mouth, her gaze fixated on him.

“Rest assured I’m not a funnel cake hater. It was my favorite growing up. Haven’t had one in ages.” Now that, Javier easily snacks on as they seamlessly weave through conversations, trading tales of cherished childhood snacks.

Once they finish, he gathers their garbage and goes to dispose of it in a bin nearby. Upon his return to the table, his eyes sweep the surroundings, only to discover that they are no longer in solitude; a small group of individuals has gravitated towards Paloma, eager to engage her in conversation.

This puts him on edge, slightly, eyeing the interaction.

Amidst their conversation, he catches fragments of praise floating in the air, surmising that they must be members of the audience who had seen her perform not too long ago.

His suspicions are proven right once they leave and she turns to him with a bright smile.

“Looks like I’m not your only groupie anymore.” 

“Oh don’t be jealous. You’ll always be my favorite.” As she rises from her seat to join him, he gently intercepts, his gaze fixating on a subtle trace of powdered sugar lingering at the corner of her lips.

“Hold on…” He murmurs, stepping closer to her, bringing his thumb up to his lips then wiping away at the spot.

A shiver dances down her spine, her breath catching in her throat as his seemingly simple gesture sends waves of arousal rippling through her. He is driving her crazy .

“I–– thank you.” She blushes, “Oh man, that means I had a whole conversation with food on my face.” Slightly embarrassed, she slaps her palm against her forehead and he chuckles at her.

“There are worst things to be embarrassed over.” He shrugs and she nods, “So, what now miss I absolutely have to stay and enjoy the fair.” Javier teases, as they begin to walk around the fairgrounds. 

Paloma rolls her eyes, “You’re like an insufferable child.” She can’t help but comment, eyeing some of the rides until she spots the drop tower. “Ooh, let’s do that one.” She practically races over to the large structure, leaving Javi behind.

“Who’s the child now?” He murmurs to himself, trailing after her.

Standing in line together, they exchange playful jabs at the people around them in whispered tones. For the first time in a very long time, Javier finds himself genuinely laughing.

“We have to get on the pendulum ride after this. Oh, and the gravitron. I also really like those spinny swings.” As she rambles on about her beloved rides, his gaze lingers on her radiant beauty. Moreso since she’s adorned with an enchanting smile and enveloped in laughter. With each joyful expression, Javier feels a familiar tug at his heartstrings, the same irresistible pull he’s been steadfastly pushing aside since their very first encounter.

This is definitely more than just some sexual infatuation. The revelation that he harbors genuine feelings for Paloma weighs heavily in his chest. In that moment of clarity, he understands the need to consider stepping back, for the well-being of them both.

He doesn’t want to hurt her.

But for tonight, Javier will let himself enjoy her company and everything that entails to. He grants himself this rare luxury under the guise that it’s for her sake.

“You’re ambitious tryin’ to get on all these rides, querida. Gonna end up puking all your precious fried oreos out.” They’re at the front of the line now, and as Javier makes his remark, one of the exiting patrons from the ride hurls over and throws up in a nearby bin.

Both Javier and Paloma share a look before breaking out into a harmonious laugh. Paloma finds herself yearning to capture this perfect moment, to preserve its essence in the confines of a frame, forever etched in her memory.

“Impeccable timing, vaquero.” They board the ride together, sitting right next to one another and she swings her legs softly as the attendant comes around to make sure they’re strapped in properly.

“I’ve done a lotta dangerous shit in my life but riding one of these seems to be at the top of the list.” Javier tells her as they begin their ascend to the top.

“Don’t tell me a little fair ride is more dangerous than an armed drug dealer.”

“Drug dealers are predictable. Fair rides aren’t–– how can you actually trust somethin’ that’s disassembled, packed away then rebuilt elsewhere. How are you so sure they build it adequately each time? You’ve seen the people who run this. It’s sketchy.”

“Sounds like you’re scared. Don’t be scared, Javi. Here–– you can hold my hand.” She extends her hand, reaching out to gently grasp his, intertwining their fingers and applying a tender squeeze. He’s not scared he’s just wary, but feeling the weight of her hand in his is enough to fizzle those inconvenient thoughts away as they’re suspended in the air for what feels like forever before they finally drop.

Paloma releases a delighted squeal, erupting into a chorus of giggles as they reach the base of the ride. “See? That wasn’t too bad. The ride didn’t collapse and we live to see another day.” With a final squeeze, she relinquishes his hand and they get off the ride swiftly.

Similar scenarios unfold as they explore the other attractions; their banter punctuated by playful jabs at the people in line and Javier meticulously dissects the safety measures (or lack thereof) of each attraction. Despite his scrutiny, he finds himself thoroughly enjoying the experience alongside her.

As they stroll through the carnival game section, Javier’s eyes light up as he catches sight of a tacky looking plush snake, swiftly diverting Paloma’s attention towards it.

“Isn’t that your favorite thing in the world?” He teases, feigning curiosity, earning an eye roll from Paloma as she playfully pinches his forearm.

“Not a fan of real snakes and reptiles, you goof,” She retorts with a grin. “But I’ve got nothing against a cute little stuffed animal like that.”

“Do you want it?” He asks, gravitating towards the stand and she follows.

“What, are you gonna win it for me?” She questions with a flirtatious lilt, twirling a lock of her hair as she raises her eyebrows, a playful sparkle dancing in her chocolate brown eyes.

“I will, if you want it.”

“If I want it that means you have to win it. And you know what they say about these games…”

Their banter continues as they approach the stand. Javier reads that it’s a baseball toss bottle game and he smiles cockily.

“What do they say?”

“They’re rigged and impossible to win.”

“Well lucky for you, nena, I’ve got the best arm in Laredo.”

Paloma’s interest is piqued, her head tilting slightly as she observes him. “You play baseball?” She asks, her tone curious and attentive.

Javier hands over payment to the teenager tending to the stand, effortlessly cradling three baseballs in one hand. This has Paloma licking her lips.

Her gaze is drawn to the rugged contours and sinewy strength, imagining the delicious weight of them against her skin. There’s an electric charge in the air, sending shivers of anticipation cascading down her spine and straight to her cunt.

“I did. All the way through college.” Oh she can see him now, clad in those tight baseball uniforms. She bets his ass looks amazing in the pants.

“The more you know.” She muses, “But that was like, all the way back when baseball was first invented.” She patronizes him, never getting tired of making jokes about his age.

“Ha, ha. So funny and original.” 

“Alright darlin’ enough yappin’, let’s see Laredo’s best.” She’s fully expecting him to fumble, honestly.

Javier rolls his shoulders, stretching his arms, and Paloma’s eyes linger on the way his shirt molds to his defined muscles with each movement. His broad shoulders and flexing biceps command her attention as he effortlessly pulls his arm back and throws the ball with graceful ease.

In one fluid motion, he knocks down all the bottles.

A satisfied smirk graces his lips as he turns to meet Paloma’s gaze.

“Told you.”

She lets out a low whistle, clapping her hands together in a slow applause. “Alright, I stand corrected.” she admits with a smile.

The worker hands Javier the stuffed animal, and he extends it towards her.

“For you.”

“Such a gentleman.” She murmurs softly, pulling the prize close to her chest. The sight of her holding it with such tenderness is one that will linger in his memory for days to come.

“Oh shit.” She begins, a hint of dismay in her tone, but his concern melts away as she retrieves her camera from her bag. “Forgot to take more pictures. Do you mind gettin’ one with me?” There’s a hint of shyness in her request, and he shakes his head.

“Don’t mind at all, cariño.” He assures her with a warm smile.

She returns his smile and proceeds to ask the teenager at the stand to take their photo, who obliges, undoubtedly persuaded by her beauty.

“Alright we’ll do a smiley one then a silly one.” She suggests, stepping back to Javier’s side and leaning against him, her eyes sparkling as they prepare to capture the moment.

He doesn’t pose, instead, he gazes at her admiringly, wondering how he’ll summon the courage to distance himself from her after tonight.

Paloma tilts her head to meet his gaze after the photos are taken, mirroring the affection in his eyes before stepping away to retrieve her camera.

Javier clears his throat, the sound breaking the carnival’s cheerful din as he glances down at his watch. The hands inch towards midnight, a reminder of the impending end to their evening. “Los tenemos que ir (we have to go).” He says softly, his voice carrying a hint of reluctance.

She pouts slightly, pursing her bottom lip.“One more ride, please Javi. We didn’t get on the ferris wheel.”

As he’s done all night, Javier acquiesces, unable to resist her earnest plea. “You are a very persistent and spoiled little thing,” He remarks, a fondness lacing his words. Her playful smile transforms into a devious smirk at his observation.

“Thank you.” She replies, gaze coated with mischief.

The bench-style seating on the ferris wheel feels snug, their bodies nestled close together as the metal bar rests across their laps.

Despite the attendant’s insistence that she couldn’t bring it on the ride, Paloma clung to the plush snake he’d won for her as she (politely) told him to fuck off.

At first, silence envelops them, the rhythmic creaking of the wheel the only sound as they ascend to the pinnacle of the ride. Lost in their own thoughts, they share a quiet intimacy, their hearts beating in synchrony.

The fair lights twinkle and sway, casting an enchanting glow upon Paloma’s face. In that moment, bathed in the colorful illumination, her beauty is magnified.

“What’s goin’ on inside that pretty head of yours?” Javier breaks the quiet between them, and she turns to meet his gaze.

“Tonight has been one of the best nights I’ve had in a while... and you’re part of the reason.” She confesses, her voice sincere, melting the barriers he’s long held onto.

“It has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you, palomita.” He responds, his arm draped along the back of their seat. Unable to resist, she leans in closer, finding comfort in the warmth of his embrace.

His smell envelops her, intoxicating her senses as she inhales the earthy musk of his cologne mingled with a hint of sweetness from their shared meal earlier.

“I mean it, Javi. Ever since you came to Seminary my life has been a lot more… fun.” She tells him earnestly, her voice barely above a whisper. Their proximity is electric, teetering on the edge of temptation, and her words only add fuel to the fire.

Her name escapes his lips like a solemn prayer, a gentle reminder of the boundaries they’re dancing dangerously close to. Their lips barely graze each other, his mustache tickling the sensitive skin above her lip.

Suddenly, the ride lurches with an unexpected jolt, shattering the tender moment between them. Paloma swiftly withdraws, seeking whatever space their cramped confines afford her, her fingers clenching the metal bar for stability.

“Told you I didn’t trust these damn things.” He mutters, his palm clammy as he rubs it against the coarse denim of his jeans. His throat tightens with a heavy swallow, their fleeting moment lingering in his mind like a fading dream.

Silence cloaks them like a heavy blanket for the remainder of the ride and even as they walk side by side to his truck.

No words pass between them.

Paloma leans against the window, mirroring her posture from the ride up, exhaustion seeping into her bones after the long day. She resists the urge to dwell on the events of the evening with Javier, instead surrendering to the pull of sleep. Her eyelids flutter closed, and soon, she drifts unconscious.

Javier steals a sideways glance at her, strands of hair cascading over her features like a veil. Amidst the quiet hum of the car, he catches the faint sound of her soft snores.

His shoulders slump in resignation as he replays their moment on the ferris wheel in his mind, each iteration leaving him more conflicted than before. Would they have shared a kiss if not for the technical issue?

He wants to believe they wouldn’t have; that he would have had the strength to pull away before it was too late. But the enticement of her lips, the desire to taste her, lingers in his thoughts like an unshakeable temptation.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he wrestles with his inner turmoil for the duration of the journey back to Seminary.

“I’m still so upset I couldn’t go. It woulda been so fun.” Sloane remarks from her spot on Paloma’s bed, idly flipping through a magazine while her friend meticulously applies nail polish.

Days have passed since the state fair, leaving Paloma and Javier in an awkward limbo. She despises the distance that has grown between them. How could she have been so foolish as to ruin their night by coming off as strong as she had? Everything had been going perfectly until then. Had she scared him off? Was his silence a sign of disinterest?

It’s all so fucking confusing.

“Uh, hello. Earth to Paloma.” Slo snaps her fingers and this gets her attention, looking up from her hand to meet her friend’s gaze.

“Sorry, I wish you coulda been there too.” She gives her a tight lipped smile and this has Sloane narrowing her eyes at her.

“Alright, spill. What happened?”

She snorts, shaking her head and returning to the task at hand. “Nothin’ happened.”

“Lie to somebody who doesn’t know you.” She shifts from her spot on the mattress, sprawling herself on the floor in front of Paloma.

She eyes her friend briefly before letting out a sigh and twisting the cap on the polish. “Fine. I think I fucked things up between me and Javier.”

That was certainly not what Sloane was expecting her to admit, but she’s intrigued nevertheless and she turns to lay on her side, head in her hand and elbow propping her up.

“Don’t tell me you slept with him.”

Paloma’s face flushes, despite having a plethora of erotic dreams starring the man in question, “Wha–– No. I didn’t. Jesus…” She mutters, attempting to blow the polish on her right hand dry. “We actually had a great night.” She can’t help the small smile that plays on her lips at the remembrance of said night.

“Okay…” Sloane urges her to continue, “For a songwriter you sure are a shit storyteller.”

Paloma flips her off and Slo blows her a kiss, “Things between us have always been flirty. It was fun at first, exhilaratin’ and what not. Then… feelings started developin’. I like him, Slo. Like him like him.” It’s the first time she’s said this outloud and the confession has her feeling lightheaded.

“Awe, my baby is growin’ up. She’s got a crush.” Her friend teases, poking at her exposed calf.

“Yeah, well, I don’t even know if he feels the same way. I mean, at first I thought he did then I… we almost kissed on the ferris wheel and he hasn’t talked to me since.”

Sloane flashes her a sympathetic stare, “Well he’s an idiot for not kissin’ you. Let’s start there.” She sits upright, matching Paloma’s stance, “Are you really surprised? Not to burst your little schoolgirl crush bubble but it’s obvious what typa man he is. Flirty, handsome, charismatic. Sex on legs –– a long trail of broken hearts follow that man. C’mon, baby, you must know this.”

Paloma is keenly aware of his reputation as a charming playboy, a fact that’s far from concealed. Now, she’s flooded with feelings of foolishness and embarrassment for how she had openly pursued him. It was almost inevitable; of course, he would reciprocate her advances. After all, what man could resist when a beautiful woman is vying for his attention?

The thought that he might have lost interest gnaws at her, causing an ache in her chest. Aside from all the romantic stuff, she genuinely enjoyed his company.

She chooses not to dwell further on the topic, and her friend seems to pick up on her reluctance.

In a sudden twist of conversation, Sloane announces, “Guess who has a house now.” Paloma’s attention perks up in surprise.

“What, really? Since when?” From what she knows, Sloane and a few others have been living long term at the only motel in town. They hadn’t intended on staying in Seminary very long which is why Paloma had gotten her the job at the bar in the first place, so she could save up some money to keep trekking.

Hearing that she now has an actual place to call home brings nothing but joy and excitement for her friend.

“Since a few days ago. We’ve been so damn busy that I haven’t been able to tell you. Completely unexpected, too. Apparently some broad August used to know finally croaked and she left him with her entire estate.”

Paloma’s eyes widen at the news, “Jeez, talk about impeccable timing. I’m glad y’all got it worked out. Now you’re stuck here with me.” She jests, “When can I visit?”

Sloane taps the tip of her chin, “What about tomorrow? It’s about an hour drive from here––”

“An hour?!” Paloma interjects, incredulous.

“–– and it’s beautiful . You’d love it. Don’t get hung up on somethin’ as trivial as travel time .”  

Sloane’s right, outside from the hub in town; their residence is situated in a predominantly rural expanse, making lengthy travel times like that unusual. And with her car now up and running, Paloma has a newfound sense of freedom to explore beyond their immediate surroundings.

“Fine, tomorrow sounds good. You can stay the night and I’ll drive you there in the morning.” She offers, prompting Sloane to break out into a giant grin.

#pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javier peña narcos #javier pena smut #javier peña smut #javier peña #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fic #javier peña x ofc #preachers daughter #ethel cain #southern gothic fic

[eyreguide]

Book Review: This Bird Has Flown

This Bird Has Flown by Susannah Hoffs Plot Summary: Jane Start is thirty-three, broke, and recently single. Ten years prior, she had a hit song—written by world-famous superstar Jonesy—but Jane hasn’t had a breakout since. Now she's living out of four garbage bags at her parents’ house, reduced to performing to Karaoke tracks in Las Vegas. Rock bottom. But when her longtime manager Pippa sends Jane to London to regroup, she’s seated next to an intriguing stranger on the flight—the other Tom Hardy, an elegantly handsome Oxford professor of literature. Jane is instantly smitten by Tom, and soon, truly inspired. But it’s not Jane’s past alone that haunts her second chance at stardom, and at love. Is Tom all that he seems? And can Jane emerge from the shadow of Jonesy's earlier hit, and into the light of her own?In turns deeply sexy, riotously funny, and utterly joyful, This Bird Has Flown explores love, passion, and the ghosts of our past, and offers a glimpse inside the music business that could only come from beloved songwriter Susanna Hoffs.

Review:

This Bird Has Flown caught my eye because it takes inspiration from Jane Eyre and the concept of the story sounded fascinating. With the author’s unique perspective to the story as a well-known singer/songwriter just like the main character Jane Start, I felt like this was bound to be a distinctive take on Jane Eyre inspired novels.

What I truly loved about this book was how authentic this perspective felt. Jane Start comes across as a believable and warm character the reader wants to get to know. There are so many layers to her experiences in the music industry - many ups and downs - and Jane shares so much of her vulnerability from the very first chapter making it easy to empathize and understand her.  The plot of the novel can sometimes wander, and the impetus of the romance between Jane and Tom sometimes moved too slowly for my tastes, but throughout, the story focused on painting Jane Start as a real, sensitive, and complicated woman. And as the novel is an homage to Jane Eyre, there is no better way to honor the original than to create a heroine as strong, magnetic, and fascinating as Jane Eyre.

And while romance is at the forefront of This Bird Has Flown - it guides Jane Start in making some pretty important decisions quickly once she has connected with Tom Hardy - I think the only drawback to the building of their relationship was in how monotonous it became.  The lovely moments of their first meeting and insecurity about each others true feelings was fun, but once they made a commitment to each other, the tension stalled, and Jane and Tom’s relationship has the common flaw of lack of communication.  This avoidance of talking about previous relationships seemed more of a needed plot point to stymie their relationship and not so much a believable way they would decide to develop their relationship.  This aspect was not a huge issue though, as Jane Start is such a well written character and she is surrounded by interesting and entertaining characters that help move the story along.

Jane’s best friend and manager Pippa is a definite highlight.  She is so warm and nurturing, while also needing Jane’s friendship to help her through her own issues, and I loved the dynamic of these two women. There’s also Jane’s friends and brother who are delightful to get to know and helped create some moments of humor and connection throughout the story.

Tom Hardy as a character did feel muted as Jane’s romantic other half. He does have a secret to keep and that means he must remain slightly mysterious, but it was difficult to really understand him as a character, other than that he is charming, English, and intelligent.  All great qualities for a romantic interest and that did give the story an alluring escapist romantic quality.  I love an idealistic romantic, and Tom fit the bill to a T.  I just wished that the reader could dive a little deeper into his character.

As a story that takes some aspects of Jane Eyre, I did want to touch upon the reason for Jane “leaving” Tom.  It’s a difficult scenario to recreate in modern versions, as Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre is unable to get a divorce and that is not usually a problem today.  Susanna Hoffs creates an entirely new kind of obstacle that echoes the original novel, but feels very realistic for today and I thought that part was so well done. I felt for Jane, and understood how difficult a situation it was for her.  Having a believable reason for Jane to leave Tom was very important to make the story work, and I felt that Hoffs unique take was perfect.

Overall, I really enjoyed the characters and the perspective and unique insight into the music industry that this book provided.  The romance is sweet, if a little simple, but by the end I was totally invested in Jane Start’s happy ending, and if the author would consider writing continuing adventures in her life, I think that would be wonderful!

Goodreads Rating: 4/5 stars I received this book from the publisher or author for a fair and honest review. I was not compensated for this review.

#Jane Eyre #Book Review #Susanna Hoffs #This Bird Has Flown #New Novel #Bangles #Literary Adaptations

[sitp-recs]

A Quickening Hope, A Freshening Glee by @maesterchill

Harry/Draco, Sirius/Remus (2022, Teen, 4k)

Joy comes to Harry and Draco alongside a quickening of heart, and of body, and of breath. Or: The one where Draco and Harry find out from Remus Lupin in a Ministry lift that they're going to have a baby. And Sirius flips out.

“We are a power couple…” Draco mused. “Of course it only makes sense that we would be power parents also.” Harry snorted at that.

Can you believe how many amazing people are having bdays back to back in June? Love to see it but the Tumblr logistics are stressing me out ngl 😂 happy happy birthday, darling Maester and Commander (stealing Tacky’s tag because it’s perfect)! I hope you have a wonderful day and enjoy this little gift rec. I love sharing this fandom with you and getting to enjoy your delightful fics AND exquisite art, both for Drarry and rare pairs (which I can’t wait to see more!!). It took me forever to decide how to celebrate your day. You have just gifted me one of the most incredible Sirry fics I’ve ever read, and I still can’t think about it without choking up and feeling my heart burst with tenderness for their dynamics and wall sex. I’ve reread that beauty more times than I care to admit but it would be lazy work to rec it again since my unhinged reblog already took care of it 😂 if anyone’s looking for superb sexy & tender age gap smut, it doesn’t get any better than this!!

I decided to go with your wonderful, feel-good recent Mpreg fic which explores the trope in such a lovely and comforting way it made my heart ache. I know many people are picky about this trope (myself included) and because of that some works don’t get a lot of exposure until they get recced so here I am to give it a special shout-out as one of my favorite reads of 2022 so far! Pretty much like Em, I have the biggest soft spot for tender established relationship and this Everybody Lives AU with Wolfstar + Drarry has perfect joyful, found family vibes, it put a big smile on my face from beginning to end!

Remus and Sirius are both charming and bigger than life - I love their energy, how they balance each other, and it’s quite emotional to see how their fatherly dynamics with Harry and Draco could look like. The idea that Remus’ super wolf hearing makes him the bearer of good news is so clever and sweet! In fact I adore many things this fic comes up with: Drarry’s mental bond, pregnant & horny Draco (also: “kissed him, a proprietary hand still on Draco's stomach” is now my new favourite line, jfc 🔥), and Sirius’ workshop!!! What a brilliant idea to have him partner up with Arthur to tinker around, I can’t believe I’ve never seen this take before. Em has a fabulous grasp of Sirius’ young spirit and child-like enthusiasm without making him inadequate, it’s so fun to read and I love the affectionate nicknames he has for everyone!

This fic is nice and heartwarming just the way we need it on bad days, with zero drama, just soft, happy ending vibes and I love that for us. Get ready to laugh and swoon over these soon-to-be-parents boys and have fun with their slightly chaotic dynamics as the family grows. Don’t forget to leave kudos and comments, and while you’re at it, why not check the rest of Em’s A+ catalogue? Here’s a fabulous reclist by our @sweet-s0rr0w and more gorgeous art recs by @shealwaysreads to get you started 🙌

Read on AO3

#drarry fic rec #the everybody lives we deserve 😔🙌 #mpreg goodness #maesterchill #hbd Em!! 🎉

[365daysofmchart]

Can I just... Will and Diane dancing to Sam Cooke. That is all.

#like it fun and joyful but also a little sexy... much like their dynamic #and idk maybe the notes & lyrics & their closeness & energy come together just right and there's some kind of cosmic shift between them #maybe a little drunk #and they just... #anyway... #Lockner #I guess #yes coming back after who knows how long with this as my first post #ha whoops #hi #no worries McHart comin' soon

[juniper-and-lamplight]

Recent Reads -- May 12, 2019

It turns out that I start to feel itchy if I don’t do a round-up of my various one-off recs every few months or so? Though there are some new recs on this list too (helloooo, Lix Storm). As usual, it’s a multifandom mix--DGHDA, Harry Potter, The Hour, and just a bit of Sherlock and The History Boys. Recs under the cut, so you don’t have to scroll unless you want to :)  Enjoy!

Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency I'm So Queer I Can't Even Think Straight (But To Be Fair, You're Not Helping) - @dont-offend-the-bees - 2.2k, T, Dirk/Todd "'His mind was buzzing, his heart pounding, his lips tingling, even now five, ten, however many minutes later. But if nothing else, he’d got past the phase of the whole holy shit Dirk just kissed me thing going round and round in his head, stuck in there like a bad song. But holy shit Dirk just kissed him.' In which Todd shows his hand, and Dirk takes a leap." So funny and charming that I’m almost mad about it? The Comic happened, we all lost our minds, and Bees was there with fic on the SAME DAY.

A Thousand Butterflies Can't Be Wrong, (But I Think I Might Be.) - electricteatime | @kieren-fucking-walker - 6.2k, G, Dirk/Todd "It’s a lot, he knows it’s a lot, and he almost wishes he’d stopped to think about his answer before just blurting his feelings all over the place. But then he supposes he’s always been a little like that, and it hardly makes sense to change that now. If Todd feels the same he already knows what he’s signing up for. If. For two small letters, it really is a big word." OF COURSE post-s2 Dirk thinks that Todd and Farah will be together and leave him, because historically, that's how things go for him...bless his heart and his inability to cope with Todd's eyebrows.

Leave What's Heavy Behind - electricteatime - 5k, G, Dirk/Todd "A semi-poetic semi-character study of one Todd Brotzman, the lies he tells himself, and the truths Dirk Gently knows." So beautifully, painfully REAL?!? I may never stop having feelings about this fic.

song for the heartsick (better days are near) - embraidery - WIP, T, Bart & Suzie Boreton "Suzie Boreton, rescued from death at the hands of the Mage's goons by the dirtiest woman she's ever seen in her life, faces a question: would she like to go on a road trip with her savior? No, Suzie thinks, but when she opens her mouth, Yes comes out. And so begins the weirdest road trip ever." This is such a fascinating premise, I can't wait to see where it goes.

To sleep, perchance to dream - @flightinflame - 2.4k, G, Mona & friends "Mona is sick, and loses control of her abilities. She tries to hide it, but it becomes too much to ignore." This is? So soft?! And also quirky, and playful, and just plain heartwarming.

the intricacies of triangulation - reptilianraven | @actualbird - WIP, T, Farah/Dirk/Todd "'Todd. Us. Us and Todd. We need a plan for this,' Farah says. Or the one where Dirk and Farah get together (they’re surprised about it as well) and try their best to get Todd to date the both of them in the most roundabout ways possible." In just one chapter this fic had me HOWLING with laughter.

or make a home - reptilianraven - 6.6k, T, Dirk/Todd "Or Todd’s adventures in dating Dirk Gently, the mundanities of which unsurprisingly turning out to not be very mundane at all (featuring, among other things: intergalactic wormholes, regular periods of lying down on the floor, and several annoying habits that concern toothpaste and toothbrushes.)" With a combination of absurd humor and honest emotion, this fic absolutely nails the joys (and annoyances) of loving/supporting/living with another person.

put that baby back where it came from, or so help me - reptilianraven - 7.6k, T, Dirk/Todd "A case drops a telekinetic baby into the agency’s care and Dirk feels...overwhelmed whenever he sees Todd competently, wonderfully, lovingly taking care of a child." Tropey and ridiculous, but in the BEST WAY. My favorite line in this fic is ALL of them.

Though Your Breath Racks Your Ribs and You Throb with Pain; There's a Juice on My Lips for Each Purple Stain - @sexycoinkidicks - 7.4k, E, Dirk/Todd "In which Dirk shows Todd where it hurts. Angsty emotional smut, based loosely on a scene from the play Kiss of the Spider Woman (VERY loosely- no prior knowledge needed!)" Claustrophobic sadness and Extreme Emotional Intensity, with a slight edge of hope.

An Interlude; or, Compulsory Heterosexuality Made Me Do It - @teacupsandcyanide & @gallantrejoinder, - 1.6k, G, Farah & Todd "Farah and Todd did, in fact, make out while on the run. They also both realised some very important things about themselves. But not the things you might expect." Todd and Farah are glorious disasters, and I love them <3 This fic made me giggle from start to finish.

The Situation - teacupsandcyanide - 8.5k, M, Dirk/Todd "Todd raises his eyebrows at him. 'You gotta admit. We would get into this … situation.' 'What, the situation where we flee from the weekly hired goons into a badly aging knock-off of the Ritz, get shut in an empty room with no escape, and find ourselves compelled to make loud, gratuitous sex noises in order to put the aforementioned lackeys off the scent?'" In which Dirk and Todd have wildly different interpretations of Dirk's "coming out," and the only thing preventing them from getting together was their inability to have an honest damn conversation. Sensual and full of Big Emotions, as is only fitting for these two.

The Butterfly Effect (Love Is Love Is Love Is Love) - teacupsandcyanide - 7.2k, T, Dirk/Todd "Dirk kisses his best friend on their balcony in front of the Pride Parade. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Things escalate wildly into identity issues, old hang-ups, anguished declarations of love, and inopportune sabotage of the situation by their tiny bastard cat." This fic left me an incoherent, keysmashing mess. I might have actually clutched at my own heart after reading it.

Harry Potter Midday, Midnight - @aryastark-valarmorghulis - 8.5k, T, Remus/Sirius "During the summer of 1976, between fifth and sixth year at Hogwarts (and after The Prank), Remus goes outside the Lupin's cottage and he finds a big, black dog in his garden..." The character voice in this fic is so authentically teenager-y; Remus is so deep in his own head. I also enjoyed all of the sensory details, which create such a vivid image of the Lupin home, and the feel of a summer's day (and night).

Aural Gratification - birdsofshore - 10.9k, E, Harry/Draco "Harry's not gay – he just likes listening to exciting stories about Aurors. It's not his fault that the narrator's voice is so smooth, so expressive... and really rather hot." I know I’m waaaaay late to the party on this one (as I often am with Drarry fics), but worth it. As a person who listens to audiobooks for both fun and profit, I could not resist it :)

Letting Go - LuminousGloom - 6.1k, E, Remus/Sirius, Remus/Kingsley, Remus/OMC "A number of lusty, intimate encounters. Although for Remus, it's really only ever been about one person. And it's never quite right, until it's right." I love that each of Remus’ encounters is not only distinct and sexy, but also that each highlights different facets of him: forthright, secretive, curious, ashamed, conflicted, joyful, soft, rough, broken, and (eventually) unbroken.

like tea and knitwear - @songofwizardry - 2.4k, G, Remus/Sirius "There are probably easier and faster ways of showing one's affection than learning how to knit so one can make the object of said affections a jumper. Fortunately, Sirius has never been fond of picking the easy route." As soft and warm as a hand-knit jumper, but with just enough snarky humor that it still feels Marauders-y.

Sky Full of Song - @writcraft, read by semperfiona - 2k, 13min, T, Harry/Draco "Draco turns up at Harry's birthday party unexpectedly and Harry takes a leap of faith."  A wonderful blend of angst and humor and realistically messy emotions.

The History Boys Don't you know you're life itself? - Philipa_Moss - 5.5k, M, Scripps/Posner “Dakin thinks you’ll get bored of me,” Posner says, out of the blue, and Scripps says, automatic and habitual, “He doesn’t.” This fic feels so perfectly lived-in--all of the relationships (partnerships, friendships, whatever) are well-worn, complex, and shaped by choices in a way that rings true to life, and to the characters.

The Hour (Guess who watched all of The Hour this winter and was left wishing that there was another series entirely about Lix Storm?)

The Small Hours - deathorthetoypiano - 1k, T, Lix/Bel "Lix stayed at Freddie's funeral, despite her instincts - and old habits - telling her to leave. She stayed for Bel, because she might need rescuing or a shoulder to cry on, someone to make sure she was alright, or at least as alright as she could be, given the situation." A quiet, bittersweet coda.

My thought is not changeable - @lbmisscharlie - 1.5k, E, Lix/Bel "Freddie will return – sometime – he must – and Bel is never aimless when Freddie’s around, not like she is now, eyes intent on Lix’s mouth and one stockinged foot rubbing uncertainly against her calf and their smallest fingers just touching where their palms are braced on the floor." Sharp poignancy and tons of sensory--a perfect stolen moment.

Light gathered in you - lbmisscharlie - 1.4k, E, Lix/Bel "Bel looks at her, sidelong. Her lashes are long, mascaraed dark, and her mouth coral pink. “I did wonder,” she says. “If you were – a Sapphist.” She says the archaic word so delicately that Lix has to laugh, which makes Bel pink up and drop her gaze. “I’m – not fussy,” Lix says. She shifts her weight just so, her forearm brushing Bel’s elbow. Bel doesn’t look up, but takes a breath, lifts her glass to her mouth, and swallows her wine down." Everything about this--tone, dialogue, dynamics--feels spot-on.

The Most Marvellous Place to Get Lost - peninsulam - 8.5k, E, Lix/Bel "It is late spring in Tangier, and Bel feels as far from home as she has been in her life." Gorgeous, poignant, evocative. You know, just generally breathtaking.

Immoral Support - @thisbluespirit - 420 words, T, Lix/Bel "Bel winds up where she always does after a bad day; in the safest place she knows..." This is lovely, and manages to nail their dynamic in fewer than 500 words.

I'd like to explore you - rainbowsuomi - 604 words, unrated, Lix & Bel "Lix’s mind is already somewhere else when Bel tells her to think about it and exits the office, picturing herself in front of the camera, describing bars where girls had their hair cropped and styled with grease, smoking cigars and slipping their hands, elegant, long and white, under flowing, frilly skirts, caressing stockings and corrupting young ladies." A beautifully characterized slice of life (and Lix’s history).

Sherlock Roads, Not Shrouds - verdant_fire | @viridiandecisions - 3.4k, T, John/Sherlock "He's perfectly happy to live out the rest of his life in monastic devotion, feeding John and loving John and provoking John just enough to distract him from what Sherlock did to their kitchen table." Lovely and lyrical and heartfelt (without getting treacly).

Further fic recs | Fic bookmarks

#recent reads #Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency #the hour #harry potter #bbc sherlock #the history boys #femslash #dghda #hp #brotzly #remus/sirius #lix/bel #johnlock #scripps/posner #dghda fic #hp fic #the hour fic #bbc sherlock fic #history boys fic #fic recs #my recs

[madqueenalanna]

The Bet, 1/2

Pairing: Jeremy Dooley/Reader (female) Rating: Explicit Word count: 3,084 Summary: You and Jeremy bet on who can go longer without asking for sex, on the condition the winner gets to top the loser. It’s a lot harder than you think. Read: HERE on AO3 or below the cut

The guys were filming Minecraft when you got back into the office. It was a ‘just find a bunch of shit’ type of episode, so there would be a lot of material to cut; a bunch of fun to film, in your opinion, but just terrible to edit. “Ayy, look who’s back,” Michael bellowed.

“Oh, good,” said Jack. “I have to leave, come play as me.”

Well, you could never turn that offer down. You took Jack’s seat and wished him farewell before trying to figure out just what the hell you were supposed to be doing.

“Thought you were watching Always Open,” Geoff said, half a question. “What the fuck are you doing back already?”

“Nice to see you too, Geoffrey. If you all must know, they started talking about kinks, and then Lindsay’s answers revealed a little more than I wanted to know about her relationship with Michael. I high-tailed it out of there before I learned anything else I didn’t want to think about.”

“Now I’m curious,” Ryan said, glancing at you. “What did she say?”

“Oh, she tops Michael like a plastic couple on a wedding cake, dude.”

Michael snorted. “Bitch has no idea what she’s talking about.” You could feel the lie, though. Lindsay hadn’t really been that explicit, more confirmation that they didn’t have a strong Dom-sub dynamic in either dynamic, but it was funny to get under Michael’s skin a bit.

“I can buy it,” Gavin said, before Michael kicked his chair.

“Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut, Gav, like Meg doesn’t own your ass.” Ryan laughed, and Michael rounded on him too. “And like you’re not the most whipped guy in the office.”

“Hey! Why am I getting attacked now? What did I do?”

“He’s right though,” you said. “If you ever once topped your wife I’d be shocked. Same with you, Geoff.”

“I’m admitting nothing,” he said. “Kdin, cut all this.”

“Please,” Jeremy begged. “Cut this, kill me.”

“And I’m not whipped,” Ryan grumbled. “Believe me, just because I’m nice to my wife doesn’t mean I don’t have some measure of control.”

Michael whistled. “Damn, Ry, naughty!”

“That’s not what I– hey, someone bother her about what she’s like in bed.”

“Oh, jeez, let’s not,” Jeremy said. When you glanced over at him, he wasn’t blushing, but he was right on the edge there. Ever since you two had gotten together, the office teasing had been brutal.

“You know, I bet she tops him,” Gavin said conversationally.

Jeremy made a betrayed sound. “Lazy motherfucker that she is?”

“No, I can see it,” Michael said. “Fuckin’… what’s it called? Like, not dominatrix…”

“Domme,” provided Ryan. “D-O-M-M-E. I can absolutely believe that.”

“Stop picturing my girlfriend with whips,” Jeremy snapped, but it was toothless, and they knew it.

“Not whips,” Gavin said. “Just the control. That, y’know, smug satisfaction. I can’t see her listening to a man ever, let alone in bed.”

“I can’t even get her to shut up now, and I control her paychecks,” Geoff complained. “So you might be on to something.”

You laughed to yourself. This garbage fire of a conversation was much funnier from the outside.

“Kdin, cut this,” Jeremy warned again. “Let me tell you something. She gets to be so smug and satisfied in here because she knows that at home, she’s all mine.”

Well, that was enough to turn you on, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes. “Please. Like I’ve never made you beg.”

“Go ahead. Make me beg.” You locked eyes across the room and you saw the fire in Jeremy’s eyes– and the challenge.

“If I stopped giving it up, you’d beg me to fuck you within a week.”

He barked out a laugh, but it wasn’t really joyful. “You’d crack long before I did.”

“I’ll take that action.”

“I’ll throw in a hundred,” Gavin said. “Dunno if you’re just betting for bragging rights, but I’ll bet a hundred bucks that Jeremy cracks first.”

“Nah,” Ryan said. “I’ll get in on this. I get vibes of neediness.”

“Hey,” you complained. “I thought I was a domme?”

“Hey, no point in being a domme without a sub. I’m not saying you couldn’t make him beg. I’m just saying I think you’ll crack first.”

Well. You’d see about that.

***

You set the rules before Gavin and Ryan, so they could be witnesses: you could hug and kiss, but no tongue, no touching below the shoulders, and absolutely nothing that could be construed as sex– no oral, no phone sex, no mutual masturbation. You could both jack off, you could tease each other however you’d like, but nothing more. Gav and Ryan would deal with the money, but the winners would go out to lunch. You and Jeremy decided that whoever won got to top the other for one night, no holds barred.

You thought it would be easy.

For the first week, it was. You’d gone that long before, easily, casually; after a few months, your relationship with Jeremy wasn’t like it was in the beginning, where it was rare to go a day without getting your hands all over each other. Now you were comfortable in your relationship, relaxed, and so you had sex less often but better.

By the second week, it was starting to get harder. You woke up every morning to Jeremy spooning you, his morning wood pressed against your ass, and damn, it would be so easy to grind back against him like you used to do on weekends, let him wake up horny and fuck you half-asleep. But then you would lose, and you did not intend on losing.

It didn’t help that the guys in the office were intent on teasing the absolute life out of you. If you bent down to fix your loose cables or pick up something on the floor, Michael would whistle, “damn, Jeremy, hope you can handle seeing your girlfriend showin’ off like that.” If you wore anything even remotely sexy, Gavin would wonder aloud if you were planning on giving it up that night. Geoff would conjecture on where he’s caught other people in the office building (you did not laugh when your desk made the list, and he wouldn’t tell you who he caught there). Ryan, disgusting animal, would lean in while you were working and whisper to you about how easy it would be to give in, how natural, how no one could blame you when Jeremy was sitting right over there looking like that. Jack was a good guy and stayed out of it, although by the end of every day he would complain that “you could cut the tension with a knife”.

But the weekends were the worst.

See, your place had a pool, and it was an Austin summer. Of course you would be out there, sunning yourself or swimming or soaking your feet while you read a book. Of course Jeremy would be out there doing the same. And what your place also had was a fence– no one to see you take your bathing suit off, no one to see Jeremy’s hands cup your ass the way they had so many other times.

So on a Saturday afternoon it was perfectly natural for you to chill in a lawn chair in just a bikini and sunglasses, a podcast playing from your speakers. It was what you’d done nearly every Saturday afternoon since May, and yet Jeremy looked surprised to see you when he came out to swim.

“Hot out here,” he called, as if you didn’t know.

“Sure is. You goin’ for a swim?”

“Thought I might, if Your Majesty approves.” You smiled but said nothing as he jumped in. With your sunglasses on he couldn’t track your gaze, and so it was firmly on his ass, or else his biceps. Jeremy, glistening wet from sweat or water, was the kind of sight anyone would be unable to look away from.

He swam up to your side of the pool and folded his arms over the edge. “You look good,” he commented, eyes sweeping over your body. “Real good. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you naked, hasn’t it?”

“A few weeks, yeah. Are you starting to miss it?”

“Oh, believe me, I started missing it the day we agreed to that stupid bet.”

You perked up. “Are you caving?”

“Well, no, because now my pride is at stake. I’m going to win. But I also know that if we hadn’t made that bet, I could get you to jump in with me, pull your bikini off, and fuck you until you screamed.” He said it all casually, but his eyes were wide and dark.

“Well, if you wanted my bikini off, you only had to ask.” His breath caught but he waited in silence, and you smiled to yourself. You took your exaggerated time pulling the strings of your bathing suit top, and when it was off, you picked up your bottle of sunscreen and rubbed the lotion on your breasts. You could feel Jeremy watching you, almost panting, and you didn’t really need to keep touching yourself but it felt good to be touched, and knowing it was turning Jeremy on only made it better. You arched your back and sighed audibly, tweaked your nipples once, and then sat back against the chair.

“Oh, you fucking tease,” he murmured. “When I win, I’m gonna tie your hands to my headboard. I’m gonna get you so wet you’re dripping and then I’m gonna sit back and let you beg me to finally fuck you.”

Oh, God, what you wouldn’t give… “We’ll see,” you said simply.

***

You figured you had the upper hand. After all, Jeremy had admitted that he wished he’d never taken the bet and that he was having recurring and consuming thoughts about fucking you. You also knew that he was the one who pursued you, the one who initiated sex first, the one with the stronger sex drive. You just had to keep doing what you were doing, right? He’d cave soon.

You didn’t count on him fighting back.

It started subtle. He would lounge around the house shirtless, especially after a shower. He would come home from the gym in a black wife-beater and sweatpants that rode low on his hips. He would reach around you to grab things, pressing his cock against your ass. He would spend what felt like hours a day texting you about all the things he was gonna do to you once the bet was over.

But you stood strong. Even though it got bad enough that maybe once a day you’d sneak into the bathroom and rub your clit until your legs shook, at work or at home, you went another week, two weeks, three weeks. It had been more than a month since the bet started and everyone thought it would be over soon. It had to be over soon, right?

One night, about six weeks after the bet began, you sat on the edge of the bathtub painting your toenails. It was a treat yourself kind of evening, and you needed the stress relief now more than ever. You and Jeremy had taken to sleeping apart, you in bed and him on the couch; it was too hard otherwise.

He came in without knocking. “Hey, shoo,” you said. “I’m having me time.”

He gave no sign that he’d heard you at all and leaned back against the counter, closing his eyes and hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers. You swallowed, polish forgotten, and watched as Jeremy slid his boxers down his hips to mid-thigh and took his cock in hand, stroking it carefully to full hardness.

Surprisingly, with all the teasing, you hadn’t really seen Jeremy naked in the past month; he’d been body shy at the best of times and didn’t really like to just hang around naked. You certainly hadn’t caught him masturbating, though he assured you frequently that he did, often, thinking of you. “Jeremy, are you sure…” You didn’t even know how you were going to finish that sentence and he didn’t react to your voice anyway.

“Oh, God,” he breathed, tipping his head back as his thumb found the sensitive spot just under the head, his hips rolling forward. “God…”

You watched breathlessly, like a voyeur.

His hand was strong and sure, a firm grip that made him sigh and pant and moan. His cock was flushed and leaking and looked to be so hard it ached. It would be so easy to lean in and take it into your mouth, to sink your fingertips into Jeremy’s soft hips and taste his pre-come– your lips parted just slightly at the thought. But then you would lose, and you had to win. You were sure you had to… had to…

He was clearly in his rhythm now, hips snapping forward into the tight circle of his fingers, his fist shining with pre-come and his forehead beaded with sweat, and every breath he let out was a sharp gasp. You didn’t know how much of it was an act for your benefit, or if this was really how he looked when he managed on his own, but… heat coiled in your belly as surely as if you were the one on the brink of orgasm, and you wanted him.

When he came, you both cried out together.

He took only a moment to catch his breath, and then he washed his hand, tucked his cock back into his boxers, and left, all without even looking at you.

***

“Two months to the day,” you announced, setting your coffee on your desk and dropping into your chair. “Two goddamn months.”

No one had to ask what you were referring to. Your sex life was the most common topic of office gossip. “And how’s that going for you?” Ryan asked. He’d been sure you would lose quickly, and every passing Monday where you showed up with a scowl he’d seemed a little less confident.

“You know, Ry, not fucking great.”

“No? Getting frustrated?”

“Yes,” you said shortly. You used to make jokes about it. It didn’t seem very funny anymore, and Jeremy seemed to be the same way, staying mostly silent and giving off annoyed vibes off-camera. “I’m about ready to break up with Jeremy just so I can fuck someone else without losing this motherfucking bet. I’d suck the dick of anyone in this building without a second thought right now.”

“You’d fuck someone in the office?” Ryan asked, eyebrows jumping up in surprise.

“I’d fuck you if you asked me.” He flushed and turned away.

“No one’s fucking Ryan,” Geoff announced, hands splayed like he was trying to hold you off.

“You should be happy, Geoff,” Jeremy said. “I thought you wanted fewer people having sex in the office.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know it would make you such a cranky bitch, though.”

“It’s your own fault,” Michael added. “You made the bet.”

Strictly speaking you were the one who made the bet, but it had never been your prerogative to step in between your boyfriend and a good roast session, so you sipped your coffee and booted up your computer.

“Yeah, I didn’t think it would take two months! I’ve had blue balls for eight weeks!”

Gavin smiled, slow and sly. “You can give up, you know. You can end this whenever you want. I’m sure she’d thank you.”

Jeremy looked you dead in the eye. “You want it to be over?”

“Well, yeah, I’ve wanted it to be over for, like, seven and a half weeks.”

“Let’s go.” He stalked over and grabbed you by the arm, hauling you out of your chair in such a demanding way that a shiver went through you. “C’mere, you.”

“You know you’ll lose,” you said, just to be sure that you wanting it to end didn’t mean you were giving in. The guys all watched to see what Jeremy would do.

“Put it in the books,” he said, fire in his eyes. “Signed, sealed, notarized. I lost the bet!” He led you out of the room and into the bathroom down the hall. Trevor was washing his hands, but Jeremy barked “leave” and he fled with a knowing smile. Jeremy locked the door and finally, finally after two months he grabbed you and kissed you deep and fierce, his tongue in your mouth and his hands on your ass.

“I can’t wait, I really can’t wait,” he said when you had to catch your breath. “Take your pants off. I’ll fuck you better later, but if I have to go ten more minutes without getting my dick wet I swear the god…”

You shucked off your jeans and panties, dropped them where they fell. “You’re so disgusting, Jeremy.”

“Okay. I’ll go back to the office and let you do whatever in here, then.”

“Now that’s not what I said…” His belt clinked when it hit the floor and for some reason that got you as turned on as anything else.

He lifted you up bodily to sit on the counter and pushed your legs open. “Two months,” he groaned, cock in hand, teasing your clit with the head. You shuddered, sighed, pushed your hips forward. “No bet is worth two months without this.” He pushed inside you and you bit your hand to keep from screaming.

His pace was brutally efficient, his thumb working your clit as he sunk his teeth anywhere he could, leaving red marks you knew you couldn’t hide. It wasn’t going to be a long fuck, and you’d seen him go for hours… Neither of you could wait, and it was just a few minutes before you clenched around him and came, and with a few more thrusts he spilled inside you.

He didn’t pull out right away. He leaned forward and rested his forehead to yours, hand cupping the back of your neck. “I can’t wait to get home and do that again,” he breathed, and you had to agree. “You’re gonna look so beautiful under me.”

“Oh, no,” you reminded him with a faint smile. “Remember the conditions of the bet? Gavin gets a hundred bucks and takes me out to lunch, and…”

“You get to top me,” he recalled with a deep sigh. “Well, babe, my ass is yours. What do you plan on doing with it?”

You just smiled wider. “Wait and see.”

#Fan fiction #Ragehappy #Jeremy Dooley #Achievement Hunter